#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.)

[im-yn-suckers]

ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ? ✧˖° bf!riki x gf!reader ✧˖° tw: kissies, cuddles, mention of stress, reader is said to be short but that could literally js mean shorter than him, and only sorta maybe perhaps a little kinda self indulgent bc i want a riki ^^ a little disclaimer: idk if riki listens to all of these, as they just come off of my playlist !

your desk is covered in pens, pencils, sticky notes and other supplies. ah yes, another paper, but this time you finished in time. previously you were worrying about getting in on time and if you did it right. will the professor think its good? will i get a good grade? i hope i didnt mess up

all of these thoughts crowded your mind for days maybe even weeks. it brought you tears and pride. the final paper you so horridly dreaded now turned in as you leave your desk, not bothering to clean it up. you walk over to your bf, who was busy playing league on the couch, that filled up, almost, the entire room.

you plop down next to him, leaning on his shoulder. his scent intoxicating you, god, how you missed it for the last 3 hours. "you done pretty girl?" he asks, though not looking down, too focused on his game. you only nod. minutes pass and youre still cuddled up to him. soon enough, he turns the tv off and turns toward you, fully sideways. he lets himself fall back onto the couch, allowing you to fall w him.

a giggle leaves his pretty lips, as you fall on top of him. the couch cant fit the both of you so he improvised. you lay your head on his shoulder, almost his clavicle. you lightly peck the skin-exposed by his black hoodie-covered by pretty moles. "youre squishing me!" "shhh this was all you" he sighs in defeat. "lets go to the bed then" you sigh, not wanting to move.

on the bed, you two lay on your backs, close together. something about his calm presence when you two are in bed, ready to fall asleep, is so comforting. maybe it was his scent, as mentioned, its intoxicating, almost dizzying. or maybe his giant figure next to yours, offering a sense of protection. maybe his soft breaths as he lays down, scrolling tiktok, not quite ready to sleep, yet.

"baby, baby!" he perks up, seeing a video "hm?" you respond, on the verge of falling asleep. your eyelids droopy. "lets make a playlist and take turns adding songs!" you giggle as you hear the idea, finding it quite endearing. you nod in agreement. he opens his laptop and pulls up spotify.

tapping the plus, he creates a new playlist. "what should we name it?" he asks, trying to complete the first step. "mmmm idk, something short but cute" he types in your name to tease you. "hey!" "what?? you said short and cute!" he deletes the name, trying to think of a new one.

"wait! ki! yk the song tell my momma by kard?" you have an idea, hoping its a good one. "uhm i know OF it, why?" "how bout we put 'ill do anything to make our love last long'?" you suggest a long but sweet lyric "baby, thats corny" "so is making a playlist tgt" silence. "ugh ig ure right" you giggle and he puts down the lyric.

"ok songs, you add one first" he pushes the laptop your way and you think for a moment you add the first song, every kind of way by h.e.r, he smiles seeing the song. he takes his turn "where is love" by 3house. your turn again, "wa-r-r" by colde. his turn again, "someone like u" by lullaboy "infranumi" by steve lacy, "pink+white" by frank ocean. "seasons" by wave to earth, "3:00 am" by finding hope it goes back and forth adding songs and laughing

once you two finish, he shuts the laptop, reaching over to set it down. he turns to his side to grab you and pull you close to him. his arms wrapping around you. he presses a little kiss to your lips saying goodnight.

[songbirdmunson]

Vιԃҽσ Gαɱҽʂ

eddie munson x afab!reader

based off this little idea I had

• wordcount: 1.1K

18+ only or I will break your knees (lovingly) explicit content ahead, if you don’t wish to see don’t read! Steve Harrington is mentioned more than once. voyeurism sex with Eddie. enjoy!

“Can you even hear a word I’m saying right now?” Your boyfriend's silence answers the question for you as you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of you. You are all for him getting some time to unwind but lately he’s been glued to his Xbox, playing some new game with Steve that you couldn’t care to remember the name of. He’s oblivious to your frustration as he chats away with Steve, only pausing to take a sip of the Mountain Dew he keeps in his chalice on his desk.

You walk over slowly behind him, looking at the screen as he and Steve fight off zombies, any other day you’d let him play and you’d go do your thing. Today, you wanted attention, and you were going to get it, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind. “Eddie baby?” You whisper, leaning down where your head is next to his, you can hear Steve on the other end cackling about something. You poke your boyfriend in the side but he just shoos you off, not even turning to look at you.

‘He’s turning into an addict.’ You think to yourself as you finally walk yourself around his chair, stopping right in front of him. “Hey!! What are you doing babe?!” He all but shrieks out as you look down at him, smirking evilly. “Getting what I deserve Eddie.” You mumble, running your finger down the side of his face as he lets out a complaint about how you just made him die, poor thing. That will be the farthest thought in his mind in a few seconds.

