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eccentricallygothic · 9 days

Text

|| Wrong Turn ||

Pairing: Mountain Man Silver Fox Nomad!Steve Rogers | You.

Trope: Neat and clean ‘civilized’ Princess-like young trophy wife X Filthy beast of a wild and scary man who only got her because he has the power.

Description: In a desperate attempt to save your life from the wrath of the mountain people that your friends and you stumbled upon and accidentally killed on a hike gone wrong, you had to offer yourself up to their Leader to use as a ‘resource’. But little did your ‘husband’ know, you had been actively getting rid of his seed to avoid actually getting pregnant. Naturally, when he does find out, he is very unhappy… And also very determined to make sure you don't make it out of your punishment without a child, or two.

Warning(s): Dubcon, barbaric!Steve, breeding kink (gone wild), unprotected p-in-v, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, missionary, he has a wife bod kink (but it is inclusive), misogyny, smut with perhaps too much plot, fear kink, size kink, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, age gap, hair pulling, spanking, biting, allusions to painal and Steve being a teasing sicko about it but he doesn't actually penetrate, overstimulation, dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, boob play, squirting, Lloyd makes an appearance with his own young bride, dacryphilia (it's me), self degradation, Stevie is a perverted old meanie, infantilization, mind break.

Disclaimer: Very loosely based off of the movie that I do not own. You don't need to know it to read this piece but do note that it takes place in a fictional setting. Minors do not interact.

Inspo-ish: This post.

Note: For someone who was on their period, I should not have been this horny. But I need this marriage, now. Ps, though this rotted in my drafts for a long time… in honor of Chris growing out his beard again, ig.

MASTERLIST

. . .

You have no idea how long it has been since that fateful twilight when everything changed in your life, leaving you to a lifestyle you could never have even imagined for yourself.

“Eat up, woman” but as your barbarian of a husband commands you in his rough and animalistically deep voice, you cannot help but break out of your reverie and shudder at the sight of the barely cooked meat piled high on the platter in front of the two of you. “So you can bear me healthy children” although you're the one who was made to prepare his beastly dinner -that never fails to leave you aghast when it's gorged down- as you're his wife, you cannot help but gag under your breath and feel disgust for the loaves that sit before you in the company of a tall stone carved jug that brims full of the foul smelling mead that your husband is ardently fond of.

You muster up your best coy smile. Keeping up the appearance of a happily mated pair is important. Or people stare. And then the old man becomes unpleasant. “I had quite a lot while I was cooking, dear” your lies sting your tongue out of the fear you feel of getting caught, but the mere hope of not doing so is better than eating this. “Y- You go ahead” you slowly turn in his muscle hardened lap, that you are always to sit on, to give him a small smile but your expression almost transforms into one of horror because of how wildly your heart jumps at the sight of his stern, predator-like face. You are quick to recover though, as it is a usual occurrence.

“You need it. You work so hard—” there is just something about his rough looks that never fails to send a chill down your spine. You have never seen anything, let alone an actual human man like him before.

A beard as thick as the very forest his people populate and as dark as the nights can get here in the absence of lanterns due to the heavy trees, age that streaks some of his gold locks with its silver has not marred the sternness of his jaw that remains firmly set under the heavy mane of his facial hair. His shoulders seem akin to the mountains that surround his village and his piercing dark eyes the mysterious waterfall that flows some way down south from the entrance of the settlement. The frightening mass of his shoulders is so toned that if the barely noticeable wrinkles that sometimes appear under the dark of his eyebrows and next to the crow-feather like lashes that frame his eyes, he can easily be mistaken for a man in his primeful late twenties and no older. His unrelenting strength and wolfish stamina would only further serve to bear testament to the misconception.

Your strict husband bluntly catches your shaky hand that you extend in his direction to feed him some of the meat, the force that he uses coupled with the coarseness of his skin making you jump. You bite back a yelp and whimper when you look up at his dark blue eyes from where you were watching his bearded mouth to carefully place the food in.

“I don't care” Steve does not care much for being polite -unless it is you who disregards it in your behavior-, especially when it comes to you denying or diverting his ‘care’ for you. “You eat more” you bite back the scowl that threatens to break onto your face from how he turns your hand around in your direction instead. “Wives always need to eat more. They do so much at home for husband and children” he probably feels proud of these ‘values’ that have been transmitted to him by his elders. But all they make you want to do is to crack him across the jaw for being a misogynistic and backward shithead. Especially with you.

Your ‘husband’ believes that everyone has a role to play; a contribution to make to their people and home. That is how this archaic village of theirs has survived in these mountains hidden away from the rest of the world for so long.

The greasy piece of a disturbing excuse of a rare steak touches your lips and you've been here long enough to know better than to argue or worse yet, fight. So you smile and lean into his arm that cases your form against his through the embrace he holds you in from behind, his fingers playing with one of the many flowered braids your attending ladies had put in your hair a bit before his arrival at ‘home’.

“O- Of course” you reluctantly open your open and grip your flowy dressing gown for a semblance of support for your sanity, taking the smallest bite you can -which is still a lot as the man pushes nearly the whole piece into your mouth the moment you open up- as you keep your eyes trained on his to avoid looking down. Your mind always becomes more aware of the taste when you look. “Thank you, dear” you focus on swallowing it without gagging and feel your smile split in places because of how uncomfortable you are.

He probably notices it because he slightly raises one eyebrow and snorts before hugging your smaller form -that is tiny compared to his- closer and puts the rest of the piece in his own mouth. If there is one thing you have learnt in your time with him, it's that you can never fool him. Not really. No matter how well you may think you have lied or pretended, he always sees through it.

Sometimes you suspect he even enjoys it.

Steve finally begins to eat himself, silently offering you another piece that you politely reject by shaking your head and then quickly pressing an apologetic kiss to his scruffy cheek to lighten the blow. Apparently, a wife can never be polite enough to her husband. And though the change in his expression begins with an unhappy frown, your show of ‘affection’ seems to suffice him and he relaxes in satisfaction, now looking down the long table and at his clansmen and maidens that sit enjoying their dinner, their chatter and laughter a dull roar in the large eating hall of the Leader's dwelling. You pick up the heavy jug of mead with both your hands and obediently hold it to his lips to sip from. Steve looks away from what one of his main men are saying and gulps down a mouthful, rubbing your back as a gesture for thanks before moving his hand quickly down to squeeze your ass to heighten the effect of his expression of gratitude.

His form shakes in mirth when you yelp and blush. He knows how embarrassing you find being openly ‘affectionate’ in front of people and that is one of the reasons why he enjoys it so much besides showing off that a thing of such beauty and youth like you is all his. You rest the jug between your boobs that he has fucked and squeezed into increasing in size and use your other hand to gently finger and stroke his golden locks that he keeps pushed away from his face outside the bedroom. Though he says nothing, you feel his usually vigilant and always firm stature slowly soften and you cannot help but smile, though what he says next quickly deflates it.

“Do you feel any change in you, wife?” You know what it means and now it's you who becomes tense. He only uses that name for you when he speaks to you as a husband inquiring about your marital matters. “Has my seed attached to your womb yet? Does it grow there?” You gulp and feign shyness, moving closer to his hair and nuzzling yourself in him. “Hm?” He closes his hugging arm around you and reaches for your stomach, fingers groping your covered skin as gently as he can -which isn't much- to feel it. “Answer me” he demands when you refuse to speak.

“I… I don't know, husband” you always promise yourself that you'll demand more rights for yourself; ask him to treat you like the other husbands treat their wives, only to fail the minute he enters your vicinity.

“What does that mean?” His tone turns blunt and you whimper at the tightness that snaps back in place between his shoulders.

You get it.

That was the deal, after all.

Healthy children in exchange for your life that was required by their judicial laws for bearing false witness to your friend accidentally killing one of their people in mistaken defense. Steve had promised you before accepting you as a citizen that if you failed to fulfill your task you'd walk the darkness in the dungeons. He had shown you how it would be before declaring you a member of their tribe and the sight you had seen was something that had given you nightmares for days.

But that did not mean you actually wanted to have your old captor's children.

You doubted it would ever be something you'd look forward to.

“I- I mean” regret shoots up your spine in the form of fear and you lose your speech to it momentarily. But then two of your main attending ladies -by that you mean Steve's top agents when it comes to you- enter the horizon of your sight and you hurriedly blubber out the first thing that comes to your mind. “I've n- never been pregnant before, s-o I d- don't know how to…” Your husband turns to look at you, his handsome features twisting into a rogue scowl but before he can scold you, one of the two ladies, Kaira, speaks in their language to Steve.

Not everyone here can speak English and those who do speak it do so a rather odd version of it. Naturally, you don't speak their language and so they give you the full experience of an outsider when they need to discuss the business they want to keep private from you. The thought makes you want to laugh, like you'd be able to do something with whatever informations they withhold.

But it doesn't really bother you, because you don't care.

You've also learnt that ignorance is bliss here.

Especially for someone like you.

Better to be the doe eyed trophy wife of an angel who can't tell her head from her ass.

“Is that so?” Your heart jumps when Steve chooses to speak English. That means that this definitely concerns you. You place the mead down and wrap one arm around his broad shoulders before nervously combing his thick beard with your other hand. Since you have no interest in or desire to learn their language, the only word you manage to pick up on when you focus really hard is ‘baby’ and that is solely because of the annoying amount of times it comes up for you.

“Is not this strange?” He speaks once the women step back after finally ending the nerve wracking conversation that seems to go on forever. “Do you hear what they say about you, little one?” Fuck, you're definitely in trouble.

He is reminding you of your place.

You put on your best charming smile but you're painfully aware that your nervousness gives it away. You can feel it. “W- What do they say, dear?” They were such bitches. They knew how to speak English, that's why they were your attendants, but yet they chose not to. And now they were glaring at you like you weren't above them— oh no, not these thoughts again. You will never become like them! No, no!

Steve pushes his plate away now. Your head spins from the realization. It's only half finished. Your husband never wastes his food. It is a near sin for them to do so. “They tell me the most odd things” oh just fucking tell me! You mentally scream but outwardly tilt your head to the side in confusion, your chest vibrating with the rising beats of your heart. “And now that I think about it myself…” His fingers wrap around the mead before he raises it to his lips. “I see the—”

“What did they say, Steve?” Your mouth works faster than your better sense and he pauses mid sip, dark blue eyes flickering up from the stone jug to look at you. Your face flushes a noticeable hot and your ears get sweaty from the awareness.

Fuck.

“They say you've been getting rid of my seed” he feels played and thus angry at the both of you. Perhaps more so towards himself than you; his silly little child-wife. How could he let a thing as tender and small as you fool him so? “... Do you?” It is obvious you are guilty. Besides, he is confident that his people would never lie to him unlike one young and beautiful girl that he had found kneeling in front of him in his court while bawling her eyes out one fateful night, fear stricken as his people surrounded him like a doe trapped.

And of course, your expressions and reactions don't help your case, as always. “W- What? No…” Your mind becomes erratic.

“No?” He himself knows not what kind of a chance he offers you with that. But typical to your nature, you make it easy for him by refusing it.

“N- No! Of course not! W- Why would I ever do such a thing to m- my husb- hubby and my b- babies?!” Steve has to clench down his scoff.

“You wouldn't, would you?” Your naivete never fails to amuse him.

“No! I- I don't know why they accuse me so—” you mend your speech from the archaic form that tries to leech to it everyday. “I don't know why they would accuse me of that but they must be mistaken! This is a misunderstanding!”

He hums. “I see…” His scarred fingers begin to toy with your braids again. “So you remain devoted to me and faithful to our family, don't you?”

“Of course!” You nuzzle closer to him, your heart thundering into his chest. “I don't know why they still treat me like an outsider” you purr as you nervously stroke his hair, playing a card of your own and making an absolute fool of yourself by doing so. “I try my best… like I promised.”

“Yes, your promise” his distant eyes -they get like that when you disappoint him and you hate the sight because it never fares well for you- travel down to your empty stomach. His gaze makes it wrench. Your fear skyrockets at the same rate as your anger. If only there was a way for you to get back at those bitches without having to give birth!

“I- It takes time sometimes, dear…” You hug his shoulders with one arm. “But it will happen. I know it…” Your other hand reaches for his fingers that rest on your abdomen now.

“Oh?” Steve raises one dark eyebrow at you. His hair is the most fascinating combination of blonde and dark brown. “Is that what your modern day sciences say?” His people were not always like this, he had told you. They did not originate from here. Rather, some families had abandoned ‘civilization’ when it was going to hell -in his words- by killing each other for meaningless constructs such as caste, creed and color differences and migrated up here to establish a system of their own; one free from such nonsense.

Apparently.

You take a deep breath. “Stevie—” you only call him that when you find yourself dangerously close to the dungeons.

“If that is what you believe in, wife,” he never cuts you off. Usually, that is. His age that streaks his blonde strands with its silver ones has granted him enough patience. Normally, he waits for the other person -who is most often you- to mess up themselves. But whatever the ladies have told him seems to agitate him into rebelling against his own nature today. “I'll do it your way. After all, happy wife happy life, is that not what you tell me often?” Okay, you might have said that during a particularly cocky moment in bed once.

But the intention behind that had not been nearly whatever he is moving towards now.

