#and steve just tells him the truth: hes just as beautiful as the day he lost him

[lunaicfantastic]

just rewatched the first two httyd movies and I can't get the idea of Steve and Eddie as stoick and valka out of my head... the dancing and the dreaming scene, them both unknowingly echoing each other while believing the other dead/incapable of change... this scene:

(taken from a meme cause I couldn't find a gif of this exchange)

just,,, steve seeing eddie for the first time in so long and how can he be mad when the love of his life is here, with him, again, something he never thought he'd see until he crossed the threshold of Valhalla?

(also steve doesn't die in this au bc fuck that noise)

[loguine-linguine]

Ok hear me out!!!

Steve is a musician who sings pop music and posts on TikTok. He’s kind of a C-ish list celebrity (definitely a bit of a nepo baby) and his music is poppy and catchy. It’s the kinda stuff that you can immediately tell is coming from someone who is actively holding things back/ isn’t writing from any truth. Mall music at its purest form. Then one day with no announcement Steve drops a double sided album that is like GOOD GOOD pop music. It’s also noted very quickly that the pronouns in all the songs have definitely switched to he/him. People freak out and he starts charting for the first time in his career. Kinda Chappell Roan-esque situation where he skyrockets to being a queer pop icon very very quickly.

He starts doing interviews. He shows up to these interviews in outfits aren’t dramatically changed from what he usually wore (polos, jeans, bomber jackets, 80s jock vibes) but it’s all just much more camp. The cropped shirts are shorter, the jeans are tighter, and the colors are all suddenly pastel. He has also started wearing makeup (not heavy makeup but it’s definitely a lipgloss, eyeliner, mascara, highlight/blush on the tip of his nose type situation). He shares that he dropped his old producer (who he had been set up with by his father) and that he’s now working with his best friend Robin. He comes out as gay, talks about his struggle with comp-het, and proudly shares that he is super excited to contribute to the growing movement of music that is being written by queer people, for queer people. His TikTok also blows up.

This is when Tommy Hagan first starts showing up. Tommy is an actor who is pretty well known for doing teen drama TV shows (like Riverdale type deals). He introduces himself to Steve at some sort of industry event right after Steve gets big and pretty quickly starts showing up in his TikTok videos. It comes out that the two are dating pretty quickly after that. They date off and on for about a year and a half. Tommy is a shitty enough boyfriend that even Steve’s fans don’t like him. He stands him up for dates, embarrasses him at events, says rude and dismissive things about his music, etc. Robin (who is also kinda famous by proxy/writes her own music now similar to Billie Eilish and Finneas) absolutely hates his guts. Publicly. They finally break up officially after Tommy cheats on Steve with an actress named Carol who is on a show with him. It gets exposed by the tabloids and Steve finds out by seeing a photo of them making out on one of those celebrity drama TikTok accounts.

Eddie is also getting famous around this same time. He’s the lead for Corroded Coffin and also starts acting occasionally in horror films. He doesn’t really pay much attention to other celebrities or the drama that goes on. He was never into that kind of thing before the band took off so he doesn’t see why he should now. Eddie and the rest of the band are at an awards show of some sort and the others make fun of him the whole time. He can’t stop staring at this absolutely beautiful man sitting at a table near them. “The guy is wearing a slutty little lace shirt, the tightest pants in existence, and has skin that looks like honey and caramel had a child Gareth you really can’t blame me honestly.” Steve and Eddie don’t officially meet until the after party where they immediately hit it off.

A few months later Steve announces a new album and releases a single. It’s just Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter but gay and clearly about Tommy.

The music video comes out and people loose their minds. It’s the same sort of video as what Sabrina Carpenter just released for Please Please Please with the stunning outfits and the whole bad boy thing. Steve spends the whole video in dresses and skirts. There’s even a corset at one point. The bigger freak out is the fact that the Barry Keoghan equivalent is Eddie and its a hard launch of their relationship that fans had absolutely zero clue was even a possibility because why would horror/metal man Eddie Munson even know Steve Harrington???? Robin and the Corroded Coffin guys think the whole thing is hilarious. Eddie and Steve are so so happy :)

[gothcsz]

Motive | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 3 of Unscripted Desire | ~10k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Another chaotic shoot... but at least it's in Malibu?

Tags: more plot keeps sneaking into the porn, angst, frankie has entered the villa, jealous!javi, reader stands on business, it's a porn set other people are also fucking, masturbation on camera (m), dirty talk, lots of cursing (f bombs my beloved), an attempt at a blowjob, javier can't get it up, a dash of misogyny, author projects her ooc thoughts about problematic age gaps in the porn industry, no use of y/n, reader has a degree in film production, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: me nervous that part 3 isn't going to live up to the hype? more likely than you think! 🙂‍↕️ this fic is taking on a brain of its own and i'm just along for the ride, baby! for my just the tip stans— i'm sorry but i'm going to have to edge you until part 4 *crowd boos and i'm dragged off stage* i was going to wait to post this, but i really wanted to get it out because i'm so damn proud of it lowkey, lol, so i hope you all like it 🖤 let a bitch know what ya think! also, shoutout to my pookie @persephone-girl for reading over this 💋 love u mamas

Your phone’s shrill ring pierces through the haze of sleep, and you groan in frustration, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

The comforter is pulled tight over your head, shielding you from the annoyingly bright sunlight filtering through your window. Your hand shoots out, fumbling blindly across the bedside table until your fingers finally close around the receiver. 

“What?” you grumble, voice thick with sleep and muffled beneath your sheets.

“There she is! My beautiful, talented camerawoman. Have I ever told you how much I appreciate what you do?” Robbie’s overly cheerful voice blares through the phone, so you pull it back from your ear slightly, wincing.

“Why are you calling me this early in the morning?” you snap, already regretting picking up.

“Early? It’s almost noon—”

“What do you want, Robbie?” You cut him off, not in the mood for small talk, especially since last night’s bar shift ran past four in the morning. You were hoping to sleep through most of the day, recovering in your bed with no interruptions. Clearly, that plan has gone out the window.

“Look, I’ve got a big shoot happening in Malibu today and I’m short-staffed. I could really use your magic touch behind the camera.”

“No.”

 “C’mon,” he drags the word out, “I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for working on your day off.”

You rub your eyes, the remnants of sleep still clinging to you. “How much?”

He tosses out a number, and despite your best effort to remain indifferent, your eyes widen. Damn. That’s more than decent money.

“Malibu’s all the way across town,” you point out, “I won’t make it there in time if I take the bus. And a taxi? That’ll cost me a fortune.”

“Don’t worry about that. Your ride’s outside waiting for you.”

You blink, confused, and get out of bed, dragging the corded phone with you as you move toward the bay window. You pull the curtain back just enough to peer down at the busy street below.

Sure enough, Steve is there, leaning casually against his Jeep with sunglasses on, a cigarette between his lips. The second he spots you looking down, he grins like the cheshire cat and waves.

“Seriously?” you mutter to Robbie, flipping Steve off with a half-hearted smile. “And what if I’d said no?”

“We both know you wouldn’t have.”

After a few more quick exchanges, you hang up, glancing once more at your ride through the window before turning to rush and get yourself ready for the day ahead.

Truth be told, you’re still not fully awake, your body moving on autopilot as you shuffle through your morning (midday) routine.

It’s been ages since you’ve been to the beach— especially one as nice as Malibu’s. The thought of it softens the blow of losing your rest day. You tell yourself you’ll make the best of it, turning this unexpected workday into something that benefits you, too.

After shooting wraps, you’ll indulge in a quiet evening by the shore, sinking your toes into the warm sand with a good book in hand. No rush to head back. This time, you’ll gladly take a taxi if it means getting some peace seaside.

With that plan in mind, you dress for the day accordingly. Your halter-style bathing suit doubles as a cute top, the color complimenting your skin, while your favorite denim shorts sit comfortably over your bikini bottoms.

You pack a few essentials into your beach bag and make sure to grab your camera bag as well. Once you’ve double-checked that everything’s packed, you make your way downstairs, feeling a bit more awake now.

Steve catches sight of you approaching and flashes a dramatic grin, straightening up like he’s about to chauffeur royalty.

“Your chariot awaits,” he announces with an exaggerated flourish, swinging the passenger door open.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the bemused laugh that escapes your lips. “God, you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, shaking your head as you climb into the seat, tossing your beach bag onto the floor.

He shuts the door behind you with a smirk. “Ridiculous? I prefer charmingly dedicated to my craft.” He hops into the driver’s side, flicking the cigarette away before starting the car.

You snort at his self-satisfaction, leaning back against the seat and putting on the seatbelt. 

“Malibu, huh? How the fuck did he manage to swing that?”

He chuckles, one hand lazily draped over the wheel, the other tapping out a rhythm on his knee. “He didn’t tell me much either— just asked me to stop by and pick you up on my way.”

That makes sense. Robbie’s always been a bit scatterbrained, occasionally running around like he’s managing a multi-million-dollar empire when, in reality, he’s holding it together with duct tape and half-assed enthusiasm.

The drive is surprisingly fun, Steve’s constant jokes keeping your spirits high. He always manages to make you laugh, which is why you tolerate his quirks. 

“I’m pretty sure Javi’s going to be there,” he says, almost too nonchalantly, meaning he’s in the mood to be messy.

You keep your gaze focused on the coastline, watching as palm trees blur past. The wind from the open windows has you squinting momentarily, but it can’t cool the sudden heat spreading through your body. 

“It’s not going to be weird seeing him, right?” He presses and you finally turn to face him, moving your sunglasses to the top of your head.

“Why would it be weird?” you ask, the challenge clear in your voice.

He shoots you a look, brows raised and lips quirked in that irritating way of his. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe ‘cause of the whole flirtin’ with you during the middle of a scene thing? Or, y’know, the elevator incident… which, by the way, what the fuck even happened there?” He glances at you, curiosity practically oozing out of him.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, but you can’t stop the way your thighs rub together at the memory. 

Javier’s mouth... God. “None of your damn business.”

“Don’t tell me you fucked him.”

You laugh, loudly, the sound bordering on forced. “Absolutely not.”

He shoots you that okay, sure look, and you groan internally.

Steve’s like a dog with a bone when he gets curious, and you know he’s not going to let this go until you give him something. You sigh, deciding to indulge him— partially. 

“He was being an asshole,” you start, and he immediately interjects with, “Nothing new there,” causing both of you to share a laugh at Javier’s expense.

You shake your head, returning your sunglasses to the bridge of your nose. “No, seriously. He was pushing my buttons, being his usual peacock self. I don’t even know how it escalated, but one moment we’re arguing, and the next... he’s got his tongue in my pussy.”

Steve chokes on his own spit at your bluntness. He’s heard and seen much worse on set, yet your confession has him all tripped up. 

“So, you did fuck him?”

You roll your eyes again, shifting in your seat as the horny flashbacks hit you all at once— Javier’s lips wrapped around your clit, the perfect rhythm of his tongue, his fingers.

You shove those thoughts away, focusing on the road ahead, annoyed at both Javier and Steve now. “Getting head isn’t fucking. It’s, like, third base. And anyway, I made it clear— that’s all he was getting from me. I’m not about to waste my time rolling around in bed with him.”

He gives you a look— a knowing look— and you scoff, shaking your head. “What now?” 

“Nothing. You’re just the first person I’ve heard say that about him.”

“Someone’s gotta humble his ass,” you mutter, though the words feel heavier than they should. You try to act like you’ve put Javier out of your mind, like that moment was nothing but a blip in your life, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple.

You’ve never met anyone like him, and the fact that he can elicit such reactions from you pisses you off so bad.

As the coastline stretches out in front of you, Malibu drawing closer with every mile, you can’t help but wonder if seeing Javier today will be as easy as you’re pretending it will be.

The mansion is far more extravagant than anything you could have imagined. Its grand facade, with towering columns and ivy crawling up the sides, feels like something out of a movie set, and for a second, you almost forget why you’re here.

But then, as soon as you step past the threshold, you hear it— echoing from deep within the house are the unmistakable sounds of exaggerated moans, grunts, and the rhythmic thump of bodies meeting.

You adjust the strap of your camera bag on your shoulder, your beach bag abandoned in Steve’s car. As you step further into the foyer, Robbie appears, that infamous smirk plastered on his face.

“Long way from home, aren’t you, Dorothy?” he jokes, taking in your wide-eyed amusement as you scan the expensive decor— the towering glass chandelier overhead, the marble floors gleaming beneath your feet, the floor-to-ceiling windows.

You can’t help but be a little impressed. 

But of course, he’s there to give you shit about it. You turn your wide-eyed gaze into a glare, bringing your attention to him. “So funny. You should quit your current sleazy day job and take up another sleazy one— stand up,” you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He just grins, unbothered by your sharp tone. “You’re always a joy to work with. No wonder Javi asked for you specifically.”

Your entire demeanor shifts viscerally and you curse yourself for it mentally, caught completely off guard. “Wait, what? Javier asked for me?”

He shrugs, indifferent to your confusion. “Yeah. He’s set for a solo shoot upstairs in one of the bathrooms before he’s on with...” He snaps his fingers, trying to remember. “...Mariella. Real pretty girl, it’s her first on-camera gig today.”

The world blurs a little as your mind zeroes in on that one bit of information: Javier asked for you. And not just for any shoot— a solo one. You blink, shaking your head to clear the fog. “I’m sorry, can we go back to the part where I was summoned here by someone who isn’t my boss?”

“Oh yeah, he made a real fuss about it. Sent away the other guy we had lined up for the shoot. Told me he wouldn’t do it unless you were behind the camera. Even offered to pay out of his own pocket just to get you here. It’s the only reason we’re paying you as much as I promised over the phone.”

Your stomach twists and you can feel your face settling into a deep frown, the kind that pulls some of your mood down with it. So that’s why he dangled such a big paycheck in front of you this morning.

After the elevator incident (as Steve has so eloquently named it), after the intense heat of his mouth on you, the way he had you— he said he’d leave you alone. He was supposed to respect the boundaries you set, but here he is, yanking you back into his orbit. 

You can already picture him upstairs, lounging in one of those stupidly lavish bathrooms, probably smirking that damn smirk of his, waiting for you.

You try to squash down the way your pulse quickens at the thought, the lingering memory of his fingers digging into your hips, his tongue working between your thighs, is beckoning you into temptation again.

“Fucking great,” you mutter, more to yourself than your boss. You have half a mind to storm up those stairs, find the pornstar, and give him a piece of your mind before marching right back out to spend your day on the beach— free of drama and distractions and him.

But the reality is, you’re being paid nearly three times what you’d normally make on a gig like this. It’s enough to drown out the temptation to walk away, however satisfying that would be.

You’re an adult. You’ve dealt with worse. You can handle this.

Robbie gives you a sidelong glance, clearly sensing your hesitation. “You’re not backing out, are you?”

With a sigh, you force a smile and shake your head. “As good as it’d feel to leave, no, I’m not. I’ll be up in a sec.”

Relief flashes across his face, and he gives you a few pointers before rushing off into this maze of a house.

You linger for a second longer, taking a deep breath to shake off the nerves. Come on. Get it together. After a final mental pep talk, you head toward the grand staircase that winds up to the second floor. 

The sight that greets you at the top of the stairs stops you in your tracks: Lexxie is splayed out on her back atop some console table, currently getting the life fucked out of her. The visual is chaotic but nothing new. You’ve seen it a hundred times before. 

A guy with a scruffy beard and a beat-up baseball cap stands behind the camera, looking more bored than impressed, barely watching as the two stars go at it.

You lean against the nearby railing, your voice cutting through their heavy breaths and grunts. “Guess your marriage to Javier didn’t last very long,” you tease from off camera, referencing the honeymoon shoot.

The star’s eyes snap open at the sound of your voice, and she flashes you a playful, almost sweet smile in between heavy breaths. “Kinda regretting stepping out on him—oh, fuck.” Her snappy comeback dissolves into a breathy moan as the guy currently rearranging her on the table pushes her legs up to her chest, hitting just the right spot. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ruin your shot,” you say, throwing a glance at the cameraman, knowing how annoying it can be when someone messes with your focus.

He waves it off with a lazy shrug. “It’s not ruined. Honestly, I would’ve quit filming ten minutes ago. It’s starting to drag. I’m impressed they’re still going.”

You let out a small laugh, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, they’ve got stamina like you wouldn’t believe. Makes me feel lazy in bed sometimes, but then I remember how unrealistic this shit actually is.”

He chuckles, scratching at his jaw. “Should make it an Olympic sport. Bet we’d bring home gold.”

“Pretty sure that already exists and it happens in the Olympic Village.” You smirk, finally peeling your eyes away from the couple to look at him properly.

He’s cute in that disheveled, stray-dog kind of way. His curls poke out from under a worn baseball cap, his beard patchy, and his clothes rumpled, like he just rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing he could find. He fits in perfectly with the kind of guys you’d expect on a porn crew.

Earning a genuine laugh from him, he extends a hand. “I’m Frankie.”

You shake it, offering your name in return. “I’m also part of the crew. About to go shoot a scene in the master bathroom.” You explain, noticing how his grip lingers just a little, his smile playful and easy. You feel a bit of warmth rush to your cheeks, and he’s about to say something when—

“Oh fuck, I’m about to cum!” Lexxie’s voice is piercing, loud and breathless, pulling your attention back to the scene.

You shake your head, stifling a laugh. “Well, that’s my cue,” you mutter, stepping out before you get too caught up flirting with him.

“Nice meeting you,” he says before dismounting the camera, moving in closer to capture the so-called money shot.

Cute. Too cute. It’s almost enough to make you forget about the man you’re about to see.

You push open the door to the room Javier’s in, and the sight of him has you doing a double take.

He’s standing in the middle of the room with nothing but a white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, his defined Adonis belt drawing your eyes in a way you hate to admit.

His toned, brown torso glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat, the sunlight pouring into the room making him look like he’s glowing.

You need to toughen up, and in order to do so, you have to bitch at him. It’s the only way to keep that lustful cavewoman instinct away.

“You’re a piece of work,” is what you settle on, making sure to let your tone really punctuate how annoyed you are by the stunt he pulled today.

The second his eyes lock onto yours, amusement flickers behind them, as if he’s been waiting for this confrontation.

He quirks a brow, lips curving into a lazy smile. “¿De que hablas nena—?”

“What happened to ‘if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave you alone’? Was that something you said just to lower my guard? To get me to give you what you want?” You cut him off, keeping your distance even as you notice him inching closer.

Your eyes are daggers as they bore into him, and for a brief second, you hope he feels at least some of the fire burning in your chest. But if he’s affected, he doesn’t show it. He is frustratingly calm, like he’s above it all.

“You gave me no indication that you didn’t want me anymore.” His voice is casual, almost patronizing.

You groan as you throw your hands up in exasperation. “I literally said, ‘Hope you got your fix because it’s never happening again.’ What the fuck else do I have to say or do to get you off my back?”

Silence settles between you two as you stand there staring each other down. He’s unreadable, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin tingle.

“Well?” you demand, impatient.

“In my defense— it didn’t sound very convincing.” You stare at him incredulously before turning on your heel. Hell no. He can keep his money and his bullshit. You’re not doing this.

But just as your fingers graze the doorknob, his voice sharpens with a hint of panic, calling your name.

“Wait, look,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, “I’m not trying to start anything. I just thought—” he pauses, searching for the right words. “I’d feel more comfortable if you were behind the camera during this shoot. Not the other guy Robbie brought in.”

Frankie? He seems so harmless, and besides, Javier’s never had an issue with whoever’s in the room when he’s filming, so why is it a problem now?