Your fingers fumble with his belt, pulling it through the loops before you’re throwing it behind you. Eddie looks down at you, his eyebrows shooting up underneath his bangs. “Babe… oh Jesus Christ.” He moans out as you kiss the tip of his cock through his boxers, your fingers grip deliciously into the meat of his thighs as he rips his headset off, slamming it down onto his desk so hard you don’t know how it didn’t break.

“You wanted my attention, hmm? Little brat couldn’t even make it an hour without needing me down their throat, that’s kinda gross baby.” He growls out, his thick fingers winding their way into your hair as he pulls you down closer to where he needs you the most. You go brainless as you pull his dick out of his pants slowly, it’s so pretty, his piercing shimmering on top only makes it better. You spit onto your hand slowly before wrapping it back around the base, twisting slowly before you begin to move it up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

“You’d rather pay attention to zombies than this baby? Are you crazy?” You ask, pouting up at him as he leans his head back, a loud moan slips its way past his beautiful lips. Nobody is thinking about poor Steve on the other end of the headset, his face is beet red and his pants tight, but that would be a worry for later. “N-No, fuck, would much rather watch you use that sinful mouth of yours baby, all day.” He chokes out, the air leaving his body almost completely as you spit down onto the head, you smile up at him one more time before you dive down like you’re starved and his dick is the best meal on earth.

Shuffling forward you go down as far as you can, choking slightly as Eddie lets out another beautiful noise. You had him exactly how you wanted, he’s like putty as he sinks down into his chair. His hips are soon bucking against your face, incoherent mumbling and praises are tumbling out of his mouth as the coarse hair beneath his cock scratches against your face. It’s all thrilling, the smell of him, how he tastes, the realization that Steve and any of his other friends that are playing with him can hear you pleasuring him right now. It almost has you wanting to cum in your jeans.

You pop off only for a second, catching some air as you lick your lips slowly. “Want me to ride you in your little gaming chair?” You tease mockingly as he nods, his hair is everywhere, tangled up from where he’s been pulling on it, slightly sticking to his face from the sweat beads that are rolling down his forehead. You know they would taste delicious too, everything about Eddie does. You waste no time as soon as he gives you the go to get on him you’re pushing your pants down to your knees, your underwear are only pulled to the side as you turn around facing away from him.

Just having him in your mouth already has you wet enough that you don’t need to prep, you turn your head around over your shoulder, smiling at him wickedly before you sink down onto him. You bite back a moan as his dick stretches you out, you and Eddie had done this so many times but you’d honestly never get used to how thick he is. It’s absolutely perfect, every ridge of the veins rubbing against you in the right way, every time you go back down the head rubs against the spot that has your legs turning into jelly. “Please baby… think I’m gonna cum.. fuck!” His big hands are holding onto your hips loosely, you know his brain is so pussy whipped he can't even think straight right now.

“Next time you even think about ignoring me for your little zombies I want you to remember this baby, you understand?” You scold him, grinding your hips in a circle as you feel him shaking beneath you. “Y-yes! Yes! Promise I’ll remember, I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry please baby right there oh my fucking go-od.” This man is down bad, you laugh a little as you lift up and down only a few more times before he breaks, you keep yourself still, feeling his cock twitching inside you as he lets out profanities that you weren’t even sure existed. “Fuck… such a good boy, filling me up. I’m so proud of you.” You coo, lifting yourself up slowly, his softening dick falling out of you, you can feel his cum leaking out and sticking to your thighs.

You lean back against Eddie, smiling before turning his face to kiss him a few times. “That was better than any of your games.” You say confidently, grabbing his headset and slipping it on. “Hey Steve, he’s all yours now hun, have fun killing Zombies.” You say, laughing wildly as Eddie’s face heats up. Steve cums in his pants that day, and he’s not even ashamed.

taglist ahead, thanks for reading! 💗

@loserboysandlithium @runningupthatvecna @wolfqueenxxx @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @magicalmysterytour13 @woahlifehitsyahuh @hellfiremunsonn @eddiemunsonfuxks @ali-r3n @guiltyasquinn @beep-beep-sherlock @barnes-bestgirl @edsstrawberryjam @micromoose @3rd-conchord @mamakitty187 @comeonatmebruh @bcmbiquinn @seatnights @scorpiosapphire @berilynzoe @floredaqueen @melodymunson @rafescorpsebride @bloodibambiidoll @gri959 @munsongirly @londonfog-chan @quinnyficsy @hauntedfawnn

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Tease

Steve Harrington x Reader

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

CW: SMUT AHEAD! No use of Y/N. Pet names used. Reader has a vagina. Teasing. Oral (male receiving). Unprotected P in V. Creampie.

WC: 1.6K

His body is flushed and sweaty, chest heaving with every breath, sprawled out across the bed, boxers still on, hands cuffed above his head and securely attached to the headboard.