“Y- You don't have to, l- love…” You nervously giggle. “You're perfect the way you are” you run your nails that he insists you keep trimmed for hygienic -as if- and practical purposes through his silver-blonde hair.

“Oh no…” Now he pushes his food farther away. “I will indulge you, little one” he moves your other leg over his laps so now you face the people down the table with both of your legs on either sides of his, ass to his… fuck. “Time conspires against us, and so we must make haste.”

Your eyes widen and your heart leaps up in your throat. “M- My love?!”

Steve moves your flowy gown out of his way, keeping a firm hold on one of your thighs even though he doesn't really have to. Your fear of him would never let you attempt an escape. “Yes, my stars” the name is so full of sarcasm it nearly pierces you open. “Let us leave time to its devices, and us ours” your husband is usually a very possessive and private man when it comes to you, but his ire seems to get the better of him today. You hear the buckle of his own clothes come undone. The table goes silent and heads turn in your direction once they realize what's going on. Oh no… Your stomach drops. Not in front of everyone. Not when Steve makes you so vulnerable in that condition. Not in front of these lowlifes!

“Husb—” blood bubbles hot under your cheeks as you feel him align himself against you.

Holy shit.

You feel one of his coarse hands wrap around your throat and he pulls you closer to his mouth so he can whisper in your ear. “You will contribute, my stubborn little wife,” you whimper from the menace his words hold, your well trained cunt obediently squelching open against his thick hard tip as he lowers you on his cock with the hold he has on your thigh. “Whether you like it, or not” sometimes, deep down, you fear that the dungeons are not an option anymore.

He keeps you in the horizons of his sight too much for them to be.

It appears as though the sentence has changed.

It is now Steve, or Steve.

You cry out from the strain his log-like girth puts on the narrow band of your entrance. God. You will never get used to his size regardless of how many times and ways he tames your pussy in. Yes, it does not refuse him or rip around him now as it used to in the beginning -and it did that for a long time- but the size to which his cock makes it expand is like a mini-birth. Feels like it, looks like it. Only, it feels way too good. And that's why you don't mind it—

No. You don't know what that was or meant. But you don't take responsibility for that thought!

“Oh!” The balmy velvet of your cavern grazes down the bulging veins and hard skin of the brute's cock until your petals squish against his heavy and very eager balls. Your head spins when you feel his tip tickle your cervix. It never takes his dick long to find it.

His hands are pushing you back up almost instantly so he can slide you back down. You look anywhere but at the tens of faces in front of you, instead choosing to look at the wall on the opposite side of the table. You never thought these people were capable of being this quiet until now when your pussy makes an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as Steve tugs you back to his leaking tip and then allows gravity to suck you back down. You desperately bite your lips and try to focus on ignoring the way your insides are beginning to thrum with the excitement and stimulation; to show these brutes that you're better than them and aren't some animal of nature. But to no avail. His slimy precum mixes too well with yours, the rough skin of his hands digs into your thighs too well and the manner in which your petals rub against his cock when he lifts you yet again -now forming a momentum- before letting you slide in again is too much for you mask with nonchalance.

Indifference has never been among your strong suits.

“Tell me, my pretty” Steve begins again, his dark eyes now finding the young and hormonal pack of unsuspecting boys who clearly do not know better. “Have you ever had a cock like mine?” He says it in their own language so the foolish miscreants see, understand and learn the fact that you’re only his. You belong to him and he will go to war for you, not that a pack of rug rats will ever be a cause of worry for him. “Has anyone ever fucked you as good as I do?” He switches back to the language you understand, roughly fumbling for your jaw before he grabs it and bounces his hips into yours at the same time.

Your traitorous legs have begun to do what they always do; fuck yourself against him -if he hasn’t bound you, which he hasn’t- in whatever position he has you. You only realize that your breathing has become heavier when you open your mouth to answer. “Only you, my husband! Only you!” Your brain is running too fast for reason or reflection to catch up so you leave wondering why you answer him with the only words he has been able to teach you in his language to later. Your words are muffled as his fingers that grip the lower half of your face nearly slip in your mouth from the disordered urgency of the both of your actions.

“That's right” your mouth falls open and you begin to softly pant in that animalistic way that you detest when he makes you watch yourself in a mirror while fucking you sometimes. In your defense, it is always unintentional on your part; you barely even notice it while taking his fucking. And yet, it is inevitable due to the force he does it with. “Look at you; dutifully fucking yourself up and down your husband's cock like a bitch in heat” a twinge forms in your knuckles from how your fingers hold the edges of the table to aid the gliding of your fuck hole that now slams up and down his cock in a rhythm you're all too familiar with, the smacks of your bare ass slapping against his naked abdomen making appalling noises that you're too worked up to dread over right now. “And you're a bitch in heat for me, aren't you?” His fingers move down from your jaw to your throat. “Wanting to be bred over and over again until you're so full of my children that your little belly is round and heavy to the brim, hm?” In these moments, you tell him anything and everything that he wants to hear.

Steve knows it all too well.

And he loves it.

“Yes!” Your voice disappears midway from how he squeezes your windpipe. His hips meet yours midway now, the wetness of your cunt and the force of his thrusts causing for his balls to try and push past the tight boundary of your sexual cavern. “Yes! Yes! I am! Please!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his free hand finds your petals to play with. “Ohhh!”

“You want to be bred, don't you?” He rubs your drenched pussy lips while his hard cock pistons in and out of your sopping cunt. “Want to contribute…?” He chokes you once more and this time his fingers pinch one of your pussy lips punishingly at the same time and you cry out. “Provide your husband with a house full of heirs?” The oxygen in your mind depletes and your eyes flutter as a result, cheeks turning red and nerves becoming prominent on your glistening temples. Your horny yet defensive pussy finally relaxes around him a bit so it doesn't hurt his dick and he savours the moment by holding you by the curve between your legs and fucking into your form that gets limp by the moment to push you towards your first orgasm.

It always gets better after that.

For him, at least.

You don't choke him out so much then.

“Y- Yes!” When Steve finally lets go of your throat to let you breathe, you blubber out an an answer obediently once the light returns to your eyes. Your walls stiffen around him once more. But by then he has already worked himself closer to your womb. “Yes! Yes!” It is all your mind can muster.

“Good” he makes a point of taking both of your boobs in his hands and thoroughly massaging them to show off his ownership over you. “Now ask me to breed you” the fence of heat that has formed around your loins becomes tighter when his hands that previously fondled your clothed breasts slip under your gown -for Steve is too possessive to actually expose you to the eyes of others- and he softly rubs your tense sides a couple times before his fingers form pinches around your hard nubs.

“Please breed me!” Your voice is so loud and strained that its quality is nearly blood curdling. “Please breed me and s- stuff me full your children!” Your hands fly to grip his from over the dress as you throw your head back and slip from the edge of your anticipation, parrotting all the words he has taught you over the course of your marriage. “Oh GOD! Please!” Your back arches from the coming undone of the hot belt of expectation and scorching gratification spills from it, seeping down your legs in the form of a nearly unbearable electric feeling that transforms into a subzero energy when it reaches your toes that curl, causing them to feel as though they are freezing. “I need your b- babies so bad, hubby!”

Steve's own ears blush from the heat that courses through them in the form of adrenaline as he snorts, some of his blonde strands coming loose from the push and tug that he plays with your cunt. “Tell them” his balls ache from the strength it takes him not to fill you up right then. “Tell everyone that you want me to fill you up with my babies” since your sensitive body tries to curl and move away from the overstimulation, the older man wraps both of his hands around your thighs to keep you going. “Say it!” And he makes you say the words that he desires in the language of your spectators that look embarrassed for the first time since you got here.

Save for your husband's best men who look equal parts aroused and proud.

You want to cringe and be disgusted but your sensitive pussy is being pounded too hard for you to attempt a conjuring up of any dignity.

“Need hubby babies bad!” You cry out again from memory when Steve's thick seed begins to fill you up at last. “Oh, my God!” The feeling of his hot cum filling you up and painting every inch of your sensitive walls penetrates your already hazy mind and the warmth that steams out of the pearly liquid steams its way up to your womb, making you shudder at the feeling. Your opening tightens around him in protest of the overstimulation and it instead causes for a barrage of bitter-sweet electric sparks to explode through your abdomen in the form of a half post-climax orgasm. Your body grows tired.

But your insatiable is far from done.

“Flattering, but no” Steve pushes you against the table before standing up when he is done fucking his orgasm as deep as he can reach into you. “The father of your children will suffice” your eyebrows furrow at his words but the older man does not give you a chance to ponder over them because now he is hooking his hands under your thighs that your rapid and messy fucking has covered in both of your juices.

“W- What?!” Your vision is hazy and your mind dazed as you incoherently tap about. “What's— oh!” You wince from how much easier it is for him to move inside your worked open and much lubricated but torturously overstimulated walls now. “Oh! Oh…” Your hands blindly feel behind you to try and get him to stop. “Oh, no! No, please!” You cry out weakly, your upper body hanging low in the opposite direction from the exhaustion.

“No?” The older man darkly chuckles, paying no mind to your flailing. “You think you can say that to me?” One of his hands desert their post on your thighs to roughly grab at your hair. He hasn't forgotten what started all this. “You think you have the same rights as everyone else around here, wife?”

But you're scowling from the burning pain in your walls, mind hazy and unwise. “Stop! Stop!” Your puffy folds ache from how his stiff skin rubs against them as he moves in and out of you at a normal pace… for now. “It hurts, stop!”

“That is the part and parcel of having children” your body curves outwards as he pulls you further back and closer to himself by your hair. “And is that not why you're here?” His cocky tone along with the hungry and wondering eyes of the wildlings make you angry. “What you were spared for in the first place?” A twinkle in the eye of a man pisses you off and…

“It hurts, you old bastard!” Your young blood gets the better of you and your mouth runs before sense can catch up. “Stop, stop, stop it!” Since your hair holds you closer to him you manage to land a few smacks to his rock hard arms before you try to snake your fingers under his to pry off the hand that he coils around your thigh in a weak attempt to move away.

Steve only chuckles, clearly unfazed by your fighting as he bounces your smaller form up in the air with each thrust. “Did your mother not teach you anything, wife?” He lets go of your hair only to restrain both your arms on the small of your back. “Good girls never tell their husbands no” your body flops forward again and you've no choice but to face the long table full of people. “They lay down pretty with their legs spread and let their husbands fill them with their children and then they express their gratitude for being granted a family.” Though your mind is confused and rather disoriented from the influx of sensation, you can make out new additions to the crowd of your humiliation from the corners of your vision.

“Ugh!” You grunt from the rapid jabs he gives to your sore pussy, his firm hold nearly searing into your wrists. “I don't wanna have your stupid blonde babies!” Steve breathlessly lets out a real laugh at that. “Let go!”

“There” he can swear he will never tired of you breaking the little character of the obedient wife that you so naively think you have mastered only to break it when he has you all riled up like this. “Right there, easy now” his other hand leaves your lap and he pushes your head down and against the table in the most condescending manner imaginable. Steve has got you to expose yourself for the brat you are, no need for play anymore. “Now I make a bunny out of you” his dark eyes now meet with those of the boys sitting at the other end of the table and his use of their language is a silent message. The Leader knows how his wife is desired. And he doesn't appreciate it in the least. The young males all panic and look away, gulping to themselves and praying for their lives.

You try to struggle again, your lip curling in disdain and protest as you feel him fuck his cum right up your cervix. The bitter pleasure you get from it makes your head spin and your fingers and toes flex defensively. “Ooof!” Your cheek rubs against the table and you puff out your face to express how tense you feel down there.

“Brat” Steve shakes in silent mirth as he reaches for your ass with the hand that he was holding your face down with. “Don't you move a muscle.” You're too busy rocking over the table and being held down to try.

“Hubby, please!” You whine when one of his veins twitch deep up your walls and your knees shiver from the sensation. “Please!” Maybe if his cock wasn't so comically huge, it would have been easier to move past the rough friction of your raw, orgasm worn skins. But it is and so you are ready to abandon the dam that begins to form in your abdomen again if it means to avoid this pain. “Owwwiee!”

“Aw” Steve cooes as he now moves to a pace that falters your vision and causes for the great table to shake with each thrust that he gives you. “So small and sore, aren't we?” The spank he lands on your unsuspecting ass right after is the stark opposite of his tone. “Maybe we shouldn't act out so much when we are so weak and pathetic, huh, wife?”

“Oooof!” One of the shyer ladies get up before she carries her young son who stood next to the group of the young ones away and the realization of the fact that your spectators are all real people who see you everyday and will continue to do after this drips down your limbs like ice cold water. Your hips cannot help but clench from the embarrassment that you dully feel in some part of your mind way far at the back. “Hubby, please!” The spanks increase with each snap of his hips and though the turmoil between your legs takes up most of your sensory powers, your cheeks now begin to noticeably sting from the pain that builds from how the swings of his hand against your poor ass increase with each thrust.

“Please?” Steve muses like he isn't balls deep into you and fucking the literal daylights out of you like a crazed heathen. “Oh, but I thought I was a mean old bastard” of course, your pleas always only mean that you want more, according to the brute you are married to. They cannot mean anything else, apparently. “And you didn't want my stupid blonde babies” you grunt from the frustration and land a helpless fist on the table. You are in an uncomfortable tug of war between the mutilation of your sensory glands and the tall barrage of tight hot anticipation that cannot help but form in the base of your stomach again because of how hard and rough he fucks you.

