#all the steve tags are self explanatory

[cloudbells]

Hi there, question for you: do you filter any tags? What are they, if you don't mind sharing? (even just a yes or no answer is helpful if you don't wish to elaborate)

Just FYI, I'm going around and asking this same question to others in the community (so please don't feel targeted or anything like that), but if you wouldn't mind answering this question, I'd be very curious to know your answer!

If you do answer, please consider tagging your reply "#filtered tags ask" for convenience, and if you're inclined to copy/paste this ask into others' ask boxes, it'd be much appreciated 🙏

Yes I do! And no I don't mind sharing. Anyone who's spent time on my blog (or time just speaking to me) knows exactly what I hate, so I'm not revealing private info here lol. I'm just gonna share a couple screenshots cause I don't feel like listing them

I mostly block FYP things for this account because my follow list is very small, so I want to see everything posted. My main account has a bigger variety of things muted though tbh

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family B-Side (1)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell (on the way!)

This is part of a series of unrelated works entitled "Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually" and I think that title is fairly self-explanatory. If there are any other couples you think would be good parents for our Stevie boy, let me know and I'll take them into consideration!

Anyway, the B-Side thing is because this is like taking my Addams Family Steddie au and just flipping the cassette tape hfjsdk

This time, it's Steve that's the Addams and Eddie that's normal!

Anyway, blame @whatthemeepever for this one specifically cuz it's gonna spiral into a wild ride actually, so let's all pray for Eddie in advance

If you'd like a tag for any future parts, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't

-------

The moment Steve is born, his father sticks a light bulb in his mouth. When it glows, he jumps with joy and throws Steve into the air. The moment Steve's mother realizes what's happening, she slaps his father upside the head, throws the light bulb at him, and threatens to blow him up again if he sticks anymore into Steve's mouth before he starts teething.

She follows through on the promise exactly two weeks later, and Steve's parents (one smug and the other notably singed but delighted) rebuild their house next door to his father's brother.

Steve's mother chooses his first and last name (Harrington, a reference to some long-lost family friend or other), and his father is reluctantly given the freedom to choose his middle name. In the end, he is dubbed Steve Faustus Harrington, a name his mother is so surprised to find acceptable that she kisses his father as a reward.

And so begins Steve's life.

------

"I can't believe you got expelled," Steve's mother seethes, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turn white. "Again!"

Steve crosses his arms, sinking lower in his seat as he glares out the window. "It's not my fault they were shitty friends. They got what they deserved."

He hears his mother laugh, the sound strained and indignant and very quickly followed by his father turning to look at Steve from the passenger seat. His sunken eyes are filled with suppressed delight as he asks, "What did they do this time?"

A few seconds pass before Steve sighs. "They said they couldn't go out later because they had to study for finals. I mean, what kind of bullshit is that? Finals are three weeks away, and they can't spare one weekend for the funeral museum?" he says, scoffing as he looks at his father, grins, and adds, "So, I brought the funeral museum to them, coffins and cremations and all."

His father's eyes light up, sheer joy and pride dancing in them. And for the very first time in Steve's life, his mother pulls over to the side of the road and parks the car.

"Pumpkin?" his father asks.

"Fester," she says, her voice low and somewhere in the range of upset, "do you remember when I tried to kill your entire family?"

"Of course. It was a splendid attempt."

She nods and looks at him with a tiny, somewhat pained smile. Then she turns and sets her gaze on Steve. "Darling, what kind of grades do your friends have?" she asks. "Because if you're anything like me, and I know you are, you tend to befriend people who are significantly dumber than you."

Steve blinks, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, most of them were about to fail," he admits.

"Then, isn't it possible they really were studying for finals? Especially if they were close to failing at a school where passing is a requirement of attendance? Perhaps you could have suggested going to the...funeral museum after finals?"

A few seconds pass as Steve considers her words, a crushing sense of realization and guilt dropping on his shoulders and traveling to the pit of his stomach. It makes him feel nauseous, and he stares down at his lap. "I fucked up," he finally says, voice quiet and apologetic.

"Of course not!" Fester says, reaching out and ruffling Steve's hair despite the affronted noise from Debbie, "Your plan was beautifully conceived and masterfully executed. Perhaps you should just talk a little more before pulling out the urns next time."

"Incredibly, your father is right," Debbie says, looking pleasantly surprised before turning her gaze to Steve. She sighs and holds out a hand, squeezing Steve's when he takes it. "Don't get so blinded by a beautiful pair of shoes that you completely miss the sale two aisles over, Steve. At the very least, do a little more research before resorting to torture and murder. Personally, I'm very tired of calling the family's lawyer."

Steve snorts at the utter lie. Debbie loves calling the family's lawyer. She does so regularly just to double-check the state of Fester's stocks and bonds and deeds and general worth. "Okay," he says, nodding once, "I'll remember for the next school."

"You know," Fester says, looking at Debbie hopefully, "Pubert is a senior this year. Maybe Steve could go to high school with him."

Debbie hesitates, frowning slightly before saying, "Yes, but it's...public school."

"The best Gomez and Morticia could find! It was highly recommended by Margaret, and Pubert can make sure Steve adjusts and makes friends."

Steve can see the moment his mother agrees. She sighs, lets go of his hand, and fixes her already perfect bob. "Well, I suppose," she says before looking at Steve once more. "And you, Steve? Would you like to try...public school for your junior year?"

"Sure, might be fun," Steve says, thinking about all the movies he's seen that display public high schools as a zoo and the worst place on Earth. It sounds great, and if the place is still standing while Pubert attends, it must be somewhat entertaining.

------

"You've got everything you'll need?"

Steve looks up from lacing his shoes and smiles at his mother, earning a nervous grin in return. Her blonde hair is uncharacteristically frazzled, and Steve feels warm and fuzzy (like a mold growing over his heart) at knowing she's so worried as to appear less-than-perfect in front of him.

"Yes, I've got everything," he says, gesturing to the backpack on the stairs next to him. In addition to notebooks and his pencil case, Steve has also packed a travel mace, a miniature bomb (alarm clock detonator stored separately, of course), a tiny bottle of tequila, and his lucky lightbulb (just in case).

His mother nods once, takes a deep breath, and then turns her head toward the kitchen to shout, "FESTER!"

Something crashes, a cat (they don't have a cat) yowls, and Steve's father slides into the doorway. "Yes, Pumpkin?" he asks, eyes bright and happy and utterly stuck on Debbie.

"Is Steve's lunch ready? You made something normal, right?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.

Fester glances at Steve, a brief look shared between them that's both sympathetic and endeared toward Debbie. "Of course," Fester says, disappearing for two seconds before striding over to the stairs with a pink lunch box decorated with black skulls (Steve chose the color, Fester chose the pattern, and Debbie gave them her stamp of approval). "A turkey sandwich, fruit, cookies, and juice."

"Fruit?" Debbie asks, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Apple slices!"

After a few seconds, Debbie nods, and Fester gives the lunch box to Steve, shifting some so Debbie doesn't see the conspiratorial wink that tells him the juice is definitely poisoned. Steve grins and shoves the lunch box into his bag. He finishes lacing his shoes and stands, holding his arms out so his mother can inspect him.

"You've done a wonderful job pairing your shirt and shoes," Debbie says, walking around Steve with an air of pride and approval. She rubs the sleeve of his pastel yellow sweater between her thumb and forefinger, nodding once. "The plum pants are a bold choice, but it pays off. And, as always, your hair is flawless, dear."

Steve grins, letting his arms fall to his side. "I tried that new mousse you gave me," he says, fingers twitching as he fights the urge to run them through his hair. "It works great."

His mother smiles even wider and kisses his cheek, pulling out a handkerchief and carefully wiping away the lipstick residue she leaves behind. "I knew it would," she says, inspecting Steve's face once more before nodding with approval.

"Pumpkin, it's time for Steve to go. Pubert is waiting."

Debbie huffs softly and gives Steve one last once over before nodding and hurrying him toward the door. "Have a good day at school, try not to blow anything up, and call me if Pubert tries to cut off your head with a rusty knife again," she says.

"What if it's a clean knife?"

"Well, that's fine. Grandmama will just sew it back on."

Steve grins and waves to both of his parents before hurrying toward the sidewalk where Pubert is waiting. His hair is parted down the middle and gelled down, his pencil-thin mustache is immaculate as ever, and he's wearing a three-piece suit. When Steve is closer, he pulls out two cigars and offers one.

"This isn't an exploding cigar again, right? I'm wearing a new shirt," Steve says, taking it and looking it over.

"Nah, that joke only works once," Pubert says, dragging a match against his palm to light it. He holds it to his cigar first, puffs a few times, and then does the same for Steve. "How long till you get expelled again, you think?"

Steve shrugs as he takes a puff from the cigar, letting the smoke linger for a moment before skillfully blowing it out in perfect circles as they walk. "I haven't been to a public school before," he says, tapping the cigar over the sidewalk, "so, hopefully, at least a year."

"Public school is fun," Pubert says, getting a wicked grin as he looks at Steve. "You can get away with a lot."

"And the other kids?"

"Well, they've certainly got a lot to learn. I mean, most of them can't even handle a little cyanide."

Steve scrunches his nose and takes another puff of his cigar. After a few seconds he asks, "Will we have any classes together?"

"You're a year below me, so maybe an elective or two. What did you sign up for?"

"I signed up for, uh, shop class, forensic science, and Gothic literature."

"We'll have Gothic lit together," Pubert says, flashing a smile before asking, "And you know what shop class is, right?"

Steve blinks, suddenly a little hesitant. "Is it not, like, something about shopping?"

"No. It's building things. With wood, usually."

"Oh! So, I can build anything?"

"I guess. I haven't taken it."

"Well, I'll find out. Maybe I can build Dad a catapult or guillotine or something."

As they get closer to the school, more students fill the sidewalks, but Steve notices that most of them seem to give him and Pubert a wide berth. They also stare, looking at Steve like he's some kind of puzzle to be solved, with more than a few flashing sympathetic smiles like he's trapped and can't get away. "You're popular," Steve notes, taking one last puff of his cigar before dropping it into a trash can.

"I would fucking hope so," Pubert says, finishing off his cigar and tossing it into the next trash can they pass. "I didn't flood the place with roaches and vermin to not be known."

Steve grins, listening as Pubert regales him with the tale only to cut it short when they get inside the school and pass the front office. "I need to get my schedule, but Mom said she made sure we'd have lunch together," Steve says.

Pubert waves him off. "Yeah, I'll meet you in the cafeteria. Have fun, cousin," he replies, mockingly saluting him before heading off down the main hall.

-----

Steve's first class of the day was AP Calculus, followed by AP Physics, Wood Shop, and AP U.S. History. When it's finally time for lunch, he surveys the cafeteria for a few seconds before finding a table in a dark corner that everyone seems to avoid. By the time he gets there, Pubert has sat down with a tray from the lunch line.

Steve sets his backpack on the table, sits down, and says, "For a place that's so lifeless, it's not even fun."

"Yeah, it's like that," Pubert agrees, poking some unidentifiable mush on his tray with a spork before spooning some into his mouth.

It's with a somewhat jealous expression that Steve pulls out his lunch box and removes a thermos of poisoned juice. "Is it bad?" he asks, nodding to the tray.

"Utterly repulsive."

Steve sighs and takes a sip from the thermos before pulling out everything else in his lunch box. "They made me wear safety goggles in shop. Safety goggles! It's like they don't know how fun splinters in the eyes are. And everyone is soooo scared of the saws, it's ridiculous," he complains, taking an angry bite of his sandwich.

"What about your other classes?"

"Physics would be better with more practical examples. I mean, who cares about apples when we could learn if a body falls faster than a cannonball?"

"From experience, no," Pubert says, "Anyway, you gonna join any clubs?"

"Maybe the swim team? If I'm lucky, I'll drown," Steve says, perking up a little at the thought.

"Best of luck with that," Pubert replies, stealing Steve's thermos to take a sip of his juice. When he places it back, he offers Steve a sporkful of the mush.

Steve lights up and happily tries it, wondering how something can be so perfectly undercooked and overcooked at the same time. "Impressive," he says, passing the spork back. "Is that freezer burn?"

Before Pubert can answer, a bang from the other side of the cafeteria cuts off all other sounds. Steve glances over to see a boy in heavy combat boots climbing onto his table with a mischievous grin. He's wearing a shirt with a devil head on it and "Hellfire Club" emblazoned above and a vest with spikes, pins, and patches. His hair is just below his shoulders and a little curly, and Steve can see from here the wild glint in his eyes as he stomps down the table while talking.

"I'm tired of the double standards of this lame school. If you're into science or band or some other 'uncool' interest, the administration couldn't give two shits! Oh, the choir room needs new risers so the current ones don't break any necks? Well, that's too bad, we've got to give the football team new monogrammed towels for the locker room!" the guy says, grinning when a group of kids to the side shouts their agreement. "And never mind that our Robotics team has won the school three trophies when the basketball team so valiantly scraped into third place last year for being kinda good at throwing balls into laundry baskets."

"Prick!"

Steve glances at the guy who shouted, taking in his letterman jacket before quickly dismissing him. He looks back in time to see the boy on the table sticking out his tongue and holding his hands to his temples to make horns. There's an even wilder look in his eyes now, a sheer glee at causing a scene and getting under someone's skin.

Steve doesn't realize he's smiling until the boy scoffs, shouts one more line about the school's unfair preference for "mediocre jocks," and hops off the table. He looks over at Pubert and asks, "Who was that?"

Pubert glances at Steve, studying him for a moment before swallowing another mouthful of mush and saying, "Eddie Munson. He does that once a week, usually."

"Eddie Munson," Steve murmurs, glancing over at Eddie's table again and smiling a little wider.

[rustedhearts]

send her my love (boxer!steve x fem!librarian!reader)

summary: a series of letters written after your recent breakup with steve, recounting your time apart.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the king of the ring ♡ main masterlist

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mushy-gushy-lovey-dovey love letters.

a/n: pretty self explanatory, but libby’s letters are in pink, steve’s are in black ♡

“…how it hurt so bad to see her cry. i didn’t want to say goodbye. send her my love, memories remain. send her my love, roses never fade.”

—send her my love, journey

december 1992—march 1993

♡ ♡

12/05/92

Dear Libby,

Dear god I hope you open this. My hands are shaking so bad around the pen that I’m sure it’ll be all scratchy and shit, but I hope you know that I’m trying. I know how much you love letters, and after you stopped picking up my calls a few weeks ago…I figured this was the best way to reach you.

It’s been almost a month since we last saw each other. I hate thinking about that day. I hate thinking about you crying, and crying because of me. Because of something I did. I want you to know that I take full accountability for what I did, my love. That’s a word they said I should use more often. Accountability. “They” would be Big and Mikey. When they heard about what happened…I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of them so mad. I think, for a moment, Big thought about coming out of retirement just to kick my ass into next year.

I patched up the wall myself. It was my mess to clean. The house seems so big and empty without you. I never realized it echoed before.

I don’t blame you for going home, baby. I know you’ve been wanting to go for a while. I know I drove you away. Pushed you away. I was so terrible to you and I see that now. I’m so sorry it took something so awful for me to see it. But you were right. I’m just like my father. And I needed someone to tell me that so I could realize how fucking stupid and awful I’ve been.

I hope you don’t mind that I used some of your stationary to write this to you. You left it on the desk downstairs. The shelves came in for your books and I put them up. Maybe when you come home, we can fill them up. I’ll buy you all the books in the world, my girl.

I’m sorry. Please know that.

Love,

Steve.

♡ ♡

12/10/92

Steve,

I was surprised to receive your letter. When I stopped answering and your calls stopped coming, I assumed we were done for good. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Despite my every want to feel the opposite, I’m still so terribly in love with you that my head hurts every waking moment of the day. I ache with it. Now that we’re apart, it bleeds. It has nowhere to go. I have nowhere to put it. But this was your doing, Steven. I don’t want you to forget that.

We both said terrible things that day, but what you did was unforgivable. You promised from the start to never raise a hand against me in anger. You promised to never become the thing you hated. I took your word as bond, and perhaps that was my mistake. Perhaps that’s my grievance to regret.

I miss you terribly, but this time apart will be good for us. It’s what we need. I’ve been away from home since I was 19. My brother stands taller than me. His voice is so much deeper than when I left. They’re getting computers at the library soon. Everything is so different, yet it all still seems the same. But even these tiny differences make me realize how long I’ve been away.

It’s snowing here in Hawkins and I helped mom put up the Christmas lights. Nick and I had a snowball fight. I felt ten years old again. Mom made hot chocolate and we watched Charlie Brown. I know how much you love Charlie Brown’s Christmas. But in that moment, I felt wonderfully calm. I felt okay. I felt happy.

And it made me wonder…were we happy, Steve? Or have we been pretending for too long?

I’m glad my shelves came. Use them for your trophies.

XO,

Libby

♡ ♡

12/14/92

Libby,

I can’t tell you how happy I was to get your letter in the mail. I’ve been scared to open it for the past two days. But the thought of going a moment more without knowing what you said would kill me. I can hear your voice so clearly when I read your words.

I’ll never forget what I did that day, Libby. It will always be a reminder of how awful I’ve become. And it will always be a reminder of who I don’t want to be ever again.

I know it doesn’t mean much now since I’m a few months too late, but I’m talking to someone. A shrink or whatever. Big recommended him. Apparently he specializes in “anger issues.” You know how I feel about sitting down and whining about my problems, but…I don’t know. Maybe it’ll help. If it turns me back into the man you loved then I’ll sit on that couch and talk for days.

You asked if we were pretending, and for me at least, I never pretended for a moment. There wasn’t a second that went by that I didn’t love you with every ounce of my being. I’m sorry if you felt you had to pretend. I’m sorry that you weren’t happy, and if you give me the chance, I’ll do my best to make you happy this time around.

No amount of trophies or champion belts in the world could make up for the loss of you, my angel. Please know that and believe it.

Yours,

Steve

♡ ♡

12/22/92

Steve,

I hate the way your words make my heart pound. All that love is still so strong, and it’s all still festering in me. But the heartache is just as powerful. The heartache is just as real.

I cannot give you a second chance just yet. I don’t think we’ve quite earned it. I don’t think we’ve yet reached a point where we’re both okay—on our own. I want to be okay even without you. I fear I’ve become so reliant on you to tell me where life will go, because my life has revolved around your own. I’ve never found my own path to wander. I want that opportunity now.

I went to the Hideout tonight. A Christmas party with some friends. I haven’t felt that young in years, Steve. I’m only 22.

Merry Christmas, Steve. And happy New Year.

XO,

Libby

♡ ♡

1/3/93

Libby,

Christmas was lonely without you. Mikey invited me to his "bachelor pad" in L.A for a "booze fest" (all his words). Gargling gravel sounded like a better time. For a minute, I thought maybe it might be good to get out. To be my own person, like you said. But everything just feels so dull now.

I thought about mailing your present, but I figured you'd just get upset. I want to respect your space and our time apart. My shrink says I have to find more time for other people's wants and needs instead of just prioritizing my own. Is that what I've been doing, Libby? Is that what I've always done?

I guess I kinda did. Took you away from the library and your home. I just wanted you with me all the time. I couldn’t imagine getting through that first string of fights without you. I don’t think I’d be the fighter I am today if I didn’t have you there.

I guess I’m talking about “me” a lot again. I’m sorry I do that.

I hope your Christmas was nice. Hope it snowed the way you like.

Love,

Steve

♡ ♡

1/28/93

Libby,

I haven’t heard from you all month. I thought I’d reach out again. For a few days, I had myself convinced my letter got lost in the mail. I waited for a “return to sender” to come. I think I would’ve preferred the honest rejection to your silence. It’s been so quiet here, my girl. I miss the sound of your voice in our home.

The fights mean nothing anymore. I won the Russell fight last week and felt nothing. Ever since you left, victory tastes stale. The referees declare the winner and I just hear static. Jesus, I miss you so much I started reading some of your sappy literature last week. It’s clearly having an affect.

I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re good. I miss you more and more with every passing day. I miss you more than I thought was ever humanly possible for one person to miss another. I never thought this deep of a feeling could exist. This “break” has taught me a lot.

