#its thinking about baby steve hours

[doe-eyed-dreamr]

little!Steve Harrington

[sp0o0kylights]

Grass is green, water is wet, and Jonathan Byers does not like Steve Harrington.

These are known facts in the universe.

Computers were going to take over the world, a “mobile” phone was being invented, and Steve Harrington had lost most of his hearing.

These were unknown facts--rumors even, if you will. Eddie had never seen even a grain of truth to support any of them. 

(Well, maybe the computer thing, but only because Grant and Dustin both had made a couple of convincing arguments.) 

So he doesn’t think about it, when his freshman gang up on him. 

Doesn’t even factor the “can’t hear well” thing in, when he was tasked (demanded, whined, bitched and moaned at) with helping them explain to Steve why going to the release party of the new D&D box set, located at a hobby store only a mere 2 hour drive away, was important.

Eddie’s not even sure how the little shits got him to agree to do it until he’s standing in the parking lot in front of the former King himself. 

“The store’s leading up to the release with a handful of one-shots.” He’s explaining, unsure whether to pull out the bored act or play up his court jester persona, and thus mixing and matching on the fly. 

He does not care if Harrington doesn’t know what a one-shot is. 

“They’re releasing the set at midnight. You have to be there to get it though, you can’t have someone else pick it up for you because they only got a certain amount in.” 

Harrington’s frowning (no surprise) but it’s not until Eddie is well into his spiel about how his van is already full with the elder members of Hellfire, and thus has no room for the freshmen, that he realizes Steve isn’t quite looking at him. 

Is in fact, looking over his shoulder.

Eddie stops. Follows Harrington’s gaze.

Parked across from Steve’s Beemer, is Jonathan Byer’s barely working clunker car. 

A handful of steps in front of it, and thus nearly right behind Eddie, is the man himself.

His hands are still moving, mouth shaping words silent as he goes, his gaze locked not on Eddie or the kids--but on Steve. 

Who turns back around as Harrington’s eyes slide right back to him. 

“And this is taking place next Friday?” He says, in that sort of annoyed but resigned way parents aim at their children. “After school?” 

“I’d like to go during  school, but the freshmen insist you wouldn’t let them ditch out.” Eddie tells him. “They had two separate arguments about it.” 

Loud ones, that had interrupted the game and given Eddie a migraine. 

Once again Steve’s eyes slide away from him, to Jonathan. 

“They’re not skipping school.” He says suddenly, a glare forming and Jonathan makes an annoyed noise. 

“They argued about skipping, they’re not going to.” He says aloud, and finally steps up so that he’s next to Eddie instead of behind him. 

“Munson slow down, I can’t sign as fast as you’re talking.” He adds, in the hang-dog grumble he’s notorious for. 

Eddie stares at him. 

“Can he seriously not hear me?” 

“No.” Steve and Jonathan answer together. 

“I can kind of still hear,” Steve adds, gaze returning to Eddie’s face. “But its more loud music or noises. I can lip read, but you’re also talking too fast for that.” 

Without pausing, he turns back to Jonathan and says; “Why can’t you take them?”

“It’s Friday.” Byers deadpans. 

Eddie’s not an expert on sign language, but his hands somehow looked deadpan too. 

He’s not sure how Jonathan did that. 

“So?” Steve snarks back. 

What follows is an argument that Eddie is not, at all involved in, mostly because he’s too busy handling the fact that Jonathan Byers has learned sign language, for Steve Harrington, apparently, and given the tone the argument is taking they still don’t even like each other.  

Eventually the argument ends, Steve throwing his hands in the air and demanding that Jonathan owes him. 

(Eventually Eddie will corner the ever so quiet Will Byers and ask why the hell his brother learned sign language for someone he clearly fucking hates.

“Oh they don’t hate each other.” Baby Byers would say, in that shy, quiet way of his. “I think they’re actually friends now?” 

“You think?”

“Well--you’ve seen them.” Will shrugs. “I think being mean to each other is kinda their thing.” 

‘What the hell.’ Eddie would think, right up until he stumbled across one of the kids sign language books. 

Byers the Elder, he decides, isn’t the only person who should learn sign language to chew out Harrington properly.

The pay off is immediate. 

Or at least, the pay off of watching Steve’s shocked face the first time Eddie signs something vulgar at him is, anyway.)

[malum-forev]

First Trimester

(This is a short drabble I couldn’t get out of my head, idk what this is lol)

Bucky kept his head in his hands, eyes closed tightly. His breath ragged.

He could hear Steve’s loud footsteps pacing the room while Sam stood rooted in place. He could hear his friends’ heartbeats thumping rapidly.

“And you two-“ Steve couldn’t get the words out.

“That’s usually how that happens.” Sam retorted sarcastically.

Steve’s hands shot up. “I’m just trying to understand how this happened!”

“Looks like I should have had the birds and the bees conversation with both of you.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“What am I going to do?” Bucky croaked, his throat dry and scratchy. The question was mostly for himself, wondering just how he would manage everything happening in his life.

“You aren’t going to do anything.” Sam ran his hand over his face. “Before you go into crisis mode like a chicken running with its head chopped off, you need to make sure it’s yours.”

Bucky’s eyes snapped open.

“Sam-“ Steve’s cautious tone only made the Falcon more angry.

“Here’s what we know,” Sam’s voice was firm. “You two have got super soldier serum running through your veins, it changed your bodies drastically. Which obviously means your swimmers were altered, doctors told you the probabilities of you two getting someone knocked up are zero.”

“Close to zero.” Steve corrected.

“Whatever,” Sam rolled his eyes again. “Now- this one goes around the tri state are area banging anything with legs.”

Buckys cheeks burned red.

“Two months later, someone comes around saying they’ve got a super soldier baby brewing- does that not sound shady to anyone else?”

Steve rubbed his hand against his chin. “When did Dr. Cho say she could get a paternity test?”

“Two weeks.” Bucky whispered.

“Then these are going to be the most stressful two weeks of your life, kid.” Steve slumped his shoulders.

She hadn’t let the crippling nervousness seep into her body, work, friends and exhaustion had been great distractors. But now, as the steel gates of the Avengers compound opened she felt it.

She was the one who had encouraged a paternity test when she knocked on Bucky’s door weeks ago.

She hadn’t thought twice about missing her period the first month. Long hours at the art gallery we’re to blame, right? But as the days turned into weeks and the strange knot in her throat tightened, she decided to take a test.

Not thinking anything would pop up except the not pregnant label on the plastic test, she left it on the counter and forgot about it. That is, until a three minute timer rang and the scariest word ever written was staring at her. Pregnant.

(Y/n) waited a full week before visiting a gynecologist. Some gel, and ultrasound and some probing later, she was pregnant and that was that. She didn’t even register the bean sized blob on the screen. A muffled sound replaced the cheery doctor’s voice.

“Is Dad excited?” The young doctor smiled. Dad, fuck there’s a dad that needs to be notified.

(Y/n felt as if she’d stuffed a handful of gravel down her throat. She nodded weakly and lied. “He’s ecstatic.”

What she should have said is: he’s terrified.

When Bucky saw (Y/n)’s text on his phone, he’s ego shot up. He whistled as he prepared some eggs that morning, thinking highly of himself.

I don’t usually go back for seconds but I guess I can make an exception. Bucky thought as he shaved his face that morning. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a tight shirt, a combination he’d read online was the bee’s knees for getting women riled up these days.

But there might as well have been nothing underneath those boxers he was wearing because the shocking news killed any kind of vibe he had been feeling.

(Y/n) rocked backwards and forwards nervously as she stood in his living room. She didn’t even want to come in but he’d insisted. Now, Bucky was slumped back on his couch with his eyes set on the floor.

“I know this sounds strange-“ she swallowed. “But I don’t usually do what we did, I don’t do one night stands. I love relationships which is why my friends convinced me to sleep with you- not that I needed convincing you’re like so hot but you know what I mean. Well, I guess you don’t know what I mean because you barely know me, barely know I exist.”

“You love relationships?” Bucky’s eyes widened.

“I-well- shit- I shouldn’t have said that. It sounds-“ You sighed deeply, trying to collect her thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is that, you’re the only person I’ve had sex with in- a long time. And I want you to know that I’m not telling you this to make you feel like you have to be involved- that is if we decide to keep it. I just thought you should know that I’m pregnant.”

She tried to make her voice sound firm and confident but her whole body rejected the idea. There was nothing she was more afraid of than this. This life altering decision.

“And you’re thinking of keeping it.” He whispered, blue eyes staring back at her.

(Y/n) nodded slowly then shook her head. “I don’t know. Yes, maybe. I have a stable job, pretty decent insurance and a nice apartment downtown so, I’ve got the basics covered. I’ve always wanted children, not now but- I don’t know.”

“I’m also aware this is insane news so, I understand if you need time to process or decide if you want to- be involved, I guess.”

Bucky slowly nodded. She wrapped her cardigan closer to her body and his whole body jerked up, standing from the couch.

“Ar-are you, showing?” Bucky’s curious tone made her lips tweak upwards.

“It‘s been like two months and it’s the size of a bean so, no.” She tried to lighten the mood.

“You’ve been to the doctor?”

She nodded. “She told me I could have a paternity test done in a couple of weeks, if that’s something you’re interested in.”

Paternity test- paternity. Those words didn’t even seem real to Bucky. It had been such a distant thing that the thought hadn’t registered in his mind yet.

“I’ve got a couple of doctors that would probably know how to handle that-“ he said pointing to her stomach. “With the whole, serum and everything. Would you mind if I talked to them?”

“I don’t mind, whatever’s better for bean, right?”

Bucky’s body was enveloped in a foreign feeling. So different than anything he’d felt before, an unsettling feeling in his stomach that brought goosebumps to his skin.

“The bean?” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows.

“Not the bean. Just, bean.” Her cheeks burned and a smile developed on her lips. “The doctor said it’s going to be a while until I can find out the sex so, I’ve been calling it that. Bean.”

“Bean.” Bucky repeated quietly, fighting from letting out a smile. He couldn’t let himself get involved, not before a decision was made. Did he want to be in bean- the baby’s life? Was he even the father?

(Y/n) and Bucky walked through the white corridors at the Avengers med bay in silence.

Both of them stopped at an opened door.

“You sure you don’t want to come in and check I don’t switch up the viles, rig the paternity results?” She regretted the joke as soon as the words flew out of her mouth. Bucky’s blue eyes widened. She had tried to lighten the mood but the only thing she succeeded was to make Bucky uncomfortable-

“Good thinking,” Bucky’s lips twitched upwards. “I’m sure having my old ass sperm in there was your plan all along.”

She couldn’t help a giggle escape her mouth. Bucky placed his hand on her lower back and lead her into the room.

He held her hand through the procedure and followed her back to her car after everything was done.

“I guess I’ll call you once the results are in.” Bucky bit his bottom lip as she nodded, the tired look on (Y/n) worried him. “I just wanted to say, again, how grateful I am you’re being so cooperative.”

(Y/n) saluted him. “Anything for our troops.”

Bucky tipped his head back with laughter. “Please let me know when you get home safe.”

—

Her feet ached, scratch that, her whole body hurt. (Y/n) usually worked a double shift on Sunday’s to get double pay since that was the day rich people usually liked to shop at the gallery. Even though this was routine for her, she felt extremely tired this time. Pregnancy was starting to take a toll on her body.

(Y/n) heard the rain patter intensify as someone opened the glass doors.

“H-hi.” Was all she heard.

“We’re closed.” She called out but no one answered.

A sopping wet Bucky stood at the front of the gallery.

“Looks like you need to buy an umbrella.” She smiled.

“I’m going to be a dad.” The words came out stuttered, like he was trying to stop them.

Bucky stopped talking the second he received the email. DNA test result came back positive. He was the father. A father. That word echoed through his mind all day but he didn’t tell anyone a single thing, not until he could figure out how to manage the information. Steve would try to find solutions, Sam would freak out, Nat would laugh and Tony would probably ignore him. Each and every one of his friends’ reactions would stress him out more than he already was. He had no one, no one to talk to about this. Except her.

(Y/n) sighed deeply, taking her heels off and walking towards him. Without saying anything, she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought Bucky close to her. The tension he felt between his shoulder blades disappeared the second he was in her arms.

She softly held his face in her hands. “I haven’t decided anything and we still have time to figure out wether or not we want to keep bean-“

“Bean, oh God bean.” Becky’s eyes met hers. I can’t let bean down. He thought.

“I understand if you don’t want to go through with this.”

“Look at me.” Bucky’s voice was hoarse. “I need you to know that I want this- I want bean so much you have no idea. The thought of me having a kid was so lost but you’ve- I- I am forever grateful and indebted with you, you have no idea.”

(Y/n) smiled. “So we’re doing this? We’re having a baby?”

“Let’s have a baby.” He said.

Part 2: Second Trimester

[queenie-ofthe-void]

“Led Zeppelin? Never heard of them,” Steve lies, like a liar. Of course he’s heard of them, thinks maybe Hop’s mentioned them before. Doesn’t really know the band well, and probably definitely couldn’t name a song. But the comment serves its purpose, and the trap is set.

Eddie calls it the Zep Campaign. Every day they’ll listen to one album, and Steve will pick his favorite song from each. Eight days for eight albums. On the last day, they’ll narrow it down to one song to rule them all– because apparently even Led Zeppelin likes the Mordor books Dustin doesn’t shut up about. 

Each day, Steve struggles to pick a favorite. Day four isn’t bad– doesn’t mind a song that is actually called Rock and Roll, which is just a lazy title in his opinion– but they’re only half way through and the songs are all starting to sound the same. An endless stream of too-fast guitar melodies and weird, wobbly sounds he’s sure he’s never heard before. The vocals are his favorite part, but the lyrics are vague and confusing.

Long story short, he’s not a fan.

But this growing thing between him and this ridiculous metalhead is new, fragile. So if it’s important to Eddie, it’s important to Steve. 

“Stevie, we really don’t have to keep doing this,” Eddie concedes. It’s day eight, the final album, and he thinks even Eddie might be desperate to listen to something different. “You’ve listened to every other album and honestly this one is the worst. They were all on drugs, and this isn’t even their sound ya know? Like it’s not even real metal.”

And honestly, Steve does know. He’s been listening to this band for eight days and yeah, all the songs sound the same. But these ones are different. Softer. He’s made it this far, and he’s nothing if not persistent for the people he loves.

Sprawled out on the floor next to the boy he likes, passing a fading joint back and forth, he thinks he can suffer a bit longer. 

“No Eds come on, we’re halfway through anyways. Just flip it over and we’ll smoke while we finish.” Eddie huffs a sigh, but Steve can see the slight uptick of his lips, reminding him of why he’s doing this. He flips the record and crawls back, presses himself flush up against Steve’s side.

The next song is long, too long to keep his attention. They burn down their joint and Steve leans heavily onto Eddie’s open chest. He gets lost staring at the vinyl art. A guy dressed in a fancy white suit sits alone in a dive bar, the only splash of color against a dull background. The bartender looks gruff, like the rest of the bar, making the man stand out even more. He wonders if that’s how he looks posted up at the Hideout during Eddie’s shows. Wonders if he looks just as out of place in Eddie’s life as this man does, even though he looks comfortable there too. 

Eddie shifts his arms around Steve, bringing him back to the present. The song has changed and Steve feels the slow melody wash over him.

“Wait,” Steve cries out, flailing up and out of Eddie’s arms as he registers the new song. It’s soft with a steady beat. It’s got synth-- the sound Eddie told him he likes in pop music. This song isn’t loud and chaotic like the rest. The voice is soothing and the lyrics are mostly simple enough. It’s different, and he can’t believe it but–

All of my love, all of my love

all of my love to you, oh

“This one. I like this song. Like actually like it.”

Eddie sits up and stares at him. He can see the dramatic shock and annoyance on Eddie’s face. But it’s doing nothing to hide his broad smile and shining eyes. 