Your husband's main man, Lloyd, laughs in a comically daft voice to tease you and be the insufferable asshole that he is. “You've got yourself a feisty little pup there, Steve” he is the only one who can refer to the blonde haired man by his name. Or maybe, he doesn't care to use the honorific and his usefulness backs him up. You wouldn't be surprised if the latter really is the case. “Don't you agree, my sweet?” He side hugs his own young bride who ironically is one of the sweetest and perhaps the only nice person in this entire village and Lloyd grins down at the girl whom you now notice is blushing furiously.

Before you can let the humiliation swallow you whole, Steve spreads your burning cheeks and chuckles at the sight he finds glistening and blinking up at him, the madenned hammering of his cock unceasing. “Look at this adorable little button of yours, darling” you are not personally familiar with any of the faces that witness you trying to pathetically crawl away when your devil of a husband begins to tickle your pucker so you realize it was actually not quite hitting you as bad as it does now when you become hyperaware of Rainie's gaze. If it weren't for how your eyes roll because of Steve's hot seed shooting deep up your cavern again and nearly searing into your very flesh this time around from the brutality of it all, you reckon you would have tried to hide. But now all you do is let out choked blubbers as your wide eyes sting from tears due to the sensory overload. “I think it's time we deflowered it, what do you think?”

Oh, no.

His cock is not something that you can handle in your ass without splitting all over the place!

“No answer? No?” It feels as though you are the one who is cumming and not Steve because of how good he is at wearing the mask of nonchalance. “Hm,” he roughly pulls you backwards by your hair before hooking an arm around your waist to keep you from trying to get away from how he toys with your trembling pucker. “Maybe we should let sweet Rainie decide for you, hm—?”

“OH, GOD!” You cannot help but scream over him.

He is too much.

Steve ignores your exclamation, thrusts delayed -more jab like- but so strong that his tip spears into your cervix with each thrust, thus causing for your head to spin from how he chooses to fuck out his orgasm. “She's your friend, isn't she?” Steve's beard gently stings the sweaty and teary skin of your jaw from how his mouth presses into your ear. “Aren't you, Rainie dear?”

Yep, you are never looking her in the eye ever again.

“Answer him, sunshine” Lloyd eggs his wife on and you notice through your cloudy vision that he is making her palm his own bulge. You nearly cringe back into Steve's chest from the obscenity of it all.

The girl, a new bride herself, is shy and small next to her own flesh boulder of a husband as she meekly peeks up at you through her lashes. “Y- Yes, sir. We are friends” her voice is barely audible and both your husbands chuckle.

If it weren't from how a dull orgasm rips itself apart somewhere deep between your loins, you would have felt angry.

It is like the assholes know that you're friends, and they're having their fun with it.

No wonder they are best mates.

“Good, good” you can feel Steve's cum splattering your thighs with each brutal jab, the sound and sprays of his shaft making a mess of your juices underneath your dress ample in its audibility. “So, do you think it's time your girlfriend's dirty little button was opened up, hm?” He keeps one hand on your pucker and reaches for your boob to grope with the other.

Rainie blushes again and furiously lowers her head the moment her eyes connect with yours. Though you don't know it, her own has been deflowered not too long ago and she isn't sure what response would be favourable by you, so that and the embarrassment of the Leader questioning her for something like that about his wife when she is on amiable terms with the girl makes her choose silence for as long as allowed. And her own husband cockily leaning into her and mansplaining into her ear how it would work for you by comparing it with what he did to her pretty ass only makes her curl further.

“Shy little thing, isn't she, my precious?” So your husband turns his unwelcome attention back to you, bending the both of your bodies forwards so he can smack your asshole with the back of his hand easier, the impact making you rock violently forward. “Maybe you should learn some manners from her, huh?” The howls you let out from getting your pucker pinched and hit is something you would rather not narrate. All you choose to disclose of that ordeal is that sobs echo in the hall, another orgasm rips out of you and you are sure your body releases more liquid than normal for an average orgasm. “Look at how polite and nice she is, hm? While all you want to do is to curse your husband and be an ungrateful little sloth” it sounds as though a newfound annoyance causes him to grit his teeth towards the end and the tip of his fingers finds recourse in seeking for itself a passage past the tight barrier of your unwilling button as a result.

And so your mouth begins to run in the desperate way he loves. “N- No, no, no hubby! No!” You vehemently shake your head as you feel your knees start to buckle from the exhaustion. “I- I didn't mean it!” The bearded corners of his mouth pull into a deep smirk. He knows its coming, and he loves it.

“You didn't?” How can he not when he is the one who trained you to it and taught you the words to say during.

“No! No!” Your voice comes out child-like from your mind's succumbing to its defeat. For the day, at least. “I d- didn't!”

Steve is a jackhammer in how he fucks his children into you and works towards giving you more. “Oh, I see” now he speaks to you like an elder speaking to a young one, like you are no older than five winters. “Then, will you tell me why you said such naughty words to your husband who does so much for you?” He knows you're small now and so he chooses his words accordingly.

After all, it is Steve's meticulous tailoring of your mind and body which brings you to act out this specific sequence.

Nothing less, nothing more.

Just this.

A shrew tamed into a compliant wife equipped with the mind of a babe.

He may never admit it outright simply because it goes against his very code of life but Steve knows in his heart of hearts that it is this very push and pull you put up in your own passive little way that keeps him alert and your marriage interesting.

Addictive.

“Is ’cause— hnnng, cause—!” He pulls both of your bodies back up with the intention of turning you to face him but he chooses not to do it just yet. He wants you, those silly boys and everyone else who suspects that his judgement grows soft because of his fancy for your youthful beauty and adorable personality, to hear it. Steve can always pull you right back down if wants. Your reins will always be in a hand's reach to him. Just because he lets you sneak in your foolish ways sometimes doesn't mean you've conquered his nature-gifted better sense.

“Because, what?” Everything in life calls for balance and so each time your misbehavior that you think you hide so well from him begins to rise above a level he deems no longer amusing, he is there to hammer it down.

Quite literally.

“Because I am j- just an i- impudent,” Steve grunts and moans, feeling his cock twitch from how you always mispronounce imprudent when you are in this state. He taught you that word and true to your little baby self and mind, you can never get yourself to say it right. “Little wife and I am a d- dumby—”

“Fuck…” Steve feels a drop of cold sweat trickle down his back from your little vocabulary. He feels himself pant from how hard he fucks you, his windpipe alight from the friction caused by the air he heaves in with each desperate inhale.

You are a proper trouble; something he has never had before, and he loves it.

“— D- Dumby sloth who dunno any real worries besides e- eating and b- being spoilt b- by my lovu hubbsy—” your tongue is kinetic jelly between your teeth and Steve has begun to moan from how fucked stupid you sound. “So I get shtoopid and u- ungateful” Steve cannot contain it anymore. In a fevered and desperate confusion of how to express the thunderstorm you cause in his head, he slaps your hair away, causing for some of the flowers to go flying about, and sinks his teeth into your flesh, growling so deep into your skin that you feel the vibrations cause ripples in your blood. Perhaps that is what Steve yearns to taste. “B- But husby always fixes” your head goes limp against his as he sucks your skin like a crazed animal for you lose a track of how long. Your vision and hearing bolts away from your comprehensive faculties like a bullet train and your body gets sucked into the vacuum of your husband's beastly grip. You are just a lifeless doll rocking in whichever direction and manner he pleases.

Next time your brain catches on with your reality, your body has been placed under his with your back against the table. You faintly notice when your dress begins to get wet that splashes of mead cover it due to your brutish husband's depraved madness.

“Look at me, hey” he pats your incoherent face until your wandering gaze settles on him, teary eyes distant. “This is the face that you will see in those of your children, and children you shall have until this residence cannot contain any more” his promise echoes in your buzzing ears like the bestowing of an ultimate truth upon you by some powerful deity. “This is the face you will look up at as you spread your legs,” his tip is so swollen, raw and hot against your worn skin that you can feel it even in this state. Your features scrunch from the discomfort. “This is the face you will kiss and cherish” his fingers find your throat again and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he puts pressure on your windpipe. “And this is the face that you will look at until you breathe your last” he holds you until you are on the verge of losing consciousness, though letting go only to stifle the gasp you let out to resume your breathing with a hot sealing kiss.

Your muscles twitch and your body spasms in the position he has you in. Laxness washes over your limbs and you begin to violently shake from the dull and yet stinging quakes of sensation that bloom through your whole form.

For some dark, twisted and depraved reason, you cum from the helplessness of your situation and it is present in Steve's amused and proud smirk that the knowledge is not lost on him. Swiping an arm around you from behind with an air of satisfaction, he collects your limp body closer to his and walks off to your chambers with your drenched sexes still connected, leaving a crowd of embarrassed, curious, satisfied as well as tamed spectators in his wake.

You surrender yourself to him and close your eyes as your body collapses on top of his. Your mind barely works but you know one thing— fact as clear as day; you are not making it out of this without at least one child on the way.

And there isn't a single thing you can do about it.

. . .

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lavendermunson · 7 months

Text

mine - steve harrington

summary you get separated from the love of your life after spending the best night together, would the universe bring you back to him? based on this request, thank you so much!

cw college!steve, college!reader. fluff, angst and more angst then more fluff. modern times!! allusions to sex. reader wears glasses sometimes.

w.c 9.2k

a/n created a playlist for this one (i struggled a little bit and the songs helped) thank you to @stveharringtn and @ihatepeanutss for reading the early chapter and motivating me to continue ily! NO PROOFREAD BECAUSE IM EXCITED

dividers by @saradika

I. Left a small town and never looked back.

Due to your parents' jobs, you had to move frequently, and the longest you stayed in one place was three years. You were so used to this, following the single rule for yourself: never get attached.

One problem, it was impossible not to fall for Steve Harrington.

You met Steve in Hawkins, and the three years you spent together were magical. Talking late at night, going to the movies, and hanging out by the lake. Holidays were always spent with him, you invited him to your house, and your parents loved him. Even though your little brother was only 8 years old, he knew Steve was important to the family.

The last year of high school was just around the corner. You’ve talked to Steve about graduating together, going to college, and spending the rest of your lives together. Watching each other through all the ups and downs of adulthood, you knew Steve was going to stay with you no matter what, he would be there for you, and you would be there for him. It was all a perfect dream, you’d have someone to celebrate your victories and cheer you up when the inevitable bad luck followed you around.

That dream was crushed when your parents told you they had to move again. You were heartbroken, and even more so because you were going to be separated from your favorite person. It was the first time you'd broken the rule, you got attached to Steve, and you fell in love with him.

The news broke him. He couldn’t sleep for the rest of the week, he wanted to be with you all the time, like you promised.

———

Before leaving Hawkins, you decided to confess your feelings for him. It felt wrong to pack that secret into your suitcase. Steve felt the same, he liked you too, but he didn’t want to admit he was in love with you yet. He decided to make your last day at Hawkins the best day you’ve ever had.

The first stop was the diner outside of town to eat burgers, fries, and milkshakes like you always do. At your favorite booth, this time it had a vase with flowers in the center of the table and a beanie babie.

“This is the one I saw in the magazine.” You take the white stuffed bear, it has a red ribbon around his neck and an embroidered red heart.

“In case you need someone to hug,” he says, looking at the laces of his shoes and holding back his tears.

“Smells good! I’m so hungry.” You saw the way his smile faded, changing the subject was better than crying already. You had to enjoy the night.

While sipping from your freshly made milkshakes— stealing the cherry on top of his milkshake as usual—and watching Steve go over the old jukebox to play your favorite songs, the pocket of his jeans ended up empty from using all the coins he had.

“Get up! We have to dance.” Steve stands up, reaching for your hand.

He had to choose wisely for the next song, it was the last coin he had, so of course Be My Baby, by The Ronettes, was playing. He took your hand, squeezing it, and placed his free hand on your back to keep you closer. You rest one of your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat fast for you.

Everyone in the diner was watching you, but you didn’t care. You were in the arms of your boy, your love, and it was the last night with him before a while. You had to dance like nobody was watching.

Leaving the checkered floor and the red booths, the second stop was the theater, cuddling while watching ‘Before Sunrise’ . It's one of your favorite movies, and it came back to the big screen for its anniversary.

Both of you get the feeling that it is the perfect movie to watch on a day like this. It was perfect because you don’t know what’s going to happen with you two in the future, just like Celine and Jesse. Your love for each other looks like that, it feels like that, and the best part is that it’s real, not something written for a movie. You aren’t acting or performing. You are feeling it.

You feel so lucky you didn’t meet him for just one night, you had spent so much time with Steve. The endless walks around the park and picking flowers in spring while he holds the basket and you place your favorites on it so you can take them home. The fun summers, hanging out by the pool, and eating a lot of ice cream—one of those years you had free ice cream thanks to Steve working at Scoops Ahoy. You spent the entire summer making fun of his tiny sailor suit, not wanting to admit he looked really good in it.

Fall was always fun, dressing up for Halloween, and joining the kids to trick or treat, so at the end, you can steal some of their best candy bars. The adorable winter, playing in the snow and getting your nose red, drinking hot cocoa and marshmallows while watching Christmas movies.

Everything comes back to your mind like you were watching your movie. Feeling safe and loved with Steve’s arms around you. You never fought before, nothing went bad, but everything was over. For a while.