Been talking to the shrink more too. He says I have an issue with authority and always need to feel in control because of how my dad was. Big fucking brain on this guy, huh? Must’ve went to school in Dumb Fuckville.

Sorry. I’m trying to be kinder. Not swear so much. Wish they made patches for anger like they do for nicotine. Something to ease the ache. But it’s hard to quit something you were born into. The Harrington rage doesn’t just disappear over night. But I swear I’m trying. I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, baby. I’m doing my best to be better.

I hope I hear from you. I hope you’re alright.

I love you.

— Steve

♡ ♡

2/3/93

Steve,

I meant to write. I’ve been so busy now that I’m at the library full time again. I forgot how taxing it can truly be, but it’s like riding a bike. The smell of the books, the feel of the paper, the conversations you have with readers who don’t know where to look, or the ones who do and are searching for more. I forgot how important I feel between those stacks of books.

My girlfriends and I have been going out. They never got to celebrate my twenty-first with me, so we had a belated celebration a few weeks ago. We went to a bar in Indianapolis, took a bus the whole way there. The bar was loud and hot and sticky, and someone spilled beer all over my purse. I know you would’ve hated it, but part of me wished you were there. Bodies were pressing against each other on the dance floor, touching and smearing sweat—but all I wanted to feel was yours. Your familiar frame, right next to me. Only with you have I ever felt so secure.

Anyway, I got my first hangover, and that wasn’t fun. Especially because I’m still staying with my parents and they still think I’m seventeen. Nick tried to get me to buy him beer for his friends. I wish I could be this ‘cool’ older sister for him, but right now he doesn’t like me very much.

I watched your fight last week. There’s something so different in the way you move now. Your punches seem heavier, harder. You take more hits before you hit back. I wish you wouldn’t do that. You know I always worry, Steve. I worry about what might happen if you take too many hits. All those concussions can’t be good. I’m no doctor, but I figure eventually, they’ll catch up to you. I don’t want to see that happen. I can’t fathom the idea of losing you like that. No matter what happens between us, I always want to know you’re well. Selfishly, I always want to know you're out there if I need to call.

I’m glad to know you’re trying, and that you’re still going to therapy. I think it’s very healthy, Steve, and I appreciate and value your honesty. And….I miss you too.

Yours,

Libby

♡ ♡

2/12/93

Libby,

There hasn't been a moment that's gone by since you left that I haven't wished I was with you. In whatever way that might be, all I've wanted is to feel your body next to mine. I miss your touch, your smell, your smile. I never want to know another kiss but yours. I never want to hold another body in my arms that isn't yours. I don't think I could stomach the thought of never having that again.

The longer the time between us lasts and the further the distance grows, the worse I ache for you. God I sound like a fucking dope. It's all those novels you left me, I swear I'm not this sappy. But I guess with you I am.

Please forgive me. Please come home. All I can do now is beg, and show you how hard I'm trying.

I love you, angel. There's nobody and nothing but you.

Love,

Steve

P.S. You're the best big sister. Nick will see that one day when his brain isn't full of beer and Playboy.

P.P.S. Happy early Valentine's Day, baby. I hope the flowers are okay.

♡ ♡

2/17/93

Dear Steve,

I loved the flowers, and I loved the sap. Reading your last letter brought tears to my eyes, and for the first time in a while, they were blissful. I cannot begin to describe the size of the welt in my chest. It feels bruised by your absence and my longing.

Despite every bone in my body yearning for you, I cannot come home. Not yet. I'm not ready. I don't think you are, either. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and while it pains both of us to endure it, I think they're right. Whoever "they" are.

In the spirit of all this honesty, I have to admit: Tom Marrow asked me out for Valentine's Day. And god damn you, Steve, I said no. I said no because I'm wilting without your sun shining on me, and I'm lost without you by my side. I said no because I'll never be able to look into the face of another man without wishing it was yours.

I said no because I know, one day (maybe soon, maybe not), I'll come home to you. Don't let that get to your head.

Love,

Libby

♡ ♡

2/22/93

Libby,

My heart has never suffered as many palpitations in all my high-risk athletic career as it did reading your letter. I hate the way the paper crumpled in my fist when I read about fucking Tom. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to abandon the jealousy that fills me when I think of you with another man. But I can admit, it reached a point even I don't like to think of. I was letting it control me. I'm trying not to do that anymore.

The paper smelled like you this time. You don't know how badly I've missed that smell. I sort of feel like a hound-dog, tracing for more of it in the ink. That's what you've reduced me to, my love. An animal searching for you in the earth.

Please come home. Please come back to me.

Yours,

Steve

♡ ♡

3/2/93

My darling Steve,

I'm coming home to you. Please unlock the door.

Yours always,

Libby

♡ ♡

[dani-says-stuff]

You Belong With Me

❥ Back to the Control Center

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: it's a Taylor Swift You Belong With Me songfic... i think that's pretty self explanatory

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: language (use of words like "slut" and "whore"), slight abusive relationship between steve and a made up character, slight cringe, angst, fluff, miscommunication, the standard grammar warning~

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

You had known Steve "The Hair" Harrington all your life.

Before he was a single mother, the King of Hawkins High, and long before the various girlfriends over the years, there was you.

Back when he was just a nervous little boy in baggy button-down polo shirts and half-brushed bangs hanging down over his brows. Back when he was certain the world was a large, scary place he wasn't quite ready for. Back when his nervous twitchy hands would play with the hemlines of his shorts as he gathered the courage to speak. Back when he was a proud hopeless romantic years away from his first heartbreak, there was you, Y/N, his best friend.

You'd known him for as long as you could remember- in fact, longer than even that. You couldn't quite pinpoint when your friendship began. For all you knew, Steve simply appeared out of thin air one day and the rest was history. 

But he knew. 

He could vividly remember the day, no matter how many years had passed by, Steve would always remember the day he met you.

It was a sunny day on the kindergarten playground, and he was sitting all by himself on the swings, passing time as he kicked the mulch below his feet with his shoes. He was a shy kid and chose to let himself enjoy the quiet when he could.

That was back when his parents were around more often, carting him around to their business meetings and crowded dinner parties. Steve would learn to love the attention later in his life, but at a young age, the noise was terrifying and intimidating. Of course, his self-isolation was a bit lonely at times, but it was worth it. It's not like a child really knew what loneliness was at that age anyway. 

His peace was disturbed when some kid from his class found him in his swing-set sanctuary and decided to drag him into their game of tag. He reluctantly joined the game and found it to be not as bad as he thought. He was a relatively fast and lean kid, which proved to be a huge advantage that allowed him to win the first few rounds.

Steve was being chased by the tagger for the eleventh or twelfth time, when everything went downhill. The lead he'd gained closed rapidly when his shoe clipped the edge of the wood beam separating the mulch area from the grass. He tripped, stumbling over and skidding across the rough, hot pieces of mulch.

The kid behind him didn't seem to care that his target had fallen and had begun to cry as his jeans slowly stained red, the kid only cared that this meant he could win. The boy ran up to little Steve, slapped the back of his shoulder, and was off again. 

At the time, you were playing with a different group of friends over by the tree roots.

It was a strange sort of 'house' game where you 'slept' amongst the trees and went to forage for 'food' or 'magical ingredients' throughout the day. You were bent down, ripping up clumps of onion grass and little dandelion flowers to bring back home when you saw the boy fall. You didn't know who he was, just that he needed help. You dropped the various plants you had collected and ran over to help him. 

By the time Steve had rolled over, off his now-skinned hands and knees, he found you hovering over him. He couldn't speak, he didn't know what to say or what to do, but he knew he was crying. 

You wiped your dirty hands on your pants before you gently took his elbow, helping the boy up to his feet. You guided him inside, spoke to the teachers on his behalf, and walked him down to the nurse's office. You stayed by his side as the woman cleaned his cuts and let him squeeze your hand as she removed the splinters gained from the mulch scraps. 

You didn't remember, but he would never forget how you helped him, stayed with him, and comforted him more as a stranger than those he was close to ever had.  ━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

You didn't know for certain, but if you had to guess, you'd say your feelings began shifting somewhere around freshman year. That's when you found yourself praying that maybe he would choose you as the next try at love, not the girl who always waved with a soft giggle from across the hallway. 

But he chose her, every single time. 

It didn't matter who this mysterious 'her' was, because it was never you.

If only you knew, the only reason 'she' was even there to begin with, was because you always seemed just too unattainable in his eyes. 

He only had 'her' because he was so certain he couldn't have you.

You were too good for him, you always had been. You were always the pretty princess he had imagined throughout childhood, far away in the kingdom living up in the castle. Meanwhile, he was only the stable boy or coachman who was lucky to get a glimpse of you.

If only you knew he'd felt that way for years. Years of him hoping you'd change the way you looked at him from friends to something more. Years that slowly began to grate on him, until eventually, he gave up altogether.

Maybe then, you wouldn't be finding yourself struggling through high school by his side, feeling every bit the opposite of the vision he saw for you. 

In high school, he was the king and you were the lowly servant he somehow dragged up to his ranks. You waited, walking eternally by his side destined to be the second choice. The first choice always tended to be the girlfriend- what else would you expect from a boy who just wanted to find his love- who in turn would choose to go hang out with Tommy, Carol, and the rest of the Hawkins's High royalty.

You would then be left all alone in your room whenever the group went to hang out or go to parties. It wasn't that Steve didn't invite you, in fact, he never failed to extend an invitation to you, you just declined.

Tommy and Carol would make sly comments behind your back, and the girl Steve would date usually had some sort of issue with you as well, claiming you were trying to steal Steve away from her... it was easier, in the end, to just not go than to subject yourself to a night of torture that would inevitably end with Steve feeling responsible for your discomfort. 

Things got a little better when Nancy came along. 

She was far more secure in herself than Steve's other girlfriends over the years had been, meaning you were finally able to be around your best friend again without her screaming at you out of jealousy. Nancy was also able to break him away from the absolute assholes he didn't have the heart to separate himself from. 

But then they broke up. Nancy quickly moved on to Jonathan Byers and Steve was left heartbroken once more. 

However, you would've taken Nancy- who was currently on your blacklist for how she treated Steve at the end of their relationship- over Veronica in a heartbeat. 

Veronica, was Steve's newest distraction from his leftover feelings for the Wheeler girl, and your worst nightmare. 

He met her when he was working at Scoops, somehow out of everyone he flirted with over that stupid ice cream counter, she just had to be the one that the words stuck with. 

Imagine the worst bitch you can, and then multiply that by a thousand. Multiple Heather Chandlers bundled up into one absolute demon of a person- that was Veronica Mayer. 

Crimson Lipstick, tight shirts, and skin-tight pants. Long hair she whipped over her shoulder as she struts away. Mini skirts and sleek high heels. She could say or do whatever the hell she wished, she could violently insult others and not bat an eye, but god forbid you said anything mildly mean around her- suddenly she'd become a saint.

Steve had invited you to go see a movie one day, when she decided to tag along last minute. She said the most vile things about the girl working at the ticket stand. As soon as Steve left you two alone so he could use the bathroom, Veronica had leaned down, whispering into your ear as she called the girl an attention whore and a slut just because of her shirt, which scooped the smallest bit when she leaned over to grab the tickets. 

All it took was you snapping back that it was "rich coming from you" for Veronica to bust out in tears. Streaks of mascara making their way down her cheeks. She threw herself into Steve's arms the moment he reappeared, claiming you were attacking and chastising her for how she looked. 

Steve didn't really know what to do, he looked confused as his eyes connected with yours over Veronica's head. It was clear, in his expression at least, that he didn't really believe that you would've said anything like his girlfriend was describing unprovoked. But, rather than say anything, he chose to simply rub her back and console her instead.  

She would do this over and over until you decided, just like with Tommy and Carol, it just wasn't worth it anymore.

You tried to explain to Steve that she wasn't good for him, you tried to get him to see it, but she was never her worst when he was watching... and the boy was forever an optimist. He remained wary of the issues he was told of, but she couldn't really be that bad... right?

Veronica was using that to her advantage, staying in his good graces while she pushed everyone else away from him. At one point, she even claimed that Robin was trying to "get with her" and that she didn't feel comfortable hanging out with the younger girl anymore because of "her obsession with her". 

But, when Veronica had no one left to be snarky with when Steve was around, it was only natural for her to turn it on him. 

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

You were in your room reading a few chapters of a book Robin had recommended to you before bed, when you heard a quick tapping against your window. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you would've blamed it on the wind moving the branches of the large tree in your backyard to tap against the glass, but the noise was too consistent for that. You crept out of your sheets, cringing at the cool air, and made your way over to your window. 

When pulling back your curtains, you were met with the somber expression of your best friend crouched on the outside windowsill. You quickly unlocked the window and pushed up the glass, letting him in. 

As he clambered in and fell onto your plush carpet flooring, you were hit with a large sense of deja vu. Steve transformed into his twelve-year-old self before your eyes, sprawled out across the floor huffing and puffing about how that was much harder than he expected. You had mentioned he could've used the door back then, and were met with the very same statement all these years later. 

He turned his head, face screwed up as if his choice were obvious and you were the crazy one, "That would've been too easy. This was more fun..." he trailed off, "And quieter."

You put your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow as you looked down at him, "Steve, we're not teenagers anymore, you can use the front door. I'm an adult, I don't think my parents would care-"

He shook his head quickly, "Absolutely not. Your Dad is terrifying, I'm not risking that." 

You laughed softly, moving to sit on the end of your bed, stopping him the moment he moved to follow you, "Nope." you pushed him back, "Absolutely not, you have dirt all over you from climbing up that tree. You can stay on the floor." 

The boy pouted, looking at you with wide puppy dog eyes, "Oh come on Y/N," he whined, "You used to let me."

You shook your head, standing your ground as you pointed to your bottom drawer, "No dirt in my bed. You can look in there, see if anything still fits if you want to sit on my bed that much."

His eyes widened in horror, "But- but those are from like five years ago." 

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Soon he was sitting beside you in a pair of borderline too-tight sweatpants that ended right above his ankles and an old bright green Hawkins Middle School Swim Team T-shirt that might as well have been a crop top. 

He slumped over almost immediately, collapsing into your side with his head resting against your shoulder in exhaustion. 

You moved your hand up, messing with his soft brown hair, "What's wrong Steve."

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes at your touch, "You were right."

"I usually am." you smirked, "but humor me, what was it this time?" 

"Veronica was a jerk."

You noticed he was talking in past tense... which could only mean...

"She broke up with me." 

You quickly wrapped your arms around him, "Oh, Steve, I'm so sorry."

"Nah, it's fine." he replied almost immediately, "it was a long time coming. Honestly, I should've broken up with her a lot sooner."

You pulled back, looking him in the eyes and scanning over his face, "What happened?"

"To be honest" he laughed breathlessly, shaking his head, "I don't really know."

You both laughed briefly before he tried to explain further, "Like we were at this stupid party right? For some reason, I guess someone drunkenly suggested Karaoke was a good idea - and you remember Tammy? Tammy Thompson from high school?" he continued when you nodded, "Well, you remember how she was. So I mentioned - how we always did - that she sounded like a muppet... and for some reason that set her off. There was a whole argument that was mostly one-sided..." he trailed off, brows furrowed and staring at the ceiling as if it would tell him what happened. 

Steve shook his head and shrugged, reconnecting his hand with your own, "Yeah, no, I have no clue." he brushed it off, "I probably did something though that started it" he mumbled, "I usually do."

"What do you mean?" 

He sighed, dragging a hand over his face, "Well you know," he trailed off somberly, "That's the only thing that really makes sense right?" 

"I still don't-"

"That it's me." he whispered miserably, "Nothing ever works out no matter how hard I try and the only common thread is, well, me. I don't even know what I did, and that's probably part of the issue."

"Steve Harrington, you stop that right now."

His eyebrows furrowed, looking up at you in confusion, "Huh?"

"You are not the issue," you spoke assertively, pulling up from where he lounged against you so he could look you straight in the eyes. You grabbed his cheeks, making sure he was looking at you before you spoke, "I don't know what she said that got to you so bad, but you are not the issue, ok? Nothing is wrong with you. You are perfect, you hear me?" 

He simply scoffed, pulling away from your grasp, "It's not just her." He stood up and began pacing about the room, "It's not just Veronica, ok Y/N? I mess everything up. That's just a plain fact."

"No, it's not-"

"-Yes it is!" he interrupted, trying his best not to yell. "I-I just don't get it. I'm just such a screw up I can't get anything to work out! I mean I've been trying for years and everything just turns out a failure!"

He yanked at his hair as he paced before he sudenly stopped. His hands dropped miserably to his sides as he turned to you, "Why can't anybody love me?" he whispered brokenly, "Is it really that hard for someone to love me?"

"What are you talking about? Plenty of people love you-"

"But not the way I want." he groaned, frustrated struggling to find the words to explain how he felt, "My parents love me because I'm their kid, not because I'm their kid. Nancy loved me at the time, but that didn't last obviously. Veronica loved me because of what I could give her, not for anything real. Tommy and Carol loved me because I was popular, not because of who I was. You..." he trailed off, choosing to simply stare at you rather than feel the embarassment from finishing his sentence.

Your face fell, and your heart dropped. "What? Steve, I love you, what do you mean-"

He looked down, half embarrassed and half shameful. "As a friend." he spoke so quietly you could barely hear him. 

"Exactly." you stood, trying to approach him even as he dodged your advances, "Your my best friend, I will always-"

"See?" he laughed sadly, and spoke in a breaking voice, "You love me, but not the way I want." 

"I don't understand" 

He avoided your gaze, looking instead to your wall covered in Polaroid photos, cataloging the years you both had spent together rather than meeting your eyes. 

His face flushed, he felt, once again, like the shy and skittish boy he met you as years ago. 

"I-" he breathed heavily shaking his head, "I love you. but not the way you love me." he finally looked at you, his brown eyes reflecting every bit of sadness and heartbreak he felt in every part of his soul, "I love you, but not as a friend." he whispered, grabbing your hands, "I love-love you. I'm in love with you." 

You looked up at him and your heart shattered. "Steve-"

He squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head in rejection, "I knew it."

"No, no, no" you rushed, holding onto his hands tightly as they fought to slip out of your own, "It just- you've just broken up with Veronica. I want to be with you, but I don't want to be a distraction." 

At that, Steve let out a soft but genuine laugh. The kind of laugh that you felt like you hadn't heard in forever. "Y/N, if anything they were a distraction from you." 

With that, he leaned down, decreasing the distance between your faces. "Y/N?" he spoke softly on an exhale, staring into your eyes, "Can I-"

You didn't give him any time to respond, you smiled wide as you reached up clasping your hands around his neck, "Yes."

You dragged him down, matching giddy smiles adorning both of your faces as your lips connected for the first, and far from the last, time.

[ebaylee422]

Decking the Halls

Steve Harrington X Girlfriend!reader

Author’s Note:  Angst to cute sex, I’m not sorry. This is post Season 3, pre Season 4. I just love being angsty. I also really needed to clear my drafts soooo X-mas in March everyone!

Summary: Stockings aren’t the only things being stuffed this Christmas season. Steve has never decorated for Christmas, he’s embarrassed and doesn’t want to ruin your sprit by avoiding you. Don’t worry though, he shows you just how appreciative he is after. 

Characters: Steve Harrington, Girlfriend reader, mentions of shitty parents and the rest of the ST nuggets. Best Friend Robin Buckley!!

Warnings/Tags: Smut (Minors DNI!!!) abandonment issues? as an intro, p in v sex, marking kink, praise kink, fem oral (receiving). breeding?

Word Count: 3k

Part One/?

