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#Steve we know you want his attention all to yourself
littlexdeaths · 2 days
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strange love - s.h.
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king steve harrington x loser fem reader
everybody wants to know, if we fucked on the bathroom sink…
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: underage drinking (everyone is 18+), mean!dom steve, steve is a major asshole, public sex, light degradation kink, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, steve makes reader cry, some good ole’ angst
a/n: this is a reworking of my first steeb fic i ever wrote on my old account. i hope you enjoy xx. and thank you to @stveharringtn for looking this over and hyping me up. ily cherry 💕
based on strange love by halsey
word count: 2.4k
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You shouldn’t have come to this stupid party.
And you wouldn’t have, if Steve hadn’t practically begged you to make an appearance. It was only going to lead to more heartbreak for you, having to watch him flirt with every girl in the room. The night would end with you going home alone, wondering why you weren’t good enough to be on his arm.
Despite all that you go anyway, your heart severely outweighing the logical side of your brain. You even made sure to wear your best dress, hoping it would capture his attention. But the male didn’t glance your way the entire night, and you felt utterly defeated.
Why you didn’t leave after an hour of being ignored is beyond you, a small part of you still holding out hope. Leaning against a wall in the hallway you watch with disdain as your classmates drunkenly grind on each other. It was one of the last parties of the summer before college classes started, and everyone seemed to be making the most of it.
Everyone except for you.
“This was a stupid idea,” you mumble to yourself, glancing down at your drink with a deep sigh. Swirling the now lukewarm beer around in your cup, no longer interested in people watching. Drunken laughter pulls you from your sulking, watching in utter annoyance as Tommy attempts a keg stand in the middle of the living room.
A large crowd has surrounded him, giving you the perfect opportunity to find Jonathan and leave.
However, feeling a piece of paper being slipped into your hand stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes searching for the source of the note. A familiar flutter starts in your lower belly as you catch sight of him, the male now halfway up the stairs. You quickly unravel the crumpled page to find a few words written in his messy script.
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You immediately crumple the note in your palm, downing the rest of your beer before you make your way up to the second floor. Despite the large and somewhat confusing layout, you navigated the dark halls with ease. As you knew the male's house far too well now, having found yourself in his bed more times than you liked to admit.
This wasn’t supposed to happen like this, it was only meant to be a one time thing. To get back at your cheating asshole of an ex-boyfriend, Troy. After finding him tangled in the sheets with Vicki Carmichael at a party quite similar to this one. All because you weren’t ready to have sex with him. As much as it stung, a bigger part of you was incredibly relieved.
Something never fully cliqued with him, and deep down you didn’t want him to be your first. Troy and Steve were very good friends, and played basketball together. So it seemed fitting to ask Steve to be the one to take your virginity. Telling yourself it would royally piss Troy off, knowing you’d give it up to Steve and not him. But the truth is you’d always secretly had a thing for Steve for years.
That was your real reason, not that you’d ever admit it.
Steve was more than happy to fulfill your wish, not knowing your motive behind it. But what neither of you expected was that he would keep coming back for more. Once he had a taste of you, he couldn’t get enough. You had him wrapped around your finger, without even realizing it. However you both made a promise to keep the whole thing a secret, any plans of revenge now being thrown out the window.
Now that you weren’t dating Troy you had gone back to your quiet loser status, which you much preferred anyway. But Steve couldn’t have that ruining his reputation, so instead of arguing you went along with it. Agreeing to a secret friend with benefits relationship, despite knowing you’d want more. Feelings aside it didn’t stop you from hooking up with him multiple times a week, which brings you back to the present.
Your breathing was labored, partially due to the hand covering your mouth. You could hear the bass of the music from outside the bathroom door, so there was no need to be extra quiet.
But with Steve it was a necessity… especially in such a public place. Where anyone could press their ear to the door and figure out what was happening.
You found yourself bent over the bathroom sink, Steve fucking into you with such a ferocity it made your knees wobble. He had barely let the bathroom door shut before he was on you, tugging your panties down your legs. Tugging his shirt over his head, not bothering to take off his jeans in his impatience to have you.
“God you’re such a little tease you know that? Wearing this fucking dress, getting me all worked up.” He growled in your ear, whimpering against his hand as he pounds into your soaked heat.
The male is gripping your hip so hard you know he’ll leave bruises behind, but the harsh action only turns you on more. Knowing how desperate he was to have you, made you putty in his strong hands. Your own hand drifts between your thighs, finding your bundle of nerves and encircling it with your fingertips.
Glancing into the mirror in front of you, you watch his face as he continues to ram himself inside you. His honey brown hair sticks to his forehead, no longer styled in the perfect swoop he had it in before you entered the bathroom. His dark eyes meet yours in the reflection, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watches you intensely.
“Hm, look at how pathetic you look honey… letting me use you like a whore.” He grunts, leaning in closer and tugging on your earlobe with his teeth, “But you like that don’t you? You like being my whore?”
You find yourself nodding, unable to speak. Partially due to the hand still covering your mouth, but you knew even if it wasn't there it wouldn’t have made much difference. The male had fucked any logical thoughts from you at that point.
But you can’t deny the way your body reacts to his words, your walls tightening around him at the mere mention of belonging to him… and him alone. Something Steve doesn’t miss either.
“That’s cute baby…” he chuckles, letting his lips graze along the exposed skin of your throat. “Glad she knows exactly who she belongs to.”
Tears of pleasure blur your vision, mascara streaming freely down your cheeks. Your fucked out reflection stares back at you as he continues to pound into you from behind. Hooded eyes drift to gaze at him once more, seeing how his mouth falls open in a moan as you continue to pulse around his cock.
His sun kissed skin was beautifully flushed, his days spent as a lifeguard at Hawkin’s community pool were treating him extremely well. It made you want nothing more than to leave a trail of dark bruises along his freckled neck— effectively marking him as yours.
But you knew that couldn’t happen, he wouldn’t allow it. His reputation as the town’s local biggest player was far more important to him than you could ever be. At least that’s what he wanted you to believe.
You watch in awe as his head tilts back, exposing more of his throat to you. His adam’s apple bobs as he moans, fighting the urge to push him against the wall and taste the sweat that’s coating his skin in a glossy sheen.
Steve just looked so pretty like this, on the edge of release. While you had witnessed it many times now— part of you still was so mesmerized by him.
You can feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you, continuing to rub your clit faster. You cry out against his hand, the whimper of his name now muffled by his palm. Your eyes nearly roll back as your orgasm crashes over you. But Steve doesn’t let up his pace, your knees almost buckling as he fucks into you harder.
“I know you can cum harder than that honey, do. it. again.” He growls lowly in your ear, dropping his hand away from your mouth.
Quickly knocking your own out of the way to continue rubbing your overly sensitive clit. You’d barely come down from your first high before he had you hurtling towards another one, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with acute precision.
Your eyes meet once more in the reflection, a cocky expression crosses over his features as you feel yourself falling over the edge again. Gripping the counter with both hands, biting down harshly on your lower lip to stop the scream that wants to escape your lungs.
In your euphoric state you don’t notice the way Steve’s eyes watch you possessively, pride filling his chest knowing he’s the only man who has ever seen you like this. The only man to ever make you feel this way, and he planned on keeping it that way. Selfish as it was.
The blissed out look on your face is the thing that finally breaks what little composure he had left. The male burying his face in the crook of your neck as he paints your inner walls with his release. Stilling his hips at your deepest point, in an attempt to keep his cum buried inside you.
Steve’s secret way of marking you as his.
As both of you attempt to catch your breath, the sounds of the party carry on as if nothing happened. When Steve finally releases your hips, you grip tighter onto the counter to support yourself. Knowing your knees were far too wobbly to keep you upright. A soft whimper leaves your lips as he slides out of you, suddenly feeling empty. In more ways than one.
The male is quick to tuck himself back into his jeans, roughly pulling your panties up your legs. You can feel his cum beginning to pool in the lacy material, the dirtiness of it makes your body feel hot. You let out a shaky breath, turning to face him as he finishes tucking his polo back into his levi’s.
“Wait a few minutes before you come back downstairs, yeah?” Is all he says before he’s slipping out of the bathroom, running a hand through his tousled locks.
The door closes softly, and that familiar feeling of shame washes over you again. You shouldn’t be surprised by it at this point, as your little hookups always ended the same way.
With Steve thoroughly pleased with himself, and you all alone.
You can’t stop the moisture from flooding your vision, carefully sitting down on the edge of the tub. Gripping the hem of your dress in your fists as you ruin whatever makeup was still left behind. Shoulders shaking as silent sobs rack through your chest.
In that moment you made a promise to yourself, you wouldn’t let any man— especially someone like Steve fucking Harrington make you feel this way again. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.
You continue to let the traitor tears fall for a while before returning to your feet. Glancing back in the mirror you barely recognized yourself, your usual bright eyes were dull, bloodshot and puffy. The little makeup you had done was now smeared across your cheeks. With a frustrated sigh you attempt to collect yourself before returning to the party.
Cleaning the black streaks from your face, adjusting your rumpled dress until you looked somewhat presentable. Taking a deep breath you finally leave the safety of the bathroom, descending the carpeted stairs on shaky legs. No one pays you any mind as you make your way back into the sea of people.
But what you find in the living room feels like a punch straight to the gut.
Steve is on the couch, another girl already straddling his lap with her tongue down his throat. His large hands that were previously gripping onto your hips were now splayed across her bare thighs. Inching higher and higher up as she tangles her fingers in his hair. You can only stand to watch for a moment longer before bolting out of the room and into the kitchen in search of another drink.
Thankfully the room was almost empty, except for a familiar brunette who was sipping on a can of Pepsi. You don’t say anything to him, grabbing an open bottle of vodka off the counter and bringing the rim to your lips. Enjoying the familiar burn as you greedily gulp down the clear liquid at an alarming fast rate.
Jonathan looks at you concerned, immediately rushing to your side in an attempt to grab the bottle from you. You quickly dodge him, shoving him away with a dirty look.
“Jonny stop! I’m having fun, see?” You roll your eyes before dramatically taking another large swig. Your best friend had seen you drink plenty of times before, but never like this. He knew you well enough to know there was clearly something wrong.
Before you can go back in for another drink he grips onto the base of the bottle, wrestling it from you with a grimace. Before slamming it back onto the counter, making you wince slightly at the sound of the impact.
“That’s enough now. I think I should take you home.”
His tone is stern, but laced with worry. You find yourself pouting in response, a small hiccup leaving you as he sighs. The only reason Jonathan was even here in the first place was to be your ride, he hated these parties. And he especially hated Steve Harrington.
But he was your best friend, and he would’ve done anything for you. And right now anything consists of getting you home before you do something stupid, “Fine dad… take me home then.”
Jonathan rolls his eyes at your childish behavior before wrapping his arm around your waist to help guide you through the house to the front door. The vodka you had just chugged was definitely starting to take effect, as you stumbled alongside him. Now suddenly a lot more grateful for his help.
What you don’t notice in your tipsy state was a pair of honey eyes watching you both from across the room, jaw clenched in jealousy as Jonathan helps you out into the warm summer night.
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Steve's most used word in MCU is Tony
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That's such a husband thing to do
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mrsbarnesblog · 3 months
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Tattoo
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader
Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.
Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘
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“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 
“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 
You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 
“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 
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You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 
But you were so wrong. 
As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 
“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 
“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.
"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 
“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 
Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 
Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 
Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 
He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 
He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 
“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 
And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 
You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.
You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 
“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 
“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 
Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.
You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 
To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 
“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 
“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 
“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”
Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.
“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.
“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”
“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 
"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 
Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 
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“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 
“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 
“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”
“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”
You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 
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The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 
You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 
“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 
“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 
“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”
“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 
“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.
“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 
“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 
Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 
You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 
“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.
“No!”
“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 
“I can do it myself!” 
You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 
Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 
“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.
Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 
He was good at it. 
No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 
“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.
You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 
God, he must be big. 
Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 
“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.
“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.
"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 
Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 
Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 
“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 
“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 
“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"
Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 
“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 
“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”
“Loosers.” 
“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”
“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.
“Okay.”
Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.
With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 
Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 
Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 
“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 
"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 
You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 
The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 
“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 
You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 
You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 
“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 
“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 
"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 
“I do.” 
Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 
Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 
Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 
Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 
“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 
With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 
“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  
“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 
“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 
“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 
When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 
He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 
Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 
“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.
“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 
“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”
“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 
“Good fucking girl.” 
Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 
You both felt how close you were. 
Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.
“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 
“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 
“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.
Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…
“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”
“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 
“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 
“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 
“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 
3K notes · View notes
inkedbybarnes · 3 days
Text
unclear
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.
i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this one, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!
dividers by @cafekitsune!
reblogs, likes, and comments are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡
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“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?'
wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.
although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.
"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"
"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.
"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."
you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.
but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.
"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"
wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.
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the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.
although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.
after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.
considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.
he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.
"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.
"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"
you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.
your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.
"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"
"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"
before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."
and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."
you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.
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you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.
it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.
"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"
"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."
"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"
friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.
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your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.
with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.
your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.
"ah, fuck."
you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.
"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"
you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"
your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.
"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"
"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"
"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."
"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."
"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."
"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."
oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.
"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."
you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.
"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."
"bucky..."
"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."
"even if i ask for your arm?"
he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"
"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.
"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."
his girl. you loved hearing that.
"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.
"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"
"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."
"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."
"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.
"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"
you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"
he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."
your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.
"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."
bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"
you smiled. "like the old times."
in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.
"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.
"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."
"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.
"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."
bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.
and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.
a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.
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schoopsahoy · 1 year
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more than just friends
steve harrington x female!reader {3.1k} you and your best friend have gotten into the habit of making out, as long as there's no touching. but that's easier said than done. no use of y/n, not proofread 18+ mdni
cw: mutual masturbation, unprotected p in v sex
No touching.
That was the rule that you and Steve had settled on, because making out with your best friend is totally okay as long as there’s no touching. Sure, a hand on a waist or a cheek is alright - anything more is off limits. 
Your rule worked fine at first, but recently the two of you seem to keep pushing the boundary. Just a little each time - like the way you’ll leave hickies on each other and not make much of an attempt to hide them, or how Steve has you underneath him with a leg in between your thighs and there’s just enough pressure to make your head a little dizzy. 
His mouth is kissing softly against the lilac bruise he’s left under your jaw, and you’re having to use all your self control to not press yourself down against his leg for the friction your body is craving. You feel so tightly wound, the fact you know it can’t go any further only makes you crave it more, your stomach in knots and heart pounding in your chest. 
“Steve.” It comes out as a whine, all desperate and you’d probably be embarrassed if it were anyone else who was kissing down your neck. You only get a hum as a response, Steve too focused on marking up your skin to realize you weren’t just saying his name as some encouragement. “Steve.” You’re a little firmer this time, voice not as breathy as before and it’s enough to finally bring his attention back to your face.
“Hm, what? Y’wanna stop?” His lips are all slick and swollen from his work on your throat, pupils a little blown as he stares down at you. He pushes some of your hair out of your face, loose strands that he can tuck behind your ear and the gentle act only has you aching more, the coil in your stomach twisting that bit tighter.
“No, no.” You breathe your words out, eyes closing as you almost laugh at the suggestion. “S’like, the opposite of what I want.” 
Steve’s still stroking mindlessly at your hair, all soft and without a second thought. “You want more hickies?” His brow pinches with confusion, face a little scrunched up and you hate that all you can think about is how cute he is, how much you want him. “‘Cause I can do that, but y’might get in trouble at work.” 
“No, not that.” You sigh, pressing your lips together as you battle with yourself over saying what you actually mean. “I want more, y’know?” 
“More?” He watches you nod below him, cheeks all flushed and you can’t hold his gaze. “What, like you wanna get off?” His voice is a little teasing, a grin tugging on his lips as you try to hide your face with your hands. 
“God, I d’know.” You groan, suddenly all shy even though you know you don’t have to be. “I guess, maybe, yeah.” Steve taps your arms, a silent signal for you to uncover your face and you do, reluctantly. “I know we said no touching, but like, I feel like I’m gonna explode or somethin’.” You try to cover how serious you are with a laugh, hoping it’ll make it easier to play off if Steve completely shuts you down. 
“I mean, there’s ways around that.” The way Steve’s smiling at you has your stomach doing somersaults. 
“There is?”
“Sure, if you really want to.” He leans down to press a kiss on your lips, something small and barely there that has you chasing his mouth for more when he pulls away. “D’you want to?”
“Don’t be a dick, Steve.” You whine, head tipping back because of course he’s dragging it on, drawing it out of you as if you’re not already so tightly wound that you feel like you might snap any second. “Go on then, what's your loophole?”
“We can just get ourselves off, together.” He shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
You feel like your body is pressing harder into your mattress now, like gravity suddenly got stronger and you’re stuck in your spot with no way to move and Steve is looking down at you with his big brown eyes and a smirk tugging at his lips. You think your skin must be hot to the touch at this point, your temperature climbing and climbing because you’re about to get off with your best friend. You kind of wish you weren’t sober right now, craving the liquid confidence that comes with the buzz from a couple of drinks. 
“Yeah, okay.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, looking up at Steve through your lashes suddenly all shy but the way he’s looking at you, all fondness and lust and like he’s been craving this too, makes you feel a little more confident. 
As soon as you say the words, his lips are back on yours. It’s all hot and heavy with the way he’s licking into your mouth, different to how he usually kisses you - a little dirty and it’s enough to rip the air from your lungs and have you panting whenever he pulls away.
“Don’t be shy, baby, it’s just us.” He whispers against your lips, breath tickling your skin and the way he calls you baby has your hairs standing on end. He takes one of your hands in his own, guiding it down your body towards your already wet core. “You got it, just relax.” He coos, only moving his hand once you take the step and dip yours beneath your pyjama shorts. 
You start slow, lazy circles rubbed over your panties because you’re still a little shy with it all. Steve’s placing soft kisses all over your face and neck, mumbling words of encouragement as he palms at himself through his sweatpants. Neither of you brave enough to shed any clothing yet, because sure you’ve been friends for years and spent countless summer days by Steve’s pool wearing far less but this was different. 
You try to stifle your moans by biting down on your bottom lip, a little whimper trying to escape each time you brush over your clit and Steve can see the way your chest hitches as you try to control it. 
“Y’don’t have to be shy, not with me.” He nudges his nose against yours, voice all soft and all you can manage is to nod wordlessly at him as he sits up to pull his shirt over his head. He tosses it to your bedroom floor, not that you saw where it went because you can’t stop staring at him - the way his muscles move with each motion, skin all tanned from the summer sun and you really, really hate your no touching rule now. 