You chance a glance up to see his eyes screwed shut, face twisted in pleasure, pressed into his arm, teeth grazing his bicep to keep another whimper at bay while you're practically torturing him. You pause your current ministrations to truly look at him, cheeks and ears tinged pink along with his soft pouty lips, tousled brown locks sticking to his forehead.

You smirk at the mess you’ve made of him, blooms of maroon and dark purples along his neck and collar bones. There are faint teeth marks at the juncture of his throat where it meets his shoulder. A thin sheen of sweat mats down the hair across his chest, while his skin is glistening in the low light.

Beautiful. Your sweet, angelic boyfriend that lets you corrupt him like this.

He takes a shuddering breath, picking his head up, letting his gaze fall down to you when he realizes you’ve stopped. His honey hued irises a mere ring surrounding the inky black pupils blown wide with lust but the look on his face is soft, filled with a pure adoration.

His brow furrows slightly, lips parting, about to say something but you speak up.

“So pretty, Stevie.” You smile, lazy and saccharine. “Such a good boy for me.”

You watch the heat go to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, turning the pink to a slight shade of red at the praise as he lets out a small moan, closing his eyes as his head falls back against the pillow. For someone like Steve, who never seemed to get embarrassed you could easily fluster him with just a few simple words. Only you got to see him like this, the vulnerable side that let you take the lead and let him forget about the rest of the world.

You lean back down and mouth hot against cock, only the thin fabric separating you, already soaked through with your saliva and his precum as he almost growls, a deep rumble emanating from the back of his throat as his hips thrust up, searching for more. He's already so hard it’s starting to ache. You’ve been going at it for the last half hour and know he’s close to begging for relief at this point.

“Goddamnit baby.” He hisses through gritted teeth, bucking up again when your teeth lightly nip at him.

You hum, lips working over him still, before pulling back once more. “Do you think you've been good enough to cum for me Stevie?”

“God yes, please. Yes.” He whimpers out as your fingertips hook into his waistband, eyes meeting yours with a frenzied plea.

“Please… what baby?” You ask, voice dripping with sugar, taking the opportunity to tease him a little further.

“Please… let me cum…” He breathes out ragged and on edge, futilely pulling at the cuffs while you slowly pull his underwear down his legs as his cock is finally set free of its confinement. You hear the faintest moan as he melts back into the mattress.

The boxers are thrown somewhere across the room to join the rest of his clothing, but your eyes never leave him. His thick cock is resting toward his stomach, the tip an angry shade of red and leaking, making a mess of his happy trail. Leaning over, you plant a kiss to his hip as it kicks up, a thin thread of sticky spend right below his navel connecting back to his head.

“Honey… I… I can’t take all the teasing tonight. Please!” He begs and something in his voice lets you know he was telling the truth. He was too wound up.

“Shhh baby.” You coo. “Just relax. I've got you.”

Flattening your tongue, you carve a path up his hip bone, then across his stomach. His muscles tighten beneath you as he groans and writhes, still not reaching its intended target just yet, drawing it out a little more just to hear his breathy pleading.

“F—fuuuuuck honey…” He moans, as you grin, tongue flicking across his slippery tip.

“Mmmm… taste so good, Stevie.”

“Goddamn… yes.” He hisses, voice strained, as you wrap your hand around him, thumb swirling at his sensitive head catching and smearing his spend, spitting on his length to give you more to work with.

Schlick sounds fill the room along with his moans as your hand continues to work him up and down, up and down at a mere leisurely pace, giving him just enough to keep him satisfied but not enough to give him the relief he so desperately craves.

He whines as you pull your hand away and just for a moment, he thinks you're going to prolong his torture.

“Mouth or pussy?” You ask, another moan falling from his lips before he answers, voice hoarse and ragged, filled with need.

“P—pussy. Pussy! God, I need t’feel you.”

It was a silly question, really. You knew the answer before uttering it. He would rather cum in you, than waste it on a blowjob.

You start to clamber back up his body and situate yourself on his lap, trapping his cock between his stomach and your soaked folds.

It takes all of his will power not to drive his hips up into yours, letting you have control, as you line him up to your entrance. He watches you slowly sink down onto his throbbing cock. It was always a stretch, but you took him so well.

His eyes dart between your face and where the two of you were connected, as your own head falls back, hands splayed across his chest as you continued the slow, torturous task of taking him in, inch by inch, feeling every vein and ridge on the descent.

His face holds a mixture of both pain and pleasure, parted lips releasing a chorus of moans and whines as you spear yourself on his length.

“Mmmm… so big!” You cry out, eyes rolling back as his tip nudges your cervix letting you know you couldn't possibly take anymore, pausing briefly to catch your breath and ready yourself.

“That's it baby, takin’ me so fuckin' good.” He praises with a lopsided grin, making your pussy flutter around him with need, eliciting a hiss from him. “Fuck, m’not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

“S'okay baby.” You breathe out as your hips start to move. “All about you tonight.”

