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#protective!steve
teruel-a-witch · 4 months
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here's Steve holding the nape of Danny's neck/cradling the back of his head when they hug, in a protective and possessive gesture at the same time, for reasons 😏
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thepsychewrites · 2 years
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Little Dove Pt. Two | S. Rogers
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Professor! Steve Rogers x F! Reader
Summary: College wasn’t what you were expecting it to be. You didn’t have many friends, you didn’t party on the weekends, and your homework was always in on time. Things take a turn when your World War II instructor, Professor Rogers, asks you to stay behind one day after class. What will happen when lines get blurred, feelings get hurt, and two people from vastly different life paths fall in love?
> Word Count: 3.8K
> Warnings: 18+ MDNI; Age gap (Steve is in his early thirties, reader is twenty), mild language, smutty thoughts, mutual pining, very light smut: a heated make-out and Steve gets a few hard-ons. 
A/N: OMG GUYS- okay first of all, I want to apologize for the lack of content recently. I have been suffering from a huge writing block for the last few weeks and have not had any motivation to write. This, however, might have been the breakthrough I needed bc I wrote this chapter in like two days which is really fast for me LMAO. Anyway, if you have not read part one it is linked right below, and I would recommend reading it before part two. I really enjoy how this chapter turned out and I am excited to start on part three next :) Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated. Anyway- enjoy my loves <3  
Part One || Main Masterlist
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Tuesday. 
It dragged on, every second becoming an hour, each hour a decade. 
You were close to crying from how slow it passed by. 
Wednesday. 
You woke with a pep in your step, adamant on making it great. It was a bit warmer out today, the changing season giving you whiplash. Some days it seemed like summer was still hanging on, while others felt like autumn was pushing through, ready to take the stage. You rummaged through your closet for a few minutes, finally settling on a muted green and yellow plaid skirt, one that was a bit tighter and hit at the center of your thighs, and a sheer pair of black hose underneath. You paired it with a white cotton long sleeve shirt and your black mary janes. 
The first few classes of your day seemed to last longer than ever, your leg bobbing up and down anxiously as you tried to get through each one. You’ll admit, maybe you were a little too excited to get to your history class, even getting there five minutes earlier than usual. 
And you were always early anyway. 
You silently huffed to yourself as you entered the classroom, noticing right away that Professor Rogers, Steve, wasn’t in yet. 
What you didn’t know, however, was that he was in his office, straightening his charcoal gray tie for the fourth time in the last ten minutes as he watched you take your seat in the back of the class. He had to stave off an impending erection because god fucking damn it you looked breathtaking and there was nothing Steve wanted more than to cancel class just so he could run you into his office and take you right over his desk. He was able to compose himself, though, but never dared to take his eyes off of you. 
You sat down, crossing one leg over the other while you got your notebook and fountain pen out, scribing the day's date at the top of the page before you leaned back to watch the other students filter in. He watched as you twirled a piece of hair between your newly manicured nails, shifting awkwardly as he stood. 
He had to find a way to talk to you again. He had to. 
To say that you were taking over his mind would be a drastic understatement. You were the only thought on his mind for the past few weeks- hell, since the first day of classes if he was being honest. It worried him to an extent- the fact that he couldn’t do anything without thinking of you. What you were doing. What you were wearing. Who you were talking to. If you were thinking about him just as much as he was thinking of you. If you still smelled like that sweet perfume that lingered around the passenger side seat of his car. It was impossible for Steve to think of anything but you. 
He fought the urge to look at you as he opened his office door, knowing that if he did the tent in his pants would keep growing and he couldn’t let the room full of students see his hard-on, especially one caused by another student. 
You, however, couldn’t take your eyes away from Steve as he sauntered to his desk at the front of the class. They were drawn to him like a magnet, never once straying as he cuffed his plain baby blue dress shirt sleeves and began writing sloppy notes on the chalkboard. You couldn’t even garner the strength to copy the information in your notebook, knowing good and well you were already familiar with the content, so why divert your gaze to write it down when you could just keep looking at him. 
The muscles along his back tensed through the tight fabric of his shirt, making your fingers squeeze hard on your pen to keep your composure. He was talking about The Battle of Stalingrad, his hands making soft gestures as he outlined the major events leading up to the battle- but you didn’t internalize a single word he spoke. You were too transfixed on the way his mouth moved, his lips plush and slicked with spit every few minutes when his tongue would dart out and wet them. Or the way his eyes were falling on every student other than you- the fluorescent lights that hung above being reflected in his pupil- a sparkle being mirrored back. 
It was a surprise you weren’t making a pathetic puddle of drool right on your desk as you gawked at him unabashed. You knew a blush sat on your cheeks because of how warm your face had gotten, but thankfully your seat was towards the back of the classroom, so it would be hard to notice from where he lectured in the front. 
You hoped that would be the case, anyway. 
Steve could sense your gaze from his peripheral- the heart beat in his groin threatening to grow stronger every time he nearly faltered and looked right at you. He was trying his best to cover the content quickly, hoping to wrap up the class a few minutes early so he could finally speak to you. 
What was he going to say? He couldn’t outright ask you to dinner or for coffee, could he? No… he needed to be subtle about it. He needed to be careful. 
As much as the thought pained him, he needed to wait until you made the first move. It would be the only way to ensure this feeling was mutual and he wasn’t just being a total creep to one of his students. 
Perhaps divine timing was on Steve’s side, though, because as soon as he wrapped up the lecture he noticed how all of the students gathered their belongings and headed for the door… all of them except for you. 
You were sitting motionless, your eyes glued to his as soon as he allowed himself to finally look at you. 
“How was today's lecture, Y/n?” Steve asked, his legs carrying him closer to you at a snail's pace. 
You only spoke when he was within inches of your desk. “Riveting like always, Sir.” 
Okay, you had to be honest here. The title was a bit much. But you couldn’t help the way it slipped so effortlessly off your tongue and you basked in the way it made his steps stall, only for a moment until he was standing at the edge of your desk. 
The faintest smirk pulled at his lips. “What can I help you with?” The question could have been interpreted differently, the wording and tone chosen for a reason. He was now leaning back against the desk adjacent yours, the veins along his hands and arms protruding as he gripped the edge of it. 
You grinned lightly, your fingers tracing delicate shapes over the empty page of your notebook. “I have an outline and thesis for the paper and I was wondering if you’d be able to take a look at it and tell me if it sounds okay?” 
His eyes diverted as if he had to think about it, finally coming back to yours a handful of seconds later. “Of course. C’mon.” He nodded towards his office, a silent invitation. 
It was an invitation you took with fervor, shoving your things unceremoniously into your book bag as you trailed behind him and into his quiet office. He closed the door as you sat on the same leather chair you were in two days prior, your hands reaching back into your bag to fetch out your paper outline. 
“I hope I’m not delaying any plans of yours.” You commented nervously, that familiar fluttering rising in your stomach as you watched him cross the room to his chair. 
He sat down with a sigh, his thighs constrained by his black slacks and spreading as he got comfortable. Steve shook his head, the slightest breathy laugh coming from him. “Not at all. My night is going to consist of grading that stack of papers right there for my intro classes, so… nothing too exciting.” He said, using the butt of his pen to point out a large stack of papers nestled near his laptop. 
An idea popped into your head, but you waited until he had read through your outline first before you said anything else. 
“This looks great, Y/n. The structure is good and you have all of the important points down- I don’t see it being much of a hassle when it comes time to type your final draft.” He said, holding out the paper for you to take out of his hand. 
Once again you were surrounded by nothing but him, making your brain turn to jelly. Reaching up and holding the paper between your thumb and pointer finger, your voice finally broke through. “Would you want any help grading those papers tonight?” You asked, your lashes fluttering sweetly as you tucked away your outline. 
There was a crease between his brows for only a moment before it disappeared. “Oh, no- I couldn’t ask you to do that…” His voice wasn’t super convincing. 
“Well it’s a good thing you didn’t ask, then. I’m offering, Professor. They'd get graded in half the time.” You pushed, your fingers fiddling with the hemline of your skirt as you nearly begged the man to let you stay in his company. 
Steve stared right at you as he contemplated, his elbows coming to rest on the desk as his left hand scratched across his beard. He knew his answer before you even entered his office. He couldn’t find the willpower to tell you no, especially as you sat there and pushed out your bottom lip just enough for him to notice and just enough to drive him absolutely insane. “Fine. But I’ll only let you help out if you let me drive you home after.” 
Innocent smiles swept over both of your faces. “Sounds like a fair trade off to me.” You replied, sitting up further in your seat so you were closer to the desk, your forearms resting gently on top of it. 
Steve’s eyes fell from you as he reached for the stack of papers, grabbing the top half and setting it in front of you. He opened one of the drawers to his side, grabbing out a stapled packet and placing it next to the other papers. 
“These are quizzes from my 201 class, and this is the answer key.” Steve said, his large pointer finger tapping down on the packet as he slid you a red pen to mark with. “Have at it.” 
You started to nod, eyes flicking up to his only to see he was already staring at you again. His eyes were hooded, a tamed blush sitting at the tops of his cheeks. You focused back down at the papers before your face could grow any warmer, a tinge of pink to match his. 
The two of you sat in silence for over an hour. Steve worked on grading some essays from his senior-level course as you got through the quizzes, marking stray wrong answers every couple of minutes. The quizzes weren’t long by any means- consisting of twenty multiple choice and a few short answer questions- but you found it hard to completely focus when Steve would shift in his chair, his legs spreading and closing, his biceps flexing inside the constraints of his dress shirt each time he moved. You wondered if he was always this antsy, or if it was just your presence that made him anxious. He normally seemed calm during lectures, minus the constant pacing he liked to do. 
What you were too naïve to understand was that Steve wasn’t just antsy. He was struggling to keep his cock from rising any more, the tip of it hot inside his boxers. His balls felt heavy and he could feel a drop of seed leak from his aching head. He was barely skimming the essays, deciding that he could grade them later when he was alone. Instead, all of his attention was on you. How you squirmed in your seat, how your thigh bounced as you tapped your heel against the carpeted floor, how your bottom lip kept getting bit down on- reddening the tender skin. He knew you were stealing glances at him too, his heart thumping harder each time your pupils dilated when they ghosted over him. The urge to pull you out of your chair and into his lap was growing exponentially with each second that passed. God. What were you doing to him? Why was he feeling so out of control? He shouldn’t feel like this about one of his students, especially not you. You were so kind and innocent. So pure and sweet, just like a little dove. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but trying to shake this feeling away would be onerous. 
Would it be so bad to just give in? 
It was only five minutes later when you spoke, securing the cap back on the pen and straightening the fresh stack of graded quizzes. “Eighty nine.” You said in a near whisper. 
Steve’s brows furrowed together as your voice tore him from his thoughts. “Hmm?” 
You grinned. There was that sickly sweet smile of yours again. “The average grade for the quizzes… it’s eighty nine.” 
He was dumbfounded, slowly setting down the essay he had in his hand, laying it down with the rest of them in a separate pile while he looked at you questioningly. He would’ve believed you did the math in your head, all until your grin melted into a smirk, your hand moving down to your lap as you picked up your phone to show him the calculation on your screen. 
“I may be a nerd, Professor, but I am no genius.” You quipped, turning your phone off and setting it back against your thighs. 
Steve didn’t move, he simply kept watching you. “You’re really somethin’ else, you know that?”
He gave in. 
How could he not? 
How could he promise himself to keep a safe distance from you when you sat there and looked at him like he put the damn stars in the sky? 
“So I’ve been told.” 
Steve knew that comment was aimed at him, a reminder of how he gushed over you, in front of you, only two days prior. He wished he could keep you here longer, racking his head to think of something else you can grade so he could keep looking at you like he was minutes ago. When nothing came to mind he sighed, pushing his chair away from the desk and stood. “I appreciate all of your help today. Definitely saved me from a long night here.” He paused, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack in the corner and tossing it on, pulling his leather satchel up his shoulder after and digging his keys out. “C’mon, let’s get you home.” 
He waited at the door as you swung your book bag on your back, switching off the light and locking it after the both of you were out. You stalled so he could catch up, the two of you finally walking in tandem as you exited the history department building. The fluttering in your stomach was familiar, as it was the same one you felt on Monday when you walked this same path with the same man on your right. It seemed as though the rest of the faculty had already gone home for the evening as the hallways were bare, the two of you quietly making your way down to the front entrance. 
The sun was just starting to set, the sky full of deep oranges and pinks. As you reached Steve’s car he once again held the door open for you, taking your book bag from your hands and tossing it in the back seat. You fastened your seatbelt, watching him from the corner of your eye as he got behind the wheel. His car smelled just like him- so much so that you hoped some of it would attach to your clothes so you could be reminded of him throughout the night. You shifted slightly, tugging against the seatbelt as he dug his keys into the ignition, starting up the car. A soft and slow jazz song floated from the radio, the melodic trumpets and piano tunes filling the air. 
Nothing was said between the two of you as he put the car into drive and turned onto the main road, driving slightly below the speed limit all the way to your residence hall. When you arrived, he pulled into one of the empty parking spaces near the front, pushing the car into park. 
You were the one to break the silence. “Thank you for driving me here… again.” You giggled softly, gathering enough courage to look at Steve. A few measly inches separated the two of you, and you could finally get a really good look at him. The hair on his head and along his jaw had the slightest copper tint, which was even more pronounced as the setting sun shone upon it. His eyes were so alluring, the most tantalizing shade of blue to ever exist reflecting back as his gaze roamed your face. A crease forever sat between his brows, etching his emotions right on his skin. You wanted to trace a finger down his nose, the littlest dent formed on the bridge and the length of it crooked to one side, though one could hardly notice unless you were this close. And his lips… those you could stare at for days. They were so pouty and full, so red and just begging to be on yours. 