Steve holds your hand while you walk through the parking lot. The night sky is decorated with stars, so big and bright. He interlocks his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as you walk to his BMW.

The last stop is Lover’s Lake. He parks his car in the usual spot—your favorite spot. It’s the best place to feel the magic of the water mixed with the light of the moon. A reminder that you exist on the same planet, even if the miles come between you.

The radio starts to play ‘Don’t you forget about me’. The song was perfect. You take a deep breath. This is a moment you will remember forever.

Both sitting in the hood of his car, he hugs you, shielding you from the cold breeze, and kisses the top of your head while your back rests against his chest. The tears start to spill from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. You can't hold the sobs, your chest is giving up.

“Hey, hey!” He turns you around, softly cupping your face between his hands and rubbing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Don’t you dare forget about me,” you whisper, as if the trees were going to be disturbed by your sobs.

“I won’t, I’ll call you every day. But I am going to miss you so much,” he whispers back.

“I’m scared, Stevie,” you sob, tangling your arms around his neck. “What if we can’t make it?”

“We will, we got this. The love I have for you is stronger than anything else, we won’t let the distance break us.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise”

Pressing his thumbs against your cheeks, he gets close to you. Your lips touch, and it feels like thousands of fireworks light up inside you. You feel one of his hands slide down your arm, and it makes you shiver. His hand rests on your waist and gives it a little squeeze. You jump closer to him than before, and you can feel his lips turn into a grin.

It wasn’t your first kiss with him. You kissed sometimes while playing spin the bottle or when Steve wanted to teach you how to kiss better.

“We will get through this. I'll see you again, and we can live the rest of our lives together.”

He kisses you again, and you open your mouth as he pushes your face to the side with his thumb. He slides his tongue to join yours and get more of the way you taste, honey, strawberries and cherries. Steve is being patient, taking his time brushing his tongue against yours and humming at how good it feels.

This kiss felt more magical, it made your insides bubbly, and your cheeks got warmer. But inside you, the clock was ticking, you had to savor this moment in case the universe turned against you again.

He breaks the kiss, trying to slow his breath. You do the same, opening your eyes slowly.

“I won’t do anything, not tonight." His voice is soft, but the tone is deeper. He feels a knot in his throat. “But next time, I promise I will make you feel so good.”

“I know, next time and the others. There’s only a couple of months left for summer break, and we will see each other again.”

“We will, baby. Now kiss me before I fall to the floor, you look so pretty tonight as you always do.”

“You are beautiful, Stevie.”He kisses you again, not getting enough of you. He kissed you before you went inside the house and he would’ve kissed you a thousand times more if he knew it was going to be the last time.

II. Wondering why we bother with love if it never lasts.

You were disconnected and heartbroken by the time you spent the first week of your last year of high school at a different school. Steve picked a few shifts a week at the local coffee shop after school, always with Robin by his side.

Hawkins felt so empty without you. Every time he saw a happy couple smiling, kissing, or hugging, he felt nauseous and jealous. His friends knew how he felt, they missed you too, but they never stopped calling you.

The only thing that kept him going were your calls, you called every single night. Tell him about your day, your new school, and your new friends. He tells you about school, work, Robin, and the kids. It was good, he loved hearing your voice and watching you through his screen.

“I can’t believe it! I told you! Steve Harrington’s first A+ essay, and without my help. I feel a little wounded, you don’t need me at all!”

He felt so proud of himself. You were the last one to know about it but you are the most excited one. Even more excited than him.

“You are a great tutor, all those tips and seeing my practice essays marked with a pink glittery pen helped me a lot”

“I'm so proud of you, you are capable of anything I know!”

“Honey…” Steve’s worried face makes your heart sink.

“Yes?”

“I’m always going to need you. I can’t live without you.”

You press both of your hands against your chest as if that were going to soothe your pain. The damage you caused him is evident, you shouldn’t have broken that stupid rule.

“I miss you, Stevie. I can’t do this without you.”

“I miss you too, honey. And you can, you have me here. Always”

Steve feels his head heavier each minute, the long hours at the coffee shop kill him.

“We should go to sleep, yeah?” he says, noticing your sleepy face.

“We should. Good night. Call me tomorrow!”

“Please, I don’t know if I can survive without hearing your voice”

You get closer to your camera, blowing him a kiss.

“I’ll annoy you with my voice every night, honey!”

“I’d love that baby. Good night,” he says, blowing a kiss back.

When you hang up, he tosses his laptop to the floor. It falls on the pile of unwashed clothes he has.

“Weird,” he says to himself, looking at his laptop resting on the clothes. He takes a look around his room. It’s a mess, he makes a mental note to clean it, and he can’t stress over it right now.

Steve lays with his back against the mattress. He remembers the way you brought your hands up to your chest. He does the same, hoping to understand why you did it.

His warm palms rest against his chest, now he knows. He feels it. Steve applies a bit of pressure to his chest, closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep.

So much for trying, it felt like maybe five minutes had passed, and when he glanced at his clock, it was six a.m. His alarm was about to go off, and he had to go downstairs, make breakfast, and get on his way to pick Robin up to go to school.

That’s when he lets out a sob. Time does pass without you, the world doesn’t stop, and he gets even more scared than before.

Don’t you forget about me.

He grabbed his phone, clicking on his texts. You’ve already said good morning to him.

‘Good morning baby. I'll miss you forever. Have a nice day! Love you”

That’s when he takes a moment to reply.

‘Good morning, hope you slept well. I love you too.”

And then he gets out of bed to spend another day without you by his side. Knowing you are slipping through his fingers already.

———

Three weeks later.

The calls stopped being frequent, sometimes you were too tired, or sometimes he was too tired.

“I have to go, I'm exhausted. Can I call you tomorrow?” you ask him.

Steve had to ignore the arrow that just shot through his heart, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. The more he talked to you, the more he missed you. When he knew you weren’t going to make it for the summer break he felt his heart break, every time he woke up he was already crying.

This broke your heart too, not being able to see him, or visit your friends. It felt like some strange and strong force was keeping you away and pushing you farther.

“Of course, honey. Sweet dreams”

“Sweet dreams, Stevie.”

He closes his laptop after you hang up, tossing it aside. The pile of clothes seems to be bigger. He swears to do it tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Whenever he feels like he is alive.

Four months later.

The rush hour at the coffee shop ends up killing Steve’s back, and his feet are burning. To his surprise, his parents are home.

Can this day get any worse? Yes, you haven’t texted him back since yesterday.

"Steve, are you still wasting your time at that damn coffee shop?” His dad shouts he doesn’t have time for this. “Steve?”

He hears his dad’s heavy steps behind him. He catches Steve at the first step of the stairs.

“Didn’t you hear me? Say something!”

“I’m not wasting my time, I'm saving up for college,” Steve whispers. He can feel his dad’s warm breath against his face, and he can smell the whiskey too.

“College? You are going to work for me, right?”

“No?”

“Then why go to college in the first place?”

Steve pushes his dad away, and his mother joins them.

“It’s clear, John.” she says.

“Say it, Steve.”

“To get the fuck away from you, that’s why,” Steve spits out. His eyes were burning, and tears were threatening to fall.

He gets away from them, locking himself in his room. He doesn’t mind looking at his phone or picking up his laptop, he just wants to fall asleep and get this over with. It has been such a long day.

Six months later.

It’s been a long time since you’ve talked to each other.

“Are you tired?” You ask, and he has been rubbing his eyes for the third time now. “You don’t have to hang up, carry me to your bed.”

Steve leaned his head to the side, just as a confused puppy does.

“C’mon, I’ll read you a story so you can fall asleep. Like old times.”

“Are you sleeping late?”

“I have assignments to finish, I need to catch up with a few classes because I fell behind.”

“You’ll do great, honey. You are the smartest person I know!”

“Steve Harrington, you are the smartest person I know. We are a couple of months away from college and i'm really excited”

“Me too honey, it sucks you couldn’t come here for summer break”

You will see each other, you will.

Steve shakes his head with a smile plastered on his face, holding the laptop in his hands. He lets himself lie under his sheets, fixing his pillow and resting his head on it.

"Are you ready?” you ask him, sitting on your desk and getting comfortable for a long night.

“Ready, no scary tales, please!"

“I promise! Close your eyes now!”

Steve takes the last glance at you, his fingers reaching to touch his screen as if he were touching your face. But he can’t, you are too far away now and it kills him.

“Goodnight”

The bubbly feeling in your chest goes away when you don’t hear a nickname. No honey, no baby.

“Goodnight!” You wait until his eyes are closed. “And we begin, once upon a time."

Steve falls asleep before getting to know what the story is about, he was so tired and this is the first time he has slept more than three hours.

You close your laptop after watching him turn to the other side. You are trying to return your attention to your assignments, but the only thing you can feel is your heart breaking again. The hope you once had is now fading away. You are managing to live without him, but you don’t want to.

Steve regrets it. He regrets falling asleep. This time he didn’t wake up seeing your face, he didn’t get to hear your bedtime story, and he didn’t get to tell you how much he loved you. And he regrets it so much because it was the last time he heard your voice.

III. And every time I look at you it’s like the first time

Two years later.

Steve had a hard time finishing high school, but he did. Later, he had to retake a year, but he saved up some money with Robin to move to college. After jumping up and down and celebrating with their friends their acceptance letters, they got into the college dorms for the first year, but that went very badly because they couldn’t be roommates and all the noise from the dorm building was constantly giving them a headache.

He saw Nancy and Jonathan when they all came back from college over the summer break, hanging up with them was the best. They helped him and Robin choose the best apartment outside of college, it was close to the new coffee shop they were working on and close to their buildings. He never saw you again, you were too busy to travel, and he was too. Mindlessly forgetting about each other and not meeting again hurt less.

When he had to retake a year, he hesitated to call you. He was ashamed of himself, you were supposed to go to the same college in the same year.

When he finally got his acceptance letter, he didn’t call you. Steve had a feeling you got into college and that your life was going well. He knew he was right.

But it had a good outcome, Steve retook his senior year and moved in with his best friend to start a new chapter in his life. A life that he wanted to enjoy, free from the pressure of his parents and the small town that made him feel so small.

Their first year wasn’t easy. Steve spent most of his time in his dorm, and Robin did too. They didn’t go to parties and didn’t seem too excited about meeting new people.

He felt like a total stranger like he didn’t belong there. He picked the same coffee shop he was working in to hang out, he picked the public library over the school library because it looked terrifying.

Steve spent most of his weekends and days off studying, he was at the top of his class. Whenever he wrote an essay, it reminded him of you, but not as a sign of hope, just a reminder of his small town years.

Robin spent most of her weekends traveling to Hawkins to meet her girlfriend, Chrissy. Taking Steve’s car and cleaning it for him as a thank you.

Steve didn’t meet anyone else, he didn’t want to get attached. If anyone leaves, what’s the point? He was only close to two of his classmates, that was enough for him.

———

“Do you know who’s moving in?” your roommate asks, Diana was always aware of every gossip around college. It was your second year being her roommate, she slowly became your best friend.

“No, who?” You ask, not really wanting to know but giving her satisfaction again.

“A new couple! I hope they aren’t as loud as the last ones.”

“Please, I need to buy new headphones just in case.”

Diana laughs, walking towards her room to place some of the new boxes she moved in. You asked if she wanted help, but she didn’t because her brand new date was going to join her.

You decided to head up to the public library, knowing you had never been there and wanting to explore a new world. It was a couple of blocks away so you had to take the bus.

———

Steve and Robin were driving around their new neighborhood, looking for their new apartment. They were singing the songs on the radio, even if Robin didn’t know most of them because her music taste was original. But Steve knew every one of the trendy songs.

They stopped at a red light. Robin got distracted by two dogs ‘kissing’ each other. Steve looked away with a face of disgust, and that’s when his eyes fell on you.

He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, were you really there? Was he hallucinating? Maybe the smell of coffee is doing some damage to his brain.

But it was you, wasn’t it? without the signature choker, without the thousands of bracelets, and without the red lipstick always staining his shirts. Then it wasn’t you. You had glasses now, a gold chain around your neck, and your hair was slightly lighter.

The bus blocks his view; he wants to scream at it to move, and when it does, you disappear—or the hallucination he had of you disappeared—the honk of the car behind him makes him jump, the green light is on, and he has to move.

“Steve! Are you okay?” Robin shouts, scanning Steve’s face. He looks pale, confused, and scared.

“I think I just saw a ghost,” he says, looking over Robin and then the road ahead.

“You are only nervous, the apartment will be good, don't worry. If they scam us, we have Chrissy to defend us in court.”

“Yeah, stop it lovebird. We are here.”

The apartment buildings look so tall, almost intimidating. Steve drives around looking for the parking lot, and when he finds it, he and Robin take a moment to process it.

"I'm scared too, but we should go in. The moving truck will be here, and we will have a lot to do,” Robin says, taking Steve’s hands and giving them a light squeeze. “We got this”

“Yeah, we should go in now.”

They go over to their apartment, meet their landlord, and get their keys. The moving truck comes a couple of hours earlier, and they move in their new stuff after cleaning the apartment.

A couple of empty boxes and a lot of wrapping paper later, they are done. They only need the heavy couch.