You squeeze your eyes shut before wriggling out of your own top, it’s a little easier when you can pretend like your best friend isn’t watching your every move. You do, however, regret not wearing a bra because you’re suddenly feeling all too exposed and a little - or maybe a lot - self conscious. 
You go to try and cover yourself, one eye barely open to peer at Steve who’s looking at you like you’re the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re so hot.” His voice sounds spent, all breathy and strained and you suddenly feel a lot less exposed. If you weren’t already so hot with it all, you’re sure all your blood would be running to your cheeks. 
Your eyes travel down to watch Steve stroking himself beneath his sweatpants, still constrained by them and his boxers but you can see how hard he is and feel your core clenching around nothing just at the thought of him. 
It all seems to move so quickly once you start shedding clothes, like stripping back that layer has taken away all the shyness and uncertainty you felt and replaced it with some insatiable longing for something more, anything more. 
You finally dip beneath your panties, wet fabric cold against your skin as you run a finger through your slick, gathering it up before rubbing tight circles against your clit. You can’t help but whimper with it all, the way Steve’s looking at you as he touches himself and how sensitive you are already, body reacting to each touch like they’re laced with electricity. “Oh my god.” You tip your head back, blinking hard as you try to breathe through the way you can feel the pressure build up in your stomach.
“Jesus, fuck, y’look so good.” Steve’s kneeling in between your legs, his free hand against your cheek and thumb rubbing softly against your skin. “Y’gonna take those off for me?” He nods down to your shorts. “Gonna let me see you?”
“Fuck, Steve.” You mewl, eyes meeting his as you continue rubbing your clit. “Y’want that? Wanna watch me touch myself?” You’re not sure where this faux confidence has come from, because it even shocks you when you say it but the way Steve reacts - a deep groan of your name and his pace against himself increasing -  has your head spinning. 
“God, yeah, please, I want that.” You don’t need anymore encouragement, hands tugging your shorts and panties down your legs to be discarded to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You go to tug and Steve’s waistband, to even the playing field so you’re not the only one fully exposed, but hover your hand there because the lines are all blurred now and you don’t know what’s okay anymore. You think you might be a little bit fucked. “You wanna help me? Y’can do that, it’s okay.” 
His tones all soothing and his hand guides yours back to his sweatpants so you can pull them down his legs along with his boxers. You knew Steve was big, you’ve felt him get hard when you’ve been straddling him when you make out, but actually seeing him has you clenching around nothing again, your body desperate to be filled by something other than your own fingers. 
It’s all a little messy, because Steve’s leaning over you and kissing all down your neck and onto your chest and your hands keep knocking against each other as you both try to chase your highs. It’s driving you a little mad each time his hand bumps yours, so close to your cunt but never quite getting there, the frustration building in you as you dip a finger inside yourself in an attempt to get some sort of relief. 
Steve looks down between the two of you, watches you try to settle on a rhythm as you pump your finger into yourself and whine at how it’s never quite right. Like it’s just missing that spot that would finally send you tumbling over the edge, so close to being what you need but falling short each time. 
“Steve.” The way you say his name has him groaning again, because you sound so desperate and needy and his cock is so close to your cunt and God does he want to fuck you. Abandon all the boundaries you’ve spent so long obeying because you look so perfect underneath him and he just wants to look after you, make you feel good like he knows he can. “Please.” 
It’s like you don’t need to say anything more, he already knows what you’re asking for, what you want from him. “Please what, baby?” He gives you that stupid grin as he rubs the tip of his cock against your core, running it up and down your slick eliciting a whine from you each time it nudges your clit. 
“Want you.” You’re so wound up that you can barely force any words out, brain all muddled from how desperate you are to just be touched. “Want you to fuck me.” 
“Fuck, yeah, y’sure?” You just nod at him, eyes all wide and chest heaving and he can see the way you squirm with each movement he makes against you, so sensitive and wound up. “Y’gotta tell me, use your words.” 
“M’sure, Steve, please.” You’re practically begging now, blinking hard because you can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and you don’t want to cry but you’re just so needy and your body feels like it’s on fire with it all. 
Steve kisses your temple, thumb swiping under your eyes where the skins a little wet from the tears that are welling up. “Oh, honey, don’t cry, I’ve got you.” He hushes you, hand moving from your face to hold yours as he uses the other to line up against your entrance. “Gonna make you feel so good, yeah?” 
As soon as he starts to press into you, it’s like all the pent up energy inside your stomach is ready to release. The way his cock stretches you out, slow thrusts so it doesn’t hurt you too bad as he kisses you all soft and you find yourself thinking that this doesn’t really feel like you’re just friends messing about anymore. 
Your free hand finds purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into the skin and leaving little half moons there that’ll probably still be there in the morning. Your breath hitches in your chest with each thrust, a little whimper spilling from your mouth as Steve squeezes your hand. “Doin’ so good for me, takin’ me so well.” His words are whispered against your skin, and you feel him hum against it when he finally bottoms out inside you. 
He sits there for a moment, letting you adjust to him but he can feel you clenching you around him and it sends his head spinning a little. You rock your hips against him, your voice still caught in your throat so this is the best way you can think of to tell him to move. He seems to get it though, a small chuckle at your antsy movements before he starts to rock his hips into you. 
It’s still a slow pace, agonizingly so almost. Because you’re so tightly wound at this point, teetering on the edge just to be pulled back over and over and never quite get there. You don’t say anything though, don’t push for Steve to move faster or harder because he’s still holding your hand and mumbling praises into your neck over and over and it feels about as soft as fucking your best friend can. 
After a couple minutes he does quicken his thrusts, you still mewling underneath him each time the tip of his cock nudges the soft spot inside you that you can never quite reach yourself. His free hand hitches one of your legs up higher, fingers spread wide against the soft skin of your thigh so he can bring it up to his waist and get deeper inside you. 
“Jesus, Steve, feels so good.” You manage to mumble something out, words a little slurred from how tight your chest feels because you’re already so close and your heart is beating so hard you can almost hear it. “M’so close.” Everything you say comes out as a whine, not that you mean it to, but Steve likes it. Likes that it’s him who’s got you so blissed out. 
“Yeah? Y’gonna cum for me? Such a good girl.” He soothes, voice all sickly sweet but still a little filthy. He thrusts into you harder now, watching the way your back arches up off the bed for him when he gets real deep. When his fingers start rubbing against your clit you know you’re done for, the messy circles against your nerves and the way he’s buried so deep inside you and looking at you like you’re the only important thing in the world right now is all too much for you. 
“Fuckfuckfuck.” You moan as you feel the tether inside you finally snap, wound so tightly that when it finally releases it has you seeing white as you squeeze your eyes shut and grip onto Steve even harder than before. 
“You’re okay, I got you.” Steve keeps rocking his hips into you through your high, letting you squeeze his hand so tight that you would definitely feel bad about it if you weren’t so preoccupied. “So pretty for me, y’so perfect.” He keeps running his mouth with praises as he chases his own high, thrusts getting a little sloppy as he gets closer, feeling you squeeze him as you came enough to have him almost there already. “I’m so - fuck - m’so close, where should I cum?” He’s blinking hard to try and keep himself controlled enough to at least last until you tell him. 
You’re still trying, and failing, to catch your breath. Body still feeling like it’s charged with electricity, all your nerves on high alert as you try to come down from your climax whilst Steve still pounds into you. 
“M’on the pill.” You exhale, words barely audible over the sounds of Steve fucking into you. “Can cum inside, want you to.” 
“Fuckin’ hell.” Steve groans, head tucked into the crook of your neck as his movements become a little sloppier and fall out of rhythm as he reaches his own climax, hips stuttering as he whispers about how good you feel and how pretty you are as he spills inside you. 
He stays inside you after he’s finished, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath amidst pressing gentle kisses to your face. You don’t want to admit how much you like it, not just the fucking but the intimacy of it all. Your hands are still intertwined, fingers locked with each other and neither of you make any attempt to unhook them. 
“Think we did that wrong.” You mumble, a shy smile on your lips as Steve pauses his kisses to look at you. His eyes still look all dark and wide, thick lashes blinking slow at you as he grins, shaking his head. 
“Yeah, think the whole ‘no touching’ things kinda out the window now.” He glances down to where he’s still buried inside you, and despite everything it’s still enough to have you feeling all shy. “I don’t mind though, if you don’t.” He looks at you, eyes full of affection and a soft smile as he waits for you to answer. It’s always no pressure with Steve, never pushing you for anything or making you uncomfortable - you’re always his first priority. It makes your heart ache a little, in a good way. 
“I don’t mind.” It’s a roundabout way of expressing your feelings, neither of you pushing it any further right now because it’s enough. You know each other so well that you don’t need to say more, reading between the lines and letting things happen slowly. Maybe you’re not as fucked as you thought you were.
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kiwi-bitchez · 5 months
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Double Down, Triple Threat 
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Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader
Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 
Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 
Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.
Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together
A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I
"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.
"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 
"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 
"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."
"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."
"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 
Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 
Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 
"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."
"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 
If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 
He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."
"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 
Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 
But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 
Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 
"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."
"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."
"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'
"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"
"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 
"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."
"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."
"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."
"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 
He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 
"What's your drink?" he asks.
"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 
"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 
You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.
"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."
"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.
"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."
"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."
He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.
As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."
You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."
Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 
"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 
Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 
"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"
"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."
"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 
"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 
You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 
You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 
"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."
"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."
"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."
"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 
"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 
"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."
"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 
With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 
Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 
You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 
Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 
It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 
You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 
Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 
Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 
You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 
"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 
"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 
"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 
"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 
You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 
"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."
"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 
"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 
He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."
"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."
"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 
"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.
"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 
He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 
The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 
"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.
"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 
"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.
"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."
"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."
"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.
"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."
You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.
"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 
"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.
"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."
"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."
"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 
You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 
"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 
You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."
"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 
"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."
"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 
You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."
He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 
The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 
After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 
"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 
You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.
"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 
He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 
Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 
Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 
He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.
"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.
"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."
"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"
He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 
"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.
"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.
"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 
"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."
Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 
This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 
Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 
It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 
"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 
"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 
It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 
After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 
When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 
He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?
In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 
So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  
“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”
“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.
“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”
“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 
You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 
He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 
“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 
With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 
It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 
He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 
His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 
“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.
Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 
He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 
“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.
He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 
Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 
The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.
Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 
“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 
He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 
Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 
“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”
After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 
“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 
Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?
Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 
You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 
“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”
And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 
Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 
After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 
Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 
“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.
You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”
“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”
“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.
“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 
“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  
You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 
“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 
“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”
There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 
“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 
He understood, he hated how much he understood. 
“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 
“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”
“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”
“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”
“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”
“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’
He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 
You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 
“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 
He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 
A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 
The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 
You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 
You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 
He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 
“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”
“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 
“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.
“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.
“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”
You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 
“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 
“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”
He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 
He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.
He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 
When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 
A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 
The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 
“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“
He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 
“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.
“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 
“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”
With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 
“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”
“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”
You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 
“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.
“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 
You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 
He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 
“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 
“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 
“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 
“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 
“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”
You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 
“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”
You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 
You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 
“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”
It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 
“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”
“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“
“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”
You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.
He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 
As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 
“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 
He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 
“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 
You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 
As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 
“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 
His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.
Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 
Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 
He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 
“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 
When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.
You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”
He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 
“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 
The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.
“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 
“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 
He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 
As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 
Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”
Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 
He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 
He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”
Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 
“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 
“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 
“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“
“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”
Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 
It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 
“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”
Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 
Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.
The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 
The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 
His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 
“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”
You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 
You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 
He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 
“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”
“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”
Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 
After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 
“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”
“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 
An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 
You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 
A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 
“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 
A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 
You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 
You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 
Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.
“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”
His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 
“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 
“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”
“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”
“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”
“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”
“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”
“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.
“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.
“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 
“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 
“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”
“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”
“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”
“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 
“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 
“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 
“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”
“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.
“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”
Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 
“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”
“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”
His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 
“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 
“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 
The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.
Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 
“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.
“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”
“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”
“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”
“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”
“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”
“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”
He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 
Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 
As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 
“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.
“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”
“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 
“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 
“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”
“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 
“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”
As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 
He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 
You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 
After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.
“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.
“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 
“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.
“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”
“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 
“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 
“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 
“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.
You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 
“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.
“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 
You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.
A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”
You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”
He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 
You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.
You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.
He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.
You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 
“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 
His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 
“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 
You nod with a “Please.”
“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”
He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.
“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”
With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 
He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 
“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 
You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 
You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 
The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.
You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 
“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 
“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 
The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 
“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”
He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 
Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 
“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”
Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 
“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 
He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 
“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.
“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”
You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 
“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”
He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 
“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 
You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 
You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 
Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.
“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”
He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 
He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 
Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 
He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 
You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 
“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 
He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”
“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 
You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 
“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 
“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 
Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 
His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 
“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.
He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.
“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 
He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 
Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 
Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 
You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”
Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.
Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 
Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 
“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 
“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”
“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 
“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”
Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 
Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 
“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 
“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”
He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“
He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 
“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 
“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”
You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 
“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 
“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 
Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.
He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 
He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.
Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 
More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”
How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 
“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”
“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.
“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“
“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 
Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 
“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 
It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 
It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.
“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 
You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 
He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.
“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”
He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 
“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”
“Special enough for a fourth date?”
You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”
Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 
“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 
“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 
A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3
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taintedcigs · 7 months
Text
we’d still worship this love — e.m.
part two of even if it’s a false god.
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pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader
warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI. p in v, cr*ampie, unprotected s*x, angstangstangst, eddie regrets everything!!, jealous eddie, a bit of protective steve, drinking, swearing, praises, nicknames, fluff!!
summary: in which eddie regrets what he said to you. (wc:6.3k+)
a/n: literally the lyrics match up soooo well w the story imo im sorry for the last line ok i rlly tried to hold myself back not to directly write any lyrics lmao. this is CHEESY. i hate THE ENDING. as usual! but im so glad u guys liked pt. one and i didn't want to deprave any of u !!! i did not proof-read so pls ignore any mistakes!! hope u guys enjoy this lmk what u think mwah!!
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Eddie sighed as he checked the kitchen, you were still nowhere to be found.
He had fucked up.
So badly.
He grabbed the half-empty red cup sitting on the kitchen stand. A whiff of alcohol hit his senses as soon as he tried to sniff it; it reeked, but Eddie didn’t care at this point, downing it like it was water.
He grabbed the pack of cigarettes sitting in his back pocket, walking miserably toward the backyard as he lit the cigarette sitting between his lips.
“Let’s get you to Steve’s, yeah?” The voice that passed by him was quick to grab his attention.
Robin.
“Robin?” He exclaimed excitedly, causing Robin to mouth “Don’t”.
He took a step to get closer to you but stopped quickly in his tracks; he had caused enough fucking damage.
He made his bed, and now he needed to lie in it.
He watched as you and Robin left, leaving him all alone. 
2 HOURS LATER
DON’T ANSWER: im so fuckhjing sorry
DON’T ANSWER: i didnt fuckingmeanit lije that i swear
DON’T ANSWER: pls talk to me
DON’T ANSWER: r u at steve? i can come
DON’T ANSWER: pleaseeeeee we can’t leave things like this. 
You heaved a sigh reading his texts, he was drunk again, and you weren’t going to entertain him.
You blocked this contact. 
“He’s texting me.” You groaned, chucking your phone away as you plopped yourself onto Steve’s bed.
“What did he say?” Steve asked curiously.
“He wants to see me and talk, he’s drunk again.” You replied curtly, head still filled with the words he uttered to you.
“I just… I can’t believe he’d say that.” Robin chimed in, shaking her head.
“I could. He’s an asshole.” You rolled your eyes.
“Yeah… but I always thought he had a soft spot for you.” Robin muttered.
You chuckled dryly. “He has a soft spot for my body.” You crinkled with disgust.
Robin shook her head as she spoke. “No, I mean it, Y/N… I really don’t believe he meant it like—” 
Steve was quick to interrupt. “Jesus, Robin, stop making excuses for him. I know he’s your friend and all, but he fucked up. And there’s nothing he can do now to ever take back the things he did to her!” He exclaimed, the two of them started bickering back and forth. 
You wanted to sink into the bed; you so badly wanted to believe Robin, believe that Eddie’s words were all just a lie, just something he made up on the spot just because he was afraid. 
But Steve was right—even if it was a lie, even if it was all a huge misunderstanding, nothing he could do would undo the amount of pain he caused you. The nights you spent sobbing—nothing could change that. 
But a part of you also knew that, if Eddie ever caught you in a moment of weakness again, you’d do it all over again; you’d let him ruin you all over again, just to have him complete you for the mere seconds he made you feel loved. 
The bickering and the storm in your mind stopped with a sudden knock on Steve’s door. 
The three of you looked at each other in unison.
Shit.
Did that stupid bastard really have the audacity to come here? 
You looked over at Steve with pity, about to open your mouth and beg, plead with him to do something, and he was quick to understand your train of thought. “I got this.” He muttered, hand squeezing your knee for comfort before he attended the door. 
As soon as the door swung open, there he was, blood-shot eyes and messy hair framing his face. He was shitfaced and could barely stand against the door frame. “Munson.” Steve affirmed sternly. 
“W—where is she?” Eddie slurred, barely even letting Steve speak. 
“She’s not here.” Steve said without letting Eddie take a look. 
“Look, man… I know she is, please—” He tried to push past him, but Steve stood his ground, blocking his way before his face turned cold. 
“She doesn’t want to see you.” Steve almost hissed, the intensity of his gaze taking Eddie back. 
“Don’t make this any harder and just leave, yeah?” Steve muttered, almost shutting the door before Eddie’s heavy boots interfered. 
“Please.” Eddie pleaded, making Steve huff as he threw a quick glance your way, and you quickly shook your head, mouthing ‘no’s.
But that was it; Eddie barged in as he used Steve’s distraction to his advantage, you gasped when the door swung open, revealing Eddie. 
He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, his gaze held guilt and relief. Guilty because of the fact that he uttered those words to you. But, relieved that he saw you, relieved that he could finally explain himself to you.
Yet you looked at him with such disgust that it ached his heart, putting on a heavy ache on his chest. Every breath he took now felt like a struggle. 
“Don’t!” You seethed when he took a step toward you, Steve was quick to jump to your defence, but you waved him off. 
“Leave.” You could feel your face grow hotter with rage each time you spoke, you didn’t want him here, you wanted him to disappear from the face of the earth. 
“I’m so fucking sorry.” That was all that left his lips, his eyes were glinting with sadness, and his bottom lip trembled with guilt. 