There was a pause, and you could see the breath get caught in Steve’s chest. Something was on his mind, something other than a “you’re welcome”. His focus was entirely on you, and his body leaned closer. 
“Tell me no.” Steve mumbled, a sense of urgency in his voice, his eyes pleading. “For the love of god- tell me no and I won’t. You’ll get out, I’ll leave, and we can pretend like this never happened.” His hand lifted from his lap, reaching up and tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“Steve…” You tried to speak but he was quick to cut you off. 
“I have to hear you say no. You have to tell me that I can’t do what I’ve wanted to do for weeks. You have to.” His hand stayed on the edge of your face, his thumb roaming in circles against your jaw. 
You were breathing harder now, your mouth cracked open to allow for more airflow. Your chest constructed, your head growing foggy. All that mattered in this moment was Steve and the carnal desire to become wholly his. 
Your head shook. “But… but what if I want you to? What if I want you to kiss me, Steve?” 
There was hardly any time between when his name was uttered until his lips were on yours, crushing into you with a low growl and intense eagerness. His fingers trailed down your side until they were snug against your hip, digging into your fabric covered flesh and hoisting you over the center console until you landed clumsily on his lap. His legs were open slightly, allowing you enough room to sit between his thighs comfortably. 
Steve’s mouth was hot and wet, his tongue pushing and wrapping over yours. He greedily took everything you gave him, groaning against your swollen, strawberry chapstick covered lips. Steve did nothing to stop his erection now, the throbbing bulge rubbing against the inside of your thigh with each rock of your hips. Both of his large hands were secured right under your ass, caressing and squeezing as he pleased while yours were tucked away in his hair, holding him close despite him not having anywhere else to go. The gentle jazz music seemed to fade into thin air as his lips kept meeting yours, pulling and biting and sucking and feeling with abandon and he was fueled by the shallow whimpers that would flow from your mouth right into his. He reluctantly pulled away when he felt your shaky hand ghost over his restrained cock, a deep moan getting lost in his throat. 
“Be careful, little dove. Don’t start something you can’t finish.” Steve said in a hoarse whisper, his right hand sliding up your side until it reached the back of your head, pushing you to rest your forehead against his. Quick, hot breaths molded together, the two of you looking absolutely blissed out. “Are you okay?” He questioned, his tongue darting out to slowly lick his lips as his eyes examined you. 
Your head slowly bobbed up and down in a nod, your nose bumping over his. “Yeah… I’m okay.” Was all you could get out. You swallowed thickly, the spit in your throat a mixture of his and yours. “I think I should go now.” 
Steve started to nod, but when he saw your hand reach for the door handle he paused, wrapping his fingers around your wrist to stop you. “Wait-” He said, his grip firm, but light. “You can’t tell anyone about this, do you understand? Even if this,” he emphasized, “never happens again… nobody can know. I could lose my job and you could be expelled.” 
“I wasn’t planning on it, Steve. Nobody will know.” You held out your pinky between your chests. “I promise.” 
His worried pout had turned up into a sly grin at your antics. His pinky wrapped around yours. An agreement. A promise. 
As your pinkies broke away Steve stole a final peck to your lips before lifting you back over into the passenger side seat. You sat with a soft huff and a breathy laugh as he got out of the car to open your door for you. He was quick to grab your book bag from the backseat, helping you slide it on your shoulders. 
“Do you have any plans for Friday night?” Steve spoke, his voice still low. 
“Nope. Why?” 
“What do you say to dinner at mine? I can come pick you up at about seven, if that would work.” His expression returned to worry, not sure if he was already overstepping boundaries or not. 
Who was he kidding? He overstepped boundaries as soon as his lips touched yours. 
You hummed, faux contemplating his offer. “Are you asking me on a date, Sir?” Involuntary, you bit down on your bottom lip, rolling it between your teeth. 
You were gonna be the death of him, he swore it. Steve lowered his head with a groan, eliciting a laugh from you. “Not sure if chicken fettuccine alfredo and a movie is a good date… but it’s the best I can give you for now.” 
The warmth on your face grew tenfold. 
For now. 
“It sounds perfect.” You reassured, taking a short step away from him towards your residence hall. “I’ll see you on Friday, Steve. Good night.” 
Friday couldn’t come any sooner. 
“Good night, little dove.”
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tissueoflies · 1 year
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WHUMPTOBER 2022
No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE
Ransom Video | “I’ve got a pulse” | Screams from Across the Hall
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Town of Glass and Ice
Pairing: homeless!female!reader x Steve Rogers
Desc: in a desperate attempt to gain some cash, you find yourself at the hands of a violent gang who are ready to teach you a lesson. All seems lost. That is, until a protective stranger shows up.
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“An act of kindness,
Is what you showed to me.
It caught me by surprise,
In this town of glass and ice.”
You had been on your usual rounds of the fleapit. The fleapit was an elaborate complex of murky alleys and interweaving tunnels, which grew darker and darker the deeper you went. There were metal walkways that jutted out overhead where people would occasionally be seen swinging down, usually with a cigarette popped between their teeth and a wad of cash tucked inside their belt. It was your job to notice these things and take your pick.
Today you’d noticed a band of greasy newcomers who seemed to be dripping with cash. You’d taken chase and stalked through the crowd, following them through a pocket in the wall. That was your mistake.
A hand seizes your collar and hurls you against the wall. You don’t even have time to cry out in pain before one of the group is bearing down over you, teeth bared savagely. He rips off your hood and twists your shoulder, to which you let out a sharp gasp.
“Thought you would try to steal from us, retch?” he sneers. His eyes slid off your features, taking in every intricate detail.
Before he can touch your face, you slam into him head on, then duck as he tries to seize you around the waist. You lunge for the alley, desperately hoping you can melt back into the crowd, but another one of the group- a woman this time- swings right beneath you, sending you crashing down to the ground. After that you are grabbed by the legs and hoisted up, thrashing madly in desperation.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” the man says. He wipes his nose, which has begun to leak blood. “Hold her still,” he orders, as a broad man curls his fingers around both your shoulders. A brunette summons a knife and holds it out to him. “Nah,” he says, shrugging her off. “This requires a bit of hands-on punishment.” Then the man whirls and clocks you square in the jaw.
“Please, I wasn’t going to—” you beg, though you know it will mean nothing.
Another swift delivery that sends you reeling. “That’s for being a shit liar. I’ll take that knife now,” the man says, gesturing to the woman. “Now the question is: how deep do I go? Should I give you a nice little scar? Or do I take out an eye?” As he speaks, he hovers the edge of the knife over your cheek, and you recoil, trying your hardest not to breathe.
“Cut off a hand. See if she’ll still have sticky fingers after that.”
The man ponders this, then looks down on you with a delirious grin. “What a good idea.”
He snatches your wrist, and you try to shout, but too late: the man’s hand is already closed around your mouth. You release muffled cries, shaking your head as your eyes burn with fear. “Do a better job at holding her still, would you?” he barks. “I want to make a nice clean cut.”
The man turns over your wrist and snickers. He poises your arm, and the cool surface of the knife meets your skin. You bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut. Some part of you just wishes he would get it over with. Soon you feel the warm gush of your own blood rolling down your arm.
“Stop.”
“I’m sorry?” He drops your arm and turns to the stranger who stands behind him, glaring daggers, but the stranger doesn’t wither. “Move along, chum. This don’t concern you.”
“Don’t call me your chum.”
“Oh, you got a problem with that?” Your attacker shortens the distance between them and smiles up at him, showing crooked gold teeth. “Who died and made you king?”
“I’m not anyone’s king,” the stranger says. His eyes float upstairs to you, and he requests that you shut your eyes. You do as he says. “I’m your captain.”
Your cheeks bathe in pools of sunlight: a mellow, comforting glow that smooths over your skin, filling you with warmth from the inside out. You release a small yawn and arch your back, extending your arms over your head. You don’t remember falling unconscious, but you must have, because you don’t hear the sounds of a scuffle.
You aren’t lured awake by the warmth of a flaming sun, but rather the sudden chill of a dark shadow sweeping over your body. Your eyes snap open. You see a figure and without thinking, your arms lock around his neck. He tries to speak, and you tug tighter despite your trembling. The figure doesn’t struggle, but you feel the immediate rise in his pulse.
“Please – Don’t panic – There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he breaths.
You are panting heavily, the rise and fall of your chest like an accelerating drum beat.
“You’re safe – I promise I won’t hurt you.”
“Where am I?” you ask.
“You’re in shock – Just calm down and I’ll explain, I promise.”
What do you do now? You stare into his deep blue eyes, their focus never broken from your own, and see something genuine. Slowly, you release him and push away, cramming your hands to your ears as you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Are you okay?” the man asks softly. “Sorry,” he says quickly, when you pull away from him. “Do you remember what happened?”
You nod your head. “I was attacked. And then you…” What exactly had he done? You glance around and realise the ragtag group is nowhere in sight.
“I dealt with them,” the man says calmly. “Don’t worry. I didn’t hurt them too badly- well, not so bad that they had to be taken away in an ambulance rather than a cop car.”
“I… don’t understand. You said you were a captain.”
Despite everything, he excuses a shy smile. “Yes, of sorts. Some people like to call me Captain America. Sorry, that might have sounded a bit dramatic.”
“Captain America?” you repeat, astounded.
“Sure, but I prefer Steve.”
“You’re… Really? The Captain America?”
“Thought I’d be bigger?” he asks with another one of his reassuring smiles.
“No. It’s just… Wow.” You shake your head, flustered. You find your cheeks warming. “Thank you,” you finally say.
“It’s the least I could have done.” He offers to take your hand, which you accept as he guides you onto your feet. “Do you know what they wanted from you?” Now the smile is gone, replaced with something serious.
“I…” Are you ready to admit you were caught stealing in front of Captain America? Steve? But he just saved your life. The best thing you can do is be honest. “I wanted to see if they had any money,” you admit. “I was… planning on stealing from them.” You bow your head in shame, expecting him to be upset with you. And yet his eyes soften.
He plants a hand on your shoulder, and you glance up at him.
“Do you have a home?” he asks compassionately.
“No.” You feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes.
“Would you like to come home with me?”
You tell him yes.
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themculibrary · 1 year
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Protective!Steve Masterlist
and you needed someone to show you the way (ao3) - SailorChibi bucky/steve/tony, clint/phil/natasha T, 24k
Summary: Tony knows what the team really thinks of him. It's a delicate balance: they tolerate him because of his money and his toys, and he gets to stay on the team and fight with them. He's okay with that. So long as he hides the fact that Steve's and Bucky's names are written on his skin in the most embarrassing act of one-sided love affection ever, everything will be fine.
It just figures that a fantastically stupid villain, a kidnapping plot and a video camera will bring Tony's well-kept secret out into the open.
Born For This (ao3) - Capsicle2013 steve/tony M, 71k
Summary: Being an Avenger was something he always wanted, but for some reason his parents didn’t want that for him. He just wishes they could see what he sees.
Gone (ao3) - nonna T, 57k
Summary: In the final fight scene of Captain America Civil War, Tony's helmet breaks off the armour after the relentless clashing it receives.
What if the harsh hits to his head create serious complications for Tony, and he loses his sight?
hold the things you wanna say (ao3) - SailorChibi steve/tony T, 6k
Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay.
He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really.
What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always.
This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.
It Takes a Village (or a team of superheroes) (ao3) - aven_garde steve/tony, clint/phil T, 33k
Summary: Three months after the Chitauri attack, Tony received a phone call that changed his life. (Or, the one in which a group of remarkable people come together and balance battling villains and raising a child).
It Wasn’t Enough (ao3) - RiverRayne steve/tony T, 4k
Summary: It started out just like any other day, and ended being the worst day of his life.
Love Is A Battlefield (ao3) - crumbcrash2000 steve/tony, tony/tiberius E, 53k
Summary: In Siberia, Steve looks on in horror as Tony watches the video of his parents' murder. Expecting the worst, he is prepared to fight to defend Bucky, even through the shock of his own betrayal.
But Tony doesn't lash out.
Instead, Tony cries, and Steve's whole life falls apart.
Minefields (ao3) - arianapeterson19 pepper/tony, bucky/steve/tony T, 34k
Summary: Being in an abusive relationship was a bit like needing glasses. He didn't realize it until the damage was done.
Funny how people assume only men can be abusive.
my hero (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor steve/bucky T, 2k
Summary: Bucky Barnes has been friends with Steve Rogers for as long as he can remember, and later, his boyfriend. Their relationship never changed even with Steve as Captain America. Bucky simply got used to his boyfriend being a superhero. He knew there were risks being Captain America's boyfriend, but he honestly never thought he'd find himself kidnapped.
new life (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor steve/bucky G, 3k
Summary: Omega Steve meets Alpha Bucky through a nanny gig. Steve was expecting this to be just another gig, nothing more and nothing less. He never expected to bond with the alpha's children, or become part of the alpha's life permanently.
Not as Perfect as We Used to Be (ao3) - Winchestergirl83 steve/tony T, 26k
Summary: Steve and Tony began to date two months after the events the Avengers. They got married two years after that. They had their first child that same year and six years later they were able to have their second child. The year is now 2023 and Steve and Tony felt they had as close to a perfect life as two of the worlds most important superheroes could have, but things don’t always remain perfect.
Peter’s Field Trip To Stark Tower (ao3) - ScxrletWidowXx G, 4k
Summary: Peter Parker’s class is going on a school trip! Can you guess where?