However, his tone does sound sincere. You turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes and refusing to let your guard down. “This better not be another one of your tricks, Javier. If you’re doing this to try and get into my pants—”

He almost grins, but catches himself just in time, clearly biting back a remark. You can see it in the way his mouth twitches, and you know exactly what he’s thinking. Already have, his brown eyes seem to say. But he holds his tongue, offering a faint nod instead. 

“I promise. No tricks. Just a professional shoot. That’s it.”

You give him one last warning glance before sighing. “Fine. But I’m telling you, Javier—”

“I know, I know,” he interrupts, holding up his hands. “I get it and please stop calling me Javier.”

You arch a brow. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but everyone calls me Javi.”

Ugh, whatever. “Okay, fine, Javi. Just show me where I’m supposed to set up.” 

He bites back another grin and motions you with a flick of his head, and with the weird tension simmering, you follow him toward the ensuite bathroom. The door creaks open, revealing an elaborate setup, and you pause in the doorway, eyes widening.

It’s surprisingly... beautiful.

In front of a massive window that overlooks the sprawling blue ocean outside, there’s a porcelain clawfoot bathtub filled with what looks like a milk bath. Various colored flower petals float delicately on the surface, scattered in an almost artful arrangement.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Well, damn. This actually looks nice.” This bathroom is bigger than your entire apartment.

Javier notices your reaction and leans against the doorframe to the connecting walk in closet, arms crossed over his bare chest, a smirk playing on his lips. “Catering to the female gaze,” he says with a cocky shrug, “At least, that’s what my agent told me. Seems like I’m very popular among the ladies.”

The way he says it makes you want to smack him upside the head. He’s pushing your buttons again in the most subtle way, and you hate how good he is at it.

“Cute,” you reply dryly, walking past him to set your camera bag down on the large counter.

As you begin to unpack and set up, you can feel his eyes on you, watching your every move, lingering on the exposed skin of your back then dripping down to your legs.

It kind of feels good to have him ogling you like this. The whole look but don’t touch thing is really doing it for you, more than you’d care to admit. There’s a certain power in keeping him wanting, yet also forcing the distance.

“It’s not just about the ladies, you know. I actually want this to be good. I trust you to make it look that way.”

You glance over at him. His playful arrogance has slightly faded, shaded in by the genuine want to make this feel more than just some raunchy scene.

“I’m not a director, I just film it,” you remind him, adjusting the camera lens as you try to play it off. “So just do whatever you think is right. Robbie gave me some pointers, but it wasn’t much.”

“Still,” he presses, “there’s some finesse to what you do.”

At least he’s aware of that. “Let’s just get this over with,” you say, deflecting the compliment.

You finish setting up the camera, adjusting the tripod to get the perfect angle. It’s important to capture the full picturesque scene to begin with— the soft light spilling in through the window, the sparkling blue ocean in the background.

You clear your throat, “Okay, I’m all set for whenever you’re ready.”

Javier moves casually as he unwraps the white towel from around his waist. His cock, already half-hard, demands your attention, but you force yourself to look away. You rub your lips together then lick at them unconsciously, trying to focus on anything other than his naked body.

“Got plans after this?” he asks as though he’s asking you about the weather.

You blink at the normalcy of the question “Just going to hang out by the beach,” you reply plainly, trying to keep your focus on the camera and not on his crotch.

It almost feels strange talking to him like this, without the usual teasing or sexual tension-laden bickering.

“Sounds fun,” he says as he steps into the tub, the water sloshing around him. “Real nice out here. The weather is perfect for it today.”

You watch as he settles in, the milky water rising around his body, and for a moment, you’re completely mesmerized.

The scene in front of you looks like something out of a romantic painting, and it hits you how undeniably beautiful he looks. His skin, a warm golden brown, contrasts perfectly with the creamy white of the bath, and the colorful flower petals floating on the surface make the whole thing look like a dream.

He leans back, the water just kissing his chest, and you catch yourself imagining what a soft, hazy vignette filter would do to the shot, how it would add an enchanting glow to an already intimate scene.

You shake your head slightly, snapping yourself out of the reverie. You’re supposed to be filming him jerking off, not admiring the aesthetics like this is some fine art shoot. But fuck, it’s hard to separate the two when the visuals are this damn good.

Javier, of course, senses your brief distraction. He watches you, eyes thoughtful as he stretches out, letting the water ripple around him. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a slight smirk playing on his lips, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand, despite the heat pooling between your thighs. “Is there a clear direction for this scene, or are you just improvising?”

“I’m just winging it,” his voice is a rich, velvet drawl, a little rough from all the smoking he does. “No dirty talk. They want my natural noises to be the main focus… amongst other things.” He cocks his head to the side, one arm coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

Heat blooms low in your belly, shooting straight to your cunt at the sight. The way his bicep flexes, the muscles shifting smoothly beneath that taut, sun-kissed skin, showcasing just how defined he is while still looking so maddeningly soft. 

Calm down, girl, you silently reprimand your pussy. She’s fucking purring right now.

You clear your throat and give him a nod, signaling him to begin. Stepping behind the camera, you focus through the lens, grateful for the distance.

Javier moves slowly. His head tips back against the edge of the tub, eyes falling closed, the soft curve of his lashes fanning out like shadows against his skin. One hand trails down, lingering at the hollow of his collarbones. The movements are unhurried, almost reverent, as though he’s savoring the feel of his own skin.

The intimate build-up draws you in, despite your best efforts to remain detached.

You unmount the camera from its tripod after a few moments, stepping closer to him, framing the shot tight around his chest, the slow glide of his hand along his torso. You can’t help but notice the pounding of your heart, each beat mirroring the steady, throbbing pulse at your clit. 

The sight of him— relaxed, fully in his element, bathed in the soft glow of light— stirs that fucking feeling deep within you.

It’s not just desire, though that’s certainly there. It’s the maddening awareness of how sensual, how magnetic this man is. And even though you try to tell yourself you’d feel the same about any other attractive man in his place, you know that’d be a damn lie.

Javier’s hand moves lower, ghosting over the ridges of his soft stomach. His other hand trails slowly through the water, sending gentle ripples through the milky bath. You swallow hard and focus the lens on his face— the slight parting of his pouty pink lips beneath his trimmed mustache that you just now realize has a small patch right above his cupid’s bow.

Even his imperfections are attractive.

The flushed skin of his cock makes an appearance, his thick, swollen head breaking the surface of the water with each subtle movement, teasing you and the camera. The way it peeks through, the slick tip glistening in the milky bath, almost feels like a taunt— winking at you.

Doing as you’re supposed to, you adjust the lens to zoom in on the way his cock flirts with the surface.

If you were anyone else, one of his usual co-stars maybe, you’d lean down and give it a few kitten licks. You’d tease the sensitive crown with your tongue, circling the tip before letting it slide past your lips— just enough to drive him wild.

Your tongue twitches at the thought.

A soft groan escapes his lips as he gets closer to where he’s aching to touch. It’s as if he can read your mind, as if he knows you’re imagining the feel of his cock in your mouth, the taste of his salty skin, the way he’d twitch against your tongue as you tease him until he begs for more.

Maybe he’s picturing your lips wrapped around him, too.

You bite down on your lower lip, forcing yourself to stay quiet, to stay focused, even though your body is betraying you. The mess in your panties, the way your nipples stiffen beneath your bathing suit top— everything about this moment is dangerous.

Then finally, his fist wraps around his cock, a soft slosh of water accompanying the motion. The eroticism of the scene— paired with the proximity, the memory of those hands on you— ignites that annoying need deep inside.

He strokes himself slowly, eyes still closed as though lost in the pleasure of it all. You focus the camera on his hand, on the way it moves with purpose, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock, slick with precum.

His groans start to fill the air, and your own body reacts, hips shifting slightly as you try to ignore pressure at your cunt.

“Still with me?” His voice cuts through the silence, raspy and knowing, eyes fluttering open to look at you.

Oh. Have they always been this golden?

“Yeah,” you’re proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady.

Javier’s body is pure, unfiltered sin in motion. As you move around the bathtub to capture every angle, you can’t help but admire him. His muscles shift with every slow pump of his hand, the sinewy lines of his arms and torso rippling just beneath the milky water.

His stomach contracts with each exhale, drawing your gaze lower to the faint trail of hair leading down to his cock, which you catch glimpses of when his hips buck up inadvertently.

His breathing grows heavier, his pouty bottom lip caught between his teeth, brows furrowing in concentration as his pleasure builds. It’s mesmerizing, the way his face contorts, his expressions almost too intimate, too personal for the lens. But you can’t tear your eyes— or the camera— away.

His fist moves with such confidence, touching himself with an unhurried rhythm that only a man used to his own pleasure can manage. Every time his thumb glides over the tip of his cock, a heavier grunt rumbles in his throat and it’s so hot.

You’re too focused on capturing every inch of him that it almost catches you off guard when he begins to speak.

“Wish it was your pretty hand around me right now, baby.” His voice is husky, laced with want, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You blink rapidly, heart stalling in your chest as the camera wavers slightly in your hands. “Javier,” you sigh, his name slipping from your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Fuck, I know, but shit—” His words are more ragged now, spoken between heavy breaths. “You’re all I can think about still. You stay in my mind, muñeca. Can’t get you out.”

Even though every rational part of you knows you should stop him, should leave or at least say something to shut him up, you don’t.

You don’t run, you don’t protest. You just... let it happen.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I-I—” The words get stuck in your throat, “I can’t. I’ll ruin the shoot.” Why is that your priority right now?

“You won’t.”

The way he says it chips at the walls you've built around yourself.

“What do I even say?”

“Anything,” there he goes again, using that tone that makes him sound like he’s begging.

So, you say what you’ve been thinking of since he got into this damn tub. “Your cock is so pretty, Javi.” You purr, throwing all caution to the wind, lying to yourself that this means nothing.

The effect is immediate. He groans, a deep sound from his chest, and his hand moves faster over his shaft, the slickness of the water amplifying the movement. “Fuck,” he says, his breathing now erratic, “say it again.”

Your gaze flicks down and it’s mesmerizing watching the way his body responds to his own touch, but it’s the fact that he’s unraveling in front of you that leaves your mouth dry.

“Such a pretty cock, Javi,” you repeat, voice steadier this time, growing bolder with each passing second. Every flex and contraction of his body feeds the arousal pulsing in you. “I bet it would feel perfect sliding down my throat, hitting the back of it until I’m choking on you.”

All those hours spent listening to cheesy porn dialogue are finally paying off.

His head falls back, exposing the strong column of his neck, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. A guttural groan escapes him as the image of what you just said sets in. His other hand moves down to cup his heavy, swollen balls, the water around him rocking more violently now as he starts to lose himself in the fantasy.

“Shit… I’m close,” he growls, voice breaking with need, the words barely coherent. “Keep talking to me, fuck…”

You lean in slightly, the camera momentarily forgotten. “You want to come for me?” Your whisper is dripping with lust, the idea of him falling apart because of you making your pussy ache. “You want to make a mess? Pretend I’m kneeling right here, my mouth open and waiting for you to fill it, warm and wet just for you?”

You’ve seen him come so many times, watched him fill too many cunts with his spend and paint different parts of their pretty bodies— but none of it compares to the sight before you.

The way his body jerks in response tells you everything you need to know. His grip tightens on the edge of the tub, knuckles going white as he pumps faster, rougher, pushing himself toward the brink. His hips start lifting out of the water with every thrust into his own hand, chasing that final release.

“Fuck, yes…,” he groans, voice strangled, barely holding it together. His eyes squeeze shut, every muscle in his body tensing, going rigid as he falls over the edge.

His bilingual expletives cut off into a long, drawn-out moan as his cock twitches, thick ropes of cum spilling out in messy spurts, splattering against his fist, swirling into the milky bathwater. The petals float lazily across the surface, some clinging to his skin, as the evidence of his release drifts around him.

You stand there, heart pounding, frozen as your brain tries to catch up with your pussy.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, fumbling with the camera as you stop the recording. You quickly move to pack everything up and try your damndest not to look at him.

“Wait, don’t—” Javier’s voice is still hoarse, but there’s a touch of urgency to it now, breaking through the post-orgasm haze. You hear the water sloshing violently behind you as he moves, and you know he’s getting out of the tub. “Just… hang on.”

“No. I-I gotta go,” you stammer, your hands frantically packing up the camera, the lens cap slipping through your fingers. You try to grab it, but your nerves are shot and it fumbles. Thankfully, it doesn’t take damage. You’d hate to hear Robbie bitch at you for breaking the brand-new camera.

Just get out of here is the only thought running through your mind. Every time you’re around him lately, you end up a confused, horny, exasperated mess, and you can’t handle it anymore.

“Hey—wait!” Javier slips as he tries to step out of the tub, nearly falling as he reaches for you, his wet feet squeaking against the floor. You turn just in time to see him catch himself, water dripping from his body, his skin still flushed from what just happened.

“What the hell?” You shoot him a look, “You’re gonna break your neck trying to stop me from leaving—”

“I wasn’t—fuck, just let me talk for a second.” He runs a hand through his soaked hair, water dripping down his neck, over the curve of his shoulders, and you hate how even now, you’re distracted by how good he looks. He reaches for the towel and loosely wraps it around his waist. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Neither did I,” you snap, stuffing your gear into your bag, not caring how haphazardly it’s packed. “This— this isn’t what I signed up for. I’m here to work, remember? Not… whatever the fuck that was.”

He steps closer, reaching for your arm, but you yank it away before he can touch you. The last thing you need is his hands on you right now, reminding you of everything you shouldn’t want.

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice softens, but there’s a frustration beneath it, like he’s grappling with the same confusion you are. “I wasn’t trying to mess with you, okay? I just… I don’t know what the hell is happening between us either.”

You stop, finally meeting his gaze. There’s something in his eyes that pulls at the part of you that’s freakishly tethered to him, but you can’t let that get to you now. Not when everything feels so damn complicated.

“Javier, this—” You struggle for words, shaking your head. “This can’t keep happening. I can’t—” You pause, your breath catching. I can’t have you. “I don’t want you,” you correct yourself.

His jaw clenches, muscles ticking under the strain. “Stop bullshitting me,” he growls, eyes narrowing.

“I’m not,” you shoot back, but it comes out too quickly, too rehearsed.

“You’re lying through your fuckin’ teeth, and it’s pathetic. What is so wrong with giving me a chance?” He keeps circling back to this— chances.

One thing about him, he knows how to trigger a fucking migraine. 

“Everything!” The word bursts out of you like a confession. “Everything about this is wrong. It’s why I’ve been trying to stay away since day one, but you’re so— ugh!” You throw your hands up, exasperated, the bathroom suddenly feeling too small and claustrophobic. He’s got you spinning in circles, tying you up in knots, and you can’t think straight around him.

Without a second thought, you turn to leave, your feet moving as if you’re fucking levitating. So what if you’ve made a habit of running away from him? You don’t owe him shit.

“Nena—” Desperation laces his voice and that stupid nickname makes your skin curl. “I don’t want you to leave like this.”

“Well, too bad,” you snap over your shoulder. “I’m leaving so you can’t sweet-talk me into anything.” The slam of the door echoes behind you, a final punctuation to your statement.

As you step out into the hallway, the distant sounds of people fucking filter through the air, kind of grounding you back to the real world.

You can’t keep working with him, not if every interaction is going to end like this. You make a mental note to talk to Robbie after today’s shoot. No more Peña.

The day drags on, the tension from earlier still lingering, but now, sitting outside on the shaded patio, you feel a small reprieve.

A half-eaten sandwich rests before you on the table, your eyes lazily tracing the lines of the zero-edge pool that blends into the horizon. The soft rustle of palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze lulls you into a sense of temporary peace. You glance around, taking in the pristine luxury surrounding you. Rich people really have it made, you think, marveling at the extravagance of someone else’s life.

The spat with Javier lingers but you’ve done your best to ignore it by keeping busy. The other shoots happening in the house have kept you distracted, but you know what’s coming: the last scene of the day— with him— and the new girl, Mariella. A small sigh escapes your lips as you sink deeper into the patio chair, absolutely dreading it.

Your tranquility is shattered when you feel a presence nearby. Already anticipating another confrontation with Javier, you steel yourself and don’t even bother looking up before snapping, “Oh my god, can you just leave me alone—”

The words get jammed in your throat as your eyes land on Frankie, not Javier. He stands there, looking taken aback, a paper bag in one hand and an awkward smile tugging at his lips. You instantly feel like a bitch.

“Shit— sorry,” you stammer, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I thought you were someone else.”

Frankie lets out a small chuckle, brown eyes softening as he rubs the back of his neck. “No worries, I can leave if you want—”

“No, no,” you say quickly, waving him off. “Please, stay. I didn’t mean to be snappy.”

He hesitates for a moment before motioning to the empty chair across from you. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head, and he lowers himself into the seat, setting his lunch down. The small talk starts easily, flowing naturally as you both munch on your food. He tells you about his daughter, a proud smile on his face as he recounts how she’s the light of his life. Then he goes on about how his friends call him Catfish because of some dumb inside joke, and also the fact that he’s a retired pilot. It somehow doesn’t surprise you— the career fits him.

“How do you go from flying helicopters to shooting porn?” you ask, the question half serious, half teasing as you lean back in your chair, eyes hidden behind your sunglasses.

Frankie raises an eyebrow and smirks, clearly amused. “Shit happens,” he says with a shrug. “How do you go from having a film production degree to spending your days staring at tits and ass?”

A wry smile tugs at your lips. You tilt your head, pausing for effect. “... Shit happens,” you echo, the irony not lost on either of you.

He snorts, taking a slow sip of his water, the sound of his laughter rolling into the lazy afternoon air. You can’t help but steal a glance from behind your shades, your gaze wandering over his rugged features.

There’s something about the way the sun hits him just right, casting a golden glow over his tanned skin. You swallow, feeling a subtle pull in your chest, an unexpected attraction. He’s not flashy, not like the other guys you’re used to working with— there’s an unspoken confidence in his ease, a solidness that makes you want to keep looking.

“So… who’d you think I was? Just then?” He asks, adjusting his cap.

You try not to let your small smile falter. “Oh, just an annoying coworker.”

“Ah, the kind who shows up at the worst times, huh?”

“Exactly,” you reply with a laugh, “You know the type.”

Frankie leans in just slightly, lowering his voice. “Well, I’m glad I’m not that guy.” There’s a flicker of flirtation in his tone, his eyes lingering a beat too long. “But if you ever need someone to… keep him under control, you just let me know. Got the remedy for that right here.” 

He exaggeratedly flexes his biceps, and the snug t-shirt he’s wearing pulls taut around his arms, highlighting their impressive size.

You can’t help but admire the view— he’s really fun to look at, all charming smiles and playful confidence.

“I might just take you up on that, actually,” you reply, matching his energy with a teasing smile of your own. “I could definitely use someone who knows how to handle things.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his pink lips. “I’m more than equipped for that, trust me.”

For a second, it feels like the two of you are in your own little world— until, of course, it comes crashing down.

A voice cuts through the moment like a knife. “We’re ready for the last scene.”

You turn to see Javier standing there, arms crossed, jaw tight, his gaze flicking between you and Frankie. His entire posture screams annoyance.

“And who are you?” Frankie retorts, squinting one eye against the harsh sunlight, playful defiance dancing in his tone.

Javier doesn’t seem to like that response at all. “I’m ready to get this shit done with,” he snaps, and you narrow your eyes, practically shooting daggers at him.

Frankie clears his throat, sizing up Javier’s bristling energy. “Right.”

You catch the word presumido slip from his lips— the Spanish insult that has you exhaling a light laugh through your nose, because he’s so spot on and he doesn’t even know it.