“Steven. Stevie. Baby, sweetheart, this absolutely cannot be your favorite Zeppelin song. Out of all the songs on all the albums and all the hours of poetic melodies I’ve forced upon you, you choose the most non-Zep Zeppelin song.” Steve laughs sweetly as he watches Eddie fail to keep the glee out of his supposedly annoyed voice.

The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again

One voice is clear above the din

“This song isn’t even metall!" Eddie screeches. He rants and raves, waiving his arms as he regales Steve with all of the reasons he should absolutely not like this one particular song. He's shining with happiness, dial turned up to a hundred and it's all aimed at Steve. He can't help but to gaze back fondly, enraptured in the adorably obnoxious spectacle.

"It’s all synth, almost no guitar because Page didn’t even write this one! He wrote all of them except two songs, Stevie, and of course that’s the one you chose. No one who knows good music even likes this album. It’s not even metal music and honestly I almost didn’t show it to you, that’s how bad it is!” They're both giggling, leaning falling slowly into the other's space. Facing one another, their feet tangled together, Steve twists and pulls on Eddie's rings. Just to touch.

“Well, maybe that’s why I like it,” Steve snarks, taking his hand. “Plus it’s a love song.” Daring to reach out.

All of my love, all of my love, yes

All of my love to you

Eddie’s smile dims a bit, softens at the edges as he grows serious. “It’s not a love song Stevie, not like that.” He’s looking at Steve but he isn’t. Looking past him into the back of his thoughts. “The lead singer, he wrote it for his son. His kid died of some kind of bad illness while he was on tour. Didn’t make it back in time.”

He pauses, and Steve waits. Knows Eddie has more to say, hoping his patience will pay off. Eddie’s sight refocuses and he heaves a heavy sigh. His eyes glisten as they lock onto Steve.  

“My mom used to sing it all the time. While she was cooking, or putting me to bed, or pulling weeds in the garden. She’d sing it constantly. Hell, she didn’t even know all the words, but she’d still try and sing the interludes– ya know, the music between the lyrics.” He laughs lightly, a stray tear just barely hanging on. Steve tightens his grip around Eddie’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A silent sign of gentle support and encouragement. 

“Sounds like a love song to me,” Steve whispers. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls Eddie into a tight hug. 

All of my love, all of my love, to you now

“A love song just for you, from both of us.”

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

I've always headcanoned that Eddie loves Led Zeppelin, because he plays guitar and loves metal and reads Lord of the Rings so of course he would.

[flowercrowngods]

“Baby?”

Steve lifts his head off the pillow to look at Eddie, his back arching in a much needed way after lying on his stomach for so long, and he ends up groaning appreciatively as he stretches his back a little more. It makes Eddie smile. All the small things do.

Overcome with sudden but gentle affection, Steve rolls over with a matching smile and comes to a stop lying halfway beneath Eddie, getting a glorious view of his deepening dimples.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Eddie says, his hand coming up to brush Steve’s hair out of his forehead. Steve leans into his warmth a little further, feeling so incredibly loved when Eddie looks at him like that.

It’s infinite, what he feels for Eddie. What he feels with Eddie.

“Oh? ‘Bout what?”

Eddie leans down and brushes a kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose. “You,” he says. “Me. Us.”

Steve hums, wrapping himself in Eddie’s scent as he buries his face in his chest, his arms trapped between them. He can’t move. Can hardly breathe. It’s perfect, and Eddie always indulges his cat-like tendencies, as he calls it.

“Tell me about your thoughts?”

A hand weaves its way into his hair, scratching wonderfully along his scalp in lazy, soothing patterns.

“I’m gonna put pillows on the walls for you.”

“Hmm?”

“When we have our own place. I’m gonna put pillows on the walls for you. In the kitchen even, so you can sit on the floor and still be comfy. You can have a little nook for floor time with Robin. And it’s gonna be padded with pillows, but the ones that are still solid. Only a little soft. Still grounding.” Eddie mumbles, a little lost in thought like he’s still imagining it all unfold.

Steve melts, first rolling further into him and then back, so he can look up and meet those soft, soft eyes.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“All the time. Never wanna tell you about it so I won’t ruin the surprise, but, I don’t know. Wanted to tell you. You’re gonna have bougie-ass wall pillows, angel.”

And Steve doesn’t know how to handle this. How to take it all, take everything Eddie gives him and live his life an unchanged man. His heart is going to burst one of these days. It’s gonna burst and it’s gonna go everywhere, remind the world for all eternity of the love they shared. Built. Shaped and reshaped in all the ways they needed.

“Everything,” he says, his voice weak with the awe he feels, his own hand coming up to Eddie’s cheek.

“Hmm?” Eddie’s nuzzling the palm of his hand, brushing kiss over kiss to the centre.

“You’re— You’re everything. Can’t believe it sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?” Eddie teases, making Steve laugh for the first time in hours. It’s easy. God, it’s so easy.

“Don’t be so full of yourself.”

“Oh, I’m gonna be full of som—“

Laughing, Steve claps his hand over Eddie’s mouth, shutting him up and revelling in the giggle that follows before Eddie nips on his palm.

“I hate you,” Steve grins, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s middle.

“Yeah, well,” he hums, fond affection settling permanently on that pretty, pretty face. “‘M still gonna put pillows on the wall for you.”

Steve sighs, hoping to relieve some of the intensity he’s feeling. It’s overwhelming, even after all this time.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” Eddie whispers, hovering above him in an almost-kiss. “Endlessly.”

@puppy-steve i love you. i’d put pillows on the wall for you 🤍🌷

🤍 permanent tag list gang (i hope this is okay even though it’s only a tiny thing) (and maybe some reprieve from all my current angst): @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer (lmk if you want on or off)

[runninriot]

(Un)Used

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember

week 2 prompts: backseat, bruise, soft and slow | rated: E | wc: 2.770 | tags: self-worth issues, eddie is a mess, steve takes care of him, blow job, hand job, anal sex, emotional hurt/comfort, implied strangers to lovers | also on ao3

Eddie's not used to this. Or only part of it.

Because the feeling is oddly familiar and yet, everything about it is different.

It's the harshness that resonates in his body like a well-known song; rough fingers digging deep into tender flesh, nails leaving crescent-shaped dents in burning skin. It's the pressure of a grip so tight it's sure to leave bruises, Eddie recognises like an old friend.

But there’s more. Things he doesn’t know how to name, how to take.

Eddie shivers in violent ecstasy, his movements out of control, nerve endings set ablaze with every touch and every whisper. Every last bit of sanity lost to a sensation that's so new, so wrong, so good, so contrary to everything his body has become accustomed to.

What he knows is the ache, the unnatural twist of his limbs when he's being held down in the backseat of someone's car, fucked mercilessly on the side of the road or at the far end of an empty parking lot in the dark of the night.

What he's used to, is offering his body to nameless faces and hands that take more than he should let them. More than he should be willing to give.

What Eddie thought is the way it always is - the same experience each time, the same self-hatred that holds his soul captive, the same nasty aftertaste of unkind words and bitter relief - suddenly seems to break and crumble under the lightness, the care, the dignity offered to him like a gift he doesn't deserve.

   "So beautiful," the voice above him whispers, sounds like it shares a secret with him about him. Like there’s something in him that’s worth flaunting, spread out on a bed covered in soft sheets, bathed in comforting light, put on display for his admirer to look at. For him to be seen.

It's scary.

And not for the first time tonight, Eddie tries to hide, to cover his eyes with his arm, to turn around and bury his face in the pillow below.

But Steve doesn't let him.

Steve, whose fingers are everywhere, tracing blemished skin that covers the body that houses a broken soul. Unearthing buried fears and insecurities, laying them all out on the surface, marking his findings with kisses like he’s putting his name on each one of them. Not to claim ownership but to make something new, take what’s damaged and give it new purpose, new life.

   “Can’t believe how lucky I am,” the voice whispers sweetly, tickles the sensitive skin on his neck.

   “Steve, please!”

It’s all Eddie can answer, all he can offer, all he can think. Just this one name on repeat, like a prayer, over and over, because there is nothing else left on his mind.

   “I know, baby, I know.”

Steve’s words are supposed to be soothing, the low vibration of his voice should be comforting but how is Eddie supposed to stay calm when Steve’s tongue is circling and licking his cock, teasing his slit, massaging his balls, leaving a trace of trickling spit on its way? Lips moving up and down and around, taking him in and out but never enough, never to finish what he started what feels like hours ago.

Eddie is on edge, has been since the moment Steve carried him here, laid him down on his bed, undressed him in slow motion, one piece at a time until he was left naked from his neck to his toes – no belt buckle left to press into bent thighs, no shirt crumpling up around his chest, just his pure, bare skin, pale and inked. Left with nothing to hide behind, to obscure the vision.

He’s never felt so vulnerable in his life, can’t remember anyone ever looking at him like Steve does. Intense and focused, like he’s trying to memorise every part of him. Smiling, like he enjoys the view, like he likes what he sees.

Steve’s mouth is back on his – when did he stop sucking his cock? Eddie can still feel him down there, the lingering touch of his lips but he can taste himself now on the other man’s tongue when it licks deep inside.

   “Can I fuck you, baby?” Steve asks when they part and Eddie blinks slowly at him.

Why is he asking? Wasn’t this the plan all along? Isn’t it common knowledge that Eddie is easy, always free to be used.

   “Please,” Eddie sighs, or maybe he moans, or maybe he doesn’t say anything at all because Steve is still looking at him with questioning eyes.

   “Fuck me, Steve,” he tries again, more demanding this time, needs to speed this up because-

Because the sooner Steve comes, the sooner Eddie can go home to lick his wounds, allow himself to fall to pieces, maybe cry in the shower, then smoke himself numb. And tomorrow, he can pick up the pieces of a heart torn to shreds.

It’s the same every time and yet, this time, it’s worse.

Because Steve isn’t nameless, Steve isn’t anyone, Steve isn’t anything like those other guys, the ones on the hunt for nothing but a hole to sink in.

Steve kisses him, touches him greedy but gentle – and that makes him so much more dangerous.

Eddie knows selfishness, knows how to make himself small, how to bend into the perfect shape to be used.

What he doesn’t know, is kindness and light-hearted giggles and praise.

This adoration in Steve’s eyes hurts because it creates an illusion of how things could be if someone would care. If someone would want Eddie for more than just a quick, hard fuck.

It’s an illusion he can’t allow himself to let take root in his mind, or worse, in his heart. Can’t allow it to shine light on the darkness inside, make warmth where he’s cold, make soft where he’s turned to stone.

Eddie isn’t destined to be loved. Never has been, never will be.

So with a bit of relief but also a lot of regret, Eddie feels like his breathing finally slows when Steve moves to kneel between his thighs, one hand still connected to his skin while he leans over to grab a condom and lube.

This is the part Eddie knows.

Without thinking, without asking Steve how he wants him, Eddie lifts himself up on trembling arms, moves to turn around. On his hands and knees Eddie finally recognises his own body and it feels like a spell had been lifted from his foggy mind.

With his head bowed down and his back arched, arms bent at the elbows and his legs spread wide, Eddie waits.

And waits.

And-

startles but somehow instantly relaxes when he feels Steve’s warm palms on his shoulders, gliding down his back in slow strokes, resting on his hips where he grips him tight.

Eddie doesn’t know what happens, suddenly finds himself flat on his back again, Steve looming over him, looking down with a mix of confusion and worry that makes Eddie squirm nervously.

   “Nu-uh, baby. Want you to be comfortable. I want to see you. Can’t kiss you when you’re hiding your pretty face.”

Steve words slice through him like a blade, make something hot run through his veins – pain and desire, a mix of vile things and sunshine – knocking all the air out of Eddie’s lungs with a moan so desperate, so needy.

   “Steve, oh God, please just-“

    Take me. Fuck me. Use me.

The words get stuck in his throat when he sucks in a shocked breath.

   “Fuck!” Eddie cries out, lost in the feeling of Steve’s lube slicked thumb rubbing over his rim in circles.

   “Relax, baby. Gonna take it easy, wanna make you feel so good.”

Before Eddie can protest, Steve’s mouth is back on his cock, lips closed around the head while he flicks his tongue around in the same, agonising motion that drove Eddie insane before.

It’s too much to take in, too many sensations at once, with Steve sinking deeper on Eddie’s hardness, inch per throbbing inch, while the tip of his thumb prods at his entrance, slow and soft and so very careful. The contrast of Steve’s greedy mouth swallowing him down and the gentleness of his finger pushing slowly inside, causes a short circuit in Eddie’s brain.

All he can do is whine and whimper, helplessly stammering useless pleas through parted lips. Steve’s name is the only thing keeping him tied to the here and now as Eddie slowly loses himself to the feeling, lets himself go, allows himself to be given wave after wave of coiling pleasure when Steve’s two fingers deep.

Suddenly, something rips through Eddie like his insides are made of exploding fireworks, when Steve hits that bundle of nerves no one had ever bothered to find before.

   “Steve, oh god, I-“

The warning dies on his tongue when he comes with a cry, filling Steve’s mouth with his release, coming hard and hot down his throat.

Steve swallows roughly, like he’s trying to keep it all in. It’s too much, Eddie can feel it, his lips slick with cum and saliva, dripping from the corners of his mouth and down his chin where he hovers above Eddie’s middle.

He doesn’t stop, though. Keeps going. Keeps thrusting his fingers while sucking on Eddie’s softening cock and Eddie wants to cry, needs him to stop, wants to beg him to keep going forever.

It’s a sensation unlike any he’s ever experienced before.

This, Eddie thinks, is what it must feel like to come from actual pleasure and not just from giving into his body’s natural impulse, what it feels like to drift, to fly, to be high on adrenaline and serotonin and whatever fucking hormones make him feel like he’s on top of the world.

Finally, Steve releases his spent cock, slick fingers slowing their movement before they pull out completely, leaving Eddie’s stretched hole empty and clenching around nothing.

And he wants to complain, wants to tell him to ‘come back, come here, need you inside, need you, please!’ but it’s hard to breathe, let alone think, so instead he whines and blindly searches for Steve’s hand to hold.

   “I got you, baby. I’m right here.”

Eddie feels like jelly, like molten wax in Steve’s hands when he grabs him by his legs and bends his knees and pulls him up and-

   “Tell me if it’s too much and I stop.”

-pushes the head of his cock into the waiting heat of Eddie’s body, slowly, so fucking slowly and careful.

For a moment, Eddie isn’t sure if it’s really happening or if it is maybe just wishful thinking. But as his mind slowly drifts back to earth and his surroundings come back into focus, as he begins to feel his own body again, he realises he isn’t just making this up.

He can feel the way his muscle stretches around Steve’s cock, pushing in and pulling back out, deeper inside with every forward movement of his hips.

It’s heavenly torture, the way Steve takes his time, lets Eddie adjust to the feeling, gives just a bit at a time. And it drives Eddie wild, makes him feral with want for ‘more, more, deeper, please!’

But Steve doesn’t waver, keeps up with the tormenting pace until finally, with one more thrust, he’s buried balls deep.

   “Fuck, baby! Ah, feels so good. So tight around me.”

If Eddie wasn’t busy moaning like a bitch in heat, he’d laugh at those words. Feels like crying at the notion of him being anything other than used-up and sloppy, a worn-out object, frayed at the edges, torn apart by too many before.

   “So tight, so perfect. And all just for me.”

He says it like he means it and something inside Eddie shifts. Warmth spreads from his chest in every other part of his body, through flesh and bone, settles in every cell, something that makes him feel new, different, other. He feels like drowning, like with every thrust, Steve pushes him deeper into a sea of light.

Submerged in sunshine, surrounded by white noise, Eddie lets himself fall.

He’s so lost, he doesn’t even notice the way his own cock is straining hard against his belly, leaking at the tip, making a mess where it throbs with every snap of Steve’s hips. The rhythm is soothing, harder now than it was before but steady, pushing deep, filling him with a pleasure that feels like something else, something holy, something he doesn’t know how he ever existed without.