You had tried everything to get Steve into the Christmas spirit: buying decorations for your apartment, getting matching pj’s, going to watch the lights in Indianapolis,  watching Christmas movies, the Ice-Skating was most regrettable because you fell forward and knocked your teeth hard enough to bleed. Even planning a white elephant with him and his friends, sharing hot cocoa and warmth of your space heater. What you didn’t know is as soon as he left your place he was greeted by his parents' empty house. Decorated from some stupid trendy catalog his mother only glanced at before swiping a credit card. His father, not even home long enough to realize the tinsel monstrosity within the living room. The presents underneath were fake, they stopped being real when his father told him to grow up. That Santa wasn’t real, saying he needed to start giving instead of hoping for some joy from a fat man each holiday season. So that’s exactly what he did, the first Christmas he’d enjoyed in a long time was on Christmas of 83’, when he was with Nancy. They’d gotten each other meaningful gifts, it was the happiest Christmas he thought he’d ever had. Even if he went home unable to look at his pool outside for too long knowing his friend had died. Even if there were disgusting monsters trying to eat his friends when they had the chance. How horrible humans were in comparison, like the Russians nearly beating him to death at Starcourt. Instead of celebrating what he was thankful for, he felt immense guilt every holiday. He’d confided in you once about his survivor's guilt, as you had called it a couple months ago during an intense flashback. You’d comfort him, make sure he wasn’t alone. He didn’t want to be anyone’s burden, Steve knew you were worried about him it would show whenever he ‘had’ to leave for work or Robin’s, or get clothes from his place.

It all came to a standstill when you’d asked him if he would come pick a Christmas Tree with you. Wanting to have it up before the kids came over, finish decking-the-halls you’d told him. Only Steve didn’t know what picking out a Christmas Tree was, sure it’s self explanatory but what if he made a fool of himself. With his pretty rich boy ‘I’ve never had to pick one out’, it seemed too intimate. Sure you’d bared your body-mind-and-soul to him, but wanting to do something so domestic together like picking out a Christmas Tree. For your first Christmas together as a couple, it was scary for him. So instead of being a Scrooge so he could work on his feelings, he faked an illness even going as far as calling out sick today. Keith hadn’t been too happy but chopped it up to Steve sucking too much face on the job and gave him the day anyway. And he was back to square one, an empty ugly house with none of your warmth. People would think his middle name was self-sabotage, especially when that door-bell rang. He got up from his cocoon from the coach with a groan, an aching shooting up to his spine when his socked feet hit the freezing hardwood. Shined and renewed for the inevitable party his parents would throw this Christmas Eve for work friends, where they forgot they even had a son. He stopped dead in his tracks shaking the sleep from his eyes when they were met with yours, holding a tote bag while shaking the light dusty of snow off your figure. It melted into your skin leaving you shiny with the dew, nose and ears kissed pink while your chin and neck were tucked tightly with the collar of your coat and scarf. You smiled at him as he studied your form, like an angel sent just for him. He was bundled up in simple joggers, thick wool socks and heavy blanket around his shoulders worn like a cape tucked around his body, but shirtless still despite it being nearly as cold inside as it is outside. Shaking your body of the remaining snow, laying the tote bag of groceries and sick necessities you’d brought over on the stairs so you could slide out of your heavy snow covered boots.

“Hi baby, how r’ you feeling?” you asked him with a voice full of sticky sweetness and adoration. His face changed in that moment from shock to guilty, you felt the change floating in the air like oil through water.

“What are you doing here?” He asked louder than either of you had expected, causing you to turn his way fully as you began to undo the ties of your coat. 

“I came to check on you, bring you some-”

“Why?” He scoffed, tucking the blanket to cover himself from the breezing air flow of the open hall. You were wearing a red corduroy skirt, with black stocking underneath and a cream sweater that didn’t even compare to how soft your hair was laid across your shoulders. You looked at him like he hung up the stars, even though you were the brightest thing about his life.

“Robin called me worried about you saying you called out because you were sick. So I canceled the tree plans to come check on you because you didn’t call me. I even whipped up some Chicken and Rice soup and scrunched up a couple medicines.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, I’m fine Y/N. You should go get your tree and I’ll see you on Friday like you planned.” he brushed off your kindness,

“Well I wanted to take care of you.” you told him shyly, "You haven't been around as often."

“Okay thanks.” he shook his head, body and tone still uncomfortable and unmatched of your own tenderness.

“Do you not want me here or something?” You scoffed with affection grabbing the bag from the stairs, stepping in front of him giddy with untamable affection.

“No.” He answered quickly and when your face dropped, his own heart went with it when you backed away from him. “No, I mean yes but not right now. I’m just-”

“It’s fine, Steve." You cut him off, turning away and grabbing your stuff. "I get it, I’m sorry I could’ve called.” he stopped you putting out his hand as an olive branch. You took it without hesitation, sniffling away the tears that built up for weeks of you arguing and avoiding each other. 

“Don’t you dare apologize, especially to me.” He took your reddened cheeks in his hands as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “I’m just being an idiot, I’m sorry but I’m not even sick so you doing all this nice shit over-” 

“I know you’re not sick, Steve. You’re a terrible faker.” You said factually, with a teasing tone. Still not looking at him but rather at your wiggling toes against the shiny floor.

“Oh really now? Robin didn’t tell you anything.”

“Well the strange, ‘Steve wanted my shift the same day he always has off’ the one day I could go tree picking with you. Then calling out and claiming illness, and not calling me is pretty obvious.” You let the bag fall again, his shoulders relaxed as you tugged on the length of his blanket. “Are you breaking up with me?” you asked with furrowed brows and a whimper to your voice.

“No!” Steve yelled, “No never no, I-I love you so much. You are my favorite everything Y/N.” He wrapped you both in the blanket tugging you flush against him. “I just have a hard time with the holidays, I don’t really know what to do with myself. I didn’t want to be embarrassed, it was a lot of pressure.” You both held each other silently letting the fear wash over both of you, until you giggled into his neck.

“I love you, Steve. Honestly, just talking to me would’ve saved us both a headache.” He sighed heavy as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, head resting on your chin.

“Jeez, what are we gonna do with me?” he whispered into your scalp, the fluffy hair on his chest tickling your cheek as you were held by his heart.

“I can think of one.” You pursed your lips, closing your eyes with your chin held high awaiting a kiss. He obliged you immediately, cupping your cheeks in his hands to accurately press his lips to yours. His hands were freezing, sending a shiver and gasp involuntarily out of you. Steve took the opportunity to lick into your mouth, tasting-ly. Pulling back before you could reciprocate, you whined gripping his biceps accidentally pushing off his blanket.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, nose brushing against yours.

"I didn't mean to pressure you, you just seem so sad."

"You make me happy."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you could meet me in an ice cream shop above a secret Russian base. While enjoying strawberry more than chocolate ice cream and you'll still make me happy." 

"Well, if our circumstances of meeting are the worst part of the relationship, I think that's a pretty good incentive to making better more normal memories, yeah?"

"Maybe." He kissed the tip of your still pink nose.

"Maybe, we could go back to my place? It's always freezing here." You added with a shiver making the hairs on your arms stand up.

"Not when you're here. Just stay here a second longer." His lips moved with their own incentive. It didn't take much convincing on either of your parts before you were upstairs in his room. A path of clothes thrown haphazardly off of each other through broken giggles and soft kisses, until your just in under clothes. He holds you to him as he opens the door to his room, and your feet barely touch the floor as he twirls the two of you around. Bringing you down with him as he falls backward on the bed with a thud. Kissing you with fondness, sweet like the honey color of his eyes. You loved him so much it hurt like the side pains after laughing so hard you teared up. Like when you realize that magic might not be real but people were and kindness. Kindness and compassion were the real magic. People found a reason to be with each other, even if it was once a year. Steve never had that. Everything in his life was transactional, Christmas, school, his parents, most other relationships. Those few closet to him probably haven't ever seen this side either. The checkered boy room with little to no traces of living aside from Steve's nightstand with Polaroids of everyone scattered about. A bin in his closet kept hidden away where he'd kept his Scoops Ahoy name tag, a letter from a pen-pal in sixth grade, ticket stubs of every drive in movie. Some more Polaroids for his eyes only you'd given him after you first started dating, and he'd left his shirt in your room. Even as you lay on top of him now, kisses sucked into your neck, his strong hands massaging your sides in worship. You couldn't help what words came out next.

"Come with me." You begged him breathlessly opening your eyes to see his lips swollen and slick, hair haloed and shaggy around his face and sheets. Like melting caramel against the ugly grey and navy bedding.

"Already babe, I haven't even touched you." He mumbled rocking his pelvis into yours, forcing your legs to accommodate him more with a thigh on either side of his hips. You sat up taller straddling him, a pout etched into your face.

"No, I mean. Come home with me, lets live together. I'll get rid of things you can bring whatever you want, I can dip into my tuition nest egg and buy whatever we need for the apartment. Make it yours too, or we can find another one that you like better. I just want you all to myself." He sat up holding onto your waist so you didn't fall, making you squeak with the shift in position. Your heart sank as his eyes were so wide they could've jumped out of his skull.

“What?” he asked as his breath caught in his throat, a pure swell of undoubtable happiness warming him from the tip of his nose down to his sock covered feet.

“It’s just, I wasn’t lying Stevie. I wanna take care of you, you give so much to every-” He kissed you, desperately. Teeth clashing and tongues forming together making you dizzy enough to loose balance upright on your knees. Pulling back to gasp for air, a string of spit connecting you to him. He wiped it away, tucking his head into your chest.

“You’re perfect. I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

“Even picking out a Christmas Tree with me?”

“I will grow you a damn Christmas Tree, even better I’ll get the kids to help me chop down one in my backyard!”

“Stevie! That’s dangerous.”

“Well, sweets. 

Danger.

Is.

My middle name.” He trailed four kisses down your body, stopping just shy of your covered mound. Hooking his fingers under the band of your underwear, biting your hip making you buck up long enough for him to shimmy them off your legs.

“I thought your middle name was Alexander?”

“You won’t your own name once I’m done with you.” He said sultry, kneeling at the foot of the bed. Yanking your ankles to bring you closer to his mouth, spreading your legs wide and over his shoulders. You were beautiful, regardless what you were doing but letting him take care of you. Make you feel good and be vulnerable, made his head spin. Your lips were sticky with arousal, he could smell your sweet nectar begging for him to taste you. Marks still slightly visible from last time, he started there sucking and biting the mailable flesh. 

“Stevie, please-” You cried out, hands trying to find purchase with his. He stopped sucking a bruise, eyes blown wide when he found yours. Locking your hands to your sides,

“Your so sweet, baby. Asking so nicely.” He chastely kissed on your hood, tongue licking underneath to wet and flick at your clit. You groaned and threw you head back, “So sweet, baby. Keep your legs open for me. I have a lot of apologizing to do down here.”

“Stevie, no I want you. Please.” You writhed on the bed trying to keep your legs spread for him, he blew cool air at your entrance causing you to clench around nothing. You body craved to be filled, senses overwhelmed of one thing: Steve, Steve, Steve!

“Just wanna warm you up, we have all the time in the world sweets. Wanna wreck this bed before leaving.” He was antagonizing you, teasing with his pretty words and slightly movements you couldn’t even respond him. He licked a line from your entrance to your clit, groaning at your taste. Hips colliding with the end of his bed to relieve pressure as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Rolling the bud with his tongue, your nail dug into his knuckles as you shook with ecstasy.

“ ‘S so good, Stevie. Don’t stop-” You were so pent up from earlier all it took was a few more rolls of his tongue against you and for you to fall apart. Concentrating on keeping your legs open for him, as he licked you clean. Nudging his nose against your sensitive clit, he let go of one of your hands tangling it in his hair.

“Hold it out of my face, baby. I want one more before I cum inside you.” He coated his fingers with your release, slowly sliding in one as his tongue still fucked into you. You couldn’t help rocking your hips against his face when he added another finger inside you. Scissoring, stretching you and rubbing against your spongy spot. You tugged at his locks when he came back up to suck at your clit again, you didn’t even notice the heat break in your belly until you gushed and clenched around his fingers. You pushed at his forehead from sensitivity, barely able to catch your breath when you pulled him up to kiss you. lips and chins dripping of you. Trailing your nails down his soft tummy following the happy trail underneath his boxers, you met him halfway stroking his thick cock with your slick. Still coating his hand, pre-cum dripping from his tip making the sounds completely pornographic.

“ ‘m not gonna last baby, want you so bad.” He whispered against your lips, breathing heavy with a sheen of sweat layering you both in the smell of sex.

“Need you too, wanted you ages ago.” You sassed, making him laugh against your cheek as he stood. You wrapped your legs around his waist, his cock twitched when it brushed against the inside of your thigh.

“You gotta big mouth on you, sweet girl.”

“You better do something about it, Harrington.” With a roguish grin he ran his length over your clit once before pushing ever so slightly inside. Taking your breaths away, you were the girl and only girl who could take Steve’s fat cock completely. He just has to ease you into it, inch by inch until his hip bone grazed the back of your thighs. Steve stood tall and far enough away you couldn’t kiss him from where you were sprawled out under him. You pulled and squeezed at your breasts still contained by your bra. His cock glistening with your slick as he pulled his hips back, then pushing deeper inside his sack pressed tight against your ass. Steve nearly loss his balance when you clenched around him, putting his hands under your knees. Folding you in half made it feel like he was in your throat, he leaned over you the pressure of his body as he set a ruthless pace set flames in your abdomen. Pounding his cock into you over and over again moaning out praises as he bullied all the way to your cervix. Punching breaths out of you watching as your tits bounced, you had enough pulling him fully on top you. Hands indenting his shoulders as your hips met his, clit pulsing and with need. 

“You feel so good. Shit, shit- I’m cumming, cumming inside.” Steve’s core tighten as he ran two finger over your clit, heat erupted across your body. You milked Steve dry, his warm seed and your three orgasms dripping from each others groin. You pulled him on top of you, comforted by his weight on you as his cock softened inside you. 

“Do you really want too?” You asked in the post orgasm bliss, running a hair through his now tangled locks. “I don’t want to trap you with amazing sex and joy but it’s definitely a perk.” Steve rose onto his elbows, still seated inside you. Brushing the hair out of your face, with softness.

“I’m sure we can wreck this bed a lot more than just cum stains.” Pushing at his chest, he pulled out of you gently. Scurrying to his bathroom where you listened as he turned on the faucet in the shower. Sitting up, he came back with all his glory. Hand raised for you to take, the same olive branch you’d given him at Starcourt. All this time. “I can’t wait to spend Christmas in our home, together.”

You’d never been so excited to spend the holidays with anyone else.

Masterlist 

[tartarusknight]

any recommendations for angsty steve centric fics?

We love some Steve angst!

Boys Keep Swinging by Carbocat is an extremely devastating story. It's not a romance story there isn't any steddie, it's main focus is on Steve and how he struggles with PTSD from everything.

Chokechain by GhostHost is another great fic. The Summary of that one is: Rumors of Steve's pending engagement threaten to splinter the post-Vecna bliss with a harsh dose of reality.

cyclical by cuips_not_cute is a time loop fic. Which is pretty self explanatory. Steve is struggling to save his friends and end the loops.

Gave me something to lose by sierra_writes_things is a shorter story but it's so good. It's not resolved at the end so if that isn't your cup of tea...

how long is forever by boredorphan. Summary is "it felt like they could breathe air again, without the constant fear of having to answer a code red in the middle of the night because of a newly discovered creature. Because what returns to them is not something about the upside down, no. Simply it's a consequence. The result of poorly made decisions, neglected care. It's the loss. Stolen memories."

I know I've kissed you before (Can I try again) by ChristinMKay is so good for an AU. It's a no "supernatural" fic and it's has Steve adopting Dustin in it, which was perfect. This is a steddie fic and it switches back and forth from the past and the present to show you the whole story.

I'd Ask You To Be True by chandy... This fic was the hardest thing I've ever read. It's not a romance story instead it focuses on Steve's relationship with the party. It's based after season two I believe, and its heartbreaking. Through this story we see Steve battling cancer and the party's support during it. However, I will say that it's a heartbreaking ending but it's a beautiful ending at the same time. Read the tags and be warned this one legitimately made me sob to the point I stopped reading it for a little while so I could breathe.

It Takes Two to Survive by Orange_Sunsets is more of a stobin angst fic. It's where Steve and Robin not saved from the Russians instead they end up in the hands of Martin Brenner.

Long Live The Kings by me_4eva is very angsty. It is based in the middle of season 3 and after. It is a Harringrove fic which isn't my cup of tea but it was done so well that I still enjoyed it, maybe just because romance isn't the point of the fic. It's a survival fic through and through. I really recommend this one, it's angsty all around.

Passing of the Torch by mummifiedgoose is a short one that has a sad ending but it touches on the similarities of Lucas and Steve.

Remind Me That I Am A Fool by The_Bees_Want_Arson is a fic about self harm and suicide but it doesn't have a sad ending so that's a plus.

Remember What You're Looking At Is Me by Kwills91 is another good one. It's a steddie fic but it really touches on how Steve is struggling.

Okay so like I have more but I'll let you look at these first. If you want I write a lot of Steve-centric angst. Which is linked on my page :)

[sparklingsin]

— five ways to say i love you | steve harrington

+ steve harrington x fem!reader

tags: fluff, banter, steve being steve, some angst, some gore - like in the show, s4 canon adjacent

a/n: no summary since this is pretty self-explanatory. hope you have a good read! feedback is appreciated!

one.

The Wheeler basement is warm, separated from the world, the Upside-Down, the lab. Shielded from trouble. A distraction from whatever danger lies ahead. The kids are sitting around a table with Eddie, who is making a face at them — they're engrossed in what seems to be quite a stressful game of DnD. You don't try to pretend that you understand it.

Nancy is half-asleep on Robin's shoulder who is reading the latest "Teen Beat". Beside you, Steve's busy shooting daggers at the kids table, one of his arms curled behind you on the couch. Not quite touching you, but close enough that you remember it's there once every few minutes.

"Do you want to kill your only best friend?" you ask and Steve pries his eyes away from the group to look at you, eyebrows still furrowed.

"Wha— look, it's just that the kid barely tells me anything anymore, okay? I'm just a little — "

"Jealous?" you interrupt.

"— worried," Steve finishes, mouth twisting into a frown at your words.

You pout at him. "Aww, that's sweet. Mama's worried."

Steve shoots you a look. "Tease all you want, but if something happens to that little shit, it's on me, you know?"

"Aw, I'm sure Dustin loves you too."

Steve gives you another stink eye, then turns back to the kids. You try your best to suppress the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips.

A beat passes before Steve quips again, absentmindedly picking at some loose threads on the arm of the sofa, still gazing at the kids.

"I mean, I worry about the other kids too. About all of us. Robin, Nance. You."

You try to ignore the warmth that mushrooms across your chest.

"Should I be scared that you're worried about me, Harrington?"

He looks back at you. There's a twinkle in his eyes, that flares up that new found feeling in your stomach. You don't want to acknowledge it but it begs for your attention.

"Maybe."

two.

Steve walks eight paces under your window before deciding that he's going to do it. He finds a small pebble in the yard and tosses it at the window, praying to anyone who's up there listening, that you're awake.

Much to his relief, you open the window a minute later and peer down at him in the darkness. You seem to stare at him for a moment— understandably so, given the ungodly hour— and then gesture for him to come up.

Two tries later, Steve is tumbling through the window and into your room.

"Shhhh," you mutter to him in the dark, and he freezes, stilling himself beside your desk.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, voice an octave lower than usual and Steve realises with a start that you had been sleeping after all. If your slightly puffy eyes and pink pajamas are any indication.

"You look like hell," you add, looking him up and down. He hadn't changed from his slacks and white t-shirt and his hair was probably rough from all the tossing and turning. Thankfully though, you don't seem mad. Only confused.

"Right, um," he begins and then shuts up. Now that he's here, he realises how terribly pathetic it is for him to be doing this. How cowardly, how very unmanly.

"Steve?" you ask, reaching out to grab his shoulder. You're so warm, he almost sighs out loud.

"Shit. Yeah. Hi. So, I did come here," he says, but stops again. Because how can he say what he wants to say? How do you tell someone that your house it too big, too empty? That the halls go on forever without a soul in sight? That he lies awake at night, wondering what he would do if he found himself all alone in the world much like he is in his house?

"Earth to Steve," you call again, and now there is concern seeping into your eyes but Steve really, really doesn't know what to say. He simply looks back at you, something cold unfurling in his chest.

"Uh, can I sleep here?" is all he can muster. He braces himself for your reaction, for you to call this weird and refuse but you only tilt your head ever so slightly.