Both of you stand, Frankie gathering the remnants of your lunch. “If you’d like some company down by the beach later, I’ll still be around,” he adds smoothly, sliding the proposition in there as casually as if he were just suggesting grabbing coffee. You almost don’t mind him crashing your solo date.

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, pushing your chair in. “It would be great to not have to take the taxi back, but I was willing to do it for a nice afternoon by the water.” You can feel Javier’s possessive stare burning into you from across the way.

Frankie, absolutely unbothered, leans in closer, a charming grin on his face. “Here’s my number if you need that ride.” A pen appears out of nowhere, and he scribbles down his digits on a clean corner of his napkin, tearing it off with an effortless confidence before handing it to you.

“Definitely,” you say with a flirty smile, tucking the napkin into your pocket, feeling a thrill against the scowling presence of the spectator watching from the sliding glass door 

Frankie branches off to use the restroom and you push past Javier, no intention of speaking to him until—

“If you spent less time flirting with the crew and more time focusing on your job, we’d be finished by now.”

You can practically taste his jealousy.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him, your patience running thin. “Really, Javi? You’re jealous of Frankie? That’s what this is about? Did our last conversation not put shit in perspective for you?”

He steps closer, eyes hard, voice low. “Jealous? Of him?” He scoffs, but the tension in his jaw betrays him. “I just don’t appreciate having to wait because you’re too busy cozying up to someone else. Especially someone who looks like they just got picked up off the side of the road.”

“And you wonder why I don’t like you.” Is all you can say, brushing past him yet again, his presence looming heavy as you head toward the living room where the last scene is set to be shot.

The moment Robbie goes on with his usual pre-shoot rundown, your attention shifts to the newbie Mariella immediately, drowning out his usual spiel.

The girl— and she is a girl, no matter what the paperwork says— looks painfully young. Her cropped tee hugging her braless chest, barely keeping her breasts from spilling out, and those flimsy pajama shorts riding high on her thighs. It’s the kind of outfit that makes you uneasy— one you’ve seen too many times in this industry, designed to play into the fantasies of men who want their women to look barely legal.

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sour taste of frustration building in the back of your throat. This is the part of the job that gnaws at you— the undercurrent of exploitation that no one acknowledges.

You’re not naive, you know exactly what sells in porn. You know what these people want to watch, what they get off on. The younger, the better. 

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier to stomach when you’re standing on set, watching it play out in real time.

Just as Mariella positions herself, preparing for the camera to roll, you can’t stop yourself. The words come out before you can think to censor them. “How old are you?”

Suddenly, everyone’s attention shifts to you. Robbie. Steve. Frankie. Even Javier, who’s lounging in the corner, waiting for his moment to shine. They all freeze, the casual banter dying off as your question lingers in the air. Mariella blinks, looking around as if unsure who you’re even talking to.

“I—I turned twenty last week.”

Your expression hardens, and the disapproval is written all over your face. “She’s not even old enough to drink, and you’re having her fuck Javier?” Your eyes cut to Robbie, who’s staring at you like you’ve just sprouted another head.

The silence stretches for a beat too long before he scoffs, shaking his head like you’re being ridiculous. “I don’t pay you to hear your opinions on shit,” he snaps, clearly irritated. “Just sit there and record the damn thing.”

Your eyes roll hard enough that it almost hurts. “You’re all a bunch of perverts.”

Poor Frankie catches a stray with that one. It’s like everything is grating on you in ways it usually doesn’t. Normally, you can shove it down and keep your head low because, at the end of the day, you’re just here for the paycheck.

“Perverts pay your bills, sweetheart,” Robbie throws back, all nonchalant. What’s worse is that he’s right.

Moments like this make you wonder how long you can keep doing this without losing a part of yourself in the process.

You look around at the other three men, none of them stepping up to say anything in your defense. Useless.

You shouldn’t be surprised, but it stings. Even Javier, usually quick with a sarcastic quip or biting comment, says nothing. He just sits there, stuffing out a cigarette that’s magically appeared between his lips.

It feels like a betrayal, even though you know better than to expect any different.

And Mariella? She’s clearly distracted, caught up in the magnetic pull Javier has over people. The way she’s looking at him with that starstruck, wide-eyed awe only makes it worse. You can see it in her expression, the way her gaze flickers over him like she’s already imagining how it’s going to feel when he fucks her. Thinking with her pussy instead of having common sense.

You recognize it because you were just in her exact position, drawn into that same orbit. You find empathy for her, but not the other motherfuckers.

The room descends into awkward silence, as if everyone’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you’re not in the mood for a full-blown argument, so you shut down, slumping into the chair behind your camera with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. 

You know it’s only a matter of time before all these feelings you’ve been aggressively pushing down come back up and make you snap, but for now, you continue to force it all away.

You’re assigned to shoot the stoic, wide shots while Frankie’s in charge of the close-ups, and honestly? You’re relieved. The last thing you need is to be up close, watching this trash unfold.

The scene starts with the typical, raunchy premise: Dad pays babysitter with his cock! It explains Mariella’s barely-there outfit and the cluttered coffee table with school notebooks, setting the scene.

Then there’s Javier who looks the part too; dressed in dark blue slacks, a typical white collared shirt with a few buttons popped open to give that I’m stressed, come take care of me vibe.

He’s the picture of temptation, and it’s obvious Mariella’s already in the clouds.

The filming begins and they share that cheesy, erotic dialogue and lustful touches. You feel yourself sink further into the chair, silently counting down the minutes until you’re decompressing by the beach.

She sinks to her knees before him, her doe eyes looking up at him with that practiced innocence they all seem to perfect so quickly. She reaches for the buttons on his slacks, her delicate fingers fumbling just a little before she pulls down the zipper and tugs at the waistband. She nuzzles her face against his thigh, brushing her lips against his skin, and finally pulls out his cock. Even soft, it’s still an impressive size— but it’s definitely not how this was supposed to go.

“Well, are you going to suck it or just stare at it?” Javier snaps, his tone cutting through the air with an edge that feels too sharp, too real. It doesn’t sound like the crudeness that’s meant to spice up the scene.

His hand shoots out and tangles in her hair, yanking her closer. He’s rougher than usual, harsher, as he forces her mouth onto him.

She wraps her lips around his head, suckling softly at first, then taking him deeper into her mouth. She’s trying to do her job, playing the part of the eager babysitter, but something’s off.

Javier’s head tilts back, eyes squeezed shut, but it’s not the usual look of pleasure that crosses his face. It’s more like he’s concentrating, forcing himself to feel something that isn’t there.

You can’t help it— your eyes flick around the room, looking at the rest of the crew. No one seems to be noticing what you’re seeing, their eyes all honed in on the action in front of them.

But you’re catching the small details like you always do.

After a few more moments, it’s clear that it’s not happening. Javier lets out a frustrated curse, pulling out of her mouth with an audible, wet pop. “Fuck—just, give me a second,” he grumbles, stepping back. Mariella wipes the saliva from her lips with the back of her hand, looking up at him with a mix of confusion and hesitation.

You take that as your cue. Reaching over, you stop the recording, your finger hesitating on the button for only a moment before pressing it. Frankie does the same, Steve lowers his mic and pulls his headset off.

Javier runs a hand through his hair, his eyes darting to the floor, like he’s trying to avoid looking at anyone directly. “I just need a minute,” he says again, but it’s more to himself than to anyone else.

Your gaze lingers on him for a second longer than you intend, and your mind flashes back to earlier, to the way he was with you. The memory is sharp and clear, the contrast striking. He’d come undone for you without hesitation, without needing any coaxing or forcing. Just words. But now, with Mariella kneeling in front of him, offering herself up like a gift, he’s struggling. 

“How long will this minute take? We gotta be outta here soon so get it up before I get one of these two to take your place.”

Javier scoffs, dismissive, “Tape wouldn’t fucking sell.”

“Well one featuring a soft dick won’t either,” comes the retort, and the two of them start their back-and-forth bickering.

You rub at your temples, trying to ease the pressure building behind your eyes. This has to be some weird-ass dream; it sure as hell feels like it. Maybe you’re still in bed, blissfully sleeping until three in the afternoon.

Javier storms off and Steve puts his equipment down. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Robbie just waves him away. “Take five,” he mutters to the rest of you, going in the opposite direction. This is such a mess, and poor Mariella remains on her knees, picking at her cuticles. 

“Please get up and sit on the couch. You look pathetic,” you say to her, not cruelly but bluntly. It’s not her fault, but the sight of her there is making you itch. She complies like a chastised child. 

Frankie drops down beside you, letting out a breath that mirrors your own. “These things usually go like this?” He takes his hat off, ruffling his hair before putting it back on.

“No,” shit has just been weird amongst this group for weeks now. “Burnout is inevitable, I guess.” You’re not about to sit there and shit-talk Javier, despite everything. You might have a mountain of complicated feelings when it comes to him, but you won’t kick him while he’s down.

Before Frankie can respond, Robbie comes barreling back into the room, his face flushed with anger. His eyes lock onto you, and you can see the accusation in them before he even opens his mouth.

“This is your fault,” he spits out, voice sharp, acidic. “All that shit you were talking earlier— now he’s fucking broken.”

You narrow your eyes, standing your ground. “Excuse me?” you snap, incredulous. “I was making a valid point. How the hell is it my fault that he grew a conscience?”

“Y’know,” he starts, his words dripping with the kind of vile, misogynistic shit that makes your blood boil. “You’d do me more good in front of the camera. Have somethin’ shoved up in there to keep you fucking quiet.”

The reaction is immediate. You shoot up from your seat so fast the chair scrapes against the floor, the sound sharp and angry, mirroring how you feel. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Frankie stands too, his face hardening as he takes a step in front of you, finally coming to your defense. “Watch it,”  he warns, and it feels like the whole situation could explode into something much worse.

Robbie, of course, just sneers “What? You gonna defend her? She’s been a pain in my ass for weeks—”

“I’m done.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can think them through, but they feel right. 

You’re tired— so damn tired— of this whole mess. Of dealing with assholes like Robbie and Javier who think they can get away with saying whatever they want. “I quit.” 

Your boss’s mouth opens as if he’s about to say something else, but you cut him off with a cutting glare. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you treat me like shit because your precious Javier can’t get his dick hard. Go fuck yourself, Robbie.”

You don’t wait for a response. You turn on your heel and head for the door, your heart pounding in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’ll double up on shifts at the bar or go back to waiting tables like you did throughout college. Whatever keeps you away from this bullshit. 

As you stride down the hallway toward the entrance, you pass Javier and Steve. Javier’s face is stormy, brows knitted together as if he’s still reeling from whatever heated discussion they just had. 

The moment he spots you, his expression shifts. There’s a flicker of surprise, maybe even concern.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks.

You yank the heavy, probably expensive for no reason, front door open, the sound echoing through the hallway. “I just quit,” you snap, voice sharp as glass. “See you never.”

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @libre-sol . @cherrysugarx . @goodvibesonly421 .

finally started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out. muchas gracias mis putitas (gn) (endearingly) 🖤

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.

AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3

“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”

Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”

You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”

You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.

“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”

He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.

So fucking beautiful.

“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”

Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"

It's all I want. You think.

"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.

You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."

That's all I want. He thinks.

Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"

He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.

and it'll crush him.

The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."

"So?" He asks.

"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."

It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’

The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.

So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.

Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.

"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.

Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.

You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."

“Stop that.” He seethed.

It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.

Never with you.

Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.

"What--"

He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”

“Eddie…”

“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”

You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.

It’s overwhelming.

You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?

His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.

Fuck it.

“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.

You exhale his name, “Eddie,”

“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?

Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”

He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”

Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.

“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”

With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.

“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”

Warm warm warm.

It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.

Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.

There’s no one but you.

You’re everything.

I love you, please, let me love you.

Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.

“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.

Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”

“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”

He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”

Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"

He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.

"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."

You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.

"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.

Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"

A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.

You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."

You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"

You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."

Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."

"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."

He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.

"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."

"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.

You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.

"God, yes."

He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.

"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."

Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"

He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.

Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.

"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”

The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.

“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.

He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”

You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”

Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.

“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.

“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.

The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.

Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.

Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”

You’re both breathing heavy.

Now it’s his turn.

Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.

When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.

God damn...he's fucking huge.

"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"

Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.

"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."

"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.

You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.

"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.

His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"

You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.

"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.

Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.

Such a good girl.

Taking me so well.

My pretty girl.

Mine.

Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.

"Eddie, fuck, I--"

"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."

His words are like a spell.

You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.

"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"

You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."

"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.

He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.

"Hi." He says quietly.

You giggle softly, "Hi."

"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."

You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"

"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.

Nothing.

You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."

Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"

You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."

He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.

Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."

Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."

[cherryobx]

pretty girl

request: here

pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

summary: Steve has been begging to take you on a date for weeks but you've said no every time because you think you're not pretty enough for him

warnings: reader is pictured as fem and has hair that can be pushed behind the ear, being insecure about acne, steve is a simp, they're coworkers, reader wears jewelry

wc: 1.1k

“Why won’t you go out with me?” Steve asks, leaning against the driver side of your car so you can’t get in the car without him moving. You were both on closing shift tonight so you walked to the parking lot together.

“I already told you, I just don’t want to.” It’s a lie. A big fucking lie. In fact, it’s your dream to go out on a date with Steve. He’s handsome, sweet and has always been very nice to you but it’s your own insecurities holding you back.

Ever since puberty hit, you’ve been struggling with acne. You’ve never once thought that other people with acne were any less beautiful but you just couldn’t get yourself to like how it looked on you, how the bumps and scars littered your face. 

“That’s bullshit. I know you like me. I just don’t understand why you won’t go out with me,” he ponders.

“My reasoning should be enough for you to back off.” You cross your arms on your chest, using them as some sort of barrier between you and him, hiding yourself.

“Have I done something to you for you to hate me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then go out with me.”

“No,” you stand on your ground. “Can you please stop blocking my car so I can go home now?”

“No.” And he stands on his. He’s not giving up and you can’t help but lowkey admire his ambition.

“No?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“Give me a real reason. Tell me honestly why you don’t want to go out with me,” he demands and you sigh at that. You know he won’t leave you alone unless you actually tell him. 

Steve prides himself in knowing you well enough to know when you’re lying. Couple months into working at the Family Video together he managed to spot the tells of you lying. He saw it every day first hand. They were always little white lies. Like when someone asked about a movie they wanted to rent out but you told them that it wasn’t available at the moment. The truth was that it was, he checked, but you wanted to take it home yourself. But he noticed how you pushed hair behind your ear and then pulled it back out from behind it many times. He noticed how you fidgeted with your rings and bracelets or touched the necklace you never took off. He noticed.

You take a quick glance around to make sure that there are no people near enough to hear you confess your biggest insecurity to your coworker. Not that anyone would really care. But you do. It’s something you don’t really voice out loud and write in private into your diary at night when everyone is sleeping.

“Are you sure you want to go out with me?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t. What is this about?” His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks confused.

“Don’t you find me, I don’t know, ugly?” Your voice is now quieter, vulnerable.

He’s taken aback. His words are almost choked up. “Ugly? No, I find you really pretty actually. Why would I think that?”

“You’re just saying that. You can be honest with me, Steve. My acne. Is it not making me unattractive or something?”

He pushes himself off your car and stands up straight. “I am being honest. I think you’re the most gorgeous girl in Hawkins.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not! Your acne does not make you any less beautiful to me.” He takes a step closer into your space, his eyes remaining on yours. It’s a little thing but you notice it. Most people’s attention is on the skin of your face but Steve is staring straight into your eyes, almost like he’s seeing into your soul. It makes you feel vulnerable.

Your heartbeat speeds up and you can feel your heart thumping loudly in your chest at his closeness. His hand comes up to your face and he pushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I want to take you out because I like you. I like spending time with you. I like how you make me laugh. I like how you fix my hair when you notice it’s messed up. I like how you lie to customers from time to time.” That pulls a smile from you. “ I like how you look at me. Because I look at you the same way.”

“Are you serious?”

“As death.” He places his hand over his heart. 

“I don't feel pretty enough for you, Steve. There are so many girls who’d do anything to be with you. You should be with someone who looks and feels as pretty as you are.”

“You think I’m pretty?” There’s a cocky smirk on his face.

“Was that all you heard?” You scrunch your face.

“No. I’m sorry. I was joking,” he chuckles nervously. “If you don’t feel ‘pretty enough’ for me,” he uses air quotes, “I want to help you feel that you are. I want you to show you how beautiful I think you are. I want to take you out and show you off because you deserve it. You deserve to be treated like a princess because that’s who you are.”

You almost tear up at his words. He seems to genuinely mean what he says and it’s quite literally pulling on your heartstrings. “Really?”

“Really. Let me take you out, please.”

“Okay.” Your voice is barely above a whisper but it’s enough for him to hear. The smile on his face is huge as he wraps his arms around you tightly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. You laugh and hold onto him tightly.

“Yes! You won’t regret it, I swear.” 

When he finally places you back on the ground, he keeps his arms around you, no space between you two as your bodies are pressed together. 

His eyes dart to your lips. “Can I kiss you or is that like reserved for the first date?”

It pulls another smile from you. “It is, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

It’s all you need to say before he kisses you, a hand coming to rest on the side of your neck, fingers in your hair. It’s gentle and sweet but oh so perfect.

“How about tomorrow night? We’re both off.”

“How do you know my work schedule?” You narrow your eyes at him.

He shrugs, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“So?”

“Tomorrow works.”

He presses a small peck to your lips before pulling away and backing towards his own car. “I’ll pick you up at 7 then.”

“Sure.”

“See you tomorrow, pretty girl.” His nickname for you causes your cheeks to heat up and you grin.

Maybe you should’ve given into him and his relentless begging sooner. 

[ashwhowrites]

So I had this idea, that Dustin had two older sisters who are twins. Steve didn’t notice anything while at high school he doesn’t know. So one day he comes into work and asks Robin, “did you know about the Henderson twins? And why is one dating Eddie The Freak Munson?” Dustin starts trying to get Steve to date his other sister. Steve agrees reluctantly but doesn’t expect the sister to be hot and dislike him, bc of high school. He has work to do.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting🫶🏻

Date my sister

Steve was popular in high school, which meant everyone knew him but he knew no one outside his friend group. He started to notice people once he graduated and realized being popular hurt you more in the long run. Which is why his friends are Robin and freshmen.

Steve walked into work, a sigh on his lips as he clocked in. Robin had been bouncing on her feet all morning waiting for him to arrive. She had new information and she loved talking to Steve. He was a talker like her, so he didn't get annoyed with her last words.

"Did you know Dustin has twin sisters? Around our age, and one of them is dating Eddie Munson!" Robin lived for gossip and Steve was a sucker for it.

"Holy shit, no way," Steve scoffed, "I've known that kid for years and never heard about them."

"Yeah! They graduated with you, you never noticed them?" Robin asked.