— Basically, the Avengers are embarrassing Peter and being overprotective because of Flash.
peter’s stars (ao3) - IronPengu, parkrstark steve/tony T, 175k
Summary: Steve and Peter lose their apartment and are kicked out on the streets. Steve has to juggle between jobs to earn whatever money he can, take care of his son while resfusing to let him realize how much they’re trouble in, and keep them warm and safe on the city streets in winter.
So, he really doesn’t have time to date the billionaire that flirts with him everyday as he buys his cup of coffee. Even if he did, he can’t let himself fall for the man. Because if he knew that he lived from a backpack and showered in a public bathroom there’s no way he’d still want him…right?
Pieces of Echoes (ao3) - geekymoviemom steve/tony T, 334k
Summary: When weapons designer and SHIELD consultant Tony Stark and his son are kidnapped following a routine weapons demonstration, newly defrosted World War II hero Steve Rogers is sent to find them.
But what begins as just another mission, a way for Captain America to reintegrate back into society, quickly warps into something more as betrayals are discovered, harsh, long-buried truths are finally brought to light, and Tony and Steve come to realise that their biggest allies are each other.
shh, don't tell (ao3) - shatteredhourglass bucky/clint E, 8k
Summary: “You’re married, Clint?”
“Oh,” Clint says, looks down at the silver band on his ring finger. He rubs at it with his thumb idly, sees a glimmer of purple from the inner part. It makes him realize that Steve doesn’t see him without his gloves on that often. “Yeah."
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wynnyfryd · 7 months
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Steve’s drunk and sad at a party and doom-swiping through Tinder when he comes across this profile:
Eddie, 21
guitarist, dm, dipshit, six time ass eating world champ 💪 🌎 my friends call me Eds, but you can call me Daddy
“What the fuck?” Steve laughs to himself. First time he’s really laughed all night, actually; this party kinda blows.
He slinks down further into the couch, takes another sip of hunch punch and tilts his phone so no one sees him swiping right on this shit. It’s obnoxious. Like, objectively. He’s just…
Bored.
And curious. Surely that bio has never actually worked for the guy, right?
Steve swipes.
It’s a match.
He snorts to himself again, sends a message before he can overthink it.
Steve: Hey, Eds. That’s kind of a bold move, isn’t it?
Message sent, he goes to back out of the app; doesn’t really expect an answer this close to midnight on a Saturday night — only losers use Tinder at this time of night, and what the fuck does that make him? — but then Eddie starts typing.
Eddie: hey, cutie :) what is?
Steve: Uhh…
Jesus. Why is he blushing? He’s not the one who wrote a wildly aggressive hookup bio. Guy might as well have sharpied DTF on his forehead.
Steve: Your bio? 🫣
Eddie: huh?
Eddie: i mean, dnd can get a little spicy on occasion but i’d hardly call it scandalous
Steve: What’s that?
Is it a sex thing? It’s probably a sex thing.
Eddie: okay, what?
Steve: What? I’m so confused lol
Eddie must be, too, because it takes him a few seconds to answer, and when he does he just says:
Eddie: hold pls
Steve holds. Takes a big gulp of his drink and winces; pretty much all vodka at the bottom.
Eddie is typing and then he isn’t, then he is again and then he’s not, and Steve frowns at his empty cup and wonders if he’s already fucked up the one interesting thing that’s happened to him all night.
Finally, finally, a new message pops up.
Eddie: ………god. DAMN it, Gareth 😤😤😤😤
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hairmetal666 · 2 months
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Steve knows he falls in love too easily. Nancy told him, Robin too.
But falling in love with Eddie Munson is hard.
They're supposed to be friends after Vecna. They're supposed to be friends, but Steve can't get past what Eddie did in the Upside Down; how he put himself in a position to nearly die, how Dustin got hurt. It's not fair. He knows it's not, but it doesn't make the anger go away.
Eddie's part of the group now, though, and Steve won't leave him out, no matter how angry. They're all at movie nights, at pool parties, at Hellfire, at Corroded Coffin gigs. It's just that Steve and Eddie don't speak. And Steve is okay with it. If it's what it takes to make sure that they're all hanging out together, not talking to Eddie is a small thing. He's pretty sure Eddie doesn't mind. At least, he seems as uninterested in hanging out with Steve as Steve is with him.
It doesn't need to be anything more than that, and it isn't, not until Steve goes upstairs to get more sunscreen during one of the pool parties, and walks back downstairs to find Munson waiting for him in his kitchen.
"You need something?" He asks, unable to fully hide the way he jolts with surprise.
Eddie twists the rings on his fingers, something Steve's noticed he does whenever he's nervous. "You have a problem with me, Harrington?
"No, of course not," he answers too fast.
"C'mon, man. You can barely stand to be in the same room with me."
"That's not true! We're in one together right now."
Eddie rolls his eyes so hard that it has to hurt. "Don't do that. Don't pretend like you don't know what I mean. You can't stand to be alone with me for more than thirty seconds."
Steve splutters, searching for a plausible reason.
"Is it cause--" Eddie swallows, hand going back to cup his neck. "Is it cause you heard me tell Robin that I'm gay? Back at the hospital. Is it because--" he cuts himself off.
Something in Steve's chest clenches hard, warmth swooping dangerously in his stomach. "No," Steve says, means it. "I didn't hear. I didn't-- it has nothing to do with that. It's--that's cool. Thanks for--yeah, that's cool."
Eddie's smile is a brittle little thing. "Then, what else?" Eddie pulls a chunk of hair over his mouth. "I can't think of any other reason you'd hate me so much."
"I don't." And Steve hopes it's coming off as genuine. "I promise."
He can't help remember the camaraderie, the understanding, that started to grow between them in the Upside Down. The "don't cha, big boy?" of it all. They could be friends. They should be.
They shouldn't get into it. Not right here, not right now when the kids' splashes and excited screams filter through the sliding door.
"You're a shit liar, Harrington."
"Ed--I'm not--"
"You know what? Don't bother. I'll just--" He jolts in the direction of the front door.
"Don't be stupid, Munson."
"God, I can't believe I didn't see it before. You just fucking loathe me."
"I do not. Grow up."
"Oh, yeah? Then what's your problem?"
"There isn't--"
"Stop lying!"
"You didn't fucking think!" He shouts. Loud enough that the noise outside cuts off. "You pulled that shit in the Upside Down and you almost died! Dustin got hurt!"
Eddie blinks his big brown eyes in stunned surprise.
"I told you, I said, 'dont try to be cute or be a hero or something.' And you know what you said? Do you?"
Eddie won't look at him now. "I had to make a choice, Steve."
"It was the wrong one!"
"I would do it all again. No matter what you say. I would do it to draw the bats away. To protect Dustin."
"But you didn't."
"There was no other way to stop them, Steve! They would've gotten through, into Hawkins."
"It doesn't matter."
"You weren't there! You can't tell me--"
"Yes, I can! I know."
"You don't! You think--"
"I almost lost you!" He screams. "You nearly died in my arms, Eddie. And for what?"
Falling in love with Eddie wasn't easy. It was blood and near death; it was weeks in a cold hospital room while Eddie existed in a drug-induced twilight state; it was agonizing convalescence and physical therapy and changing bandages; it was Eddie leading dnd sessions with bright eyes and contagious enthusiasm, herding the kids to the arcade and video store, theatrically serving snacks at movie night; it was festering, senseless anger at the near loss of something.
Eddie's lips tremble. "Steve, I--"
"It doesn't matter." He turns away to slide a hand down his face in an effort to wipe away the emotion. "You're fine and we're--it doesn't matter."
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Steve, I'm sorry. I wanted--I thought it would help. I thought--"
And Steve has to admit, he does, the whole terrible contradiction of it all. "I know," he whispers back. "I would've--I know."
"I thought I was protecting Dustin. I thought I was buying you guys time with Vecna." Eddie's voice breaks. "I didn't--I--" He squeezes his eyes shut.
In the quiet of the kitchen, they gravitate to one another, foreheads resting together.
"I should have been there, Ed. I shouldn't have left you two alone. You almost died, and I--"
"Sweetheart, I'm right here. We're right here."
They don't kiss, but they're close enough that their mouths brush with each breath they take.
"Don't do that, again." Steve clenches his fists into Eddie's cutoff t-shirt. "Promise you won't ever--"
"I promise, Stevie. I promise. I'll be by your side until the very end, whatever it is."
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veltana · 5 months
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No one as sweet as you - Mafia!Stucky/Reader
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✦ Pairing: Stucky/Reader ✦ Word count: ~9,4k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Mafia AU, best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, protective!stucky, TW: reader is verbally and physically abused by john walker, idiots in love, sharing a bed, poly relationship, piv sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, praise kink, pet names (Sweets), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: When you’re hurt by your boyfriend you go to the two people you can depend on for anything, Steve and Bucky, your best friends. ✦ Note: This is a fic that was previously posted on AO3, at the beginning of the year. But since I'm stuck in writer's block right now I thought I would post this in case you haven't read it. It's one of my favorites. There are some short prequel fics to this also posted on AO3, about when they were living together in college. I'll post those too in the following weeks.
Series masterlist
Masterlist | AO3
The bouncer gives you one glance before he opens the door for you and the line of people you pass shout angrily but you don’t even spare them a glance, your thoughts elsewhere. The music in the club usually invigorates you but tonight it passes through without leaving a trace.
Making your way to Monica at the bar, the people you pass shoot you weird glances and you know you must look a mess. When she sees you she comes right over, the music is too loud to talk so you share a squeeze of the forearm in place of a hug before she pours you your favorite wine, with a pitying smile at your smeared mascara. You throw a kiss at her before making your way to the back and once again the big man at the door opens it for you after a quick look.
The music is muted as you make your way to the stairs at the back that take you up to their private room. When your heels land at the top and you meet Bucky's eyes he lifts the girl currently on his lap off and declares "Everyone out."
Steve shoots him an irritated look before his eyes follow Bucky's and sees you. You stand perfectly still while the women and men who were enjoying a private party with two of the biggest mobsters in New York mill past you down the stairs, some even shoot you dirty looks.
When the last person has passed, you take a step towards them, but before you're two steps in, Bucky has taken the glass from your hand and Steve has lifted you into his arms. You cling to him, hands grasping his shirts, and finally, you know you’re safe.
Steve sits down with you in his lap, cradling your head to lean it against him, the other arm holding you tight at your waist. Bucky's palms are gentle when he rubs your back soothingly. None of them say anything at first but the tears running down your face speak for themselves. You made it all the way without breaking down but with them, you can be vulnerable. For the last seven years, they’ve been the rock, the shelter, and your haven.
"Talk to us, Sweets," Bucky's voice is only that soft with you, maybe sometimes with Steve too, “What’s going on?” You try to take a deep breath, but it just stutters. After a few more tries it’s better but you’re not sure where to begin. They give you time, and don't press you on information, like they otherwise do in their line of work.
Finally, you release Steve's shirt and instead, you find the hand he has wrapped around your waist, twisting the rings on his fingers as you try to speak. You don't want to look at them, the shame and the anxiety is running high in your body but you want to tell them, you just have to find the right words.
"You know the guy I've been seeing," you start and feel Steve's arms tighten around you. Before you can say more Bucky mutters "I'm gonna kill him." Steve is calmer and asks, "What about John, Sweets?" He speaks into your hair, his voice is gentle but it has a hard edge. "He's been so sweet since we started going out, but he's been having a rough time at work lately," you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to remember, your heart beating like crazy. The memories bring forth the panic and the fear again and your breath gets shallow.
"It's alright Sweets, you're here with us, nothing can hurt you," Bucky's low voice is comforting, together with their touch, and you know he’s telling you the truth. It’s the reason you came here instead of going home.
You take a few more breaths and continue "So I thought I'd do something nice for him. We had a spa day and while he soaked in the tub I made dinner and dressed up for him." Frowning hard, your fingers spin the rings on Steve's hand faster and faster the more your anxiety builds, knowing what’s coming.
"And everything was great until I poured the wine and spilled some on the tablecloth." Your mouth opens and closes a few times and the tears start to fall again but Bucky is there with his thumbs, cradling your face and brushing them away, while Steve rocks you gently in his embrace.
"He was furious," you cry. "Said I ruined everything! He threw the wine in my face, then the bottle across the room. He tried to grab me but I ran out of there." There is a long silence when you finish, it’s just your sobs and the music from the other side of the wall. Then Steve says "I'm gonna fucking kill him," his voice laced with rage, and he hugs you even closer.
"I took a cab here, I didn’t know where else to go, I didn’t wanna go home." With the last words out you feel a small relief. You’ve told them. You’ve told someone. The scene still plays in your head, seeing John's eyes turn black with rage when the drops of rosé landed on the white linen, feeling the fear when he started screaming.
"Thank you for telling us, Sweets. You’re an incredible person," Steve says and moves you out of his lap and over to Bucky's. They treat you with the utmost care, moving slowly, giving you time to protest if you want, or detangle yourself if that's what you desire. But you let them manipulate your body how they like because sometimes they know what you need more than you do.
"You did nothing wrong," he goes on to say, holding onto your hands, letting his thumbs caress the skin. "John is an absolute fucking asshole and no one should be treated like that.” You meet his green-blue eyes that are only soft for you, and Bucky. Right now, Steve isn’t the feared mobster that people avert their eyes from when he enters a room, scared they’re going to end up in a ditch because they looked at him wrong. No, this Steve is your best friend.
"I don't want to be scared, and I don't want to go home in case he comes there," you confess. "You'll stay with us," Bucky decides, voice finite. "Let’s go home so you can take a shower and change clothes." You nod and are about to stand up but Bucky is quicker, changing his grip and holding you close as he gets up. He carries you to the car and doesn't let go of you until you're in their mansion, in the room you have there.