He starts to protest, but he can already feel himself on the edge of a losing battle, nodding and closing his eyes.

You lean back, placing your hands behind you gripping his knees for leverage as you start to bounce. He can't help himself from thrusting in time to meet you, as you both set a steady rhythm.

He's hanging on by a thread, each time he disappears inside you, his lower stomach clenches a little more, his balls tightening up with his impending release.

“F—fuck honey, jus— just like that.” He rushes out, eyes fixed on your naked form, as his cock slides in and out of your tight cunt.

“Cum for me baby!” You cry out, and that's all it takes to push him over.

He thrusts once, twice, three times before he's spilling hot and heavy inside you, giving you every last drop that he has with a deep grunt. He stills his hips to let you ride him through it, his chest heaving from the exertion.

“Baby… baby…” He whimpers, still twitching inside you, your greedy pussy wanting more, slowing your hips to a lazy roll as you drape yourself back over him.

“Mmmm. Bet that felt so good.” Your lips find his neck, trailing up his jaw. He's practically boneless beneath you, still trying to catch his breath as your hips grind to a halt.

He hums in response, thoroughly spent, a shiver running through him. His eyes flutter open to see you staring back at him with hearts in your eyes before leaning over him to retrieve the key from the nightstand to unlock him.

The cuffs slip away with a small audible click, his arms falling to either side of his head as you begin to ease up from his lap, tossing the cuffs back into the drawer but he stops you by throwing his arms around your waist holding you firmly to him.

“Mmph, no. No.” He murmurs, pulling you chest to chest, feeling his cock stir once more. “Don't go.”

In one fluid motion, he grips your hip and maneuvers you onto your back, head hitting the pillow before you had time to process what was happening.

“Oh.” You giggle. “Not done yet?”

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in, hips pushing lazily back into yours when he becomes rigid once again, his cum leaking out from around his thick cock.

Whatever words you had die on your tongue, as all thoughts are pushed from your mind with each slow and steady roll of his hips.

He kisses up your neck, just under your jaw before whispering in your ear.

“It’s your turn, pretty girl. Gonna fill this pussy over and over again.” He kisses your cheek sweetly as if he didn't just let those filthy words escape, before his next thrust takes your breath away. “Hang on angel, we’ve got all night.”

[yelenasdiary]

Hi 👋🏾 I just sent a request in not too long ago but I forgot to specify that it's a Fem!Reader it was this one :

something where everyone thinks R is treating wanda poorly bc they're polar opposites (R is kinda a brick wall + wanda isn't all perky but she's just nice and more open) and wanda hasn't come around since they've been together but in reality wanda is just so happy that she's forgotten about everyone ?

Consumed By You

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem! Reader, Avengers x Fem! Reader

Summary: Wanda’s family think you don’t treat Wanda right…

Angst with Happy ending. 

Warnings: Hints of an abusive relationship? | 1.1K

AC: Thank you for sending this. I personally don’t like how somebody can just drop or ‘forget’ about their friends/family just because they’re dating somebody so this is a little angst and Wanda kinda gets a reality check. I hope you enjoy! 

It had been months since the compound was filled with the warm smell of freshly baked muffins that Wanda would often bake for the team. At first, it was understandable. She found somebody she really liked and wanted to spend more time with them. But as days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, Wanda’s family couldn’t let the thought that her absence was against her will. 

Natasha was the one to bring the issue to Wanda’s attention, sending her a flurry of frantic texts, trying not to scare the woman away. 

“They miss me” Wanda said, her voice soft as she looked up at her phone. Sitting on the sofa beside you, her head resting against your shoulder as you were reading a new book you had recently picked up. 

“You should go see them” you replied. Wanda sighed, remembering the last time she saw them. “I don’t know, I don’t think I want to hear about how the world is in danger yet again”

You finished reading the paragraph you were on before closing your book and gently placing a hand on her knee, “I think you should see them, baby” you said softly.

“I guess I could pop in for an hour tomorrow” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. 

You could hear the doubt in her voice, “how about I come with you” you suggested, “I mean, if you want” you added.

Wanda’s face lit up as she lifted her head to look at you, “Really? You want to come?”

“Yeah” you smiled softly, meeting her gaze, “this if your family” 

Wanda smiled before placing a soft kiss on your lips and texting Nat the news. 

The next day, you and Wanda arrived at the compound around midday. Her family greeted her with smiles and hugs, happy to finally see her after so long. You greeted the Avengers politely, even though you noticed the surprised looks from Steve and the deep glaring gaze from Natasha, you tried to ignore it for Wanda’s sake but deep down, you didn’t feel very welcomed. 

Later, after conversations of catching up over pizza and Tony’s questionable cocktails, you watched Wanda from afar as she reconnected with those she called family. “So, Wanda tells me you’re quite the artist” Pepper smiled, taking a seat beside you, taking your attention away from Wanda. 