"Well no, but I didn't look outside my friend group. But still! How could Dustin never say anything? And why have I been using my gas when he had two sisters to drive his ass around." Steve knew he had to talk to Dustin the next time he saw him.

~~~

Dustin was on Steve's tail before he could confront Dustin.

"Please! Ever since Eddie has been around, Y/N has gotten more lonely. Which means she's getting a temper and being moody. I think you would like her, just ask her out." Dustin pleaded. He needed his house to be less angsty and more fun.

"Dustin, I don't know. No offense, but a girl version of you doesn't sound like my type."

"I've seen girls you've asked out. You are desperate enough to ask anyone." Dustin argued back, a bored look on his face.

"Shut up," Steve groaned

~

Steve knocked on Henderson's door, then moved his hands to his back pockets. He waited for the door to open, thinking of how to ask Y/N out when he'd never seen her before. He promised Dustin to give it a shot, but one shot.

He looked as the door opened, and his jaw dropped.

"Dustin isn't here," she said, already closing the door. But Steve shoved his foot in, hissing as she kept closing it.

"I'm here for Y/N," he said, a sigh of relief when she opened the door again. A suspicious look in her eyes.

"Why?" she asked

Steve wasn't sure which twin he was talking to, but he prayed it was Y/N. Because she was beautiful, and Steve could already feel that he needed her. She wore casual clothes to relax at home, her legs on display. Steve couldn't help but check her out, his eyes leading him up her tank top and back to her face.

"Y/N, WHO'S AT THE DOOR?"

Steve smiled as his prayers were answered.

"STEVE" she yelled back. A good enough answer for her mom as she went silent.

"I want to ask you out on a date," Steve admitted. He stood terrified under her heated eyes.

"Oh really?" She asked, her arms crossed with a scoff. "Why's that? You obviously had no idea it was me when I opened the door. You had no clue who I was in high school, so why are you randomly interested?"

Steve had no idea if lying or telling the truth was best, but he went with the truth.

"Dustin wanted me to ask you out and at f-"

"Yeah, I don't need the charity date." She cut him off as she slammed the door shut.

Well, he asked and that's all he promised Dustin.

~~~

"YOU IDIOT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOOD AT TALKING TO GIRLS" Dustin yelled as he raced into the video store.

Robin immediately laughed with a scoff, "Who ever said that?"

"One of you at a time please!" Steve begged, moving his eyes to the younger and pissed-off boy.

"She asked why I was suddenly asking her out and I wasn't going to lie. She'd see right through it. I figured she'd be less pissed off. It was like the second she saw me, she hated me." Steve explained.

"Well, she's pissed! I had to listen to twenty minutes of her bitching me out on the way to school and when she picked me up. Turns out she hates you, dude! Being an asshole in high school really impacted some people." Dustin explained

"Yeah, I learned that. But I asked her out and she said no. So my job is done." Steve said, holding his hands in surrender.

"Then you need to make her like you!" Dustin argued

"Why?" Steve asked, his hands on the counter as he leaned over to stare at him.

"She'll never admit it, but she's lonely. She needs someone, and well I trust you to not hurt her" Dustin shrugged

"But she hates me, why would she change her mind?" Steve asked

"Show her the new you. The changed Steve. Sweep her off of her feet. Do whatever dumb stuff you do to make girls like you." Dustin explained.