When he puts you down your feet are a little unsteady and they both look at you with concern, but you give them a weak smile “It’s okay.” "We'll be right outside, shout if you need anything," Steve tells you and when you nod they both step out and close the door softly behind them.
For a moment you stand still, trying to make sense of the last hours, wondering how everything went to shit. Then you finally get a good look at yourself in the tall mirror and see the black rivulets of mascara and eyeliner smudged down your cheeks, the foundation almost gone.
The dress is ruined by the wine and even if it was expensive and you can get it dry cleaned you don’t want it anymore. You pull it off and throw it into the trash can, quickly followed by the heels. The lingerie is one of your favorite sets but you're unsure if you will ever be able to enjoy it again without remembering how you chose it especially for John. After a moment it goes into the trash, and the earrings too, feeling like you need everything from the night to be gone.
The only thing you keep on your body is the necklace that was a gift from Bucky and Steve years ago and you haven’t taken it off since. It's custom-made with three delicate chains in gold, silver, and black twisted together. You loved it the moment you saw it, knowing that the chains were the three of you, twisted together through the rest of your lives. When you touch it with your fingers it makes you feel better, because you can feel them with you.
The shower feels more than just bodily cleansing and when you remove the last pieces of your smeared makeup, smoothing eye cream over your puffy eyes, the feeling of fear and panic is distant.
In the closet are a bunch of your clothes, probably more than you like to admit, but the best part is the drawer with their old t-shirts. You pull one out, not sure which of them it used to belong to, but it’s worn and soft against your skin. For a moment you press it against your nose, breathing in the detergent that reminds you of this place and all the wonderful memories that you have with them, before you find your pajama pants.
Out in your room you sit on the bed and look around at the muted colors. Bucky and Steve insisted that the room was yours, not just a guest room, and it makes you smile a little when you think about how much fun you had decorating it.
After taking a deep breath you open the door and find them just a few steps away. The look in Bucky's eyes is murderous and Steve's fists are clenched by his side, but when they turn to you they go back to being your best friends that you met in college all those years ago. "How are you feeling?" Bucky steps up to you and pulls you into a soft hug, tucking your head underneath his chin as you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in the smell of him. Steve comes up behind you, placing his palms on your shoulders, rubbing the muscles carefully. "Better now," you answer. "But I never had dinner so I'm a bit hungry."
Bucky pulls away from you, cradling your face, tilting it up until you're looking right into his light blue eyes. "Let's go raid the kitchen," he smiles and holds your gaze for a few seconds more and there is so much love in those eyes it's almost scary. You know he would burn down the city if it made you happy, they both would, and that intensity is one of the many things that have kept you from finding out what it would be like to be theirs. You're not sure you'd be able to handle it.
When Bucky lets go of you, Steve's arm goes around your waist and he pulls you into him, Bucky takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, and you walk to the kitchen. You sit down at the kitchen island while they open the fridge.
"The chef made mac'n’cheese," Steve says and pulls out an oven pan, covered in tin foil with a post-it note on top with instructions for heating it. Bucky turns on the oven and says, "Want something to drink Sweets?"
"Soda?" you ask and Steve pulls a can out of the fridge before settling down beside you, handing it to you. You hand it right back "Please? I don't wanna fuck up my nails." That makes him chuckle as he opens it and the sound makes you warm on the inside so you lean your head against his shoulder.
"Thank you," you sigh. "For always being here for me. I'm sorry I ruined your party." "You didn't ruin shit," Bucky spits out, glaring at you from where he is standing by the oven. Steve and you chuckle at his harsh tone but then he leans forward, over the counter towards you, resting his large arms against the surface.
"I mean it, Sweets, don't you ever think you ruin anything by showing up, for any reason," his voice is stern but you know it comes from a place of love. "Thank you, Bucky, it means a lot," you smile.
When the oven is warm Bucky puts the tray in and pulls out plates. It only takes a few minutes and your tummy rumbles as the kitchen fills with the smell of cheese. Bucky and Steve make small talk about work things and you're grateful for them filling the silence while you finally get some food.
But it isn't the nice chicken that you cooked for John that you looked forward to eating and your eyes begin to burn. Even though you try to force the tears back they come anyway and run down your cheeks as you eat. Neither Bucky nor Steve notice until you reach for a paper towel and sniffle loudly. Not a second later you're wrapped up in Steve's embrace, crying into his shirt again while Bucky caresses your hair and nape. They mumble sweet things to you and tell you that you're safe and that nothing is ever going to hurt you again.
After a few minutes, the tears run dry. "I'm okay," you say and Steve loosens his hold, his eyes filled with concern for you. "You sure?" "Yeah, but I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Should probably try to get some sleep.” "We're sleeping in my room," Bucky decides and you nod, Steve too.
It's not unusual for the three of you to share a bed when one of you has had a rough time. The first time it happened was after finals and you all fell asleep in Steve's bed, totally exhausted, and slept better than you'd had in weeks.
Then it was after break-ups, yours, Steve's, Bucky's, somehow you all ended up in a bed together every time and it wasn't sexual at any point, just friends being there for each other and it continued through the years. The only time it was out of the question was when one of you was in a relationship, then it just felt weird, and from previous experience, it wasn't something that partners were all that accepting of.
You retrieve your pillows and cover from your room before settling in Bucky’s huge bed, your feet twisted up with Steve's, and Bucky is holding your hand. It's nice, it's familiar and you drift off knowing you're safe with them.
The room is dark when their soft voices wake you, but that might be because of the black-out curtains and not because it's still night. They’ve moved close enough to you that you can feel the warmth from their bodies on either side of you, and Bucky’s chest is right in front of your eyes when you open them slightly to peek. They don't notice you're awake and you don't feel like announcing it either, curious what they’re talking about.
"We let her decide." Even if Steve's tone is hushed it's still hard. "She is too sweet, you know she would never hurt a fly, she's going to say no," Bucky protests harshly in a whisper. This is interesting, you think.
"Even if you and I are fine with getting blood on our hands, maybe she doesn't want to live with that, maybe she wants to press charges." Steve has always been the more level-headed of the two, good with looking at things from all angles and keeping his cool. Bucky huffs and you want to giggle. His emotions always get him in trouble, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. When Bucky is angry he sees red and when he loves he does it with his whole soul and being. One time you asked Steve how he isn’t dead yet since his poker face seems to suck, but Steve explained that when they’re doing business he is usually calm and collected. When his emotions finally break through, people know they should probably run.
"Fine.” You can tell Bucky is not happy but he lowers his voice even more, and now it’s tinged with something else. “But I'm never letting her go again." His words together with his gentle tone make your heart skip. There was a time when you seriously thought about asking them to see if the three of you could work it out, and be more than just friends. But what you have with them is so precious that if it fails in the end, and you lose your best friends, you're not sure how you're going to go on.
"And you think I will?" Steve mutters. "We should have said something a long time ago." "Well, we can't go back in time. All I know is that I love her and I can't see her with anyone else ever again," Bucky's voice sounds like it's going to crack. He never cries but that is as close as it gets.
Steve reaches over you towards him, you can't see what he does but you know how Steve's comforting hands look on Bucky, you've seen it before. Sometimes they're even sweeter with each other than they are with you, when they think no one can see them, not even you. It's so clear that they love each other deeply, honestly it's surprising that they don't just date each other.
You hear Bucky hum in contentment and Steve gives a small soft laugh. It feels like a good time as any to pretend to wake up. You file away their words for another day, not ready to deal with them now in the wake of what’s happened. First, you need to heal the broken heart you're already nursing before thinking about giving it away again.
With a groan you turn from your side to your back, stretching and blinking your eyes open. They're lying on their sides, both resting their heads on their hands. "What time is it?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Just past nine," Bucky informs you and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. "And you two are still here?" "Just for you," Steve says softly and finds your hand, twisting your fingers together.
Both of them are early risers and you hate mornings, something they tease you for endlessly. "Honestly though, have you already, like, gone for a run, had breakfast, and then sealed some important deal?" "Nope." Bucky slides his arm in under your neck, placing the other hand on your hip, and pulls you closer to him. "We didn't want to leave in case you woke up." Steve shuffles closer, his chest pressing into your shoulder. "Didn't want you to think we left you all by yourself."
You hum and decide to ask "Would it be okay if I stay here a few days?" "Sweets, stay as long as you want. It's your home as much as ours,” Steve answers. "No,” you correct. “My name is definitely not on any papers for this house." "We can fix that if that's what you want. Just move here." Bucky is serious but you decide to laugh it off. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" "Like old times." he smiles.
"Except I have no desire to listen to the people you bring home scream and moan, got enough of that in college,” tumbles out of your mouth without really thinking of it. They exchange a look but before they can say anything you hastily continue. "Do you think I need to break up with John, or do you think he got the message when I left?"
An uneasy silence falls and Bucky breaks it. "I'm gonna be honest with you Sweets, I really wanna fucking kill him, and make it as painful and as horrifying for him as possible. Death will feel like a blessing in the end." Steve speaks next. "But it's your decision, and if you wanna press charges against him, we'll make our lawyers available."
It’s a lot to take in at that moment. "I don't know,” you answer truthfully. “It still hurts, I'm still scared but I'm not sure what will make it better." "When you've decided you let us know and we'll do whatever you want." Steve bends down to kiss the top of your head.
"If I see him on the street or something though I'm gonna punch him," Bucky says casually before letting go of you and getting out of bed. When his warmth leaves you, you whine and that makes him chuckle. He kneels on the bed and kisses your forehead. "Steve will keep you company while I make breakfast." "You mean go get what the chef has already prepared?" you joke. Bucky shoots you a look before leaving the bedroom.
"We should be glad he isn't actually cooking. Remember when he tried to make pancakes for his girlfriend and almost burned down the apartment," Steve notes. "That's because he got distracted. I mean, I'm glad I came out of my room when I did but the image of Bucky and her on the kitchen table still haunts me," you chuckle.
"You weren't exactly innocent back in those days either," Steve points out with a laugh. "But I never did it on the communal surfaces," you defend with a huff. "No, all we got was listening to you trying to stifle every sound and failing miserably." "Well, at least I didn't break a wall while fucking someone." "It was a shitty wall, never have that problem here." "See that's why I don't wanna move here." "We can soundproof your room?" "Or I can just live in my apartment?"
Bucky comes back with a breakfast tray and places it on the bedside table before pulling out your phone from his pants. "It's been buzzing nonstop since I got down," he explains and hands it to you right as the screen lights up with an incoming call.
"It's John," you tell them, and your chest floods with anxiety as you stare at the screen and sit up against the headboard. "Answer it," Steve sits up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Bucky is pressed against you much the same on your other side. "On speaker," he instructs and takes out his own phone to record the call.
Your hands shake as you swipe to answer. "H-hello." Your voice is wavering. "Baby! I'm sorry for yesterday, I'm sorry I got mad. I've been calling since you left, I've been so worried. I checked your place but you weren't home. Where are you?" John says in a worried voice. "I'm at a friend's house," you reply.
The feelings in your chest are conflicted, on one hand you never want to see him again but hearing his voice makes you remember that when he is good he is great, amazing even, and you would be lying if you said you didn't miss him. For the last few months, you gave it your all and you were even prepared to tell him you love him.
"I'll come and pick you up and let me apologize properly," he sounds pained like he is actually sorry for what he did. Fuck, it's so tempting to go back but you know better. You know that this is just the tip of the iceberg, and getting wine thrown in your face is probably not the worst that can happen.
"No, John." You try to sound confident but you're not sure it comes across. "I don't think it's going to work out between us." The moment you say the words the tears well up and Steve starts rubbing your shoulder." You're doing great," he whispers right by your ear so John doesn't hear.
"Are you-" John sounds shocked. "Are you breaking up with me… over the phone?" "Yeah, sorry." You cringe, you shouldn't be sorry. "You scared me yesterday and I feel like I don't know you anymore."
"Babe you don't need to be scared of me, I would never hurt you I swear," he sounds like he is about to cry and a part of you wants to comfort him. "You threw wine in my face and said some really mean things," you point out.
"I didn't mean any of that, I promise. You know I've had a lot on my plate lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you." There is some part of you that desperately wants to believe him. "That's not an excuse," you go on. "I'm not an object for you to take out your frustration on. It's not going to work John."
There is a long silence before he speaks again and now his voice is laced with rage instead. "Then you can come get your fucking things right now." "John, please don't-" you start but he cuts you off.
"You fucking bitch, you lead me on for months and then you break up with me over the phone, because what? You think I’m gonna hit you or something?" "Yeah, maybe," you answer truthfully. "You're such a dumb bitch, I would never lay a hand on a woman I care about."
Both Steve and Bucky stir beside you. When you shoot them a glance they are both staring at the screen with murder in their eyes. "Calling me names won't change my mind, John," it hurts when he says them, like an actual stab in the heart and it brings out more tears.
Bucky leans over and taps the mute button. "There is no way you're going over there, we'll send Sam and Vis." You nod and unmute while John is raging on about how dumb and useless you are and how he wishes he'd never wasted his time on you. "I'm going to send some friends to pick up my things."
"Oh, so you won't even face me yourself?” his voice is unrecognizable now. “You know what? I'm glad for what I did, I'm not sorry anymore, you're obviously a fucking coward and not worth a second of my time." Every ounce of fight is gone from you, you're just tired and want it to be over. You don’t want to listen to the hurtful words anymore so you simply say "Goodbye John," and don't even wait for a response before hanging up. You drop the phone into the sheets and bury your face in your hands, your body jerking with sobs.