Eddie floats, sinks, dies.

And comes back alive when his second orgasm hits even harder than the first, hits him the moment Steve cries out his name like he’s calling for God.

Out of breath and visibly exhausted, Steve can barely keep himself up on his trembling arms, but he still leans down to capture Eddie’s mouth in a feverish kiss.

   “So perfect,” Steve whispers again and this time, he agrees.

   “Thank you”, Eddie answers before he closes his eyes.

-----

Eddie doesn’t know how much time has passed. It felt like he only blinked, maybe rested his heavy lids for a minute or two. Or maybe five.

But when he opens his eyes again, he finds himself cleaned up and covered by a soft blanket, curled up next to Steve, head resting on the other man’s chest.

When he lifts his head to look up, Steve is already looking back at him, a beautiful smile on his lips.

   “There you are. How do you feel?”

The question should be easy enough to answer, but somehow Eddie struggles to find the right words.

Because how can he explain to a man he only met tonight, that he’s never felt better. That he can’t remember a single time his body hadn’t felt like he’d been run over by a bus after being fucked.

That no one ever managed or let alone tried to make Eddie come twice.

That here, in Steve’s arms, Eddie feels safe.

None of these answers seem right, feel too heavy, too loaded with memories. Years of putting up with undeserving strangers suddenly come crashing down on him and Eddie only realises he’s crying when Steve wipes at a tear with his thumb.

   “Hey, what’s wrong? Did I-“

Eddie shakes his head immediately, doesn’t want Steve to think even for one second that he’s done something wrong. If anything, Steve showed Eddie how much better his life could’ve been if he hadn’t resigned so early in life. If he hadn’t given himself up, treating his own body like trash – why would anyone treat him better than he treats himself?

Except, Steve did. Showed him what gentle touch feels like. What it’s like to be kissed while being taken apart. How wonderful it can be not to rush, to draw out every part of this wondrous game, how beautiful this act can be, how soft, how uplifting and rewarding.

   “Happy,” is all Eddie can say, breath hitching when he tries to swallow another sob trying to break free.

   “So those are happy tears?” Steve asks, and Eddie can hear the concern in his voice.

He nods, stops, shakes his head again, stops, huffs out a frustrated laugh.

   “I’m happy. You made me happy. But I’m sad because-“

Because what? Because he can’t have this forever? Can’t stay here to rest in Steve’s arms all night? Can’t come back for more?

   “You don’t have to tell me right now. Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow? Only if you want.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, his heart skips a beat.

   “T-tomorrow?” he repeats unbelieving.

   “Mhm,” Steve hums, while he pulls Eddie closer, “tomorrow. Because everything is better after a good night’s sleep, and a hot shower, and a proper breakfast.”

   “You- you want me to stay for breakfast?”

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes as if Eddie just said something stupid.

   “Right now, I just want to hold you, if that’s okay?”

And before Eddie can answer, Steve turns off the light and covers the room in comfortable darkness. He kisses the top of his head, sighing contently as he sinks deeper into the mattress, taking Eddie with him, holding him tight in his warm embrace.

   “Promise you’ll stay the night?”

Eddie smiles, bites down a laugh when his mind offers ‘I’ll stay forever, if you let me’.

   “Promise,” he says instead, closes his eyes and lets the rhythm of Steve’s heart slowly lull him to sleep.

He’s not used to this part, to being held like something worth keeping.

But he hopes, believes, that one day he will be.

[sameatsfunions]

Day 7 of a steddie Halloween.

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Eddie was walking back to his van, his eyes stayed glued to the floor, the wind blowing his hair back as it gusted over him. It was October, Halloween was right around the corner and Eddie wasn’t excited this year. He didn’t know why he felt so out of place, usually this was his favorite Holliday. Something about this year was just lonely for him.

He was about to get into his van when he heard it. A small meow. It was so quiet, Eddie almost didn’t hear it. His eyebrows furrowed as he turned around, trying to pinpoint the sound.

He looked by the garbage cans on the side of the road, by the bushes, and then he looked under his van, and there it was. The world’s smallest, fluffy black kitten.

Eddie felt his heart melt as he got down on all fours and started to call for it.

“Come here… psppspsps” the cat just stared at him through small little eyes that were barely open.

“You can’t be more than a couple months old.” Eddie said as he tried to crawl under his van, not entirely fitting. He retreated and sat next to the curb, waiting.

He waited… and waited… and waited. Then he waited some more. And eventually after about an hour of him just sitting there, the kitten came out slowly. Eddies eyes were closed because he was so tired, and the only way he knew the kitten had come out was from the tiny meow.

His eyes snapped open as he looked for his new friend, and there it was just at his feet, looking at him with curious eyes. “Hi there.” He said, reaching a hand out, watching as its little fragile body wobbled as it tried to move towards his hand.

“Awh… you’re so cute, come here.” Eddie said, reaching out and gently picking it up and holding it close to his chest. the purrs starting almost immediately as Eddie stroked its tiny head with a light touch from his hand.

He stood up slowly and walked to his van, and carefully got in, situating himself so the cat rested in his lap. He drove to the nearest store that had cat food, bringing the little friend with him inside.

He stared at the aisle of animal products, completely unsure of what to get. “Well I can’t get you normal cat food because you’re just a baby.” He said looking at the little friend in his arm; It was so tiny he only needed the one to hold it.

A monotoned voice came from behind him, “need help finding anything.” Catching Eddie off guard. He turned around abruptly, his breath being sucked out of him as he saw the most handsome and perfect man he’s ever seen. “Uh-I. - uh” he choked, unable to get words out.

The guys face changed from a dead pan empty look, to a slight smile and a sparkle slowly forming in his eyes. “Awe, hello… can I pet the little guy?” His eyes flicked up to meet eddies, who silently nodded unable to form any words. Eddie read his name tag as he got closer. Leaning into his space as he talked and gently pet the half asleep kitten. “Hello, oh my goodness look at you. Hi…” his name was Steve, and now he was looking at Eddie, less than a foot from him. “What’s the gender?” Eddie swallowed hard as he finally spoke a full sentence, “I don’t know yet. I just uhm- found it outside.”

Steve smiled at Eddie, “Can I?” He said, gesturing to Eddie with his hands out. Eddie reluctantly nodded and slowly passed the small baby to Steve, watching as he cooed and smiled, looking at the kitten. “I think it’s a girl.” He passed her back to Eddie, and looked up at him. “I’m Steve.”

Eddie nodded and said a small “yeah, name tag- Eddie.” And maneuvered his tiny new friend in his hands to be comfortable, and returned his gaze to the wall of pet supplies, a sigh falling past his lips. “You know anything about cat food?” He asked looking back over to Steve, who to his surprise was already looking at the options. “I do… and I think-“ he watched as Steve grabbed a 6 pack of small cans of wet food. “This is what you’re going to want.” He looked over at Eddie smiling. “There’s a bit more you’re going to need too.”

Eddie followed Steve around the aisle, watching him grab a few more things, following him up to the front counter, small conversation coming with ease. This is nice. Eddie thinks, forgetting that he doesn’t really KNOW Steve. They were just strangers exchanging polite words.

Eddie watched steve as he set the handful of items on the counter, and walked around to the employee side. “Do you plan on taking her to the vet?” Eddie gave him a confused look. “Why?” He asked, genuinely curious as to why. “She seems okay to me…” he said now looking down at the small kitten whose eyes were partially open.

“Well, she might have worms, and she probably has fleas.” Steve said looking up every time he scanned an item. “You also should take her up to get shots and to get spayed.” Eddie didn’t know what that meant. He tried to use process of elimination but he was running up dry. “Spayed?”

“Yeah, it’s where they make it so they can’t have more kittens. I’m not sure if they can do that right now because she’s so young but there is a possibility.” He looked at the register and gave Eddie his total.

“Uh shit one sec..” Eddie said, trying to find his wallet. “Can you uh- can you hold her?” He asked, looking at Steve with begging eyes.

“Of course!” Steve said, eyes lighting back up as he reached out to grab her from eddies chest. “Hi sweetheart. Oh aren’t you precious.” Eddie kept peeking at the perfect little moment in front of him while looking in his pockets. He couldn’t find his wallet and he realized it must be in his van. “Uh- I don’t have it on me, it’s probably outside- do you mind?” He asked as he stepped backwards, watching as Steve nodded, still focusing solely on the small kitten.

Eddie quickly went to his van, and grabbed his wallet, practically jogging on the way back. By the time he arrived back at the counter Steve had fully enveloped the kitten into his own chest.

“I might have to fight you for her Eddie.” Steve mumbled out to him as he stared at the kitten with more love than anyone has ever looked at Eddie in his whole life.

“Or I can just give you my number and you could come by and help me out- because to be honest I have no idea what I’m doing.” Eddie said breathlessly as he realized how little he knew about taking care of something else- he could barely take care of himself.

Steve’s head snapped up from the cat, his eyes glimmering. “Really?” He asked, Eddie thought he sounded hopeful. “That would be- amazing, yes.” Steve said, passing the small kitten over in exchange for the cash Eddie had fished out of his wallet.

“Are you thinking of any names yet?” Steve asked as he bagged eddies items. Eddie shook his head no, as Steve passed him the bag. “Well maybe I can help you with that too?” He gave Eddie a small smile, and Eddie felt his heart racing. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Eddie gave Steve his number, said his goodbye, letting him say goodbye to the kitten, and walked back to his van. “Well that went better than expected, huh.” He said to the little kitten whose purrs never faded since Eddie first picked her up.

“You liked him hmm.” He asked the kitten another question as he situated himself. “What about soot. You like that name huh?” He asked a smile forming in his face. “Let’s go home and give you a warm bath, and we can eat and get you settled in hmm.” He spoke with a gentleness he didn’t know he had, and softly ran a hand down her fluffy fur. “My little soot.”

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[ididdedurmom]

More evil head cannons

I have silly ideas about the gang after the event of the story, everyone lives, except Bob

PONY:

Has a thousand yard stare when he zones out

Has the loudest, most disgusting, mucus filled cough ever

Actually really good at drawing

Has drawn every member of the gang at least twice

Loves physical touch, he leans on his friends when their sitting next to him.

Actually screams during horror movies, like loud genuine screams

Loves play fighting with Darry, like full on wrestling

Steve taught him how to drive

He either walks like a ghost or stomps, there is no in between

He can play one song on the guitar, and that’s it

His legs are super strong, so his kicks hurt really bad

He would be better at track, but his smoking habits hold him back

He feels jealous of Soda and Darry because they had more time with their parents

He and Darry have matching reading glasses

SODA:

He says “I’m just a girl” anytime he gets in trouble

He has used his pretty privilege to get out of being arrested multiple times

Despite how handsome he knows he is, he still feels super insecure about his looks

He steals from the DX station constantly

He and Steve spend hours gossiping about their customers once both of their shifts are over

A dog bit him when he was a kid, now he’s deathly afraid of them

He loves physical affection, hugging him is the best way to cheer him up

Absolute candy addict

Candy is the #1 item he steals from the DX

He broke his dominant hand once, and now his handwriting is permanently ruined

He reads insanely slow and monotone when he reads out loud

He either sleeps like a rock, or wakes up from the slightest sound, there is no in between

He lives in his flannel, that thing hasn’t been washed in literal years

He suffers from middle child syndrome, he knows his brothers love him, but they don’t pay enough attention to him

DARRY:

He hates his jobs, he knows he has to go but he can’t stand them

All of his coworkers are old and they treat him like a child (which he’s kind of okay with in a way)

He loves watching cartoons but he feels like he’d be wasting his time

He sneezes like a dad

He wakes up at 4 am and works out immediately

Loves compliments and words of affection

Doing favors is his love language

He has the whitest legs ever, he’s all tan on the top and snow white on the bottom

His tan ends where his pants start

Small bits of his hair are grey, he doesn’t know

He has a fear of abandonment

He is insanely flexible for a man of his size, like he can touch the floor standing up with ease

He hit a dog with his car once and cried for 2 hours straight

He loves cuddling on the couch with his brothers, it helps him relax

He despises Curly Shepard, he’s civil with Tim, but he HATES Curly

When he comes home from his ski trips with his old friends, he actually looks his age

A woman once assumed he was Pony’s father, and it made him die inside a little

He can’t stand Mother and Fathers Day

He was mad at Steve when he found out he taught Pony how to drive

TWO-BIT:

He and Dally bond by harassing women

He has a box full of things he’s stolen

His slight alcoholism stems from his father

He let’s his sister paint his nails, and he shows them off proudly

He gets his nails painted before rumbles

He watches soap operas with his mother every night

He can play the trumpet

He has never purchased a pack of cigarettes, only stolen

He listens to metal

When he passes Johnny’s house, he has to actively stop himself from walking in and beating Johnny’s parents half to death, especially his father

Its not that he doesn’t want a job, I mean he doesn’t, it’s that he thinks he’d only mess up whenever they had him do

He constantly forgets to brush his teeth

Pop and beer are the only things he drinks, he doesn’t touch water

He religiously wears Mickey Mouse merch, you will never catch him in a plain shirt

Baby Pony and him got along really well, he was kinda like Pony’s goofy cousin

Two-Bit and Darry have been friends since they were little kids

Two has no plans for his future, and it weighs on him

He broke both of his elbows once

His teachers have kinda given up on him, they just treat him like a bother instead of a student

STEVE:

He messes up Pony’s hair every chance he gets

He uses the most hair grease out of everyone

He has had the same comb for 3 years

He constantly smells like oil

The underside of his nails are always black, no matter how much he washes his hands

He and Soda have matching scars from a shared failed attempt to climb a barb wired fence

He is terrified of the police

He and Soda make your mom jokes at each other, despite neither of them having mothers

His voice is scarily deep when he wakes up

He and Two-Bit have an inside joke no one in the gang understands

He, Soda, and Two-Bit all have matching stick and poke tattoos

He hates his father, and by extension the fathers of Johnny and Two-Bit

He and Dally don’t hang out much, but when they do they are absolute menaces

Dally and him steal cars and hub caps together

He is genuinely upset by the size of his nose

JOHNNY:

He’s dyslexic

His handwriting is atrocious

His best subject is math

He and the gang all picked out stickers to put on his crutches

He loves sleeping around his friends

His hands are rough

He can’t stand the smell of beer, unless it’s one of the gang

He and Curly hate each other for literally no reason

Pony has slowly been teaching him to read better

No matter how much grease he puts in his hair, it won’t stay back

He hates going out in public because people always look at him funny

He hates looking at his burn scars

He, Dally, and Ponyboy watch sunsets together

He either sleeps at the Cutis’s house, Two-Bit’s house, Steve’s (very rarely), or Dallas’s place.

He’s not allowed to sleep in the lot anymore

He has tons of freckles, you just can’t see them against his skin

He loves sleeping outside when he wants to

He never wants children, he’s to scared he’ll become his father

His pain tolerance is so high that sometimes he won’t even notice when he gets injured

He likes how defensive Dallas is of him, makes him feel confident

He smokes marijuana with Dally sometimes, he’s super anxious when they do though because he doesn’t want to get arrested

DALLY:

He will not talk about his feelings

The cops forced him to go to therapy, it didn’t fix anything

He is amazing at lying

The police know him by name

He hasn’t told the gang much about the past other than where he came from and that he doesn’t talk to his folks

Darry nicknamed him “Rat”

He actually feels bad when Darry yells at him

He gets sun burns very quickly

He has his own personal stench

He doesn’t want Johnny to end up like him

He cried for 3 hours straight when he found out Johnny was still alive, it is his most embarrassing moment

He chugs drinks insanely fast

He can’t read very well

He needs glasses but he thinks he’d look like a wimp if he had any

Even though he knows he could have an asthma attack from coughing to hard, he still doesn’t carry his inhaler

He was happy when he thought he was going to die

Then he woke up and had an epiphany about life, it didn’t do to much, but now he knows death isn’t the only option

He proudly shows off the burn marks on his arm

He loves pushing Johnny around in his wheelchair

He listens to outlaw music and Frank Sinatra

He loves horror movies

He toned down his bad behavior once he got out of the hospital, he’s still a dick though

That’s it or whatever. I hope you like them, I’m sorry if some of them don’t make sense. I’m just so silly. I apologize for my horrible grammar lol. Feel free to tell me some of your head cannons!! :D

[mystic-writings]

out like a light | steve harrington

PAIRING — steve harrington x fem!reader

SUMMARY — you and steve have been living a happy, simple life in hawkins. the return of an old friend flips everything on its head.