You chuckled lightly, “well, I wouldn’t say that. I like to make things sometimes” you turned to her. 

What you didn’t see was Wanda being whisked away by Nat, Clint and Steve. While you and Pepper spoke about your crafts and love for art, Wanda was confused by the three’s confusing words.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked sternly with a hint of worry in her voice. Wanda frowned with confusion, “yes, I’m fine” 

“Are you sure? Because you don’t have to leave with her today. We’ll keep you safe” Steve inserted, making Wanda even more confused as her eyes shifted to him. “What are you guys talking about? I’m fine?” She replied. 

“Wands, this is the first time in months we’ve seen you. You don’t come around anymore….we barely hear from you and when we do, its short and sweet” Natasha explained. 

“We’re just worried that Y/n is…well, keeping you from seeing others” Clint added. 

Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculous assumptions. “Y/n isn’t keeping me from seeing anybody, you can’t be serious right now” 

“We’re serious Wanda” Natasha replied, again in a stern tone. Her tone making Wanda look between the three Avengers, seeing they weren’t in the slightest joking. “Guys” she started, “Y/n is nothing but loving and supportive of me” she continues. 

“We see how she treats you and little she seems to engage. It feels a little…dismissive” Steve confessed.

Wanda’s heart clenched. “She isn’t dismissive” she defended, “it’s just she’s a little quieter than others. She’s not expressive like everybody else, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care”

“Maybe not to you…but from the outside” Clint trailed off. 

“You’ve barely seen her! You don’t know her” Wanda argued. 

Natasha stepped forward, not wanting the argument to get too heated. “We’re just worried. You seem distant and like you’ve completely forgotten about us. You met her and suddenly you were gone. I think you can see where we are coming from” 

Wanda sighed heavily, seeing how her relationship looked to her family. “I promise you, it’s not like what you’re thinking. I just, I’ve just been so happy that I didn’t want to come here and have that dawning feeling that it could be taken away from me” she started. “I didn’t mean for this to hurt you all” she added. 

“You deserve to be happy, Wanda. You deserve the world” Steve said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “but the world isn’t Y/n” he added. 

“You can’t just cut everybody out, even if you are happy” Clint said, “we’re your family. We’re here for you, always. Even if you’re in a relationship. We want to know her, we want to be a part of your life too” he went on.

A wave of guilt washed over Wanda, she’d been so consumed in you and her feelings for you that she didn’t realize that her excuses for neglecting to enjoy life outside of her relationship was turning those closest to her. “I understand” she said, her voice sincere. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been fair, and I don’t want you all to keep this image that Y/n is a bad partner because she is so far from that. I want you guy to see how wonderful she is” 

Nat smiled softly at her friend, “then allow us that. We want to know how great she is but she can’t do that if you close us out” 

Wanda nodded softly, “I know….how about we start with a weekly dinner?” She offered. The three standing before her smiled, “sounds like a great start” Steve said. 

The talk wasn’t easy, and it left Wanda feeling a bit exposed, but she knew deep down they were right. She had a life beyond you, but she was so scared that life would take you from her. As she walked out with Nat, Clint & Steve behind her, she saw you laughing with Pepper. The image in front of her made her smile as she wandered over to you. 

“What did I miss?” Wanda asked softly, taking a seat beside you. 

“Y/n was just telling me a story about the two you” Pepper smiled softly, 

“Yeah, remember that time you made me try some of those ridiculous TikTok filters?” You looked to your partner, giving her a soft smile. Wanda nodded, the memory flashing through her mind, “wait until I show the others the screenshots” she chuckles. 

“Don’t you dare!” Your eyes widen. Something about her presence felt different but you didn’t want to question it. Wanda teased, pulling out her phone as she broke into a laughter you haven’t heard in a very long time. 

“Oh, come on baby, the world show see these!” She laughed. “Please, it’s the last thing the world needs!” You laughed along with her.

Taglist: @noturlondonboy | @deathbylesbianwitches | @yelenaslyubov | @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow | @jsonebraincell | @boredandneedfanfics | @red1culous | @jooseboxxe | @starrycherie | @torihobby1226 | @filmedbyharkness | 

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

[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.

[howdoyousleep3]

Pairing: 3DWD/Bunny Baby Rating: Mature Word Count: 2.7K Tags: Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Power Dynamics, New Relationship, Confession of Feelings, Origin Story, Groping, Office "Sex", Orgasm Denial, Teasing, Age Difference, Size Kink, Yearning (oh the yearning, the chase!) A/N: Woke up one morning thinking about them, couldn't stop myself from pouring it all out into a doc. I don't think about their beginnings enough. I hope you enjoy. ❤️

Bucky suspects something is amiss when he feels more eyes on him than he’s used to as he walks into the office after lunch. 

Truthfully, he’s used to eyes on him wherever he goes, but he’s not used to the silence. 