Steve and Bucky’s arms go around you but you hardly notice, everything is just excruciating pain, your heart smashed into a million pieces. Twenty-four hours ago you were happy with a man you thought you knew, and loved, but now everything is broken and you're not sure what you’re going to do next.
It takes a long time for you to stop crying and when it finally ends you're exhausted, again. The coffee Bucky brought has gone cold but Steve holds a glass of juice to your lips and makes you take a few sips before coaxing some yogurt into your mouth. "Steve is going to stay with you while I take care of a few things. If you need me, you tell him and I'll be right back," Bucky promises when he leaves the bed again, taking the tray with him out of the bedroom.
"Is he going to kill him?" you ask softly as you sink down under the covers. Steve puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest until your face is squished against it. "No," his voice is soft. "Not without me." "Steve…" "Can you blame us, Sweets? John was lucky it was over the phone or else we would have beaten him into a pulp for saying those things."
"He never acted like that before," you whisper. "I'm just happy you got out before he put his hands on you," Steve whispers back. "If you had shown up with bruises yesterday I might have lost it." "I love you," you tell him and he kisses the top of your head. "I love you too, Sweets, and I know Bucky feels just the same." You hum and let the exhaustion take over.
They have switched when you wake the next time, you're in Bucky's arms and he is carding his fingers through your hair speaking quietly to you. "Wake up Sweets, it's time for dinner."
Even if you’ve slept right through lunch you shake your head and swing your leg over his hip, clinging to him. "Don't wanna get up," you whine. "If you eat dinner, we can watch a movie on the couch afterward." He knows just how to tempt you and you need something to try and take your mind off everything.
"Candy?" you pull back. Even if the light in the room is dim you can still see the blue in his eyes, and the crinkles at the corners when he smiles. "You know we keep stock of everything you like, there is always something sweet for our Sweets."
You hug him hard. "I love you Bucky, you know that right?" "I love you too, Sweets." He kisses the top of your head, much like Steve did earlier. "And I know Steve feels just the same." That makes you giggle "Steve said the same thing." "Well he is a smart man," he shrugs.
Bucky all but pulls you out of bed but he doesn't force you to change out of your pajamas. He leads you to the kitchen where Steve is plating the food and your stomach grumbles when you smell it. They have set the table with candles and it looks lovely but it also reminds you of your last candle-lit dinner. Bucky sees the look on your face turns you away from it and tilts your chin up with his fingertips, "It’s…” he begins, hesitating, trying to find the right words. “We want to replace every bad memory, but if it’s too much too soon we’ll throw it all out.”
The scary thing is that he is serious. If you said the word they would throw everything out, but you don't want that, you want a nice dinner with them and try to get past what happened. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t but you won’t know until you’ve tried. And if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that you are safe with them.
“It’s fine, I’ll try,” you promise with a smile before turning around to sit down at the table. Steve serves the food and Bucky pours you a glass of wine. After a few bites, Bucky brings up some stupid shit the three of you did a long time ago and through dinner, you reminisce about old times.
Since meeting John you haven't seen them as much because you learned early on that partners were weirded out or even jealous of what you had with them. Right now you can’t fathom why you would ever do that, because these two people are the best thing in your life.
You fold your napkin into your lap and look at them. "I'm sorry for, like, ghosting you the last few months," you swallow hard. "I've been a shitty friend but you always take care of me when I need you, and I’m so thankful for that. I promise I’ll do better."
"It's okay sweets," Steve smiles and reaches over the table to grasp your hand. Bucky takes the other and his thumb caresses your knuckles. "Don't apologize, there is no need." The lump in your throat is from love and not from sadness this time and you don't try to speak, just nod, squeezing their hands back.
Afterward, you cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie but ten minutes in you're already nodding off. When Steve and Bucky notice you're asleep they turn the TV off and Steve carries you up to Bucky's bedroom. "She has work tomorrow," Bucky whispers and pulls the cover up over your body. "Fuck, should we wake her?" Steve asks back. "No, let her sleep, she starts at nine so if we let her sleep til seven it should be fine."
Fortunately, the alarm on your phone goes off as usual but when you turn to snooze it, you instead roll into a warm chest. Steve grumbles and reaches for your phone, handing it to you before seizing you around the waist, and burying his face in your neck.
“Hey, I have to get up,” you mutter. It feels like your eyes are filled with sand and your head is pounding but you have to go to work nonetheless. “You don’t have to work,” he speaks into your skin and it makes a tingling feeling travel through you.
“Don’t be silly, let go of me,” you chuckle and detangle yourself. The other side of the bed is empty, Bucky already up. You drag yourself over to your room to shower before getting ready and eating breakfast. Steve insists on driving you to work and Bucky comes and sees you off with a long hug and a kiss on your hair. “I’ve put Clint and Peter to watch your apartment and Sam and Vis are going to be outside your work all day, Sweets.” “Thank you, Bucky.”
When Steve drops you off he points out the car. "If you see John or you for any other reason feel unsafe you can go to them right away, or call us,” he tucks a strand of hair in behind your ear. “Don’t hesitate. You mean everything to us and we want to keep you safe, Sweets,” You nod. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek before heading to work.
What you told yourself would only be a few days, turns into a few weeks and now it’s almost two months. Despite your initial refusal, you’re enjoying living with them again. A few times after the break-up, John tried to contact you and every time the phone started buzzing and your anxiety spiked you found one of them and they helped you through it.
You haven’t slept in your room once and neither has Steve, it's always the three of you sleeping in Bucky's bed. It could be because Bucky has an expensive bed that you sleep so soundly, but in the back of your head, you know it’s because their presence calms you.
If Bucky or Steve can't drive you to work, someone else does, your own car is still parked on the street by your apartment and you don’t have any desire to go get it. But you do miss some of your clothes, and toiletries, so maybe you should take it as a sign that you need to go back.
After getting home from work that day you walk up to their office, a little apprehensive. Both of them are leaning over the desk when you poke your head in, their cuffs rolled up, exposing their underarms. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, they look too good. Steve sees you first and a smile splits his face. “Hey Sweets, have a good day at work?”
Bucky turns and opens his arms towards you when you step into the room. His hug is warm and comforting and you answer Steve’s question with a yes, before taking a step back from them. "I know I said I was only going to stay a few days but it's been way more than that now, so I think I'll go back to my place after work tomorrow." You try to sound as neutral as possible, neither sad nor happy, just stating a fact.
"No," Bucky breathes, fists tightening at his sides. "I agree with Bucky, don't leave," Steve's voice is calm and his face doesn’t give much away but his eyes are betraying him, they’re too glossy, too wide, and too filled with fear to miss.
The other reason you need to go back home is the way they are treating you and touching you. It’s making your feelings run wild and you can't have that, you can’t risk losing them too. And if that wasn't enough they've invaded your dreams with their touches and words, making you wake up aching for them in a way that is totally inappropriate.
"I can't stay, you know that," you sigh. "No, I don't." Bucky is frustrated, staring at you. "I really fucking don't know why you can't stay. We love having you here and you seem to love being here. Just stay."
His mood is making you defensive, you don't want to explain that you're obviously catching feelings soon after getting out of something traumatic. You need to think, and every time you wake up drenched, tucked in between them you are seconds away from ruining everything by confessing or honestly just taking one of their hands and pushing it in between your legs, hoping they will help you get off.
"I need my own space, Bucky," you cross your arms and glare at him. "You have your own room," he states and takes a step closer. "That I don't use anyway," you reply and take a step back. "Because you don't want to!" His raised voice silences you not because you're scared but because he's right. Bucky isn’t stupid and he's not the type to sugarcoat things when he's upset.
Your heart is hammering. "No I don't want to," you confess with a breath. "But I need to." Then you turn to go but only get a step from the desk before Steve grabs your wrist. He spins you into his chest, Bucky coming up behind you, boxing you in between them. Bucky's head falls on your shoulder. "I can't let you go again, Sweets, I can't do it."
Your mind flashes back to the morning when you pretended to sleep and heard them talking. The breath in your chest hitches as you look up into Steve's blue-green eyes. “I’m with him, Sweets,” he says in a low voice and cups your cheek with his large hand. “You belong here, with us.”
Your mouth opens and you try to protest but it dies on your tongue and Steve takes the opportunity to continue. "We love you, more than anything, we want you to be ours, more than just our best friend. Live with us, be with us in every sense of the word. All three of us, together," his voice wavers at the end.
The words sink in slowly. Be with them. Be theirs. Stay. Your body is aching to say yes and your heart is about to beat its way out of your chest. “But…” “All I know is that I feel incomplete without you, like a part of my soul is somewhere else, and the only time I'm at peace is when I'm with you two. I can't keep living like a part of me is missing. So I'm asking you, please stay, please help us figure this out and be with us." Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist. "Every time I see you with someone else my heart gets ripped out of my chest and I've tried to be with other people, we both have, but in the end, they’re not you."
Their confessions break down your defenses as their words ring true. In all your relationships over the years, there's always been something missing but you've never been able to figure out what. There's been passion and there's been love but it's always lacking something and now you think you get it. It has lacked them and the deep connection you share through years and years of friendship. Feeling stupid about wanting to leave and thinking you weren’t ready to be with them makes tears well in your eyes. Whatever it is you three can figure it out, it may not be traditional but it beats being unhappy.
"Don't cry, Sweets." Steve runs his thumb over your cheek. You lean your head into his chest, nodding against it. "I'll stay," you sniffle. The arms around your waist tighten and Bucky speaks into your shoulder. "Really Sweets?" he sounds like he’s worried that maybe you're joking.
"Really Bucky," you promise, wrapping your arms around Steve and hugging him close. For a moment it’s just the three of you enveloped in your shared love but then Bucky rights himself and you look up at him over your shoulder, matching his silly smile.
He leans in like he is about to kiss you but he stops himself, his eyes searching yours for something, and it's scary. If you take the plunge everything will change, or maybe it won't, but it feels like an earthquake is rolling through your life, upsetting everything and if you let him kiss you it will be real. But that's what you want.
"Please?" you ask him and his whole face lights up before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. It could be described as fireworks, an erupting volcano, or maybe feeling the first rays of sunlight on your skin after years in darkness, but nothing will come close to the feeling of being kissed by Bucky.
It's a chaste kiss with just his lips moving carefully against yours. It's over quicker than you want but in his place is Steve, turning your head back towards him and descending on you. His fingers run through your hair and he opens your mouth to let his tongue play with yours, the feeling once again indescribable, it's just the feeling of right. Everything about it feels right.
Even if the kiss is slow when he pulls back your breathing is labored and you're clutching his shirt. "I-" you begin but can’t find any words. That kiss ignited something inside you, it's like you're seeing color for the first time, everything is clearer and sharper. What even was your life before?
"Are doing okay Sweets?" Bucky asks next to your ear and you nod in response. When his soft lips caress the side of your neck you whimper and lean your head to give him better access, he chuckles against your skin, nipping it and making you gasp. "I wanna eat you up, find out what you taste like everywhere."
It’s a badly kept secret that Bucky has a marking kink. You’ve seen his exes, you know he's possessive and likes to leave marks. You can't wait to have them on you so you whisper, "Mark me.”
Steve chuckles above you. "She knows you, Bucky," he says with a smile. "You too, Steve, please?" You’re almost begging, but not quite, just asking nicely. "You want me to give you a hickey?" he asks with a crooked smile but those eyes are too easy to read. He craves you. "Or a bruise, or a bite mark, something, anything," "Fuck…" His face changes to match his dark eyes. "You want everyone to know you belong to us, Sweets?" he asks with a hoarse voice and you feel the large bulge in his pants press against your stomach.
You nod, biting your lip. "Show me how you do it, Bucky.” They spin you around and Bucky grabs at the collar of your blouse, pulling harshly, sending the buttons flying over the office. “Hey-” you begin but he pulls the fabric aside exposing the juncture between your shoulder and neck. First, he sinks his teeth in, hard enough for you to hiss but not breaking the skin, then he closes his lips and sucks.
It's painful but the act in itself makes you throb. When he pulls back you release your breath but Steve is quick to pull the neckline on the other side and do the exact same thing. He is gentler but when he's done there is still a purple bruise on your skin. "Fuck me," you whimper against Bucky.
"Yes, Sweets, we will. Long and hard until you can't take it anymore. We're going to ruin you." Steve promises before he grabs you and lifts you up, spinning you so you can wrap your legs around him as he starts walking to the bedroom, Bucky right behind you. You reach your hand out towards him and he grabs it, kissing your palm and knuckles. "We're going to take care of you Sweets, you'll never want for anything," he promises with a wicked smirk.
Steve places you on the edge of the bed and stands up, looking down at you. Bucky comes up beside him, resting his forearm on Steve's shoulder. "Look at our sweets, can you believe it?" Bucky asks. Steve turns to him with a smile. "Yes." Then he places two fingers under Bucky's chin, turning his head before kissing him. It's heated, filthy and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. You squeeze your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure you're feeling in your cunt. Their kiss shows that it's nothing new, they've obviously done it before and you're a little mad that they have withheld this from you.
When Steve starts pulling on Bucky's clothes you can't keep the moan from slipping out. They both break away and turn to you and you feel small in the best way possible. "Did you like that?" Bucky asks before leaning down and kissing you.
The knowledge that his tongue was just in Steve's mouth and is now sliding against yours makes you moan again. You start undoing the buttons on his shirt and he pulls on your top. When you separate, he pulls it off and you’re left in just your bralette. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat at the sight and starts taking off his own clothes.
Bucky kneels in front of you on the floor, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off, while you stare at Steve as more and more skin is revealed. He holds your gaze the whole time and you bite your lip when he starts at his pants. His chest and forearms are huge, covered in tattoos but in no way hiding the muscle underneath. It makes your mouth water and your cunt clench.