"Of course," is all you say too. There's some recognition in your eyes that leaves him feeling bare but he is grateful that you don't say anything else. He watches you plop into bed and pull one pillow to the corner that is by the wall and fluff it up.

"Okay," he says glancing around your room, "Just give me a pillow, a blanket and I'm good to go."

You stop in your journey of trying to find one edge of the blanket and look up at him, eyebrows knitted.

"Good to go where?"

"Sleep on the floor I mean."

You look at him like he has grown two heads and then pat the space on the bed beside you.

"Don't be stupid. Sleep beside me, there's plenty of room."

three.

"Find it?" Steve calls from beside the bed just as you spot the locket under a couple of envelopes in your drawer. It a pretty large thing— you're not sure how you had missed it the first time. You open the locket to reveal a set of pictures. One of Max, when she was about nine, and other, of your mother.

"Yeah," you answer, putting your arms around and behind your neck to try and clasp the chain together. The darned thing is too small unfortunately and your arms grow sore before you know it.

"Jesus. Here," Steve mutters, having spotted your struggle from where he had been trying to find the necklace under your bed. Without waiting for your response, he gently plucks the delicate chain from your fingers and moves behind you.

The chain clasps together with a satisfying click. As he lets go of it, the tips of his fingers brush ever so gently against your spine and you watch him in the mirror as his eyes move from your neckline to your face.

"All done," he whispers, breath warm on your neck. You can feel his silhouette behind you — those broad shoulders and arms that you don't want to imagine being held by.

But you do anyway.

"Thanks for doing this with me," you whisper, without taking your eyes off of him in the reflection of the mirror. He doesn't look away and your heart skips two beats.

Your fingers fidget with the locket.

"I'm just worried about Max," you say and then bite your tongue, surprised by your own admission. Something in his eyes— it catches in your chest and coaxes your concerns out of you.

"Hey, hey," he says softly, turning you around to face him, his hand slipping into yours. The touch sends a spark up your arm, but it warms you.

All this while, you had been trying to put on a brave face for your sister. But standing in your house, being faced with memories you only think of on the coldest nights— the reality impales you with a terrifying finality. A tear escapes the corner of your eye.

You don't want to see the ruth in Steve's face as he tilts your head towards him with a soft Hey. His eyes are round but far from pitiful.

"She's going to be okay. We're going to make sure that she's alright."

four.

Steve's throat is closing up. A demobat's tail wrapped firmly around his neck restricts all airflow as a swarm of its siblings sink their fangs into his sides. Metal coats his mouth, the agonizing pain sending a shockwave though his body. He can't even scream; the sound builds and dies in his throat. The incessant attacks provide him a surge of adrenaline to thrash at the bat's tail, but in vain. Its grip is too tight. He can already feel the energy start to drain out of his arms as his brain begins to shut down.

If it has to end this way, Steve thinks, he wants to see you before it does. The Upside-Down starts to dim before his eyes as he tries to picture your smile. Radiant, warm. Everything this hell-hole isn't.

Then suddenly, the demobats are screeching around him and his sides are not being torn apart anymore.

Steve's eyes shoot open, to find you looming above him — cheeks streaked with tears and grime, fending off the incoming swarm of bats with a boat paddle. Your presence seems to give him a bolster. He tightens his grip on the bat's tail and bites off a chunk. The wretched creature screeches, instantly loosening its grip on his neck and the oxygen rushes into his throat — almost choking him, but it is a welcome pain. Feeling returns to his fingertips in the form of a faint buzzing.

Standing up and swaying slightly, he swings the creature around by it's tail, slamming it to the ground with a final thud before using his foot to rip it in half. The blood streaks across his slacks but he is too tired to care.

Three things register in his head. One) You are here, in the Upside-Down. So are Robin, Nancy and Eddie. Two) He is alive. Three) You're throwing yourself at him and he immediately wraps his arms around you, shaking. You are trembling too, and a sob bubbles up from your throat.

"What—" he pants into your hair, "What are you doing here?"

You pull back and reach for his face, cupping his cheek. It is too dark to be entirely sure but save for a couple of scratches you seem mostly unharmed. Your eyes are swimming with tears and he desperately wants to comfort you but his on hand is shaking so badly, he is glad you're there to steady him.

"You didn't come up for 3 minutes," you run your thumb across his cheekbone.

"How could I just leave you?"

five.

"You okay in there?" Steve's voice jolts you from your thoughts.

Nancy and Robin trudge several feet ahead of you, Robin's flashlight swinging wildly as she talks animatedly. You look up at Steve, and try to gauge if you should lie or tell the truth.

"I'm just thinking about what pizza I'm getting after we torch this asshole," you quip after a moment and Steve laughs. A good laugh— the kind that travels up your chest and warms your being.

"I'm assuming it's classic margherita?" He asks, slowing down to keep up pace with you. He swings his torch around, keeping an eye out for any movement.

You scoff. "What do you take me for, Harrington? I have taste, alright?"

He laughs again and it is a truly wonderful sound. "Alright, alright. Then what is it?"

"Well, we'll find out if we all make it out alive, eh?" You regret the words as soon as you say them. A silence falls between you again, cold and clammy, much like the surrounding air or lack there of.

A moment passes before Steve nudges his shoulder into yours. "The first thing I wanna do if I make it out alive is talk to this girl."

You turn to look at him, puzzled, but he's looking at the ground, gaze trained on the light thrown by his torch in front of him.

"Tell her how I feel."

You feel your heartbeat rise just ever so slightly just as a branch snaps under Steve's foot. He kicks it aside and steps over a vine.

"She works at Family Video with Robin and I. I only met her a few months ago, but I feel like I've known her forever, you know? She gets me, and I know I am a little stupid about somethings but I get her. She is the only thing that makes complete sense to me. She's so smart, so brave, so beautiful and she— she makes me laugh. She makes me laugh so much."

Steve jumps over a wide log, and you feel like your heart has grown wings and fluttered it's way out of it's cage.

Every word of his feels like it's filling you with air, lifting you gently off the ground. It feels too much, like you're dreaming and might wake up anytime soon, crying about losing something so perfect.

"Steve," you manage, but your voice is weak and croaky. If Steve hears you, he doesn't look at you.

"We've been through so much together, in such less time and I don't think I could have made it this far if it wasn't for her. I don't.. I don't want to share this with anybody else. If I don't make it out alive... my only regret would be not telling her this. And telling her that—" he pauses in his tracks and finally turns to look at you. The expression on his face knocks the wind out of you. Nobody has ever looked at you this way.

"That.. I love you," he says, voice soft as silk and all you can do is close the space between you two to pull him in for a kiss.

You didn’t think, not for a second, not when you had first realised you liked him, that Steve Harrington would return your feelings that you kept so well-guarded. You imagined that friendship was as far as it would go, and tried your best to be indifferent to the growing feelings in your heart.

But the truth was, Steve got you like nobody did. Saw you like nobody else did.

When Steve pulls back, his eyes are shining with something so fierce, you think you might burn under his gaze.

"I love you too," you whisper against his lips and he sighs as if a humongous weight has been lifted off of him. You kiss him once more, then twice and rest your forehead against his. The smile on his face fills you with a newfound courage to face the impending doom.

"We're making it out alive, you and I."

[accihoe]

Deputation Gone Awry

Pairing: Avenger Bucky x Avenger fem!reader

Summary: The title is self-explanatory. But Barnes and Y/L/N go on a mission with Wilson and Romanoff. Things go awry. James and Y/N are stuck in a safehouse together amidst a blizzard.

Warnings: mean and condescending Bucky. Jealousy. Angst. Fights. Fluff. Injuries and stitches. Please don't this read if injuries make you uncomfortable.

Genre: angst to fluff

A/n: As always, my loves, please don't steal my work. Tag me and give me credit if you post my work on other platforms or use my ideas. God bless.

xxxx

"Good girl." Y/N grinned as the cat hopped onto her couch and snuggled up against her thigh (literally my cat and I rn. Her name is Goose.). A knock at the door startled the cat, who ran underneath the bed. "Dang it. Coming!" Y/N called as she got up and went to the door.

"Hey, kiddo, remember you're going on a mission with Barnes, Wilson, and Romanoff. You leave tomorrow. Get packing chop-chop." Tony clapped his hands together to enunciate his words. Y/N's stomach warmed, and her heart pounded when she heard his surname. She packed quickly. According to the list Tony had given her at the briefing in the boardroom.

She went to Steve's room and knocked on the door. Muffled voices quietened, and two pairs of footsteps came to the door. When it opened, Y/N bit her lip in excitement before shifting to the side as James pushed past her. "Hey Y/N/N. Can I help you?" Steve leaned again the doorframe.

"Hey Steve. Yeah. Could you please watch Goose? I'm going on a mission tomorrow." She asked. "Isn't that Fury's cat?" Steve was puzzled. "Yeah. That's why you've gotta take extra care of her." Y/N smiled. Steve agreed (after Y/N made him microwave brownies), and soon, all the belongings of the cat (Flerken) and Goose were inside of Steve's room.

The following morning, Y/N was in the Quinjet. Her belongings stowed away as she sat behind the stick in the cockpit. Bucky came in first. "You're early for once.". "Well, I've never been late, Barnes. I'm actually very punctual." Y/N said as she put her magazine down. James scoffed. "What are you doing there anyway? The seats are here." Bucky changed the topic, realizing he had no evidence to deflate her ego with in the previous topic.

"I'm the pilot." She said. "Yeah, right. You can hardly steer a bike." Bucky scoffed. "Bikes and planes are two entirely different things, Barnes." She sing-songed. "This is a jet." Bucky answered with a sly grin. He finally had something to belittle her for. One slip-up. "You know what I meant. Bikes and jets are still very different things." Y/N sighed.

"They're not actually that different if you compare the layouts and the functionalities. I mean, you've got seats in both, a steering stick in both -" Bucky started. "Okay, okay." Y/N moved out of the cockpit and went to the back of the jet. Bucky grinned in victory. Nat and Sam joined shortly afterwards.

"Where's Y/N?" Sam asked. "Dunno." Bucky shrugged. "She's already been here. It's her magazine." Nat said from the cockpit. Y/N emerged from the back. "Sorry. I was just checking our supplies." Y/N smiled as she stepped into view. "There's our captain." Sam grinned. "Pilot." Bucky corrected.

Bucky's scowl returned as Y/N went to the cockpit. He dramatically clipped in his seatbelt and held on for dear life as they flew to their destination. "You know she's a licensed pilot, right?" Natasha asked, not looking up from the magazine Y/N tossed to her.

"By the way she flies, it doesn't seem like it." Bucky hissed. "I'm able to read." Natasha said. "It's very turbulent. I don't know how." Bucky huffed. "We did just flie through a few typhoons." Nat answered calmly as she flipped a page. "Seriously? We're not hurricane hunters. Why's she flying us through typhoons?" Bucky groaned.

"Because she knows what she's doing." Nat finally looked at Bucky. Bucky resolved to silence for the rest of the flight and was less but still dramatic when they landed. The mission went smoothly, and all went according to plan until Y/N's suit belt hooked onto a rusted lever broke off and fell onto the steel floor.

Bucky grabbed Y/N and pinned her down as the opposition fired at them. Y/N's heart hammered in her chest, but she did not allow her silly crush to jeopardize the mission or her status. So she flipped them over and held Barnes down as she got up and fired single shots at the men, bullets laced with instant toxins to make whoever was shot pass out (unrealistic I know but bear with me).

After several moments of fighting, they ran out with their mission partners just in time to miss the start of the ambush. Amidst an ambush and a quickly approaching blizzard, Y/N lost sight of the rest of the team but thankfully bumped into Bucky. They ran off together, and Bucky hijacked a bike from the ambushers.

Y/N's cheeks were hot despite the snow as she held onto Bucky Barnes. They drove as far out of sight as they could. Y/N managed to locate a safehouse established by S.H.I.E.L.D and gave Bucky directions. Once they arrived at the safehouse, Bucky was fuming. "Why the hell would you put us all in danger like that!? And then shoot them all! We could have interrogated them for evidence or answers!" Bucky yelled at Y/N. Y/N sighed deeply. "Here we go..." She muttered underneath her breath.

Y/N had always been kind to Bucky despite his condescending persona towards her. She looked past it, blinded by her love for the man. He particularly liked to belittle her in front of others. She's no fool. She knew what he was doing and why he was doing it. "And now you're silent!?" Bucky went on condescending and patronizing her, but Y/N heard the exertion in his voice. It got meeker and meeker until they reached the safehouse by foot as the bike could not go through the snowpack.

Y/N noticed the limp in Bucky's step, his right leg particularly. She noticed the discomfort in his eyes when he sat down after checking around and locking the door. She grabbed her medical aid and kneeled in front of him by the fireplace. "Goodness, no, I don't need you messing up another thing. I'm fine. Wish I had Natasha here instead." Bucky groaned when he caught on to what she was doing. Y/N ignored the nauseating jealousy. Bucky looked mortified as she forced him to remove his trousers but allowed him to keep the thermal knee-length pants on.

She rolled the left side of the pants up where a dark red patch was. Bucky hissed in discomfort. Y/N gasped quietly at the wound, getting disinfectant and cleaning the wound carefully. She disinfected the needle with a lighter before stitching up his wound and putting cream and a plaster over.

The whole time, Bucky was complaining. Y/N droned out his voice to focus on his wound. When she was doing up the bandage, Bucky was still condescending her, "You tie as crap as you fly. Ha, that rhymes. But seriously. Did you attend the medical course?". That was it. Y/N ripped off that bandage (not the plaster) and gathered her stuff quickly before getting up and storming off. Bucky scoffed, but he did not even convince himself.

Bucky had several attempts at putting the bandage on properly himself, but he gave in when the pain got to him. Shamefully, Bucky made his way upstairs with the bandage. His heart leapt into his throat when he saw Y/N in her thermal clothing and not the suit. Y/N's mission attire was not nearly at voluptuous as Nat's, Bucky never assumed she had such a fine pair of legs. He watched as she scrubbed at his trousers to clean the blood before hanging them in front of the fireplace.

"You may come in, James." Bucky's heart dropped at her voice. She noticed him and called him by his full name. "I uh.. look, I'm sorry. But I need help with the bandage." Bucky croaked. Y/N sighed as she put her hands on her hips. "Why? I assume you attended the medical course?" Y/N tilted her head to the side. "No.. I didn't." Bucky's dropped his head slightly. "Sit down on the bed which, by the way, I'm sleeping in tonight." She said.

After wrapping Bucky's bandage properly and giving him clothes she'd found, Y/N shooed Bucky out of her room. Out of boredom, Bucky went through files of the agents the safehouse had and their personal lives. Bucky lingered on Y/N's. He looked at her rescuing people and animals. He kept his eyes on one where Y/N held a baby. A brief image of her holding a blue-eyed baby and standing beside him flashed before his eyes.

He looked at her in a pretty sundress. Good grief. How did they know and acquire all this about her personal life? Did she know? Was someone stalking her? Bucky's blood boiled with rage at the thought. Bucky closed the file and put it away as he heard Y/N coming downstairs. His skin crawled as he recognized the sweatpants adorning her lovely legs. Steve's.

"Where'd you get Steve's sweatpants?" He asked before he could think. "I didn't know that they were his. I found them in the drawer." She said. "And you didn't check for any women's clothing?" Bucky snarled. She had it.

"I am done with you constantly condescending me, James Barnes! I have only been kind to you from the start, and all you've done is misuse my kindness. I'm fed up with your constant attempts at making me feel less clever or competent because I can assure you that I am at a much higher level that you make me out to be. I'm aware that I might not be some professionally trained assassin or spy or have any remote form of superpowers or supernatural abilities, but I am far more intellectually competent than most! Mark my words. Once we are done with this mission, I will make sure that you never have to spend a moment in my presence again! You can find yourself a woman who meets your delusional capabilities for accommodating you on a mission! I. Am. Done." She went back upstairs.

Though she was stern with what she had to say, she did not yell or raise her voice. She addressed him calmly and maturely. Bucky felt even worse because of that.

Bucky made little effort to stop himself from going back to the file. His heart launched into his throat. He felt like a cartoon character with heart eyes floating after his lover and a visible hammering heart. There stood Y/N in a 1940s themed dress. Hair curled accordingly. Lips painted red. Her dazzling smile captured his heart solidly. A soldier's blazer, almost identical to his, was draped over her shoulders. If he had not seen her date of birth, he would have assumed that she was from that time.

Bucky put away the file after he had looked through it around eight times. He made his way upstairs after ensuring the door was locked and the fire was out. With a slight struggle to be quiet, he was in front of her door. He knocked quietly. "What, Barnes?" He could hear the frustration in her voice. "May I come in?" He asked. "Why?" Was all that she answered. "I want to apologize to you. Face to face." After a few moments of silence, the door creaked open. Y/N closed it once Bucky was in to trap in the heat.

"I don't know where to begin.." Bucky admitted. "Sit down. You need to ease the usage of your leg a little. And before you say anything, we were taught this in the course." Y/N said. "I wasn't going to condescend you. I swear I'll try my best to never do that again." Bucky said truthfully as he sat down.

Y/N assisted him in elevating his leg. "I don't know why it's so... normal today. My wounds are usually much less painful and heal easily." Bucky said. "It's a pretty deep wound, sarge." Y/N said. "Sarge?" Bucky grinned. "Sorry." Was what Y/N said as she sat down on the windowsill. "No, no, I like it. Takes me back to my golden days." Bucky smiled. "You sound as old as you are." Bucky laughed at that.

"Look, Y/N/N. I should probably start from the day we met. I should never have treated you like any less. And let me assure you, I've never for a moment believed that you are any less, even if I've treated you otherwise. I knew from the start that you were sharp. Smart. Kind. Able. Clever, very clever. Undoubtedly beautiful. And what threw me off is when you were kind to everyone else, and I was new, you were kind to me. When everyone hated me, you were still kind to me. I feared the worst. So I tried to convince myself that you are less than what you actually are, to justify the fear of being mortified by such a real doll. A dame. A babe, as you youngsters say." Y/N chuckled at the last bit.

"I am not trying to justify my actions with nice words! I'm being completely honest about what and why. You looked at me like you were proud of me. Like I wasn't such a worthless undes-" "Hey. Don't inflict any more hatred on yourself. HYDRA created enough negative neural pathways. We need to cover them with positive thoughts. So that we can see more of that smile that charmed ladies into paying for a meal." Y/N said. Bucky looked at the floor with tinted cheeks. "You're a.. what do they call it? Nerf? Nurd. Nerd. You're such a nerd." It was Y/N's turn to laugh.

"I didn't want to make this apology about me. I really am so sorry. I sure don't deserve it, but if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I'd be honored." Bucky said with a small smile. The air in the room was far more pleasant. "I forgive you, Bucky. I forgave you the moment you knocked on that door." Y/N said. "What? Why?" Bucky was puzzled. "Because you made the effort to come upstairs and apologize to me. You could've called me downstairs or buzzed me. But you came upstairs. That alone was an apology in itself." Y/N smiled.

Bucky recognised that smile as the one from the picture with the baby, and the one where she cradled a kitten amidst a rescue, and the one with the sundress, and the one on that 40s themed photograph. He saw her true smile. A sight that he was instantly hooked on. He mimicked her smile. "Could we try again? At being partners in the work field? I really need you on my team. Even though I never wanted to admit it. Maybe friends?" Bucky wanted so much more than friends.

"I'd love nothing more, sarge." Y/N got up and shook his hand. That's where the friendship brewed from.

xxxx

Fin.

Part 2?

Not proofread.

Gif not mine

[mypoisonedvine]

it's finally happening! another sleepover!

those of you who have followed for a while remember when I hosted sleepovers every saturday night, and they were always so fun. I'm too busy to do that now, but when I saw that I had (somehow, miraculously) reached thirty thousand followers (!?!?!?!), I knew this was the only way to celebrate.

so first of all, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who has supported me and my writing over the years!! you are genuinely what keeps me going and it's so amazing to share my works with you guys!

starting friday evening (exact time tbd but I will start accepting requests and other asks early!) and continuing through most of saturday, I will be taking requests, playing games, and interacting with you guys which I have missed so so much <3

SLEEPOVER GAMES

requests!

of course, requests. send a drabble/headcanon idea for any character/actor/fandom I've written for before (check my masterlist!) - obviously not every request will get written because I just get too many, but I'm gonna try to have a lot of diversity in terms of fandoms, characters, and kinks.

emoji games!