Hmm. 

He carries on down the hallway towards his office, unbothered yet curious. He quickly stops to check in with Pepper, confirming their outing with their newest client to the nearby fabric district. Bucky is grateful she seems as excited as she is; it’s always thrilling to take on a new client and start a project from the ground up. 

He turns and heads towards his office, fully intending on spending the next hour he has before their outing ensuring his deliveries and meeting times at the Romanoff house later tonight are squared away, when he stops in his tracks. 

The second and final clue that something is amiss. 

He’s embarrassed to admit it, to recognize it. 

Steve is here. 

Bucky can smell him. That overwhelming and intoxicating smell of masculinity, of ruggedness. Cinnamon, sandalwood, citrus; it drives Bucky insane that he can’t pinpoint what the notes are. Steve has claimed he doesn’t wear a cologne. Bucky calls bullshit. 

Nobody smells that good, naturally and without any help. 

Nobody. 

The smell of Steve in his office building, on his floor, nearby, immediately puts him on edge. He wills his knees to keep him upright even when his body and mind want to cave immediately. There’s no way Steve is here. Bucky must be imagining it, his subconsciousness conjuring up the smell in his mind in order to distract him, in order to force Bucky to think of Steve when he’s convinced himself he doesn’t want to. 

No, he won’t be distracted by a crush, by a one-night-stand. 

He reaches for his keys, opens his office door with ease— 

And nearly falls to the floor. 

Steve is here. In his office, standing at his office window seemingly admiring the view of the city just outside it. 

What is Steve doing here? More importantly, how did he get into Bucky’s office? 

When Steve turns to look at him, expression riddled with proud mischievousness, Bucky immediately takes pause. He can’t let Steve think he has the upper hand even though he’s surprised Bucky at his place of work. He can’t let Steve’s sweet talking ways and his rugged sex appeal chip away at Bucky’s self-control and boundaries. 

This is unacceptable. 

But Christ, Steve looks good. 

He looks better than good— he looks sexy as hell. 

His beard is neatly trimmed, his hair infuriatingly windswept. He looks as if he’s come off the farm after a long day's work: well-worn jeans, a navy blue henley that clings to the bulk in his arms, a pair of reliable boots. A leather bomber jacket with a sherpa collar is tossed carelessly across one of the chairs opposite of Bucky’s desk. The ensemble’s sticker price would send Bucky reeling into a coma, but one would never know it. 

He’s certain Steve doesn’t even know how much his clothes cost and that’s because he doesn’t care. He doesn’t have to care. And the thought of Steve not caring about price tags is enough to ratchet up the arousal Bucky is trying uselessly to ignore. 

Stay strong. 

“Hey, Bunny…” 

Fuck. 

Bucky’s willpower clings to its existence. 

Bucky takes a deep breath, steps into his office, and closes the door behind him. He ignores Steve’s pet name for him even though it digs under his skin in the hottest of ways. Nobody has ever given him a pet name. Bucky doesn’t do pet names, is too strong-willed and confident for them. No partner has ever babied him or given him sweet names or worshipped the ground he walks on. 

Steve did it from the moment they locked eyes. 

Bucky sends out feelers for his willpower, questions if it even exists when it comes to Steve. 

“What are you doing here?” is all Bucky can damn near choke out. He steels his spine and walks to his desk, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. 

When he chances a glance up and over at Steve, he nearly whimpers. Fuck, he’s so sexy, Bucky can barely stand to look at him. 

Steve shrugs. 

“I was in the area, thought I’d stop by.” 

A lie, one that Bucky can call him out on. 

“No you weren’t. There’s nothing around here that would interest you.” 

Steve chuckles and the noise goes right to Bucky’s groin. 

“You interest me,” he says matter of factly, pushing away from the window. “Thought I made that pretty clear, Buck.” 

Bucky swallows audibly, makes a show of turning his computer on. 

Yeah, pretty fucking clear. The older man has all but professed his love for Bucky, sent him endless gift deliveries, whispered his affection and awe into Bucky’s skin, laid himself bare and—

Stop. 

No sex, don’t think about sex with Steve, god. 

“How’d you get in here?” Bucky presses, ignoring the hot press of Steve’s presence against the line of his back.

He can sense Steve’s easy grin even if he doesn’t chance another look up at him. 

“I sweet talked my way in. I’m pretty good at sweet talkin’. Ain’t that right, Bun?” 

He doesn’t think Steve understands the power of his sweet talking ways, even as he jokes about it. 

Bucky thinks he’s sweating, can feel the drops of it pooling in the curve of his lower back, can feel it on his upper lip. It’s embarrassing. He can command a boardroom, lead a design team, walk confidently through rooms, homes, exhibits he himself has designed. He’s confident, overly so, is bossy and demanding and overbearing. 

And here he is crumbling under the mere words of Steve Rogers, a man ten years his senior who has been relentlessly chasing after him ever since their first date. 