"I'll try," Steve sighed. Because honestly, he hadn't stopped thinking about her.

~~~

The next time he saw her, she was bringing Dustin to the video store. He didn't notice he was fixing his hair until Robin poked fun at him. He shrugged her off and walked to open the door. Dustin gave him a sly thumbs up.

"Welcome in," Steve greeted

"Since when do you open doors for customers?" Y/N asked, but walking through the opened door.

"I don't, just you," he said, smirking as he walked behind her cutting Dustin off.

"Oh right, now trying to win me over?" Y/N asked, smiling over her shoulder.

"Let me know if it ever starts working," he said with a wink. She hated herself for watching him walk away.

~

Y/N was relaxing in her front yard. A book opened as she felt the warm breeze through her hair.

"Hello, gorgeous," Steve said as he walked up to her. She could feel the sun being blocked by his body, making her look up.

Steve had his hands in his pockets, smiling down at her with those pink lips. She cursed at herself for wanting to smile back.

"How can I help you?" she asked, shielding her eyes with her hand.

"Dustin wants to go to the arcade, you wanna come?" He asked, "promise you won't be the third wheel." He scrunched down, his knees bent as now he was closer to her eye level.

She inhaled his cologne and hated how she loved the smell of it. It was easier to hate him when he wasn't right next to her.

"I'll pass," she said with as much sass as she could. Trying to keep up her unbothered attitude. She went back to her book, ignoring the burn she felt from his eyes.

"Maybe next time," he said, standing up as Dustin walked out.

~

"Dustin please go with me?" Y/N begged. Her favorite band was in town and she really wanted to go. Her sister had a date with Eddie and she refused to ditch. None of her friends liked the band, and she didn't want to go alone.

"I already have plans with Mike, but you know who is free tonight?" Dustin hinted as he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Absolutely not," Y/N said, shaking her head. She knew what he was going to say, and she could not be alone with Steve. It was getting harder to keep up her act when being with him broke it all down. She can't imagine being alone with him, she's pretty sure she would fall for him. And she couldn't. She needed to be strong.

"Here's his number. Just call him," Dustin said. He went out the door and left Steve's number behind.

She stared at the digits until they began to move.

"Fuck me," she sighed to herself. She punched in the numbers and listened as it rang.

"Steve," she froze as she heard his voice on the line. She took a deep breath and reminded herself it was just a boy.

"Hey Steve, it's Y/N," she said. She could hear him starting to move, and a lot of commotion.

Steve hissed out as he stubbed his toe against his bed, trying to ignore the pain as he rushed to the other side of his room. He was already stripping out of his PJs.

"Oh hey!" he said through heavy breaths, "what's up?" His voice cracked and he smacked himself in the face.

"Look you weren't my first choice so don't think this means anything. But, would you like to go to a concert with me?" She asked, closing her eyes. A part of her already regretted asking.

"Um yeah, when is it? I can take off work." He asked, he could feel his heart racing so fast.

"In like two hours," she said

Steve looked at his watch. "Shit, um yes! I need to rearrange some things but I'll be at your place in an hour."

And with that, he hung up.

After an hour, Y/N was finishing getting ready. She finished her lipstick as Steve knocked on the door. She smiled at her reflection and began walking towards the front door. She smoothed out her shirt and jeans before she opened it.

Once it was open, Steve came into view. He stood there in a blue short sleeve and dark jeans. And a beautiful bouquet of roses.

"Wow," Steve said, rubbing his chin as he took her in. "You're always gorgeous, but wow."

"Thank you," she said as she felt her face burn. "You look very nice too."

"Thank you, these are for you." He said as he handed over the flowers. She reached forward to grab them, shivering as his touch sent electricity through her.

"Thank you, Steve. But you know this isn't a date." She clarified.

"I know, but still felt like I shouldn't show up empty-handed."

~

They arrived at the small bar, Steve was a gentleman as he opened her car door and the bar door. She hated how sweet he was. He grabbed her a drink and they moved through the crowd.

"Ready?" she asked, a playful smile on her face as she stood in the middle of the pit.

"For what?" he yelled into her ear, shocked when her hand slipped into his. He felt his face burn as he looked down to see their hands interlocked.

"TO GET TO THE FRONT," she yelled. Steve went to say something but then she began pushing through the crowd. He gripped her hand tighter as she made her way to the front, he kept apologizing to everyone.

He felt like it was wrong but once they made it to the very front of the stage, he was amazed by the stage.

"Oh wow, I've never been front row before," he said. He was hoping she wouldn't remember that they were holding hands.

"It's the best way to experience a concert. I've seen them every time they come to town and refuse to not be front row." Steve loved the way her eyes lit up as she talked about it. And how her body softly moved to the music that played throughout the bar's speakers.

"I haven't experienced many concerts. Always too loud for me," Steve laughed, taking a sip of his cold drink.

"Oh, if you don't like them, you didn't have to say yes," Y/N said, feeling a tad guilty for dragging him into something he didn't enjoy.

"Are you kidding? No way in the world I would say no to you asking me out," he said, a charming smile on his face.

I asked you to join me! Not ask you out," she said, but her smile was playful. It seemed like she was warming up to him.

He was in awe of her smile, but then the lights went dark and everyone screamed. They stared at each other as the stage lit up, not looking away until the band began to play. She turned to look at the stage, and he kept his eyes on hers.

She let go of his hand to clap. Jumping as the band performed. Steve had never seen her so loose and fun, not that he had much time to be with her. He was happy to be here in the moment, and so happy Robin took his shift.

The rest of the show went amazing. Steve danced to every song with her, holding his drink, and keeping eyes on everyone around her. It seemed her drink broke down some walls as she moved until her body was pressed against Steve's. He tried to keep his calm as her ass pressed against his jeans. He placed his free hand on her hip, the other one holding his unfinished drink. Their bodies moved together to the live music, he felt like his head was in the clouds as he inhaled her perfume and shampoo.

He could feel himself getting slightly turned on, chugging the rest of his drink and tossing it to the floor. The drink made his body hot, and her body felt hot when he placed both hands on her hips. He started dancing against her, she turned around and hooked her arms around his neck.

"ENJOYING THE BAND?" She yelled into his ear, her lips ghosting over his ear.

"I'M ENJOYING SOMETHING ELSE," he yelled into her ear, pulling away. His face was inches away from hers, he was getting lost in her eyes and didn't notice he was leaning in.

Her heart sped up as she looked into his deep brown eyes, she looked down at his lips as he leaned in. She softly played with the end of his hair near his neck as she closed the space between them.

Steve was slightly stunned as she kissed him, but kissed her back. His hands moved up to the bottom of her back as he deepened the kiss. The sound of the band and cheering fans faded as she felt his tongue slip inside her mouth. She tangled her hand in his hair, yanking it. She bit down on his lip and used her grip on his hair to pull him away. He stared in awe as she yanked his bottom lip and then released it.

"GOODNIGHT EVERYBODY!"

The band left the stage, and the crowd began to break apart. But they stood tangled together.

"Do you kiss like that to everyone you ask to join you?" Steve joked

"I don't, just you," she said, leaning in and kissing him again.

Steve owed Dustin big time.

[agirlwhodreamsandwishes]

Never again

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you feel like you are not worthy of being part of the avengers, you discover someone who thinks exactly the opposite.

a/n. So, this is my first fanfic :). I would really appreciate if you tell me if you liked and your opinions about it! I hope I don't dissapoint anyone! Any advice would be appreciated. And please, remember English is not my first language.

Word count: 1.5k

Fluff, shy Bucky.

As a new avenger everything was hard for you. Not because the rest of the team wasn’t nice or understanding with you, but because of all the pressure you had to go through. Everyone in the city was looking at you all the time, at the new girl, questioning every move you made. Why wouldn’t they? You are the novelty, something new to talk about after a calm period of time. You were there for six months and you were already stressed. 

“Hey Y/N, you okay? You seem off.” You heard Wanda asking as she looked at you with a frown. You had made friends; Sam and Wanda were immediately your favorite people in the team since the first time you arrived, always so welcoming and nice. But you never tell them how you really felt; you didn’t want to be a bother, they all had their own worries and you didn’t want to be another one to add to the list. “Yeah! I’m just tired, I couldn’t sleep last night.” You try to fake a smile hoping she would buy it and stop asking.

Every day at night you go on a walk by a little beach near the compound— your safe place, a moment of peace in which you let your feelings out, crying while nobody is watching or listening to you. At least, you don’t think anyone notices your daily routine, you think you’re being cautious. But that’s not the case, there’s one person who has been watching you since almost the first time— Bucky Barnes, the cold and sometimes rude super soldier. 

Bucky Barnes was stunned the first time you met him, but you thought he didn’t care about you. He looked at you when you introduced yourself, nodded and left the room. You almost cried. Why was he that rude? The truth was that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. When you met him you didn’t look scared of him nor you didn’t seem to hate him. You were like a ray of sunshine, smiling and being nice. He couldn’t allow himself to be near you, he didn’t deserve you. But he started to notice your nightly walks and he couldn’t allow you to go alone. What if something happened to you? No, no, that couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

Bucky suffered each time he saw you cry, but he didn’t want to interfere, thinking you wouldn't want him near. So he tried to cheer you up from a safe distance. You received flowers (sunflowers, because they reminded him of you), your favorite candies and, even once, a book you wanted to read for a few weeks before he sent it to you. You didn’t know who was buying those things for you, you thought you had some fan like the other avengers had. 

“Hey! Sam! Look what I received today! Someone sent me some candles! They smell amazing!” Sam chuckled at your excitement looking discreetly at his super soldier best friend, who was sitting at the sofa, peeking at you from behind the book he was reading. “Y/N, that fan of yours must really like you a lot, doesn’t it look like that, Bucky?” Of course, he knew his friend, and he knew Bucky was head over heels for you. “Yeah, sure.” Bucky hid himself again behind the book, not before sending a death glare to his friend. You blush, realizing in that exact moment that he was there. You might have developed a tiny crush on him. Well, maybe not that tiny, but he was so handsome. And even though he barely talked to you, you loved when you saw him laughing and joking with Sam and Steve. It was a rare but beautiful sight.

It was night again, and the day had been really hard for you, you had made a mistake that caused the loss of some important files. The team was able to recover them, but still, you felt awful. It was like you only failed again and again. That night, you started walking by your comfort beach but you couldn’t see through all the tears falling down your eyes; it was too much. You sat in the sand and started crying; you couldn’t stop. 

You felt strong arms wrapping you. “I’m here.” You could recognise that voice anywhere. Bucky was there, with you, hugging you and telling you that he was there for you. You hugged him tight while crying more and more, while he caressed your hair. “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay.” 

When you calmed yourself, you didn’t want to move, you were too embarrassed to do something. Not only had someone seen you crying, but that someone was Bucky Barnes himself. “Y/N? Do you feel better now?” 

You nod and look at him, your face completely red. He chuckles when he sees how embarrassed you are. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m here for you if you need me.”

“I… I feel awful. What I did today… it could’ve ended really badly, Bucky. I’m only a burden; I don’t belong here. People are watching me fail everyday at something. I can’t anymore.” You try to not start crying again but you fail.

“Don’t say that That’s completely false, Y/N. You’re really important here. You don’t realize how helpful you are here.” He hugs you again and kisses your forehead while you keep crying. 

“Do you really believe that? I’m not that relevant; I’ve been here for six months.” You look at him again, still blushing.

“Don’t you realize how much we need you? It’s not only the fact that you are an amazing agent, it’s also because you always have a smile on your face, always smiling. You are always there when someone needs something, willing to help. You don’t want anyone to suffer, but you suffer alone. The team would not survive without you. I wouldn’t survive without you.” He whispered that last sentence and if it wasn’t for the fact that you were still hugging and you were so close to him, you would’ve missed it.”

“What?” You blushed again. “Bucky, what do you mean?” 

It’s his turn to blush, as he ignores your question. “You know, it’s not the first time I see you here… I just didn’t want to bother you. It seemed like you wanted to be alone and… yeah, today… I couldn’t just stare and do nothing.” 

“I appreciate it. I really do. I needed that hug.” You look straight in his eyes. “But can you answer my question, please?” You saw how he avoided your eyes and blushed more. You then realize that he hadn’t let you go off his arms, and you blush as you start to chuckle because you two look like idiots. 

“Are you really gonna make me answer that? Can we ignore it, please?” He knew he’d have to answer but he didn’t want to. 

“Yes, please.” You now looked at him with a serious expression and he realized that this was his chance, he was going to tell you how he feels about you.

“Okay, but please don’t interrupt me, I need to say this quickly” You nodded. “Y/N, I… since the fist time I saw you, you live rent free in my mind. You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. You truly are light; you bring sun to the darkest days. You remind me of a sunflower. When you started walking at night, I started too; I couldn’t let anything happen to you. When I saw you crying every night… my heart broke in a million pieces, I wanted to help you, be there for you everytime you needed me. But I didn’t know if you would’ve wanted me to be with you, I know that we are not that close, and I feel it’s my fault.” You didn’t know what to say; you stared at him in shock.

“Bucky, why? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? Why didn’t you talk to me? Or tried to be my friend?” You were trapped in his eyes, so blue you thought you could drown in them.

“I don’t deserve you, Y/N. I… I have something to confess. The flowers, the candles… It was me.” He looked away from your eyes.

“Look at me, Bucky, please.” He looked at you, then at your lips. The tension was palpable. You looked at his lips and then up at his eyes. When you saw the way he’s looking at you, you felt at home, safe. You had never felt as loved as in that moment. So you did it. You kissed him and the world stopped. It was just both of you; nothing else mattered. You felt safe with him and you knew you’d never be alone again.

“Bucky? I don’t want to do this walks alone again.” He laughed and wrapped his arms around you again, kissing your forehead. 

“Never again, love, never again”.

[adverbally]

We Know What We Know

Written for the @steddie-spooktober day two prompt “woods” | wc: 754 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: new relationship, making out | title from “The Woods” by Daughter

———

Steve has hooked up in the woods before, of course. He was the one who popularized Skull Rock as Hawkins’ premier make-out spot. He knows how intense it can be when the background noise of the forest goes quiet, just the wet sounds of kissing and heavy breathing and your own heartbeat thundering in your ears.

He just had no idea how different it would be with Eddie.

This thing between them is still new. It’s not that Steve is scared or anything; making out is basically the same whether it’s with a guy or a girl, and he definitely knows what he’s doing. Eddie might have less practice but what he lacks in experience, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm and eagerness to learn.

Even if the mechanics are the same, there’s just something special about being with Eddie, something Steve can’t quite put his finger on. Wandering hands and a hot mouth are familiar, as is the electric buzz of desire in his gut. But there’s this… glow, maybe, or lightness? A kind of airy warmth that Steve gets in his chest when he’s touching Eddie and Eddie’s touching him. It’s like a squeeze from the inside out. Like something in him is expanding, unlocking, something too big to be contained in his body.

Eddie presses Steve up against one of the thicker trees close to Skull Rock, and Steve is barely aware of the October chill or the scrape of bark against his back. A tongue sliding against his own, dexterous hands cradling his face, Eddie’s smoky leather scent mixing with the earthiness of the surrounding woods.

Eddie pops against the backdrop of autumn colors. The red and orange leaves bring out the warmth of his hair and eyes, like the dying trees around them, stark against his pale skin but in a way that highlights his flushed cheeks. Every time they pause to breathe, Steve pulls away a little just to look at him, memorizing every inch of Eddie’s face in the dappled afternoon sunlight.

When Eddie finally notices what Steve is up to, he ducks his head and laughs a little self-consciously. “What?”

“Nothing, you just…” There’s that feeling again, like he’s a helium balloon about to float away if Eddie stops touching him. “You’re so beautiful,” he confesses. “And a really good kisser.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinks at him, surprised by the compliment, before his mouth twists into a wry smile. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Steve can’t resist leaning in for another kiss, trying to erase the self-deprecation from Eddie’s lips with the press of his own. Then another, and another. “Nah, just you,” he finally answers, hoping it strikes the right balance between light-hearted and sincere so he doesn’t scare Eddie away.

“Just me, huh?” Eddie challenges him, sliding his hands into the back pockets of Steve’s jeans. “C’mon, I’ve heard all about the infamous Harrington charm. I’m sure you’ve always been a sweet-talker.”

This is what scares Steve. He can’t honestly tell Eddie how he makes him feel, not this early into their relationship. He doesn’t want to come on too strong and ruin things. But this is Eddie, he thinks, Eddie who is always so open and real. Eddie who wouldn’t want Steve to hide from him. So Steve tells the truth, shrugs and says, “None of them were you.”

The words linger in the air, a hush falling over the woods. No birdsong, no crunching leaves, no wind rustling the branches. Eddie stares at him in silent shock, looking like Steve just slapped him in the face and tilted his whole world on its axis.

“Sorry,” Steve rushes to apologize, “I just meant—”

Eddie takes a hand from Steve’s pocket and claps it over Steve’s mouth. “None of them were you, either,” he tells him solemnly. It sounds a lot like I love you, too.

Steve suddenly understands why Eddie had looked so gobsmacked, now that the sentiment is turned back on him. If not for the grounding presence of Eddie’s touch, Steve is sure he’d be totally unmoored, probably halfway to the moon by now. He grins and watches Eddie do the same.

“You gonna keep kissing me now?” Eddie teases. He waits for Steve to nod before removing his hand and capturing Steve’s lips with his own.

It’s almost dusk by the time they reluctantly part ways for the evening. The joyful glow in Steve’s chest lights his way home and warms him well beyond sundown.

[lexirosewrites]

Mob boss alpha Eddie meets a very pregnant omega Steve one day while he's searching for the perfect birthday gift for Wayne, who frequents the novelty gift shop Steve owns. Imagine Eddie's surprise when he walks in expecting to simply buy a present but instead meets the most beautiful person he's ever seen. He doesn't see a ring or a mating bite, just blank mole speckled skin and a dazzling smile. The two get to talking after Eddie asks for a recommendation, Steve just as sweet as he smells. Thus begins Eddie frequenting the shop just to talk, waiting for a time to subtly inquire about the omega's relationship status and the situation regarding the pup. He's been besotted since first laying eyes on him and won't let him go without a fight. He brings it up one day, catching Steve off guard and making him close off. He apologizes, and changes the topic, not wanting to make the omega uncomfortable. He can't help but to notice that Steve is very jittery and anxious though, always taking notice of his surroundings and who's entering the store. It makes Eddie uneasy, so he posts some men nearby to keep watch. If the shop just happens to be on the way back to his apartment through the new, longer route he's begun taking to keep an eye on him, that's nobody's business. Their rapport builds back up, the two joking and sharing bits and pieces about their lives, but Steve never shares the truth about his situation. Eddie's on his way home one day when he sees smoke billowing from the shop, his beloved omega nowhere in sight on the sidewalk. Eddie leaps from his car and barges into the building, smoke thick and murky. He runs through, calling Steve's name until he reaches the backroom where he sees the omega's prone form lying unconscious on the floor. He scoops him up and takes him outside just as emergency services arrive, and an ambulance quickly takes them to the hospital, where Eddie gets him a private room. The omega is thankfully unharmed beyond some mild smoke inhalation, and the pup is safe too. Eddie is beside himself with fear and anger that someone would dare harm his omega and their pup, but he has no choice but to anxiously wait for Steve to wake up. When he does, he's shocked to see Eddie, who fills him in on what he knows. He gently reminds Steve that he can protect him, he just needs to know what happened. Steve breaks down, telling him that the alpha he thought was going to be his mate was actually just using him for access to Wayne (the old mob boss who stepped down when Eddie took over) and never wanted him or their pup. He didn't want Steve to be with anyone else though, so when he thought that the two were getting too close, he attacked, making the fire look like an accident. Long story short, Eddie gets his revenge and Steve ends up with a loving mate and father to their pup, one who dotes on them both generously. He also doesn't need to be persuaded to give Steve the whole litter he wants, more than happy to keep trying

something in me loves the idea of eddie stepping up to raise a pup that he didn’t sire because he loves steve so much🥲

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training X (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

“Alright. Time’s up, pretty girl.”

You pouted a bit as Peter’s words reached you, signaling to you that you’d been outside long enough and that you’d have to help get breakfast ready soon. You longingly stared at the pond as you stood up, hating how little free time you were allowed. Unlike you, the other women didn’t need someone standing over their shoulder whenever they stepped a foot outside. Clearly Steve or Peter thought there was still a chance you might try and make a run for it.

That opportunity had long passed.

You straightened, brushing some dirt off of your dress before making your way to Peter. The dark-haired man took your hand with a smile, leaning in and brushing his lips over your cheek as he walked you back to the house. Peter did that a lot more as of late. Taking your hand, kissing your face, just touching you in any small harmless way. You didn’t know how to feel about it at first, seeing it more as the price you had to pay to keep Peter so close.

…but just like his presence became a comfort, so did the feel of his hand in yours.

Steve was standing at the back door as you both neared the house, and you held Peter’s hand tighter. You relaxed only slightly when Peter squeezed your hand, and you did your best to avoid Steve’s gaze. Sometimes you wished that you were capable of what Steve clearly thought you were. At least then all of his scrutiny wouldn’t be in vain.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what he expected from you. You were weak. He’d said so himself that day in the basement when he’d decided you couldn’t even last another day. You were nothing like Natasha or even Margaret, something that was a great source of discomfort for you.

“Why do you think you need to be more like Nat?” Peter had asked you one day when you brought it up.

You’d shrugged.

“I just feel…really…pathetic, sometimes,” you’d mumbled, playing with your fingers and avoiding his gaze.

Peter had taken your face into his hands, looking almost sad as you voiced your insecurity. You both knew why you wished you were more like the beautiful redhead, but Peter didn’t say anything about that. He’d simply pressed his lips to your forehead, keeping them there as he talked.

“You’re you, and that’s why I like you,” he’d whispered against your skin. “If I had wanted anyone else…  If I’d wanted someone more like Nat, I would’ve swiped her before Bucky had the chance to.”

That was when you learned that like Jane and Thor, Bucky and Natasha had known each other before this too. Such a thought hurt your heart, and you couldn’t imagine the betrayal she’d felt. Peter had mentioned something about them knowing Natasha since she was a kid, her having grown up in this town too. That level of betrayal had clearly made her heart harden against Bucky in the beginning instead of having some softness for him, leading to her being down in that basement for literal months.

It also explained why Bucky had seemed very upset when he mentioned it.

Natasha was still quiet around you these days, but you couldn’t help but notice that ever since she’d learned the truth about how you were taken, she wasn’t so…harsh. Before, where you could tell that she was that way for your own sake, just wanting you to fall in line for your benefit, now, you could see the patience and understanding in her eyes. They all seemed much more careful around sharp objects, now, having clarity on that incident in the kitchen with the blood.

You didn’t know how to feel about that either.

On the one hand, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s not like you talked about it, but it felt good to be surrounded by people who not only knew what you’d been through, but who also cared. The silent support did make things a little easier. On the other hand, though, you didn’t think that you liked being pitied. You weren’t the only victim in this scenario, and you felt wrong being treated like the only one.

What about Jane who’d liked Thor before he kidnapped her? Or Natasha who’d grown up in this town, who’d grown up with Bucky and the rest, and was betrayed by a man she thought was her friend? Several men that she thought were her friends. To you, their situations seemed just as traumatic.

Even Margaret, whose origin with Steve you didn’t know, still had to live in a perpetual state of fear of being brutally raped by that man for all to see over the smallest of infractions. You helped Laura in the garden as the other woman walked around the property with her daughter. She cooed at her and looked as happy as could be, but you often wondered how much of it was fake for the sake of survival or how much of it was real as a conditioned way of coping? There were many times you leaned towards the latter…

…and there were many times you worried that would be you.

As if you’d conjured him up with your thoughts, you felt familiar hands on your shoulders just as Laura glanced up.

“Hello, Peter.”

The almost robotic way in which they’d all greet Peter anytime he joined you in some household task was almost frightening. Peter allowed you to be so casual with him, and you were reminded of that day he’d snapped at Jane in the greenhouse. It was a reminder that these women probably knew Peter much better than you did. Some of them had lived in this house with him for years, and they knew a whole other side of Peter that you didn’t.

“Laura,” he evenly greeted. “What are you and Y/N planting?”

“Just squash seeds,” she replied. “A personal request from Sam.”

She chuckled as she recalled when Sam had run into you both earlier. He’d seemed very enthusiastic about growing the vegetable, and Peter hummed at that. You felt him rest his chin on your head as you knelt, and if Laura was uncomfortable with his presence, she didn’t show it. You’d kind of gathered that it wasn’t normal for any of the men to be so involved with activities that had been dubbed as something solely for the women in the house.

Peter was just very lenient and accommodating with you.

You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Steve didn’t like it very much. If the blond had it his way, you would’ve been in the basement several times over by now, and any whiny request you made of Peter would’ve been answered with a spanking. That train of thought had a spark of gratitude flowing through you, and absentmindedly, you reached up to cover Peter’s hand on your shoulder with your own.

Laura glanced over at the action, but otherwise said nothing.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

Those were the words you woke up to a few days later, eyes blinking open and face twisting in confusion as Peter’s face materialized before you. He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the bed at your side and the other resting on your stomach, playing with your fingers there. You stared at him in silence for an embarrassingly long amount of time. You heard what he said, but you couldn’t quite make sense of the words.

It was your birthday?

You paused to think back on how many months had passed, and with shock, you realized that Peter was right. It was certainly your birthday month, and while you didn’t keep up with the days as well as you would have liked—they all blended together now—Peter had no reason to lie. In fact, you were sure that Pepper had mentioned the date the other day, and you hadn’t even made the connection that your birthday was fast approaching.

The thought made you…sad.

This time last year, you’d been planning that trip with Wanda and MJ and Pietro. You’d been excited to look back on the memories on your next birthday, probably even planning another one. This time last year, you’d been free and cutting a cake that your mom had baked and cleaning up a mess after Pietro had smashed your face into the icing.

Now…

Now, you were in a prison. Your friends were dead, your mom was alone and probably stressing herself into an early grave over you, and you were staring into the face of the man who’d made it all happen. You were celebrating your birthday in a house that you didn’t want to be in and surrounded by people you didn’t want to be near. The thought made your eyes water, and Peter noticed, his face falling as he straightened.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” he quietly wondered, touching your chin. “Why are you crying?”

You tried to hold them back, but your tears spilled over against your will, and your lips trembled.

“I shouldn’t be here…”

Realization hit Peter as he sighed.

“I’m supposed to be with my friends,” you tearfully told him. “…and my mom.”

“I know,” Peter breathed, moving closer and pulling you into his arms.

You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hold in your sobs, but it was no use.

“…but I’m here…and you don’t have to lift a finger today…”

Peter’s voice was soft, hopeful, as he tried to cheer you up.

“We can stay outside as much as you want,” he told you, stroking your back. “…or we can stay in here all day. Anything you want.”

You knew that ‘anything’ had limitations to it, but you still pulled away at the mention of being outside all day. Ever since you could, it was all you really wanted to do. Peter’s smile told you that he could see it in your eyes, and he reached up to wipe your face.

“The girls are going to cook your favorite,” he continued, gently cleaning your face. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

It did…and it didn’t, but you nodded anyway.

You were having the hardest time accepting that it was actually your birthday. Even as Peter ran you a bath, something that wasn’t unusual, you still stared at the flower petals in the water in disbelief. When you made it downstairs only to be greeted with well wishes and birthday congratulations, it still didn’t feel real.

Each of the women—and Thor—hugged you, while the rest of the men only cheerfully wished you a happy birthday. It was jarring to see a smile on Steve’s face, and even now, you couldn’t tell if it had been genuine or forced.

You were one year older…and so very far from wiser.

Peter was content to lie in the grass with you by the pond. It was all you really wanted to do, just bask in the fresh air and savor this day before you had to return to household chores and allotted outside time. You could feel Peter playing with your hair and your dress as you laid there, staring at the sky and thinking on how drastically your life had changed in a year.

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked you. “When you’re not crying or asking me to hold you, you’re so quiet…and I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

You blinked, frowning a bit.

“Just how different things were last year,” you whispered. “I feel like…it’s finally hitting me…that I’m going to be here the rest of my life.”

You didn’t sound or feel particularly sad as you said it. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you felt, but you knew that it felt strange. You were lying on the grass with your captor, talking to him like he was a friend while he played with you. The man responsible for your captivity was the same one you confided in. That was something you grappled with every day, and with each day that passed, that fact felt less and less weird.

“I told you…it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Peter whispered back, his hand on your face. “I’m going to make you so happy.”

You didn’t want Peter to make you happy…but the only other alternative was to live out the rest of your days miserable and angry and scared. You felt like you were being so ungrateful to think like that, noting just how much worse you could have it. Compared to any of the other men, Peter was a Godsend, but he was still the same man responsible for your kidnapping.

You turned to watch him as he sat up, and you watched him reach into his pocket.

“When I went to check on your mom all those months ago…I also got this…”

You didn’t sit up, just watching him as he held a small jewelry box in his hands. The sight of it made your heart jump for multiple reasons, and you didn’t really know what to do as he opened it. As expected, a ring was inside, but it strangely didn’t look like a typical engagement ring. You figured that one would come into play eventually, and you hated how casually that thought passed through your mind.

It was more of a band, yellow gold and dainty. It reminded you of a tree branch—or vine—twisting and curving into a shape. There were golden thorns that caught your eye, reminiscent of a rose bush, and you felt frozen as Peter took your hand. He was careful in sliding it onto your finger, and you soon understood why.

When Peter pulled on it, the thorns dug into your skin, and you hurriedly sat up with a hiss.

“I had this custom made,” he murmured, turning your hand over and admiring the painful piece of jewelry. “You can’t take this off without scratching up your finger and possibly leaving behind a bloody mess.”

He gently played with your fingers, admiring it some more before his dark eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Peter’s expression was entirely serious as he threaded his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it, his pink lips soft on your skin.

“You’re mine,” he whispered without breaking his gaze. “…and I want you to be reminded of that every single day.”

He rested his chin on the back of your hand.

“Just like I am every time I look at you…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you took a deep breath.

“You understand…?”

You struggled to swallow, hesitating when he squeezed your finger, pressing the metal thorns into your skin, and you winced.

“Yes,” you told him, breathless. “I understand.”

Peter’s entire demeanor changed at that, a smile dancing along his lips as he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Good,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, now. “Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

You sat at the table as everyone around you sang.

The cake that Jane and Sharon baked was so pretty. Beautiful even. It looked like something you would’ve seen online and begged your mom to buy before she ultimately decided to just make it herself. It had the appropriate number of candles, and you stared into the flames as the song came to an end.

You felt Peter’s lips at your ear as he urged you to make a wish.

You blinked, eyes burning as you thought about the one wish you knew wouldn’t come true. The ring on your finger felt like a weight was tied to it, a reminder of just who you belonged to and the circumstances surrounding how you’d gotten here. You stared into the candle flames with tearful eyes, wondering what on earth you could possibly wish for.

Freedom was out of the question. There was no doubt in your mind that that would never happen. You considered wishing for happiness, but like earlier, you thought that you didn’t want to be happy with Peter. At least, you didn’t think you did, but living out the rest of your life in misery sounded like hell, like the worst thing that could ever happen.

…and yet, with tears in your eyes, that was what you wished for.

The other women clapped, cheering for you, but you could hear it dying down when your tears spilled over. You didn’t mean to start crying, and like every other time before, embarrassment filled you. You could feel Peter’s hands on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and when you glanced up, your eyes caught familiar green ones. You didn’t miss the concern on Natasha’s face as she eyed you.

You really did try to keep it together, even just for your own sake, but it was harder than it was supposed to be, and when everyone else grew quiet, you didn’t even need to look over to know that Steve’s hard gaze was on you. You wiped your face, but the tears just kept coming, and you heard Peter sigh.

“Here,” you heard Margaret say, her chair moving. “Let’s cut you a piece of-.”

“Sit down, Peggy.”

Steve’s cold voice was loud and clear in the otherwise quiet room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. It was your birthday, and it was nothing at all like you expected it to be. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever predicted your birthday—any of your birthdays—being spent surrounded by a household that you were taken and forced into.

When you finally glanced over, you were unsurprised to meet Steve’s cold blue gaze.

“Jane and Sharon spent so much time on your cake…”

You looked down at that, and you felt Peter’s hands tighten on your shoulders.

“You rested the entire day, as you should because it’s your birthday…and you’re crying…?”

“Steve-.”

“You let her get away with too much, Peter!”

You jumped as Steve raised his voice, and you hesitantly looked up as the blond stood. His handsome face was taut, jaw ticking as he looked between you and Peter with anger.

“Tantrums, crying fits, holding her hand with every single chore,” Steve continued. “After everything you—and I by extension—have allowed her to get away with…and she’s still ungrateful…”

Your eyes met Steve’s then, lips trembling as he turned his venomous gaze onto you.

“You still have the audacity to cry like a spoiled brat and for what? Because your birthday isn’t at all what you expected it to be, what…a year ago?”

More tears spilled over at that, and your eyes widened as Steve strode towards you.

“You’re never seeing your friends again, you’re never seeing your family again…”

“Steve,” Margaret murmured.

“It’s high time you accepted that and stopped crying like an overindulgent child.”

With every word that left Steve’s lips, you could only manage to cry harder, and you could hear Peter saying something to him, but it was impossible to make out over the sound of your sobs.

“No, she could have it a lot worse,” you managed to catch. “You’re too lenient, too accommodating, and for what? She’s not in charge, you are.”

You could feel Peter helping you stand, and you stumbled as he pulled you against him.

“If she belonged to me…you know exactly what I’d do to straighten her out...”

The thinly veiled threat had you shuddering, more tears falling as you recalled the memory of Steve and Margaret in the yard that morning. You clung to Peter at Steve’s words, and the brunette held you close.

“Maybe you should remind her of just how bad things could be.”

Steve’s parting words still echoed in your mind when Peter brought you back to your room. He was quick to shut the door behind you both, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop crying. Steve’s harsh words combined with the surrealness of your birthday being celebrated in captivity was sending you into a downward spiral.

The worst of it all was that Steve was right. Jane and Sharon had spent so much time on that cake, and it showed. Peter did let you get away with a lot, especially in comparison to the other men, and it could be so much worse for you, but that still didn’t make your situation better.

Nothing about any of this was good.

You could both hear and feel Peter trying to calm you, but it was of no use. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arms and back, soothing sounds leaving his lips, and the sound of his voice made you flinch for some reason. Pulling away from him, you reached for the ring, hissing when it only served to dig into your skin.

“Y/N, stop- what are you doing?”

Peter’s hands were on yours, stopping you, and you only cried harder.

“Get it off,” you shrieked. “Take it off, take it off!”

“No,” Peter spat back. “You’re mine and-.”

“I don’t want to be yours,” you screamed, descending into a fit of sobs. “I want to go home, and I want my friends, and I want my mom.”

You pressed your hands into your face, stumbling away from Peter.

“I want my mom,” you cried.

The other man was quiet as you sobbed, chest heaving and aching. You scooted back towards the headboard, wiping your face as Peter stared at you with an expression that was unreadable. You couldn’t stop shaking and crying, and you bit your lip when Peter stood. His dark eyes drank you in, glinting with something unknown to you, and you watched him take a deep breath.

“You don’t want to be mine��?” he slowly asked.

You pressed your lips together, looking away.

“You don’t have a choice, pretty girl.”

Unlike all the other times, the term of endearment wasn’t dripping with sweetness. There was an edge in Peter’s voice, and you sniffed as he reached for your hand. He squeezed the ring, making you wince, and Peter softly chuckled to himself.

“Steve was right, you know… Things could be so much worse for you.”

“I know,” you tearfully replied, trying to get your hand free.

“I could take you like some animal for the whole house to see like Steve…” you blinked back tears. “…or maybe I should be like Tony and make you wear a leash when I decide to punish you.”

“Peter-.”

“I’ve been nothing but sweet to you…haven’t I…?”

He looked between your eyes, and you reluctantly nodded.

“…and yet you don’t want to be mine.”

He was still holding your hand, and his free hand came up to rest on the back of your neck. Peter was leaning in, nose brushing yours as he studied your face. He suddenly sighed, his expression falling.

“This was supposed to be a happy day for you,” he murmured, frown deepening. “It’s your birthday…and I spent it with you, they made you a cake… You were supposed to be happy, today.”

You didn’t know how to tell Peter that nothing about this day could be happy. If anything, it was sadder than any other day you’d spent here. It was your birthday…and you were so far removed from the people you loved.

“…maybe it still can be…”

You didn’t really understand Peter’s words until his lips brushed over yours. It took you by surprise, and you jerked, but Peter didn’t seem to mind as he kept kissing you. His hand on the back of your neck kept you from moving anywhere, and when he deepened the kiss, you gasped. Peter took that opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth, and your free hand pushed at his chest.

“It’s your birthday…you shouldn’t go to bed angry on your birthday,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed along your jaw.

“Peter-.”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when you found yourself on your back, Peter’s frame covering your own. The dresses and nightgowns you were made to wear were thin, and you felt every bit of Peter as he pressed himself against you. It wasn’t quite registering what was happening, and you felt almost removed from your body as Peter’s hands ran up and down your frame, lips lingering on your neck and jaw and lips. It was only when he started to push your nightgown up did the tears finally collect in your eyes.

“Peter…Peter, wait… Please,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against him.

He ignored you, fighting against you to get your nightgown off, and your panic only grew as he struggled to undress himself too. One of his hands tangled at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back and baring your throat to him. He grazed his teeth over it, and you shuddered.

“You may not want to be mine…but you are,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear.

His bare chest brushed against your own, and he quietly kept telling you that it was okay as you cried.

“…and accepting that will make things so much easier for you…will make you so much happier.”

You shrieked, nails pressing into his arm and the other hand twisting into the sheets. He was pushing into you, slow and torturous, and it took your breath away, making your chest burn. When Peter was fully settled, fully sheathed into you, filling and warm and throbbing, he took a slow deep breath, like he was savoring the moment and feel of you.

He had you completely pinned beneath him, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sobs.

“Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

[imtryingbuck]

Affair Part 2

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Fem!Reader x ??

Summary: The aftermath of reader telling Bucky she’s divorcing him

Word count: 3157

Warnings: Bucky is a big huge gigantic humongous dumdum. Swearing, if there’s more let me know.

Translation: милая девушка - beautiful girl. ангел - angel.

Masterlist

Part 1

“I filed for divorce” kept playing on his mind for the rest of the night long after she had gone to bed. His phone kept going off nonstop, the messages and missed calls all from Sharon.

He stayed at the home he shared with his wife and children for four hours waiting, hoping his beautiful wife who he betrayed would come back down the stairs and tell him she forgave him.

It never happened.

He left, getting into the car his wife brought him, the same car he fucked his mistress in and went straight to Sharon’s. Knocking on the door he only had to wait for a few minutes before the wooden door came swinging open.

“You finally showed, I’ve been waiting for ages! We need to talk” Sharon stands there, red eyed as if she had been crying.

“She’s divorcing me” Walking past her and looking around the room he’d been in so many time before - double date nights, just seeing his best friend, cheating on his wife with his best friend’s wife.

“He’s divorcing me too” Her voice was happier than his. “Now we can be together, I had to cry in front of Steve pretending I cared. Then you wouldn’t pick up your phone I wa-”

“I don’t want you Sharon. I want Y/n. I want my children and my best friend back. Me and you biggest mistake I have ever made!” Cutting her off.

“You’re joking right? We are so perfect together not me and Steve and especially not you and that bitch!”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare call my wife a bitch” he seethes.

“Don’t act like you care now Bucky where was that caring nature of yours when you was sleeping with me for 8 months? And news flash she’s divorcing you she’s not going to get back with you!”

Having her remind him of the stone cold truth hit him in the gut. Sharon was right, his wife was divorcing him. She was never going to get back together with him.

“I don’t care if she’s divorcing me just don’t call her a bitch.”

“Okay, how about we don’t talk about them two okay? Here’s what I was thinking, I’m getting the house in the divorce so I’ll just sell it and me and you can get an apartment together? We can buy all new furniture and it can be a fresh start for us and oh I’ve already found -“.

As Sharon stands there rambling on he had the urge to ring his wife and tell her she was wrong. Sharon did want him now that they were divorcing, she’s even planned to sell her house so they can get an apartment together. Y/n was wrong about that Sharon and himself couldn’t run off into the sunset and live happily ever after because he stood there with his mistress in front of him and having to hear her rambling off about their new future together.

His wife who he loves more than anything in this world was wrong.

Because it wasn’t Sharon that didn’t want him now their affair was known to their spouses. It was him. He was the one that didn’t want her, he didn’t want the apartment with Sharon, he didn’t want a fresh start with his best friends soon to be ex-wife. No, he wanted his wife back. He wanted a fresh start with Y/n so he can get a second chance of being better. He wanted the love of his life back, and he wanted Steve back - he knew himself that Steve wouldn’t forgive him for his part of her affair.

“-Bucky? Bucky are you even listening to me?” Sharon’s voice cut his inner monologue off.

“Huh? Oh yeah sorry”

“You wasn’t listening was you? It’s okay silly bum I was just talking about an apartment I found the other day, oh Buck it’s beautiful and I honestly think it would be perfect for us” Her voice was hopeful and excited. He found himself comparing her voice to the one belonging to his wife when she found the house that became their home.

“Sharon this isn’t going to work”

“Of course it will, I love you and you love me”

“No Sharon I don’t. I don’t love you, I will always love Y/n”

“No! No you don’t James! You love me!” Sharon screamed at him.

Sighing “Listen Sharon I don’t love you, I never had. I have never been attracted to you-“

“Never been attracted to me? You’re joking right?”

“No”

“You prick!”

“We wouldn’t work anyway Sharon. You cheated on Steve with me and I cheated on Y/n with you. We would always accuse each other, we wouldn’t be happy I can promise you that”

“N-no you wouldn’t cheat on me though!”

“I cheated on my WIFE! You really think I wouldn’t do it to you? I love her for Christ sake, she’s the only person I have ever been attracted to! When I was fucking you I was thinking of her! C’mon Sharon don’t be so stupid, it doesn’t suit you” He’s only now regretting coming over here, at the time he didn’t know where else he could go.

“Yo-you ruined my marriage James” he watched her struggle to breathe for a moment “you ruined my marriage!”

“No I didn’t, you did. You are the one that made a vow to Steve not me. Like how I ruined my marriage with Y/n not you.”

“You-we made love James”

“We fucked. We didn’t make love Sharon” rolling his eyes at her petty attempt at making him change his mind.

“I-don’t-you don’t want me now? But you did earlier? You fucked me in your car, went home and get confronted by your wife, then you come here and tell me you don’t want me anymore? Is that what you’re trying to tell me right now?” Her anger and tears were on full display.

“I’m sorry. I am. It’s just I love Y/n more than anything. I’m going to go; I’ll see you around I guess” he was just about to touch the door handle when her voice stopped him.

“Fuck me one last time. Please James”.

And ever the fool, he did.