WARNINGS — angst, verbal arguments, cheating, steve and reader are married

WORD COUNT — 2,856

NOTES — loosely inspired by 'out like a light 2' by ricky montgomery

masterlist | navigation

Steve Harrington was all yours. 

It started out as a silly promise, a quiet whisper between lips and sheets in the early days of your relationship. But it was a promise nonetheless, and Steve intended to keep it for as long as you would let him. 

You seemed to have one of those picture perfect relationships; one that everyone envied, even if the path that led you there was anything but. It took time to get to where you were, and a lot of pain. Effort. But it was worth the heartache, the uncertainty. Because you were happy. 

According to the social class guidelines of your high school career, you and Steve even being friends with each other was something nearly unthinkable. But neither of you could care too much about something as stupid as that — your relationship meant too much. You’d been through too much together. 

And, somehow, through the nights spent singing to Queen on the radio and driving along the long abandoned Hawkins roads, you fell in love with Steve Harrington. And he fell in love with you, too. 

Your relationship didn’t go without its trials and tribulations. You weren’t that lucky. 

The first big fight you could remember happened right after your high school graduation. There was no forgetting it; it was the first time you’d ever told him you loved him. 

“Why are you being so ridiculous, Steve?!” You shouted, standing with a heaving chest in his parent’s living room. You’d been shouting at each other for an hour, now. Maybe longer. Steve’s parents weren’t home, so you didn’t mind being so loud. Then again, they never were. “You’re not even listening to me!” 

“I’m not being ridiculous, here! I’m just—” he huffed, carding his fingers through his hair. “You’re going off to college in two months and I’m staying here, I just don’t think it’ll work out.” 

You felt like your lungs were robbed of air. “Don’t say that.” You pleaded, eyes brimming with sudden tears. “You don’t get to decide that. It’s not fair.” 

“You deserve better.” Steve decided. “A lot better than me.” 

“And what makes you think that, Steve? What, because you didn’t get into any colleges?” Your voice was soaked in emotion, and you didn’t have the energy to try to hide it from him. You didn’t want to. “You can try again next year, you know. With Robin. Save your money and just try again.” 

Steve seemed to deflate at your words, but you weren’t done. 

Taking a hesitant step closer, you began to close the gap between you, words trembling on the tip of your tongue. “I love you, Steve Harrington. Nothing is going to change that. I’m all yours. No one else’s. I don’t want to be, baby.” 

“Don’t,” Steve nearly begged. His heart swelled at your words, almost unbearably so, a terrifying reminder of why he was doing this. “I don’t want to hold you back.” 

“From what?” You asked, voice a mere whisper. “What could you possibly hold me back from?”

Steve sighed, his head dropping. He could barely stand to look at you; at the pain he was causing you. Your red rimmed eyes searched for his, and his resolve almost crumbled. The sinister voice in the back of his head reminded him that this was for the best. The calming one told him to hear you out. 

“From a life away from here, from Hawkins.” Steve said, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I’m just— I’ll always be the reminder of this town. Of the things we’ve been through. And I know how much it all hurt you. I don’t want to do that to you.” 

“If there’s one thing you’re not, it’s that, Steve,” you told him, taking another step forward. “If anything, you’re my reminder that there’s still good in this place. You help me forget.” 

A strangled sob slipped from Steve’s lips, and you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. Steve’s head fell into the crook of your neck as one of your hands cupped the back of his head, your lips pressing gentle kisses to his hair. 

“I love you,” he whispered, grabbing your sweater by the fistful. 

You sighed, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “I love you, too.” 

Being high school sweethearts and making it through college was a feat you didn’t think most people could achieve. But you and Steve had been so in love that somehow, someway, you did. The thought that you couldn’t never even crossed your mind. 

All of the friends you made through college all said the same thing — you were made for each other. Soulmates. The perfect couple. 

A perfect picture of love and happiness. 

Eventually, after that first fight, Steve had proved you right. He and Robin attended college together, graduating the year after you did. You never once doubted his ability to do what he wanted in life. 

You built a life for yourselves together. Steve began working for his dad, with a higher title than he could’ve ever gotten without a degree. You put your knowledge to use, working with the freshmen at Hawkins High. Even if Steve had wanted a life for you outside of the town, you didn’t mind staying. You’d go anywhere if it meant you were with Steve. 

He proposed Christmas after his college graduation. You got married two springs later, and moved into a brand-new, red brick house with four bedrooms — enough room to start a family. 

It was the simplest of lives, but you relished every single day of it. If it meant that there were no more monsters crawling out from the depths of hell to try and kill you, you would enjoy every single day. 

But it seemed that Steve didn’t want the life you did anymore. 

You should’ve seen the signs earlier. After being married for half a decade, and together for almost twice that time, you should’ve seen it when Steve first began pulling away from you. 

Nights spent late at the office, leaving you to eat dinner alone. Business trip after business trip, where Steve barely made the effort to call before bed. The declining amount of date nights, both out and in the comfort of your home. Steve’s lack of enthusiasm to hear about your day, or to just spend time with you in general. The way that every conversation began with snipping remarks that eventually turned into meaningless shouting matches. 

It should’ve been no surprise when you found the root of it all. 

Nancy Wheeler moving back to Hawkins was a surprise. Though, she was by no means Nancy Wheeler anymore. She’d been Nancy Byers for just under four years when she and Jonathan came back to their hometown. 

You were eager to catch up with her when she moved back to town. She and Jonathan had been living in Boston ever since they graduated college — her degree coming from Emerson, and his from Quincy, a community college from what you’d heard. With them, they brought a one-year old boy, with eyes like his mother’s and a quiet demeanor like his father. Benji Byers, short for Benjamin. 

The couple seemed content to move back for their son’s sake, to live out the rest of their life in the quiet town, now no longer plagued by the horrors you’d experienced in your teenage years. You were just glad you had someone familiar to talk to again; Robin stayed in Chicago after college, and only really visited for the holidays, wherein she’d crash in your spare bedroom for a month with her girlfriend, Jess. You loved the company.

You spent a lot of spare time with Nancy, Jonathan, and Benji. They’d moved back to town around the time of year where Steve was away more often than he was home, and you couldn’t get enough of Benji. 

“Why don’t you and Steve don’t have kids yet?” Nancy had asked one day as you sat in her living room, a cooing Benji in your lap. You knew she had meant well, but the stutter in your heart and the hesitation before your response told her everything she needed to know. 

“We’re just not ready yet.” You said with a tight lipped smile. “Steve’s just so busy right now, and I think we’re still enjoying ourselves for now.” 

You just hoped your face didn’t show it as you relived the countless arguments over having kids that seemed to happen between you and Steve. Shouts of ‘I’m not ready’, always to be countered with your rebuttals of how much of a lie Steve’s words were. There was nothing you were more ready for than having a child. 

But it seemed Steve had his eye on something else. 

The Byers family moved back to Hawkins, and in less than a year, your marriage was nothing but a pile of rubble and shattered glass. 

The shuffling of feet and a clatter somewhere in the house roused you from your uncomfortable sleep. 

“Steve?” You mumbled from your place on the couch, voice raspy. 

An open book lay face down on your thigh, darkness drenching the space around you as your eyes adjusted. The last you remembered was flipping the page on your book, the clock reading quarter-past midnight, as you waited for Steve to get home safe. 

The shuffling stopped abruptly, and you stretched out your stiff limbs before closing the book and making your way to the kitchen, where light was spilling from the archway. Bleary-eyed, you glanced at the clock, almost unsurprised to find it reading twenty minutes to four. 

“Where were you?” You asked, finding Steve’s back to yours as he stood at the sink, hands gripping the counter. A bottle of whiskey and a half-full glass sat on the counter next to him. 

“Nowhere,” Steve said, knuckles turning white, head hanging low. “I, uh— I went to the bar with some of the guys, that’s all. Go to bed, I’ll be up in a minute.”

You sighed, shuffling into the room. “Steve,” you whispered. “Come with me. Please.”

Steve’s shoulders tensed beneath his crumpled button down, and it was now that you noticed the state he was in. Most of his outfit had been wrinkled, the sleeves haphazardly rolled halfway up his forearms. His hair was a mess, almost as though the gel he’d put in it that morning was never there in the first place. And the closer you looked, the easier you could see it. 

His hair was wet. 

You had known for a fact that it wasn’t going to rain tonight, mostly because you were planning to cook a barbeque dinner for yourself and Steve. 

The pieces seemed to click into place in an instant, and your blood ran cold. The thought of it made your stomach turn, your heart shattering in your chest, shards ripping and tearing at the skin of your soul. 

“Steve, where were you,” your tone was low, soaked in emotion. 

In an instant, Steve was turning to face you, anger twisting his face. “Jesus, I already told you! I was at the damn bar, Y/n!” 

You stepped back at Steve’s flailing limbs, horrified to find that the front of him looked no better than the back. 

The tie he’d put on that morning was no longer around his neck — in fact, it was missing altogether. The top five buttons on his shirt were undone, exposing the white tank top he wore underneath it. It also exposed the angry red marks that littered his chest and neck, forcing a strangled, quiet gasp from your throat like the last breath of air before you drowned beneath the weight of it all. 

“Who is she?” 

“What?” Steve hissed, following your eyes to his chest. His shoulders sagged, fingers fumbling to button his shirt, as if hiding the evidence of his infidelity would make you forget about it. “Y/n it’s not— don’t—” 

“Who is she?” You said, voice dripping with anger and pain. You could barely see your husband through the wall of tears building in your eyes, but you refused to take your eyes away from him. You would not break. 

Steve gnawed on his lip, heart racing. He knew he couldn’t lie to you, to his wife. 

“Nancy.” He spoke barely above a whisper, the name coming off his tongue like a bullet, aimed at your already shattered heart. 

The staggered breath that came from you made Steve’s chest fill with guilt. When he looked up, he found you staring at him, eyes tearful and cheeks stained with the ones that had already fallen. 

And yet, the response you gave was one he wasn’t expecting. 

“She’s a mother, Steve. How could you?” The more you thought about the entire situation, the more your sadness turned to rage. “She has a child! What did you think was going to happen, hmm?! You’d break up two marriages and ruin that poor boy’s life because— because, what, you got bored of me? That you’d raise someone else’s son because you couldn’t stand to think of having one with me?” 

As soon as the words slipped past your lips, it seemed the brief fire within you went with them. Your stomach turned at the thought, hands carding through your hair. “You… She has a son… Oh, God.” 

“Y/n—” Steve rushed forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

You pushed your husband’s arm away from you, taking several steps back. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me, Steve. I can’t believe you.” 

Turning on your heel, you rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs, Steve shouting your name as he followed after you. 

“Y/n, come on, let’s just talk about this,” 

You spun around in your bedroom doorway, chest heaving. “You want to talk about this?” You scoffed. “Why don’t we talk about the fact that every time I’ve brought up kids you said you didn’t want any yet! That you weren’t ready! Let’s talk about how I’ve spent the past four months— longer than that, even— trying to find a way to fix our marriage while you screwed your high school ex-girlfriend behind my back! About how you ruined two marriages because you couldn’t stand living a normal life!” 

“That’s not true!” Steve shouted back, following as you moved to grab a suitcase from the closet. “You know that isn’t true, Y/n!” 

“Yeah, right, it’s not true.” You admitted, stopping between where the suitcase sat open, empty on the bed, and where the dresser sat. “You wanted that life. The white, picket fence, Church on Sundays life. You just didn’t want it with me.” 

Steve stood in your bedroom — the room you shared, as husband and wife — dumbfounded and heartbroken at the sight of you. He had been the one to cause this hurt, and for what? To relive his teen years? To go back to the time that seemed to be the highlight of Steve’s life? 

His mind started back up again when he noticed the clothes you were packing into the suitcase. They were his. 

“What— Honey, what are you doing?” 

“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, shoving everything he owned into one of his suitcases. “And if you really want to know, I’m packing. Because if you really love Nancy that much, you can go sleep on her couch. I’m not sharing my bed or this house with a cheating asshole.” 

Steve’s chest deflated, struggling to catch another breath. “What?”

“You heard me. You made the choice to sleep with another woman. A married woman. Now deal with the consequences.” The zipping of the suitcase on the bed punctuated your words, and Steve watched, practically glued to the floor as you hauled it out of the room and into the hallway. 

It wasn’t until it thumped heavily down the stairs that Steve jumped, legs finally kicking back into gear. 

Your footsteps followed the tumbling suitcase. Steve watched from the top of the steps as you grabbed it, and he followed you as you moved to the front door, wrenching it open. 

“Y/n, Y/n, wait—” 

Steve was unable to stop you as you tossed it out onto the paved walkway, the suitcase skidding along the concrete as you turned to look back at him. 

“Get the hell out of my house.” 

Upon catching the look in your eye, the fury mixed with unimaginable despair, Steve knew there was nothing to be done to salvage your relationship. As he passed you by, Steve stopped at the threshold and whispered, “I’m sorry,” 

You didn’t acknowledge him as he walked out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him. 

And with the click of the lock latching, and the metal door cooling your skin as you pressed your forehead against it, you let the dam break. Sobs wracked your body, shaking your bones as you slid to the floor, curling up against the front door. 

Steve Harrington had once promised that he was all yours. But promises get broken, and people, more often than not, turn out to be liars.

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

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[superblysubpar]

dad!steve harrington x mom!fem!reader

a How Sweet It Is story

summary: Your husband and you have a Christmas Eve night to yourselves while the six little nuggets are asleep in their beds. | 18+ / NSFW

warnings: | the kids are mentioned in this as well are dad/mom things, but def not a part of this - just a night for you and your hot husband okay? | SMUT (dry humping, making out, dirty talk, fingering - clit action, steve cums in his plaid pajama pants)

1324 words

the prompts: [single lip] - a sucking or nibbling of one of the partner's lips [GRIND] - one muse teasingly grinds against the other

Winter, 1999:

“Steve,” you laughed, back arching as the back of your thighs hit the couch he was guiding you towards, “Steve, we should go to bed. They’re gonna be up in like three hours.”

Your husband’s teeth scraped against your racing pulse, tongue licking before he mumbled into sweat kissed skin. “Bed is for losers.”

His mouth kept its assault up, lips skimming higher, chasing your mouth as you shook your head from side to side. “Careful,” Steve squeezed at your hips, and you spoke into his cheek as he sucked at the curve of your jaw. “Last time you said something was for losers-oof!”

Back against the couch as he laid between your legs, landing softly but letting his weight fall against you as you both laughed. A little giddy off of a few hours of absolute silence from your zonked out monsters, a little bit of wine, and a lot of chocolate chip cookies. The stockings hung, presents wrapped, the tree glittering in the corner, the living room dark save for the warm glow it gave off. 

“You were saying?” Steve’s nose nuzzled into your neck, breath warm and leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“Mm,” your eyelashes fluttered as he found the spot that made your hands jump to his shoulders, mouth kissing it sweetly as you stuttered out, “Melt down. Glasses. Losers.”

Steve’s tongue flicked at your skin, dirty and teasing making your stomach burn, causing your hips to roll against him searching for friction. 