“Even if I help you, we won’t be able to do it”

“I know! I’m thinking”

Steve and Robin are stressed now. Steve’s hair is disheveled already, and Robin’s mascara is smudged around her eyes. They had a long drive, and now they are so tired of getting the apartment ready.

“We should just knock at our neighbors. Their screams stopped.”

“Yeah, I should buy new headphones for that.”

He points in the hallway. Robins walks out of the apartment and knocks on the door. After a few knocks, the door opens, and Steve joins them.

“Steve? You are Nick’s friend, right? I saw you with him the other day,” a guy asks, introducing himself as Eric.

“Uhh yes, Nick! Nice to meet you."He shakes his hand. “This is Rob, my friend.”

“Nice to meet you!” Eric says, “This is my..."

“I’m Diana, nice to meet you guys,” she waves at them.

“So, we need help moving on our couch. Could you help us?” Robin asks.

“Please, we are a great team, but that couch is very heavy,” Steve says. “What if you help us, and we invite you to eat some pasta? I saw a new Italian restaurant a few blocks away.

“Sure, we can help!” Diana says.

The four of them carry the couch with ease into Steve and Robin’s apartment, they thank their new neighbors, and they all high five, looking proud of themselves.

“Thank you again, guys, we should go. I'm starving!” Robin smiles at them, and they all nod but Diana.

“Can I invite my friend? She can meet us there,” Diana asks. They all nod, but Eric.

“No way! She hates me,” he says, shaking his head, taking Diana’s hand, and stopping her from going into their apartment.

“I told you it would take time. She is protecting me,” she says, dragging Eric with her into her apartment. “We will see you guys in a minute.”

“Sure, take your time,” Steve says. Their neighbors leave and shut the door behind their backs.

When they are gone, he wraps his hands around Robin’s neck. He looks over the apartment and smiles.

“We made it,” he says.

“We made it!” She says back, hugging his waist and rubbing his back.

They break the hug after a few minutes, looking over the almost finished apartment. There’s some stuff left to unpack.

“Wait for Chrissy to see this, she is going to love it.”

“Is she coming? Tomorrow?” Steve asks, looking at his friend and her lovesick smile.

“Yes! I think I'll finally ask her the question"

“Already? Isn't it too soon?”

“Dingus, when you know, you know. Life is short, we can’t lose time stressing over everything,” she says, rubbing his shoulders. “You will find someone, maybe not, you know who, or maybe you will. Let time choose.”

He knew Robin was talking about you. Even if Steve moved on and got his shit together, he was still missing you and the part of him you took with you. No matter how many dates he had, how many times Hopper talked to him. He wanted you, something far from impossible.

“You should write that on a note and put it in the fridge." They both laugh. "I'm very proud of you.”

“Don’t make fun of me, or you will lose your best man spot. I will give it to Eddie.” Robin gets a napkin out of a box and cleans her mascara.

“Hey! Who used to drive you everywhere and still does?”

“I'm joking!”

“I know,” he says, giving her a pat on the back. “Good luck with your proposal.”

“I still need a ring, not all of us carry our grandmother’s rings everywhere we go.”

“Shut up! I'll help you get a ring.”

“Yes!”

They high five again, and they hear knocks on the door. They see their neighbors again.

“My friend isn’t coming, I think she is with her boyfriend. But we can go now!”

“Yay! Sorry about your friend."Robin gets closer to Diana, leaving Steve behind with Eric.

“Aren’t you together?” he asks.

“No, we are friends. Platonic with a capital P!” Steve replies, walking to the door and joining the girls.

“Cool, maybe you can date Teddy and smooth the anger out of her,” Eric says.

“Teddy?” Steve asks, walking to the parking lot.

“Oh, Di’s best friend,” he says, pointing at Diana. “She has this weird ass white teddy bear, and since then, I call her Teddy.”

“Oh, funny,” Steve says. A weird white teddy bear? No, no, it can’t be. His heart pounds harder against his chest, and he gets back to that night. The diner, the flowers, the beanie baby, and then someone who looked like you at the bus stop.

This can’t be real, he won’t get his hopes high again.

“Are you okay, man? You look scared,” Eric asks Steve, stopping him after he puts the key on his BMW. “Can you drive?”

“Yeah, I can. Don’t worry,” Steve says, his free hand over his chest. “It’s just something that happens.”

“He sees ghosts!” Robin shouts, making everyone laugh.

“We should walk guys, it isn’t that far,” Diana adds.

“Yeah, we could use some fresh air,” Robin says.

They all walk to the restaurant, enjoying a fun night. All of them get the feeling they’ll be close, but tonight they treat each other as strangers. Not sharing all but funny stories and college adventures.

———

When Diana gets home, you are already there, she walks over to the couch to wake you up and help you get to bed.

“Did you talk to Jake?”

“He picked me up from the library, we didn't-"

“Another time will come."

You hum, walking with her to your room. She closes the door, and you walk towards your bed, put your pajamas on, and slip into bed. You try to sleep, trying to keep all the midnight-crushing thoughts away, with the BMW in the parking lot on your mind, it looks very familiar.

———

It’s only 8 a.m, and you sit at home, eating your oatmeal bowl with strawberries, bananas, and a cup of coffee you’ve made yourself. You point to the cup you made for Diana, it has been sitting there for a few minutes. Maybe she wanted a cold brew instead of a nice hot cup.

“One is Rob, and the other... I don’t remember.”

“Di! You are really bad with names.”

“Are you sure you don’t want ice on your coffee?” you joke.

“No, and yeah, I was a little stoned too, that’s why I don’t remember well.”

“That’s always going to cost you, babe.”

“I know, but I can introduce them later! We are all going to a party, and Rob will pick us up after work because the girl had to see her girlfriend.” She chugs her cup of coffee and puts her jacket on.

“Are you sure his name is Robert?”

“No, it’s Rob!” She still looks unconvinced, but you leave it. “Anyway, is Jake picking you up?”

“I don’t know, we aren’t really on speaking terms.”

Jake was your boyfriend a couple of weeks before he asked you for a break, and you haven’t “fixed it." He picked you up from the library yesterday, and the whole ride home was quiet and uncomfortable, but something tells you it isn't going to last.

“Call him! He is good for you.”

“I’m not sure about that, but I’ll see you later then.”

“I’ll see you later, babe!”

“Be careful!”

———

You finish washing the dishes and go back to your room to get ready for the party. Minutes later, Diana and Eric show up to drive you to the house. It’s the first party of the semester, and everyone seems pretty excited about it except you. You know if you see Jake again, he will probably break up with you, rip off the band-aid, and go to the girl who has been hanging out with him at the gym.

But you go, not wanting to miss out and excited to see some of your friends who arrived in town. It might not be the best night, but at least you’ll have a cup of cranberry juice with vodka to survive.

You arrive at the party early, not wanting to talk to anyone, yet you get closer to the table in the middle of the dining room and make yourself a cape cod. When it’s done, you get to the living room and sit on the couch, watching as people come over, and some of them wave at you and say hi before going for their drink.

Jake arrives with a girl by his side, He gets closer to her ear to whisper something, and she turns around as he walks to you.

“Can we talk?”

“You are going to break up with me, aren’t you?” You pinch your eyebrows together.

“Let me explain.”

He sits on the arm of the couch you are sitting on, so close to you. You can already hear his words muffling and how sorry he is about all of it, making up excuses to let you know it’s not your fault he is doing this and the two of you should end your relationship now. Avoid telling the truth and spinning around the subject, reminding you of all the good moments but also all the fights and “breaks” you had.

You look at him through your eyelashes, your tears rolling down your cheeks. Your now ex-boyfriend pinches your chin with his fingers, not letting your gaze fall to your lap or the cup you hold in your hand. He whispers “I’m sorry” thousands of times more, and you refuse to move, feeling the warmth of his fingers against your face for the last time. Then he leaves you alone to find his date, and you wish the earth could swallow you whole.

———

When Steve gets to the party with Robin and Chrissy by his side, he lets the two of them look for a place while he gets their drinks. The house is so tiny that everyone is squeezing each other and bumping into each other on the way to other rooms. Everything smells like alcohol and weed, and even the floor is sticky, but after all, Steve manages to get to the dining room and look for the red solo cups. He takes one and pours tequila into it. He drinks it, feeling the burn down his throat as he keeps his eyes closed. He needs more of these to survive the night.

He looks around, recognizing some people he used to see around in his first year, some of them are customers in the coffee shop he works in. When his head looks over to the living room, he sees the girl from the bus stop, the one who looks like you.

Steve gets even more confused as you chug your drink, the solo cup covering your face. He turns his head away from the view, even if it’s not you, his mind betrays him.

Where’s the real you? What are you doing right now? Do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend? A child? A cat? Are you married?

The question that hurts more is the one he used to think about almost every night. Would he see you again?

He tries to enjoy the party as soon as he sees the girl leave. He misses watching Diana run after you and try to comfort you.

Your friend takes you home, and Steve stays until the party is over, and he is a bit more sober to take Robin and Chrissy back to their apartment.

———

“Robin? Why did you leave so soon?” Steve asks Robin over the phone, while he tosses empty boxes and bags around.

“We are getting you breakfast! Jesus, what’s your problem?”

“I’m hungover, and I forgot I have to send this email before twelve, but I can’t find my laptop charger, and I can’t find yours either!”

“Shit, I took mine because Chrissy needed my laptop, but I'm sure yours is in your room. We unpacked everything.”

“Fuck! I’ll call you back.”

“Ask Diana for one!”

Stressed out, Steve hangs up the phone before listening to Robin’s last words. Of course, he can ask his neighbor for a favor, and he knows Diana is nice.

He gets out of his apartment, and a few steps later, he gets in front of the door. He knocks a lot of times to get Diana’s attention, or maybe Eric’s. Steve doesn’t remember if they got back here from the party, but it’s worth trying.

As the door opens, he takes a step forward. “Hey! My laptop charger broke, and I have to send this very important email-" He takes a deep breath, not believing who is in front of them. “What-”

“It’s you,” he whispers, feeling a knot in his throat and rubbing his clammy hands together.

“It’s me” You rub your eyes one more time, getting rid of the blur on your eyes from being woken up. “Steve?” Your heart starts to beat against your chest so fast that you swear it’s hurting you.

Steve stares at you, it’s like the first time he saw you all those years ago. He didn’t believe in love at first sight until he felt his body giving up and just yearning for you. He feels it all again, you look even more beautiful than before, but with your signature heavy gaze.

“I'm sorry if I’m interrupting, I can just...“

“No? no. Uh, come in, let me find my charger.”

This is not how you imagined seeing him again. The last time you dreamt about him, you were seeing him for the first time at the Hawkins airport, You ran to him, and he caught you in his arms, kissing every inch of your face. And now, with your heart beating faster than ever and your feet carrying you to your room, you can’t help but feel like you are having a nightmare.

You hurry up, find your charger, and run back to Steve.

“Here, you can keep it. I have two of them,” you say. He still looks at you with his mouth slightly open and his eyes studying every part of your face.

Keep it. He knows you are doing this because you are nice, but a part of you still recognizes all the love you once had for him. Or have, because it never faded away. It’s still your Steve, slightly older and with a confused expression on his face.

He takes the charger from your hands, your fingers touching him for a couple of seconds. When you finally lock eyes with him, you can see his glassy eyes while yours look the same. He didn’t want to believe it was you, you were so close all this time.

“I thought i’d never see you again,” you whisper, almost inaudible, but he can hear it. As if its ears were trained to hear even the lowest tone of your voice.

But the air feels tense, awkward. He doesn’t say anything, and you stand in front of him like before, frozen in your place as a wave of anxiety washes you over. You stare at each other, trying to avoid all these feelings rushing through your veins.

“I need to send this email, I’ll be right back.”

He goes back to his apartment, leaving you and your overwhelming feelings alone. You close the door to your apartment and take some time to process everything. Steve is here, your Steve. The boy you once called the love of your life, the only boy you’ve ever loved.

You weren’t sure you were going to see him again. You gave up on it a few months ago, knowing it would take a miracle to see him again. And he was so close to you all this time.

When you hear the knock on the door again, you open it faster this time. Steve stands up in front of you, watching your tears roll down your cheeks. He wraps his arms around your body, hugging you so tightly as if you were going to disappear. Your arms hug his torso, letting your head fall against his chest for a second before your sighs turn into sobs.

“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Steve whispers, convincing himself to not let you go. He fears the alarm will go off and he will have to wake up from his dream.

“I know, it feels like a dream, please don’t let go,” you say, as if you were reading his mind all this time.

“I won’t”

Steve rests his chin on your head, letting his own tears fall. You stay in the hug for a long time, feeling his warmth against your body, and his arms push you closer to him. You dig your fingers in his back, wanting to feel him more and wishing for this not to be some sick joke.

He places one of his hands on your head, kissing your forehead, before leaning back and searching for your face.

“Hi,” you say as you look at him, tears on his face just like yours.

“Hi,” he smiles, slightly. You do the same, looking at every inch of his face. Remembering all the moles your mind seemed to forget with the time.

You admire each other, letting your mind take you back to Hawkins and all those years you spent together.

“I missed you so much,” he says, slicing the awkward silence with a knife, now rubbing your back and trying to get you relaxed. As your sobs stop, you let go of him and invite him inside.

“I missed you too.” You smile again. The inches separating you are killing you, but there’s too much to say and feel.