~~~

The months after she told him she had filed for divorce she flourished, no more crying herself to sleep, no more fake smiles and no more faking confidence. She was the happiest she had been since she caught her husband fucking a woman that was most definitely not her. Her and Steve’s friendship grew too, they became closer than ever. They were each other’s shoulder to cry on, they supported one another when they needed it.

But then came their divorce to being finalised, and that’s where Y/n struggled.

Nat had forced convinced her to go and see a therapist, Dr Grey was a lovely woman who didn’t care about telling her to stop putting herself down, happily called her stupid when she blamed herself for the affair. Dr Grey - Linda as she told Y/n to call her - became a good friend, a friend she needed and wanted.

In the aftermath of her divorce she became isolated, she didn’t want to see or hear anyone that wasn’t her children. Sam being the best friend that he is, would pick up the kids and take them to school and drop them back off. Nat would go to the shops and sometimes even cook them dinner. She felt like she was causing problems for Nat and Sam because they were spending so much time running around after her that they couldn’t spend any time together.

“Don’t be stupid Y/n. You know me and Sam love you, we are more than happy to help” Nat spoke one night when they were lying in bed together.

“I feel like I’m causing problems and I don’t want you two to argue becau-“

“Y/n stop! You’re not causing problems and we are not arguing, like at all. You know Sam loves them kids of yours, he actually loves taking them to school because and I quote ‘they make me feel cool’” both women chuckle at the red heads husband “so stop милая девушка, we are both here for you, I promise”

She cried herself to sleep most nights, cried for the loss of her marriage - for weeks she would find herself going to play with the ring that use to sit on her fourth finger only for her to look down and only see a fading white tan line. Signing her maiden name not married one took months to engrain as she was just so use to writing Barnes after her name. She would find herself reaching out to the other side of the brand new double sized bed searching for his warmth, always finding it empty, always leaving her feeling alone and cold.

She cried the loss of her friendship with Sharon. They had been friends for nearly three years prior to Sharon introducing her and Bucky to each other. She was the first person Y/n would phone whenever something good and bad happened, she was actually the first person to know Y/n was pregnant with her oldest child - hell it was Sharon that told her she was pregnant as she couldn’t bring herself to look at it. Y/n was always there for Sharon night or day she was there. The pain of her betrayal was almost more unbearable than Bucky’s.

Her mental and physical health took a toll too. Constantly blaming herself for not being enough for him, blaming herself for being tired sometimes to not have sex with him. Blaming herself was so much easier and safer for her than to blame the two people who hurt her. Her weight loss was concerning to Nat and Sam, although she would find herself hungry she just couldn’t stomach anything. Nat cleaned the house whilst Sam took the kids to the park as Y/n had a shower for the first time in nearly a month, she felt like she could conquer the world all because she showered, washed her hair and shaved.

Then she accepted the divorce. She accepted that she was no longer someone’s wife, she even (more dramatically) accepted that she’d be single for the rest of her life. With the help from Linda she accepted that Bucky’s affair was not her fault.

~~~

It had now been two years since they were officially divorced.

Y/n made a friend at work, Peggy. Beautiful, kind and the sweetest person. She had set her up with Steve to help him get himself back out there, they’d been dating for nearly a year. Y/n couldn’t believe how much happier he looked now, she was happy for him truly she was. She believed he deserved it.

Dating for her was, well….

“You’re absolutely glowing ангел” Nat whistled as Y/n walked into the kitchen.

“Stop flirting with me”

“I can’t help it милая девушка”

“Sam come and get your wife!”

“What’s going on?” Sam asks coming to where the women were, placing a kiss on Y/n’s temple then giving Nat a quick kiss.

“Your wife keeps flirting with me”

Wiggling his eyebrows “well things can be arranged”

“Samuel!” Both women scold him but shortly after burst out laughing.

“No but I was telling her that she was glowing” Nat informed.

“You are, you seem happier as well” Sam agreed.

“Well… ikindofmetsomeone”

“What!” Both Sam and Nat shout in unison.

“I met someone..”

“Who?” When? Where? How?” Y/n rolled her eyes at the pair talking in tandem.

“His name is Ari. I literally bumped into after I ran out of the cafe after setting Steve and Peggy up on their date”.

“Is he good to you?”

“Yeah, and he’s great with the kids”

“Wait…he’s met the kids?”

“Yeah it was an accident, James said he couldn’t take the kids because of work and Ari came to pick me up for our date but ended up staying at mine. The kids love him”.

“I can’t wait to meet him!” Nat smiles.

~~~

Bucky hadn’t seen Sharon after he left the next morning, he felt ashamed and guilty for sleeping with her. For some bizarre reason he thought it would be a great idea to go to Nat and Sam’s to talk to Steve.

“Absolutely not. You’re not coming in Buck”

“Please Sam I know he’s here, I jus- I just need to talk to him”

“About what? Jesus Bucky you were having an affair with his wife!”

“I know I just need to apologise” He heard movement behind Sam, when he saw Steve’s pained expression his heart sank.

“I don’t want to hear any apologies. But you will listen to me.” Steve gives Sam a small nod, stepped further out of the doorway. “I have known you since we were kids and not once have I ever not trusted you. Not once have an ever wanted to punch you as much as right now. But.. but I’m not going to, it’s not worth it. You betrayed me man! You knew how much I loved her! And there’s Y/n, you had this perfect woman and you cheated on her!” Slightly shaking his head “you-you had the perfect family and you fucked it up by fucking my wife! I was always jealous of you, did you know that? Sharon never wanted kids so when you told me Y/n was pregnant I was jealous. You two had this perfect relationship whilst me and her were arguing all the time, I was jealous” swallowing hard and taking a deep breath “but you see James as much as I wanted the life you had I would of never and I mean never of done what you have done!”

Bucky stands there with tears rolling down his cheeks, wanting to say something but the words just wouldn’t come out.

“You know when Y/n told me about the affair she couldn’t stop apologising, couldn’t stop crying, she even puked up. I had to calm your wife down trying to reassure her that what you did wasn’t her fault! And where were you huh? Screwing my wife!” Chuckling lightly to himself. “Me and Y/n deserve so much better than you two. I really hope it was worth it James because I can’t forgive you. And the fact you have the audacity to come here after spending the night with Sharon just proves how little you care” when he sees Bucky’s eyebrow twitch in confusion he laughs “I really can’t see Y/n giving you a hickey after she’s told your sorry ass she’s divorcing you. Goodbye James it was nice knowing you”.

Y/n was right, he was alone. He had no one in his corner. Going through the divorce process was difficult for him, like she said she wasn’t going to take anything from him. Custody had been split between them evenly as agreed. The part he was struggling with was, only being able to see her at the weekends, their conversations was just about the kids nothing more nothing less.

Then Sam started to do drop offs and pick up leaving him completely crushed. He no longer got to see her even if it was for 10 or if he was really lucky 15 minutes. The friendship he had with Sam and Nat became strained, he didn’t blame them. He did miss them though.

To deal with the loss of his marriage he turned to drinking. Sometimes he would come home from the bar and call out for Y/n, cry when he got no response, 9 out of 10 times he’d fall over and then fall asleep on the floor.

Then that dreaded day came.

Sam had long gone after dropping the kids off, he was in the middle of cooking dinner with his oldest talking about school when he heard a name he hasn’t heard before.

“Sweetheart what was that?”

“Me and Tommy and Billy are now best friends they’re new to school”

“I’m glad but not that bit baby, you said someone helped you with your homework?”

“Oh Ari, he helps me he’s so clever daddy”

“Who’s Ari?”

“Mommy’s new friend. We saw them kissing” giggling when her younger brother pulls a disgusting face.

Of course he knew that it would happen, her dating. Of course she would, she had every right to find happiness and love after he destroyed that for her. Any man would be lucky enough to be with her - she’s funny, beautiful, loving, kind and passionate, the list goes on - he should know, he was once that lucky man before he fucked it all up.

The knowledge of his now ex-wife is dating again broke something inside of him. What? He doesn’t quite know, he shouldn’t have felt anything other than happiness for her.

~~~

It was their son’s birthday party today, the squeals of close to 30 children running around the backyard full of sugar could be heard from down the street, most of their little faces decorated with face paint.

The birthday boy was currently bouncing around on the dinosaur themed bouncy castle - that he just had to have - after laying on the grass for 10 minutes complaining he was ill. Their oldest daughter was walking around showing the adults her butterfly wings that went with the butterfly paint on her face.

Y/n was rushing around making sure everything was okay and running smoothly as well and making sure everyone was having a good time. Bucky thought she looked absolutely breath taking in the white floral dress and white pumps. Her hair was up in two fishtail braids, just like his daughter.

It was the first time in two years that he saw Steve - like Y/n he looked happier, healthier, freer. The woman that was placed snuggly under his arm was beautiful and when Bucky noticed Steve’s hand position when talking to Sam he saw the pregnancy bump, Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his former best friend finally getting his dream of being a dad.

The cheerful scream pulled his eyes away from Steve to his daughter who was running past him heading towards the sliding glass doors. A tall, well-built man stood at the doorway with a huge smile on his face.

“Ari Ari - look mommy Ari’s here”

“I can see that sweetie-“

He started to struggle to breath, his own daughter was more happier to see this Ari guy than him, the smile that lit up Y/n’s beautiful face crushed him. Then it got worse for him. He watched as his former best friend go up to Ari and greeted him in the same way them two use to great each other.

~~~

Going back to the once lively and warm house that he once called home the realisation of how truly alone Bucky was, was a tough pill for him to swallow.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[sidekick-hero]

In Loving Memory

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 4, prompt: Angst with Happy Ending

Tags: Modern AU, rockstar Eddie, plane crash, HAPPY ENDING, minor character death

words: 3.3k | AO3 | mature

“Good afternoon, Mr. Harrington. My name is Elizabeth Quinn, and I’m part of the cabin crew today. Thank you for choosing to fly with us. I hope you're enjoying your flight so far.”

Steve looks up at the owner of the soft voice to his right. It’s a young woman in a stewardess uniform with big brown eyes that instantly remind him of Eddie.

“Oh, hello. Uhm, yes, everything is fine, thank you.”

The stewardess smiles warmly. “I'm glad to hear that, sir. I wanted to discuss a situation we’re currently facing. As you may know, flights can sometimes be overbooked, and today we have a few more passengers than seats available in first class. We’re looking for a volunteer to move to another section of the plane. In exchange, we’re offering a significant compensation package, including a voucher for a future flight, a complimentary upgrade on your next trip, and a gift card for our in-flight shopping.”

She looks apologetic, and he can tell she hates asking him this. It’s not a particularly long flight, and he mostly booked first class because that’s what his father’s secretary always did for him the few times his parents had him fly to wherever they were. So giving up his seat for a four-hour flight doesn’t seem too bad.

“Yes, I can move to another section of the plane. That’s okay,” he tells the stewardess and is rewarded with a bright, genuine smile adorned with dimples. Another thing that reminds him of Eddie. He pushes the ache in his chest down and returns the friendly smile with one of his own.

“Thank you so much for doing this, Mr. Harrington. If you have any specific preferences or questions, please let me know. Your understanding and cooperation greatly help us ensure everyone has a comfortable flight.”

With that, she leads him to another part of the plane, presumably Economy class.

“This one right here, Mr. Harrington. It has extra legroom and is situated next to an emergency exit. I will make sure you have a pleasant flight with us. You can call me with the call button or find me at the front or back of the plane.”

Steve nods with another smile that falls as soon as she walks away to prepare for takeoff. His thoughts wander back to the reason he’s on a flight to LA today.

Eddie.

He still wonders if this is a good idea. When he bought the ticket to LA, he was sure of it. The panic that had constricted his throat had lessened as soon as he pulled up the website of the airline and he felt like he could breathe again for the first time when he got the confirmation mail.

It’s a long shot, he knows that. Surprising Eddie in LA after everything that happened but he hopes it’s a grand enough gesture that maybe Eddie will forget how much Steve has hurt him. Robin suggested to just call Eddie and apologize, explain to him why Steve was so reluctant to take the next step with him.

The truth is, Steve doesn’t think he could handle it when Eddie didn’t pick up the phone or just hangs up on him before he can say his piece. If Eddie decides that it’s too much for him, that Steve’s too much, too damaged, then be it. But he needs to see Eddie one last time, drink in those beloved doe eyes one more time.

Steve thinks about why he and Eddie fought the last time they saw each other. Growing up in a very conservative household, Steve always suspected he might like men as well as women, but he denied any attraction toward men because of what his parents might say. He knew they wouldn’t accept him.

He was 31 when he walked into a bar in Chicago with his best friend Robin and locked eyes with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Eddie was the first man he ever kissed, ever slept with. He couldn’t help himself, not when Eddie flirted with him, wooed him, and made him laugh with his whole body. Steve always assumed what they had was strictly physical, just some fun between two single guys.

But Eddie wanted more than that. He wanted a relationship with Steve.

Eddie had asked Steve to be his date on the red carpet in LA for the Grammy Awards. Eddie was actually nominated with his band, Corroded Coffin, and he wanted to show the world who he loved. But Steve was scared. Everybody would know he was in a relationship with another man. So he declined, and Eddie left Steve’s apartment heartbroken.

Steve can still see the look on Eddie’s face, the hurt in his eyes. It had shattered something inside him, but his fear was stronger. He had watched Eddie walk away, the love of his life slipping through his fingers because he was too afraid to hold on.