Bucky starts kissing up your bare leg, beginning at your ankles and slowly working his way up your calve and the inside of your thigh. When you're still staring at Steve he nips your skin. "I know he's gorgeous but when I eat your pussy I want your eyes on me, Sweets." He tries to look offended but his pupils are blown wide with lust.
Just the thought of him between your legs makes a shiver run through you and your cunt impossibly wetter. Nodding at him you caress the side of his face and watch him, the closer he gets, the more you start to tremble with need. No one had ever made you feel so needy and horny.
Bucky kisses your cunt through your underwear, making you gasp. "Please Bucky, I need you." "I know, I can smell how fucking wet you are Sweets." He twists your panties out of the way. "Fuck, Steve, look at her, she's dripping."
Steve, in just his underwear now, slides his fingers gently through the mess, making you tremble and moan, before bringing the fingers to his mouth and holding your gaze as he licks them clean. Then Bucky's mouth is on you, his tongue licking from your core up to your clit.
"Fuck-fuck-fuck-" you cry and grab the sheets under you, bucking up into his touch. Steve chuckles and gets behind you on the bed. "He looks like he's in heaven, Sweets. He has wanted you for so long." You feel his fingers undo the clasp of your bra and then slide it off. His hands cup your tits a second later, making more sounds spill out of your mouth. His fingers rub, caress, and pull on your nipples while Bucky is hurdling you toward your climax.
"I'm- I'm gonna-" Your legs shake and you grab Steve's arm with one hand, the other going to Bucky's head, grabbing his short hair. Every muscle in your body tenses right before the coil snaps, making you scream out your release, riding Bucky's face and feeling the pleasure-filled waves travel through your body.
You slump against Steve's and he holds you. Bucky pulls back with a shit-eating grin, wiping his face with the back of his hand, saying "Fuck Sweets," before he stands up and starts taking off his clothes.
You already feel amazing, high off your orgasm but you want more and Steve's hard-on is pressing into your back. You turn around on the bed. "Move up," you tell him and his smirk is knowing but he does as you say and moves to sit against the headboard.
You rid yourself of your drenched panties before grabbing his boxers and pulling them off. "Eager Sweets?" he chuckles and fists his cock as soon as it's free. It's thick and long as him and you can't fucking wait. You bite your lip before asking "Condom?"
"I know we should but I want to feel you raw Sweets,” he confesses. “Are you on birth control?" "Sure, and I got tested the week after…" you trail off not wanting the bad memories to ruin the moment. Bucky's heat is suddenly behind you, grabbing your hair and forcing your head back to kiss you deeply. When he lets go he says, "Steve and I got tested like a week before you moved in and I've not even looked another person's way since then." Steve laughs "And I haven't fucked anyone either so get over here and ride my cock Sweets."
To say you scramble is an accurate description, quickly shuffling over to him and straddling his hips. You hold onto his shoulders as he swipes the head of his cock through your mess, holding it still for you to sink down on.
All three of you moan in unison as his dick disappears into your tight hot channel. The grip Steve has on your hips is almost bruising and the look on his face is painful. “F-fuck. Sweets. Damn.” Is all he gets out. You lean in, kissing his cheeks and chin and lips, and start to move, slowly, the feeling is amazing, he's filling you up to the brim perfectly.
"Feels so good," you stutter and then drop down hard. "I'm never watching porn again," Bucky says from behind you and you watch him over your shoulder, kneeling on the bed and jerking his cock. You whine in the back of your throat, you want him too, so you reach for him as you bounce on Steve's cock, making him spill the most delicious sounds.
Bucky shuffles over and you grab his dick in your hand, he's big enough that it doesn't fit all the way around. His hand lands on Steve's shoulder to steady himself and Steve reaches out to place a hand on his hip.
The sounds the three of you make fill the room. It's moans, groans, and whimpers, the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness. Your clit is steadily rubbing against Steve, getting you closer and closer. Bucky is panting heavily, Steve is too.
"Sweets, I can feel you. Are you gonna come on my cock?" Steve is trying to sound unaffected and failing miserably, but he continues to spill filth that rushes you toward the edge. "When I've filled you up, Bucky is gonna fuck my cum right back into you, aren't you Buck?" "Fuck yes," he groans before leaning in and kissing you deeply. “I wanna see you come on his cock Sweets.”
"Next time I wanna feel both of you come in me at the same time," you whimper. "Sweets, you goddamn slut." Steve groans with a laugh and bucks up into you harder. "Tell us more! Please! I want to hear every filthy little thought hidden inside that mind."
You turn to look at Bucky. "I want both of you in every hole. I want you to use me like I'm a toy and worship me like a queen," you tell him, then turn to Steve. "Put my name on the house and celebrate it by fucking in every room, on every surface, show me all of your kinks, give me everything."
Steve's eyes are screwed shut and he's let go of Bucky to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his big cock. "Keep going," you urge him, your release just a few thrusts away. But he's too close and before you can get there he suddenly sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest, thrusting up hard, and comes with a loud moan of your name.
You feel wild, right on the edge of ecstasy but left dangling in mid-air. With pleading eyes and a whine you look at Bucky who smirks at you before pulling you away from Steve and laying you on your back. A second later he fills you up, the sound of his cock pushing through Steve's mess is as sweet as it's nasty.
"Please, Bucky, please," you beg. "Yeah I know, don't worry, not gonna blow my load early," he taunts over his shoulder at Steve who just gives him the finger. "Understand him though, you’re so tight and warm Sweets. Makes me a bit crazy. I just want to fill you up over and over again," he confesses.
"I need to-" you begin but he cuts you off. "Rub your clit for me. Come on my cock," he demands but you know something that is even better than your own fingers and you reach out your arm.
"Steve," you plead and he crawls over to you and lays down beside you, pushing his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit. You arch off the bed with his touch, hands clutching Bucky's arms as he rams into you. The dual sensation is amazing and with how close you were seconds ago the end approaches quickly. Your moans get louder the closer you get and both Bucky and Steve praise you the whole way through.
"You sound so fucking pretty."
"I can barely move you gripping me so tight."
"You're so good at taking cock, Sweets. First mine and now Bucky's, it's like you were made for us."
You nod at the last thing and the pressure in your body is breaking, making your muscles convulse, almost pushing Bucky out with how hard you're coming, screaming their names as you do.
"Fuck! Yes, Sweets!" Bucky’s laugh is a little manic as he works you through it. "I'm going to fill our sweet little cunt with more cum." His hips stutter against you before he groans out your name and collapses on top of you. You run your fingers over his sweaty back and kiss his cheek. Then you turn to Steve, smiling at him beside you. "He's heavy," you complain.
Both of them laugh and Bucky rolls off before they move until you're squeezed in between them, their cum running down your legs, making a mess on the bed. Fortunately, you have at least two other beds to sleep in.
For a few months, you're walking on air. In a throuple with your two best friends, amazing sex, luxury beyond what you could have ever imagined. They constantly spoil you and they've tried to convince you to quit your job since you don't need to work when you're with them.
Tonight you're in another fancy restaurant. Bucky is trying to feed you chocolate cake because it's romantic but you tell him over and over again that you can eat by yourself. Suddenly Steve stiffens beside you and since he isn't known to have tells, you immediately get worried and follow his gaze.
John is standing at the door with a pretty girl on his arm, talking to the waiter and then being shown to a table. Next to yours.
When your eyes meet he stops for a second and his date shoots confused looks between the two of you, before you nod and he nods back, then moves again and sits down.
Steve asks for the check and you're out of your seat and outside the restaurant in no time. Bucky holds your coat as you put it on and a moment later Steve comes out too. His eyes are black with hate and when you're finally in the car you realize that you can't live like this.
"I think-" you begin, swallowing then clearing your throat, "I think I'm going to need those lawyers."
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roosterbox · 4 months
Text
Had this random thinky thought the other day.
Pre-S4 Steddie are dating. Have been for a decent amount of time. They haven’t told everyone, but a few people know (Robin, Dustin). The thing, though, is that Wayne doesn’t know. Oh, he knows that Eddie has a boyfriend. He’s seen Eddie’s eyes light up like stars when he starts talking about this boy. About how beautiful he is. About how strong he is. And, most often, about how kind he is. After the buildup he’s been given, Wayne is pretty positive there’s no way for this mystery boy to live up to Eddie’s description. Especially with how loveblind his nephew is. But if the way Eddie lights up at the mere thought of him is any indication, he must be something special.
“Invite him over for dinner sometime, son. I’m dyin’ to meet this guy.”
Eddie agrees. And plans are made. But for whatever reason, said plans fall through. And keep falling through.
But then.
The events of S4 happen.
Steve manages to save Eddie, like he should have done in canon (but I digress). They end up in the hospital, and someone gets in touch with Wayne, who shows up almost immediately. And who does he see at his unconscious (severely injured) nephew’s bedside but Steve fucking Harrington.
Now I’m not saying that Wayne assumes the absolute worst upon seeing ‘King Steve’ Harrington in that room (the worst being that Steve has something to do with Eddie’s condition), but he does make his assumptions based on what he knows and remembers about Steve’s parents (especially his dad). Said assumptions are… not great.
He basically kicks Steve out. And Steve just… goes. Robin tries to protest on his behalf, but Steve tells her it’s okay. “Eddie needs him now,” he says.
Eddie doesn’t wake up for several days. Any time Wayne isn’t with him, Steve sneaks in. And gets kicked out again when Wayne comes back. Wayne, for his part, is getting more and more exasperated with his dedication.
But then Eddie wakes up, finally. Wayne and Dustin are there when he does. The latter leaves to give Eddie and Wayne their privacy for a tearful reunion, but he also calls Steve. A little while later, Steve shows up. He and Wayne lock eyes, and Wayne bristles a bit. He’s straightening up, preparing to kick him out yet again, before Eddie turns. And his entire face lights up in a brilliant smile. His eyes sparkle like twin stars.
“Stevie!” He says, imbuing the name with more emotion than Wayne ever expected.
Steve almost trips over his own feet to get to Eddie’s bedside, where he takes Eddie’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. He looks like he might cry.
And Wayne suddenly understands everything.
He lets them talk for a moment. They’ve seemingly forgotten he’s even there. There are soft loving affirmations, sweet names, and maybe even a kiss or two, before he clears his throat. The boys spring apart (Steve springs, at least), but don’t let go of each other’s hands.
“I really wish we could have gotten to meet each other over dinner instead, boys,” he says, gruff as always.
Steve looks nervous, but Eddie’s just embarrassed.
“Uhm,” Steve starts.
Wayne gently cuts him off. “I think you and I might have gotten off on the wrong foot.” And that wrong foot is entirely on me, he thinks.
Eddie looks between the two of them, confused.
“That’s okay,” Steve is quick to say. “You were just-“
Wayne cuts him off again, moving to the other side of the bed, hand outstretched.
“Wayne Munson.”
Steve hesitates, exchanging a glance with Eddie (who’s still terribly confused), before taking Wayne’s hand with his free one, shaking it.
“Steve Harrington,” he says as if Wayne didn’t recognize him on sight a few days prior.
“It’s nice to meet you Steve.” Wayne smiles. “Nice to finally see for myself the kid who makes Eddie smile like that.”
There are further discussions to be had. Eddie is angry (and a little heartbroken) to discover what’s been going on while he slept (“YOU KICKED HIM OUT HOW MANY TIMES???”), but in the end, it all works out. Eddie’s name is cleared. He (and everyone else!) makes a full and complete recovery (plus a few gnarly scars). And Wayne finally, finally, gets to sit down to dinner with his nephew, and his nephew’s boyfriend.
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libraryofgage · 3 months
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Good Vibrations Four
One | Two | Three
It has been a hot minute since I updated Good Vibrations hfjdksl thanks everyone for being patient with me, I just couldn't get this part written the way I wanted to for the loooongest time
There's a meme at the very end for anyone who sticks around!
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P
------
Of all the ways for Eddie's free period to go, getting cornered in the boy's bathroom by Robin Buckley was pretty damn low on the list. It's not even Robin's presence in the boy's bathroom that's throwing him off; it's the way her arms are crossed and she's glaring at Eddie like he's just bragged about kicking her puppy down the street.
Eddie pauses just inside the stall, holding the door open as the toilet struggles to flush behind him. A few seconds pass before Eddie forces himself to walk over to the sinks and wash his hands. "Buckley," he says, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"We need to talk, Munson," Robin says, her eyes narrowing as Eddie shuts off the faucet, grabs a few paper towels, and dries his hands. "What's your game?"
"D&D, mostly," Eddie replies, dropping the paper towels in the trash and giving Robin his full attention. He notes, briefly, that she's locked the door to the bathroom, ensuring nobody is walking in on them.
"With Steve, asshole."
Oh.
Eddie pauses, shoves his hands into his pockets, and tilts his head at her. "Still not sure what you mean," he says. He's starting to get an inkling, though.
Robin frowns, seeming to argue with herself before shoving her hands into her hair to push it out of her face. She just leaves it even frizzier and messier as she takes a deep breath. "Do you think Steve is just, like, your entertainment of the week?" she asks, placing her hands on her hips as she levels that same glare from before at him.
"What? Shit, no, of course, not," Eddie says, sliding back a step at the implication. "What the fuck, Buckley?"
She grits her teeth, takes a deep breath, and marches up to Eddie. "Listen, Munson. I know you. I know all about your little Munson Doctrine. I agreed with it once. And because of that, I know you might be thinking of getting to know all about how former King Steve is a...a...a deaf idiot so you can tell the whole fucking world about it," she hisses. "And I'm here to cut that shit off before it even starts. So, if that's your angle, Munson, I suggest you waltz your flat ass out of Steve's life before I bury you in the football field."