“You stopped calling,” Steve says, with a sour tone in his voice you’ve never heard before.

“The phone works both ways.” You bite back, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Protecting you from what’s coming.

“I-” Steve mutters, avoiding your eyes and looking all over the room.

“You? What? Did you forget about me?” you ask. “We made a promise.”

The mix of feelings that sit right at the top of your chest starts to reveal themselves. It’s all so confusing, and you weren’t prepared for this. You want to blame him for the time lost, but you know it’s also your fault.

“Why are you bringing this up right now? I saw you for the first time at a fucking bus stop and thought I was going crazy. It’s too much!”

Steve feels relieved; his mind wasn’t betraying him, and he wasn’t going crazy. It was really you—the new you.

“Just say the truth. You didn’t answer my call when I got into college or when I moved in.”

“You called?”

“I called your house since you didn’t reply to my texts or emails. No one answered.”

“I got into a fight with them, and I moved in with Hopper. I was having a hard time, I’m sorry.”

He confesses. You see the way his lips turn into a pout, his tears threatening to fall again.

“What happened?”

“I messed up, had to retake a year.”

"Oh,” it’s the only thing you can think of. Some things made sense, but you still had a lot of questions.

“I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed and so disappointed in myself. No one heard about you, or your family, so I thought you didn’t want to see me, and I had the feeling you were fine without me.”

“We had to move again, two times. But this is the college of our dreams, I didn’t see you here the first year. I thought you chose a different one.”

“You know me, I don’t break promises.”

He looks back at you again, it takes everything in him not to walk to you and kiss you. It takes everything in you to not do the same.

“Listen, I have an interview today, but can we have dinner? I still have a lot of things to say, a lot of things to ask, and it’s been so long.” you blur out.

“Sure, I have a shift at the coffee shop, so I’ll see you at seven?”

“Yeah, that’s okay, Where do you work?” you ask, suddenly shivering. It’s really him, this isn’t a dream.

“In a coffee shop that’s on Main,” he replies, “I know you never go there, I would’ve seen you.”

“I’ve been busy.”

Right. Diana mentioned a boyfriend. His heart suddenly stops, fearing that he is seeing you again just to lose you again.

“I know,” he says, resting his hands on his hips, looking around the room to avoid your eyes again. “Good luck on your interview.”

“Thank you, good luck on your shift." You can feel the awkwardness coming back, the uncomfortable silence threatening to come back. “I’ll see you at seven!”

“I’ll pick you up here,” he says, You can only nod before he turns his back on you.

"Stevie,” you say. He is about to open his front door when he hears your voice again.

“Yes?” he says, turning his head slightly to see you. He missed that nickname, you are the only one who calls him like that.

You want to keep talking and confessing your true feelings right now, but you have things to do. He is more important than everything else, you got him back, you don’t want to waste time.

“Say hi to Robin for me.”

He nods, then walks into his apartment. You close the door of yours once again.

Fear and excitement occupy most of your brain right now. You are praying for him to still want you, to love you back as much as you've loved him this whole time. Being his best friend would be a great start, but being back to be his love sounds even better.

IV. You are the best thing that's ever been mine.

Steve paces around his apartment, Robin and Chrissy are back, and they watch him mumble something under his breath.

“Everything will be fine, you will talk to her and get back together,” Robin says.

“What if she has a boyfriend? What if she is in love with someone else?”

“You can always steal her away, Robin did that to me." Chrissy joins the conversation.

They have been talking about you for hours. Steve decided to exchange his shift and stay home while Robin was taking her day off. He was too distracted to go to work today.

“Dingus. Stop it! You are making me dizzy." Robin gets up, reaching for Steve’s hands and making him look at her. “You’ll see her when she is back, you are going to take her to that restaurant and talk like the adult you are. Okay?”

"Hot,” Chrissy blurs out.

“Thank you, sweetheart." Robin looks at her and winks.

“Gross, get a room, you two!” Steve’s disgusted face makes both girls laugh.

“You can do it, dingus. You’ll get her back.”

“I’m not sure if she feels the same or if I feel the same.”

“Didn’t you say she hugged you so tight you almost ran out of breath? That’s a good sign.” Robin’s hands travel to Steve’s shoulders, shaking him up and trying to wake him up from whatever nightmare he is making up in his head.

“And don’t start. You’ve been rejecting girls, having failed dates, and looking like a lost puppy whenever you see a girl that looks slightly like her. You two are still in love, from what you tell me and from what I feel.”

“You are right, I'm still in love with her. But it’s been a long time. I changed, she changed too.”

“Changes are good, I know it because it was hard for me to accept the real me, but I took that step because I wanted to be free,” Robin confesses, stopping Steve from giving up. “Talk. Try. You met again for a reason, don’t let that go to waste.”

Steve nods. “What would I do without you?” He hugs Robin for a minute before hearing some voices in the hallway. He hears the front door open and close, which means you and Diana made it home.

“You’ll be lost without me! Good luck, dingus.”

“Go get your girl, Steve!”

Steve walks to your door and knocks, to his surprise, Diana opens the door.

"Hi,” he says nervously. “Is she here?”

“Yeah, she will be ready in five.”

"Alright,” Steve says, his hands clammy again, and he finds himself shaking.

“So, you are the guy she has been talking about nonstop.”

“I guess yes,” he replies, feeling his heart racing again. You’ve talked about him.

“Good for you,” Diana says, before you step in.

"Hi,” you say, looking at Steve again. You find this odd, but you are thanking whatever it was that brought him to you again.

"Hi,” he replies, his gaze heavy on you as he takes everything in. Your soft voice, the sweet smell of your perfume.

“Home by ten!” Diana jokes, making you laugh and shake off the anxiety that took over your body.

You walk away from the apartments, with Steve by your side. He glances at him from time to time, and you do the same.

“How was your shift?” you ask him, trying to get rid of the awkward feeling that washes over you again.

“I didn’t go. Too distracted for it,” he says, looking over at you as you walk to the parking lot. “How was your interview?”

"Good,” you sigh, not wanting to ramble about it at this moment. “I hope I get the job.”

“You will, you can do anything,” he says when you reach his car, noticing it looks the same way as before.

Nothing has changed, just time. Everything feels the same, like it froze, letting time pass over it without a single consequence.

Steve looks at you, his brows knit in a frown, and he is almost chewing his lip.

“If you want to ask something, just do it,” you say, making him shiver. “I know you, maybe not so well anymore, but I do.”

“What if your boyfriend sees us?” he asks.

A chuckle falls from your lips, shaking your head and pushing the hair out of your face.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, he broke up with me yesterday, and I saw it coming. I’m over it.”

“Oh, do you want to talk about it? We can stay at home, i can leave you alone, and we can reschedule our dinner because i don’t want you to feel like you.”

“I’m still in love with you,” you interrupt, confessing. With a soft look in your eyes, Steve gets lost in them. “I’m sorry, I can't waste any more time. I need to get this out of me. I’ve been looking for you in everyone, everywhere. You are here, and you look the same, I know time has passed, but I believe my love for you has kept you exactly as I remember you.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do, the truth is, he has been waiting to hear those words for a long time. He has been waiting to see you, to hug you, and to kiss you.

“I’m still in love with you too,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, pushing his golden locks back. The sun is setting completely, and you can still see how it shines. “I never got over you, I was forced to move on because i felt like I didn’t deserve you. And I never wanted us to fall apart, I needed you all this time.”

He gets closer to you, his chest almost bumping into yours. He hesitates to kiss you in the moment, even to touch your hand. The setting reminds him of the last time he saw you, your last night at Hawkins.

“If you want, we can try to make up for the lost time and give it another try.”

“I’d love that.”

He gets closer now, with your confession turning into an invitation. Steve places both of his hands on your cheeks, rubbing the soft skin with his thumbs. It takes you back to that night, it feels like you are relieving that moment just to make it right this time.

“Baby-” he is so close to your lips, his words tingle your lips, and you never stop looking into his eyes. Those sweet brown eyes you missed so much.

“I’ve missed that, honey." He laughs at the nickname, but it still makes him shiver and smile like a little kid.

“And I’ve missed you, kiss, please?”

Steve nods, pressing his lips against yours. It’s a soft, slow kiss. You can feel the breeze of the cold night on your face as you flush when Steve leans his head to the side to trap your bottom lip between his lips to taste you. You close your eyes, savoring the moment. One thing you forgot and cried for every night was this.

His warm lips against yours, his taste. His hands squeeze your cheeks as you press your body against his.

It’s the first kiss since that night, two years have passed, and this still feels so familiar. So safe. The kiss is even sweeter thinking of all the time you’ve dreamed about this, of all the unspoken feelings you communicate to each other with everything your lips brush.

When air is needed, you lean your head back a bit. You giggle at the same time, and he places a kiss on your forehead. Happiness takes over you, it feels like floating.

“I still have that beanie baby, you know?”

“I do, Teddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” You hit his arm slightly, and he chuckles while rubbing his arm dramatically.

“It’s cute, it suits you,” he says, leaving a peck on your lips, resting his hands on your hips this time.

“It’s ridiculous!” You scrunch up your nose, and he leans in to smooth it off with a kiss. “Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

“Only if my dessert is going to be this sweet girl, the universe got back to me,” he says, picking you up, his arms hugging your waist. You can feel your feet dangling in the air. You tangle your arms around his neck so you don’t fall when he spins you around.

“Yes, yes, I'll be your dessert!” You giggle as you feel his lips on your cheeks, and when he stops, you peck his soft cheeks back. “In which house?”

“Oh, I don’t know, it depends on how loud you are.”

“Stevie!” Your cheeks glow red, and he laughs at your sudden flushed face.

“I’m joking! we‘ll figure it out later." He doesn't stop hugging you, even when he puts you down, your feet are now touching the concrete of the parking lot.

“Which one?” you ask, teasingly. Trying to hold back the giggle that is about to escape your lips.

“Both!” Steve says.

You get back in his car, and he proposes the idea of repeating everything you did that last night but with a different ending. You find a nice diner, not as nice as the one outside Hawkins,but it does the job. The old jukebox is there to dance after you eat burgers and fries and you end up stealing his cherry again.

When he picks up the sun, you get up from the booth where you are sitting and run up to him. One of your arms rests around his neck, and the other hand is holding your hand. He interlocks his fingers with yours while his free hand sits on your waist. He pushes you to his chest, the closest he can get you to him, and you start to sway around the checkered floor of the diner. Dancing like nobody's watching, again.

“You are the best thing that’s ever been mine, baby." He sings along with the song before kissing you again.

“I’ve always been yours, honey”

This night is even more magical than the last one, and you’ll have tons of them.

tags: all @munsonology @emistrash @livsters @paybacksawitch @ali-r3n @keeksandgigz @babybatlover @fanfictionlover277353 / steve @stveharringtn @double-vision-in-a-rose-blush

please please reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! my ask is always open if you have any feedback. thank you so much for reading ♡

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pietrobarnes · 2 months

Text

It’s Okay Buck, I’m Okay

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort (slight fluff at the end)

The room was dark, the moon casting a silver glow through the curtains. I lay beside Bucky, listening to his steady breathing. These moments of peace were precious, as his nights were often plagued with nightmares. I watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, feeling grateful for every second of tranquility he could get.

Suddenly, his breathing quickened, and he started to thrash. I knew the signs all too well. Another nightmare. My heart ached seeing him like this, trapped in the horrors of his past. Carefully, I placed my hand on his shoulder, hoping to soothe him awake without making things worse.

"Bucky, it's just a dream," I whispered softly, my voice trembling with concern. "It's me, Y/N."

But in his dream, Bucky was being attacked. His eyes flew open, filled with a wild panic I hadn't seen before. Before I could react, his metal arm shot up and wrapped around my throat, squeezing tightly. I gasped, my hands instinctively trying to pry his off, but his grip was like iron.

"Bucky, wake up!" I managed to choke out, my voice barely a whisper.

His eyes were wide and unseeing, filled with terror and rage. His metal hand tightened around my neck, cutting off my air supply. I could feel the cold metal digging into my skin, the pressure building as I struggled to breathe. My vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness washed over me.

"Bucky, it's me," I rasped, my voice barely audible. "Please, wake up.

He was still lost in his nightmare, his face contorted with fear and fury. The pressure on my throat increased, and I felt my strength ebbing away. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a desperate plea for air. I could feel the life slipping from me, my body growing weaker with each passing second.

"Bucky, please," I whispered, my voice hoarse and fading. "It's okay, Buck. I'm here. I love you."

My words were barely audible, and I wasn't sure if he could hear me. My vision darkened, and I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. Summoning all my remaining energy, I let out a muffled scream, hoping against hope that someone would hear.

As if in response, the door creaked open. I saw a flash of Steve's silhouette in the doorway. His eyes widened in horror as he took in the scene.

"Bucky, wake up! That's Y/N!" Steve's voice boomed, filled with urgency.

Bucky's eyes flickered, confusion washing over his face as he slowly came to. When he realized what he was doing, his hand immediately released my throat. I collapsed onto the bed, gasping for breath, my vision blurred with tears.

"Oh God, Y/N," Bucky's voice broke, filled with anguish. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know—"

Steve was already calling for Dr. Banner, and within moments, the room was filled with concerned faces. Thor gently lifted me, carrying me to the small medical room in the Avengers Tower.