“You have the nerve… You have the fucking nerve.” You chuckled dryly, tongue rolling inside your cheek in anger. 
“Please... Let me just explain,” He slurred. 
His drunkenness made you more angry.
“I don’t want you to!” You hissed.  
“I told you, I’m fucking done, Munson.” You spoke calmly, tears were threatening to spill, but you held your ground. 
“One fucking minute, I swear—” You heaved a sigh, and another angry chuckle escaped from your throat as you looked at Steve, as if to tell him to kick him out, signaling for help. 
“Alright,” Steve muttered. “She doesn’t wanna talk, Munson.” He spoke calmly as he held Eddie’s arm, trying to drag him out. Eddie’s protests fell deaf on your ear as you plopped yourself on the bed again, crying into Steve’s sheets as Robin played with your hair to reassure you. 
1 MONTH LATER:
Thirty fucking days.
Eddie was going to lose his mind. 
Blocked from everywhere, and you avoided him like the plague.
He knew he deserved to be shut out; he knew he didn’t deserve you. But even crumbs of information from you would have eased him.
Steve and Robin had been useless, except for today. Except for that cryptic message Robin sent him about you being at the party today. And he praised his lucky stars for that.
Until he made it to the party.
Until he finally saw you.
With Mr. Jock pinning you against the wall as you giggled at his unfunny jokes.
Jesus fucking Christ. 
Don’t make a scene, Eddie. Don’t fucking make a scene—
His lips pressed together, jaw quick to clench as he couldn’t help the way he almost sprinted toward you. He didn’t know if it was out of pure jealousy, or the fact that he had missed you so goddamn much that he couldn’t stray away from you anymore. 
“Hi, honey.” Eddie said sarcastically and chirpily, jealousy dripped from his tone, and he couldn’t help the intense gaze he had on the asshole. 
You froze in your place as soon as you recognized the voice. What the fuck was he doing? 
Standing between the two of you, “Who’s this?” Eddie spat, his hand aggressively pointing toward him. 
You rolled your eyes before you turned to him. “Don’t,” You warned, your brows shooting up and a fiery flash apparent in your eyes. 
“Who are you?” He narrowed his eyes at Eddie, and as if Eddie had been waiting for him to provoke him further, he gave a smug smirk. Body turning to face the asshole.
You panicked, and the ever-so apparent tension in the air grew thicker “No one.” You replied quickly, avoiding Eddie’s lingering gaze. 
“Really? You’re gonna play that card, princess?” He gave you a dry chuckle, jealousy gnawed at his insides. 
You squeezed your eyes shut to save yourself from embarrassment, but he wasn’t going to stop until this jerk wasn’t at your side. 
“That’s not what you were saying the last time I saw you—” You were quick to cut him off with a warning gaze, your eyes widening. 
“Eddie… This—this is Ethan.” You said through gritted teeth. 
Eddie mocked a realization face, and you wanted to punch that smirk off of his stupid smug face. “Oh…” He laughed all-knowingly.
“That Ethan? The jock?” You narrowed your eyes, annoyance setting over your face, and you couldn’t handle the heat growing in your cheeks. 
This asshole. 
“I’m sorry, man.” He chuckled, giving Ethan a harsh slap on the shoulder, a slap that wasn’t friendly in the slightest bit—and you were sure now that the tension in the space the three of you shared could be cut through with a knife.
You cleared your throat to speak up, but Ethan did it before you. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
This was the provocation Eddie needed, and you knew it; you saw that mischievous glint glimmer in his eyes. “Oh, just that she was telling me all about how fucking horrible you—”
You interrupted Eddie with a nervous giggle. “Sooo sorry! He’s just a bit drunk!” You gave Ethan a panicked smile. 
“I’ll see you around!” You called out, walking off while dragging Eddie as far away from him as possible with a harsh grip on his arm. 
You probably didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you dragged him toward the closest empty room. 
“What the fuck?!?” You yelled into his face. 
He ignored your distress. “What are you doing with him?”
“None of your business.” You hissed.
“It is my business if you get with Mr Jock again.”
“I’m not getting with—” You lowered your voice mid-sentence, annoyance taking over. 
“What part of ‘I don’t want to fucking see you ever again’ don’t you understand?” You let out through gritted teeth, your face heating from anger. 
“Did you know…” He said, completely ignoring you, and you looked at him with the same angry expression, getting tired of his antics.
“When you get angry like that, a line crinkles on your forehead, and those sweet lips pout into a frown? You look so fuckin’ cute like that.” He murmured, leaning against the wall you trapped him into.
You let out an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked, brows furrowing. 
“What the hell do you want from me?” 
“You? I mean, eventually, I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night.” He smirked.
Fucking jerk.
You chuckled with an audible scoff. "Is this some kind of a joke?" You muttered under your breath, voice laced with irritation.
“You are so fucking irritating.” You spat, eyes narrowing. 
“Just… just—Leave me alone.” Your voice lowered, your face was coming closer to his, and all Eddie could think about was how nice it was to have you this close to him again, to feel your warmth again.
You could see it, the emotions his gaze held, but you didn’t want to fall for his antics again, so you turned quickly to leave.
“Please.” His pleading and his hold on your arm were what made you stop in your tracks. The way his voice cracked, you could hear the desperation. If only you didn’t care about him this fucking much…
“Please—just, hear me out.” He was almost begging, and you knew you should be running, you knew you shouldn’t care, not even to spit the venom inside of you that had been building since that night.
But you can’t help it. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, words coming out in a sharp and biting tone as your anger escalated. 
“After what you said to me...” You looked at him with a piercing stare, your eyes practically emitting flashes of irritation.
“Do you have any fucking idea how much I can’t even stomach being around you?” Your nostrils flared with every breath you took. 
“In fact, I hate you.” You spat.
“You hate me?” He asked, inching closer toward you. 
“Yes!” You snapped. 
“Then show me.” He challenged. 
“W—what?” You stuttered, your confidence dissipating in a second as the room felt so fucking small when he was standing this close to you. 
Your guard was so thinly veiled that one fucking word from him was enough to shatter it.
And you knew, with one or two more pushes from him, you’d give in. You’d give in, regardless; you had missed him more than you would ever let him know. 
And you shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.
“Take it out on me.” He whispered, gaze intentionally fixated on your lips. 
“You hate me, fine! One last time. Get me out of your system.” He’s so close to your face that when he leans in to whisper in your ear, you can feel his hot breath on your neck. 
He’s intoxicating—his endearing words, the jealousy, and the possessiveness—and you shouldn’t fucking fall for it. 
But it feels different this time; something is so fucking different about him that it’s throwing you off. The way his pretty lips frame the words is convincing. 
Making you believe that this would be the last time, making you believe that you could come clean off him if you had him just one more fucking time. 
You don’t say anything when you give in, your gaze lingering on his lips.
His eyes are quick to trace your face, admiring all of your features in awe, regret filling every vein in his body, knowing that this would be the last time. 
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says roughly. He doesn’t let you respond, lets the petty comments die down your throat when he kisses you. 
Oh, Jesus, Fucking Christ. 
Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. There was something so bittersweet about the way he kissed you, knowing it was going to be the last. He twirled his tongue with yours, so needy and so fucking promising. 
Eddie knew you better than the back of his hand, so when you started whimpering against his lips, your knees giving out, he knew you didn’t want to waste any time. 
He guided you toward the bed, gentle as he had never been before. The two of you were slow to undress each other, savoring every fucking moment. 
He let you lead everything, going only at your pace and making sure everything was up to your desires, purely catering to you. 
You could sense it, see the difference in how intimate this was, compared to others where it was just senselessly fucking, this was passionate, and it was killing the two of you. 
Rather than just pushing into it, he kept his gaze on you, admiring the way your chest rose up and down as his calloused hands slid further down your body, nipples hardening when his hands stopped to ghost over your thighs. 
His other hand rested on your breasts, and he didn’t hesitate to latch his tongue on it, sucking while his other fingers toyed with your entrance. 
You mewled; you weren’t going to hold back. “Moremoremore.” 
But he didn’t move an inch.
That greedy bastard. 
“More,” You pleaded louder this time, growing impatient. 
Eddie looked at you with such hunger in his eyes that it had your core throbbing. “I’m gonna give you every fucking thing you need, honey.” He promised. 
“But I need… this. I need this memory of you engraved into my brain, forever.” He groaned, giving all of his attention to every part of your body. 
You were quick to nod, quick to oblige him, especially when he made you feel this fucking good. 
But you couldn’t help it, you needed him. Especially when he was everywhere, hands gliding all over your body, making you whimper with just his touch. 
And the way you looked at him was so fucking tempting that he was almost going to explode, you were pleading with your gaze, telling him to take you… fully. To make you his, one last fucking time. 
He could recognize the weight your gaze held, almost as if he understood your train of thought, he pressed his thumb further into your clit, circling around it as your core clenched on nothing. 
“Please,” You begged. 
“Such an impatient, baby,” He muttered into your skin, pushing past your folds as he earned a low groan from you.
“Missed those sweet noises,” He hummed, doing everything in his power to not pound into you right away, the way your cunt was gushing for him, the way you pleaded, Eddie was sure he’d burst if he had to wait more. 
With a tender touch, he tucked your hair back. “You have no clue how fuckin’ insane you make me.” He pressed a sloppy kiss, his hands were still working their way through your folds. 
“Each time I’m around you… it’s like I lose all my fuckin’ senses.” He slurred into your ear, his cock was straining his boxers, and you looked so fucking perfect beneath him, looking all fucked when he had barely touched. 
But you ignored it. Ignored every one of his words, you didn’t need his sappy shit; you didn’t need another reason to stay. 
You just needed to feel good. 
“Please, fuck, baby, please,” You whimpered softly, your nails digging harshly into his back, making his cock twitch more and more. 
Baby. 
He doesn’t even remember the last time you called him that, and it shouldn’t bring a stupid, childish grin to his face, but it does. 
He’s ready to put everything behind him, start over, and do whatever you say. 
But he’s sure you will never let him. 
“I need you, Eds.” You murmured, eyes gazing into his; a mixture of tenderness and longing overtaking your features, speaking to him without uttering a single word.
That was all it took for him to free his hard cock from his boxers, his pink-tip burning with desire as it faced you, beads of pre-cum dripping from it as you smeared it all over, giving it a few pumps before you placed it into your entrance. 
The low groans that escaped Eddie’s lips were so fucking loud, filling the room, and you loved it. You loved the strained sounds he made with one touch from you. 
He didn’t hesitate to push himself deep inside of you without a warning, the space now being filled with both of your contented groans. 
“Holy fuck,” He breathed, head tilted back as he grinned at the sight in front of him.
You with your mouth hung open, murmuring his name as you took his cock like the good fucking girl that you were.  
“Takin’ me so well, angel,” He praised, “Baby, so fuckin’ tight, mhmm.” He placed sloppy kisses between your jaw and the line of your neck, grunting as he pounded his cock in and out of you with a speed that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
You were lost in him now, lost in the pure passion and affection Eddie provided you. You never felt this fucking good; you never felt this fucking close to him, breathing heavily as you struggled to keep your eyes open. 
Everything was so fucking intense that you could barely breathe.  
“Look at how well your sweet cunt is takin’ me in.” Eddie moaned, watching the way his cock disappeared into you, nuzzling him with your warmth. 
“Fuckfuckfuck. S’fuckin’ warm, honey.” He muttered the deeper he pushed into you, and your walls were quick to clench around his throbbing cock.
You arched your back into him as you rocked your hips toward him.  
You wanted him deeper and deeper, faster and faster, his every moment was euphoric, and you needed him, more and more. 
He was making you greedy. 
God, you wanted to hate him so fucking bad. 
He groaned at your impatience, relished in the way you grunted your hips more into his cock, he chuckled smugly. “Greedy baby,” He muttered. 
You ignored his taunting while you begged for more. 
“Shut up,” You murmured, teasing him back.
And it was a huge mistake.
He cursed as he pulled out of you, and you whined at the emptiness, “Shit, shit, ‘m sorry” You whispered, but he ignored you, continuing his teasing while all you could do was thrash beneath him. 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” You begged, causing him to smirk down at you. 
And even though your pleas were heavenly, Eddie was in no mood to stray away from you, he needed to be inside of you. 
He needed to feel your walls hugging his cock, he needed to be as close to you as he possibly could. 
“I would never say no to you, doll.” He mocked, rocking his hips into you with such force that the whimper that slipped past your lips was sinful. 
“All fuckin’ mine, yea?” He whimpered needily, and you nodded without hesitation, even though you both knew that wasn’t true. 
You shuddered underneath him; he was filling you to the brim, and you cherished every fucking second of it. 
“Eddie…” You barely let out a breath; the pleasure and sensation of each of his movements overwhelmed you. 
He cooed, “S’stuffed with my cock that you can barely speak, doll?” He asked mockingly. 
You nodded without hesitation, eyes squeezed shut. “I—Fuck…” Your head was dizzy, incoherent babbles were the only thing that escaped your lips, and Eddie knew, he knew you were close by the way your legs trembled. 
“Fuck… honey—I know.” He purred cockily, his hips pushing further into you with a glorious thrust. “I feel the same, baby.” He groaned when you clenched around him again.  
“My perfect girl.” He muttered as he continued his pace, his cock rocking into you further and faster—as if it were possible—earning low pleads from you in return.
“I never—I never thought being with someone could ever feel this way,” He whispered into your ear. 
Don’t let him get to you; don’t fucking let his words get to you.
But fuck—does everything with him feel so fucking good. 
“But, shit, you’re so different…” He muttered, his pace continuing as he grunted between his sentences. 
“You’re so fucking different.” You avoided his gaze, the emotion it held was too fucking much for you to handle.  
You tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the way you felt the hot tears streaming down your cheeks. Your emotions were a mess. 
It felt good, and he felt good; his words, his fucking cock inside of you, everything felt so fucking good. It was the temporary fix you needed. 
“Don’t do this to me, Munson.” You barely let out, he could feel your thighs trembling. 
“I…I never felt this way before… Jesus—Fuck.” The rocking motion of his hips became rougher each time he spoke; you were clenching around him, getting tighter and tighter, driving the both of you into insane heights of pleasure.
“I think I lo—” You snapped from your hazy state of pleasure; each of his words was like a stab at your fresh wound, the one he fucking created. 
“Don’t,” You warned him sternly, interrupting before he could get another vowel out.
"Don’t fucking finish that sentence. Don’t do that with me.”
“I know you. It's not working on me." You whispered.
“But—” He pleaded, and you interrupted again.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t ruin this.” The words were harsh as they left your lips.
“Don’t say things to make me doubt this, to make it harder for me to leave.” There was such a vulnerability in your voice that he couldn't help but want to protest. 
He wanted to tell you that it was all fucking true. That he was so fucking in love with you that he was sure he lost his mind. 
Yet, you don’t let him speak, you don’t let his words fool you, not again. 
You kiss him in a dizzyingly rough motion just to shut him up. 
His skin slaps against yours, rough, as if he’s trying to take his frustrations out, and you let him, you let him pound into you senselessly. You let his cock drive into you further, not stopping until he’s sure he’s stuffed you to the brim. 
“Eddie, fuck!” You mumble into his lips; your brows are drawn together, and he knows—he knows you are close. 
“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He cooed, and you nodded quickly. “Cum for me, honey.” He encouraged, not stopping his pace as he roughly thrusted his cock inside of your throbbing cunt one last time. 
A gush of wetness pulsed out of you when you released around him, the strength of your orgasm was enough to choke you out, and white-hot flashes blurred your vision as he watched you in awe. 
He wasn’t far behind, as the strained moans that escaped your throat drove him closer to the edge. 
“Shitshit—s’fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted. The way your cunt convulsed around him was too much for him to handle. He slammed inside of you one last time.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—” He growled against your hair as he came, his cock shrivelled inside your cunt, pulsing as he coated your walls with his warm cum, fucking his release inside of you.
The two of you stayed like that for a hot minute, bodies tangled to each other, both minds fuzzy as both of you tried to catch your breath. 
You could feel tears brimming your eyes again when the realization hit you. 
This was the last time. 
And you needed to leave. 
As soon as possible.
And that’s exactly what he’s afraid of, afraid of you leaving, forever. 
You are quick to shake your thoughts off, quickly getting up to get dressed. 
“Don’t,” He mutters, it’s barely audible. 
You turn to him with a quizzed look. “Please… Just, please don’t leave.” He begs, it’s the last sight you expect, and the last thing you expect to hear. 
And it should feel so fucking satisfying, to know he’s wrapped around your finger, to know he is practically pleading for you. But it doesn’t, it feels so fucking sentimental, and you hate it. 
“You knew.” You muttered, putting on the clothes you so carelessly discarded. 
“You wanted this to be the last time.” You whispered, not daring to look at him.
“I lied,” He was quick to reply. 
“Eddie…” You heaved a sigh.
“Please, just fucking listen to me for once.” He breathed; you’re sure you’ve never heard him this determined. 
“I’m a fucking idiot, and I’m the biggest coward in the whole fucking universe, okay?” You turn around to meet his gaze, it’s pitiful and heavy with guilt, and you wish you never cared about him.
You wish you could just throw your feelings away and leave him behind. 
“I don’t deserve you!” He exclaimed, causing you to roll your eyes. 
“Stop… just stop with the bullshit of making me pity you—” You replied angrily.
But he doesn’t let you finish. 
“Look, Y/N. I want that with you, I want something real with you… Shit—more than anything.” 
You chuckled, baffled. “Too fucking late for that.” You replied coldly. 
“I—it doesn’t have to be!” He spoke, grasping at straws to get you to give him one more chance.
Just one more fucking chance.
“What good will it do?” You whispered.
“You know what I realized?” You asked, putting on your shirt as Eddie gazed at you with need. 
“We’re both so beyond fucked up that...” You squeezed your eyes shut.
“Us—” You pointed toward the two of you. “We would never work!” You spat.
“I’m the last fucking girl for a relationship, and you’re the last fucking guy for a relationship.” 
“That’s why it would be perfect!” He tried to reason, but you shook your head.
“No—no, it wouldn’t! We’d eat each other alive!” You exclaimed, but Eddie refused. 
“So?” He shrugged.
“So? We’d just fight all the time! You really want a relationship that hard?”
“When did you become so fucking afraid to take a risk? A little challenge?” You narrowed your eyes.
He read you like a fucking book. You knew you weren’t afraid of a challenge.
You were afraid of getting hurt.
You were afraid of being more attached to him than you already were.