“Oh, speaking of,” he reached over your head and you nipped at his arm, fingers scraping down his abdomen so he twitched away from the tickling. Face returning into your field of vision with glasses falling down the slope of his nose. His palms pressed to the cushion on either side of your head as he stared down at you. Cinnamon and emerald and gold framed by the new wire set he got, a little bit of stubble dotting his jaw and above the curve of his lip that you ached to feel scrape along your skin again. That is, until he spoke again, voice going a little higher and scratchy, face contorting into a character. 

“All the better to see you with my dear.”

You groaned, swatting at his chest as he smiled, white teeth on full display, cheek pushing up the two moles that dotted it. 

“Ew, gross! Don’t do that voice.”

Steve laughed, quiet, but deep from his chest, chain falling loose from his pale blue shirt as he propped up again, the new angle causing his hard length to nudge at your cunt through the layers. His eyes sparkled, eyebrows going up as your lips parted at the feeling. 

“You don’t like that one?” He pouted, bottom lip jutted out, hovering over you and rolling his hips with a little more pressure to get your eyes to flutter, “The babies love that one. Luke always turns the page back and Annie smacks my nose till I do it again.”

Thinking about him reading to your children was not helping your act of pretending he wasn’t slick - you knew what he was doing, chain bumping your chin as he leaned closer, red wine and chocolate on his lips just out of reach for you to taste. 

“Oh,” breathless, fingers digging into the couch so you wouldn’t grab him, “Well with that rave review, please, Steve, talk dirty to me in your big, bad, wolf voice.”

Steve let his lips brush against yours, holding your top one between his as you parted for him, squirming beneath his body. He tapped his nose to the end of yours, rolling his lower half slowly, dragging his dick up and down you as he swallowed. 

“Want me to talk dirty, baby? You sure? Last time we ended up with twins.”

“You,” your teeth scraped against your bottom lip as he thrust a little, tip nudging at your clit, his hand grabbing onto your waist as your stomach flipped. “Y-you always talk dirty.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s hand roamed down your thigh, dragging his nails across the skin under the sleep shorts, hitching it higher on his hip so he could drag himself over you harder. “What’s your favorite?”

He kissed over the corner of your mouth, tongue swiping over your bottom lip as your back arched and his fingers dug into the plush skin of your ass, pushing under the hem of the shorts higher. Steve kissed you, one tiny chaste peck, voice low, a gravel and rasp behind the murmur, “When I tell you, you taste so sweet?”

The whine that leaves you just encouraged him, but he teases, drawing away only to push against you harder in a way that made your skin hot, toes curling into the couch. Steve’s mouth pants against your cheek, both of your hips grinding in a shared rhythm, the tip of his cock pushed at your clit in the same spot, over and over, his cheeks turning pink as your neck extended, his name leaving you in a gasp.

He kissed your cheek, lips dragging to your jaw, mouthing at you hungrily. “No? Is it when I tell you to be patient? That you can’t,” he thrusts harder and your teeth bit hard on your lip to suppress the moan that fights to come out when he exhaled, “Cum yet?”

His lips pulled at your bottom lip, freeing it so he can bite, teeth scraping before he sucked, moaning into you. Releasing you with a pop as you both fought for deeper breaths. His hand pushed at the band of your shorts as yours curled up the soft cotton of his shirt and he swallowed, babbling,  “Is it honey? Baby? Just your name? You like it when I say your name? Tell you what you do to me?”

Steve drags himself over you faster, your hips rolling hard, and your entire body lit up, stomach burning, ready for him to just let you have it. Your clit was throbbing as he laughed, dark, lips parting easily, tongue swiping over yours filthy as he grunted. “Fuck, look at you, angel. You’re gonna cum from just this aren’t you?”

“Ye-yes,” your hands grabbed at his jaw, bringing him into you, needing to taste him as the heat started to swallow you whole. 

He cursed into your mouth, fingers sliding under the soaked cotton between you two until he was pushing circles into your nerves, your body a taut band as his mouth parted over yours, “Make a mess all over me, yeah? Tell me how much you want it.”

You gasped out his name, babbling another breathless yes, begging for more even as your thighs started to shake around his hand, and Steve nodded into your kiss, “That’s my girl, take what y-you want.” His hips and fingers matching the frantic way his mouth moved over yours.  

You were asking him for harder, more, yes until he was swearing into your lips and your back was arching off of the couch. His fingers were faltering, messy circles against your slick and his hips lost their rhythm, as you felt him twitch against you, he gasped out your name and a desperate please.  

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as the orgasm crashed over your body, fingers tingling and head feeling dizzy as he kissed you deeply. Your hands wrapped up and grabbed at the back of his head, fingers lazily moving through the soft brown waves. He held you closer, palms against your spine as he stayed between your legs, your kissing growing slower, noses pressed to cheeks, mouths drawing in and out for more until you couldn’t breathe anymore. 

It’s quiet aside from heavy panting when you part, bodies soaked in sweat and buzzing. Steve’s glasses askew on his face has you laughing, reaching up to fix them and he beamed, forehead knocking against yours. 

“It was the voice, wasn’t it?”

[luvrxbunny]

late night talking

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader 

Prompt: Phone Sex

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mutual masturbation  (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.5k

A/N: GUYS IM SORRY I'VE BEEN LATE I SWEAR IM TRYING (not proofread *sobbing*)

It’s around 1 AM when Eddie stumbles in, he’s high and just a teensy bit drunk. He has a stupid smile on his face because he’s expecting to see you nice and cozy in his bed. He walks into his room and is sobered by your absence, he speed walks quietly down the hall, making a beeline for the phone hanging off the wall. He’s thinking to himself as he puts your number in, trying to figure out why you aren’t here.

Was she taken? I bet it was Harrington, that motherfucker always wanted her. Dude can’t handle the fact she chose me.

Eddie has a prideful smile on his face as your phone rings. You pick up almost immediately. “Eddie? Are you okay?” His whole body relaxes at the sound of your voice, but… if you’re okay- seeming very un-stolen by Steve Harrington, then why weren’t you here? Sadness creeps into his chest. “Where are you?” He asks, voice completely deflated. He hears some shuffling before you answer him.

“I’m at my house, Eddie. Are you okay?” You ask him again with more force this time and he starts nodding before realizing you can’t see him. “Yeah. I’m okay… Why aren’t you here?” He sounds like he could cry- and he totally could. He gets more emotional when he drinks, and pairing that with the sensitivity he gets when he’s high you’re left with a crossfaded bundle of need and intimacy. 

You’d told Eddie that you wouldn’t be sleeping over at his place today, you guys’ midterms were starting tomorrow and you needed a good night’s sleep to not stress over them while testing. It’s not that you don’t sleep well with Eddie, it’s just that you guys can’t help but do a little more than sleep whenever you’re together. 

“Baby…” You start slowly, using that tone that Eddie loves. You’re talking to him like you’re breaking the news to a child that Santa isn’t real, full of pity, sadness, and love. It makes him all tingly inside. “I told you that I wouldn’t be there tonight.” He gasps softly into the receiver as the memory pops back into his head. “Remember..? I told you we have testing tomorrow and we both need to sleep. What are you even doing up this late? Did you just get home?!”

His spine straightens as your voice picks up, realizing that yes, he did just get home. Although he never confirms or denies, his silence is your answer. He hears you sigh into the phone and he slumps forward, disappointed in himself for not listening to you but then he realizes something. “Well, what are you doing up? You answered pretty fast, darling.” It’s your turn to go silent now. 

As previously mentioned, you and Eddie both have impressively high libidos, so every night you guys would be doing something, anything to get the other off. You stayed away from Eddie’s tonight so you could get some sleep instead of doing that. Unfortunately, it’s seemed to make its way into your routine so you’ve been fighting the urge for hours, unable to sleep a wink because of the incessant, hot, buzzing between your legs. Your body was begging for him, you’d tried to get yourself off for about 5 minutes before giving up. It just wasn’t as intense as when it’s Eddie’s hands on you, your body just wouldn't respond to you the same way. So you’ve been staring at your ceiling, praying for sleep to take you, and then Eddie called.

“Um…” He smiles, holding back a laugh as you try and figure out your answer. “I just miss you.” The message is sweet and heart-warming but you dropped your voice to that whisper you get when you need him. When he’s just practicing some chords and you don’t know how to ask him to take care of you. When you work your way over and tell him you ‘need his help’... you’re using that voice and he’s already getting hard. 

“Yeah? You miss me, baby?” His head looks both ways down the hallway as his hand comes to the front of his jeans, massaging his rapidly growing cock. “What do you mean? What do you miss, honey?” You’re squirming in bed, in Eddie’s t-shirt, and very ready for where this conversation is headed. Your hand has already made its way between your legs, rubbing yourself gently through your underwear as Eddie questions you. 

“I miss everything about you, Eddie.” You stick your hand into your panties, gathering some wetness to spread over your clit before pulling your hand out and rubbing yourself over your underwear. Eddie’s on the same wavelength as you, his hand now fully inside his boxers, teasing his leaking tip. He can hear your breathing quiver and his eyes roll back into his head. The fact that even though you’re both so far apart, you’re perfectly in sync. “Tell me about it, baby.” 

You whimper into his ear. “Eddie… Are you touching yourself?” His knees almost give out and he has to turn around so he can lean against the wall. His hand wraps around his cock and pulls up slowly as his eyes close, picturing you. “Yes.” You’re so silent that he thinks he answered wrong somehow and his hand stops. He’s waiting, listening- maybe you fell asleep. Then he hears it, the subtle whine in your breath and a slick noise behind the static of the phone. 

His hand moves again, stiffly in order to keep the phone perfectly placed on his ear to hear your noises. “Fuck, are- Are you touching yourself, love?” You moan his name into the receiver and slide your hand back into your pants, stuffing two fingers into your soaking pussy and whining to Eddie about how good it feels. You lay back onto your pillows, pulling the phone with you, and imagine that Eddie’s above you, that it’s his fingers stretching you out and pressing into your G-Spot. As if he can read your mind, Eddie prompts you. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking, baby. You’re real quiet over there, give me something to work with, love” You giggle lightly at his request and he groans in your ear, his hand squeezing around his cock as it pulses at the sound. “What? The thought of me isn’t enough?” He doubles his pace and shakes his head at no one. “Not when I’ve had the real thing f- for so long.” His words come out as a raspy whine, almost a sob as he continues. “How could you take her away from me?” You’re aroused yet confused at his words, you listen to him moan a bit before questioning him. “What- Eddie, who-” He cuts you off with a hushed sob. “Your pussy- need her so bad.” Your teeth tear into your bottom lip as moans try to fight their way out of your mouth. 

Eddie’s moaning about all the things he’s going to do to you and you can see them all perfectly, you can hear the truth in his voice, in everything he says. He’s whispering into the phone, making the whole ordeal even hotter. You had never stopped to actually think about why though, you pictured him in his bed, hand down his pants and legs spread for you. You’ve caught him like that before and the image plagues you constantly- but Eddie doesn’t have a phone in his room… 

Your pussy clenches onto your fingers as the image in your head shifts. Your head is now depicting Eddie as he truly is, back against the wall, phone in one hand and his other is shoved down his pants, moving wildly under the denim. You can’t hold in the moan that arises at the realization. “Eddie- Fuck, baby are you in your hallway?” He groans out a whimper into the phone and his cock begins to throb, his brain clouding over with thoughts of you, everything you guys have done, everything he wants to do, and everything you’d let him do. “Needed you.” That’s all he can get out before he’s giving you his little hushed sounds. You can feel yourself winding up, and the fire in your stomach begins to spread throughout your body. You’re gushing around your fingers as you listen to Eddie. You can tell he’s getting close, right on the edge and you want nothing more than to push him over.

“M’ gonna cum, Eddie. I-” You’re cut off by your whines as your hand leaves the receiver, using it to rub your clit, desperately working yourself closer to the edge. “Tried earlier but- I don’t feel like y-yo-” Your eyes roll back, your thighs shake and you try your best to hold all your sounds in but little whimpers make their way through the phone as your orgasm racks through you. You hear Eddie moan- probably louder than he should and a loud commotion. Your eyes are shut as you come down and you can hear Eddie moaning- then cursing- in the distance. 

You pry your eyes open and grab the phone again. “Eds?” He grunts out a few more curses and some chuckles before answering. “H-hey, sweetheart. I’m okay I-” He laughs at himself again, bringing a smile to your face with the sound. “I- My knees gave out. I fell” He sounds adorably embarrassed as you laugh at him He giggles along timidly and you assure him that it’s cute until you both fall asleep. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[userchai]

Hey Batty, can we get Steve teaching Eddie how to eat reader out? maybe he makes Eddie lay down right next to him so he can see the way Steve runs his tongue against reader!

((also, loving all the content you’ve been uploading lately, you’re my favorite writer!))

Pass The Eggnog

Steddie x Fem!Reader Smut

wordcount: 2.2K

thank you so much for this request nonny, I had so much fun writing this! feedback is always welcome! 18+ only!

warnings- cunnilingus, mlm, threesome, drunkenness, spit, cum, degradation, mfm, Steve x Eddie. Dom steve. Steve slaps Eddie once. please come to me with anything I may have missed!!

You weren’t one for eggnog, but how could you pass it up when Eddie was standing next to you, a devilish grin overtaking his handsome face, as he held a Christmas mug with cute gingerbread men towards you. “Cmon sugar, this is good eggnog.” He said, laughing as you wrinkled your nose at him and rolled your eyes. “I know why it’s ’good’ Eddie you’ve spiked it.” You say, leaning back onto Steve as he wraps his toned arms around your middle, pulling you close. “Exactly, what’s a Christmas party without spiked eggnog anyway? So Sorry Stevie, but your parties aren’t quite what they once were.” Steve huffs behind you, his ego taking a hit as he acts nonchalant at the comment. “Whatever Munson, give me another one of those, if I’m going to make it through the night with you I need to be drunk.” Eddie smiles and grabs another glass of his ‘specialty’ as he liked to call it, walking over to Steve and bowing down to him while holding the glass high above his head. “Oh King Steve, please accept this lowly peasants’ offering.” Steve snatched it out of his hands, downing it quickly as Eddie laughed wildly, standing back up to lean back against the kitchen counter.

Most of the people that had bothered to show up to the party had left hours ago, leaving you with Steve and Eddie. Steve had dropped Dustin off at his house before coming back home, the three of you standing in the kitchen drinking more and more as the hours passed. Your mind felt fuzzy as you listened to another argument that Eddie and Steve were engaged in, you didn’t know what it was about, having zoned out at the start of it. You only snapped back to reality when Steve nudged you, looking at you expectantly with his honey brown eyes. “What?” You say, glancing between the both of them, noticing a blush breaking out across Eddie’s cheeks.

“Seems like Eds has a crush on you baby.” Steve whispers against your ear, leaning his chin down until it touches your shoulder, you glance back at Eddie, your brain swimming with thoughts that you couldn’t quite decipher because of the alcohol coursing its way through your body. “Y-you do?” You say timidly, as Eddie nods shyly, twirling a piece of his curls between his pointer finger and thumb before chewing on the end nervously. You stand in the middle of the Harrington’s kitchen confused, and slightly in shock, how had they even gotten on the subject of Eddie liking you? More importantly, how was Steve not blowing a fuse right now at the idea of his best friend liking you? You turn around and look at Steve, moving some of his hair away from his eyes from where it had fallen down from its gelled up perfection. “What do you think about that baby?” You ask, nervously chewing your lip as you feel chills run through your body, you could feel Eddie staring at you from where he stood behind you. Your breath was caught in your throat as a dark look passed over Steve’s features.

You slowly back up as Steve advances towards you and Eddie, he walks you back until you’re pressed up against the kitchen counter. Your bodies smashed up against each other as he leans down close to your face, your noses bumping against each other. You hold your breath In anticipation of what he could possibly say about this whole situation, your question was quickly answered as Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand, bringing it towards you, placing it behind you against the swell of your ass. Your eyes widen as you look up at him. “I think this is all I’ve wanted for a long time, baby. We’ve talked about this before… Eddie and I.” Steve whispers looking over at the older man, who couldn’t stop shuffling around from his nerves, his hand trembling against your body as Steve gripped it, not allowing him to move.