🎵 ~ send a character name + the music note emoji and I will tell you a song that makes me think of the character and why!

😍 ~ send a character name + the heart eyes emoji and I will talk about what I think they're like when they have a crush on someone!

💋 ~ send a character name + the kiss emoji and I will write about what I think they're like during a makeout session

🖋️ ~ send a title of one of my fics + the fountain pen emoji and I will tell you about the 'behind the scenes' of the fic, any alternate titles or endings I considered, etc.

other games!

would you rather ~ this one is a bit self-explanatory, but if you send me a would you rather question (ideally fandom/character related) I'll pick my preference and maybe write about it a bit (e.g. "would you rather hook up with eddie munson in a bar or be steve harrington's friend-with-benefits?")

fuck, marry, kill ~ three character names and I have to decide which ones to fuck, marry, and kill

spouse, one-night stand, best friend ~ same thing but slightly different categories, based on that one shitpost I made that has like a bajillion notes for no reason

reblog, sequel, delete ~ this is my version of 'fuck marry kill' but for fics! send me three of my fic titles and I have to decide which one I'd reblog to promote, which one I'd write a sequel to, and which one I'd delete hypothetically. not doing any random sequels and definitely not deleting an old fic haha it's just about which one has room for a sequel and which one doesn't!

other rules: 18+ only for the entire sleepover and my blog; this is a celebration for my followers so I ask that you follow me before you participate; please no necro/snuff, raceplay, underage, or scat kink requests; do not resend questions or requests, it takes me a while to get through everything; feel free to send multiple different requests/games just keep in mind I'm trying to mix it up so I won't do the same thing over and over!

tagging mutuals and friends who may want to participate, and who have been so helpful and important to me since I started this blog c: @quinnsmunson @starduststevie @mydearzero @earlgreydream @candyflossfairy @iraot @trelaney @wroteclassicaly @navybrat817 @breakoutt @mustyrosewater @syddsatyrn @littledemondani @writteninsaturn @pedgito @rosemaremembrance @ethereal27cereal @spiderrrling @hellfiremunsonn @foxgloveprincess @sagelunatic @always-andromeda @ebiemidnightlibrarian @sweetdreamsbuck @bubblebuckys @prcents @bruhlsbees @aarielsea @chrissquares @gogolucky13 @obsessedprincess @thesoftdumbass @whatevermonkey @inber @badwolfbadwolf @pedrospascalian @hornystan @cyberpunkyunho @serenalyon @emsgoodthinkin @ultraintrovertedgryffindor

[hornyhornyhimbos]

NSFW Alphabet ~ Steve Harrington Edition

warnings and tags: MINORS DNI (18+) lots of mentions of oral m!receiving, piv smut but not really, missionary sex, cowgirl sex, and lotus sex are all talked about, mentions of quickies, mentions of toys, honestly there's probably more but i'm too lazy to look LMAO

SFW version can be found over on my ST blog - @honeysuckleharringtons

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

This man is so lovey-dovey. Lemme tell y'all. You spend an hour having sex, you're getting two hours of cuddles afterward. As soon as you both finish, his arms are immediately wrapped around your torso and he's trailing soft kisses along your collarbone. It's safe to say his favorite after sex activity, cuddles for days.

Now, as for you. He is always making sure you get whatever you need. But he is a little dumb sometimes so you do have to occasionally say, "Hey, can we get after-sex snacks?" but once you say it, he's sprinting down the stairs to make you a bowl of your favorite cereal.

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and their favorite body part of yours)

His hair. There's a reason he was called "The Hair" in high school. He actually loves having a good hair routine and takes pride in having a nice appearance. I just feel like he has a really good relationship with his hair, yk?

As for you my darling, I can't unsee this man being a boob guy. Like A-Cups? The perfect size to hold in his hands! D-Cups? The perfect place to lay his head when watching a movie. Every titty is a good titty.

But if we're talking non-sexual, he just really likes all of you. Every inch of your body has something different to offer him, how could he choose?

C = Cum (any cum-related headcanons)

He loves watching you swallow his cum. He loves it when it dribbles down your chin and your tongue juts out to catch it. He loves when he pulls out and it spatters all over his stomach and you just lick your way around his stomach. He loves that you love his taste.

D = Dirty Secret (any dirty secret of theirs)

Before the two of you got comfortable with the idea of phone sex, he used to jack off while looking at a Polaroid of the two of you from his family's summer cookout, taking in how beautiful your body looked in that teeny red bikini.

E = Experience (do they know what they're doing?)

Safe to say, this man got his fair share of bitches in high school. HOWEVER those were just hook-ups. You were the one who taught him the difference between hooking up and making love.

You also taught him that lotus is his favorite position but that's a conversation for later 🤭

F = Favorite Position (self-explanatory)

Hey, look it's later!

Up until you, Steve had always had very vanilla, missionary-style sex. He thought it was the closest he could get with a partner, holding their hands as he watched them climax beneath him. That was, until he came in one day and saw you reading a Cosmo magazine.

The article had been about "5 Sex Positions You Need to Try ASAP!" So naturally, he peeked over your shoulder to see what the article had been all about.

Though he thought he was as stealthy as a ninja, his hot breath tickled your neck and you nearly knocked him out with the magazine when you turned to face him, not realizing he'd made it to your place yet.

So once you registered it was him, it struck up a conversation about spicing up your love life. You didn't really need the help, you were in the rabbit stage of your relationship, but it didn't hurt to ask. And so, you presented him the illustration of the lotus position and expressed interest in it. Needless to say, he was gone from there.

He loves the intimacy of it. The forced proximity, the need for eye contact, the feeling of your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms over his shoulders, one usually at his nape, tugging the little waves that sit there. He especially loves that it gives him very easy access to your boobs.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely depends on the situation. If it's an anniversary or something special, he makes it as romantic as he can. But if you're having a quickie on his lunch break, he's laughing his ass off at how clumsy the two of you are being in the supply closet. He's a sarcastic ass so that doesn't help matters either.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they?)

He keeps it pretty clean-shaven I'd say. He struggles with insecurities of how curly it is so it kind of bothers him to look at. Plus he knows it tickles your nose when you go down on him so he just feels there's more harm than good from not shaving it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment?)

As previously mentioned, Steve is always a hand-holder during missionary (and during cowgirl too when he's not holding your tits). As previously mentioned, his favorite position is lotus. It's safe to say, this man's love language is quality time and he LOVES romance and intimacy.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanons)

He rarely jacks off. That's what you're for, right?

No but in all seriousness, the only time he will is if you aren't spending the night together and he just really needs it. Then he'll call you up for a good ol' round of phone sex. Your voice is enough to get him off anyway, so why not take advantage of it every now and again?

K = Kink (any or all of their kinks)

Oh, this man and his praise kink. He didn't receive much praise growing up, so the little "Doing so good, Stevie's" and "Look so beautiful inside me, babe's" really make him feel good about himself.

He also enjoys edging and orgasm denial/delay. He loves when you're giving him a handy or a BJ and just... pull away. Something about letting go and giving someone else control instead of being uptight and stressed from work, it just feels so good to him.

L = Location (favorite place to do the do)

Surprisingly, he probably enjoys good ol' bed sex the most. It just feels natural, like that's where the two of you should be together forever.

Though one of his favorite memories is when he bent you over the kitchen table one day while passing the time until dinner finished cooking. He also likes car sex, the possibility of getting caught when you're parked in a random parking lot/parking garage, and the closeness of it.

M = Motivation (what gets them going?)

Oh, he LOVES lingerie. One time he came home to you cooking dinner in nothing but one of his t-shirts and a brand new pair of lacy blue panties peeking out from underneath and he FOLDED.

N = No (something they'd never do, turn-offs, etc.)

If you ever asked him about any form of scat play (piss, shit, vomit, any of it) he'd be out of there so fast. While he doesn't particularly like his parents, his mama raised him to be a very neat individual and he knows how many germs are in that shit (literally) so scat play is a big N-O from him.

O = Oral (preference in giving/receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves both. Him receiving happens more often because there's no way you'd ever say no to having his dick slammed down your throat, but he loves both.

As for skill, you definitely had to show him how to give head. He'd always been curious, but Tommy H. had always told him about how nasty it was the couple times he'd tried it on Carol so it wasn't until he was older that he'd opened back up to the idea. Luckily for him, you were very happy to be the first contestant.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the overall mood and vibes. He loves those nights where all is quiet, he puts on candles and lets you have a nice, hot bath while he sets up the most romantic scene you have ever seen. But he's definitely not opposed to a quickie, he LOVES the fast pace, the possibility of getting caught (because he loves the idea of anyone and everyone see the hold that no one but he has on you).

Q = Quickie (opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Oh, this man and his quickies. It's pretty much a part of your daily routine to have a quickie in the shower. It starts on the premise of "saving water by showering together" but really, it's just easy access to having sex and keeping yourselves awake for work.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's not one to experiment unless it's something you wanna do. He's very much a creature of habit and unless it's something he knows he'll like, he's never gonna ask you to try new things. However, if you come to him and ask "hey, i was thinking of trying xyz in the bedroom" he'll fold in a second.

As for risks, wowwee does this man love the idea of getting caught. Having quickies at work, car sex in a parking lot, leaving the curtains open occasionally, having sex in the bathroom when the party's one room over in the living room. He loves the risk of showing off the things only he can do to you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

How many rounds definitely depends on the vibes. Like if it's for an anniversary, he's making sure he's well rested the night before because he's not going to sleep until you've cum at least 5 times. But if it's just like casual, everyday routine type sex, he'll probably only cum like once or twice and make sure you've cum as many times as you need to before he's out like a light.

As for how long he lasts? This man can go for HOURS without cumming from all the orgasm delay and edging he's received from you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themself?)

He definitely owned a fleshlight before meeting you but he didn't need it anymore so he just threw it out. idk that they weren't invented until the 90s fight me bitch

Now as for you, when the occasional Dom!Steve shows up, he LOVES watching you squirm when he's pressing a vibrator to all the places you need it but not giving it to you long enough to cum.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves being teased as opposed to teasing you but as previously mentioned, Dom!Steve makes an occasional appearance and when he does, buckle up girlfriend, buckle the fuck up.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He definitely doesn't make noises, he's much more of a "moaning your name" or a string of "fuck fuck fucks" rather than just incoherent moans.

He isn't like too loud unless it's warranted. Like during quickies, he gets loud because it raises the probability of getting caught but overall, he's not super loud unless you tell him to be.

W = Wild Card (random headcanon)

He loves thigh riding as much as you do.

Also he loves titty-fucking.

X= X-Ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

As @writer-in-theory once said, compression pants. 'Nuff said.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high in the beginning of your relationship but definitely goes down after the rabbit stage. Not that he's gonna say no to sex, he's just not asking for it every thirty minutes.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He's out like a light as soon as aftercare is over. Like after you shower up, he's asleep as soon as he hits the pillow.

However, morning sex really wakes him up. It's quite a juxtaposition depending on what time of day you're having sex.

-> taglist: @liberhoe @writer-in-theory @esoltis280

[fairyperks]

7 minutes in hellfire ☆

★ summary: a seemingly innocuous game of 7 minutes in heaven takes an interesting turn when you’re faced with the pairing of both eddie and steve for an unexpected night.

★ pairing: steve harrington x black fem!reader, eddie munson x black fem! reader, steve harrington x eddie munson x black fem! reader

★ includes: mutual masturbation, threesome, fingering, oral sex (m), hair pulling, praise kink, throat fucking, eddie has a dick piercing bc why not, pet names, slight degradation if you squint, handjobs, rough sex, thigh riding, squirting

★ author’s note: YES THE TITLE OF THIS IS CORNY LEAVE ME ALONE! anywho— this needed to be written LMFAO so here i am!! enjoy!!

“aw, c’mon eddie!” robin yelled, banging against the wooden door separating the pair of horny teenagers stuck in that room together from the rest of the horny teenagers that were piled onto the floor around you. “it’s been 17 minutes, get out of there you sick fuck!”

giggles erupted around you from teenagers sprinkled around, seeing as it was obvious what eddie munson & chrissy cunningham were doing behind closed doors. you were all piled all over each other in chrissy’s basement, which was surely big enough to be rented out, for a weekend game night. the game— 7 minutes in heaven, was pretty self-explanatory. it was suggested by robin, ironically, as she seemed to be the one having the least amount of fun right now. the rules were simple; whoever the bottle landed on was to choose one person to tag along with them into an empty room for 7 minutes.

eddie evidently didn't get the basic idea behind the guidelines. the little throng that had gathered let out a few gasps when the pop bottle stopped spinning and landed on chrissy. she had never spoken to you for more than a few words, yet despite this, she seemed to be tremendously well-liked. chrissy cunningham was well known since she was the leader of the hawkins high school cheerleaders. her popularity, though, wasn't in doubt because she was incredibly approachable and managed to charm everyone she met.

“um, i pick.. eddie.” chrissy’s angelic voice announced, earning a few gasps from the crowd. hell, even eddie’s face had appeared a bit shocked at the realization that the chrissy cunningham had chosen him to be locked into a room with. it was.. incredibly appalling.

“have you met eddie?” a snobby jock commented, snorting as he earned a few laughs from his friends.

“have you met a fuckin’ shower, dude?” eddie spat back at him, huffing as he hopped up off of the floor at the sound of his name being called. “i mean- jesus. i can smell your balls sweating from all the way over here.”

snickers responded to eddie’s mediocre snapback as the jock grunted curses to his friends in anger. you could tell that being one-upped wasn’t something that he was used to, and his fragile little ego had begun to crumble just like that.

“no, but seriously.” steve harrington started off, clearing his throat from next to you and yanking everyone’s attention towards him. “why him?” he asked chrissy, the tone of referring to eddie as him flying off of his tongue in disgust.

“aw, is somebody jealous?” eddie taunted, pouting his bottom lip out in mischief as he babied steve. “you want to get me alone with you that bad, harrington?”

“oh, fuck off, eddie.” steve hissed, steve snarled and huffed before relaxing his agitated stance by resting back against the wall behind him. he slumped in frustration and let his legs spread out in front of him, allowing him to slip down onto the wall.

eddie walked over to where chrissy sat, and extended a helpful hand out. gently grabbing onto her hand, he helped her up off of the ground and balanced her onto her two feet. “thank you, eds.” she hummed, the nickname causing everyone’s ears to perk up as obviously the pair was closer than everyone else had assumed. “okay, 7 minutes, right?” she asked, her ponytail bouncing behind her as she got up onto her feet.

“that is correct!” robin confirmed, sending the both of them a farewell thumbs-up as you all watched them disappear hand-in-hand into the room shortly down the hall.

shortly after they first dispersed, murmurs of what exactly they were going to do became the topic of interest around the crowd. you couldn’t fathom the two of them making out, let alone heading to anymore bases further than that.

yet, now that 19 minutes had passed, mindsets about the entire situation had effectively changed. robin returned from banging onto the door, and plopped herself down onto the floor in despair. she placed her head in her hands, banging hanging messily over her face as she sighed. “do you guys really think that they’re.. y’know..” she asked us, not really knowing what to think anymore. it was quite interesting seeing how easily her overwhelming stress levels could completely deteriorate her.

“i mean, what the hell else would you be doing in a room with chrissy?” another nameless jock chortled out. you threw the filthiest look at him, along with some other girls with common sense as the uncomfortable silence was enough to make him immediately shut down the nonsense.

when the door was finally opened roughly, the jocks erupted in applause because they assumed that eddie had "completed the job." chrissy was the first to go when the door swung open. you analyzed her body language, from the way she entered the room with eddie to the apparent difference from her leaving. she appeared more at ease, as if all of her anxieties had been taken off her shoulders while they were alone with eddie. for all you knew, they might have just shared a joint, and the entire crowd could be misinformed about their implications.

however, the more you noticed, the more that you were almost certain that they hadn't done a thing. chrissy’s poise revealed all— her tight ponytail's hairspray wasn't sweating out, and her silk baby-pink slip dress was still completely intact. eddie actually appeared to be the same as well when he exited shortly after her. actually, literally nothing had fucking changed since he entered the room— hell, his hair was already a mess.

“a full 20 minutes, munson?” steve taunted, an eyebrow raised at the pair walking back in silence. “hell, i’m impressed.”

“yeah?” eddie asked, the sound of the chains dangling off of his tattered jeans jingling as he smoothly walked past. “i’m tellin’ ya, harrington. put me and you in a room by ourselves, find out my full potential.”

steve rolled his eyes at eddie’s absentminded flirtatious behavior. you noticed it was a regular thing between them, really. their dynamic was actually quite hilarious as they were literally polar fucking opposites.

“i mean— jesus, really eddie?” robin asked, literally pulling at the ends of her short haircut in distress. “you too, chrissy! seriously? almost 20 damn minutes?”

“my apologies, robs.” eddie spoke sincerely, shrugging before shooting a quick glance back at chrissy. she was silent, yet seemed happier after whatever the hell happened back there with eddie. “now, if you dickwads don’t mind, i’d like to have my turn now.”

“what do you me- your turn? you don’t get anymore fuckin’ turns!” robin exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air as if it was obvious. you stifled a laugh, watching as eddie mocked her behavior & dramatically threw his hands up in the air as well.

the empty see-through coke bottle was just in his hand as he leaned forward and spun it around in his ring-encrusted fingers. “actually, i do.” eddie told her, his mouth scrunching up as he looked up at the ceiling in thought. “those are the rules, right? i mean, tell her i’m right, harrington. i know you’ve had your fair share of 7 minutes in the past.”

everyone, including you, threw their glances over to steve who was completely over all of eddie’s shenanigans. his head hung low, arms swung over his knees as he didn’t respond to eddie’s playful taunts.

“alright, well, anyways..” eddie snorted, “i’m fuckin’ going, so, cry about it.” he announced, wrapping his calloused fingers around the bottle and turning it, before letting it loose and watching it spin around in search of its next victim.

the previous feeling of a hole in the pit of your stomach formed once more as your nerves crunched at the bottle determining your fate once again. it was nerve-wracking, really. a fucking glass bottle was used to determine if you’d be hooking up with a complete stranger or not. while hooking up wasn’t the only activity to be commenced behind those closed doors, it was surely expected by the lot of horn-balls in this room.

sweat was dripping from the back of your neck, which was fortunately covered by your teased out curls that, after hours of pin-curling the night before, gracefully bounced onto your shoulders. you swallowed loudly enough for people in the next state to hear. heat was automatically drawn to you because of the navy-blue knit dress you had thrown on, but, all of your colored clothes had needed washing and you were rushing at the time.

your eyes bulged as you watched the bottle swivel around, slowing down at a tantalizing pace and causing the crowd to grow quiet.

your stomach churned as it did one last full-circle, & ended up looking as if it was going to stop on steve. you breathed a short sigh of relief, closing your eyes in attempt to calm yourself as you knew this meant he’d have to spin again. unless, of course, steve wanted to go in the room with him, which would be shocking. but, you weren’t one to judg-

“well, would’ja look at that?” eddie announced, causing you to open up one eye & glance at where the evil bottle had landed. the bottle obviously wasn’t on your side when you looked to see that the bottle had landed directly in between both you and steve. robin clicked her teeth, waiting on someone to say something in response to the peculiar situation.

“uh..” you stammered, looking in between steve and eddie as none of them were making eye contact with the other. “r-robin?” you asked, hoping for some kind of assistance with the awkwardness served to you on a silver platter.

she pursed her lips out, shrugging at the three of you. “i mean— it’s up to eddie. he can choose either of you, or, y’know..”

“well, three’s a crowd, dontcha think?” eddie snickered, grinning at the two of you with unknown intentions etched into his eyes. at first, you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but when he eagerly hopped up off of the floor & walked over towards your direction the realization came rather quickly.