There's a lot to unpack there, and Eddie is going to start opening suitcases soon, but first he can't help saying, "My ass isn't flat, Buckley." Robin raises an eyebrow at him and pointedly looks in the mirror. Eddie doesn't follow her gaze, deciding he'd like to spare himself that tragedy.
When she looks back, Eddie clears his throat. "Besides, that's not...that isn't what I'm doing."
"Then what are you doing?"
Eddie looks away, squirming slightly under her gaze. If this were anyone else, if this were someone who hadn't endured the most awkward seven minutes of his life with him, Eddie wouldn't admit a thing. But because it's Robin, because he knows she'll understand even if she doesn't agree, he finds himself blurting, "I think he's cute!"
"Oh? Oh! Oooohhhh."
He can see Robin going on a whole journey over the course of one word repeated three times, and Eddie almost immediately regrets admitting anything. "You can't tell him," Eddie says, moving forward without thinking and grabbing Robin's shoulders. "I'm serious, Buckley, you can't tell Steve."
She blinks, studying his expression for a moment before humming softly. "What do you want me to do? Lie? I tell Steve everything. He'll know if I'm not telling him something," she says.
"Just say it's not your secret to tell! Because it isn't! It very much is not your secret to be sharing around."
Robin huffs and shrugs Eddie's hands off her shoulders. She leans against the sink, head tilted. "So," she says, her tone implying they're changing the subject now, "when did this little crush of yours start?"
"What do you care?"
"If I'm going to help you, Munson, I need to know."
"You're gonna help me?"
Robin grins at him. "This is my entertainment of the week."
Eddie huffs and looks away, pacing a few times from one end of the bathroom to the other before finally stopping. "Okay," he says, more psyching himself up than anything else. "Steve has always been, you know, hot. It made me so fucking angry when I realized in sophomore year since he was a jock and all. But now...now he's...more. And I'm burning up, man, I've gotta know everything. What's his music collection look like? Do the kids know he's deaf? How does he interact with people when he can't hear them? Is he comfortable closing his eyes when he kisses? Does he feel everything more because he can't hear? Wou--"
"Okay, I'm stopping you there," Robin says, her face twisted in disgust as she levels a judgmental look at Eddie. "I don't want to hear your questions about Steve and kissing or whatever else your dirty little brain is thinking of."
"You asked."
"And now I'm telling you to stop," Robin replies. She runs her fingers through her hair again, frowning slightly. "Okay, I think the most important thing here is etiquette."
"Etiquette? What, am I too rough for Steve's delicate sensibilities?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you'd like to avoid offending him the way you did the last time you spoke."
Okay. Fair. Eddie grimaces at the reminder, the image of Steve's frown and the sound of his closed-off voice forcing themselves to the front of his mind. His shoulders slump and he nods. "Yeah, I would," he says.
Robin nods once, pushes herself off the sink, and places her hands on her hips. "Let's start with some basics," she says, taking a deep breath, and Eddie finds himself wondering if he's about to get overwhelmed by these basics. "Don't talk when Steve isn't looking at you. Don't have anything in or covering your mouth when you speak. Talk a little slower and make sure you enunciate, but if you talk slow like Steve is stupid, I will punch you. If Steve asks you to repeat something, repeat it word-for-word, no matter how many times he asks. If someone addresses Steve and he doesn't notice, give him a subtle nudge. Never sneak up on Steve when he's alone. Even if it means more walking or whatever, move to a spot where he'll notice you approaching. Be expressive when you speak. Steve can't hear things like tone, so he doesn't always know when something is a joke or sarcastic. And never, ever, call Steve or anything about him bullshit."
"That last one...," Eddie says, trailing off as he frowns slightly.
"Is the most important. I'm serious, Munson."
"Okay," Eddie says, nodding once and figuring he'll leave it at that.
"Oh, and ask Steve to teach you sign language. It'll give you an excuse to see each other more often."
-----
Robin has been acting weird since she started her shift, and Steve barely manages to wait until he's 95% sure the store is empty to turn around and ask, "What's wrong?"
Her hands falter, nearly dropping the tape she's busy rewinding. She catches herself, though, and looks at Steve. "What do you mean?"
"You're not telling me something. You tell me everything. What's wrong?"
She hesitates, looking away and biting her bottom lip before sighing and looking back. "I learned a secret today, so it's not mine to tell."
"Oh," Steve says, his shoulders relaxing some. "I thought you were hiding something actually important from me."
He doesn't hear her scoff, but he sees the way her head jerks and her eyes roll when she does. "Why would I bother hiding anything from you, dingus?"
Before Steve can answer, Robin stiffens slightly as she looks over Steve's shoulder. He braces himself for the customer interaction he's about to endure, slaps on a fake smile, and turns around. "Welcome to Family Video. How ca--Eddie?" His smile softens into something genuine at seeing Eddie on the other side of the counter. "Hey, man, what's up?"
Eddie flashes a smile in return, glancing at Robin over Steve's shoulder before focusing back on him. "Hey. Just, uh, kinda had a favor to ask you," he says.
Several possibilities run through Steve's mind, all of them related to the kids, since he can't think of any other reason for Eddie to need a favor from him. "Oh," Steve says, frowning slightly in confusion. "What's the favor."
Instead of answering right away, Eddie shifts awkwardly. He looks away, tugging on a few strands of his hair like he's nervous. He starts to use them to cover his mouth, making Steve dread his inevitable request for Eddie to repeat himself, when he stops. Eddie literally freezes, his fingers twitching before he drops the strands of hair and places his hands on the counter like he needs to keep them in sight.
He takes a deep breath, and Steve is starting to get really concerned now. "Hey, Eddie, whatever it is, just ask. I won't get, like, angry or anything," he says, hoping that makes things easier.
"No, I know you won't," Eddie says, huffing softly before nodding once, more to himself than anything else. "I was, uh, thinking. I read once that sign language is, like, a thing. So, if you teach me some sign language, I'll write you a song that's all noise and vibrations."
Steve doesn't get it all at first, concentrating on Eddie's mouth and getting distracted halfway through by the thought of dragging his thumb across Eddie's bottom lip. "Could you repeat that?" he asks, steeling himself to actually pay attention this time.
Eddie doesn't complain. He just nods and repeats himself. Steve got more of it, enough to know what Eddie is asking for, but he finds himself pausing when he meets Eddie's eyes again. There's no annoyance or frustration at being asked to repeat himself. All Steve can see is patience and nervousness. Without thinking, he asks again, "Sorry, one more time please?"
And Eddie says everything again. He repeats himself word-for-word, still lacking any negative reaction to saying the same thing three times. Steve feels something warm settle behind his ribs, and he nervously licks his lips, catching the way Eddie glances down to follow the motion. He shoves his hands into his pockets, balling them into fists so he doesn't do something stupid like grab Eddie's hand. "One more time," Steve says, the words feeling breathy and soft as they brush past his lips, and he hopes he wasn't too quiet.
Eddie blinks, tilting his head slightly and glancing over Steve's shoulder again. Steve hasn't forgotten about Robin being behind him, but he figures he can just play it off as fucking with Eddie at this point. Eddie doesn't complain or ask if Steve is serious, though. He just...repeats himself, and Steve suddenly knows that Eddie would keep repeating himself until Steve got tired of asking.
"Thanks," Steve says, deciding to spare them both from continuing the loop. "I got it that time. What do you want to learn sign for?"
"A D&D campaign. Thinking of using it in the plot."
"Oh. Uh, yeah, I could teach you. Are you doing anything on Sunday?"
"Nope. Totally free. Nothing planned at all."
Steve can't help a slight grin, and he tells himself it's just because he's excited by the prospect of Eddie writing a whole song catered to how he experiences music. "Cool. Come by my place around noon."
Eddie nods once, exhaling like he's forgotten to breathe the entire time they were talking. His hands tap against the counter, drawing Steve's attention downward, and he suddenly wonders what Eddie's rings feel like. Steve forces himself to look back up before that thought can go too far.
"Will do," Eddie says once Steve is looking at him again. He flashes a smile and adds, "See you then, sweetheart."
With that, he turns on his heel and leaves, waving over his shoulder like Steve isn't trying to figure out if he read his words correctly. He watches Eddie leave, waiting for the door to close behind him before whirling around to find Robin still rewinding tapes like nothing happened. "Did he call me sweetheart?" Steve asks, needing to know if he's misunderstanding.
Robin looks up, eyebrows raised. "Don't know, dingus. I wasn't listening."
Steve barks out a laugh. "You're always listening," he points out.
She grins at him, her expression screaming trouble and that she knows something he doesn't. "Well, not that time," she replies, her grin widening as she adds, "But if I was, I'd say he did, yeah."
"He did," Steve murmurs, looking away from Robin and letting her confirmation sink in.
----------
Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz
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@hallucinatedjosten, @queenie-ofthe-void, @r0binscript, @jewellthebooknerd, @paintgonewrong, @vacantwatchers, @newagemyth, @gutterflower77, @just-a-tiny-void, @littlebluejane
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The meme for those who stuck around:
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loveinhawkins · 9 months
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Steve’s bat bites start to bleed again during the drive out of The War Zone.
It’s a slow realisation, a creeping dampness on his skin.
He stays as still as he can, keeps his movements small and contained when turning the steering wheel; he thinks he mostly gets away with it, manages to park the RV and pitch his voice on just the right side of normal as he tells the kids to scram.
Awareness of his surroundings grows a little fuzzy around the edges, but he senses enough to know that he’s alone—the silence feels heavy, makes his ears ring.
He lifts himself up out of his seat, one hand clinging onto the headrest for balance. The ringing gets sharper, more high-pitched; he shakes his head to try and clear it.
One step forward, then another, and another.
There’s a slight rocking motion under his feet. It feels a little like he’s in a boat that’s docked, constant movement even in the gentlest of waters.
His palms brush against the bathroom door.
“Okay,” Steve whispers to himself.
He hangs onto the sink to keep himself upright—feels the room sway, as if the waters underneath have suddenly become stormy.
With one hand, he finds the knot in the bandage.
“Okay, okay…”
Pulls.
Steve doesn’t think he blacks out, not quite, but there’s a shift, a dizzying tilt… and then, somehow, he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.
And…
The bat bites must cause hallucinations or something.
Otherwise, Steve cannot explain why Eddie—who notoriously threw up and passed out during a dissection in Biology—is currently pressing a clean bandage against his stomach, staring down at the blood like he can’t look away.
“You’re good, you’re good,” Eddie’s saying.
He’s clearly trying to sound calm, but it’s just coming out strained, like what he really means is this is all a fucking nightmare actually, but we’ve gotta find something to be optimistic about.
“Think it just needs some more pressure,” he goes on. “Yeah, there, see? It’s stopping. Oh, thank God.”
Steve feels more gauze getting wrapped around his middle—if he wasn’t injured, it’d almost be a nice sensation, Eddie’s touch somehow the perfect mix of both firm and gentle.
As he works, Eddie hums nervously.
“Talk to me Harrington,” he says in a shaky sing-song. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, man, gimme some awkward small talk. Got any hopes? Dreams? Anything I should know?
Oh, so many things, Steve thinks, still light-headed.
But then he really does mull that over: his mind goes to The Upside Down, to belatedly telling Eddie about the hive mind, and oh shit.
“Hey, weird question,” Steve says, “but I’ve not been, like, asking you to make it cold in here or, um, anything like that?”
Eddie blinks. “Uh. No?”
“Okay.” Before he lets the relief of hearing Eddie’s answer sink in, Steve adds, “If I ever do, you need to lock me in here and get out. Tell Nancy.”
Eddie’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “Sure. Cool. Cool! Uh, for any particular reason or—?”
“Just in case—like, I don’t feel any different, but—one time, Will Byers, when he was in The Upside Down it, like, infected him? Like a virus. Except more… possession. And they had to kinda… burn it outta him.”
“Ha,” Eddie says. A beat. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”
“I really don’t have the energy to be messing with you, dude.”
“Sorry. Sometimes you all just say things, y’know? And if I don’t get it, I’m like, well, they’ve been living through this for a while, maybe they’ve got a code going on.”
“I mean,” Steve says, “we kinda do.”
Eddie shakes his head. “So when Buckley said she dealt with a human-flesh-based monster, and the one before that was smoke-related, that wasn’t just, like, a really fucked up metaphor?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Please say it was a metaphor.”
“Sorry,” Steve says sincerely.
Eddie sighs through a lacklustre chuckle. “You’re fine, Steve. As for, uh, being possessed, I don’t think so. You’re no weirder than usual, but—”
“Wow, thanks. Means such a lot coming from you.”
“—you were a bit, like, out of it for a few seconds, but it just looked like you were gonna faint on me. Um. How’re you feeling now?”
“Good,” Steve says. When Eddie raises an eyebrow, he tacks on, “As good as I can be, I guess. Still.” He groans slightly as he stands, goes back over to the sink. “Better check.”
“Check? What?”
Steve runs the water as hot as it will possibly go, until the steam is evident. He sticks his hand right into the stream, hears Eddie hiss as the water scalds his skin.
“Okay, yup. Not possessed.”
“Fucking fantastic. Now I want it cold,” Eddie says.
He takes control of the faucet, nods for Steve to put his hand under the now cold water.
After a minute or two, Eddie sighs and collapses onto the toilet seat himself.
There’s a squeak as Steve turns the faucet off—his skin’s probably not had the good of the cold water for nearly long enough, but it’ll do.