This is what Bucky gets for sleeping with Steve on their first date. But fuck, who could blame him? 

Bucky feels as if he’s going into heat. 

When Bucky turns to admittedly flee from his office and demand security come take Steve from it, he runs right into the familiar wall of packed muscle. The older man doesn’t even hesitate; he grabs onto Bucky confidently and purposefully. 

“It’s easy to get what I want, Buck. I’m a man who’s used to getting what he wants,” Steve murmurs, a mitt for a hand cupping the back of Bucky’s head, the second pulling Bucky snugly against his front by his lower back. 

When their bodies meet, sex is all Bucky can think about. 

“That’s why I’m so frustrated with how difficult it’s been to get the thing I want most,” Steve tells him, his voice taking on a gravely edge that damn near sends Bucky under. “I appreciate a good chase, I love good back and forth. But goddamnit, Buck— what the fuck are you makin’ me wait around for?” 

Bucky feels the burn of shame in the form of a blush build on his neck.

The thing is, Bucky doesn’t have a good answer and he’s ironically afraid to admit that he’s scared. This isn’t traditional, this isn’t normal, what he shares with Steve. Their age difference is surely to be frowned upon, Steve’s position as a CEO will surely make it seem to others as if Bucky is just wanting into his pockets. 

More prevalent and more difficult to admit is that Bucky’s not used to Steve’s treatment of him. 

He doesn’t think he’s deserving of Steve’s treatment. He doesn’t know what to do with his attention and his affection and the way he wants to surround Bucky with an endless flow of devotion. 

Steve’s fingers tighten in his hair and Bucky all but moans, bringing his hands up to curl his fingers into the front of Steve’s shirt. He wants to curl his lips up in a snarl when his fingers find their way into the fuzz just underneath said shirt. 

“I won’t have you denying us something good because you want to be stubborn. I won’t have you stopping us from having each other because you’re afraid.”

Bucky does what he does best when he’s backed into a corner— push. 

“I don’t want you,” he weakly attempts, the words making his gut churn and his throat burn, his body rejecting them immediately. 

Steve smiles, crowds Bucky further against his desk. 

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, Bunny,” he turns and whispers into Bucky’s ear, their bodies curling tightly together. Steve easily pulls Bucky into him, a hand on his nape and now an arm around his lower back, reminding Bucky what Steve does to his body. 

Just the presence of Steve, the press and bend of their bodies together, does something to Bucky that he’s never experienced with someone else. 

When Steve squeezes at his nape, pulling Bucky’s attention upwards, the older man’s exhale sounds like a groan. 

Bucky’s vision blurs when he feels Steve’s growing and impressive erection dig into his belly. 

“You’ll learn not to lie to your Daddy over time,” Steve tells him, breath hot on Bucky’s mouth. The title goes right to Bucky’s own growing erection, arousal shooting through his body hot like lightning, his mouth dropping open to let a whine easily slip out. 

“You may try to lie to me now, but your pretty little body can’t lie to me, oh no. Sweetheart, your body can’t lie to me. Just look at’chu…”

Bucky is finding it more and more difficult to remember why he’s spent weeks denying Steve another chance with him. Steve’s hands feel like magic on his body, like Bucky can drop the facade and feel. And once Bucky’s eyes lock with Steve’s ocean ones, they drive that point home even further— 

Let go. 

Unsurprisingly, Steve sees the internal waver. 

“There he is,” Steve coos, deliciously pursing his lips around Bucky’s bottom one. “There’s who I’ve been chasing.”

Steve presses another hot kiss to his mouth, Bucky’s knees buckling. 

“Who I’m done chasing.” 

Another long and hot kiss that Bucky helplessly moans into this time. 

“Who I want.”

Just when Steve dips his tongue into the next set of kisses he gives Bucky, he trails his lips down the column of Bucky’s neck, sucking his way down it. Bucky doesn’t even fight the way his eyes roll back into his head.

“Want is an understatement— I’m damn near obsessed. You may be afraid to show your true feelings or give into this, but I’m not, Bun. I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. Everything I do in a day I wonder what it would be like to do it with you by my side. When I go to sleep, I want you there. When I wake up, I want you there.” 

“Steve…” 

“When I touch my cock, I want you there. Fuck, do I want you and your tight, little bunny ass there.” 

It’s as if he’s lost all sense of himself as Bucky hears those words. He curls his fingers around Steve’s thick neck at the same time he moves to wind his legs mindlessly around Steve’s stocky waist. He knows Steve will hold him, that Daddy won’t let him fall, and he’s proven right when Steve does just that with a heavy exhale. He gathers Bucky easily up into his hands, obviously appreciating the feel and weight of Bucky in them, before sitting him on top of his own desk. 

“Christ, I miss you, Buck,” he tells him in between kisses, hands holding onto either side of Bucky’s face. “Tell me you miss me too, baby.” 