“wait, are you serious?” you inquired, looking up at eddie with your curiosity-filled eyes. although he was despised by many, his charisma consistently outweighed everyone else's hate of him. he never shied away from speaking his mind and was always shamelessly himself. truthfully, there were times when you envied his self-assurance. even more so given that you occasionally struggled with your own identity, you had a particular degree of respect for anyone who was unashamedly themselves, regardless of who said what.

“as a heart attack, babe.” he winked and extended his hands in the same way he had just done for chrissy, extending them towards you. you clung to his rough hands and allowed him to easily pull you up off the ground. “unless, of course, you’re not?” he made certain, maintaining his grip on your gentle hands and peering into your eyes. your heart was beating at an alarming rate and, in response to eddie’s soothing words, it damn near thumped outside of your chest.

you nodded, the embarrassment being too high at the idea of verbally admitting that you’d willingly go in a room alone with eddie. he smiled in acceptance, briskly letting go of your hands and directing in front of him for you to go ahead oh him. “ladies first.” he cornily announced, grinning and showcasing his deepened smile lines for all to see.

“you too, harrington.” eddie spoke, causing a literal record to scratch as everyone in the room looked at what the actual fuck had just came out of eddie’s mouth.

“yeah fuckin’ right.” steve laughed sarcastically, looking over at robin for confirmation. “tell this dickhead that i don’t have to go in there with him.”

“steve..” robin trailed off, irritation steadily growing. “it’s just a game, dingus.”

“we can just skip this round..” you suggested, refusing to sit and deal with steve’s bitchiness regarding to eddie’s entire being. the whole deal was becoming a bit much for you to endure, and already causing more chatter in the group than chrissy and eddie’s situation. “it’s not even that serious, really.”

eddie frowned at steve while softly prodding you in your direction because he saw that you were starting to shut down. despite not personally knowing you, eddie had certainly noticed you on several occasions. in all honesty, he had no other choice but to take notice of you. every time he caught you in his gaze, you were able to unknowingly and selfishly occupy his head for some time. he had always felt that attractive individuals were to be noticed and valued for their beauty. especially since he has developed as a musician, which has given him a distinct perspective on the more basic things that most people tend to overlook.

steve’s stiff demeanor immediately relaxed as he truly took the time to look at your innocent face. your brown eyes had first been slightly excited about the idea of the game but had since grown unhappy. he couldn't stand to be the reason for that as it was already tearing at his heartstrings.

“no, wait, i’m sorry.” steve apologized to you, biting down onto his bottom lip in frustration. “it wasn’t even- look, i’ll play your stupid game eddie, alright?” he quickly gave in, causing eddie to shake his fist in the air in uncontainable excitement.

“attaboy!” eddie throatily exclaimed, watching as steve reluctantly got up off of the floor and proceeded to grab onto his shoulders. eddie shook steve’s shoulders aggressively, and bobbed his head around like a rag-doll in excitement. “you gotta fuckin’ relax, man.” eddie whispered aloud into steve’s ear, the grip on his shoulders growing stronger as he walked on the same foot behind steve.

“seven minutes, dickheads.” robin instructed, sounding out each & every syllable. you grew quiet, not really knowing what to expect behind closed doors with this pair of literal dimwits. your feet dragged as you reluctantly walked down the short dimly lit hall, the sound of eddie teasing steve growing louder and louder behind you. he poked and prodded at steve, whispering god knows what and only earning weak huffs of annoyance in response.

by the time your shaking palm actually wrapped around the doorknob, your heart was pounding in your ears. in all honesty, you weren't even able to articulate the source of your anxiety. while being in a room with eddie for 7 minutes had piqued your attention, the addition of steve managed to slightly confound it. what the hell were all three of you supposed to do in a room alone— talk about your feelings?

it appeared to be an ordinary guest room, with the exception that there was so little light that you could essentially only see each other's silhouettes there. the only light source was a faint lamp suspended from the room's corner, which, surprisingly, only illuminated that one area.

“nice place you got here,” eddie snickered, leaving steve alone as he took wide steps around the 4x4 while he soaked in his surroundings. quickly growing comfortable, eddie shrugged off his layers as his vest was thrown onto the bed, while his leather jacket discarded onto the floor. eddie was left in his same ol’ hellfire t-shirt as he nudged your shoulder playfully, stumbling around before collapsing backwards onto the plush mattress belonging to the queen size bed in the middle of the room. “ya come here often?” he asked you, lifting his thick head of hair up off of the bed and shifting his weight onto his elbows behind him.

“not at all, actually.” you giggled, shrugging as you had little to no connections with chrissy personally. “this is my first time at one of her ‘infamous’ game nights, and well..” your voice trailed off, deciphering if going any further was worth the extra breath. obviously, eddie & chrissy had some kind of special connection for them to be stuck in that room earlier for damn near 20 minutes.

“well?” steve interrupted from the corner of the room where he stood, an irritated expression etched onto his face. “you’re not enjoying yourself, right?” he answered for you, seeming to get defensive off of absolutely nothing as you hadn’t said a single syllable to him.

you shook your head, shrugging softly as it wasn’t anything worrisome in your opinion. “i never said that.” you quickly threw steve’s defensive tactics right back at him, your shortness of answers showing that this wasn’t a topic you’d like to stay on.

“you were thinking it.” eddie chimed in from the bed, still sprawled out as he stared up at the ceiling. “which, is to be expected. steve is a certified dick muncher.”

steve closed his eyes in thinking as he threw his head back against the door and exhaled deeply. there was a clear tension between the two of them, and as the white noise in the room grew unbearably loud, your chest constricted in discomfort. when you reached the corner of the bed, a few inches from eddie’s position, you shifted your feet over and softly sat down.

the inches between you two were cut short as when eddie felt your presence, he almost immediately threw himself to sit upwards. he leaned back onto his palms, not being able to stop grinning uncontrollably at you as even in this dimly lit room, your beauty still shined radiantly.

“something on your mind, babe?” he spoke, twisting his mouth as if it was obvious. “i mean, we’re in here for fuckin’ 7 minutes. might as well get it off your chest.”

you exhaled and reached up to pull nervously at the spread curls on the back of your neck. your thighs tensed up tightly as a result of the usage of a pet name, with warmth beginning to build between the friction there. a query was gnawing at your plump lips, trying to escape for eddie’s interpretation, but it was being held back by your own crippling worry.

“it’s not really— i mean, it’s just a little nerve-wracking being in here with you after y’know.. you just got out of here with chrissy and well..” your voice trailed off once more, sweat accumulating onto your forehead as you instantly regretted saying anything at all. “actually, nevermind, i’m sorry. it’s none of my business.”

eddie acknowledged your concerns with a hum and twisted his mouth completely to one side of his face as he deliberated on how to best express his response. “uh, well, you’re right. but, i can understand your concern.” he chuckled, causing the chains along his belt loop to jingle with each movement. “chrissy just needed a shoulder to lean on about some shit she’s going through. and, i happened to be the shoulder that she chose, no biggie.”

“wait, man, seriously?” steve chimed in, adjusting hisself and folding his arms around his chest. “you were in here with chrissy for how long? and all you guys did was talk?”

eddie glanced back at you after blinking without displaying any emotion. “is he deaf?” he asked at the profound ignorance from steve’s question, gaining a laugh from you and a smile of achievement from him. steve’s irritation, which tended to get worse after every encounter with eddie, had you cover your mouth with your hand as you giggled to yourself.

“but, yeah, dick muncher.” eddie repeated, turning to face steve with a sardonic expression. “if you must know, i was able to control myself around an attractive girl for an extended period of time, just like i’m doing right now.”

your ears perked up at the sound of this, as hearing that eddie found you attractive was, well, intriguing. you couldn’t lie, both eddie and steve were extremely easy on the eyes. despite how drastically they differed, they were both immensely handsome in their own right. It was a whole package deal, from eddie’s kind heart inside to steve’s arrogant façade.

“wait, so,” steve asked, blinking over at you & loosening his posture. “what exactly did you expect to happen in here?” he asked you, tilting his head slightly to the side as he stared directly at you, reading your each and every move.

“what do you mean?” you played dumb, tilting your head the opposite as steve’s and matching his eye contact head-on. you refused to let either of them see you sweat, regardless of how difficult it was becoming.

“exactly what i said.” he confirmed, jutting his neck out at his straightforward question. “you said it was nerve-wracking being in here with munson, ‘cause you thought he hooked up with chrissy. so.. did you think..”

in an effort to calm your trembling fingers from the energy that steve was currently exuding, you put your hands beneath your thighs and then sat on them. “i mean— it obviously crossed my mind, yeah.” you settled, choosing the easy way of saying it as the words of having a threesome with steve harrington & eddie munson were way too enigmatic to be true.

“crossed your mind?” eddie reiterated, “wait- you thought we were just gonna jump your fuckin’ bones? just like that?” his eyes expanded with a frightening kind of interest as he chuckled incredulously.

looking down at your lap, you encircled your arm and nervously rubbed it. the more you considered it, the less likely it was that you were against that fantasy. despite how absurd it sounded, it was one of the few promising developments that prevented you from immediately leaving this room. your exaggerated tits that protruded out of your dress caught steve’s attention ever since he entered the guest room, and his unreleased gaze upon them made certain that you weren’t unaware of his attraction towards you.

“is that what you wanted to happen?” steve’s tone shifted, his hands shifting into his back pockets as his eyes swept over your alluring figure while you sat atop of the bed. your knit dress melted perfectly around all of your curves, setting your voluptuous shape on display for all onlookers to gawk at.

eddie grew silent at the tension shift that had occurred within this room. while being the last thing he had expected for the night, he surely wasn’t against it as both you and steve were entirely his type. he wasn't one to ponder too much about his sexuality because he wasn't concerned about how the world would perceive him. even if he wasn't entirely out with labels or anything of the type, what transpired in his sex life wasn't really significant enough to be understood by anyone other than him.

“looks like you want it more than i do.” you shot back at steve, sticking a finger up in the direction of the dent in his pants that was continuously growing the more aroused he had evidently gotten. his cock had begun to ache from the comfort of his briefs, practically begging to spring out and plunge into the depths of your warm cunt.

“w-w-wait, just wait a fuckin’ second.” eddie stammered out, rustling about as he scavenged through his denim vest pockets in search for the answer to his prayers. “son of a bitch! harrington, you better have a fuckin’ rubber in those huge ass pockets, dude i swear..”

steve chuckled to hisself, seeing as he was already way ahead of the game when he had snuck his sly fingers into his back pockets only a few moments prior. he pulled a hand out of his pocket, the condom victoriously held in between two of his fingers.

eddie cheekily grinned at steve, his tongue poking into the corner of his jaw as he brought his everlasting attention back onto you. “c’mere, gorgeous.” he instructed, patting onto his thigh as if you were to fit perfectly onto that spot. “i call first dibs, dick muncher.” he told steve, eyes still glued onto your own dilated pupils, “so, uh, keep your hands to yourself, yeah? i got her.”

the truth of the situation was only now beginning to dawn on you, and your eyes began to go weary. you stood up briefly and shifted into position over eddie’s lap as you moved over to him. your knees were now positioned on either side, parallel to his, and your arms extended to clasp around his veined neck. “aht, aht.” eddie mouthed, using his abrasive hands to forcefully dig his fingers into your waistline. he moved you a few inches so that you were now hovering over one of his legs rather than both.

he softly lowered you onto his thigh while holding onto the plush grooves that connected along your waist. your muscles tensed as your covered cunt sucked onto eddie’s flesh, wrapping around his thigh like a glove. he hiked up the end of your dress, encircling it repeatedly in his palm until it was sufficiently folded to be scrunched up around your waist. eddie’s nose was tickled by the fragrance of your arousal, which sent him into a rage-fueled lust spiral.

“this is what you wanted, huh?” he grunted, grabbing ahold of your chin roughly with his non-dominate hand as he forced you to look at him. eddie smushed your cheeks, inexorably watching as you whimpered helplessly under his touch. “would’ja look at that, hm.. everyone’s out there waiting for us, and what’re you doing? sitting around waiting to be fucked senseless like the filthy slut you are.”

your throat bobbed as you gulped heavily at eddie’s demeaning words. soft whimpers were heard from behind you, yet eddie’s grip on your chin ceased you from being able to see the cause of said noises. however, eddie’s eyes traveled to the sight of steve’s hands traveling underneath his unzipped trousers. he grabbed hold of hisself, massaging around the tip as only the sight of your backside clung onto eddie had his mind going absolutely crazy.

“go on, give ‘em a show.” he whispered, eyes lowered as they zoned in on steve’s actions behind you. as you began to slowly run your cunt against the stiff exterior of his denim jeans, your hands plucked at the tangled strands of his hair. while you continued to grind up against his thigh, your body gave way, sliding continually like water, a pool of dark slick growing beneath the friction.

steve’s jaw went slack as he practically had to pry his tongue off of the floor at the sight of your body grinding up against eddie’s thigh. the fluid-like motion of your thigh muscles tightening with each bit of stimulation had steve on the brink of cumming in his pants. his hand encircled around his member, jerking hisself slowly as he envisioned hisself in eddie’s place. not only that, but the erratic eye contact coming from munson himself was enough to make him fully explode.

eddie’s eyes flickered back to you, making sure not to leave you lonely as he observed your eyes struggling to remain open as a result of the extreme bliss that was flushing through you. his hold on your chin eased, and he began to slithering around to the nape of your neck, drawing you in closer to his lovely face. your clit became touch-sensitive as your pelvis spun wildly on top of eddie’s firm thighs and dragged along the rough surface of the denim.

“y-you wanna kiss me, eds?” you whispered, utilizing chrissy’s chosen nickname for him and causing him to bite down onto his bottom lip in pure, unadulterated passion. “hm? tell me how long you’ve waited for this.”

your taunting tone sent a chill through eddie’s entire body, and he smirked arrogantly at your enticing shift in mood. “all night, baby.” he grumbled as he observed how the frenetic movements caused your restricted boobs to bounce around in your dress. “you really shocked me, y’know that? who would’ve thought that you’d be so willing to fuck my thigh like this?”

he suddenly jerked your neck over to face steve, forcing you to witness steve’s complete submission as he was literally succumbing entirely to you riding eddie’s thigh as if your life depended on it. steve’s haughty demeanor had crumbled entirely at the beauty of the tableau that was being painted in front of him, and his cock had grown numb in his hands from all the feverishly pulling and straining.

“and look at what you’ve done to poor ol’ harrington..” eddie’s velvety voice hummed into your ear, causing you to shudder as he placed soft kisses along your earlobe. “he’s losin’ his shit just from watching you, doll.. just so. fuckin’. gorgeous.”

when he saw you bounce along atop eddie, steve’s lips quivered and his lovely face glowed with climactic beauty. his knuckles were now white from the force of his free hand's grip, which was securely grasping the dresser next to him. he could barely stand still without his knees buckling, and as a result, his back had slouched over, an unfixable posture.

“steve..” you mewled out, flinching as eddie clenched his thigh, causing the friction to grow harder against your sensitive bud. your folds mushed messily all over eddie’s thigh, starting to peak out the sides of your drenched panties and glide along his rugged jeans.

he responded with pained grunts, rubbing his cock raw against his rough palms as he was truly at his wits end. “c’mere, let me help.” you offered, voice strained as steve almost instantly helped himself off of the wall and made his way over to you. he was so fucking touch starved that just the slightest bit of physical interaction from you might have sent his body into a shock.

as eddie pressed his lips on your cheek and needlessly licked and sucked at your tender flesh, your face began to relax. he made sure to demonstrate that his desire for you was stronger than steve's out of envy that you were paying any of your attention to anyone but him. eddie suckled onto your sweet spot while creating dark purple hickies, causing a moan to escape your lips. his feathered kisses left a trail as he moved down onto your neck.

when steve approached you, all you heard was the buckle of his pants frantically being fumbled with as his anticipation was all too high. “so fucking perfect..” steve mumbled, gaze locked onto as you patiently awaited the reveal of his hungry cock. eddie hummed in agreement, “mm.. a real fuckin’ angel, isn’t she?” eddie asked, allowing your ego to rise in response to the lovely compliment before swiftly going back to attacking your neck. steve’s strong fingers easily pulled hisself out in front of you after grabbing hold of it. as you saw steve’s pre-cum seep from the slit and over his fingers, your mouth watered at the sight.

then, softly moving both of your hands up and down around his shaft, you wrapped your slim fingers around his and encircled him. steve’s jaw immediately went slack at the sight of the vista again as your eyes matched his gaze and you won the silent battle. eddie’s lips clung to the collarbone on the other side of you, leeching and licking your flawless skin as though he were a man starved. he murmured into your skin at the pillow-like smoothness of your ass as his hands made their way down your backside. he snaked his fingers underneath the end of your dress, caressing your cheeks & holding on like they were his, before delivering a sharp smack.

as your attention was now firmly fixed on titillating steve, you reduced the intensity of your grinding against eddie and slowed down considerably. your let your mouth salivate for a while and then dripped a glob of saliva onto the tip of steve’s cock. while you curled your thick lips around him, his hips trembled at the obscene sight of it all, nearly driving him insane. your eyes glazed over at him as you gave a little tap to his hands to signal that you had the upper hand. after releasing himself, steve wrapped his hands around the back of your head. he gently guided your lips as deep onto his cock as your throat would allow.

you started bobbing your head around his length as your cheeks hallowed, slurping all of your saliva off of his cock and using it again. as you pushed yourself through, you concentrated on breathing through your nose as you grimaced each time you felt the tip of his head slide against your uvula.

as steve’s cock was forced against the back of your throat, your nose was constantly brushing across his happy trail. he held your head immobile, & got trigger-happy as he began ramming his own hips deep inside of your mouth. eddie decided to help and took hold of your coarse hair and yanked it back as the room echoed with the loud gags and slurps of the repulsive scene. tears of bliss welled in your eye sockets as you choked on steve, watching him grunt in pleasure at how well you took him.

light taps on the door interrupted the moment, causing steve to cease his movements and pause, relaxing into your mouth. “oh-you’ve gotta be fucking kidding..” steve groaned, looking over at eddie’s direction with a helpless expression etched onto his face. eddie shrugged, loosening his grip on your roots as he looked over towards the door in curiosity.

“um, dickheads!” robin’s muffled voice yelled through the door, and you smiled as you could envision her frustration as if she was standing in front of you. “i said 7 minutes! we’re going on 11 minutes, and frankly, i’m kinda getting scared at the silence i’m hearing. so, uh, can you guys please hurry the fuck up?”

steve seized this opportunity to exert himself further, and you could literally feel his head sliding all the way down your pharynx. your throat grew a lump, and he almost melted at the sight of his cock suctioned up in your windpipe. he brought the pad of his thumb down to your cheek, and gently wiped at a tear that had fallen. although being silent was nearly impossible, you would be damned if you allowed robin to hear even a single sound from you.

“hello?” she called out once more, “i know you fuckers can hear me, yet, i’m not hearing anything in return!”

“for fuck’s sake— yeah, robs!” eddie annoyingly responded, gawking at the sight of steve’s cock stuffed balls deep inside of your mouth. “we’ll be out in a few, relax.”

“in a few?” robin scoffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance at the failure of her own game suggestion. “from now on— we’re playing simple games, like, truth or dare, y’know? simple games where i don’t have to hunt down my friend’s each and every move..” she vented, walking off as she continued to grumble her irritation aloud.

you began tapping rapidly onto the sides of steve’s thighs when you finally heard robin’s feet shuffle in the other direction. he grinned menacingly, pulling your head back off of him and watched as your sore mouth left a trail of spit in his wake. your face had degenerated into a sloppy mess, only to be greedily attacked by eddie not even a few seconds later as he snatched hold of your chin and tugged you towards him. he moaned against your worn-out lips as he savored a combination of your own saliva and steve’s pre-cum while you reclined drastically into the kiss. his fingers made their way to intertwine with your hair once more, tugging harshly opposite your scalp and causing you to wince against him.