You were afraid of him running out once you decided to fully commit.
You knew it wasn’t all him; you were messed up in your own fucking way. Avoiding everything that felt too real was your specialty, because you’d rather be aching now than in the near future when he broke your heart again.
If you didn’t leave now, you never could.
“Goodbye, Eddie.” You muttered, shutting out whatever he was saying as you closed the door. 
Eddie sat on the bed, alone with himself, and his mind that was spinning with thoughts and his own voice telling him that he fucked up. 
He chucked his jacket to the ground as he rubbed his hands along his face in frustration. 
He had truly done it this time, he had lost you.
Forever.
But did he have to? 
Did he need to be a fucking coward again? 
Why would he give up this fucking fast when he didn’t tell you how he even felt? 
Eddie got up in a hurry, sprinting toward the party like a man possessed, spinning around each girl he saw in the hopes that it might be you. 
“Have you seen, Y/N?” He asked, and the blonde girl pointed toward the porch. 
He muttered a quick ‘Thanks’ as he slipped through the bodies in his way as fast as he could, making his way onto the porch with anticipation, eyes glistening the second he spotted you. 
You were sat on the cold wooden floor with your face buried into your hands, quiet sniffling was all Eddie heard. And he felt it again—that familiar ache—the same ache he felt the past month, when he couldn’t see you, talk to you, or know how you were doing. It returned instantly when he heard your sobs. 
“Hey… hey…” He murmured, causing you to jump as you turned to him with swollen eyes and your mascara was quick to run down your cheeks. 
“You’re gonna get cold, honey. Let’s get you up, yea?” He had never been this fucking caring, nor did he ever pine after you this much; he always held back, no matter what storms brewed in his mind. 
He extended his arm for you to take, but you glared at him coldly. “What are you doing here, Eddie?” 
“I need to talk to you.” He said. 
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You muttered, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to—” Your rant was interrupted by his pleas.
“Please—just don’t say anything and just listen, please.” You sighed. 
“Please, Y/N.” 
“Fine.” You crossed your arms against your chest, your eyes still glistening with tears.
He inched closer to you. “These thirty fucking days I’ve spent away from you… It’s been torture, Y/N.” He shook his head. 
“You—you have no fucking idea the things I did... The things I’ve tried to forget about us... Forget you.” His voice almost cracked, distress overtaking his features. He was sincere, so fucking honest that it was starting to make you afraid.
You couldn’t decide if it was him or the chilly breeze that sent shivers down your spine. “And no matter what I did, I still found myself itching for you. A part of me that I couldn’t fucking kill craved for you… to see you, to call you.” 
You’d never seen him like this before.
Eddie was always guarded, all fun and teasing. Always turning serious shit into jokes.
And this was real. The only thing you wanted from him, the only thing you begged that he made a mockery of. The hypocrisy was appalling to you.
You opened your mouth, your brows had already furrowed, and he could tell you were going to curse him out, so he didn’t let you.
“I know… I’m a fucking hypocrite, I get it.” He whispered, and your eyes almost widened.
How the fuck did he read you that easily?
“And I’m so fucking sorry for everything I said.” He ran his hands through his curls, almost tugging them out for being an idiot.
“I was afraid, okay?” He heaved a sigh, hand ruffling through his messy hair.
You didn’t want to ask him what he was afraid of because you knew—because you were afraid of the same thing.
Your lips trembled with need; no words dared to come out of them. 
“I was so fucking scared because I did the first thing we promised not to do.” He squeezed his eyes shut. You knew how bad he was with his feelings; you couldn’t even believe that he had made it this far.
“I think—No, I know.” He shook his head.
“I really fell for you.” He was ripping open your chest now, holding your heart out. Telling you he felt the same. A gasping, quiet noise escaped your lips; this was all you wanted—needed.
You’ve been this close to Eddie countless times before; hell, he probably fucked you at a much closer distance countless times before, but this was intimate. 
“And I realized... I could lose everything in this fucked up world.” He took a deep breath, his face so close to yours that you could sense it. Sense every emotion radiating from his body—the vulnerability, the pain. 
Each beat of your heart was like a drumroll against your chest; everything you longed for was there, a breath away from you.
“But not you. Oh god, not you.” His brows knitted together in a painful expression, and his voice was barely audible as he looked at you with a gaze that held you as the center of his universe.
You wanted to kiss him; you wanted his soft lips to graze against yours; you wanted to sob into him, melt into him, and become complete with him. 
“W—what are you saying?” You asked, and you knew the answer, but you needed that confirmation, you needed those three words to leave his lips.
“I love you.” He said without hesitation, and you couldn’t help the childish grin that formed on your face, mirroring Eddie’s. 
“I—You do?” You stuttered.
“Yeah… I love you so fucking much that it’s embarrassing, really.” He chuckled, still not able to comprehend your expressions; you looked… frozen. 
“You, uh, you don’t have to say it back.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, all of this was so fucking new to him. What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No, no, no... He couldn’t do that because you didn’t say it back. 
“I’m sorry, shit, uhm—I honestly have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” He stuttered. 
You gave him a warm smile. “I’d say you are doing well,” You whispered, scrunching your nose. 
“Yeah?” He returned the smile—that goddamn smile that brought out his dimples. 
God, you wanted to kiss him. 
“You’re making it so hard for me to leave.” You muttered, turning around to take a breath as you shook your head.
Eddie sighed, hands quick to find yours as he turned you to face him. “Then don’t leave. Stay.”
His past words didn’t matter, and how your relationship started didn’t matter. None of it mattered now because Eddie was ready, ready to give himself fully to you. And he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
It was now or never. You heaved a sigh of breath as you looked into his eyes; you couldn’t help yourself. How could you not utter those words back to him?
“Jesus…When I told Robin that I was ready to fall in love again, I didn’t mean with you.”
You barely gave him any time to process your words as you smashed your lips with his.
It was as if passion was dripping from every move; it felt so fucking different to have this many emotions carrying your actions.
Before you could further it, taste him fully, Eddie pulled back slightly. You whined at the loss of contact. “Wait, wait, wait.” The words slipped past his lips quickly, eyes widening at your words.
“You—you? You are…?” He asked, baffled. He didn’t expect you to say it back.
He expected you to hate him forever. The thought of someone loving him was unfamiliar to him, especially to the extent that you did. Healing his fears without realizing it.
Your lips quirked into a smile. Why was he so idiotically cute?
You nodded, affirming him.
“Say it, please,” He pleaded, hands gentle as they cupped your cheeks. The look he gave you was mellow and your face tilted as you melted into his tender touch.
“I love you,” You muttered, eyes glinting with all the unspoken feelings you’ve been containing.
“Again.” A grin overtook his lips, and his widened eyes didn’t falter, shock and pure bliss apparent was written all over his face.
“Please,” He implored, brows softening each time you gave him that pretty smile.
“Soooo needy.” You narrowed your eyes jokingly.
“I love you,” You repeated, your gaze lingering on his honey-glazed eyes.
“Aren’t you a fucking dream?” You giggled, the dimples on his left cheek were pretty, he was so pretty.
“I love you more, honey.” He whispered, smashing his soft lips against yours.
And you invite him in to patch up the wounds he made, to give you the world, to love you fully; knowing that the blind faith transcended into something real, something worth worshiping.
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loveshotzz · 22 days
Text
I guess it’s never really over
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mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers
chapter three -
This has got to be the longest crush ever
Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.
warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚
wc: 6.3k
authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡
series masterlist | series playlist
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June -
Would you believe me if I said I’m in love? 
                            Baby, I want you to want me.
You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.
All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week. 
When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught. 
Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.
”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.
“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”
Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming
Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out. 
Oh no. 
Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too. 
“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.
No, no, no, NO.
You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.
Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack. 
Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.
He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.
”Psst, hey.” 
The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.
”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.
”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.
You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes. 
“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.
”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.
”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.
Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.
”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.
Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.
”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”
“I’ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.
”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.
”Is it?”
”Absolutely.”
“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.
”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name. 
Yeah… you were fucked.
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“I’ve got a date tonight!” 
Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again. 
“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.
”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”
“Yeah, okay, Steve.”
It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh. 
“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”
Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics. 
“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.
“I’m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”
Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.
”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.
”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.
”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.
”Robin.”
”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.
If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.
”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.
”Maybe.”
”Maybe?!”
”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.
”What?”
”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.
Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.
The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.
The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours. 
Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around. 
The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.
”Buckley residen-“
”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”
“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.
”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“
”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.
”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.
”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance. 
”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.
Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:
Eddie and Steve.
You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.
You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along. 
It only rings twice.
“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.
”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.
“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.
“Yeah, the middle schooler.”
“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“
“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-” 
“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”
”My shoes are already on.”  
After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries. 
Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.
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The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.
One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.
You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.
He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.
”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.
When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.
”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”
”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.
”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.
Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump. 
There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.
A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.
”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.
”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”
He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry. 
“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.” 
He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit. 
Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change. 
It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips. 
“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop. 
She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.
“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”
Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.
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Got me up all night
            all I’m singing is love songs.
“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”
Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek. 
“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”
”Shut up!”
”Will you stop?!���
You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm. 
“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.
“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?
”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.
“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”
Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.
”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”
Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.
”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”
You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.
”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’
His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.
”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.  
“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.
“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”
It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.
But Robin does.
With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself. 
With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.
Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.
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You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.
Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.
A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible. 
The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real. 
He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.
It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again. 
The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.
You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist 
“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”
Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs. 
“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”
His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.
Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight. 
“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.
”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”
”What?”
”Last week,” 
”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”
“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.
“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.
“What about now?” 
“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.
”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.
”If you want me to.”  He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours. 
Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.
”Please tell me you want me to.” 
The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.
“Kiss me, Steve.”
A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.
He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.
Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.
“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.
It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.
He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.
”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.
”Steve -“
”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.
”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.
”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.
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611 notes · View notes
bruisedboys · 1 year
Note
Eddie loves his shy girl so much, he’ll always call her “my girl” or “the wife” “the mrs” around others just to watch how red she gets 🥹🥹 but soon he finds that calling her the wife feels natural and right, he realizes she’s the only girl he ever wants
he totally does omg. bro def calls you his wife with absolutely no shame. thank u for the ask angel!!
summary: eddie calls shy!you a lot of names. all of them make you flustered beyond belief
shy!fem!reader 1k words
Steve’s invited you all to drinks to celebrate him and Robin finally copping a job that isn’t slinging ice cream or sitting behind a video store counter all day. Eddie’s helping you pick out an outfit. It’s taking longer than you’d expected. Something about posing for Eddie makes you so nervous you can barely walk.
“Are you done yet?” Eddie’s voice on the other side of the door is far from impatient, even though it should be by now.
You grumble something incoherent instead of answering. Eddie heard you and laughs.
“Y/N,” he says seriously. The effect is ruined because you can hear his smile in the way he says your name. “We’re gonna be late, baby. Come out and show me the dress. I bet this is the one.”
You stare at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds. It is a nice dress. It’s a good length and makes your chest look nice, the colour looks pretty on your skin. Still, you’re embarrassed. You don’t like dressing up. It feels attention-seeking.
You scrub your face with both hands and take a big breath. “Alright, fine.”
You turn away from the mirror before you can stop yourself and yank the bathroom door open. Eddie’s waiting for you on your bed, sitting pretty, if a little slouched. He has bad posture. But his back goes rigid when he sees you — he sits up straight and lets his jaw drop.
“Babe,” he half-whispers, totally in awe, his eyes blown wide. He’s definitely laying it on thick but you can sense the genuineness underneath it all. His eyes traverse a path down your body and back up again, leaving your skin burning. And he hasn’t even touched you yet. “Baby. Honey. Darling. You look amazing.”
You flush all over despite yourself. “Eddie,” you say, chiding.
Eddie pretends to look offended. “What?” He leaps off the bed and gets one hand around your waist, the fabric of your dress shushing under his touch. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re a real stunner, you know that?”
His other hand finds your elbow and pushes all the way up to your bicep, his fingers pressing into your skin. You burn like a furnace where he touches you. You knew this part was coming.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you say, genuine underneath all the shyness.
Eddie looks like he’s about to say something more but you’re saved from his doting by the phone next to your bed ringing loudly. You make to get it but Eddie beats you to it.
“Hello?” He says into the phone, sounding half-annoyed. “Oh. Hi, Steve. Yeah, no, we’re coming. The Mrs is just getting ready.” A pause in which Eddie meets your eye and winks. You flush even worse than you already were. Eddie goes back to talking to Steve. “Uh-huh. Yeah, we’ll be there in ten. Bye, Harrington.”
Eddie puts the phone back and you try to compose yourself. The Mrs, he’d called you. You feel like you could die.
Meanwhile Eddie’s grabbing his jacket from the bedpost and shrugging it on. “He’s badgering us about being late,” he says, pushing his arms through the sleeves. “We better get going, dove.” He looks up at you, half in his jacket. “Do you need me to carry anything for you?”
My heart? You think. Then maybe your chest wouldn’t hurt so much. You shake your head.
“No, um. That’s okay.” You push your hair behind your ears and try not to show how much he’s undone you with his antics. “I’ll just grab my purse.”
Eddie smiles at you. “Okay. I’ll meet you in the car?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
Ten minutes later you’ve arrived at the bar and Eddie’s leading you inside with a hand at the small of your back. He smells good, like the cologne you’d bought him forever ago that he wears basically every day.
You step inside the semi-crowded bar and Eddie spots your friend group before you do.
“They’re over there, by the window,” he says, pointing. “C’mon.”
He takes your hand and pulls you in the direction of your friends. You let him guide you and he pleases, his hand a warm weight in yours. You stare at the back of his head until you arrive at the table. Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan are all here.
“Munson!” Robin cheers. Your eyes zero in on the drink in her hand and you think she’s maybe already a bit tipsy. Then she spots you and beams. “Y/N!”
You smile back. “Hi, Robs. Hi, everyone, sorry we’re late.” You give a sheepish laugh and glance at Eddie. “My fault.”
“It was worth it though, right?” Eddie says enthusiastically, to the group at whole. He throws an arm around your shoulder and jostles you gently. “Doesn’t my girl look great?”
My girl. Your face burns. There’s a chorus of agreement from around the table — it makes you feel better but not better enough that you’re not still flushing furiously.
“Eddie,” you mumble, avoiding everyone’s eyes and staring at the tabletop instead. You elbow him in the side, too gentle for what you feel he deserves.
Eddie laughs loudly. “What?” He asks, even though he knows exactly what.
You huff and wish the floor would swallow you up. When it doesn’t, you let Eddie pull you into the booth next to Robin. It’s a tight squeeze and Eddie’s thigh presses into yours, his jeans warm and rough on your skin where your dress rides up your thighs.
You think Eddie notices this too because he lets his hand fall to your lap instead of his own, spreading his hand over your thigh, his fingers grazing your bare skin. He squeezes you and you try not to show how much he affects you.
“Drinks?” He asks you, like everything is completely normal and you’re not a nervous, flustered wreck right now.
“Okay,” you say, unable to get more than one word out.
Eddie grins wolfishly. You think he’s probably planning on being like this all night. You don’t mind as much as you should.
-
“Okay,” you say, unable to get more than one word out.
Eddie grins wolfishly. You think he’s probably planning on being like this all night. You don’t mind as much as you should.
-
5K notes · View notes
skaye44 · 22 days
Text
The Veterans Ball
Avengers Bucky
Summary: Your friend, secret crush, and mission partner Bucky has been spending a lot of time with you lately which you love. He forgot about an important ball him, Steve, and Sam have been invited to. He thinks you'll be his perfect date for it, but Steve has other plans and already has a date lined up. Your bff Sam offers to take you so you accept, not wanting to waste a perfectly good dress. You see Bucky's date and you start doubting yourself because she seems perfect. Little do you know, he's still got his eyes on you.
Content Warnings: Mild language (if any?), Oblivious knobhead Steve, Soft Bucky, FLUFF.
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You had just gotten back from a grueling weeklong mission with your new mission partner Bucky. You and he spent the entire week together, 24 hours a day. Sure, it was nice to have him around. He was the best mission partner you could ask for. He didn't really talk a whole lot, was reliable, smart, and always had your back.
What more could you ask for?
You had gotten to know each other well from being on this mission and perhaps re-igniting your crush you had on him when you first joined the team.
Sam was the only one who knew your feelings for Bucky. Sam was your best friend. You loved him like a brother to you. He was funny, smart, and caring. Him and Bucky didn't really get along that well but if they were out on a mission together, they made it work.
After supper, you were sitting on one of the comfy chairs in the living room of the compound reading a book. You must have dozed off because when you woke up, you had a fuzzy blanket on you, your book sat neatly on the coffee table with the bookmark in its place, and the blinds next to you were closed so the sunset wouldn't be hitting you directly in your eyes.
You looked around sleepily and noticed Bucky across from you watching TV. No one else was around. He glanced over at you and gave you a small smile, then he went back to watching the TV. You couldn't help but blush lightly, quickly moving your head down so he wouldn't notice.
Did he do this for me?
You stretched out your arms and back. Just then you noticed Steve and Sam walk in and sit down on the couch and chair next to you. 
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty" Sam teased as he grabbed the remote from Bucky. 
You scowled at him but smiled. 
"I'm tired" you said as you were getting up from the chair.
You folded the blanket and grabbed your book to head to your room.
As you were putting your book away on your bookcase, a knock came at the door. Your back was to the door "C'mon in" you said not paying attention to who was there. 
"Um, hi" a voice said from the doorway. It was Bucky. 
"Hi Bucky".
You turned around to face him. 
"What's up?"
You sat down on your bed looking at him. 
"Um, well, I..."
He was standing awkwardly looking around the room. 
"I was wondering...there's this thing…"
You were looking at him intently waiting for him to spit out his words. 
"This thing next weekend...I was wondering if you had any plans? It's a Veteran's Charity Ball Steve, Sam, and I are going to" he said now meeting your eyes. 
"I was wondering if you would like to go with me?" he asked in a hopeful tone.
You remained calm on the outside while your insides were doing flippy flops and cartwheels. 
"Oh, sure, I'd love to go with you". You smiled at Bucky. 
"Really?"
"Yeah, sounds like it would be fun". You smiled at him. 
"It's in DC. Steve, Sam, and I were planning on going and we are allowed one date each if we want".
He sat down on the edge of your bed. 
"Ok. Do I have to wear a gown and everything?" you asked. 
You knew full well what he was asking you to go to since Sam talked your ear off about it over the past month, even sending you texts about it while you were on your mission. You knew Steve was going but didn't think Bucky would want to go.