As Dr. Banner and the others tended to me, Bucky stood by the door, his face etched with guilt and despair. I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him it wasn't his fault, but I was too weak to speak.

After what felt like an eternity, I began to regain consciousness. Steve was by my side, his expression softening as he saw my eyes flutter open.

"Hey," he said gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," I croaked, managing a weak smile.

"Do you want to see Bucky?" Steve asked, his voice cautious. "He's been beating himself up about what happened."

I nodded slowly. "Yes, I need to see him."

Steve motioned for Bucky to come in. As soon as he stepped into the room, he burst into tears, rushing to my side and dropping to his knees.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he sobbed, his voice raw with emotion. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave me after this. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if you did, but I would understand."

I reached out, gently cupping his face in my hands. "Bucky, I knew what I was getting myself into when I fell in love with you. I'm not going anywhere."

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and disbelief. "You mean it? You're not leaving?"

"I mean it," I said firmly. "We'll get through this together. You're not alone."

Bucky's tears flowed freely as he leaned into my touch, his body shaking with emotion. "I don't deserve you, Y/N."

I smiled softly, brushing a tear from his cheek. "We're in this together, Bucky. Always."

In that moment, surrounded by the comforting presence of our friends and the love we shared, I knew we would find a way to overcome any nightmare. Together, we were stronger than the darkness that haunted him.

—————

Should I make a taglist?

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vallovesbuckyb · 9 months

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POV: You get a voicemail from Bucky while he's away on a mission.

Check out my Etsy store for your own voicemail personalized message or email experience ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

The day felt longer than usual as I waited for Bucky's call. Today was the day of the week he could use the burner phone. Usually, he tries not to use it too much. But every Friday without missing a beat, a call always came from the same number - at the same time. Every creak of the floorboards or distant sound made me jump, paranoid that any noise would be my ringing phone. I missed him terribly, and the empty space next to me in our apartment only emphasized his absence.

As I anxiously checked my phone for the umpteenth time, it finally lit up with an incoming call. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly answered, expecting to hear Bucky's voice. To my disappointment, it wasn't him but some telemarketer. Frustration welled up inside me, and I let out a sigh, wondering when I would hear from him.

As the clock ticked closer to the designated hour, my heart raced with anticipation. I clutched my phone in my hand, checking the battery repeatedly. Everything was ready - the charger plugged in, my phone positioned strategically on the table. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

The minutes dragged on, and finally, it was time. Bucky had always been punctual, and I knew he would call any moment now. I stared at my phone, willing it to ring. But the minutes turned into an hour, and the room echoed with silence.

Concern gnawed at me as I checked my phone for the umpteenth time. No missed calls, no messages. I tried to shake off the unease, telling myself he might be caught up with the mission. Maybe something came up, and he couldn't call. But deep down, I couldn't shake the worry.

Just as I contemplated calling him, my phone buzzed, and relief washed over me. However, my joy turned to disappointment when I saw it wasn't Bucky calling. Instead, it was a notification that my phone was about to die. Panic set in as I fumbled for the charger, desperately plugging it in. The screen dimmed, and the phone powered off.

Frustration bubbled within me as I waited for it to turn back on. I cursed silently, realizing that I might have missed Bucky's call. I hoped he would understand, but doubt crept in. What if this was the only chance he had to reach out?

Eventually, my phone powered up, and I anxiously checked for missed calls. There it was – a single voicemail from Bucky. I pressed play, and his voice filled the room, warm and reassuring.

A small smile formed on my face, hearing his words. It was as if he was right there with me, despite the physical distance.

The voicemail ended, leaving me with a mix of emotions. I was grateful for his message, but a pang of guilt tugged at me for missing his call. Despite the temporary hiccup, the sound of Bucky's voice reassured me. I replayed the voicemail, savoring every word. As I gazed out the window, I imagined the moment he'd return, embracing him with all the pent-up longing. The wait felt more bearable now, knowing that our reunion was just around the corner.

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aryuunachigiri · 9 months

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pleasepleaseplease tag your non-reader friendly posts correctly, I'm tired of thinking one post is an "x reader" but the mc is an oc 🥲🥲🥲🥲

yes we can just imagine ourselves in the oc's place but I'm telling y'all it doesn't hit as hard as reader-insert's 😓

actually this is kinda all applies under the not tagged correctly posts where they get tagged as "male" reader but the content in it is afab 😢 or the non gender-neutral ones getting tagged in a gendered post

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marvelvillian23 · 7 months

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PLEASE!! I need fics rec for all of these! Especially the Convict. Please be multi Chapter fics.

It even can be Steve in these situations instead of Bucky I don’t mind.

*Photos From Pinterest

I’m currently reading Blood Moon Rising on AO3 by Sarahyellow.

It’s a A/B/O prison story where Bucky’s the convict and pre serum Steve is the prison counselor…I think. A riot breaks out and Bucky takes Steve hostage. 5/8 Chapters are up so far.

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sarahowritesostucky · 7 months

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📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3620

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

6. Somethin' with Bananas

Steve

Steve wakes up to Bucky spooning him, pressing his morning wood against his ass. He hums with his eyes still closed, enjoying the feeling. “Mmm, g’morning.”

Hands slide onto his hips. “Mornin’ Sunshine.”

Steve smiles. “Sunshine” is one of Bucky’s favorite pet names for him. Steve is rather fond of it too, after so many years together. His husband has a knack for making him feel special like that. “What’re you doin', Buck?” he warns softly, still smiling because he likes the feeling of being explored, even if they can't take this far right now because of—

“She left for work a while ago,” Bucky murmurs, the answer to a question that Steve hasn’t asked. Alone time doesn’t happen as much as it used to, these days. "Left a bunch of baking stuff out on the counter. There's a note threatening us with mortal peril if we eat any of her bananas."

"Hmm." Steve yawns deeply and wiggles his butt back against his husband's noticeable hardon. "Whas'she makin'?"

"Dunno. Somethin' with bananas." Bucky’s hand slides to the juncture of Steve’s legs. He palms the half hard line of his cock from over his briefs, massaging the bulge as it grows. Steve moans a little and tips his head back to Bucky’s shoulder, a wordless request for kisses. Bucky starts lavishing his neck with attention while his hand continues its slow work.

Steve loves moments like this. Early morning, the sun barely out and the world quiet, the bedroom air still and thick from sleep; easy, instinctual fucking; simple and not complicated, just the two of them loving on each other. He inhales a little sharper when Bucky finally slides his hand under the waistband of his underwear. “Yeah,” he whispers.

“Mmhm.” Bucky kisses his neck. “This what you wanted, Honey?” His hand is wrapped flush around Steve now, skin on skin. He strokes once up and down and gives a squeeze, starts up a slow, tight rhythm.

“Oh.” Steve bites his lip, eyes closed as he just feels what Bucky’s doing to him. “Mm. Mmhm. S’real good.” He shivers when Bucky’s thumb swipes at his cockhead, spreading the wetness around and pressing firm against his slit. “Fuck …”

“Always were a leaker,” Bucky says lowly. “You get so wet, Honey.”

“Buck,” Steve whines. He loves Bucky’s talk in bed but he’s never been able to handle it. It turns him into a pitiful mess, every time.

Bucky

Bucky just chuckles, knowing the effect he has on him. He’s Dominant. Winding Steve around his little finger comes naturally to him, and Steve can’t say he doesn’t like it. “You were making pretty sounds in your sleep,” Bucky says, murmuring the words in between kisses on Steve’s neck. “Moaning and moving your hips a little.” He demonstrates, pushing his own hips up against Steve’s ass. Steve makes an embarrassed, whimpery sort of noise that goes straight to Bucky’s cock, and he shushes him. “Shh, no. It was hot, Stevie. You were feeling real good in your sleep, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

“What were you dreaming about?” Bucky presses his thigh forward, between Steve’s legs, crowding him that much closer. “Hm?”

“Her,” Steve says breathily. “I … h-her.”

“Mary?” Bucky grins against the skin of his neck. “Having dirty dreams about our girl, huh?”

Steve moans—whether at Bucky calling her ‘their girl’, or at the way his other hand is now reaching down to cup Steve’s sac, isn’t clear. Bucky gives a gentle squeeze and tug, then rolls the weight of his testicles in his palm. Steve, who’s always been keen on having his balls played with, moans louder and nods against the pillow. “Didn’t mean to,” he says, as if he needs to defend his character.

Bucky grins like a shark and nips his earlobe. “Course not. You just couldn’t help it, could you? She’s always there, moaning around bites of cream filled pastries, showing off her ass in those leggings—”

Steve groans.

“—Giving us attitude every day like she wants a spanking, but dropping so sweet by the end’a the night.” He can see pink spreading around to the back of Steve’s neck and shoulders now. His Stevie colors so easily. Bucky licks delicately along the shell of his ear and whispers, “Tell me. Tell me what you did to her in the dream.” Steve moans and doesn’t answer for a long while, maybe too distracted by Bucky’s hand that’s still stroking him slowly. Bucky stills, opens his hand and presses Steve’s cock up against his stomach. “Steve,” he warns. “Tell me.”

“... Wasn’t me,” Steve mumbles, embarrassed. “It was you. You were touching her, fucking her.”

Bucky’s guts tighten in arousal. “Oh?” he breathes. “You like thinkin’ about that? Like thinking about me laying her out? Her spreading her legs for me right here on this bed?” Steve groans and nods, whining impatiently and humping forward for more. Bucky chuckles and takes him in hand again, squeezing his shaft and fondling his balls. They’re tighter now, drawn up closer to his body as he gets more worked up. “So?” Bucky needles, when he still hasn’t gotten an answer. “Is that what you want?”

“Bucky, nngh, Yes, alright?”

“Mmhm.” He chuckles softly and nuzzles Steve’s neck, enjoying his husband’s flustered state. “But you know, I think I’d like to watch you.” He can just picture it: Steve’s muscled, strong body moving over her soft curves, his big hands holding her open gently—because everything Steve does is gentle—while he makes her cum on his cock. “Yeah. You like that idea, Big guy? Me too. I wanna watch this big fat dick—” he squeezes his fist on Steve— “plowing her sloppy, making her cum so good she even cries a little bit.” Steve whines again, and Bucky hums in agreement. “Mmhm. It’d be so hot, Stevie.”

Steve squirms against him in distress. “I, I’ve never … With girls I mean. I’m not … I’ve never …” he peters off, and Bucky’s got no idea what he’s saying.

“What?” He frowns and ruts his erection against the cleft of Steve’s ass for a little relief. “What’re you talking about, Baby? You’ve been with women before. College?”

Steve shakes his head against the pillow. “No, I mean I … I don’t know what to do. To make ‘em feel good. I’m … not good at it.”

Bucky actually stops what he’s doing. Steve grunts at the lack of touch, but Bucky just hushes him and pulls on his shoulder, urging him to turn over. “Hey. C’mere. Look at me.” Steve’s face is indeed colored pink when he turns to lie facing Bucky. His eyes flick up briefly, but dart away again, shy. Bucky’s heart squeezes. “Oh, Honey,” he says, bringing a hand up to cup Steve’s jaw. “Who told you that?” He thinks of murdering whatever coed bitch might’ve made Steve feel self-conscious.

Steve looks mortified. “Nobody did. Just … I could tell. The times I was with ‘em. I couldn’t make them, you know, cum.” He looks so ashamed as he admits it, and Bucky wants to grab him and kiss all over his entire face.

“Aw, Steve,” he coos. “Is that it? You’re nervous about being with a woman again? Not confident?”

Steve nods. He tucks himself against Bucky’s body and presses his face in his neck, hiding there. “Women are hard,” he mumbles. “I like ‘em, but it’s not easy.”

Bucky chuckles a little. “Yeah, that’s for sure. But it’s not that bad, baby. You just gotta know a few basics. Gotta take it real slow and feel them out, find out what makes her feel good. Every girl’s different. That’s the beauty in it.”

Steve grunts and ruts up against him, their cocks knocking together between their bellies. “Tell me?” he asks, eager and sweet. “Please, Buck? Tell me how.”

Bucky feels like half the blood leaves his brain, his dick throbbing anew. “Fuck,” he breathes, crazy turned on at the idea. “You want me to teach you, Stevie? Teach you how to get her crying? Dripping wet? How to touch her so good you make her cum?”

Steve shivers and nods, grinding his forehead into Bucky’s shoulder in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah I want you to. Want you to teach me.”

Bucky pulls Steve’s head up to make him look at him. His face is pinched—embarrassed but wanting. Bucky curses. “Fuck. Yeah, yeah baby I’ll teach you how. C’mere.” He moves up the bed, pulling Steve’s meaty shoulders to get him to follow, directing him to sit in his lap, back to chest as Bucky props them up against the headboard. He spreads his legs wide to accommodate Steve’s bulk, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “My little overachiever,” he murmurs. “Such a Boy Scout, always wanting to be the best you can be.”

Steve huffs. “Don’t think they gave out merits for eating pussy,” he quips, uncharacteristically lewd.

Bucky barks out a laugh in delight. “Well pay attention, Sweetheart. You’re about to earn that badge.” Steve shudders against him, but he’s leaning back against Bucky, slumped just a little lower in his lap. He’s ready to listen, and Bucky’s fucking hot at the chance to tell. “First thing you gotta know,” he says, speaking delicately and smoothing his hands over Steve’s sides. “Is forget what you’ve seen in porn. They make that shit for us, not them. It’s all fake. No better way to make a girl miserable than to go pounding into her or whatever else.”