“that was so hot, jesus.” eddie’s hushed voice spoke, groaning against your plump lips before tapping onto your thighs. “hey, hop up really quick. let me see something.”

your legs wobbled once released from the clutches of eddie’s thigh, as you had quickly gotten too used to being perched there. feeling a bit sweaty, you reached down to grab hold of the bottom of your dress and hiked it up. you pulled your dress effortlessly over your head and shoulders, leaving you in nothing except for your lacy soiled underwear. turning towards steve once more, you smiled shyly as he gawked at the way your staggering thighs swallowed your underwear whole. he breathed heavily, unavoidably excited at your luscious stature alone.

steve grabbed hold of your forearm loosely, pulling you in close as he passionately latched onto your lips. steve released a different kind of neediness with this kiss, leaving you feeling wanted as you felt his cock slowly spring up and settle against your waist. steve moaned softly when you grabbed for him, and began to slowly pump. in an effort to make him cum, you kept pulling and twisting your wrist around his member.

“how’s that feel?” you sputtered breathlessly against his lips, causing steve’s eyes to roll in the back of his head against you. the inability to even see straight caused him to pull back, sweat trickling down his forehead. “s-so fuckin’ good.” his body trembled against you, the same knee-buckling sensation returning as you continued to induce an out-of-body sensation in him.

before gently slipping his thumb pad into your mouth, he gently stroked your lower lip with his thumb. you whimpered as he tightened his grasp on your chin with his other fingers as you hollowed down your cheeks and sucked on his finger, drenching it with saliva. you encircled his digit with your tongue, as if it were your final meal, letting it swish around. once he retracted from your soft grip, he brought his hand down to your panties. as steve’s fingertips brushed against your pelvis and slid your wet panties to the side, your breath caught involuntarily.

“oh, baby..” steve cooed, circling your smooth arousal with his moist digits as he marveled at the scene. “you’re fuckin’ soaked.” he observed, watching as your facial expression magically unraveled before his very eyes at the feeling of his fingers caressing your pussy.

your tugs around steve’s thick cock grew sloppy as your hands grew numb from the repetitive movements. it also became increasingly difficult as he proceeded to plunge two of his fingers inside of your drenched cunt, curling them upwards and effortlessly driving directly into your g-spot. you let out a throaty groan as your hold on him dramatically loosened while your posture collapsed beneath him due to the ecstasy that flooded your insides.

you would’ve almost forgotten that eddie was there had you not felt his hands gently rub up onto your back muscles. you strained to multitask with both concepts of pleasure coming from both ends as the coolness of his rings sent shivers down your spine and made you gasp a little. “your shoulders..” eddie hummed, a trail of kisses being pecked onto your brown skin as he observed your less-talked about features. “are gorgeous, i mean— holy hell.”

steve accelerated his pace and rammed his fingers into you at an inexplicable pace. you felt behind you for eddie as support since your legs were becoming numb from trying to stand through this rough ordeal. stretching to wrap your arms onto eddie’s neck, you allowed yourself to slump onto his body as steve jerked his fingers all around inside you. in response, your pussy clenched and squelched around his fingers as if trapping his fingers was the primary mission. eddie reached underneath your outstretched arms, and squeezed tightly onto your perky tits that bounced along with steve’s movements before slapping them harshly.

eddie slid his hands upwards, supporting your aching forearms slung around him and pressing kisses onto your perspired skin. your vision grew blurry from the tears of immense pleasure that had welled up in your eye sockets, managing to smudge your perfect mascara. “hey, don’t tell dick muncher..” eddie comforted you, whispering into your sensitive ear canal. “but, i’m gonna fuck you so good that you’re gonna forget your own fuckin’ name.”

your breaths hitched at eddie’s promising words as you were craving the feeling of his cock rammed up inside of you. “munson,” steve spoke, smirking mischievously up at his partner-in-crime. “c’mon, man, help me out would’ja?”

eddie snickered darkly from behind you, “aw, you poor thing.” he teased, “can’t make her cum on your own? how sad.”

“dude, what?” steve asked, “i didn’t even sa-”

“doesn’t matter.” eddie interrupted, trailing his dominant hand back down your exhausted body. all of your erogenous areas twitched as you whimpered at his touch, anticipating what the two of them had in store. steve was literally fingering you to death, but he had slowed down a bit when his own fingers started to ache. eddie paused his movements just above your clit and then wrapped his thumb around the nub. he gently caressed it, making the tiny bundle of nerves ache as he frantically stroked your veiled diamond.

you mouth opened in response to the simultaneous friction coming from both of them, but no sound came out. steve proceeded to swirl his fingers around inside of you as slippery noises blanketed the area surrounding them. eddie’s rubbing, combined with his pleasant licking and sucking at your neck, had caused your clit to become very sensitive.

“attaboy, harrington.” eddie encouraged from behind you, the pace at which they both were racing against time to induce your orgasm causing his own cock to grow hard against his briefs. “i knew you had it in you.”

“yeah, yeah. hop off my johnson, freak.” steve taunted, grinning in accomplishment as your hips continuously jerked and twitched in circles around the both of them. “freak, huh?” eddie asked, lips curling up into an aroused smirk as his cock jumped in his jeans at steve’s nickname for him. “kinky, i like it.”

the orgasm of a lifetime was incoming, & you could feel the scorching sensation arising that you had grown to love so much. all of your nerves were so overexerted, that you had grown incredibly weak. “mm- i’m gonna c-cum…” you muttered as your release took hold of all of your bodily senses, your eyelids flickering shut. “not yet, gorgeous.” eddie stopped doing damage to your clit as soon as he spoke. steve halted as well, softly removing his slick-coated digits from your cunt. you moaned at how empty you were and hoped to make yourself cum by rubbing your thighs together.

eddie was already a few steps ahead of you as he halted your movements altogether, wrapping his hands around your body and prying your thighs apart. “patience is a virtue, y’know? isn’t that what the old-timers say, steve?” he asked, tongue poking into his jaw as he massaged your tense thighs.

“y’know what? i think you’re right, eddie.” steve chuckled, playing along with this sick waiting game they had you trapped in.

eddie released his hold on your thighs and repositioned his strong hands back on top of your shoulders for a quick second. he turned your body so that you were now facing him rather than steve and grinned softly at your lovely appearance. you reached out a hand, gripped his, and followed him as he lead you back to the barely touched wooden bed.

he swung you around again, making you laugh at the abruptness as everything suddenly whirled around you. you sat down as soon as you felt the bed frame's legs brushed against your knees, waiting for what would follow next. “what’re you gonna do to me, eds?” your slightly shaken voice asked, leaning back onto your palms as you watched him thoroughly observe your frame. “oh, just you fuckin’ wait.” eddie warned, turning on his heel to reach for the condom that steve had pulled out earlier.

eddie put the unwrapped condom in his mouth and bit down on it before tapping both of your thighs on the side and gesturing for you to pull them up for him. you complied easily, allowing him to grasp hold of your legs and bring them around his waist. when the distance between you two was reduced, you stretched out to grab hold of his 3/4-sleeved hellfire shirt. “take this off.” you instructed, observing as he did it with the same ease you had just given him. eddie yanked his shirt up from the bottom, ripping it off, & revealing his patchwork tattoos that were messily strewn across his chest.

he then spit the condom out onto your lap, & proceeded to massage the ins and outs of your thighs as they were secured tightly around him. “put this on.” eddie instructed in the same tone you had used, smiling as you eagerly leaned for the zipper of his jeans. your fingers latched onto the zipper and belt all at once, unzipping and unbuckling with the speed of someone whose patience was incredibly thin. gulping, your eyes zoned in on eddie’s cock that was sandwiched into his boxer briefs. you could already see how well endowed he was, as well as a wet spot forming near the tip from all of the foreplay.

your hands ran across the outline, gripping onto him ever-so-softly and watching as his breaths grew heavier at the contact. you let out a few calming exhales before moving on towards the band of his briefs, and tugged it down slowly as if you were scared for the ultimate reveal. eddie’s cock sprang out from the depth of his underwear, a slick ooze covering the length as it bobbed in place. “i-is that?” your eyes almost went crossed at the sight of the two silver barbells facing towards your amazed gaze. eddie had an apadravya piercing, running directly through the glans of his tip.

“ya like it?” eddie inquired, biting down onto his bottom lip as he grinned down at your obviously taken aback stature. “i got it just for you, babe.” he teased.

“yeah?” you asked, letting your thumb gently rub across his slit, sending a sharp jolt into his punctured nerves and causing his cock to jerk in your hands. “i- i don’t even know what to say. i’ve just never seen a piercing like that before.”

“ya hear that, harrington?” eddie asked cockily, chuckling darkly as he ran his hands over yours. “she’s never seen anything like it before. what’s that on the scoreboard? eddie, one! dick muncher, zero!”

steve struck eddie hard across his backside, making him laugh even louder at his little joke. the condom wrapper was ripped open with your teeth, and you carefully clung to it with your fingers. your fingers softly curved around eddie’s shaft as you caught hold of it, pumping a little to elicit a response from him. steve climbed up onto the bed behind you and sat against your posterior, engulfing your body between his knees.

leaning forward, you slowly slid the latex over eddie while easing it down with your fingers till it wouldn't go any lower. he moaned under your touch and stared intently as your graceful fingers continued to caress his hardened cock.

"do me a favor, harrington. hold these for me.” eddie said, grabbing your legs that were latched onto him, prying them free, and giving them to steve. steve stretched your calves backwards towards him while encircling them with his arms, giving eddie a spread-eagle view of your soggy cunt. you had never been this exposed, especially in front of someone you didn't know. a cool wave of air brushed over your pussy, causing you to tremble at the sensation.

with steve holding onto your legs securely, you relaxed your back into his lap and took a heavy breath. you were physically unable to move because of steve’s restrictions of your limbs, which prevented you from stopping any of eddie’s movements. even though you were anxious, you were also incredibly eager to feel eddie’s pierced head rupture your insides.

biting down onto your bottom lip, you eyed eddie as he grabbed ahold of his girthy shaft, and began slapping it onto your cunt to elicit a reaction out of you. you moaned into your own mouth, sighing heavily as steve began massaging your skin in an attempt to comfort your incredibly high level of arousal brewing.

“mm, that sounded pretty.” steve mumbled, his cock firm and poking against your backside. “do it again.” he persisted, prompting you to moan once more as it sounded like a beautiful symphony in his ears.

“open up for me, gorgeous.” eddie murmured, using his thumb to caress clumsily around your cunt as he was literally on the verge of falling in love with the wet squelching sounds. “gonna stretch you out, hm? how’s that sound?”

your chest constricted, and you began whining softly at the filthy touching that eddie was providing. his thumb was literally completely engulfed by your dense folds, and the sounds of his finger slipping into your depths were way too much for you to bear . “s-sounds good.” you stammered, your words almost getting caught in your throat as steve began peppering kisses along the stretch marks trailing the sides of your thighs. your sensitivity was so high due to all of the delicate touches in contrast to the earlier roughness that you could have easily experienced an orgasm right then and there.

exhaling, eddie eased hisself into you, watching as you took his cock so well. your cunt wrapped around him gradually, and you held your breath at the sight of eddie disappearing into you. “attagirl..” steve whispered into your ear, marveling at the sight as he continued to reassuringly caress your thighs. your mouth opened wide as eddie’s piercing poked precisely into your g-spot and the jutted barbells striked your cluster of sensitive nerve endings with just the right amount of force.

“fuck, eddie!” you exclaimed, groaning and biting down on your lip for dear life, trying not to splinter flesh. you tightened your grip on steve’s biceps from behind you, bracing yourself, knowing that your options were limited given the precarious position you were locked in. eddie started rutting deeply into you, feeling every nook and cranny of your cunt out with slow, passionate strokes. your tits ached as they bounced harshly with each hard thrust as he gradually applied more pressure.

your flesh was smacking against eddie’s sweaty skin with each stroke, sending shivers through your entire body at the abhorrent sound. your moans were fighting to get louder, and you knew that while the three of you were in a closed space, you could only be but so loud. you took control of the situation by using your fingertips to gingerly tilt steve’s head in your direction. you urgently opened your mouth to his, letting your lips gently graze his and the hushed sounds of your agonized cries melt into his mouth.

as steve’s fingertips dug into the sides of your thighs in this compromised posture, your hamstrings started to grow sore. while eddie’s thrusts continued to grow harsher and the curve of his cock managed to properly adjust inside your cunt, you were on the verge of passing out against steve at how overwhelmingly good it all felt. you let go of steve's yearning lips and lay your head back onto his chest again, fluttering your eyelids to keep open as you strained to blink up at eddie. “goin’ dumb on me already, huh?” eddie taunted, pressing closer to you and intensifying his piercing prods at your g-spot as he watched your head clumsily bob with each harsh movement.

seeing as you were growing terribly weak, eddie decided to lean forward and add some more fuel onto the fire. eddie held onto one of your upward-facing calves with one hand, while putting his palm directly above your pelvic bone with the other. your entire body shuddered as he exerted intense pressure onto your bladder, literally stimulating your g-spot from the inside out. you moaned a great deal, not even caring if anyone heard as the sensual thrill of it all was too much for you to keep quiet for much longer. your thighs trembled in steve’s arms, and he tightened his hold on your stuttering limbs as he grinned with joy.

the way that your body was continuously spasming, you decided to simply closed your eyes as you rode out what felt like a full-body orgasm. the sexual energy that emanated from the both of them was a beautiful combination, and you had wished to experience it more often. the chemistry was fucking amazing— the way all three of you were able to bounce off of each other was truly unmatched. your thighs were so fucking numb, and you could barely feel your legs by the time your orgasm literally burst out of you as you squirted without warning all over eddie’s cock. your juices spewed out everywhere, generously landing all over him and decorating his gorgeous torso. “h-holy fuck..” eddie moaned in disbelief at the way your body operated, slamming harder to get an orgasm out of him as quickly as possible.

he fucked you completely stupid while he endured his own impending climax, causing his own thighs to tremble violently as he frantically spasmed into your tantalizing cunt. steve kissed along your thighs, finally releasing his death grip as he murmured soft praises into your ear. you found it difficult to steadily breathe as the warmth of eddie’s cum filled his rubber deep inside of you.

upon sensing eddie slipping himself back out of you, you went limp with a pulsing tummy as an inevitable result. his legs were becoming sensitive to the touch as he gently retreated from the edge of the bed, and he had really begun to feel a little exhausted. in order to immediately dispose of the condom, eddie gently pulled it off and searched the room.

finally freed from steve’s tight grip, you were able to let your legs down and let them gently dangle off the bed, wincing at any sudden movements. you murmured gently as steve fully embraced you as you sank into his lap. he pulled parts of your sweat-soaked curls away from your perspired forehead as his arm wrapped around your torso and he gripped you tightly. “i can’t believe i almost turned this down..” steve chuckled to hisself, which made you drowsily grin as you remembered his outright refusal earlier that evening.

“i can’t believe robin hasn’t broken down the damn door, yet.” you remarked, the both of you giggling quietly at the weird silence coming from the hall. truth be told, you had hoped they had moved on to another game and forgot about the three of y’all. it was going to he humiliating enough trying to explain what the hell happened in that room for more than twenty minutes.

“i can’t believe chrissy doesn’t have a fuckin’ trashcan in here.” eddie complained, looking distraught as he held loosely onto the cum-stained condom that dangled from his fingertips. “i mean— how in the hell am i supposed to explain this shit?”

looking back up at steve, the two of you burst into laughter at the unbelievable situation brought forth upon the three of you. while the outcome was impossible to determine, you made sure to take your sweet time when it came to getting dressed & making yourself look presentable for the onlookers crowded into chrissy’s basement once more. in all honesty, you didn’t owe any of them an explanation as to what happened that night. unspoken agreement existed amongst the three of you that it was unquestionably an unexpected experience that you would all never forget.

[fanfic-scribbles]

Building Bridges, Trying Not to Drown: Filling in the Cracks

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Steve has a bad night. Thankfully, he knows someone well-versed in getting through them.

Quick facts: Friendship – Steve Rogers & Reader –Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Depression, 1st person POV, part 3 of a series (first one can be found here, second can be found here, but there are more warnings for those so please mind the tags)

MCU Timeline: Set some nebulous time after CA:TWS

Words: 2485

A/N: Surprisingly not a lot of warnings for this one, and no tense shifts, yay \o/ Pretty self-contained and self-explanatory so not much to say; I'm not sure if this requires knowledge of the previous parts or if you can just enjoy it as is, but I've included links above just in case. Take care of yourselves, and I’ll hopefully have something a little more light-hearted next month <3

~

Bucky was away on a special mission with Natasha, Sam was off visiting relatives, and I was on the bridge…alone.

That was odd.

Steve had made it a point to be with me just about every night over the past week. It wasn’t as trying or tiring as it might have been normally– I was doing relatively all right, and I could see that he was…not. He was fairly good at putting up a mask, especially when other people were around, but he couldn’t, (or maybe just didn’t), put up a front with me all the time. We sat quietly. He stewed in his own head and deflected questions that hinted at concern.

I thought on that for a little while. I didn’t really like people poking at me too hard when I wasn’t feeling well. It was why I had tolerated Steve so well– he didn’t press too hard, asked a few questions maybe, but otherwise was content to talk about anything at all when I was unresponsive. It was like he just wanted to be present to know I wasn’t going to do anything drastic. And I…I felt very suddenly like I could understand the impulse.

Well. I stood up and dusted my pants. Sitting out here wasn’t helping anything anyway. Was kind of boring, actually. Time to change the view.

~

I knocked on the door of Steve’s and Bucky’s apartment and waited. And waited. And…I frowned. Was he out? I’d thought he said he wasn’t going on assignment. Then again, it wasn’t like he didn’t get called on emergencies, but he always told me if he was going to be busy, even if he was texting while running off.

I knocked again, a little hard and a little fast. If this was karma, it fucking sucked.

“Who is it?” asked a man’s voice, so sharp and short and stern I had to double-check and make sure I wasn’t knocking on the wrong door. It sort of sounded like Steve, but…

“Steve?” I asked uncertainly, even though I had been here before and I knew I was in the right place.

To my relief, he said my name in a normal tone and immediately unlocked the door. His voice was a little rough and rushed, and when he opened the door he looked a mess. Well…more a mess than I was used to. A piece of hair fell in his face and– I hadn’t known he could get eyebags. How long had he not slept?

I resisted the urge to sigh and squared up while he rubbed his face, brushed his hair back, and otherwise tried to pretend he was Fine, Just Fine, Really Truly Fine, Honest. He smiled weakly, but it fell fast, thank goodness. Not so thankfully, it was replaced with a worried crease of his brow. “I meant to tell you I wasn’t going to– God, did I forget to text?” He rubbed his face again. “I’m so sorr–”

“It’s okay,” I said and walked in past him. “We can hang out here.”

“You…might not want to,” he said, dropping some of the act but shutting the door behind me.

It was a little messy, yes, but I’d seen worse. Lived in much worse. However this wasn’t a competition, and Steve was flagging by the second. What to do, though? Tasks– Steve needed something else to focus on. “Do me a favor,” I said as I pulled off my jacket and tried to make a plan. “Do you have coffee or tea?”

“Fresh out of coffee,” he said, with enough regret that I could guess how my ‘how are you sleeping?’ question was going to go over. “But I do have some good tea.”

“Cool. Start boiling some water.” I stopped and quickly added, “Please. Can I…use your bathroom?”

“Of course,” he said, sounding even a bit lighter, though whether that was real or just an act for my benefit was not something I knew how to tell. So while he went to boil some water, I went to the bathroom and took a look around. It wasn’t bad– maybe because it hadn’t been touched much. Steve didn’t smell terrible, but even just looking at his hair I could tell he hadn’t washed lately. So I took down a couple of fresh towels, ran the shower, and used a washcloth and some of the warming water to wipe down the bathroom counter. On second thought, I grabbed a clean washcloth and set it next to the sink.

I stepped out and entered the kitchen to see a slightly amused expression on Steve’s face. “Is your shower broken?” he asked. He lost his attempt at a smile and leaned on the counter. “Are you okay?”

“I’d ask you that, but I don’t think there’s a good answer, is there?” I asked. He swallowed, tried to speak, but after a few attempts just hung his head and shook it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, a little quieter. “I didn’t want to…put anything more on you.”

“I know the feeling,” I said. “But I wouldn’t be here if I thought I would make things worse. So, here’s the plan–wash up, dress in something really comfy, and we’ll sit on the couch with some blankets and just…make it through the night.”