"Steve is getting all of the plans ready, so I'll have more information on it in a few days but yes, it's formal, so gowns and everything."
Bucky smiled at you. 
"Sounds good Bucky".
He got up from your bed and walked to your door and turned to you. 
"Goodnight, Y/n".
"Night Bucky".
When he left the room and you were sure he was far away from your door, you jumped on your bed and did a happy dance to yourself.
The next morning you met with Sam and Nat in the kitchen before heading to the gym to do a quick workout. You told them about Bucky asking you to the ball and they both gushed at you and smiled. 
"That's great Y/n. We need to find you a dress" she smiled. 
You didn't tell her about your crush, but you knew she could tell you were interested since she was amazing at reading people. 
"I guess we could go shopping later on".
You were all walking to the gym. 
"It'll be fun" she squeezed your arm.
As you walked into the gym, you noticed Steve and Bucky sparring on one of the mats in the corner. When Bucky saw you walk in, he stopped to look at you and smiled. As you and him were smiling at each other, Steve landed a punch to his jaw, knocking him back. 
"Ow, what the hell Steve?" Bucky yelled. 
"Sorry, thought you were ready?" Steve was walking towards Bucky to check on him. 
You and Nat giggled with Sam walking over to Steve. 
"Nice one Steve!" Sam exclaimed. 
Bucky scowled at both men and proceeded to leave the gym rubbing his jaw. Before he left, he walked towards you and Nat. 
"Hey Y/n, do you want to watch a movie with me tonight?" Bucky asked you while you were stretching. 
"Ok". You were trying not to have a stupid grin on your face. 
"Meet me in the theatre room for 7". Bucky smiled. 
"Sounds good".
He left the gym and you exhaled to calm your tummy down.
"What was that all about?" Nat asked. 
Sam walked over to you and winked. He heard what Bucky had said and was happy for you. Bucky was always nice to you, you both got along well when you weren't on missions, but he never really spoke much to you. You and he just finished a mission where you were with him non-stop. You did get to know him better since it was only the two of you and you were grateful for that. He really was a nice guy. On this last mission, you found yourselves talking in the evenings, playing cards, and laughing about things that Steve said or did. You had wondered why the change in Bucky's attitude towards you but shrugged it off.
You met Bucky in the theatre room for 7pm. He had popcorn, drinks, and a blanket ready to go. 
"What do you want to watch?"
"It really doesn't matter to me".
"Ok, how about this one?". He chose an action movie. 
"Sounds good".
You grabbed the blanket and put it around you. 
"Here" you draped the blanket over him. "We can share".
He smiled at you as the movie started playing. You watched the movie with Bucky and every so often you would chat about the scene or actor and make comments about the stunts causing you both to giggle and smirk. You were having such a good time you didn't want the movie to end. When it did, you were a little sleepy. Bucky walked you to your room even after you insisted it was fine, giving you a quick hug and peck on the cheek. You smiled like a dork and went to bed.
Over the next few days, you noticed Bucky was more and more drawn to you. He would open doors up for you, give you bottles of water if you were in the gym, help you in the kitchen of the compound, and would sit next to you on the couch if there was a show on everyone was watching. You loved it, and you were starting to fall more and more for him.
You and Nat went out and got a gown for the ball and some accessories like a bracelet, necklace, and new clutch. You ended up choosing a simple black chiffon v-neck long gown. It was elegant and you knew it would go great with anything Bucky was going to wear. You had thought about wearing dark red or a midnight blue colour, but decided this black gown was the one since it was so comfortable and easy to transport. Plus, you could always wear it again because it was a good classic style, and you were very practical when it came to buying expensive fancy dresses.
As you and Nat were walking back into the compound with your gown in the garment bag, you noticed Sharon Carter was there, talking with Steve. You weren't a big fan of hers simply for the fact that you didn't trust her.
She was a great agent, always around for support, was smart and strong, but you didn't trust her one bit. She always made you feel uneasy, but you just ignored it since everyone else seemed to like her. Well, Nat wasn't so sure about her, and she knew Sharon made you feel anxious so she would always try and get you far away from her as possible.
"Hi Sharon". You walked in trying to be civil to her. 
She smirked at you and left the room, leaving Steve and Bucky standing there looking at you. 
"Hi Y/n". Steve said then he walked away.
"What's going on?" you asked no one in particular. 
Bucky was standing there with a sad look on his face and was unable to look at you. Sam walked into the room and noticed your bags. 
"Oh, I hope you found something good". Sam hugged you. 
"Sure, did Sam".
"Buck, what's wrong?" you asked. 
"Um...well. It's..."
Bucky looked at the floor. 
"What is it?"
You grabbed his hand. 
That seemed to snap him out of it, and he looked into your eyes. You could get lost looking into his eyes, but noticed they were a little stormy and sad looking now. 
"Spit it out Barnes". Nat was firm as she put her hands on her hips.
"Well, when Steve was making plans for the ball, he forgot to tell me him and Sharon already had a date for me". He looked down. 
"Oh..."
You let go of his hand, feeling like you got a punch to the gut.
"That's ok". You gave him a half smile. 
You were literally dying on the inside and was praying for a hole to swallow you up. 
"Another time Bucky". You flashed him a oft smile. 
"I'm so sorry Y/n". Bucky looked conflicted. 
"Really, it's ok. I can take the dress back." you re-assured him. 
"Plus, I now have the weekend to relax in my sweatpants and eat cake". You tried to make light of the situation. 
"What the hell Bucky?" Sam glared at him. 
"Sam, it's ok, you guys go and have a good time".
You smiled at them while you were walking away. Nat rolled her eyes at Bucky and walked with you to your room.
"Are you ok?" Nat asked while following you in. 
"I'm good". You looked at the garment bag you hung up. 
"I thought things were going great. You sat down on the bed. “I had thought he was liking me. We were spending time together and having a good time".
"Want me to stab him?" Nat asked. 
"No" you chuckled at her. 
"It's not his fault. It's crazy Sharon's and forgetful Steve's fault" you mumbled.
Nat watched you intently.
"It's really ok Nat" you reassured her.
"I'll take the gown back tomorrow".
"Ok". Nat stood up.
"Sure you're ok?" she asked. 
"I'm good". You gave her a proud smile. 
"Liar" she said as she was leaving your room. 
When she left, you got up, locked the door, and proceeded to fling yourself down on your bed and cry silent tears. You had thought this weekend would be an amazing one, spending it with Bucky, dressing up, dancing, and possibly telling him how you felt. You felt stupid, awkward, and sad all at the same time.
"Morning Y/n" Sam said from the kitchen table. 
"Morning Sam". You grabbed a coffee sitting down next to him. 
"Hey, I was thinking..."
Sam looked at you. 
"Come with me to the ball".
You thought about it.
'It's ok Sam".
Just then Bucky walked into the kitchen. He looked tired as he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a little unkempt. He noticed you and Sam were sitting at the table. He grabbed a coffee and walked to the couch, not wanting to talk to anyone. 
"It'll be fun". Sam squeezed your hand. 
"You already have a dress, so just come with me...please?" Sam whined.
You thought about it some more. It could be fun going to a ball as you've never been to one even if it was with Sam and not Bucky as you had hoped. Sam was a lot of fun so you knew it would be a good time. 
"Ugh, Ok, fine Sam!"
"Yes!"
Bucky heard this and got up from the couch. Steve and Sharon walked into the kitchen. 
"Looks like you have to return your gown" Sharon smirked at you while she helped herself to a muffin. 
"Actually, Sam is taking me". 
"That's great Y/n" Steve said. 
You thought Sharon scowled at your words but couldn't quite tell as Bucky stepped in front of her to re-fill his mug. You noticed he had a small grin on his face, but he turned around before you could see him fully.
The day before the ball, you and Sam packed the truck and went back to the kitchen to say goodbye to Nat. As you were talking with Nat, you saw Sharon, Steve, Bucky, and a blonde girl follow behind.
"Guys, this is Ella, Ella, this is everyone" Sharon announced to the room. 
"Ella will be accompanying Bucky this weekend. She's in the records department at SHIELD".
 Sharon looked directly at you. 
You wanted to punch Sharon so bad you were clenching your fists tightly to compose yourself.
Of course, Ella was beautiful with her full pouty lips, dark green eyes, beautiful blonde hair, and tanned skin.
You wanted to slink away under the bridge you felt you now lived under while you stood next to her.
How is Ella so perfect looking?
"Nice to meet you".
Bucky had his head down but was looking at you the entire time. He saw the hurt on your face but felt he was unable to do anything about it. 
"Well, we should go!"
Steve happily announced and oblivious to the tension in the room.
The four of them were driving too, in one small car.
Great.
Bucky and Ella would be crammed in the backseat for the entire drive, touching their legs together and having to make small talk with each other. You suddenly felt a little queasy and sick to your stomach. Thank God Nat stood up and hugged you tight as you felt lightheaded from the stress. 
"Don't worry, try and have a good time. It's only a weekend" she whispered to you as she squeezed you. 
"I know".
"See ya Nat."
Sam walked you to his truck. 
"Want me to say anything?" Sam asked as you drove away. 
"No, it's ok. I'm looking forward to going. I think it’ll be fun." You patted him on his arm.
You arrived in DC and the hotel you were staying at. You were thankful that it was across the street from the event centre where the ball was being held and you had your own room. You and Sam had adjoining rooms, so you were happy about that. When you saw Bucky walking down your hall, he opened the door next to Sam's. If he wanted, he too could have opened his adjoining room so you would be altogether, but he didn't. This made you slightly sad. You had no idea where Steve or Sharon ended up since you didn't see them on your floor and truthfully, you didn't care either. You were thankful Bucky had the last room on the hall as Ella was also no where to be found either.
You managed to find a hair and makeup stylist to come to your hotel room the day of the ball to help you get ready. Lots of people were staying at the hotel who were also going to the ball, so there was a lot of energy happening. You were excited, yet slightly sad about the night ahead.
Sam hung out with you until the stylist arrived, leaving you to get ready. He did tell you that Bucky spent most of the day inside of his room and away from Sharon, Steve, and Ella. Part of you was glad but the other part of you wanted to hang out with him and him not be sad.
The stylist took almost two hours with you, perfecting your hair and makeup. You opted for a more dramatic make up look instead of the usual natural and simple look you normally had. You also let the stylist keep your wavy hair natural, putting product in it to keep it shiny and defined.
He left your hair mostly down putting some of the front pieces back and away from your face. For parties, you mostly wore your hair up or away off your face in a low bun, so this look was completely different than what you normally had. You thanked him as he left your room leaving you to change into your dress.
You put on your accessories, grabbed your clutch, and put your shoes on just in time for Sam to walk into your room. 
"Wow!" he exclaimed as he spun you around. 
"You look amazing Y/n".
"Thanks Sam".
You leaned up and kissed his cheek.
He was wearing a simple black tux with a small American flag pin on his lapel. 
"Man, you're lookin' good". You smiled at him and adjusted his pin. 
"C'mon, let's go".
Sam took your arm and walked you to your door. 
You were in the elevator when it stopped two floors below you. The doors opened and you saw Steve enter and Sharon behind him. Ella walked in and Bucky was behind her. The doors closed and it was the most awkward four-minute elevator ride you have ever been on.
You noticed Sharon's dress first. It was a dark blue dress and was shiny satin. Her hair was pinned up in a loose bun. Steve had a dark blue tux on that brought out his eyes. He was quite handsome and honestly, they looked good together you thought to yourself. You looked at Ella, and she was wearing a tight red lacy dress that hugged her tiny figure, her hair was up, and her makeup was soft looking. She looked beautiful too and part of you wanted to slap your own face for thinking that, but it was true, she was beautiful. She reminded you of Rapunzel you thought to yourself.
You looked over at Bucky who was also wearing a simple black tux, but he was in all black including his shirt and tie. He looked amazing as the darkness of the tux brought out his clear blue eye colour even more. He was also looking at you too, unable to take his eyes off you.
Sam nudged your arm as he saw Bucky staring at you, but you just ignored it since Ella had him tightly by the arm and was laughing at something Sharon whispered. You wanted to now punch them both out you thought to yourself. Sam squeezed your arm as the doors opened.
He could feel you tense up and smiled softly at you. 
"It's going to be ok" he whispered as you both walked across the street to the event centre which looked like the Fourth of July threw up all its decorations on the outside of it.
You walked into the ballroom with Sam on your side and found your table. Luckily, Sam knew almost everyone sitting at the table, so you were able to make small talk with everyone. This made the dinner less awkward and by the time dessert was served, everyone was laughing and having fun.
You glanced over every so often at Steve and Bucky's table. They were sitting and staring awkwardly at each other which made you giggle and slightly feel bad. Your table was the life of the party, and you were having a good time. You sat next to a fighter pilot whose name was Mark. He was dashing, smart, and funny making you giggle and laugh at his corny jokes, but you felt he was a bit too cocky and sure of himself.
Once the formal dinner and speeches were finished it was time for the party to start. You noticed Steve and Bucky's table scatter, leaving the four of them alone. Ella was draping herself all over Bucky and laughing extra hard and loud at the things he was saying.
He wasn't that funny.
Wait, he was funny as you thought about the last mission you were on and the laughs you shared together.
He had a quick wit that was slightly sarcastic as you thought more about it. Damn him.
Your heart kept breaking the more you stared at them.
Luckily, fighter pilot Mark tapped you on the shoulder and asked you to dance which you accepted and moved to the dancefloor. When you walked by Steve and Bucky's table, Bucky brushed his hand in yours causing you to stop slightly as he smiled up at you. You smiled at him but quickly walked with Mark to the dancefloor. You danced to the songs and were able to grab a drink from the bar as Mark excused himself to go and chat with more people.
You saw Bucky keep his eyes on you when you danced which only made you feel weirder and more uneasy. You noticed Bucky was still at the table with Ella, but you saw she had her back turned to him and was now focused on something Sam was saying. Good god you thought to yourself.
You noticed Sam sat down at Steve and Bucky's table so they could all chat together. You wandered around the room, taking in the decorations and band when you noticed a small, quiet area off to the corner where there were couches and a fireplace.
Thankfully the room was empty as you sat down on a couch in front of a fireplace and closed your eyes. You closed your eyes and rubbed your forehead with your hands and stretched out your neck moving it from side to side trying to release some tension. When you opened your eyes, Bucky was standing in front of you. 
"Can I sit down?" he asked. 
"Sure". You smiled at him.
"Look, I'm sorry about this whole situation". Bucky said. 
"I never thought Steve would do this".
Bucky turned to face you. 
"I should have asked you to be my date here sooner but then our mission was approaching, and we had to prepare for that. Then we were on the mission and honestly, I forgot all about it until Steve reminded me when we got back. He said there was a plus one for me and I instantly thought of taking you. I asked you and was surprised you said yes not understanding Steve had a plus one already for me." Bucky admitted.
"It's ok Buck. I was happy you asked me to accompany you. I was looking forward to being your date to this. I was sad when you told me Steve and Sharon had a date for you, but I understand there was nothing you could do. It was an awkward situation for you."
"Really?"
"Really, it's ok. It turns out I am kind of here with you anyways thanks to Sam". You grabbed his hand. 
Bucky smiled at you and looked down at your connected hands. He would have to thank Sam about this later he thought to himself.
"By the way, how is your date anyways? I didn't see you dancing with her. You like to dance right?" you smirked. 
"Ugh, don't get me started. I don't want to be near her. She's fake and kind of mean. Her laugh is the most annoying as she sounds like a dying hyena. I see why her, and Sharon get along so well" Bucky admitted rubbing the back of his neck. 
You snorted a giggle which caused Bucky to laugh. 
"Sorry." You rubbed your nose.
"Since Sam sat down at the table, she ignored me and is now all over him" Bucky said with slight disgust. 
"I saw that guy you were dancing with earlier; he's danced with half of the ladies here already" Bucky frowned. 
"Oh, you mean Fighter Pilot Mark. He's a nice guy, but I don't trust him. Too flashy for me. I prefer quiet, kind, slightly sarcastic, handsome, 107-year-old men. Know anyone who fits that description?"
He blushed and smiled back. 
"I think I do".
Bucky was inching closer to you on the couch. 
"Can I tell you something Y/n?"
You nodded.
"You're the most beautiful woman here. You look stunning. That dress is gorgeous on you". Bucky whispered in your ear giving shivers down your back. 
"Don't tell Sam this because it would totally go to his head, but I wished I was him when he got to escort you here".
Bucky now sat dangerously close to you. How did that happen?
His thigh was now touching yours and his arm was wrapped around your waist as he held you.
"I won't" you smiled.
"Can I kiss you?" Bucky whispered in your ear. 
You nodded and leaned into him as he gave you a warm, soft kiss.
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ddejavvu · 2 years
Note
This might be terrible, but Eddie and Steve relentlessly teasing you because they think the reader has a crush on someone but the crush is them and Eddie is just being pervy about it while Steve is making light hearted jabs like "I know who you like" and the reader freaks out a bit.
Sorry for the ramble 😅
part I | part II | part III | part IV
"Why so tense?" Eddie's ring-clad fingers grip tight at your shoulders, the heels of his palms digging into your neck. You tense at the sudden contact, his frizzy curls dangling over your face as he leans over you from behind.
Your shoes raise off of the sticky food-court floor, a sickening squelch coming from the soles. You stiffen under Eddie's touch, feeling his fingers prod relentlessly into the sensitive muscles in your shoulders. He has no idea what he's doing to you.
"She's looking for the guy," Steve offers with a sly smirk, "She's got a crush."
Your heart stops in your chest. Steve knows. Eddie knows. They know. You tense impossibly tighter at Steve's bold statement, and Eddie picks up on it, a shit-eating grin sneaking over his face.
"Oh," Eddie practically purrs, "Do tell, Harrington."
"I'm not telling you who it is," Steve scoffs, and your heart leaps in your chest: he knows who it is?
"Baby," Eddie cranes your neck up with a finger to your jaw, peering down at you indignantly, "You told him, but you won't tell me?"
The pet name sends butterflies swarming in your tummy, "I didn't tell him," You insist, "Honest! And- and I don't have a crush on anyone! You guys are mean."
You dismiss them huffily, poking at your pitiful pasta. You shouldn't have gotten spaghetti, the sauce is watery and the meatballs are dry. But it keeps you distracted from the hot water you've just landed yourself in, and you stuff your mouth so they can't get any further answers from you. The mischievous smirk on Steve's face had been wildly attractive, and Eddie's finger is still hooked under your jaw.