You hold completely still as Steve leans down towards your ear again, smirking as he glances at Eddie, “The two of you have about ten seconds to get in my room, and strip your clothes off or you’ll suffer the consequences. Do you want this princess?” He asks, even in situations where he was full of nothing but pure lust he always made sure you were comfortable with what was going on. You nod, squeezing your legs together as Eddie moves his hand down lower, squeezing your flesh, his rings pressing harshly against you. “Y-yes Sir, I want this, want you and Eddie.” You whimper out.

———————————————————————

You couldn’t fully grasp what was going on, other than hands touching you absolutely everywhere, Eddie’s rings leaving marks on your skin from how hard he was gripping onto you. Your bodies pressed against each other as you made out slowly, the way he kissed was different from Steve, but in the best ways. His lips were soft, the stubble around his top lip was scratching against you, tickling you and causing a delicious friction you couldn’t get enough of. Steve was standing at the foot of his bed, watching you and Eddie helplessly grinding against each other, his own hard on was straining against his sweats, creating a wet patch in the fabric, making it stick to his body uncomfortably. He would think of himself in a minute, for now he was enjoying the show. Sweet little virgin Eddie, pussy drunk already, and all you were doing was kissing him.

“Look at the both of you, pathetic little sluts aren’t you?” Steve all but growls out as he makes his way onto the bed next to you, reaching down to make you stop kissing Eddie. You whine at the loss of his lips against yours, but before you can protest even further Steve’s telling you to open your mouth. You throb at his words, knowing what was coming as you tilt your chin up to him, sticking your tongue out as far as you can. He spits directly onto it before two of his fingers are fucking into the back of your throat. “See that Eds? She’s a good little pet, does anything I ask of her. If you’re my good boy I’ll let you have her however you want.” Steve says, holding back a laugh at Eddie’s lust blown eyes, his lips raw from kissing, curls wild and tangled from where your hands were gripping them. He nods dumbly and watches as you drool and gag around Steve’s long fingers. Steve chuckles as he slaps Eddie’s face with the hand that isn’t in your mouth, gripping it between his fingers and making Eddie meet his gaze. “Wanna learn how to eat her pretty pussy? I know you do, it’s so good baby, let me show you.” He says, grabbing you and pushing you off of Eddie, pinning your body down as he works your skirt down your legs quickly. Eddie sits up quickly, his chest heaving from how hard he was breathing. He watches as you and Steve strip his clothes off, yours having been partially taken off before Steve came into the bedroom. You turn to meet his gaze, his brown eyes now black, you smile at him and bite your lip as Steve spreads your legs, motioning for Eddie to come closer. The cold air against your pussy heightens your senses, you were soaked, it was all over the inside of your thighs, running down onto the bed underneath you, ruining the sheets. You sit up on your elbows and watch as Eddie and Steve lay on their stomach’s in front of you.

“I’ll go first, so you can see exactly how she likes it, and then I’m gonna hold your head against her until you’re absolutely soaked in her cum. Is that what you want, pretty boy?” Steve asks, Eddie nodding pathetically next to him, holding onto one of your legs gently and turning his eyes upon you, “You’re so pretty.” He whispers out, your heart beating harder at his sweet words, you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol making him feel this way towards you, but you didn’t care right now, you just wanted both of them to ruin you. You hold your breath as Steve blows warm air against the inside of your thighs, his lips grazing against you close enough to where you need him but not letting you get what you really want. You tremble as he gently runs his fingers through your slit, running them up to the top of your pussy, spreading the lips apart before he’s moaning, smiling up at you. “There’s that pretty little clit, look how hard it is, is that all because of Eddie baby?” You moan out, clenching around nothing as you nod, your mind already floating through space as you feel him spit right against your clit before he’s wrapping his soft lips around you, sucking like it’s the last thing he would ever do.

Your loud moans echo around the room, followed by Steve pulling back to whisper praises every few seconds, edging you as he licks from your hole up to your clit over and over again. Eddie’s eyes are locked onto Steve’s mouth against you, his cock aching he was sure he could cum just from watching this. He’s rutting against the bed softly, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Steve pulls back, a string of his spit connecting from his lips to your pussy, Eddie leaning over and sucking it off of his bottom lip, moaning as Steve kisses him. Their tongues dance against each other as you watch. “Fuck, Eddie, Steve, oh my god.” You breathe out, feeling close to tears at the loss of Steve’s mouth against you. “I think she needs you now, cmon.” Steve mumbles against Eddie, scooting over and pushing Eddie’s face towards you, smiling as Eddie whines at the harsh grip Steve has on his hair. Eddie’s tongue lolls out of his mouth, as you push your hips down toward him and attempt to feel anything, he wraps his inked arms around your legs, pulling you down and timidly licking a fat stripe up to your clit. You were so worked up at this point it hurt and all you could think about was cumming on Eddie’s face.

———————————————————————-

Eddie lapped against your pussy like a starved man. His long tongue pushing inside of you reaching places Steve hadn’t been able to get to with his own tongue. “Fuck me Eddie please!” You cry out, your legs shaking as he pushes them farther apart, exposing you to him, allowing him access to devour you however he pleased. “Steve m-must be a good teacher.” You whisper out laughing slightly, Steve smiles against your neck from his position next to you, kissing you gently on your soft spot. “Maybe baby, but I think Eddie was just that hungry for you, he’s never even fucked a pussy before and he already has you about to cum.” He said, laughing darkly. Eddie groans from his position as you and Steve talk about him like he’s not even there. You let out a particularly loud moan when Steve attaches his mouth to one of your nipples, your back arching up, “Can’t anymore, gonna cum, gonna cum, fuck I’m cumming.” You gasp out, Eddie pulls away in shock as your orgasm overtakes you, you’re on another planet as you soak his mouth, he sticks his tongue out trying to catch every last drop as he moans obscenely.

Your whole body trembles as you reach for the both of them, silently asking for them to kiss you, Eddie crawls up next to you and takes turns kissing you, smiling as he watches you kiss Steve softly. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever done.” He says, leaning over to kiss Steve when he pulls away from you. Steve smiles right back at him as they pull away from each other. “Who said we’re done, Big Boy?” He says, taunting Eddie with the nickname that he gave to Steve. A smile creeps its way onto your face as you lean back against the headboard, “Go on then boys, put on a show for me.” You say, Steve raises his eyebrows at your boldness shaking his head a little before he’s kissing your cheek gently, whispering how much he loves you into your ear. You gently rub his arm before pushing him towards Eddie, you knew they had wanted each other for a long time, and getting to watch this play out had to be the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Steve goes to grab Eddie, but before he can Eddie is leaning up towards you, kissing you softly before whispering a thank you, allowing Steve to pull him away, their bodies tangling together as they kiss. The roles have suddenly reversed and now it’s you telling them how they’re your good boys, telling them how slutty they are and laughing at the whines that escape their mouths. Their hands exploring places they never thought they would be able to as they float away in a peaceful bliss of each other. Smiling over at you every now and then and blowing you kisses.

Eddie was wrong, you thought. Steve still knew how to throw a hell of a party, he just needed a little spiked eggnog.

tag list 🏷️

@slutty-thevampireslayer @justsheerfilth1 @girlfuckthatwhore @lithium80sblog

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @steddiemas Day 1: Deck the Halls read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve’s annoyed.

More than annoyed, really.

He’s supposed to be at the Munson’s, sitting between Wayne and Eddie, watching the Hoosiers play. Well, trying to watch the game, at least. Eddie has a habit of dozing off before the first quarter ends, head thunking against Steve’s shoulder so he can’t move for the rest of the game.

But no.

His mom just had to call and demand he set up their stupid Christmas tree before she and his dad get home tonight because the annual Harrington Holiday House party is this weekend, and she doesn’t have time to do it herself. Honestly, he’s surprised she’s trusting him enough to decorate the thing. He can count on one hand how many times he was allowed to hang an ornament on the statement piece in their living room.

He can’t even celebrate the decorating victory, though, because he’s still trying to assemble the goddamn thing. Nine-foot trees really aren’t meant to be set up by one person. At least, that’s what Steve’s learning as he tries to balance the next segment of the tree over his shoulder as he climbs up the ladder.

Focused on not falling, Steve doesn’t hear the front door open or the stomps of boots coming into the room. It isn’t until Eddie tuts does Steve startles, nearly toppling over.

“Woah, there big boy,” Eddie teases, reaching out to steady the ladder. “Don’t fall.”

“Don’t scare me then,” Steve snaps. It takes a moment, but he manages to get the next piece into the slot before carefully climbing down the ladder.

“Christ, someone’s feisty today,” Eddie says, hands up in surrender. “I guess it’s a good thing you bailed on me and Wayne to uh…” He glances at the half-assembled tree in the middle of the room. “What are you doing exactly?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Building a stupid Christmas tree.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” Eddie asks, shaking his head. “You can’t build trees. You grow trees.”

Steve snorts. “It’s an artificial tree, Eds. My mom called as I was headed out to your place. Said I needed to get the stupid thing up and fluffed before she got home tonight because she needs a full three days to decorate the damn thing for the annual Harrington Holiday House party.”

“This thing is blasphemous!” Eddie says, circling it like a predator stalking its prey. “I thought rich people love Christmas trees. Don’t you like custom order the biggest one to show off your wealth?”

“Uh, no? My mom says real trees make too much of a mess.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Eddie says, abandoning the tree as he stalks towards Steve. “You mean to tell me you’ve never had a real tree before? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“You’re being weird,” Steve says, shaking Eddie’s hands off his shoulder.

“I am not being weird. You’re being weird. You’ve never had a Christmas tree! Do you even know what they smell like? Steve, you haven’t lived until you’ve smelt a freshly cut down Christmas tree!”

“Jesus, I didn’t know you were so passionate about this,” Steve snorts.

“You think this is bad. Wait until I tell Wayne. He’s going to flip out!”

“Wayne has never flipped out in his life.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a first for everything.” Eddie crosses his arms and then immediately uncrosses them, clapping his hands instead. “That’s it. You’re coming with us this year. Don’t make plans for next Friday! I’m stealing your Christmas tree virginity.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Steve groans, wrinkling his nose. “But fine, I’ll go with you. If you help me with this thing.”

“I don’t think that’s a fair trade-off, Stevie.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really give a shit,” Steve says, bending down for the next segment of the tree. “Now grab an end.”

Steve yelps when he feels a firm hand squeeze his ass. All it takes is one deathly glare over his shoulder for Eddie to stop cackling and get serious.

🎄 🎄 🎄

“I’m going to sue your family,” Eddie whines, collapsing on the couch a few hours later.

“Don’t be a baby,” Steve scolds before dashing off into the living room to grab a couple of beers.

“Excuse me! That thing attacked me! Multiple times! Look at the evidence,” Eddie shouts, yanking up the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt to examine a dozen or so scratch marks up and down his forearms. “And don’t even get me started on my hands! How am I supposed to play guitar, Steven!”

“I told you to wear gloves,” Steve shrugs, returning to the room. He passes Eddie the cold can of beer before sinking into the couch beside him.

“I shouldn’t need gloves because you shouldn’t need to fluff a tree! They already come fluffed because they’re not rotting away in a box all year.”

“You poor thing,” Steve playfully tuts. “Guess I can’t hold your hand now since they’re so beaten up.”

“I never said that,” Eddie squawks as he yanks Steve’s hand into his own.

They sit in silence after that. Nursing their beers as the Christmas tree stands in its makeshift glory in front of them. Steve can tell which side he fluffed and which side Eddie did. The giant gap between the top two layers is obvious, and he knows he’s going to have to climb the ladder and fix it before his mom gets home, but that’s a problem for future Steve. Right now, he wants to sit here with his boyfriend even if his boyfriend is gearing up for another faux Christmas tree rant.

“Don’t tell me your mom is one of those people who only puts those stupid decorative ball things on the tree, too.”

“What do you think?” Steve says, hiding his smile behind the can of beer.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

🎄 🎄 🎄

It takes a bit of convincing and a formal invite from Wayne, but Steve keeps up his end of their deal, joining the Munsons on their quest for the perfect Christmas tree for the trailer.

Eddie has a habit of embellishing when he tells stories, but Merrill’s farm lives up to all the hype. As done, the process of selecting and chopping down the perfect tree. Steve gets stuck being the tie-breaking vote when Wayne and Eddie end up arguing over which tree to bring home. Naturally, Eddie throws a minor fit when Steve sides with Wayne, whining that he likes him better than his own boyfriend, which has Wayne rolling his eyes.

Steve gets to make the first chop but passes the ax off quickly. He doesn’t want to impede on their tradition any more than he has. Besides, axes have never been his thing. He prefers to swing bats instead.

“See, isn’t this much better than building a tree?” Eddie asks, slinging an arm over Steve’s shoulder as they stand off the side while Wayne pays.

“It definitely smells better.” Steve inhales deeply, scents of pine and hints of peppermint flooding his senses. Someone should bottle this stuff up and sell it as a cologne, he thinks. He’d definitely wear it.

“It’s easier, too.”

Steve scoffs. “Speak for yourself! You’re not the one who helped Wayne drag it all the way up here.”

Eddie laughs, eyes sparking mischievously. “Wait until you have to help him load it into the truck. That’s always the worst part.”

Steve eyes his boyfriend through squinted eyes. He ducks out of Eddie’s grasp and settles his hands on his hips. “You set me up! You just brought me here so you wouldn’t have to do manual work!”

“You wound me, Harrington,” Eddie gasps, clutching a hand over his heart as he staggers backward. “How can you think so lowly of me.”

“Because I know you, Munson,” Steve teases.

“Alright, alright, fine,” Eddie says, slinking over to Steve. “Maybe I had ulterior motives, but it's only fair after what I suffered helping you with that abomination you call a tree. At least now you’ve experienced a true Christmas tree experience.”

Steve can’t help but laugh, shaking his head as Eddie beams proudly at him.

“Ready to go, boys?” Wayne asks, rejoining them. They both nod, watching as Wayne makes his way over to the heavier side of the tree.

“You don’t have to carry it, Wayne,” Steve says, mischievous flooding his own veins. “Eddie and I will carry it to the car.”

“You bastard!”

“Hey,” Wayne scolds, swatting Eddie’s shoulder. “No swearin’ ‘round kids. I ain’t raise you like that.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he watches Eddie sigh dramatically before carefully shoving Wayne away from the tree. He waits for Eddie to follow his lead, squatting down before he counts them off. On three, they hoist the tree over their shoulders and start heading back out to the car.

🎄 🎄 🎄

“So, what do you think?” Eddie asks later, passing Steve a mug full of Wayne’s signature hot chocolate. “Is it better than your tree?”

Steve knows the answer immediately, but he takes a moment. Wants to make Eddie squirm as he admires the tree in front of him. It’s not perfect. It’s a little crooked, and there are hundreds of pine needles littering the floor. The lights are bright, though, and the branches are full of homemade and sentimental ornaments that span decades. A homemade star sits on top in lieu of the traditional angel. A star, Eddie tells him, he and his mom made by themselves the year before she got sick.

It’s perfectly imperfect.

His own traditional, straight out of the pages of a Home and Garden magazine doesn’t stand a chance against this one.

“Yeah, Eds. It’s better than my tree.”

“Victory!” Eddie shouts, nearly spilling his hot chocolate all over himself.

🎄 🎄 🎄

A month later, Steve’s belly is full of the Munson Christmas feast, but instead of lazily lounging on the couch enjoying his food baby, he’s carefully taking ornaments off of the dead Christmas tree that nearly caught fire twice since he’s been here.

“I take it back,” Steve says, carefully taking an ornament off of the dead tree. “Artificial trees are better.”

“They are not!” Eddie whines, wrapping the ornaments Steve hands him in tissue paper.