“I’ll be okay,” he said gently, and lifted his head.

“Eventually,” I agreed. “But you don’t have to get through the ‘not okay’ part on your own. If you don’t want to. If you do…”

“No,” he said, quickly enough that I felt reassured this was the right thing. However, he then looked towards the sound of the shower with an expression of dread that was very familiar. Or at least, felt familiar.

“Life hack– you don’t even have to use soap,” I said. “Just stand under the water for a few minutes. And if you really can’t stomach the thought, just wash your face in the sink; maybe take up a washcloth if you want to.”

He nodded, but he looked really just…resigned. Defeated. “Okay,” he said in a small voice I’d never heard from him before, and turned towards the bathroom.

I felt suddenly struck by…not quite fear? He wouldn’t do anything while I was here, I was pretty sure, but it just…it felt so wrong to watch him shuffle along so miserably. I grabbed his shirt before he could go. “Steve,” I said as I tried to collect my thoughts into something coherent. “I’m…I’m not trying to shame you into, or out of, anything. I’m just here. To help.” I lifted my head to look at him. “So I’m here. Until you tell me to fuck off and you mean it. Okay?”

He swallowed very visibly, and gave a little tremble. “I get– I mean, I underst–” He tried for a few more words, crumbling further with every attempt, and his arms moved up and stopped and up and stopped, and then dropped.

I opened my arms. “Come here,” I said, barely getting the second word out before I was being hugged for dear life. I let it go on for a few minutes before I patted his back. “Go on. I’ll take care of the tea,” I said and stepped away to go for the kettle.

He smiled with watering eyes but shuffled away for the bathroom before I could see them fall. I started steeping the tea, and as soon as I heard the bathroom door click shut, I moved to the living room and started picking up.

Obvious trash went in a plastic grocery bag. Clothes got tossed into a pile out of sight. I remembered where the blankets were from when Bucky had gone to get one for me when I was having a bad night and couldn’t be alone, so I went and started feeling over the folded edges of each one. They were all fairly soft, so I picked a few at random, stopped off in their bedroom to get some pillows, and then went to make the couch as nice as I could. It was a large couch, wrap-around, and I set up the longer sitting side for us to rest on. I put the TV on with some quiet nothing nature videos and went back to get the tea. I checked the cupboards and there was food, but I wasn’t sure what Steve could stomach, so I let it be. If I suggested eating, he would want me to eat too, and I wasn’t sure if I could, so I had to leave that battle for later.

It took a few minutes after the water stopped running that he came out, changed into his PJs, with brushed but dry hair. “I couldn’t do the shower,” he admitted. “I put a washcloth under the water and used that instead.”

“Good job,” I said and meant it. When he stopped and made to go for the clothes pile though, I said, “Steve.” He stopped and looked at me. “Is it really bothering you that bad, or can it keep?”

He looked like he gave it some real consideration, but his face went slack and he shrugged. I nodded and patted the seat I had made just for him, with the best pillow and blankets. He took the offer for what it was, came and flumped down, and just sort of…stared at nothing with a blank look on his face. I handed him his cup. “It’s warm,” I said and slanted my body so I could lean on the couch arm, preparing for the next part.

“Does it help?” he asked and took a sip.

I shrugged. “Maybe cumulatively?” I suggested, because I really didn’t know. “Sometimes you just gotta ride it out. Better to be comfy.”

“I guess I can’t argue that,” he said and sipped the tea almost mechanically. Like it was another task off his list. I sipped at mine a few times before I set it on the coffee table and leaned against the couch arm. I used the blanket to protect Steve from my clothes, which were not as comfy. After a few minutes he set his cup down, half of it gone, and sighed. He looked so tired, but he kept blinking his eyes open.

“Hey,” I said. When he turned his head, I opened my arm in invitation.

He gave me a look over. “You don’t have to,” he said.

I tried not to roll my eyes. “I know. I do what I want, in case you haven't noticed.”

A ghost of a smile haunted his lips for a brief moment, and then he moved slowly and carefully to lean against me. He didn’t cuddle so much as just rest heavily, but within minutes he was breathing deeply, his eyes shut, and so I didn’t dare move except to make sure my phone was on silent.

It was. Had been, long enough that I’d gotten a message on the walk over and not noticed.

Bucky: Can I ask a favor?

I tried to be very careful in how I moved as I tapped out a reply.

Me: I’m staying with Steve right now. Me: Related?

It took only a few seconds for a reply. He must have been done with his…whatever he was doing.

Bucky: How is he?

I looked at Steve, whose mouth was slightly parted and showed absolutely no signs of waking. I blinked a few times. I was a little tired too, actually.

Me: Sleeping on my shoulder Me: He washed up Me: I don’t know how to bring up food Me: But I’ll try. Later. Bucky: Thank you

I almost shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. Something about the thanks chafed, so I let it go.

Me: Gonna sleep now Me: Be safe Bucky: Will do

I set my phone aside, pulled up the pillow into my arms, and laid my head against it. Even with the lights and TV, I fell asleep without any issue.

~

When I woke up again, I first noticed some extra weight. I wondered if Steve had shifted, but he was still sleeping in the same position, only now his arms were loosely around me– and resting against him was Bucky. Bucky, meanwhile, was watching Sam and Natasha, who were in blankets on the floor in front of Steve, on their phones, …playing a game?

“God dammit Nat,” Sam said and cursed quietly as he tapped furiously.

“Shouldn’t have left the east wall broken,” Natasha said smugly.

I blinked a few times, noted the early morning hour, and clouds outside besides, and decided I would rather go back to sleep than figure out what the hell this was.

“Now the north wall too,” I heard Bucky comment as I started to drift off.

“Yeah, thanks, hadn’t noticed that with Natasha killing my guards…”

At least Steve was sleeping through all this nonsense.

~

When I woke up again it was because Bucky was waking me for lunch. Steve was already up and occasionally running a hand through his hair while looking vaguely apologetic, but every time he started to open his mouth he received a glare from Natasha, or Sam, or Bucky, so apparently I had missed the most annoying parts.

“Cool; free lunch,” I said as I slid into the open seat next to Steve as everyone else settled in front of their bowls. Pho or something with a rich smelling broth and not too much stuff in my bowl, thank goodness. I looked at Steve. “Other life hack– broth totally counts as food if you can’t handle much.”

“I’m actually pretty hungry,” he admitted and took up his chopsticks.

“That’s good,” I said. I looked at him and what was with that expression? It wasn’t sad, wasn’t down, it was…annoyed? Pouty? I looked at Sam, who shook his head, and I looked at Steve again, until he looked at me. “What’s wrong?”

He blinked. “Uh…nothing. Nothing new, at least,” he said and stared at his soup. “I’m just…embarrassed, I guess.”

“Oh. You’re embarrassed?” I asked and thought about that as I blew on my spoonful of broth. “Should I be embarrassed?”

Bucky snorted, and Sam grinned. Steve’s face went through a few expressions, (one of which was definitely annoyance), before he settled on a wry smile and reached over to gently rub my head. “No,” he said softly.

“Good.” I took a tentative sip. “That sounds like it would be annoying. For everyone.”

Steve rolled his eyes and Sam laughed. Natasha passed me an egg roll and, to be polite, I nibbled on it. It was pretty quiet for the rest of the meal, but not in a bad way. This wasn’t going to fix whatever Steve was going through, but it didn’t have to. He’d pull through and feel better again. Eventually. For now, he was making it through. And that was good enough.

[booksandabeer]

so uhhhh *slides you ten bucks* *twirls hair awkwardly* I hear you're into fics that destroy you, huh? As a fellow Angst Queen, might I maybe ask for... recs? *bats lashes imploring* Pretty please?

Hello fellow Angst Queen...

*takes ten dollar bill* ...so you wanna get wrecked, huh? Destroyed? Utterly ruined? Ok then, step right this way.

I tried to go for varying levels of angst. As a general reminder, since these are all angsty, sad, and/or pretty dark fics: Please, for the love of God, check the tags before you read!

there must have been a moment where we could have said no by magdaliny | M, 155K | Part 1 in quiet americans series

Authors summary: The Soldier remembers this: he wakes up in the snow.

A Bucky recovery story about finding and leaving behind identities, learning to live again, and living well. The first two chapters focus on Bucky's time as the Winter Soldier, so yes, it gets very dark. A beautifully-written, at times hard to read story about the breaking and re-making of a person. And about falling in love.

an unfamiliar coast by brideofquiet | M, 19K | Part 1 in new topography series

Authors summary: He doesn’t have a concept of how long ten years is anywhere. Not even before he’d been yanked out of a natural, linear progression. He’d been six years old once; he’d been sixteen and then he’d been twenty-six. But the breadth of time between those moments—what the hell is ten years?

A long, long time. That’s all he knows. (Bucky goes to war. Ten years later, he comes home.)

A mid-century Shrinkyclinks AU in which Steve never went to war and Bucky escapes from HYDRA in the 1950s. What happens when one of them has tried to move on from grief and loss, and live his life, and the other didn't even have a life for ten years? A beautiful story with an even better sequel!

From Tralfamadore, With Love by newsbypostcard | E, 106K | Part 1 in From Tralfamadore series

Authors summary: In 2018, Steve, Sam, and Bucky embark on a mission to explore a Hydra-owned warehouse when a kid with mutant powers sends Steve 18 years into the future. Steve's just as in love with Bucky as he was when he left, but for Bucky it's been a long 18 years. As he gets used to life in 2036 and the flaws in Bucky's idyllic life expose themselves, Steve also has to manage a suspiciously ubiquitous security force, a Brotherhood of Mutants, and old competing loyalties among his aged friends. There's a Bucky in 2018 waiting for him to come home, but if he does that, it means leaving this Bucky behind for a third, unforgivable time. How can he choose?

The summary is pretty self-explanatory, and I really don't want to reveal anymore than that. Much of the tension and emotional drama in this fic comes from not knowing what's going to happen, and from desperately guessing at how on earth the author is going to solve Steve's impossible dilemma. I loved the way the author explored the relationship of a Steve and a Bucky who have been separated for two seconds and 18 years, respectively. Also, possibly the best use of a Fleetwood Mac song in fanfic ever.

When the Season Comes Around by theheartischill | T, 34K

Authors summary: The other problem is that Steve loves him, and Bucky isn't sure he remembers how to love.

An all-time fave Bucky recovery fic of mine. Featuring a Bucky who saves himself, a perfectly imperfect Steve, and one of the healthiest depictions of a Steve/Bucky relationship I've ever read (not that I don't usually love a little bit of codependency) . There are so many moments and lines in this that will absolutely destroy you. It's sad, and difficult, but also hopeful, and patient with its characters. It's so fucking smart in every way, I honestly don't feel qualified to even talk about this. For me, this is as close to perfection as it gets.

Little Animal Lives by adeepeningdig | T, 25K

Authors summary: In which Bucky Barnes emerges from cryofreeze, gets therapy, buys a house, some chickens and a few horses, and finds himself under the care of a few capable women and one capable girl; and in which Steve Rogers comes home.

The summary almost makes this sound like a semi-fluffy cabin/farm fic. And in a way it is that, but it's also so much more than that. Features beautiful writing (there's a description of love in the story that takes my breath away every time I read or even think about it), wonderful OCs, an extremely well-done second-person POV (please don't let this deter you from reading this fic, I beg you), and a "cure" for Bucky's trigger words that I don't think I've ever seen done or explained in quite that way anywhere else. Tender, heartbreaking, haunting. Go read it.

+1

Ok, and if all of these still aren't angsty enough for you, it's time to bring out the big guns. As in the biggest gun I can think of:

How You Leave by Dreadnought | E, 226K | Major Character Death!

I’ll say it right up front—and this isn’t a spoiler—this is a story about Bucky Barnes dying. And he really does die in it. There’s no last-minute miracle cure here. Be warned and read the tags thoroughly before you decide whether this is for you. In this fic, Bucky escaped HYDRA sometime in the early 90s, joined SHIELD and took up the mantle of Captain America. In 2012, just when Steve is discovered in the ice and returns to his life, Bucky’s serum stops working and his body slowly starts to degrade with only one inevitable outcome. This is a tough read. It’s very much a story about death and the process of dying, about grief and loss. But it’s also about life and what it means to “live a good life.” The author used the tag “learning to live through dying” and that’s exactly it. It’s a story about self-acceptance, reckoning with one’s legacy, re-learning what it means to be truly emotionally vulnerable, reconnecting with the past and at the same time learning to let go of it. And it’s about love. So much love. It’s a very sad story but not a bitter or depressing one. It broke my heart slowly, thoroughly, completely. It’s fucking incredible. I will never read it again.

-------

Happy crying, everyone!

(I might do a part 2 of this at some point?)

[redstarsandnightmares]

-One Rule Above All - just don't be a dick. Don't bring drama onto my page. Don't pressure me aggressively for replies (but do poke me if it's been a while!). Don't be rude in my ask box/inbox/comments. This is all common sense stuff and the fastest way to get blocked. - 21+ preferred, 18+ mandatory. I will not roleplay with ageless or underage blogs. I will block you on sight if you are a minor. Nothing personal, just uncomfortable. -Mental and physical health restrictions mean that sometimes I will need to take a day (or a few) off from responses. I don't always have the energy needed to write. Sometimes I will only take off from big plots and answer asks or smaller threads. Please don't hound me if you see me "active" but I haven't responded to yours yet. I will also usually be open for chatting and plotting even if I don't have the energy for responses! Don't be afraid to shoot me a message. I'll answer if I have the ability to. I always take -one- day a week to spend off of tumblr for adulting/breathing room/to combat burnout. I will usually still be available on discord on those days, though not always. -Even if you have me on Discord. I *DO NOT* do chat-style RPs. They take up too much time and focus and I simply don't have the energy to devote to them. I prefer para-rp even if it is only a paragraph or two. Exceptions will be made from time to time, and you are not required to match my length be it long or short. My length will vary depending on the story, my muse, and the energy I have. -Mun =/= Muse This is a fictional space. Dark content is not supported or endorsed by the mun, it is just interesting to write. Curate your own space. Unfollow or block me, I won't take it personal. This blog is full of triggering and dark content. Pay attention to the tags. I have a list of trigger tags to block if you would like to avoid it on my page specifically.  I *do* reblog and write Trash Party content. It will be tagged under my Hydra content tag if this is a triggering problem for you.  I would still like to write with you! I will make my dash as safe for you as I can, or we can write on Discord if that makes you more comfortable. -I love shipping! It's a ton of fun and I love exploring relationships with my muse. I ship via chemistry. So let me know and we can talk it out!  Please do not assume your muse has a relationship with mine. The only muses I will accept an assumed relationship starter/ask/etc from are Steve and Natasha. And even then I reserve the right to not answer it if it makes me feel uncomfortable. -NSFW - I will write a number of nsfw plots from smut to violence and torture. Yes I will RP *very* dark themes with you. Message me. Depending on how dark, I might suggest we move to Discord to avoid triggering anyone. These posts, however, sometimes take me a day or two to respond to as they take a lot of energy for me to write. I apologize in advance. Reminder that my portrayal of Bucky is *submissive*. That headcanon is so ingrained into this muse that I can almost never write him as anything but submissive. If you are looking for an aggressive dominant Bucky, there are plenty around. I won't take it personally. -Communication is important to me. I would like to at least get to know the other muns I am writing with. We don't have to be besties, but I find chemistry works better if we can talk openly with each other. If you prefer we didn't, that's okay. But I ask for the bare minimum of relevant information to the RP. -No godmodding. I don't mind *minor* things for the flow of the plot, but anything other than that needs to be discussed first.  -My tag dump post is here. Most are self explanatory.  Tagging information can be found here. My Trigger Warning tags will be formatted like "tw ____". They will also have my blanket trigger warning tag if it has any warnings at all in it. 

-I *much* prefer to rp on Tumblr if at all possible. Moving to Discord is on a case by case basis. . I will *selectively * rp in private servers with people. If your plot is excessively triggering or dark, I will likely suggest we move it to a private server or my dark content server.  -This is more a warning than a rule. I do my best work being pulled into someone else's story. I enjoy bringing other people's plots to life. I am not to terribly good at coming up with my own unless something *loud* strikes me. Don't be blindsided if I ask for *your* plots instead of providing my own. 

If you got all the way to the end, THANK YOU. I know this was a lot to read and I appreciate you.

[dodger-chan]

I was tagged by @cchapsticck for WIP Wednesday.

As it happens, I was a little busy Wednesday with a minor dental emergency, the cause and aftermath of which put a bit of a crimp in my writing schedule. The result: the most recent thing I've written is what will likely be the ending/epilogue of Reveal the Yearning Desert. So instead of those spoilers, please accept the beginning of part two (which will hopefully go up some time next week)

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks all striking thirteen couldn’t have made it any weirder.

It had been a shit day in what was turning out not to be his year afterall, and Eddie found himself in no state of mind to walk the fine line between causing pain and causing damage. So he left a note in Harrington’s locker, begging off their planned evening meeting and that should have been the end of it.

But these days Steve confounded Eddie’s expectations as often as he met them.

If he’d thought about it, Eddie would have predicted that fucking Steve Harrington would have brought an end to their occasional casual interactions. That Harrington would ignore him, stare right past him if they passed in the hall. If he’d been in a particularly pessimistic mood, he’d have predicted a certain amount of bullying. Harrington pushing Eddie into lockers as he passed, making his disdain obvious to all.

Eddie would never have guessed Harrington would have the balls to pretend nothing had changed. To ask Eddie for a light when he forgot his own. To laugh and roll his eyes when Eddie’s orations were particularly amusing. To talk down his teammates when one of Eddie’s anti-jock rants riled them up a little too much.

Still, such interactions were hardly direct conversation.

“Munson, hold up a second,” Harrington called, abandoning a scowling Carol Perkins to jog over. Eddie also wouldn’t have predicted Steve choosing the girl’s side in what had been the nastiest breakup to grace the halls of Hawkins High in living memory. Though he had, of course, managed the skillful social dance of remaining at least superficially friendly with Hagan as well.

“The Hair himself, deigning to speak to me?” Harrington smirked and steered them to an almost private stretch of hallway. Fully private now; the loiterers cleared off like they’d been given some signal. “And alone, too. What will everyone think?”

“That I’m buying.” A plausible excuse. Harrington wasn’t his most regular customer, but he did buy pot on occasion. Still paid for it, too, though without the rich asshole tax despite being both. “I got your note. Something came up?”

“Pretty self-explanatory.” It was as much of an explanation as Harrington needed.

“A good something? Or a bad something?” Harrington was trying to look him in the eye. Eddie fixed his gaze on a point over the other boy’s shoulder. “Because if-”

“Maybe I’m just not in the mood,” Eddie interrupted. He glanced quickly up and down the hall; no one was close enough to overhear. “I don’t have the energy. Not tonight, Josephine.”

It was a bit risqué for such a public locale, but it was perfect for getting Harrington to back off. With an eye roll, and a sure, whatever, Munson but Eddie was once again undisturbed in his misery.

[ghost-proofbaby]

question: if i changed how i go about my taglist… how would y’all feel?

to clarify:

option one means people could be bumped off tag lists as i would not do more than 50 tags per fic. my everything taglist has 10+ members right now, meaning i only have about 40 slots, give or take. i also would not do reblog tag lists. example: the taglist for coffee shop blues is currently full, but if someone asked to be on my everything taglist, i would remove the most recently added person who only wanted to be tagged on that specific fic to make the room. (this one just feels plain mean to me 😅😅😅)

option two would mean you’re tagged on ALL writing for that specific topic. everything obviously is tagged on everything, eddie only is tagged only on eddie fics, and steve only is tagged only on steve fics. each taglist would have a limit of 50. this means more spaces as i would do reblog lists (it would be the everything taglist). however, it would mean you can’t opt in for only certain fics, which i know can get annoying. also, i’d have a google questionnaire for this one for everyone to complete if they want to be added. aka if you didn’t fill it out, then you wouldn’t be added! (it’d be anonymous email wise, just having to provide a username obviously to tag)

option three is self explanatory lol 😭

anyways. lemme know.