"Right," Eddie drawls, his well-manicured digit slipping beneath the strap of your bra and giving it a sharp snap to your skin, "That's why you wore your pretty pink one?"
"Dude," Steve grimaces at him, "You know which bras are her good ones?"
"'Course I know," Eddie boasts, "I pay attention."
To your tits?
Your cheeks flare with heat at Eddie's flirtatious statement, and Steve watches you squirm. He reaches over to swat Eddie's hand away. The metalhead sits down with a huff, propping his chin up in his hand and staring imploringly at you with his big brown doe eyes.
You're not sure which is worse. Steve's kind concern for your comfort, or Eddie's relentless banter. But then both happen at the same time, and you realize they're both equally terrible for your health.
"You know if you get a big dumb boyfriend," Eddie speaks, his voice soft to your ears, "You can't leave us in the dust."
"He's right." You know Steve will regret saying those words for the rest of his life, but he squints suspiciously at you, "We want you to be happy, and all. But if you stop coming over for movie night, we'll start a riot or something."
"A riot," You scoff, busying yourself by poking at your cold pasta, your voice downtrodden, "I'm not gonna get a boyfriend, Steve."
"Hey, don't say that!" Steve reaches out to swat gently at your shoulder, "He must be really dumb if he's gonna reject you or something."
He is, you think, watching Eddie's amused smile at your growing embarrassment, though concern hides behind it. Then Steve, who, bless his heart, hasn't ever picked up on blatant flirting, now claiming himself to be the pinnacle of stupidity.
Something is absurd about the situation, and you let out a snort, "Yeah, he's fucking brainless."
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1800jjbarnes · 20 days
Text
𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲
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【Synopsis】 : Your two roommates love to make it hard for you to find a partner… but what happens when they stop you at the door of your apartment and "convince" you that you deserve better.
『Word Count』 : 1.06k
-> Genre: Suggestive, Angst. Fluff. Slice Of Life Au
Pairing: Stucky x Female!Reader
[Warnings] : Swearing. Mention of shitting dates and shit men. Fingering. Talks about sex. Use of the word cock. Dirty talk. Dom/sub play. Power play. Reader is lowkey a brat. Neck kisses. Begging.
Masterlist | Navigation
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You wanted to look good, be good. Be enough. And tonight was your night. You dressed up in a beautiful and mostly sexy outfit, wanting to impress and attract this new guy you were seeing. Well, speaking to mostly online. This would be the first time you’d be meeting him and you hadn’t planned to be in a position of being fucked, but if it were to happen you were more than prepared. Grabbing your keys off your side table and checking yourself once more in the mirror before heading towards the door quickly so you don’t run into your roommates. 
“And where do you think you're going?”
Fuck… You freeze in your spot, hearing the deep grumble behind you, mostly coming from the archway leading to the kitchen. You spin on your heels to face the beefy man behind you. He looked like he had just woken up, with his tight muscle-t hugging his chest, while his black joggers weren't doing anything to your imagination on his clear erection. “Oh, Heyyy Jamie. I was just… Heading out..”
You knew he wasn’t stupid and you knew for a fact he had noticed you were more attentive to your phone and practically glued every time a notification popped up. But to be fair you were probably touch-starved, and an attention whore so it wasn’t your fault. “Don’t go on that date.”
“Why?” You snapped
“You know why.” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. You step towards him getting in his face with slight frustration. You knew Bucky and Steve liked to tease and flirt with you but every time without fail, when you went out on a date they always found a way to make you not go, or take you somewhere else instead. And they would always say it’s because they didn’t like the men you chose or the people to picked and ‘None of them are good to you. You deserved better.’ But deep down you knew, or more wanted them to say something else. Say it was ‘cause they wanted you, they want to be with you. But no. They were your roommates and nothing more. 
“Say it…” You're right in his face, holding your ground. He seemed surprised by your actions, usually, you would come quietly but this time he was seeing a new side to you. A bratty one. His smirk made your blood boil, was he enjoying your suffering? 
“What's going on here?” Steve walked in with a groggy voice and blood-red eyes, most likely being at his desk all afternoon working. “Why do you look all dolled up?”
You huffed crossing your arms in front of your chest, staring at the two annoying boys. They quickly exchanged looks and when Steve hummed lowly, it was like they both had a mental conversation. “ You seeing a guy?” Steve spoke up.
“And you care again, why? It’s not like you’re my boyfriends.” You rolled your eyes, turning your back to them. You started putting on your shoes, ignoring the clear anger rising in Bucky and the frustration in Steve. 
“Why do we care—ha. You aren’t worth those disgusting men's time.” Bucky cut himself off, scoffing at your words. "Those boys you see are a waste. And you don't need to throw yourself at them."
Throw?! Did he really say you throw yourself at men? All you do is try and get Bucky and Steve’s attention, and they never reciprocated it. So you kind of had to look elsewhere. You felt invisible around them like you were nothing more than a roommate. You couldn’t even find any combat to his harsh words, so instead, you turned around to leave while scoffing in disbelief. “Whatever, I’m going.”
Before you could grab the door handle a pair of large hands grabbed your waist, pulling you backwards until your back hit a very broad chest. A hand snaked around your chest up to your neck until fingers grip your chin tilting your head to the side so your face was suddenly inches away from Steve?!
“S-Stevie?!” You never even heard him walking towards you let alone being right behind you. Did he push Bucky out of the way from the small hallway? Why was he suddenly so close to you, to the point you could feel his heartbeat against your back, and his breath on your lips? 
“Close your eyes.” His voice was low and deep, like velvet and cream. God, you felt so wobbly from his hold. You didn’t listen, eyes darting between his own trying to understand what he could mean.
“W-what?” you stuttered.
“I said…” His hand moved from your waist to the hem of your hands, fingers dipping slightly into the top of your jeans. Your breath hitched suddenly figuring out what he wanted, what you now wanted. “Close your eyes, Angel. Trust me.”
Your eyes shut quickly, maybe too quickly and that’s probably was you could hear a low chuckle erupts from Steve. You felt Steve’s hand slip further into your jeans and you wiggled in anticipation. You wanted so badly to open your eyes and take a peek at Steve but you tried your hardest to listen to his orders, and when you were about to whine in frustration another pair of hands gripped your wrist, swinging your body until your back hit the wall with a huff.
This time you opened your eyes, staring Bucky right in his dark eyes. He and Steve were caging you against the wall, and Steve wasted no time in latching his lips on your neck, making you whine all the while you were never leaving Bucky’s stare. 
“My, My is this what we needed to do in order for you to listen to us, we would of done it sooner.” His tone mocked you, making a shiver ripple down your spine. You couldn’t understand where all of this was coming from but you feared to ask as words might make them stop so instead, you whimpered. “I bet you feel so good coming around a cock huh?”
You gasped suddenly feeling Steve’s cold fingers slip into your jeans, past your panties and pressing harshly down on your clit. Your mind becomes clouded and your heart races, hips grind on his hand to ease your frustration. “P-please…” You beg for something, anything. For one or both of them to hurry up and give you the pleasure you’ve been so desperately craving for who knows how long now.
“So pretty when she begs huh?” Steve purrs in your ear, making your eyes leave Buck for a split second to look over to the shorter male. Bucky took your distraction to step closer until all three of your bodies were smooched against one another in the tight hallway. Hands everywhere, feeling any part of your flesh they could find. While two tongues lick along your neck and exposed chest. You were overwhelmed and both of them were going to use it to their advantage and make sure by the end of the night you were nothing but a whimpering, crying mess.
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irishhappiness · 3 months
Text
Clinginess
Summary: When you hear someone say that you are clingy, you tried to give your boyfriend the space that he needs.
Pairing: Boyfriend/Avenger Steve Rogers x Female Reader
Word count: 2204
Warning: Angst
A/N: I don’t think I will have time to post something lese before the end of the year. I wanted to write something where the reader is perceive as clingy against Steve. I am not sure that I did a good job but hopefully you will like it.
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After the last mission, Tony decided to celebrate. It was a very hard one, and he needed it to destress. The other Avengers were quieter but still decided to go.
Having Steve Rogers as your man meant that you had to go to events with him. Sometimes, you really were going just for him. You knew that he wasn't a fan of the attention and would prefer not to go where they were to many people. You knew that he liked your relaxing presence. He told it to you several times. You believed him. Of course you did. He would never lie to you, right?
Well, you weren't sure anymore. You were in the ladies' room when you heard two women starting to talk. At the beginning, it seemed meaningless until you heard Steve's name.
"I don't know how he does it. She is so clingy. Did you see how she is attached to him by his arms like she can't breathe without him?"
"To be fair, I would do the same if I was in her shoes."
"No, you wouldn't. You are not pathetic. You would let a man talk to someone without you for five minutes."
Your heart started to shrink. Were you really like this? Weren't you letting Steve be himself and talk to who he wanted?
"He must be suffocating. I am sure he doesn't tell her because she will cry. She seems like she would cry about everything."
"Well, if she does, that must be so annoying. I am sure he wouldn't like to be around someone who cries all the time with what he is dealing on a daily basis."
"True. Let's see if we can have a chat with him."
"Well, we both know it will be you that he would be interested in talking to."
"Maybe, but you are my wingwoman."  
"I prefer when you call me your best friend."
They laugh before leaving. You stayed a bit longer in the cubicle. Your eyes were filled with tears. You needed to get yourself together before going back to the party. You took your phone to look at some videos of animals. You knew that it would help to give you back a smile.
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Steve found you at the bar, asking for another drink. He asked for a whiskey while you stayed there. He looked at you, surprised. You didn't kiss him hello. He took your hand.
"I missed you."
"I missed you too."
You weren't really convincing. Your voice was tern but broken at the same time. Steve didn't like that. He didn't have time to ask you anything that Bucky was coming to join you.
The rest of the evening, Steve wondered what he did wrong. You weren't touching him, kissing him or really talking to him. It was so strange that he was taken aback by it. You never were like this. You were a physical person and he liked it.
Three hours later and the party started to slow down. Bucky asked Steve what happened for you two, not to be against each other. Steve didn't know what he did, and he pained him to see you like this.
Even when you went back to your share bedroom, it didn't feel the same. He tried to hug you and kiss you. You let him do it but didn't reciprocate the love and warmth. You could have. It was only the two of you now, but you felt guilty.
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Things cool down. You went back to your normal self. Steve tried not to think too much about what happened. He tried to make you talk, but you told him it was nothing. He knew that you would talk to him if you really needed it.
However, when the Christmas party arrived, you didn't feel like it. It was really strange. Steve always saw you all smily, happy and singing when the holidays were coming. You were the one who was the most enthusiastic of them all. You, who didn't like parties, always loved this one. Tony always had nice surprises, and you loved the trees.
As soon as you arrived in the room full of guest, you acted distant and almost cold, telling Steve that he should talk to people without you. He got worried. He didn't t like that at all. Things were better but now, you acted once again strangely. He wondered if you wanted to break up with him. He couldn't understand why. Things were well before the last party. He remembered exactly when your attitude changed, being hurt by it. However, if you wanted to leave him, you had to tell him now. He would not go through another party without you.
He took your hand and put you aside. His heart was beating so fast, afraid of your response.
"Please tell me what's going on. Are you mad at me?"
"Why would I be mad?"
"I don't know, but you are not yourself. It's like you forgot that you love me."
"What are you talking about?"
"Do you want me to talk to other people because you want to meet new ones without me? You are not touching me, and don’t talk to me. Do you want to break up with me? You need to tell me now."
"Oooh."
You didn't imagine he would think that you didn't want him anymore. Now you didn't know how to tell the things.
"Please tell me what happened. What did I do? One minute, things are fine, and the next, you don't want to be with me. You can tell me anything. I won't be mad. I just need to know why."
You looked at your hands like if they were the most interesting things in the world. Steve urged you. He couldn’t leave without you and even less, let you leave without knowing what happened.
"Please, What did I do?"
You can't let him think that it's his fault when it's entirely yours. You never took his personal space into consideration. You knew that now.
"I didn't realised that I was selfish. You don't like to be touched."
Steve was surprised by your answer. He imagined all the answers except this one.
"What are you talking about? Where does it come from?"
"Hum, nowhere."
"Baby, what's going on?"
You lost it, frustrated that he didn't understand. You did that for him, not because you were happy about it.
"I am giving you the space that you need. I am too clingy. I am always in your arms and touching you, and nobody can talk to you without me being here. I thought this was what you wanted."
You didn't look at him. You were too ashamed to not have realised it by yourself.
Steve was baffled. He didn't know where you heard this, but he definitively didn't like it and was angry. You were his sweet and loving girlfriend, soon to be fiancée if you accepted his proposal on Christmas day, and you deserved to touch him as much as you wanted.
"Y/N, look at me."
You put your head up, tears filling your eyes. You hated to be this sensitive. He didn't deserve that. He took you in his arms, kissing your temple. He made sure that you were looking at him.
"Do you remember when we started to date?"
You didn't understand what it was coming from but nodded.
"You were always touching me. It was soft, subtle, and sometimes fast but always there. In the beginning, it was sometimes unsettling because I wasn't used to it. However, I never said anything because I realised that you did it without thinking. It's just who you are. It's natural. It's a second part of you, and with time, I realised that it actually made me feel better and that when I didn't have my daily dose, I was becoming irritated and angry."
He didn't stop to look at you, being sure that you looked back at him.
"I need this as much as you do. I am sure that the person who said that was just jealous to not be able to talk to you or I alone. A lot of women want to talk to me, and they don't like that I have only eyes for you."
He kissed you softly.
"I need you to keep them away from me because there is no way that I am going to lay eyes on someone else, not when I have you by my side."
"Steve..."
You loved him so much and wished that he was yours and only yours. However, you could see that the women in this soirée were each one more beautiful but especially more badass than you.
"Baby, I mean it. I only have eyes for you and your beautiful soul. Nobody can compare to you."
He kissed with again, but this time, like if his life depended on it. He hugged you, kissing your head before he took your hand, interlinking your fingers.
"We are going to show them who is the most clingy between you and I."
During the full evening, he kept you close to him, even closer than usual. Your back pressing against his chest while his arms circled you. There was no way that he was letting you go for a second, even accompanying you when you needed to go to the ladies room. He will not let some gossip make you think that he didn't need you as much as you needed him.
When he felt you tense in his arms, he searched for what made you feel that way. He saw two women. He recognised them. The brown one tried to talk to him several times at the last party, flirting with him.
He caressed your arm before turning you. He kissed you, putting you closer to him if it was even possible. His hands rammed your body, and you couldn't help a moan leave your lips. Steve and you always have been discreet about you relationship even if you were always touching each other, you never really kissed and even less touched each other like this in front of anybody. When he broke the kiss, he looked over your head, seeing that the two women weren’t here anymore.
"What happened to you punk? Not that I didn't enjoy the show."
Steve kept his eyes on you. He wanted you to feel all his love.
"I just needed to kiss my wife."
You froze for a second before moving from his body.
"Your what?"
Steve was like a deer caught in the lights. He looked at each member of the team that had been gathered around you for a moment. All of them, nodding. It wasn't how he wanted to ask you, but it was too late now. He couldn't ask you to wait. His eyes found yours.
"Y/N, it's not how I planned this. I know you don't like the attention, but I think it's too late to take a step back now. When I first met you, you were just this bubbly young woman who was helping the team and was giving compliments to everybody in the hope that it would brighten their day. When you accepted to go on a date with me, I couldn't contain my excitement and tonight even less. You are the purest woman I ever had the pleasure to meet. You are the kindest and most empathic of us all. When I am not with you, I am counting the minutes that separate us. I can't imagine my life without you, and I don't want to. My dear Y/N, will you marry me?"
Your eyes were feeling with tears. You wanted to be his wife so much that you couldn't believe it. He was such a perfect man. You jumped into his arms to kiss him. The entire team and the other guests applauded.
"I suppose it's a yes."
He let you put your feet on the ground.
"I am sorry, I don't have the ring, it's upstairs."
Bucky took a box from his jacket, giving it to his best friend. Steve looked at him, surprised but smiling. He could always count on him even without any knowing it.
"I could feel that you would blow it before Christmas. You almost did it like ten times."
Steve blushed. He was so impatient to propose to you even with what was happening. He opened the little box, revealing a small ring that looked like if it was from the 40s. You gasped, tears now dropping on your cheeks. It was the most beautiful ring you ever saw in your life. Steve knew that you were trying to make him feel welcome in this new millennium, but you never wanted him to feel out of his time and like if his life before didn't matter. You told him that you wished you could have met him when he was younger, before the serum.
"Steve, it's so beautiful."
He put the ring on your finger before kissing you. You weren't thinking about what happened a few moments ago or your insecurities. This man was about to be yours for the rest of your life.
@mochie85 ❤️
587 notes · View notes
myfictionaldreams · 10 months
Note
Hey, can you do something with where the reader is pregnant in mafia stucky and Bucky and Steve are super protective about her?
Xoxo
Our Little Bean // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader
A/N: Thank you for your request, this has been requested quite a few times by many people so I hope you do enjoy!
Important note for readers: I'm currently working within maternity services within the UK so the pregnancy side of this is all based on a UK perspective but it's set in the US so apologies if anything is different over there. Also, the signs and symptoms are based on my bestie's pregnancy so thank you for letting me use these!
ALSO: I'm sorry if I don't do any more pregnancy/baby fics, I wanted to just do this one and return to the normal trio we had before.
Tags: 18+ readers only, unplanned pregnancy, fluff (LOTS!), comfort, soft steve/bucky, protectiveness, pregnancy kink, pet names, pregnancy symptoms discussed in detail, crying, family/domestic fluff, tooth-rotting goodness!
Words: 6.9k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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Your nausea never seemed to settle, barely being able to keep down dry toast or sips of water and then there was the immense exhaustion, finding yourself to be lucky if you were awake for an hour before falling asleep again. This, paired with the dizzy spells and dull aches in your temples, it was safe to say that you were done with feeling unwell and you definitely blamed Sam Wilson for this. He’d turned up to work last week feeling unwell, slightly different symptoms to yours as he had a head cold but ill nonetheless and now, here you were, collapsed onto the couch in the living room, under a mount of blankets.
It wasn’t all bad however as Bucky had stayed home to look after you and he was doing a good job of it too, but he and Steve were always extra attentive when you were unwell and had been taking it in turns to stay home, with Steve having stayed with you yesterday.