Eddie’s tipped his head back so he’s facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Steve watches him with sympathy; he really must hate blood.
“Eddie. You can go.”
“Mm, nope,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “I’m fine right here.”
“Suit yourself.”
Steve turns back to the sink, frowns at the tiny mirror above it; there’s black spots on the glass, but he can make out enough. Christ, the bags under his eyes are horrific.
“Relax, Casanova,” Eddie says, almost as if he’s heard Steve’s thoughts. “You look good.”
“Uh-huh. Think your brain’s fried from being on the run.”
Steve leans against the sink with one hip, finds Eddie looking at him with a small smile.
“Yeah, probably. Or maybe being on the run just suits you.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down. His smile falters. “You know, in an ideal world,” he says conversationally, “you’d be in a hospital getting stitches.”
Steve scoffs. “In an ideal world, I’d be in bed sleeping.”
“Amen to that,” Eddie says lightly. But he still looks sombre. “Seriously, though. If it gets… you know. I’d drive you.”
“To the hospital? What are you gonna do, Eddie, wander up to the front desk? Sounds like a real interesting way to get arrested.”
But Eddie doesn’t leap at the chance to make a joke.
“Steve,” he says softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t care.”
“That would sorta ruin the whole priority of hiding you.”
“That’s—” Eddie huffs. “That’s not the priority.”
“Huh, that’s funny, cause it is in my book.” Steve nods at the door, to his whole world just outside. “One of many.”
Eddie’s eyes narrow. “And your name better be right at the top, Harrington.”
Steve hums.
“In bold. Underlined.”
“Whatever you say.”
Eddie groans quietly, runs a hand down his face. “You worry me, man.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“I know. Just…” Eddie hesitates. “Don’t go off alone. You know?”
Steve thinks it over. He steps forward and offers Eddie his hand.
Eddie takes it.
When Steve pulls him up, he stumbles a little, as if he feels like he’s on a boat, too.
“Oops, sorry.” He grabs onto Steve’s forearm for balance. “Think this should be the other way round, man.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so.”
Steve leads the way out of the bathroom—doesn’t mention the fact that, really, they’re both holding each other up.
There’s a bottle of water left in the back. Steve twists the cap off. Drinks.
“You too,” he tells Eddie.
“Huh?”
Steve considers him—thinks of the little flare of panic he felt when watching Eddie walk through the woods, tiptoeing around vines. How he had a sudden instinct to catch up to him, to make sure he wasn’t alone.
“I’m making a deal,” Steve says. “I won’t go off alone if you don’t.”
He lifts the bottle up as if making a toast—drinks again then passes it over to Eddie.
For the slightest of moments, their fingers brush; Eddie’s rings skim over Steve’s knuckles.
“So what’s this?” Eddie asks. “Legally binding magical water?”
Steve shrugs. “Cool metaphor,” he replies.
You say you just turn heel and run, Eddie. But sometimes I think if there was a fire, you’d run towards the flames if it meant no-one else got hurt.
Eddie smiles. Tilts the bottle towards Steve.
“Guess it’s a promise, then,” he says.
He drinks.
Steve prays that it holds.
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ikarakie · 1 year
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tw / roofies
after corroded coffin goes big, sometime in the mid 90s, they go on tour. mostly in smaller venues and little dive bars, but eddie fucking loves it. drags robin and steve along with him as his 'managers' (see: freeloaders) mainly because he wanted his boyfriend with him and knew he couldn't keep birdie away from him for that prolonged period of time. it would be cruel.
mid-way through the tour, they perform in a bar. eddie likes to mill around after, chat to fans, get a drink, sign things, peacock a little. this time is no different. until robin comes up to him, noticeably alone. he asks where steve is at the same time she does. not fucking good.
they both scour the bar, and eddie's about two seconds away from ripping his hair out when robin grabs his arm and points to a booth in the corner. it's filled with girls, all in battle vests and dark eye makeup, and nestled between two of them on one side is steve. he's slumped over, head rested on the table, pillowed by one of the girl's hoodies. there's an empty glass beside another half empty one, both seemingly water. he rushes over.
they're a bit surprised to see him. when he asks after steve, they regard him with fucking suspicion. he has to show them the polaroid he carries around with him to make them soften. they explain they'd spotted him looking a bit dazed, and called him over. he'd told them he thought someone, somewhere, had slipped something in his drink and he couldn't find his friend, and so they'd squished him between them to keep him safe. eddie feels his heart burst, especially seeing the little corroded coffin pins on all their jackets and bags.
he gently shakes steve awake, presses a kiss to his temple and hands him off to robin, who carefully escorts him to the back exit where their van is parked. thanks the girls, profusely. they try to wave him off but he refuses to leave until he has all their names, has signed at least one thing for each of them and taken a photo with them on their camera.
years and years and years down the line, he still mentions them in interviews. by name. gushes about how they're the original corroded coffin fans, how dearly he loves them, and how if anyone is allowed to gatekeep in his fandom, it's them. every time he sees them at barrier for a concert he fucking lights up and calls them out. they're hailed by fans as minor celebrities, even. only they, steve (who calls them each every holiday and has actually become fucking friends with them) and robin know why they're so close.
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yabakuboi · 1 month
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Robin has a love-hate relationship with Steve-and-Eddie. Love, because those are her best friends and her best friends are in love with each other and they never leave her out of anything. Hate, because sometimes she wishes they would because she keeps accidentally third-wheeling herself.
She doesn't hate it that much though, if she's honest. It's just fun to complain, especially because it riles the both of them up.
But right now, she's being quiet so she can witness one of her secretly-favorite Steve-and-Eddie rituals—of which there are many, but this one is silly and endearing.
It starts like this:
The waitress sets down their drinks, lemonade for Robin, coca-cola for Steve, and a cherry soda for Eddie.
"Don't you dare," Eddie says, even as Steve reaches for Eddie's drink, slipping his straw in next to Eddie's and slurping obnoxiously. Eddie doesn't even pretend to stop him anymore. "Unbelievable."
"I just want to taste it!"
"You could just get a whole glass of it! All for yourself!!"
"It's too sweet, I don't want a whole glass."
"What, so you think you can just help yourself to mine?"
Steve's grin is far too smug, even for Robin, even when Steve slides it to her so she can take a sip. Steve is right, it is really too sweet and she wrinkles her nose, but it's worth it for the offended gasp Eddie makes when she slides it back to him.
The diner is their favorite, because everyone who works there has given up on understanding their weird dynamic: Robin and Steve squished into on side of the booth while Eddie's spread out on the other, Robin making gagging noises whenever Steve brushes against her, even though they never sit in any other configuration. The staff has long since stopped asking which of them was her boyfriend, and that's perfect for her.
Besides, she knows that under the table, Steve and Eddie have their ankles locked together like the disgusting love-sick dorks that they are.
The Steve-and-Eddie show continues when their meals come out. Chicken fingers and fries for Steve because he's an actual child, and breakfast for dinner for Eddie because he likes to be contrary. And then the real performance begins.
They "fight" over the ketchup bottle, which really means that Eddie picks it up and Steve snatches it out of his hands—only for Steve to spread it over Eddie's scrambled eggs (gross) for him before he adds a disgusting amount to his own basket.
Eddie makes a game of stealing Steve's fries when he thinks he isn't looking (Steve is, he's tallying each one up in his head, Robin knows this because she's doing it too), and when he finally "catches" Eddie in the act, he steals Eddie's last piece of bacon—the one that's sat untouched for the last five minutes for this very reason.
Then, Eddie's "forcing" Steve to try his grits, like he does every time, and game eats a spoonful of it, every time, and then complains at length how much he hates it (and he actually does hate it, the texture is just not for him, Robin knows because it's the same for her too).
And then they do the worst, most disgusting thing ever: they split the pancake in half. Without fail. Without argument. Every time.
Robin, slurping on her strawberry milk shake that she will NEVER share with anyone ever, thinks that stupid pancake is like the symbol of their love or something. Sh's sure if they weren't in public, they'd be feeding it to each other.
"What?" They say it in unison, and Robin hates when they do that to her.
(Eddie complains about it right back at her, because she and Steve do the same thing to him all the time. They should blame Steve, since he's the common denominator, but he just looks so pleased about them both that they can't rag on him for it, so Eddie remains Robin's sworn enemy and vice versa.)
"What what?" she sneers at them, voice quiet. "You two are disgusting, it's like you're making out right in front of me right now."
"What are you, homophobic?" Eddie hisses back, just as quiet. "I'm in love with your best friend, Buckley. I'm making out with him in front of you for the rest of your life."
"Ugh! I hate you so much."
"Right back at you."
And then they start kicking at each other beneath the table, no doubt catching Steve's ankles in the crossfire. He doesn't tell them to stop though, and Robin can see that pleased, sappy smile on his stupid face out of the corner of her eye, so she lands an exceptionally harsh blow to Eddie's shin in retaliation for making her best friend so happy. He digs his heel into her toes in return.
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tissueoflies · 2 years
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isbuckybarnesokay · 2 years
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Steve never turns the heater on in his car when he's alone. This is something Eddie picks up on fairly quickly, as summer turns to autumn, as the air cools down. The mornings are icy, now. There's a bite to each and every breath that you can suck in almost like smoke, and it's pleasant for all of two seconds before it chills you to the bone.
The first time he notices it, there's so much noise in the car that Eddie doesn't get a chance to say anything - Dustin is chattering on to Mike about god-knows-what. Instead, he just watches from the passenger seat as Steve clocks Will's chattering teeth in the rearview mirror and immediately reaches forward to crank up the dial.
The second time, it's just Steve and Eddie, and they're driving back from dropping Eddie's van off at the mechanics. Steve meets him outside the shop at a crisp 7am, and it's fucking freezing, honestly. Eddie slides into the passenger seat and winces at the way his breaths come out in a cloud. "Shit, dude," he groans, "aren't you cold?" Steve shrugs, focused on driving. "A bit, I guess. Help yourself." He waves at the AC settings carelessly. How the fuck are you not freezing your balls off? Eddie wonders, but he doesn't voice the thought aloud, though he very much wants to. There's something here, he thinks. There's something I'm not getting.
The third time it happens, Eddie doesn't even need to get in the car to know Steve didn't switch the heating on. He knows this because when Steve saunters into the new trailer, a 6-pack in hand, his lips are almost blue. He's wearing a too-thin jacket, undone over a plain shirt. Eddie frowns. "Jesus Christ, Steve," he murmurs, immediately rushing through to his room to grab a sweater. He throws it at Steve when he gets back out to the main room, chewing at the inside of his cheek. "What's this for?" "Because you're fucking freezing, man. Are you kidding me? You're turning to ice right in front of me, look at you." And it's so wrong that Steve looks so confused. It's so wrong. Because he's so clearly cold as hell. It looks painful, damn it, the way his hands are shaking, the way he can't quite move his fingers properly when he goes to pop the cap off of his beer. I am going to take care of you until you figure out how to take care of yourself, Eddie thinks, fierce and determined. And he does.
When Steve leaves that night, after the movie, Eddie makes him keep the black knit sweater on, makes him take it with him. "You look cute," he grins, aiming for playful, aiming for the misdirect. He likes the way it makes Steve blush, anyway. It's a win-win. Eddie follows close behind Steve down the steps of the trailer, catching the driver's door with a quick hand before it can slam closed. He waits for Steve to start the car before getting to work. "What're you-" Steve begins, falling silent as Eddie leans over him and switches the heating on. "You," he mutters, pulling back, tapping a finger on Steve's forehead. "You keep that on until you get home, you hear me, big boy?" Steve looks bewildered, but nods anyway.
Eddie starts bringing an extra jacket or sweater with him everywhere, after that, and it comes in handy more times than he'd like. He wishes it wasn't the only way to get Steve into his clothes. He buys Steve a hot water bottle with a cover that's the same yellow as that sweater that he loves so much. Eddie gets into the habit of calling Steve each night, and before he hangs up, he tells Steve to fill it up. Tells Steve to use it. He checks Steve's bed one day, pulls back the duvet a bit, and can't help but beam when he sees the hot water bottle tucked there. When he presses a hand to it, it's still warm.
One day, nearing Christmas, now, Eddie slides into the passenger seat of Steve's car, and the heater is already on, car toasty and warm. His cheeks dimple when he sees that Steve is already wearing Eddie's own black knit sweater; His smile only widens further as Steve comments, "Fucking freezing today, man. When did it get so cold?" Eddie just chokes out a laugh and throws the spare jacket he'd brought with him onto the back seat. He has to turn his head to look out the window so Steve can't see the proud tears in his eyes.
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barneswinchester · 2 months
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MCU Masterlist III
as always, I don't own any of these, they're just my absolute favourites.
mcu masterlist I
mcu masterlist II
Bucky Barnes
SMUT 👅
drabble
look at me
bad date
welcome back
ride
on his knees
wake up bj
a taste of submission
a good plowin
bliss
printesa mea
somnophilia
languages of love
FLUFF & ANGST 🤍
protective
purgatory
grouch
his safe place
night terrors
my babydoll
sensitive
safe with me
Steve Rogers
SMUT 👅
the game
FLUFF & ANGST 🤍
my love is winter
the game
every step of the way
Stucky
SMUT 👅
feral
heat of the moment
a sweet treat
FLUFF & ANGST 🤍
initials
I'm pregnant, not dying
brave new world
happy ending
last hope part two
Andy Barber
SMUT 👅
anonymous
Ari Levinson
FLUFF & ANGST 🤍
you said I was your favourite
SMUT 👅
forget everything
Loki
FLUFF & ANGST 🤍
bad dreams
Lee Bodecker
SMUT 👅
persuasion
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