“I don’t know, Eds. I’ve never had to take down a tree on Christmas before!” he grumbles, reaching for another ornament. “This sucks.”

“It’s all your fault. If you chose my tree, it would have lived for another week! I just know it.”

“Sure it would have,” Steve snorts.

“Look on the bright side, at least we have firewood for the New Year's Eve bond fire now. We can’t do that with your stupid tree.”

“Nope, because I get to use my tree again next year, and you have to buy a new one. Think that’s another point for fake trees.”

Eddie screeches, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and tugging him off the ladder and onto the couch. Despite their full stomachs and tired eyes, they wrestle and laugh as Wayne shakes his head from the doorway, a light cigarette perched between his lips.

“Cut it out, you too,” he scolds when things get more heated between them. “Need it out before it really goes up in flames.”

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (23)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Characters: M'Baku

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, polyamory, fluff, angst, implied character’s death, gore (blood, multiple stabbing), implied torture

Indecent Proposal (22)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

Please heed the warnings for this part!

“What do think, Alpine? Will your daddies come back soon? It’s been a few hours now,” you press the white furball to your chest. You nuzzle the cat’s head and sigh. “You’re very fluffy. No wonder Bucky likes you so much.”

Alpine allows you to place them in your lap. The cat repeatedly nuzzles your swollen belly and purrs low in its throat. “You like the babies already, huh? I bet you will love it when they grab you with their chubby hands.”

You chuckle. “Be patient, sweetie. They won’t hurt you, promised. Maybe they want to cuddle you. You’re just so…fluffy and pretty.”

Kissing the cat’s head you sniffle. “Do you think they are alright? I hope so. I can’t raise two kids knowing their daddies are…” You shake your head. “No. We don’t think about it, Y/N. Steve and Bucky promised to come back to you, and they will.”

Alpine lifts its head to look at you. The white furball meows loudly before lying back down. “You think so too, right Alpine? Soon they will be back.”

“Come on, do your worst,” Rumlow laughs in Bucky’s face. He knows this is the end, but he won’t go down crying. “I have the truth on my side.”

“You see,” Bucky presses the tip of his knife into Rumlow’s chest, drawing the first droplets of blood. “I get that you wanted to avenge the woman you loved.” He circles Rumlow, while M’Baku aims his handgun at his head to make sure Rumlow doesn’t try anything stupid.

“I would’ve done the same if anyone harmed Steve, and I did,” Bucky stops right in front of Rumlow to ram his knife into the man’s shoulder. Rumlow winces when Bucky twists the knife. “I showed mercy when she tried to get rid of my husband.”

“Mercy,” Rumlow spits in Bucky’s face. “She’s dead!”

“Yeah, because that bitch was batshit crazy!” M’Baku growls. “Bucky and I had to drag her off Steve! She was like a feral animal only because Bucky’s dick was too good.”

“Thanks, man,” Bucky laughs at M’Baku’s comment. “I appreciate your praise, but we have more important things to do right now.”

“Buck—” Steve huffs.

“What I tried to tell you is that I understand where you are coming from, Rumlow,” Bucky slides the knife back out. He watches the blood paint Rumlow’s shirt red.

“But, you didn’t go after us,” Steve rams another knife into Rumlow’s side, stabbing him twice before retracting the knife. “You tried to not only kill our wife, but our unborn children too.”

“Stop toying with that piece of shit. He’s not worth your time. Bastard tried to kill the sweet woman and her babies because his girlfriend found a better dick and went crazy.”

In the background, the rest of the men chuckle. M’Baku is not wrong. There is no use in wasting time on Rumlow and his unjustified revenge campaign.

Rumlow wheezes, he feels lightheaded. He’s close to passing out when Bucky slaps him across the face. “Don’t you dare pass out on me? You won’t get away so easily. What kind of man goes after a woman and her unborn babies?”

“A pathetic little man not getting over the fact his woman wanted something more than him,” Steve wraps his hand around Rumlow’s throat from behind. “You see, no one gets in between me, Bucky, and Y/N. Not you. Not your girl. No one.”

“You made one mistake,” Bucky twirls the knife before stabbing Rumlow’s other shoulder, “you came to our town and tried to hurt what belongs to us.”

“You don’t hurt a woman to avenge another,” Steve whispers in Rumlow’s ear as he slowly sinks his knife into Rumlow’s back. “Do you know why Bucky let her go after she tried to kill me?” He twists the knife meanly. “Because he would never hurt a woman.”

“To be fair, I killed that fake nurse,” Bucky smirks darkly. He twists the knife, earning a yelp from Rumlow. “I don’t know if it was your idea, or hers. But that one is on you. I’d never killed her if she didn’t try to kill our wife and babies.”

“Buck let’s end this,” Steve looks at his husband. He doesn’t want to drag Rumlow’s end out. “We are done here, aren’t we.”

“Not yet…”

You hear voices, and then heavy footsteps. Your heartbeat quickens and you hold your breath. Is this the moment you’ve been waiting for, or did your men’s enemies win the upper hand?

“Alpine, you punk,” Bucky curses in front of the bedroom. “Why are you wearing a diamond necklace? Hey, did you rob our wife?”

Steve chuckles while his husband fights with Alpine over the necklace. “Well, it suits the furry beast.”

“STEVIE! BUCKY!” You open the door to look at your men. Bucky is busy tugging at the necklace around Alpine’s neck while Steve watches his husband with amusement. “You’re back!”

Looking them up and down you frown. They look uninjured and are in a good mood. It seems everything went according to plan. “Why did you not call? Me and Alpine were worried sick. You missed lunch, and dinner!”

Hands on your hips you rant about missed dinners, worrying you and the poor cat, and anything in between.

“Aw, we have missed you too, Y/N,” Steve takes the chance to hug you first. His husband is still busy scolding the poor cat for stealing your necklace. “I see you found a way to kill the time.”

“Alpine kept me company. Giving the pretty kitty my diamond necklace was the least I could do. Doesn’t Alpine look good? I brushed their fur, and we watched movies together.” You hide your face in Steve’s chest, inhaling his scent deeply. “You smell good, Stevie.”

“I smell good too, baby doll,” Bucky pecks your neck. He hides that Steve and he showered and changed clothes after disposing of Rumlow’s body. “How can we make things up to you?”

You smirk. “I know a way…”

Part 24

Tags in reblog.

[abibliophobiaa]

One word prompts are so hard for me cause they could go an infinite direction but what about the word Cherry with Steve?

don’t you call him ‘baby’

steve harrington x f!reader. angst with a happy ending. [2k]

——

There’s a cherry red stain on the edge of the grainy photo. The color of your favorite lipstick — the same color still on the collar of his old jean jacket. He'll never get rid of it, he’s decided long ago now. You’re smiling back at him, captured forever in this picture, the sunset behind you, a hand hiking up one side of your flowing dress, the fabric backlit by the orange sky, highlighting the curves of your silhouette. He doesn’t even need the photo to remember the way it feels for his hands to travel the pathway of your side, your hip, the contours of your thighs. And the memories of that day hit him like a freight train all the same, like it was only yesterday.

Your hand is in his as he peels away from the curb at Max and Lucas’ new place in California. Sun streaks across the sky still, his sunglasses perched high on his nose. He feels you squeeze him tighter, thumb stroking lovingly along his knuckles. He turns his head and captures your gaze, your mouth a firm line, eyes round and soft. Sad.

“You okay?” you ask, and he realizes that sadness is for him. Heart practically shatters at that, because you know him deeply — just as you’ve always known over the years without him ever uttering a word.

His lip wobbles, but he doesn’t cry, tries not to at least. Even so, you gather the tear that eventually streams down his face. Thumb it away so tenderly it’s like you’re trying to capture it — to encapsulate this moment. Max is gone, Lucas is starting a new career, Dustin is off to college with El, Will, and Mike. Robin’s getting married soon. And he’s peering at everyone through the window, wishing them well, watching them slip away with the passing of time.

Everything is changing, yet you remain, and though it aches to see his life changing so quickly and suddenly, you’re a constant. The thought alone has him leaning over at a red light and kissing you soundly on the lips, hands in your hair at the back of your head, his cheeks flaming hot when the light turns green and someone slams on the horn behind him.

“Let’s go somewhere,” you muse softly, a little to yourself, head against the doorframe, free hand twirling in the wind out the window, catching sunlight in the palm of your hand. “That sign says there’s a beach up ahead. I want to put my feet in the water.”

He smiles, squeezing your hand, thinking how he can’t wait to marry you one day. “Okay, honey.”

Soon enough you’re both running along the beach with your hands tangled together. You’re spinning. Twirling. Laughing as he turns you round and around on the beach, sand between your toes, sun kissing his skin, blissful words punctuated by lingering kisses. There’s a blanket strewn out nearby you brought along and laid out, shoes discarded, your newest book propped open on its front. Beside that is the camera he brought along for the trip, the same one he rushes away to grab, chest splitting in two at the wide smile that breaks along your face.

You’re perfect. Everything he could ever want and more in a person. Beautiful beyond whatever measure a camera could ever capture you within. The photo slides out and slowly develops. The same photo you hold pinched between your fingertips as you later drive back to your hotel, bringing your lips to the bare corner, leaving a cherry red stain behind.

“Give me your wallet,” you reach an arm out and he slaps the leather within, the picture sliding into an empty slot. “Now you’ll always have me with you.”

Such sweet words — if only you had known.

He’s not sure how it happened. How that one perfect day became a memory. He still remembers the feel of your warm skin after hours on the beach spent kicking up sand, dancing in the waves, falling into fits of laughter as you eventually fell back onto a blanket, hands tangled together as tightly knit as your hearts. Later you’d pulled him down against you in that hotel bed, blocked out the rest of the world, and relished the feel of two souls wound together like one. You whispered forever against his throat as he later curled you against his chest, with the sound of his heartbeat a promise to lull you into sleep.

But things changed. His anxiety after Vecna grew, he buried himself in a job he didn’t even want at his father’s company to run from it. Work became too much — distance between you grew, him on trips that drew him further and further away from Hawkins. He pushed you away, he knew it, you knew it, though neither wanted to admit it out loud. At first you fought about it, about how you wanted forever but forever couldn’t look like this if you wanted it to stand the test of time. And then the apartment grew silent. Screaming matches turned into quiet sobs before bed, when you thought he couldn’t hear you, but he did every time. The distance became a chasm, too far to broach.

Then you left. Packed your things one morning and chose yourself. He understood. Of course he did. Still it didn’t make anything better. Didn’t make his heart hurt any less.

Now he sits in the middle of your — his — bed staring at the photo of you. The box of things he kept of yours through the years stored beneath his bed, even after Eddie suggested he might want to put it away in a closet or something. It’s been six months, six months of not turning over every morning to find you already awake and propped up beside him, wanting the first thing he sees every morning to be your smiling face. Six months of wondering what you’re doing, wondering who you’re talking to, wondering if you’ve moved on.

He gets his answer that night.

Eddie’s shoving Steve along beside him. Clothes cling to sweaty bodies in the packed bar. Robin couldn’t make it, so the two decide on a ‘boy’s night out.’ They’ve not had one in a bit, since Chrissy’s just given birth to their first baby a couple months ago. But she practically pushes him out the door that night, promising her and their new son will be fine, that he deserves a fun night with his friend.

Only it’s far from fun. With July came the hottest weather Hawkins has seen all year. ‘A record breaking high,’ the news stations tout. All Steve knows is his jeans feel tighter than usual, his skirt is stuck to his sweaty back, and the woman he loves is standing at the bar with a man Steve doesn’t recognize.

“Don’t look,” Eddie warns, as though it’s not already too late. As if Steve’s not drawn to you like a magnet, even after all this time. “He could be a friend, or something.”

He could be. But the man is reaching over to rest a hand over your forearm, head bent low, eyes wide, and clearly engaged in whatever story you’re telling him. Steve’s not surprised. It’s one of his favorite things about you: this way you seem to captivate every room you walk into. Like he’s in your orbit, circling around you, pulled in close by your mere aura. Anyone who knows you loves you, he thinks — and they’re lucky for it. He’d been lucky for a time, too.

“Steve, stop torturing yourself,” Eddie says, giving his friend’s shoulder a little wiggle. “Here — let me go grab us some beers. I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything hasty.”

Steve shakes his head. What’s he going to do? Scream. Cry. Beg for you to come back. No — instead he watches. Feels his chest ache as you throw your head back in a laugh at something your date must say, hiding your smile against the lip of your glass, suddenly bashful when your eyes flicker up and clash with Steve’s. The drink in your hand falls and shatters and people rush to clean it up. Your date scrambles to find a stack of napkins, dabs at the front of your blouse, the gesture lost to you as you stay staring ahead, held in place by a ghost of your past.

Suddenly, like a light bulb flashing in your mind, you snap back to attention. He watches the bob of your throat on a swallow, the long rise and fall of your chest on your deep inhale and exhale, the forceful smile that curls your lips as you return your focus to your date.

The moment slips away as Eddie returns to the table, glasses in hand.

——

He’s not sure how he ends up here. Standing in your doorway, the ‘exit’ sign at the end of your hall flickering in the night. Your palm splays against the open door, mouth agape, eyes on his face, blinking frantically like you might think he’s an apparition.

“Please don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend.” Please don’t tell me you call him ‘baby.’ He hates himself for the tears that glimmer like pools in his eyes, hates as you reach up to cover his cheek when the first spills down his skin. “Damn it — I had a whole speech and I —” His voice breaks, throat closing around his words. You’re on your toes, face in his collar bone, clinging to him like he’s the very thing keeping you afloat at sea. “I quit my job, I started therapy, I’m not saying it excuses anything but —”

“Come with me,” you whisper, dropping back onto your heels, pajama shorts ruffling around your thighs.

Heat blooms in his belly as your fingers knit with his, dragging you further into an unfamiliar apartment. It’s very you. All your favorite colors and things, movies strewn about the living room floor, the grainy static humming on a television screen. A pot of half-eaten macaroni is left on a stove top, a plant on your kitchen table, books on a little shelf on a corner leading to a hallway. Lived in.

“Sit on the bed,” you demand as he slips inside your bedroom.

The blankets are messy, like you’ve risen from a nap recently. A stuffed animal he won you at a carnival rests beside your pillow, well-loved, as the fur is no longer as fluffy as it once had been. He watches stiffly as you reach down beneath your bed and pull out a shoebox. In your lipstick, you’ve written “Us” and decorated the top of the box with dozens of little stickers accumulated over the years. In awe, his gaze trails your hands as they pluck item after item collected throughout the years together. That first Scoops Ahoy napkin where he wrote his phone number down, that strip of photos at the photo booth at a carnival, your plush toy between your bodies as he kissed you that first time, a shirt of his from high school days that still smelled like him when you breathed deep enough, the little stack of Polaroids with all your memories scattered within. Early dates, holidays, Valentine’s Day, trips out of town with Robin, photos with the kids. Memories frozen in time of a life that feels so long ago — a life he still craves more than anything.

“I never got rid of them,” you mutter thoughtfully, holding up a photo of him napping on a lawn chair at his parent’s house, skin tanned, chest bare, marker scribbles by the kids on his face in the shape of glasses. “He’s not my boyfriend. I haven’t dated anyone since…”

“Me neither,” he swallows, inhaling sharply as your forehead rests against his. “I know I can’t…I know I messed up and I can’t take that back. But you deserve the world and I want it to be with me.”

“You’re going to give me the world, Harrington?” You tease, and he can almost hear the laughter in your voice as you reach down between the two of you to shove the memory box aside.

“If you’ll let me.”

“You have a lot of groveling to do,” you murmur, and he can feel your lips brush his, just a whisper, softly enough he wonders if he’s dreaming, “starting with this.”

He kisses you. One for every day he’s gone without. Until you’re falling onto your back and gazing up at him with stars in your eyes, fingers trailing his bare chest, lingering along the heart that thumps wildly beneath, singing of a forever.