Bucky today had helped you wash, changed into fresh pyjamas and then carried downstairs, tucking you into your little fort before sitting on the floor and reading the book you were halfway through reading. You were too tired to read and didn’t want to keep your eyes open so Bucky offered, which was hilarious to hear him trying to read along and then asking questions as to the type of books you’ve been reading.
“So who is this Rhysand guy? Just some hotshot king or something?” he asked, lowering the book to look at your resting face. You smiled tiredly at his question, opening one eye to look into his confused expression, he was already invested in your book, even though he had started more than halfway through.
“Something like that”, you replied, voice croaking from needing water which he was quick to notice, lifting the glass with the straw to your mouth and you hummed your thanks, taking a sip and closing your eye once more.
You fell back to sleep again and woke to be carried, noticing that it was dark outside with another day passing as Steve carried you up the stairs, having returned home from work. Your arms were trapped into the blanket cocooned you were being carried in so you nuzzled your face into his neck to let him know you were awake.
Steve tilted his head, kissing the top of yours as he placed you into the centre of your shared bed, “think you’re up for eating some chicken noodle soup?”
“Did you make it?”, your voice was full of hope as you blinked open your eyes to look up at him but made no attempt to move just yet.
“Of course, only the best for you”. Steve left to retrieve your soup, giving you time for another quick snooze, before he was back and shaking your shoulders. With his help, you untangled yourself from the soft blankets and attempted to sit up but were hit with a wave of dizziness, having to stop and close your eyes to get your bearings straight before it subsided and you could sit up properly. Steve was looking at you with a knowing glance as he sat on the edge of the bed, a warm noodle soup bowl in his lap that he began to spoon-feed you - something he insisted on. “You know I’m going to call the doctor, right?”
You release a frustrated huff, you didn’t need the doctor, “It’s fine though, it’ll pass. Sam said it took him 4 days before he started to feel better and I’m only on day 3”.
“Baby, you’re on day 4 and you said this all yesterday and it’s only getting worse”, he stated everything matter-of-factly but you were still shocked that you’d somehow missed an entire day. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see a doctor and there was no use arguing with Steve when it came to your health.
So after you’d finished half a bowl of the soup before feeling queasy, Steve excused himself to call his doctor who just so happened to be a close family friend. Of course, you had fallen asleep before the Doctor arrived and being rudely awakened made you feel even more groggy and unwell as Steve whispered, “Sorry honey, but Doctor Banner’s here to check you over”.
Steve excused himself so the Doctor could check you over properly without feeling pressured by the mafia boss in the room. Doctor Banner put you at ease though with his warming personality and you’d met him on a few occasions anyway when Steve or Bucky were more injured through an event with work, but you’d never had him look after you before.
The two of you ran through the general list, ‘When did you start feeling like this?’, ‘What are your symptoms?’, before he began doing your vital signs, temperature and blood pressure, all just normal procedures.
“Could you be pregnant?” he casually asked as he velcroed the blood pressure cuff from your arm.
Frowning you answered, “Um no…no, I’m on birth control, so I shouldn’t be”.
“Do you mind if we do a quick test just to tick it off of the list? All you need to do is pee in this cup and I’ll dip a test strip into it”.
You wobbled to the toilet on unsteady feet, realising this is probably the first time you’d properly walked in days because the boys insisted on carrying you everywhere. As you used the toilet, you didn’t think anything of the test, leaving the cup on the side for the doctor and returning back to bed, wondering if he’s going to give you some antibiotics or just see how you get on over the next few days.
After a few minutes, your eyes were closed but you could hear the Doctor returning so you asked, “So, do you think it’s just the flu like I said-”
“It’s not the flu, your test was positive”.
Your eyes snap open to look at him, sitting up and feeling dizzy but ignoring it, “what? What do you mean it’s positive?”
Doctor Bruce held up the little white strip that had two purple lines on it. You looked between the test and his face as he calmly smiled, “You’re pregnant”.
“What if the test is wrong? Can we do it again?” Thankfully he didn’t fight you on this and gave you the packet of tests, you grabbed two and stumbled back to the bathroom. Both strips gave the exact result and now it felt like your heart was coming out of your mouth it was pounding so hard and loudly in your ears.
“Take a deep breath for me”, Doctor Banner calmly instructed as he placed a steady hand on your back in case you needed extra support. You took a few deep breaths, not even realising that you had been holding your breath. Gripping onto the bathroom side, you began to feel dizzy again so he helped you back to bed waiting until you were settled before continuing.
“This explains your symptoms, I’d say you were in your early stages of pregnancy so we’ll book an appointment with the midwife tomorrow and sort out things like a scan. You may feel that your symptoms get worse over the next few weeks and if they do, you can always call me back but otherwise, stay rested and take it easy”.
You were only half listening. Midwife? Scans? Symptoms getting worse? There was so much for your brain to process. There was an actual baby inside of your body right now, a part of you and… who? Your anxiety was increasing with each second as you tried to let the words sink in as the Doctor packed his stuff away. Did you want to have a baby right now? You had always wanted kids but were you even ready at this stage of your life but then again… was anyone ready for a baby when they were accidentally knocked up?
Then the knocked-up by who question echoed through your thoughts. You obviously didn’t know if the baby was Steve's or Bucky’s, so would they be upset about this? If it was planned at least there could be some way you could arrange who to have sex with to know for sure but now… you were all in the dark about the paternity. You didn’t care if it was Steve or Bucky, you were always a trio in every sense of the word but now that this was your reality, would they be pissed off? And were they even ready for kids? The business took so much of their time and was still very dangerous but this was bound to happen eventually as you all wanted children.
Bucky and Steve had always been very open that they wanted kids, especially Bucky with his affection name for you being ‘mama’, he often would talk about his fantasy of seeing you barefoot and pregnant with his kid. So, at least you knew they were on the same page about wanting to have children but now it was the stress of is now the right time and who was the father of the baby?
You were vaguely aware of the Doctor bidding his farewells, “I’ll speak to you tomorrow and I’ll let you tell your partners the good news”. You offered a half-assed wave to him as he left, before staring at your hands in your lap, completely petrified for the next few minutes.
Steve and Bucky wandered in a few beats later, sitting on either side of you on the bed but you couldn’t look them in the eye, trying desperately to hold it together.
“Everything ok, Doll? The Doc didn’t tell us what was wrong, just said you would explain”, Bucky asked, stroking a finger down your arm to try and soothe you but it was enough to make you break.
You burst into tears, hiding your face in your hands.
“Honey? What is it? Talk to us”, Steve encouraged, attempting to pull your hands away from  your face but you held them there tightly so instead, he pulled your body into his lap, your legs over his thighs so that you could hide your face into his chest, the sobs building in intensity and everything was just so overwhelming. You were excited, scared, relieved but nervous, it was a lot to handle.
Steve and Bucky encouraged you to talk to them both, becoming more unsettled with your increasing hysterics. It took a few minutes to calm down, and it helped as Bucky held both your hands, rubbing circles into your skin and Steve wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close to his body. You decided it was better to just tell them than keep it to yourself any longer.
With your face still pressed into Steve’s face, you whispered “I’m pregnant”, however, it was so muffled and quiet that neither man heard you.
“What was that sweetheart?”, Steve asked, trying to pull you away enough that both men could see your tear-stained face.
The words sounded strange coming from your mouth as you kept your head hanging lowly, mumbling, “I’m pregnant”.
You knew that they had heard this time by the way both completely froze, not even breathing as they processed the news. Bucky finally whispered, “What?”
You still couldn’t look at him, scared you’d see disappointment or anger in his eyes.
“Are you sure?” Steve asked in such a faint voice you were shocked it was even from him.
Nodding your head at his question you explained, “We checked a couple of times, he thinks I’m still in my early pregnancy but-ah!”
You jumped as Bucky all but tackled you and Steve, his lips kissing every part of your face that he could reach and when he pulled back enough to cup your cheeks, you took in the glowing grin on his face, his eyes twinkling with love as he shouted, “you’re pregnant! We’re having a baby!”
Steve then seemed to snap out of his initial shock and his arms tightened and lifted your body further up so he could kiss your face just as happily as Bucky before nuzzling into your neck, breathing you in, “I love you so much sweetheart, I can’t believe it! Wait, why were you crying, are you not excited?”
He relaxed his hold on you so that they could both see you properly and you had room to look at them both. “I... I am excited! I just wasn’t sure how you would both react as I don’t know which of you is the dad-”
Bucky leans across and kisses your lips quickly cutting off your sentence, the grin still broad across his face, “I don’t fucking care, if the baby has my genes or Steve’s, we’re all in this together, remember? That’s what we’ve agreed on”.
“So you aren’t upset?” you wanted to clarify.
“Fuck no hot mama… and you’re actually going to be a mama! This little bean is ours, all of ours!”
You were crying again with relief, “you really mean that?”
His eyes softened, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Of course I do”.
“We both mean it, I… I can’t believe it, I’ve always wanted to be a Dad”, Steve admitted, kissing your temple and as you looked up, you could see his eyes glistening with unshed tears which only made you smile and cry harder.
Steve made the move first, lowering his hand over your abdomen, resting over your stomach where there was no bump yet but knowing there was something growing inside you, he couldn’t help the relieved gasp. Bucky was quick to cover his hand and yours on the top so the three of you were feeling where the baby would be. “I can’t believe we’re going to be parents!”
The next few days were a whirlwind of excitement and unimaginable joy whilst also still feeling relatively unwell, especially feeling more exhausted as you wanted to buy every pregnancy book and read them all but soon fell asleep with it open in your lap.
Then there was Steve and Bucky who could not contain their excitement, going above and beyond for you, especially with you still feeling ill. They would cook and feed you, if you were too tired, refill your glasses of water, constantly ask if you were comfortable and more than happy to fetch another pillow if needed. Not only this, but their levels of affection had increased massively, whispering their love for you at any opportunity, holding your hands, and lots of kisses, it was so nice to feel this level of love when going through such a life-changing experience.
Both of them had been just as motivated to read about pregnancy, birth, babies, and the whole lot from A to Z, they researched everything that was possible and then gave you the rundown on what your bodily changes would be including what you couldn’t eat, vowing to not eat the same items until you could which you didn’t seem necessary but appreciated the gesture.
Then there was the excitement of going to the Midwife’s appointment and it all became so much more real again, especially being able to book the ultrasound scan. This was where you found out that you were 8 weeks and 3 days and the entire world seemed to pause around the three of you as you watched your baby's tiny heartbeat on the screen.
To say you all cried was an understatement, all of you not taking your eyes off of the scan picture that was provided, the little bean was so tiny, only just being able to tell the outline of its arms and legs. Now it felt official. You, Steve and Bucky were going to have a baby.
Many things changed including protection that increased tenfold. Security around your home doubled and you had not only Sam Wilson as your bodyguard but also Natasha. Not only this but if you attending the business or in public, Steve and Bucky would crowd around you, almost like a human shield, their overprotective instincts on overdrive, even from people who were just at the check-outs in stores. Sam and Natasha were confused by the sudden dynamic intensity and it was hard to keep it all a secret but you had all decided to wait just a little while longer and continue with your unknown illness excuse just until the baby had grown a little bit bigger.
This was something else that you had to get used to with adjusting to the many bodily changes you were going through to adapt to growing this baby. A few days following the scan, you’d come downstairs to Steve cooking you scrambled eggs which were your usual favourite breakfast but as soon as you smelt those cooking eggs, you were gagging and rushing to the toilet, throwing up violently.
Your eyes were watering as you finally stopped emptying your stomach but still gagging as you could smell the lingering eggs in the air. A warm hand rubbed circles over your back, Steve’s apologetic voice came from behind you, “Sorry, baby. No more eggs”.
This was the first instance of vomiting and it wasn’t just eggs, as every single day you would be throwing up and then feeling extremely tired afterwards that you weren’t able to do much throughout the day but be with your head in the toilet or lying in bed. The boys were almost glued to your side during this time, worried that you weren’t keeping enough food or drinks down and even had to call Doctor Banner back just to check you weren’t too dehydrated.
Thankfully you hadn’t needed to go into hospital as your vomiting subsided but the nausea remained for a while.
“You sure she’s ok? She’s looking a little peaky,” Sam commented to Steve one day as he came to help guard the house and was having his lunch with you all but he took one look at you and knew something wasn’t right, even as you forced the sandwich into your mouth, making sure to still eat for you and baby… not that Sam knew about the baby.
“Yeah, she’s fine Sam, thanks for checking though and we appreciate the extra hours you’re doing”, Steve responded with a thankful grip on his friend's shoulder.
“It’s no problem man, just worried for her that’s all, don’t really understand what’s going on with you all, especially with the extra security and whatnot and I feel like I’ve hardly spoken to her for a few weeks now. Just want you to know I’m always here if you ever need anything”.
You felt guilty when Steve later told you what Sam had said, feeling bad that you were keeping it secret but it was only for a few more weeks.
Luckily, you had found the special trick to help your nausea as suggested by a friend: lavender! After sitting with a bag of dried lavender for a couple of hours and not feeling nauseous, Steve and Bucky were quick to fill the entire house with lavender-scented items including candles and sprays, even having some in the car and it helped to settle your nausea massively.
But, as soon as one symptom passed, another would be replacing the uncomfortable feeling. The next was your breasts becoming incredibly painful and sore, even if you accidentally knocked them when putting on a bra or rolling over in your sleep, it was agony. Your boyfriends were even more careful with you during this phase, getting ice to hold against them during particularly painful moments and being careful to give you enough room when asleep.
A couple of weeks later was the first day you noticed the little bean kicking, at first it felt like maybe gas, almost like there were butterflies fluttering in your tummy but then you finally realised what it was. The feeling grew stronger with each day as well as the size of your growing stomach which was something Steve and Bucky were going absolutely feral for. They would take pictures each week to show your progression and would constantly be placing their hands on your stomach, even if the bump wasn’t that noticeable just yet.
The midwife recommended talking to the baby at one point so every night, you would sit with a shirt off and Steve and Bucky would lie on either side of you, taking it in turns to tell stories, sing their favourite songs and lay sweet kisses along the growing bump. One day, Bucky was telling the little bean about the time he and Steve snuck into a movie theatre when the skin under his cheek poked out as the baby kicked him in the face. Bucky sat up with excitement, it being the first time he had properly felt the baby move as he cooed, “there's our strong baby, good job little bean!”
“You hit the right dad as well”, Steve joked causing Bucky to smack him in the shoulder.
“Don’t listen to Dad, listen to Pops, I’m right here to make everything’s ok”, Bucky continued to speak sweetly to your stomach.
Your heart swelled at the difference in names that he had seemed to pick, “is that what you’d like to be called?” you asked them both, stroking a finger across each of their cheeks, feeling the stubble beneath.
“It’s perfect”, Steve beamed, kissing your stomach again.
Now it was your 20-week scan, Baby was so much bigger, you couldn’t believe the difference those weeks had made since the last scan. Now it was really starting to look like a baby with longer limbs and you were even able to find out the gender, however, you had wanted to wait to find out, liking the thought of it being announced at the birth.
With these beautiful new prints of the scans, you finally wanted to tell people, beginning with your closest friends.
It was a casual lunchtime meal at the office. You sat at the large table in between Steve and Bucky, with Sam and Natasha sitting opposite, all idly talking and eating the take-out that Steve had bought. However you had opted for a different meal: 4 packs of salt and vinegar chips and a tub of tomatoes - both were your latest cravings.
Sam eyed your food wearily, “Interesting mix you’ve got there, boss lady?”
Your only response was smiling with your cheeks full of tomatoes as Bucky placed his hand over your thigh. You knew he wanted to put his hand on your stomach but you hadn’t told either of the people across the table just yet and even though your bump was starting to become noticeable now, you were trying to hide it behind baggy shirts but even that was becoming difficult. You were in desperate need of some new trousers as well as the button was digging into your skin as you shifted uncomfortably, looking at each of your boys, feeling antsy with excitement as well.
“Can we tell them? I really need to take off my trousers, I’m feeling really claustrophobic”.
Sam frowned at your random sentence, confused by what you meant however it was Natasha’s reaction that sparked your interest as she smirked, leaning back in her chair with a tilt of the head. You looked at her with a gaped-open mouth, pointing your finger at her, “You already know! Who told her?” you asked, looking between Bucky and Steve.
“Wasn’t me”, they both responded at the same time, holding up their hands as you eyed them both suspiciously.
Natasha leaned forward in her chair, “did you really think that I wouldn’t notice? I’m offended Sugar, it’s in my job description to be observant. In fact, you should be asking if Sam is right to keep this job if he can’t notice something this obvious”, she teased the man sitting next to her who still looked just as confused as before.
You laugh at Sam’s reaction, looking to Steve who handed you the sealed cards. You happily took them, standing from your chair and feeling Bucky’s hand on your lower back to help and then walked around the table, giving them both a card each. It wasn’t anything special or elaborate, but it had a picture of the latest scan with the statement: “Update to your job title; bodyguard & uncle/auntie”.
You’d never heard the high-pitched tone from Sam ever before as he quickly stood, his chair squeaking across the floor as he shouted, “What?!” He turned to you, looking between you, the picture and Steve and Bucky, “Really?!”
You pulled the back of your shirt so the material was tight to your front, showing off your growing bump, grinning as he shouted “Congratulations!”, before pulling you into a huge hug, careful of your belly but rocking the two of you on the spot a few times and kissing your temple, “I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle again!”
Sam was then pushed aside, giving room for Natasha, “Move it, Wilson, I want to meet my niece or nephew”, Sam didn’t mind being moved as he rushed around to embrace Steve and Bucky.
Natasha hugged you tightly, and you were able to ask, “How long have you known?”
“A couple of weeks, you aren’t as subtle as you think at hiding things. I mean, you’ve hardly been awake enough to have a conversation, this is the most lively I’ve seen you in nearly a month. And that's without the new obsessive protecting from Steve and Bucky, how they’re always touching you and the weird food you’re eating, it’s more noticeable than you think it is”. She pulls back to put her hands on your growing bump, “how many weeks are you?”
“20 weeks and 5 days, I can feel the little bean moving more with each day, I feel so big already and I’m not even showing that much considering I’m only halfway through my pregnancy”. Natasha grinned hearing this, looking at your little bump. “Now you both know, I can take off my pants without being judged”, you groaned as you undid your jeans button, utter relief when they were completely removed from your body and felt free, your shirt was long enough that it stopped mid-thigh so you weren’t too unmodest.
Bucky had snuck behind you, his arms wrapping around to rest on your stomach as he kissed your cheek. Natasha smiled watching the embrace as she remarked, “Guess you got what you wanted all along Barnes, now you can call her mama and she actually is one”.