Bucky’s moan grates against the front of his throat. 

“I miss you,” Bucky murmurs, reaching for Steve’s tongue with his own. “I miss you so much, Daddy.” 

Steve groans into Bucky’s mouth. 

“Fuck yeah, missed that. Missed the hell outta that. Lemme hear it again, Bun.”

Easily, eagerly.

“Daddy…” 

Bucky lets out every ounce of pent up want and need he’s been ignoring over the past weeks and pours it into that word. He digs his fingers into Steve’s shirt, yanking at it until his hands meet the warm skin of his stomach, pulling at the older man until Bucky’s hands slide easily around to his muscled back.

Steve’s skin is so shockingly warm it forces another moan out of Bucky’s throat.

As someone who runs cold, he misses that warmth. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ brat,” Steve mumbles between kisses before he’s smirking. “We’re gonna have so much fun together.” 

Bucky is more than ready to let Steve fuck him on his own desk, in his own office. The thrill of being chased by someone he’s so wildly attracted to combined with the surprise of him showing up at Bucky’s office to confess his feelings has Bucky feeling like a live wire. His dick is so hard his balls ache, Steve’s hands on his body coaxing noises of pleasure out of him that others are sure to hear. 

If they saw Steve walk in though, they shouldn’t be surprised by what’s happening in here. 

He turns his cheek and bites at Steve’s bearded jawline, reaching for the older man’s belt buckle, fingers digging into his zipper to feel the pushback against the metal. 

“You got a party tonight?” 

Bucky is too distracted by the feel of Steve’s thick cock beneath the denim of his jeans to register his question. 

It’s a bite on Bucky’s own chin that pulls him back into his brain. 

“What?”

“Don’t you have a Christmas party tonight?” 

“How…how do you know about that?” 

Steve’s teeth catch Bucky’s bottom lip between them. Bucky’s toes curl in his dress shoes. 

“Pepper told me about it.”

Of course she did. 

“I’ll pick you up at 8.” 

What? 

Bucky’s vision may be blurred, but he’s certain Steve is pulling away, suddenly widening the gap between them. His dick aches something fierce between his legs, yearning for Steve’s touch, Steve’s mouth, Steve. 

“What?” Bucky asks, unable to hide his breathlessness, running a hand down and over his mouth. 

Steve’s reached his jacket now and he turns to Bucky, slipping his arms into it. 

He barely looks affected by their office rendezvous at all. 

“I’ll pick you up at eight at your place. Make sure you pack a bag; you’re comin’ home with me tonight.”

Bucky resists the urge to collapse back onto his desk. 

“Are you…are you insane?” Bucky huffs, doing nothing to disguise his annoyance at being left in his office to deal with his own erection. He watches through half-lidded eyes as Steve walks back over to him, stepping between Bucky’s spread legs and reaching for his throat. 

“You thought I’d come in here, profess my love, and give you my cock?” 

Bucky’s neck goes lax at the word love, but he curls his lip anyway. 

“Yes?” 

Steve chuckles happily into his last set of smacking kisses before squeezing at the fingers around Bucky’s throat. 

Fuck. 

“Daddy’s got a lot to teach you.” 

He gives Bucky’s cheek a light smack. 

“You make sure and wear somethin’ pretty for me, you hear?”

Bucky doesn’t argue. His heart slams against his ribs. He hears Steve at the door of his office. 

“I’ll have what I want you to wear underneath it sent over.” 

Bucky not-so-slowly collapses backwards onto his desk, chest falling and rising rapidly, dick throbbing in time with it. 

“I’ll see you soon, Bun. Don’t ignore my calls.” 

And just as surprisingly as he showed up, Steve’s gone, leaving Bucky a damn near hyperventilating mess atop his once pristine desk. 

With too much to think about, Bucky focuses on settling his breathing, on easing the ache in his dick without the time or place to take care of himself. When the absurdity of the situation hits him, when the full force of his crush on Steve makes him kick his feet where he lies, Bucky giggles. 

And once he starts, he can’t stop. 

Steve was right— they’re going to have so much fun together.

[sameatsfunions]

Day 7 of a steddie Halloween.

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

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

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.”

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

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

[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

steve harrington taglist: @theweasleyslut @starjane312 @the-romanian-is-bae @lillsxd @jemimah-b99 @heavcnslyre @xitsyaiizax @magicalxdaydream @timeladygallifrey @cadencebeat2662 @jamespotterslover @whoreou @mariecoded @suranne-doesstuff @hehehehannahthings @alexwritesthingssometimes @unic0rntaking0ver17645 @wecallhimbrowneyess @erospecies @pariahsparadise @alexxavicry @imabee-oralizard @bluesongbird @1-800-isabellapotter @ajordan2020 @g4ys0n @sunshine-daisies-library @tsaidelrey @moonlightsgirl

taglist form!

[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!!