Steve’s thoughts are interrupted by the plane's PA system crackling to life, announcing their imminent takeoff. He leans back in his seat, staring out the window as the plane begins to taxi down the runway. The memory of Eddie's face, the pain in his eyes, is as vivid as ever.

He had tried to justify his fear, telling himself it was about protecting Eddie, about not wanting to put him through the scrutiny and judgment that would come from being seen with another man. But deep down, Steve knew it was about protecting himself. He was scared of what his parents would think, what the world would think.

As the plane ascends, Steve closes his eyes, replaying that last conversation with Eddie in his mind.

"Steve, I love you. I want us to be together, really together," Eddie had said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I want you by my side at the Grammys. I want to show the world who I love."

Steve had felt his heart pound in his chest, a mix of fear and longing. "Eddie, I can't. You know how my parents are, how everyone will react. It's not that simple."

Eddie's eyes had filled with tears. "It is that simple, Steve. Either you love me enough to be with me, openly and proudly, or you don’t. I can’t keep hiding us. I can't keep hiding you."

Steve had stood there, silent and conflicted, as Eddie walked out the door. The sound of the door closing behind him had felt like the end of everything.

The plane levels off, and Steve opens his eyes, blinking back tears. He knows this trip to LA is a long shot, but he has to try. He has to make Eddie understand how much he means to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone, opening the notes app. He starts typing, trying to find the right words to say when he sees Eddie.

The flight attendants come by with the beverage cart, and Steve looks up to see Elizabeth smiling at him. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Harrington?”

“Just some water, please,” Steve says, returning her smile.

As she hands him the bottle of water, she says softly, “It looks like you have a lot on your mind, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Steve looks up at her as he accepts the cup of water and finds that he actually wants to talk with someone about what he’s about to do. He needs someone to tell him that it’s going to work out.

“I do. I’m on my way to win back the man I’m in love with.”

There, he said it. He admitted that he was in love with another man and now he’s fighting the urge to hide, scared of her reaction. But he holds her gaze, heart pounding in his chest.

“Oh,” she says, her eyes softening, “that explains the look on your face. I think you’re very brave, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve takes a moment, contemplating how much to share. But he feels a strange sense of comfort in Elizabeth’s kind eyes.

“His name is Eddie,” Steve begins, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met. He’s kind, talented, and makes me laugh like no one else can. But I let my fear ruin everything between us.”

Elizabeth listens intently, her expression encouraging him to continue.

“We fought because he wanted us to go public, to be together openly. He wanted me to go with him to the Grammys, to be his date. But I was too scared of what my parents would think, what people would say. So, I said no. And he left,” Steve explains, his voice cracking.

Elizabeth nods, understanding in her eyes. “That sounds really hard, Steve. But it also sounds like you care a lot about him.”

“I do,” Steve says, his eyes filling with tears. “I love him more than anything. That’s why I’m going to LA. I need to tell him how sorry I am and that I’m ready to be with him, no matter what anyone else thinks.”

Elizabeth places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It takes a lot of courage to admit when you’re wrong and to fight for what you love. Eddie is a very lucky man to be loved so much by you, Steve. I hope he sees that.”

Steve smiles, feeling a bit lighter. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I really hope he does.”

Elizabeth gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving on to the next passenger. Steve watches her go, feeling a much needed sense of hope. He’s made mistakes, let fear dictate his actions, but he’s ready to make things right.

About two hours into the flight, Steve decides to stretch his legs and walks up and down the narrow aisle. He passes families with little kids, an elderly couple working on a crossword puzzle together, and two young women chatting and laughing. It’s fascinating to see so many different lives intersecting in one place.

On his fifth lap, Elizabeth appears next to him, gently touching his arm.

“Steve, could you please take your seat and fasten your seatbelt?”

He looks at her, puzzled. “But the seatbelt signs are still off.”

“That’s true, but from experience, I know the signs could come on any minute. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before the aisle gets too crowded with everyone returning to their seats.”

Steve nods, appreciating the heads-up. “Thanks for letting me know.” He heads back to his seat.

As Steve settles in and fastens his seatbelt, the plane suddenly lurches violently. The cabin shakes with a gut-wrenching turbulence, hurling passengers and their belongings through the air. Panic erupts as screams fill the cabin, and Steve clings to his seat, trying to stay calm amid the chaos.

Elizabeth dashes down the aisle, her face pale and eyes wide. She spots Steve and rushes over, her voice barely audible over the cacophony. “Steve! Call Eddie! Now!”

Heart pounding, Steve scrambles for his phone. His hands tremble uncontrollably as he dials Eddie’s number. The turbulence makes it nearly impossible to hold the phone steady, but he manages to keep a grip.

The call connects, and Eddie’s voice comes through, thick with confusion and worry. “Steve?” He asks and then he must hear the chaos in the background because he immediately adds, “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Eddie,” Steve’s voice cracks as he fights back tears. “I’m so sorry. I should have been braver. I should have been all in. I’m on this plane, and it’s really bad. I wanted to come to LA to talk to you. I wish I could have done all this in person. I wish I could kiss you one last time.”

Eddie’s voice trembles with desperation. “Steve, what’s happening? Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Steve’s eyes dart around the cabin, the plane shaking violently as alarms blare and panicked voices rise. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t want this to be a goodbye, but I think it might be. I needed to tell you how much I regret being so scared, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I love you, Eddie. I should’ve told you when I had the chance.”

The turbulence worsens, and the plane begins a terrifying descent. The noise in the background grows louder and more intense. Eddie’s voice, filled with panic, tries to reach him. “Steve, stay with me! Please!”

But as the plane’s descent becomes more violent, the call goes eerily silent. Steve’s heart pounds in his chest as the only sound now is the relentless, chilling dial tone. Tears stream down his face as he grips the phone tightly.

Elizabeth returns to Steve’s side, her eyes filled with kindness and urgency. She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Hold on, Steve. It’s going to be okay, but I need you to fight. For Eddie, okay?”

Steve nods, trying to steady himself amidst the chaos. He closes his eyes, focusing on Eddie’s voice and the love they shared, holding onto the hope that somehow, somehow, he’ll get another chance.

The last thing he hears is the deafening roar of something massive hitting the ground way too fast.

When Steve opens his eyes, he’s immediately overwhelmed by blinding light and searing pain. He groans, wishing for unconsciousness to take him away again so the agony would stop.

“Steve?”

The sound of Eddie’s voice pulls him from the sweet embrace of nothingness. The panic in Eddie’s voice is palpable, as if he’s on the verge of breaking down.

“’ddie?” Steve mumbles, his mouth feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton and his tongue heavy.

“Yes, I’m here, Stevie. I’m here.” Suddenly, Eddie’s beloved face appears above him, his eyes red-rimmed and watery. “Hi, baby.”

Steve manages a smile, the pain momentarily overshadowed by the sight of Eddie’s face. How he’s missed those eyes.

The thought brings Elizabeth back to his mind, the stewardess with the same eyes. Reality crashes back, and Steve gasps with the sudden realization that he should be dead.

“What… happened?” he croaks, his voice barely audible as his strength begins to wane.

“I promise I’ll explain everything, Stevie, but first we need to get your strength back. I’ll let the nurse know you’re awake.” Eddie reaches for the call button next to Steve but stops to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was terrified of losing you.”

That’s the last thing Steve hears before darkness pulls him under once more.

The next time Steve wakes up, he feels a bit better. The pain is still there, but it’s dulled by the medication, making it manageable. He’s strong enough to talk more than just a few minutes, and he uses that strength to repeat to Eddie what he had said on the phone during the crash.

Eddie is holding Steve’s hand between his, his tear-streaked cheek resting gently on the back of Steve’s hand. His eyes are still red and puffy, but he speaks with a steady voice that is thick with emotion. “Steve, I could never just walk away from you. I knew you weren’t ready, even though it hurt. I planned to talk to you when I got back to Chicago, to tell you that I would wait for you, as long as I wouldn’t lose you. But when you called and I heard all that screaming… Fuck! I can’t even think about it without wanting to throw up. The crash was bad—most of the front was completely destroyed. It’s a miracle you survived.”

Steve blinks, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. “How… How did I survive?”

Eddie’s gaze is intense as he searches Steve’s eyes. “From what they told me, you were supposed to be seated in the front, but you weren’t. No one could explain why. Your seat was right next to the emergency exit, so they got you out quickly. And you had your seatbelt fastened, which probably kept you from being thrown around too much. It’s almost like fate that you survived. Only twenty-three people made it.”

Steve’s eyes widen as he absorbs Eddie’s words. The thought weighs heavily on his chest: If it hadn’t been for Elizabeth’s warning, he might not have been so lucky. He’s sure she’s the reason he’s still here.

A flicker of concern crosses Steve’s face. “Elizabeth… she was a stewardess on the flight. She moved me to this seat, told me that first class was overbooked and asked if I’d be willing to switch. And she also made sure I fastened my seatbelt just before we started going down.”

Eddie’s eyes grow wide with shock. “But… they said on the news that casualties were below a hundred because first class wasn’t as full as usual. They said no one in that section survived.”

Steve’s heart pounds as he starts to realize the gravity of Elizabeth’s actions. “I need to find out if she survived, Eddie. She saved my life, and I need to thank her.”

Eddie’s eyes brighten with resolve. “We can do that, Stevie. I need to thank this woman, who saved the man I love. What’s her name? I’ll get Chrissy on it—she’ll find out in no time.”

Feeling his love for Eddie surge, Steve lets it overflow for the first time without restraint. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

They share a long, tender look, like lovesick teenagers, before Steve remembers Eddie’s question. “Her name is Elizabeth Quinn.”

Eddie’s expression changes abruptly. All color drains from his face.

“What did you say her name is?”

“Elizabeth Quinn. Why, do you know her?”

Ignoring the question, Eddie asks, “What did she look like?”

Steve describes Elizabeth, including her big brown eyes that reminded him of Eddie’s—one reason he bonded with her almost instantly.

As Steve finishes, Eddie looks even paler. Wordlessly, he pulls out his phone, navigates to an article from the airline, and hands it to Steve. The headline reads: “Airline Grieves Loss of Crew Members on Flight 731.” The article features a picture of a stewardess who looks just like Elizabeth. Her name is listed below the photo: Elizabeth Quinn.

Steve’s heart sinks as he reads the name. “That’s her. Elizabeth Quinn.”

Eddie’s voice trembles as he looks at Steve. “Elizabeth Quinn was my mom. She was a stewardess, and she died in a plane crash when I was eight.”

Steve’s eyes widen in shock. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I had no idea.”

Eddie’s eyes are glassy as he looks at Steve. “She was the best person I knew. She loved her job and loved helping people. And now it seems she came back to help two more people: me and you.”

Steve reaches out weakly, placing a hand on Eddie’s. “I wish I could have thanked her in person. But I did tell her about you—how funny, smart, and amazing you are. How much I love you. And I should have known, because you look just like her. The same kind eyes and dimples when you smile.”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand, his voice breaking. “I’m glad you got to meet her. God, this is so crazy. I was so angry for so long that she left me. I know it’s unfair, but that’s how I felt. I miss her so much.”

“She knew you loved her. She made sure you wouldn’t lose another person you love, because she loves you too. Even if she’s no longer here, she’s still watching over you.”

“Over us, you mean. I’m pretty sure this means you’re part of the family now.”

Eddie still asks Chrissy to check the airline's list for Steve’s savior. He’s not surprised when Chrissy reports that there was no Elizabeth Quinn on that flight.

[bleedingoptimism]

Calling Eddie on the phone that first time, when he’d panicked about Tarja’s cold, was like opening a dam. They start talking on the phone all the time. At first, it’s always about Tarja, photos of her drawings, a story about school, questions of whether she forgot her plushie in Steve’s car again or not.

But then it’s just them chatting, asking about their day, showing each other what they are working on, or sharing a meme. Soon, they start wishing each other goodnight and Steve knows he’s stepping into deep water with both feet at the same time but he can’t stop.

He likes Eddie, a lot. He’s in too deep already. He was already halfway in love with him when he realized he liked him as much more than a friend… That he liked him much more than he liked his own boyfriend. That he doesn't even like his boyfriend…

But if Steve was dreading breaking up with Tommy not to lose Tarja… now that he has double the people to lose… There’s no way.  Thinking about not seeing them again makes him feel like he’ll never be able to take a full breath of fresh air again. 

They are hanging out at the park the day Steve completely loses control of the situation. He’d promised Tarja he’d take her there last week and Tarja had begged Eddie to join them so now, they are sitting side by side on a bench watching Tarja build sand castles with another kid in the playground.

The comfortable silence gets interrupted by Steve’s phone going off and, checking his messages, he sighs, already bothered by seeing it’s from Tommy.

‘get your big pretty ass home soon. i have guests tonight’

‘Big? Shit. Is my ass too big?’ He thinks as he frowns at his phone.

“Everything ok?” Eddie asks, looking at him curious.  

“We need to get back, it’s Tommy” is all Steve says, shaking his phone in explanation. He can’t help but pull a face of exasperation trying to make light of the situation but Eddie frowns.

“Steve, about Tommy… If he’s not good to yo-” 

“You sound like Robin” Steve interrupts, he’s talked to Eddie about his best friend before, but he never mentioned Robin is always telling him to break up with Tommy. 

“Well, then I’m not that far off am I?” Eddie presses kindly, ducking his head to try and catch Steve’s eyes.

But Steve keeps them fixed on his shoes. There’s a stain on the tip of his left one. 

Eddie takes his silence as agreement and keeps going, “Why haven’t you broken up with him, then?”

Why does Eddie want him to break up with Tommy? Is he trying to get rid of him? Does he not like him around? No, it’s not that. Eddie is his friend, he’s kind and lovely and has never once been mean or rude to him and Steve needs to stop projecting.

But, he can’t answer that or tell Eddie the truth, he thinks. And then, his eyes betray him, drifting from the floor to Tarja, who is now…being buried in the sand with the help of the other kid. Her little feet kick up as she giggles delighted. He smiles to himself a little. That kid, she’s a menace.

Eddie gasps and Steve realizes his mistake. He looks at him and Eddie is looking back, eyes huge,

“Steve… don’t tell me, it’s-”

Steve shakes his head no frantically, “No, it's not- there’s a lot of reasons! It’s not- Ugh fine, it’s not only because of her but, she’s one of the reasons…” he struggles to say.

And then he shrugs, like ‘What can you do? Hehe’ Because he’s an idiot.

Eddie stares at him for a long time, unblinking and with his mouth half open, “You’d do that for her?” he whispers and it sounds so… raw.

Steve just looks at him, not knowing what to say and trying really hard not to get distracted by Eddie’s beautiful lips.

He suddenly turns to face him properly and takes Steve’s hand with both of his, “Fuck, Steve…” he says and then closes his mouth shut and opens it again. Steve leans a little closer eager to hear whatever Eddie wants to say but then his phone rings and he jumps off his seat, startled.

Looking at the caller ID, he curses, “It’s Tommy”

He picks up the call and starts walking in a big circle, he can never sit still while on the phone,

“Hey,”

“Hey dummy, you didn’t answer. Is everything ok?” Tommy asks like he’s actually worried and not just impatient.

‘Dummy’... it’s supposed to be affectionate but every time Tommy calls him that it feels like he’s sticking a needle in his heart.

“Yeah, we are at the park, we’ll be right there. I’m-” But Tommy hangs up before he can finish the sentence. 

“Asshole,” Steve murmurs to himself and looks back to see Eddie has already collected Tarja and is waiting for him.

Seeing both of them holding hands and smiling up at him makes Steve want to cry and scream at how much he needs them. He’s so fucked.

🧸

A week later, he’s at a dinner with Tommy and Tommy’s coworkers. 

Because Tommy doesn’t have friends, he has coworkers. Because friends are for children.

Or so Tommy says… Fuck Tommy.

He’s bored out of his mind and pushing his food around on his plate. Lost his appetite after Tommy looked at him funny for ordering fries instead of a salad. 

He can’t stop thinking about Eddie, about him asking why he hadn’t broken up with Tommy yet, and about whatever it was that Eddie didn’t say that day.

And then, as if it were fate or something, he gets a message from Eddie, he looks at it under the table when he sees it’s a photo. Not that Eddie would send him a nude or something he just doesn’t want anyone else to see.

However, he might’ve been wrong about the nude because Eddie is shirtless in the photo he sent, Steve notices with burning cheeks.

But the photo is not sensual at all. Instead, it’s the cutest, loveliest thing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s Eddie and Tarja standing in front of the big mirror in Eddie’s hallway with big smiles, identical dimples on their right cheeks. Both their curly hairs are bundled up on top of their heads and they are covered in paint. 

All of Eddie’s tattoos are colored in bright colors, his demon skull, the sword, the dragon, the goat, the vines that adorn his top scars, everything. The colors don’t respect the lines and the paint is dripping a little, clearly Tarja’s work. Meanwhile, she has cute skulls, bats, and roses drawn on her arms, and her freckles are now every color of the rainbow. They are fucking beautiful.

The text below says ‘she forgot toothless at tommy’s. im trying to distract her’

Steve bites his lip to hide a big smile and sends at least a hundred heart eyes emojis and then answers he’ll bring it back later.

“Are we boring you, Steve?” One of Tommy’s coworkers asks. He can hear the venom in her voice.

‘Yes’

“No, not at all. Just answering a text,” he says with a closed-lip smile.

“Oh! Let me guess, from your ‘job’” she laughs, doing air quotes with her claws, and then whines, putting on a voice, “Help me, Steve! I can’t decide what to wear to a party” 

They all laugh, Tommy included and Steve just glares at her unsure if he should rise to the bait or not. 

“Aww, don’t be mad Stevie,” she coos at him, “I’m just messing with ya!” she smirks and then looks at her nails as if she were a disney villain or something, “I wished I’d gone to college for something as simple as fashion. You are very lucky to be so successful,” And they laugh again. Only one of them has the decency of looking uncertain about it and Steve is seething.

Lucky?! He’s worked his ass off to get to- whatever- he takes a deep breath and smiles at her.

God, fuck his people. They are so… miserable.

Making other people feel bad about themselves just because there’s no joy in their own lives. He feels sorry for them.

But Tommy laughing alongside them makes him feel sick to his stomach.

After, when they are going back to his place, Tommy takes one hand off the wheel and puts it on Steve’s thigh slowly going up. Steve briefly considers opening the door and jumping out of the car in motion but ends up just slapping Tommy’s hand off of him aggressively.

Tommy scoffs but he doesn’t say anything and keeps his hands to himself the rest of the way. And when they get home, he confronts Steve, “What’s got your panties in a bunch now, uh? Steve, we haven’t fucked in weeks!”

Steve swirls around and laughs, “Are you shitting me right now?! You want me to let you touch me!? After how you just laughed at the way Carol talked to me?” he says.

“Uhg, not this again! Did you get your feelings hurt again, princess?” Tommy mocks him and Steve rolls his eyes so hard he wishes he could do a backflip to accompany them. Hell, he probably could.

He doesn’t even bother answering Tommy, too sick of his shit, and just walks past him on his way to the door.

“Oh c’mon, Stevie! We were just kidding!” Tommy says, changing his tune completely and trying to sound nice. Then doing another 180 when Steve just keeps getting ready to leave, “Why are you so fucking sensitive. Are you seriously leaving right now?!”

Steve doesn't stop, doesn’t even look at him and Tommy follows him to the door, “Good! Fine! Leave! Run back to your Robin. You’ll be back!” he tells him, and Steve hates that he’s said it before and had been right. But when he’s closing the door as Steve is walking towards his car Tommy yells one more thing that completely breaks him, “You are too much work, Steve! You are not worth this much trouble!”