——

[hellfire--cult]

SoftDom!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

wc: 4k

+18 MDNI, SOME fluff, smut, p in v, fingering, blowjob, rough sex, bondage, breeding kink, dirty talk, non-safe sex, reader being a bratty fiancé

Plot: The pandemic had its ups and downs. One of the good things it brought was the fact that your husband can forever work remotely from home. But you sometimes get a little needy.

A/N: Just filth. Pure filth.

please always reblog, thank you

HOME OFFICE

The pandemic had its ups and downs.

You for one, didn’t mind staying home, but you did miss your friends and family terribly. You’ve always worked online and remotely at home for a company outside the country, so that wasn’t something that changed for you like it did for many others.

In those many others, it includes your husband.

You thought he would return to the office as soon as it was declared that you could head outside, but no such thing happened. It seems that there’s more productivity from people working at home rather than going physically to the workplace. You don’t work 9-5 like your husband does, so you have time to clean the house a little bit, cook lunch and dinner. 

He would always be so grateful for the food. Sometimes he would be in a meeting and you would come in very quietly and place the plate of food and a glass of water on the corner of the desk and then head out. Twenty minutes later your husband would rush out of the room as soon as the meeting was over to pepper your face in kisses as if to say thank you for the attention. 

But there were times when your husband wasn’t having the best of days. 

Working from home also stresses you out sometimes, because you are overwhelmed with stuff because, since you’re more productive, they give you more things to do. That’s just what they do to your poor husband. But there are times that he overworks himself just because he thinks he needs to.

Like today.

“Baby, you should’ve gotten off work two hours ago…” You cooed at him from the doorway, wearing a silk robe on your body and just that. For the past week your husband has not been paying attention to you, and it’s because he is just being a people pleaser. 

“I’m just trying to finish this sheet sweetheart, promise I’ll get off soon.” That wasn’t the answer you wanted from him at all. 

“Steve…” You were whining now, and his head turned to look at you for a second, and that’s when you saw the instant click in your husband’s eyes.

Your husband was overall sweet, and very dutiful. He was always considered the mom of your group of friends, even though you were right there. Always taking care of others before himself, and always being one step ahead of stuff in order to say ‘already took care of it’.

But there was a side that only you knew about your husband. You got to know it when you two were one year into the relationship, three years ago. You two had just moved in together, and you were cranky for not being able to sleep comfortably in your new bed, taking your time to adjust into it. 

So of course, you were snappy at everything your husband did wrong, even if it was leaving the toilet seat up, or leaving one single used spoon in the sink. That night, you got to meet a side of your boyfriend you never expected from him, yet you were delighted, and your mood instantly got better afterwards.

This side of him is only triggered… when you’re being a brat.

“I am working. Don’t whine.” Steve said in a very stern voice, a voice that only ignited the heat between your legs even more than before. His eyes returned to the computer as he began typing away. 

You licked the inside of your cheek and you strutted towards the desk which was in the middle of the room, putting both of your hands on the edge that was on the other side of him, and you leaned forward, looking down at your husband.

“I whine cause you haven’t been paying attention to me for the past week.” He only gave you one glance, not caring for how much you were showing your cleavage to him, and his eyes went back to the screen in front of him, his fingers never stopping from typing. You could see the reflection of the computer on his glasses, and it just irritated you even more.

“You know there’s always a week that I’m full of work. We’ll do whatever you want tomo–”

“Now!” You stomped your foot with a whiny cry, as if you were a child, but you were tired of being pent up because of this, and he closed his eyes with a sigh, but you could also hear a groan in his throat.

“Don’t be a fucking brat.” He called your name, a threat, and you straightened up after that, and he didn’t say anything else. He resumed his typing and you were angry. Seething. You had two options right here: One of them was to walk out of the room, take care of yourself in the room, and then go cook dinner…

Or…

You dropped on your knees and immediately crawled under the desk, finding his legs that were covered in grey sweatpants as your hands started from his ankles, and slowly gliding them up, biting your bottom lip as you reached his thighs. You heard him take a deep intake of breath, but the typing never stopped, which only made you even more frustrated.

You hummed as you reached his bulge, and you smirked as you found some hardness in the pants. You did rile him up when you walked into the room. You pressed your hand onto it and you felt him move, even if slightly, on his chair. You started rubbing onto it, slowly, and you could feel his cock getting harder by each stroke, a tent starting to form under the cloth.

Your hands then went to the hem of his pants and you bit your lip, not knowing if he will comply and help you take his sweatpants off, but as you tugged, you saw him raise his hips up and in a quick move you pulled both of the pants and boxers down, letting them pool around his ankles.

His dick sprung up, hitting on his stomach with a smack. You bit your lip as you scooted closer, your nails scratching onto his thighs as they moved up and up. He was still sitting straight as he typed away on his computer, but you didn’t care any longer. You just needed him in your mouth.

You leaned forward in order to spit right at the pink tip and then your hand ran all over it to gather your saliva, and use it as lubricant as you started pumping him, slowly, up and down, causing his dick to twitch in your hand as it became fully hard in your grip. A smile appeared on your lips as you heard the typing stop for a second and then resumed as if he had never stopped.

You then guided your mouth close to the tip, running your tongue all over the slit, and then you did the one thing that makes him crazy, which is licking on his frenulum, right under the head. You flicked on it going from side to side in a fast motion. You heard a growl above you, and you smirked as you finally took him into your mouth.

You used your hand in order to help yourself as you started bobbing your head up and down on him, slowly, at your own pace in order to taste him as you liked. The hint of saltiness started and you knew that he was starting to leak precum as you kept moving, your other hand grabbing onto his thigh for leverage.

You pulled him out of your mouth so you could press soft kisses along the shaft, to then lick from the bottom and up, giving a kiss to the head and then gliding your tongue onto the slit, giving a soft press there. You took him back into your mouth as you started becoming wetter at each bob of your head.

And then you heard it. Or well, you didn’t hear it anymore. The typing had stopped, and then a slam happened, making you pull away from him, hand still wrapped around his dick as you sat there, waiting for whatever was happening. He sat back on his chair and looked down at you underneath the desk.

You shivered as you looked up at your husband who had a frown in his eyebrows and his jaw was completely clenched, going slightly to the side that displayed his anger. His hand immediately went to the back of your head, grasping tightly onto the hair there, making you wince as he pulled your face towards his dick again, smashing it against your cheek.

“You want to be a slut? Fine. Put my cock back into your fucking mouth.” 

You whined as you complied, opening your mouth to take him in again, but you couldn’t even  wrap your hand around him to help you as you felt him guide your head down on him. He was being rough, and it almost hit the back of your throat, but he pulled on your hair to bring you back up again, only to make you plunge you back down again.

Your hands gripped onto his thighs as his other hand went to untie the tie that was on his neck. Just like everyone that works remotely does, he dresses nicely on his upper body, and then comfortably on his bottoms for the online meetings where his camera has to be on. He slid the black tie off and threw it on the desk as he kept bobbing your head up and down on him.

“You couldn’t fucking wait for a few more minutes.” You hummed against his cock as he put both of his hands now on each side of your head. “Through your nose.”

And you knew what this meant, so you started taking in air through your nose and that’s when he shoved your head down as he pushed his hips up at the same time, making him hit the back of your throat. Your eyes become teary as your face flushed, a gurgle of saliva vibrating in your throat as he pulled you back up and put his hips down, only to repeat the previous action again.

You were gagging on his cock as he throat fucked you intensely, feeling the walls of it already bruising from how rough he was being with you as he gripped onto your head, his fingers clenching on your hair. Your nails were digging into his thighs as you kept yourself on your knees.

“Look at those fucking tears.” You heard him chuckle in between his groans as his hips kept thrusting up into your mouth. “You wanted my cock, so you are going to take it how I like it.”

Said tears were running down your face like a waterfall from the intensity of it all, feeling your throat becoming sore and the gags were already making your stomach turn a little bit. You gave him a tap on his thigh and he took notice of that, stopping his movements all together, and pulling your head up.

You took a sharp intake of breath with a gasp. Saliva mixed with precum was sliding down from the corner of your lips as you huffed for air. His face came close to yours, and he didn’t even look fazed by what he had done to you. 

“Color?” And behind the roughness, your husband was still there. The sweet husband that always took care of you first beyond everything else. You gulped in order to get saliva in your throat once more, letting you talk clearly.

“G-Green…” 

He stood up abruptly from the chair, making it fall back behind him and he raised you up on your two feet by the hair. You yelped in pain but before you could continue with a whine, his lips clashed against yours. You moaned against the kiss and you wanted to wrap your arms around him, but you knew better than that, so you kept them dangling on your sides. 

His tongue invaded your mouth without permission, making you whine in need and then you felt his hand rip open your silk robe, shoving it away from your body with his big hands. The chill air hitting your breasts, perking the nipples up instantly, hardening the bud. One of his hands immediately cupped one of your tits, and pinched onto the nipple, harshly.

You yelped onto his tongue and he chuckled as he moved his hand downwards while the other gripped onto your ass, pulling you closer. Your body was on fire as his fingers instantly found your clit, slowly moving them in circled motions and then went down in between your folds. He pulled away from you, finally letting you moan out into the room.

“So wet for me. Did sucking my dick turn you on this much?” You could only nod at him and then your eyes widened when he landed a slap against your clit, causing you to whimper. “Answer me.”

“Y-Yes–” You could only gasp as you felt two fingers plunging inside of you in one motion, and your hands shot up in order to hold onto his shoulders as you moaned out a cry at the sudden stretch.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” You nodded at his words as he pumped his fingers in and out of you and you moved your hips against them, trying to follow his rhythm. He was guiding you with the hand that was on your ass, pushing you further into him at each thrust.

“S-Steve, baby– Please–” You begged. You needed him inside of you, right this second. His fingers are not doing justice to what he could do to you. He growled, biting back a come back, but he was already frustrated himself, and he wanted to cum. He desperately needed to cum.

He pulled his fingers out of you, making you sigh from disappointment only to be manhandled into turning around, and then he pushed your upper back onto the table, bending you completely with your ass in the air. He grabbed onto the tie he left on the desk before.

“Arms behind.” You were breathing a little bit heavy as you complied to his wishes, putting your arms behind your back. He tied your forearms together, and you knew that your shoulders were going to be sore tomorrow, but it was going to be so worth it. “What do you need?”

“Hngh–” You wiggled your ass towards him, but the only thing that earned you was a loud smack onto one of your cheeks, making you whine.

“You acted like a fucking brat to get it. Have the decency to tell me what it is and I will give it to you.”

“I– I need your cock Stevie, please– Please, I need it…” And he didn’t need any more indulgence. He grabbed onto both your plump cheeks that were wiggling at him and he spread them open. He smirked at your puckered hole, and it was a shame he didn’t prep you for that tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

He lined his cock up towards your wet pussy, sliding against your clit a few times, making you moan in need, and then with no warning, he pushed inside of you, and your eyes widened when he didn’t take his time to let you adjust. He just kept going, knocking the air out of your mouth as the side of your head rested against the desk.

“So fucking tight…” He groaned out. “Even after all these years you’re still so tight for me baby…”

“Steve–” Your words were cut short when in one sharp thrust he pushed forward, completely seething himself inside of you, and your mouth fell into a wide ‘o’ shape as your eyebrows frowned at the friction of it all. It was too much, but it felt so good. It always feels so good.

He got hold of your tied forearms, and just like a cowboy would ride his horse and your arms were his reins. He straightened up, his other free hand dangling on his side, looking down at you, with his glasses still on. The reflection of your ass was the one that was over the crystals, and he smirked as he pulled his hips back, and then pushed forward again, and pulled on your arms to bring you to him.

You let out a loud moan and cry of his name, feeling him hit onto your spongy part that resided inside of you, but then went deeper than that. Your husband has always been on the bigger side, and feeling him splitting you like this only added fuel to the fire that was inside of you.

He started a brutal pace, skin slapping constantly as his balls hit against your clit, his hips against your ass that jiggled at each movement. He was trying to hold in the groans in his throat as he slapped one of your ass cheeks with his free hand while the other kept pulling you to him.

“Baby, did you come here for another reason?” You heard him ask, but your mind was still gone as he kept pistoning his hips against you, earning another loud smack on your ass that will probably leave a bruise, making you cry and snapping you back into reality. “Is it because it’s the perfect time? It is, isn't it?”

“Y-Yes! God–” You had come with two missions today, and one of them was being fulfilled, the other will soon happen.

“You came for me to fill you up? Have you all full of my cum so it takes?” He moaned as he felt your walls clench around him at his words. You nodded against the desk as tears rolled down and hit the wood under your face. You were going to cum without him touching you at all, just from his dick hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

“Yes, yes, please, Steve– Make me pregnant, fill me up–” He groaned behind you as his thrusts became harder, the slapping of skin even louder than before and you could hear grunts coming out of his throat as you whimpered his name many times, your walls clenching each second that passed.

“I can’t fucking wait to see your belly all round with my baby, fuck– sweetheart I can’t fucking wait…” That was enough for you to cum around him, letting out a loud yell of his name, legs trembling as his pace stopped for a second because you were clenching too hard all around him. “Fuck– Sweetheart–”

He winced at the friction of your cunt around him, and when he felt you start to relax, just slightly, he took a deep breath in and started his pace again, not letting you come down from your orgasm, wanting to drive you straight to another one thanks to overstimulation. 

“St–Steve, baby, stop–” But it wasn’t a true plea. You knew it wasn’t something you actually wanted, and he knew it too, so that’s why he didn’t stop at all. He smacked your ass once and he felt himself twitch inside of you, making him groan loudly.

“I’m gonna fill you up– You’re going to be so full.” He groaned when his glasses started to fog thanks to his jagged breaths, and he took them off to throw them onto the desk, beads of sweat coming down his forehead. You were choking on your moans as you tried to move your strained arms again, when you felt your walls start clenching, and you felt like you were dying from how hard your orgasm was going to be.

“S-Steve– Steve!” You couldn’t warn him fast enough that you were cumming onto his cock again, right after the last one you had because he didn’t let you rest from it. This time, your g-spot was so overstimulated that it made your juices gush out on him, drenching your legs and his. 

“F-Fuck, shit!” He was too overwhelmed with the view that he pushed you onto his cock as he thrusted deep inside of you, and he let out a loud moan as the ropes of his white spent filled your walls. You whimpered through a moan as you felt the warmth invade your insides.

You two were left panting in the room, trying to get your breathing back to normal. He was the first to regain his composure again as he untied the tie around your arms, and thanks to feeling the relief from being able to move them again, you snapped back into reality. You took a sharp intake of breath as you blinked and pressed your hands against the desk in order to pull yourself up. 

Your legs were shaking and you didn’t have time to recover yourself that he was turning you around to sit you on the desk. 

“What–?” You managed to breathe out for a second before you felt his fingers gather your juices and his cum that was already dripping out of your cunt, and plunging them inside like a plug. You let out a whimper at the sensation and he leaned forward to press a kiss on one of your stained cheeks.

“I know baby… I know…” He didn’t move his fingers, he just kept them there. “I’ll prepare dinner tonight, you just lay down on the couch, okay?” 

Your lovely husband was back, the rough demeanor already gone and you smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. Steve and you had been trying for the past few months, and today was another month you were going to try and you were ovulating. 

“God, I hope it takes…” You sighed out dreamily and he nodded at that, wanting nothing more for you two to finally become parents. He pressed a soft kiss against your forehead and then sent a smile your way.

“I hope so too. Also, way to rile me up.” You giggled at him as he wiped your cheeks lovingly with his free hand. 

“Maybe we just needed to do it roughly…” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he tsked at you with his tongue, lightly slapping the side of your thigh, making you chuckle. 

“There’s no way that the way we have sex influences it.”

To Steve’s surprise, it does, because a month later your pregnancy test came out positive.

God bless working from home. 

A/N: I never wrote a just steve fic before, so here it is, welcome to my dirty thoughts