“Mmm absolutely”, Bucky nuzzled into your neck, the sensation making you laugh as it tickled, turning to shy away from his attack but he only held you tighter until you melted into his arms.
Steve and Sam joined your little gathering and Sam jokingly asked, “So if the baby’s a boy, can we name him Sam?”
You were so thankful for the news being out, especially as this meant that you could go baby clothes shopping with Sam and Natasha, finding little outfits that you could surprise your boyfriends with. It was one of the only things you were able to do for them to show your appreciation as they did so much for you throughout your pregnancy.
Your cravings continued to become stronger with each day and often found yourself waking in the middle of the night to find something to quench the craving for something acidic and sour taste you needed so desperately it felt like your world was going to end if you didn’t eat it right then and there. On multiple occasions, Steve or Bucky would come downstairs in the early hours of the morning to find you sitting on the kitchen floor, your belly round and exposed, hating feeling material against your skin, and a scattering of different foods surrounding you, a happy smile on your face.
“You ok down there beautiful?” they would ask with grins that matched yours and with your heightened emotions you would be crying before long, reaching for them to come and sit with you which they would do eagerly, pulling your body in between there legs and kissing away your tears, “don’t cry pretty girl, I’ve got you”.
If you ever run out of your favourite cravings, they would drive to the store and you were buzzing to go along for the ride in the middle of the night, fully awake and ready for the night time adventure only to fall asleep before getting to the store.
Entering into the third trimester, your belly was round and heavy, things for sure were becoming more difficult for you as the little bean grew. There were small excitements still like attending antenatal classes with your boyfriends who were taking their role as dad and pops  very seriously, you’d never seen them concentrate so hard before.
“You’re doing the boss face again”, you whispered to Steve as he correctly wrapped the baby doll in a blanket. Steve's features softened immediately as he sheepishly looked at you from the corner of his eye.
“I’m just trying to concentrate”, he mumbled, eyes returning to looking at the doll, his fingers trembling slightly as he continued wrapping steadily.
Reaching across you grabbed his hands, keeping your voice low to keep the conversation between the two of you, “I’m scared too, but you’re going to be a great dad, Steve, you’ll be ok”.
This was a little pep talk you needed to have with both Bucky and Steve on numerous occasions as they began panicking that this was actually happening and whilst you reminded them there was nothing they could do to take back the growing baby in your belly, it was ok to have nerves, but everything would come to them with time, they needed to stay strong, especially as you were also sort of beginning to lose it.
Your body was really changing to accommodate the growing little bean. Your hands and feet were swollen until your shoes couldn’t fit anymore and god…the heartburn was excruciating, and nearly as painful as the kicks to the ribs. There was never a moment where you weren’t out of breath, even standing to pour cereal into a bowl took all of your energy and you’d be sighing in relief as you sat down. Your hips hurt, your back was in agony, and the pregnancy fun had well and truly finished.
This was where the boys really shined through as they would massage your hands and feet, they would be more then happy to cook or grab anything for you, picking things off of the ground, finding clothes that might fit and then there were their compliments which was one thing keeping you going.
Steve and Bucky could not get enough of seeing you pregnant, “you’re glowing honey, pregnancy suits you so much, my love”. You never felt like you were glowing and would describe yourself instead as a huge, hungry, tired monster but the way the boys looked at you, put those negative thoughts to the back of your mind.
From the moment you woke up to the second sleep would invade your consciousness, they would remind you of their love, needing you to fully comprehend how much they appreciated you growing their baby, you were doing so much for them, putting your body through it, for all of you, for the little bean.
Their words definitely helped when you began to feel needier in more than one way as your hormones caused your arousal to be one-minute non-existence and the next feeling nearly overwhelmed with how badly you needed to touch them and be touched. Thankfully with how obsessed they were with you during your pregnancy, they were more than happy to deliver. Hands would be all over, their lips leaving words of affirmation against your warm skin, being careful not to be to rough and more than happy if you wanted to take control and do whatever you wanted to them.
You had to be honest and say you never felt more loved up before. Even with the gang still in full operation, they were able to look after you as their number one priority, even through your emotional breakdowns, or weird pregnancy habits that had you thinking you were slightly insane but they never judged once.
For example, towards the end of your pregnancy, you had a completely immense craving to chew on your bath sponge every time you sat in the large bathtub. So when one day Steve walked in with a freshly warmed-up towel and caught you mid-chew with staring eyes, you expected his reaction to being anything but a soft smile, “You having fun in there, baby?”
Pulling the sponge out of your mouth slowly you nervously answered, “I uh… I don’t really know how to explain…”
Steve held up a hand, “You don’t have to explain anything, whatever makes you happy and I think I’ve read in a book that sometimes pregnant women can have cravings like this, whatever makes you happy”.
As your due date closened, you sat in the centre of the large bed, watching Bucky shuffle his way through your clothes, trying to find the right things to pack for your hospital bag. “What about this?” he asked, holding up a pair of your normal jeans.
“They haven’t fit me in four months, Bucky”, you laughed, shaking your head. “I need pyjamas or baggy shirts, things that can be easily taken on and off, maybe you should just leave Steve to do it”, you suggested whilst holding out your arms.
Bucky shrugged, dropping the jeans and jumping onto the bed, making you squeal with the bed moving up and down before he had his hands against your bump, kissing the tip of your nose. “Not long until we meet you little bean”, he was rewarded with a kick against his metal palm that had you wincing. “Hello baby, I love feeling you kick so much but be gentle to Mama she’s doing such a good job with keeping you safe”, he leaned down to kiss your belly as your fingers delved into his hair.
“It’s ready!”, Steve shouted from another room, catching both of your attention. Bucky jumped up first and then helped you to stand, keeping his hand on your lower back as you wobbled to the spare room that Steve and Bucky had been decorating as the nursery. It was something you had left them in charge of organising, not having the energy over the last nine months to even think about decorating and Steve and Bucky were more than excited to take on the job and so far had kept it secret from your prying eyes.
As you looked around the room, tears swelled in your eyes instantly, reaching to hold onto Steve and Bucky, praising, “It’s perfect!”. There was a beautiful baby cot, pictures of the three of you surrounding the ultrasound scan photograph on the wall, a painting you knew Steve had done, and a rocking chair in the corner that Bucky had claimed as his for the night feeds he’d volunteered himself for.
Now it was all just a waiting game.
“You’re doing it again”, Bucky commented from where he stood in the entryway to your home having returned from the office a few days later.
“No, I’m not, I’m just cleaning-”.
“Nesting… You’re nesting, Doll”, Bucky reminded you, taking away the cloth from your hands and throwing it to the side so he could hold your shoulders and kiss your temple. “Go and rest, you’ve only got a few days left!”
You roll your eyes as you leaned into his warmth, your bump touching him first as you hugged around his chest, “Bucky most babies aren’t born on their due dates you know, I just want to make sure everything is perfect around the house and ready”.
“Everything IS perfect, please just rest”. You relented to him, feeling tired already from the ten minutes of standing, moving to sit on the couch when a period cramp suddenly began in your lower abdomen, causing you to scrunch your face up in pain, especially as it was followed by a large kick to the ribs.
“Woah, are you ok?” Bucky asked, his hand cupping your cheek.
“Yeah, probably Braxton hicks or something, it’s fine”, you say, finally sitting down and putting your feet on the small table. Bucky didn’t seem convinced and continued to be a mother hen throughout the rest of the night, even though the pains subsided after you had a nice warm bath.
As your due date came and went, you were becoming restless, needing the baby out, feeling overwhelmed with how big you felt, wanting to meet the baby and hating waiting around. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried everything either. Eating spicy foods, and going for walks, especially up and down the stairs which was incredibly uncomfortable with how low the little bean’s head was sitting in your pelvis. You’d even had sex a few times, Bucky was more than happy to hear that nipple stimulation could induce labour but still, nothing happened.
Those period cramps would come and go throughout these days as well, getting your hopes up before they disappeared and still, no signs that your labour was even happening. 
On the fourth day following your due date, you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night to another period cramp that started in your lower back and spread around to your front. Even though this felt different,  you didn’t want to wake the boys and get theirs or your hopes up as you tried to slide out of bed without waking them to use the bathroom for what felt like the tenth time that night.
“You ok, baby?” Steve asked, his eyes still closed but his hand reached for you in the darkness.
“Yeah I’m, ok, go back to sleep Steve”, you encouraged, touching the back of his hand before pushing yourself up and waddling to the toilet, using it and then realising just how wide awake you were and the dull ache of the pains still lingered so you decided to run a warm bath. During the time that it was filling up, you had another pain which took longer to subside but this was always how it started with the intensity increasing but after the bath, it usually stopped. 
However, even as you let the warm water settle over your body, easing your muscles but the pains continued but at least the little bean was lovely and happy as he or she gave you a powerful kick to your ribs. The next pain had you gritting your teeth, eyes clenching closed as you held onto the side of the tub, waiting for it to pass but this pain lasted for nearly a full minute, and you decided maybe it was time to take some pain relief.
Standing and awkwardly climbing out of the bath, you dried your body and picked up your night dress to pull over your head when another pain came and took your breath away, your stomach hardening and causing you to moan lowly, bending over to blow the pain away.
“Honey?” Steve shouted from the bathroom having heard your moan as he waited for you to come back to bed. You couldn’t answer him as the pain consumed you, and he was rushing to be by your side, Bucky following closely behind him. Steve rubbed your back slowly as your pain finally began to ease so that you could look up at them both.
“Wow, that one was strong”.
“You ok? Can we get you anything?” Bucky asked, stepping forward with worry etched on his face.
“I’m ok.... I think… I don’t want to get my hopes up that this isn’t contractions but fuck, it hurt like hell”, you muttered, bending over to pick up your dress from the floor and then a trickle of clear liquid dripped down the inside of your leg. All three of you noticed as you tentatively looked up, “Is it bad that I can’t tell if I’ve just wet myself or if that’s my waters…”.
Neither of your worried boyfriends had time to answer as another painful wave came and had you doubling over, leaning your head against the sink. Steve was quick to grab you and let you lean against his strong body, remembering what he had learned from the antenatal appointments to help you through the pains, “That’s it baby, breath in and out, nice and slow”. It helped to listen and ground yourself through the pain as Bucky’s cold metal hand rubbed against your lower back, helping to ease the intense pressure from the baby.
The pain lasted for the same amount of time as the previous one and the clear liquid, which was definitely not urine, had gushed out more, forming a small puddle onto the floor. “Ok, I think it’s time we call someone”, you decided.
Bucky kissed the back of your head as he ran to get the phone and Steve helped you to pull your shirt on, his thumb brushing your chin as he sensed your anxieties, “You’re going to do amazing my love, we’ll be with you every step of the way”.
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antiquarianfics · 7 months
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Therapy
Sometimes all a person needs is a little reassurance they’re not a bad person.
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A/N: I’m rewatching TFATWS and the therapy scene broke me tbh. Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader Warnings: None. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to repost or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, or reblog.
“And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me!”
Bucky’s words make you tense, and you feel your heart clench. Your eyes shoot from Bucky, to Sam, to Raynor. Neither Sam nor Raynor seem as affected by Bucky’s words as you. You suppose, however, his therapist would only see Bucky’s confession as a breakthrough, and his friend, in his anger, would only see it as selfish.
Bucky seems to realize he admitted something not only to the room, but to himself. It was clearly not his plan to share such a thought, and it was clearly a thought he didn’t want to admit to himself.
Later, when Sam, Bucky, and yourself are sitting on a plane, headed to meet with Zemo (against your protests), you finally bring up the impromptu therapy session with Bucky.
“Sweetheart?” You say, pulling Bucky’s attention from a random spot on the wall he’s staring at to you.
The hardened expression on Bucky’s face melts away as he looks at you.
“Doll?” He responds, mimicking your same questioning tone.
You bite your lip anxiously before leaning forward and planting a kiss on his lips. The kiss takes him slightly off guard, but he happily returns it. The kiss takes you slightly off guard, too, because you kissed him to buy yourself some time to figure out what you want to say. After a second, you pull away, anxiously biting your lip again.
“What was that for?” Bucky asks, a goofy smile gracing his lips.
“Uh…” you trail off. “A distraction?”
“A distraction?”
“Uh, yeah. I needed to distract you while I figured out what to say.”
He shoots you a questioning look, but you continue before he can say anything.
“What you said earlier, to Sam,” you start, voice unsure.
Bucky sighs and leans back in his seat, closing his eyes.
“Y/N,” he says, a pleading tone lacing each syllable of your name. He doesn’t want to talk about this.
“Bucky,” you argue, “I just… I just want you to be okay. Do you really think that? That Steve was wrong about you?” The thought upsets you, and you can tell he knows it.
“Wasn’t he?”
“No.”
“Doll.”
“James.”
He meets your eyes and you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Steve trusted Sam with his shield—with his legacy. Steve was a better person than all of us. If… if he was wrong about Sam, then he was wrong about me.”
“First of all, Steve was just a man. He wasn’t a god, and we need to stop talking about him like he was. He was a really good man, yes, but just a man. His opinion on any one person or any one situation is not inherently the right one. Second of all, that’s a logical fallacy and you know it. Steve gave Sam the shield because he believed he would do with it what was right. Sam did exactly what he thought was right. You have to stop blaming him for that. Third of all, Steve wasn’t wrong about you. If he was, Buck, you’d be in prison, but he wasn’t and you’re not. You’re here, with me, with Sam, and you’re trying to make the world a better place.”
Bucky stares at you. You’re so adamant, and it scares him. He knows you’re right, but even if you weren’t, he thinks he’d believe you simply because you’re so sure of yourself. He swallows.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
You sigh in relief that he’s at least agreeing with you.
“Y/N?” He asks. You hum in response.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
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luveline · 2 years
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smutty sunday???? uh, count me the heck in! can we get a cock-warming fic with either steve or eddie? also hope you have a lovely day!!
SMUT 18+ ONLY MDNI I missed you cock warming with Eddie <3 (cw: p in v, cockwarming, praise) | fem!reader | 1k words
"So I just… don't move?" you ask, a murmur. 
Eddie noses at the side of your neck. You turn, wanting to see his face, and find his eyes creased with tiredness as you know your own are, the two of you exhausted from a long week apart. "You can shift a little if you want, but not much more than that." 
You raise your hand to brush a bundle of brown curls behind his ear. His big eyes widen, and then his flush of dark lashes kiss as he squints happily.
He moves underneath you, the bulge of his cock a heat where it's pressed to your aching cunt. Neediness roils in you, a desperate pull to be close to him. 
You missed him so much you'll do whatever it is he wants you to do. "It sounds fun," you say honestly. 
His hands move to his hips and he pulls down his jeans enough to work his cock. You hold your weight up until he's ready, heartbeat in your cunt as he tugs your panties to the side and lines up. "Come on, sweetheart, let me fill you up. There you go, you just-" he hisses. 
Your walls cling to him as you go down. You're wet with wanting from a slow hour in his lap but not entirely prepared, the stretch an amorous aching. Goosebumps erupt as you sink into him, as you let your thighs fall heavily on either side of his, spread over his cock. 
"Oh, fuck," you whimper. 
Eddie pushes his hands under the hem of your t-shirt, big palms hot and fingers spreading wide as he pulls your back flat to his chest. He kneads the bump of your tummy and sighs happily in your ear. 
"I missed you," he says quietly. "Missed you." 
"I missed you too." You don't sound half as calm as he does, breath shuddering as you get used to his size. 
He rubs your clit indelicately, sloppy, broad strokes as he kisses your neck, whispering, "Missed your skin. Missed your smell… I missed having you in my lap." 
"Yeah?" you ask, melting in his arms. 
He hooks his chin over your shoulder. "So much. I hate when I can't just reach out and touch you." 
"I know what you mean."
He kisses your cheek, a playful thing, before pulling his cock out carefully. You whine, spurring a wave of Eddie's placating shushes. He spits into his hand, pushing two careful fingers inside you and stretching, feeling along your gummy heat until he's satisfied. 
He settles you back on his cock. It's just as good the first time – that stretch, the prodding of his tip into your sweet spot. For a second you forget you're not supposed to move too much and bring yourself up. 
"Stay still, sweetheart." 
You fall back into his lap and feel your chest rise into Eddie's waiting hand under your shirt. He cups your breast and squeezes, teasing your nipple until it's peaked and aching. He has attentive fingertips. Precise, they know their way around your body like they do his precious guitar, and he plays you the same. 
Soon, your head is fuzzy with fatigue and pleasure, your entire figure languid where he's laid you out. His every moment is leisurely, and his unhurried pace only serves to tease you more. 
"Can feel…" he starts, his words low and drawn out, "how wet you are, babe. Feel you dripping all over me. Can you feel that?" 
You nod uselessly, turning your cheek into his chest. "Yeah  I can feel it." The space where you're connected is sticky with excitement. 
He moves inside you. Not a lot, but enough to know he's doing it on purpose, and the sound further evidences his point. "Feel it," he draws a line down the length of your arm, touching so lightly that it tickles, "running down n' making a mess on me. You're always messy, huh? Pretty girl, lucky I like you so much, or I'd have you clean it all up." 
You shiver. 
He flattens his palm and rubs away your gooseflesh, humming under his breath. "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? My baby just loves," he rolls his hips, "kissing on my cock. Fuck, you don't know how much I've been thinking about your kisses." 
He pushes his fingertips through your mess of wetness, fingers brushing over slick curls until he's found your clit. He barely touches it, only rubs it once – though, you'd say, very lovingly – before wrapping both arms around your stomach like he had before. 
"Just lying up wondering when I'd get another one." 
You lift your head and twist in his hold, gaze imploring. He chuckles and kisses your pouting mouth obligingly: slow, soft kisses that build. He ebbs and you flow, trying to pour every ounce of affection, every I miss you past his parted lips. 
He starts to move his hips searchingly, in time with your sluggish kiss, the press of his tongue to yours and his cock deep in your cunt a melting bliss. 
Eddie breaks away and presses his nose to the side of yours, your breathing tandem. Rushed and shallow breaths.
You try, but you just can't seem to stay still any longer. You turn in his arms and he helps you rearrange your limbs until you're chest to chest, falling back onto his weeping cock with a quiet moan.  
He looks blown away, close to breathlessness, shaking his head to encourage dark tangles away from his face.
"I'm gonna kiss you sick, Eds," you promise fondly, arms weaving around his neck.
"I'm counting on it." He rubs the highest point of your cheek with his thumb. "That's starting now, right?" 
"Starting now," you agree, wading in. 
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