Steve slams the door of his car and drives away but ends up pulling over a few blocks later because he can’t see through the tears.

He whales and heaves, shaking while he rubs his eyes over and over again. All he can hear in his head is ‘you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it.’

Fuck Tommy.

He takes a deep breath trying to calm himself and rests his head against the headrest, rolling it from right to left and massaging his scalp but when he looks to the left, something in his passenger seat makes him gasp. As if it were fate or something… Toothless, Tarja’s plushie is sitting right beside him.

☝️first part

👈previous part

👉 next part

☕🥐💕?

[wandascrush]

Ambushed

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x f!reader, Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Avengers x f!reader

Warnings: Fighting, injuries, punching, choking, ambushes, cursing

Part 3 to my DIWK series

Sick. Every morning you woke up sick. You should be used to it by now, being a double agent and all for a few months, but you never got over that distilled anxiety. Bottled up, saved for the quietness of your room at the end of the day. It settled like a cold, heavy, pit in your stomach. Too heavy to move or swallow, so it just sat with you. 

You remember being in therapy a few years ago, having this pretty blonde stare across at you from the comfy-looking leather couch, tapping her pen against her gray slacks and bouncing knee. “And how does that make you feel?” Her voice was light as if it was a suggestion more than a question. “The same as it always does. There’s no flavor of the month for this thing, it’s the same every. single. day.” You groaned out the last word. 

Therapy never worked for you anyway. 

You couldn’t tell if it was an emotional thing or the fact that you slept with your therapists nearly every time, but it just wasn’t your vibe. 

So now here you were, for one reason or another, gently knocking your head on the wall as you thought about the kiss(es) you shared with Agent Romanoff, and how her lips felt like the best place in the world. And also how stupid it was. How idiotic. Get semi-involved with someone on your team, especially when you’re a double agent. Sort of. More on that later. 

You checked your watch, five minutes till go time, your first huge mission with the team. The stomping of boots in unison was all you focused on as you and the rest of the team boarded the Quinjet, strapping in and resting your head against the cold metal. You breathed out heavily, trying not to focus on the green-eyed witch sitting next to you, jaw clenched and obviously uncomfortable. 

A few hours later the ship bumpily landed in a flower field, shaking everyone’s head a bit too much for comfort. 

“Peter, Y/N, and Wanda- you two will take the North tower and get the hostages out from Cell blocks A-C.” Tony went down the list calling out different groups for the other 4 areas that needed to be covered. “Last but certainly not least, Romanoff and Rogers- you’re blessed with my presence on this mission.” 

“Our fearless leader.” Steve groaned as he got up and walked out of the Quinjet.

Peter, shaggy brown hair, a nervous smile, and a spider suit on- that was the guy who was supposed to help defend you in case of an enemy ambush. And Wanda. Brown layered hair, bite with every word she said to you, and a red leather jacket- your other line of defense. Great. You might as well be fighting with your little brother considering the small age gap between you and Spidey. Truth is, you liked the kid. He had heart, and you felt bad for him too. Everyone treated him like a lost puppy, but you’ve seen him train. Peter’s definitely not as seasoned of a fighter as everyone else, but damn he did not give up. 

Your group was supposed to clear out cell blocks A-C of an abandoned prison, supposedly harboring kidnapped engineers. You kicked the first exit door open, gun in hand and a flashlight being held by Peter right behind. Wanda trailed slightly behind you guys, ensuring no one snuck up from the back. The stairs cracked and groaned with each step, and cold metallic air whipped through the large facility. You crinkled your nose at the smell. Making it up the stairwell safely, you were met with the boring site of rusty old cells…and empty. You looked around, opening up the cells, peering in, and stepping out. Where the hell was everyone? “You guys might want to take a look at this,” Peter called out, sticking to one of the walls and pointing at a sealed door in the corner. Oh. Without being asked Wanda stuck one of her arms out, encompassing the sealed cement door with beautiful scarlet swirls causing it to crack, and shatter. Behind it was a pitch-black hallway.

You looked up at Peter, shrugging, “Ladies first, you’re up kid. Lead the way.” 

He smiled…until he got the joke, “Sure Miss- wait what’s that supposed to mean?” 

Wanda turned away to hide her smirk from you, covering it with a cough. “Don’t mind her, Peter. She thinks it's comedy hour.” 

“Awh you think I’m funny witchy?”

“In your dreams, Y/N.” 

Peter jumped down from his spot, taking a step forward into the hallway and flashing his light around. It seemed to go on forever the longer you three walked, with no turns or hidden rooms. Just a hallway. Huh. 

Meanwhile, Tony, Nat, and Steve were walking the rest of the grounds exploring every nook and cranny. The last cell block, D, was pretty much empty too with light pouring in from the broken windows. 

 “It’s too quiet Tony.”

“Kinda nice right?”

“You completely missed my point on that, but okay. Quiet doesn’t mean empty it means-”

Steve cut in, “Hiding. Look at the door in the corner, it’s completely sealed off.” In an instant, Tony blasted it. 

One thing you’d learn about Peter Parker was that he talked a lot when he was nervous.  

“Did you know that the subways under NYC have been around for hundreds of years?”

Then you all heard it, the click-clack of slow but steady footsteps. You held your hand up, signaling silence and stopping your movements. The steps were out of sync and loud, not just one person but maybe two, or three. 

Your steps got closer, their steps got closer, yours got closer, theirs got closer, yours got closer, theirs got-

“FUCK TONY!”

“FUCK WANDA!”  

You all nearly shot each other to death thanks to your jumpscares. “I thought you were supposed to be in cell block D?” you asked him, quietly trying to stop the hum of your heart against your chest. 

“We were, but this tunnel led us here.”

“Yeah, same with ours.” 

Peter sat on the floor, arms resting on his knees,  “Okay so we all made it here but- where are the hostages?”

“We were gonna ask you guys the same thing,” Tony scoffed. And in an instant, it dawned on all of you. Oh shit. “AMBUSH- GET OUT OF THE HALL!” You all started running towards the entrance your group came out of, everyone following behind you. The floors started rumbling and the overhead of planes could be heard above you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. All of you ran out of the cell block, barely in time an earth shattering boom sounded. All of you were thrown at least 20 feet onto the cement, hitting your head and skidding. Blurriness filled your vision when you tried to get up, stumbling to your feet and falling back down. You looked around and your breathing was ragged, it felt like a fire had been set in your lungs. Everyone was down. Nat- thrown into a wall from the explosion. Out cold. Steve- barely waking up. Tony- banged up and crashed into the ground but slowly got back up. Wanda- right next to you with blood dripping down her forehead. And Peter- shit where’s Peter? 

You heard him yell and when you turned around- there it was. An entire squad from HYDRA, at least 20 of them, marching towards you and the knocked-out Avengers. Peter,  Steve, Tony, and yourself regrouped immediately. And standing there, smiling happily, was Samantha. 

“Y’know, a simple explosion taking out the world's mightiest is really so disappointing. Kind of glad it didn’t work.” The leader of the group spoke first. You swore you saw his face before. 

“I’m gonna guess there’s no hostages?,” Tony stepped forward, raising his arm and opening up the blasters.

”This should be fun.”

In moments, punches, kicks, and blasts were out in every direction. Peter already knocked five senseless, Steve was working on his set, and Tony was-  well, Tony. Lots of blasting.Then came your turn, and taking out the four that had reached you was comfortable enough, aside from a few scrapes and the gentleman who attempted to pistol whip you. The real party came when Samantha stepped up to the plate, cracking her neck and taking her jacket off. “Y/L/N. We made this so easy for you, leave them in the cell block and you get out safely.”

“Yeah well, it would’ve been a lot easier if I had been aware of the fucking plan.”

“God, I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” she threw a right hook that cut you square in the jaw, and immediate pain exploded to your face. You tackled her to the ground, pinning her with your legs on each side of her waist, blow after blow to her face. Her nose was bleeding and she kicked you in the stomach. Samantha flipped you over and started pressing down on your throat, “I wish you had never come to Hydra- never come to take my fucking place.” Her grip tightened and you saw emptiness in her eyes. 

You tried to dig your nails into her hands, desperately grabbing at skin or anything painful enough. “- stop. We’re on the same team,” you whispered, kicking at anything. Fuck- you couldn’t even flip her over with your legs as much as you kicked and squeezed. Your eyes started to go blurry once again and your head was pounding too much for you to think. Then webs attached themselves to either side of her waist, picking her up and slamming her against the farthest wall. Peter quickly jogged over to you, picking you up and letting you catch your breath. 

“We need to keep moving, come on. They’re all gone.”

Everyone climbed inside the Quinjet after Peter webbed up all the HYDRA members, strapping them to the walls like Christmas ornaments. Natasha had woken up and was feeling fine, Wanda had woken up and fallen asleep on your shoulder accidentally. You tried to ignore the Black Widows' fiery gaze at the redhead who was asleep across from her, but the message was clear. Even though Wanda was a Grade-A asshole, some part of you felt bad for her. Maybe that was what compelled you to dampen a tissue with some water and gently clean the blood off of her forehead, or the way you checked her pulse every few hours. 

A whole day later once every Avenger had rested up and healed their sore muscles, you heard a knock on your door. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s Wanda.” You opened the door to find her in a matching hoodie set, cluttered with the words “Screw off.” She dawned a small smile, moving past you and sitting on your bed without a word. Hi there.  You sat next to her, conscientious of the space, and gently cleared your throat, “So, are you feeling better? You got hit pretty hard. ”  

“A whole lot better, thanks to you. It was nice of you to take care of me,” her hand touched yours softly. A gentle smile played on your face. 

“It’s what teammates do.”

Wanda gave you a silent nod. She glanced down at her lap as her expression changed. Apprehensive, she quietly spoke, “But I want you to know that I know. About you, your secret.” With that, she leaned down to your ear to whisper, “Sooner or later, everyone will know,” and left. 

Oh.

[mentally-gone002]

summer swims

summary: the whole gang is at steve pool to evade the heat. 

warnings: a teeny tiny bit of an innuendo

a/n: y’all… i’m on my steve harrington obsession time again (he’s my pookie🤭) so don’t be afraid to send me requests for him!!!! also i mean to not capitalize everything!

———————————————————————

“good afternoon hawkins! i’m your weatherman john kingston, and today is the hottest day of the year, with a high of 101 and a low of 95 degrees. apply that sunscreen and stay safe out there…” 

the weatherman spoke over the radio in cheerful sentences while i laid outside in the sun. my sunglasses were sliding down my nose due to the light sheen of sweat covering my body. 

the kids were down in the pool, laughing, sometimes screaming, and jumping into the pool. i smiled at them. 

“hey gorgeous !” my attention was dragged away from the page when i heard robin address me from the back door. 

i jumped out of my chair when i saw her. “hey beautiful!” i hugged her quickly. “was he nice to you?” i wondered, looking behind her at steve as he put his car keys on the kitchen counter and then ran up the stairs out of my sight. 

“he’s a dingus, as always.” she tells me while rolling her eyes. “how long have they been here?” she nodded at the kids. i looked back at them as lukas and dustin jumped into the pool at the same time, making max and el scream as water splashed them in the face. mike as will sat on the edge of the pool away from the group, chatting together quietly.

“maybe two hours? they just showed up and came out here.” i shrugged with a small chuckle. “i had to literally fight, and i mean fight, all the boys to put on sunscreen.” 

robin laughed. “it’s easier to work with girls isn’t it?” she winked and i playfully hit her with a laugh. 

“are you hitting on my girl?” steve asked robin as he wrapped an arm around my waist. he’d changed into his swimsuit.

robin shook her head with crinkled brows. “that’s classified information, harrington.” she winked at me again and walked into the house. “i’m gonna get into my swimsuit.” she told us over her shoulder. 

steve turned to stand in front of me with his hands on my waist. “hi.” he smiled, leaning down to kiss me. “sorry we were late, the other employees forgot they had to come into their shift.” 

i shook my head. “it’s alright. it’s been fun to watch the kids for once.” my arms went up to rest on his shoulders. “just listen to me when i tell you to wear sunscreen because i’ve already wrestled four of the six little shits. i’m tired.”

steve looked me over, eyeing how my bikini shaped me. “i wouldn’t mind wrestling you.” he grinned cheekily and i smacked his bare chest with a shocked laugh. “what? it’s the truth!” he grinned, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “you look sexy.” 

i moved my head slightly to look at the kids who haven’t even noticed that id moved or that steve and robin are here. “keep talking like that and you won’t get any sleep tonight.” 

steve chuckled lowly. “i’d like that.” he told me. 

“move it, dingus.” robin walked past us onto the patio with the bottle of sunscreen i’d put on the counter in her hand. 

steve glared at her from behind. “give me a second.” he kissed my cheek quickly before jogging up behind robin to pick her up and toss her into the pool. she let out a loud shriek before hitting the water. 

all the kids laughed as they looked over at steve.

i put my palm over my mouth to stifle my laughter as robin broke the surface with a gasp. her hair covered her face. “you okay rob?” i asked, walking to the edge of the pool to help her out. 

she pushed her hair from her face. “i’ll be okay after i get my revenge.” she glared at steve who had his arms crossed over his chest with a proud smile. 

i shook my head. “you shouldn’t have done that.” i warned. 

he opened his mouth in disbelief. “she called me dingus!” he said in an attempt to justify his actions. 

i scoffed. “have fun then. she’s scary.” i whispered the last part as i walked past him, patting his shoulder. “don’t forget sunscreen.” 

“yes ma’am.” he grinned. 

i went back to my chair and watched from afar as robin tried to drag steve to the edge of the pool. she groaned in disappointment. “y/n, tell your boyfriend to just except his fate and get in the pool.” 

i smiled as steve looked at me. “just let her push you in the pool.” i told him. 

“but my hair.” he pointed to his head of perfectly styled hair. 

“just jump in!” i yelled at him. 

all the kids were sat on the edge of the pool watching in anticipation for steve to be pushed in. 

he dropped his head back and sighed, stepping onto the edge so that the fronts of his feet hung off over the water. 

robin grinned and ran with her arms in front of her so that she got all the leverage. 

i laughed when his exclaim of surprise was cut off by the water. white bubbles surrounded his spot of submersion until he came back up again, spitting the water from his mouth. 

all the kids cheered, chapping their hands and robin bowed. the kids all got up and jogged carefully to jump in all together around steve. 

“woah! guys-“ steve tried to stop them but got a wave of water in his face instead. 

i laughed.

“in what way was that funny?” steve asked, hoisting himself out of the pool so that he could walk over to me with a sly look on his face. 

i dropped my smile. “hey, no! don’t you dare!” 

he hooked his arms under my legs and back, picking me up. “you’re the only one who’s dry here.” 

i looked at him in annoyance. “steve harrington, don’t you dare throw me in!” i told him sternly. “i’ll kill you.” 

“no you won’t.” he laughed before tossing me into the pool. 

i yelped before being enveloped by the cool water, making the heat of summer feel more bearable. i got my head above water and blinked, feeling the water burn my eyes. 

steve was squatting on the edge as i swam up. he offered me his hand and i took it before planting my feet on the pools wall to pull him back in. 

“fuck you.” steve sputtered while pushing his hair out of his face. i laughed along with the kids as they swam around like they were minutes ago. “that was low.” 

i shrugged and swam to the ladder. “you’ll get over it.” 

[holylulusworld]

April Fools' Day

Summary: Steve and Bucky ask you to join their prank.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Steve Rogers

Warnings: language, pranks, tricks, fluff, implied smut

“Doll, wait!” Bucky runs after you; he grasps your wrist to stop you from leaving the Avengers Tower. “Wait. Steve and I need your help.”

“Bucky, I’m about to get some coffee. I don’t have time for your pranks,” you give him a stern look. Every year on April Fool’s Day Steve and Bucky turn into annoying little shits. They love to prank the team and everyone crossing their path. “If you try to mess with me again, I’ll cut your hair off and dye Steve’s hair green.”

“We won’t prank you,” Bucky smirks, remembering how you ran out of your room at the tower. Your skin and hair were covered in green goo. “I swear.” He crosses his heart. “Please, for me.”

“Fine,” you size Bucky up. “Just you know — super-soldier or not. If you mess with me today, I’ll beat you into a pulp and make it look like an accident. After you pranked all of our friends for years, no one will ask questions.”

“No pranks, doll,” he takes your hand and presses a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Please help us here.”

“Okay, spill it, Rogers,” you huff and cross your arms over your chest. Steve grins like the devil when he reveals his plan for this year’s April Fools’ Day. “I don’t have all day. Bucky already ruined my break.”

“You will love it,” Steve smirks and steps closer to you. He places both hands on your shoulders, making you shudder. They don’t know what effect they have on you. “Bucky and I decided to tell the team that we will ask you out on a date.”

“What? I—what?” You wrinkle your forehead. “How’s that a prank? We had lunch and dinner together more than I can count. We even have movie nights at your place or Bucky's. Though, Bucky has better snacks.”

“Hah, I knew it,” Bucky grins.

“Doll, we will tell them that we are dating,” Steve snickers. “You know how often they teased us for being inseparable, and that we do more than watch movies together. Bucky and I decided to trick the team and tell them they were right the whole time.”

“Steve, that’s a stupid prank. Maybe you can just put itching powder in their pants or something,” you try not to be part of their prank. “And how do you want to pretend that we are dating?”

“We will take you out for dinner, doll,” Bucky explains. He points at the suits lying on Steve’s couch. “We got the suits, and you can wear a dress. Steve booked a table at that little Italian restaurant you like so much. We will go back to the tower and pretend we are having sex.”

“Uh-Bucky got some porn on his phone,” Steve admits cheeks shades of pink. “We will pump up the volume and everyone passing my room will believe we are…”

“Nailing our best friend,” Bucky ends his friend’s line. He grins and claps his hands. “That’s a good plan. Right?”

You don’t know what to say. “Guys, that’s…”

“The best prank ever!” Steve exclaims.

“The next morning, when everyone tries to hide they heard us,” Bucky smirks. “Bam, we reveal nothing happened and call them pervs!”

They grin like cocky boys, not the super-soldiers saving the world all the time. You sigh. This is the worst idea ever and you’d love to tell them the truth. But a free meal is a free meal.

“Sounds good to me. You’ll pay.” You point your index finger at Steve. “No excuses. And I want dessert too.”

“Doll—wow!” Bucky and Steve swallow thickly when you step out of your room. You’re wearing a stunning dress and heels. Usually, you’re in your tactical suit or comfortable clothes. They never saw you wearing anything like the dress before.

“You look dashing too,” you wink at them. “Ready?”

“Yeah…uh…sure…” Steve offers his arm to you, earning an angry look from Bucky. “We are ready to go, Y/N.”

“What Steve said,” Bucky places his hand on the small of your back. “You look beautiful tonight, doll.”

Natasha smirks as both men fight over you. Before you go you tell them to stop fighting and find an agreement. You end up with Steve holding your right hand while Bucky holds your left hand.

“I guess she set her plan into motion,” Sam grins at Natasha. “Damn, she was right about their prank.”

“Poor super-soldiers,” Natasha snickers. “They have no clue what they got themselves into. Y/N knew about their plans and turned the tables. She finally got them to ask her on a date.”

“Do you think they will finally admit their feelings?”

“Sam, did you see the dress? Y/N got them wrapped around her pinky by the end of the night and I’m fairly sure, we will need noise-reducing headphones from now on…”

Natasha was right. The moment you came back from dinner and entered Steve’s room, they were all over you. Bucky didn’t need his phone. You made the most erotic noises they ever heard…

Tags in reblog.