Steve makes a questioning noise, and God bless him, Bucky knows instantly that this is news to the big dummy. “But …” he hedges.

“No buts, Honey.” Bucky kisses his ear. “You gotta be so gentle. Always start soft, always go slow. Start that way and pay attention to her reactions.” He skims his fingertips up Steve’s ribs, tickling lightly over to his pecs and back down, making him gasp. “Yeah,” Bucky hums, “Just like that. She might be quiet at first, girls don’t moan all loud right off the bat. They don’t get worked up as fast as we do. They take time.”

Steve nods, panting a little as he listens to him. “W-what then?” he asks.

“Listen to her breathing, the sounds she makes. She’ll start breathing heavier when you’ve got her feeling good, start making little sounds without even realizing she’s doin’ it.” Steve looses a tiny whimper and Bucky grins. “Yeah, just like that.” He reaches down and finds Steve’s cock again, and god it’s sexy how wet his fella can get. He strokes him a few times, just languidly, letting the precum guide the slide of his fist. Not hurrying. Showing Steve what he means when he says ‘slow’.

“Oh,” Steve breathes, sounding gone for it.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “And then when she starts moving her hips?” He presses his crotch into the small of Steve’s back. “Just rubbing herself against you or humping up in the air a little? Oh yeah, that’s when she’s into it.” He brings one hand up to cradle Steve’s pec. “Girls are more sensitive here than we are,” he tells him. He’s looking over Steve’s shoulder now, eyeing up what he’s doing. He flicks his thumb over the nipple—so freaking small and petal pink where Bucky’s are darker. And he’s so responsive, the nipple pebbling up with hardly any effort on Bucky’s part. “Mmhm,” Bucky hums approvingly. “You want to try different things. You can just hold ‘em …” he uses both hands and cups the meat of Steve’s chest, giving a proprietary squeeze. Steve moans and Bucky smiles. “Yeah. But not too hard. Treat her tits like they’re something delicate, somethin’ special.” He makes the motion to Steve’s pecs like he would do to lightly bounce a woman’s breasts in his palms. “And Mary, she’s got smaller tits. A nice, healthy handful, just like you.”

Steve whines and squirms impatiently in his lap. Bucky glances down to check, and sees Steve’s cock; abandoned on his stomach, dark, and leaking. It’s so heavy and thick, the foreskin drawn halfway down the head, showcasing the shiny pink tip of him. Bucky curses softly. Fuck, but he wants to wring an orgasm out of that cock like ten minutes ago. But he forces himself to stay the course.

“When you use your mouth on her nipples,” he whispers, voice soft like velvet in Steve’s ear, “You can lick. Or nibble a little.” He mimics each option with a stroke and then a pinch of his fingers on Steve’s nipples, flicking out with his tongue to get the shell of Steve’s ear. “But I’ll tell you what: most of ‘em like it best when you suck.” He uses all five fingertips drawn together to pull gently at the peaks of Steve’s chest, and Steve makes a hurt, wanting sound. “Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “Suck her nipples. Then fit as much of her in your mouth as you can and suck that too.” He takes pity on Steve and reaches back down for his cock. Steve cries out, and Bucky gentles him. “Shh sh sh. Remember: slow.”

Steve groans, his tight hips flexing and pushing his cock up into the curl of Bucky’s fist. “Buck, please.”

“It’s not about you,” Bucky chides. “You’re a man. You get to cum so easy and all the time. You gotta help her get there, give her what she deserves.”

Steve sobs a little, so worked up from all the teasing, but he falls back into Bucky, relaxing against his chest and laying himself open for Bucky to continue. Pride and adoration for his man well up in Bucky at the show of submission. “Good,” he praises, giving an extra indulgent twist on the next upstroke. Steve’s foreskin moves with the motions, making soft, wet noises with all the precum he’s leaking. Bucky hums appreciatively. “Yeah, lookit that.” He draws his hand all the way up, tight, and then dips his thumb into the folds, rubbing into that wetness, against the sensitive head. “If you’re doing it right, touching her enough, she’ll be wet by now,” he says. “But you still shouldn’t go for her pussy yet. Not yet.”

“What … what else?” Steve asks muzzily, like he can’t think of anything else to do that doesn’t involve his dick getting jerked off or sticking it in a hypothetical pussy.

“Tease her,” Bucky says. “Run your hands all over her body, all over her soft skin.”

Steve sighs happily. “I like how soft they are. Smooth.”

Hearing Steve talk about what he likes about women makes Bucky’s dick throb, and he grinds it against Steve’s lower back for some relief. “Mmhm,” he agrees, moving his hands up and down the skin of Steve’s ribcage, his belly, grabbing on at his hips and giving a proprietary jostle. “Dig your fingers into her, gentle but insistent. Let her feel how much you love her body.”

“Now?” Steve asks.

“Not yet,” Bucky whispers.

“Fuck. Bucky.”

“Tease her,” he insists, ignoring Steve’s pleading. He slides his hands down Steve’s thighs and inwards, pulling them apart. Steve moans and spreads them wide. “Exactly,” Bucky says. “You want to touch her here. Run your hands all over, so close to where she wants it. Remember, if you’ve been doing this right, she’ll be wet by now.” He goes back and strokes the wetness along Steve’s shaft. “Sink down between her legs and kiss her thighs—you’ll smell it.”

“Oh my god.”

Bucky smiles, in love with his husband for how easily he comes apart under his care. He traces down to the base of Steve’s cock, making a vee with two fingers and rubbing the skin on either side. “Put pressure on her mound, really close but not touching where she wants it. Not yet.” His other hand slides down and delicately traces the seam of Steve’s sac. “Tease her, trace her folds. Get a little bit of that wetness and rub it around to make her even more sensitive. And then …” He blows gently on Steve’s ear. Steve moans. “Just like that. You want to wait. Don’t give her your mouth until she’s whining and shovin’ up at you for it.”

“Nngh,”

Bucky chuckles and circles the wet pad of his finger over one testicle and then the other. He nudges at Steve’s taut sac and whispers in his ear. “Push her lips apart.”

Steve is breathing hard through his nose, tense, his dick bobbing rock hard and angry in the air. Bucky has mercy on him and reaches for it, and Steve chokes out a sob of relief at only the slightest touch.

Bucky kisses his temple soothingly. “Shh. Here. Riiight here.” He holds the head between his thumb and fingers and starts jacking just the tip of him, foreskin tugging and gliding in that way that he knows feels amazing for Steve. “Right above her sweet spot, see? You rub on her like this, up and down, back and forth. Work the hood over her clit juuust like this.”

Steve makes a debased groan at the echo of what Bucky’s saying, and how he’s working Steve’s foreskin over the head of his dick. “Fuck, fuck,” he hisses.

“Yeah, you’re close. She’s soaked by now. You think it’s time to give her more?”

“Bucky. Yes, yes, please.” His hips are straining upwards but he lets his head loll back on Bucky’s shoulder, open for what he’ll do next. “Please,” he begs.

“Now this is important, baby, so pay attention,” Bucky says. “Some women like a mouth on ‘em down there, some don’t. Some do, but they have a hang up over how they think they look or taste or something.” Steve makes a sad noise at that, matching Bucky’s opinion that: yeah, women shouldn’t worry so much. Pussy is just generally fucking awesome. “Tell her how much you love it,” he says. “The taste of her, the shape of her lips. Make her feel pretty and wanted.” He’s fondling Steve’s balls anew as he says this, rubbing and rolling them, then cupping his whole palm over them and dipping behind to dig fingertips into his taint. “Come on, Stevie,” he goads, “Let me hear it. Tell me what you’d say.”

It takes Steve a few tries before he can pull enough of his brain out of his dick to rasp, “S’fucking gorgeous p-pussy. So … so wet. Can I lick it Honey, huh? Please lemme lick it. Wanna taste that sweet cunt.”

Bucky gasps, shocked and delighted at Steve’s dirty talk. “Oh, Stevie,” he groans. “Baby. Fuck, yes. I didn’t know you had it in you.” He wraps his hand fully around Steve’s cock and starts jerking him off fast, fast enough that it’s obvious he’s finally aiming to make Steve cum, and Steve chokes on a relieved heave of breath.

"Yes! Oh, thank you!”

Bucky attacks Steve’s neck with his mouth, biting and smearing spit and scraping his teeth over the wet skin. He growls as he watches his fist working furiously over Steve's red, hard dick. “Suck her clit while you fuck her on your fingers,” he rasps. “Tell her she’s a good girl, tell her to ride your face, grind down on your hand. Make sure she knows she’s allowed to let go.”

Steve cries out, guttural and loud like he always gets when his pleasure is cresting. “Bucky, Buck. Honey, oh. F-fuck, m’close.”

“Mmhm. Thaat’s it, Princess,” he says, pitching his voice just so and using that name so that Steve knows. Knows he’s talking to her.

Steve whines, his whole body tight and straining into Bucky’s grip.

“Curl your fucking fingers in her,” Bucky growls. “She’s close. Don’t slow down. Don’t even speed up. She likes what you’re doing now, so don’t you dare fucking change a thing.”

“Bucky!”

“That’s it, Princess, just like that. You’re almost there.”

“Fuck, fuck … ssshit …”

“Ride Daddy’s hand, fuck back on it. Good girl.”

Steve jerks and shouts, cock pulsing in telltale contractions, before searing ropes of come shoot up his stomach and all over Bucky’s hand. “Oh, oh, oh!” He grunts through it with gorgeous sounds, and Bucky’s so in love with the sight of it that he’s not roleplaying anymore when he purrs, “Fucking beautiful, Sweetheart.”

Steve slumps when it’s over, still panting from the pleasure. Bucky eases off, sets his wet and slowly softening dick gently against his stomach. He moves them, guiding Steve to turn over and lie out on his front. He shoves Steve’s legs together and straddles them, swipes his hand that’s covered in Steve’s release into the tight space between his thighs, wetting him up. He growls viciously, pent up and rock hard and ready to fucking cum. He ruts into the wet clench of Steve’s thick thighs, fucking him like he’s got a loose, easy cunt. “Fuck, baby,” he grits, close within a matter of minutes. He chases his orgasm and collapses onto Steve’s broad back when it hits, grinding in hard one last time and shouting loud and guttural with how goddamn good it feels. “Fuck! Ughn, f-ffuuck.”

He comes down heaving, panting against Steve’s skin. Steve is strong enough that he can roll out from under his weight, and he pulls Bucky into his arms and draws his head onto his chest. Bucky goes gratefully, happy to have Steve’s firm pecs as a pillow. “God, honey,” he breathes, wrung out. Steve makes a noise of agreement. They just lie there together, sweaty and spent, catching their breath for a long time.

“... Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“… You’re a good teacher.”

Bucky laughs and crawls up to kiss Steve on the mouth. “Yeah,” he says when they part. “But that wasn’t even the main event.” Steve looks confused for a second, before Bucky slyly clarifies: “You still gotta fuck her. And you know you want to make her cum at least twice.”

Series Masterlist

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dazedandconfused-15 · 1 month

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Heaven's in your eyes (Part 4)

From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who took the time to comment and reblog this story, I'm really glad you're sticking with me on this journey!!

If you're enjoying it, a reblog would mean a lot to me and really helps get this fanfic out there! 🫶

Enjoy...

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1 Part 2, and Part 3

@tatumrileyslover @littlenosoul @nocturnest @the-freak-cassie-313 @rainy-darling @nina-from-317

From then on, you become much more observant. Billy and you meet up after school to do homework, go for walks, grab some food or just hang out. You start noticing small details, like how sometimes his shirt is buttoned up a bit higher than usual, even in warm weather. Occasionally, you catch sight of a bruise on his skin. You refrain from bombarding him with questions, but it's challenging to stay silent when the wounds are obvious. Thankfully, it's never as severe as that night he showed up battered. You quickly understand that this topic is off-limits for him, so you let it go, hoping that someday, he'll feel comfortable enough to open up to you.

For the first time in what feels like ages, happiness seeps into your days. Suddenly, the world seems brighter, nights feel less daunting, and even the mundane surroundings regain a hint of color. But deep down, you know this fragile balance won't last.

And just like that, everything shifts during a Wednesday afternoon gym class. You're deep into a basketball game. A teammate passes you the ball, and with quick reflexes, you snatch it and charge towards the basket. It all happens in a blur, catching you off guard, until a sharp pang shoots through your knees as they collide with the unforgiving, polished wood of the gym floor. Your heart races as you instinctively extend your arms, just in time to protect your face from the impact. Amid the chaos, the coach's whistle cuts through the noise, and through the fog of pain, a pair of trainers come into focus right before your eyes.

“What happened?”

“She tripped, Coach,” says the voice belonging to the person in those shoes. Your gaze shifts upward, meeting the mocking eyes of Tina Williams. She stands with one hand on her hip, casually chewing her gum. A moment later, she steps aside as the coach kneels in front of you.

The contrast is stark—where there was once the commotion of squeaking shoes and shouts, there's now a hushed stillness. Half the class has gathered around, watching in silence.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?" the coach asks you, resting his hand on your arm.

deliberately tripped you, sending you crashing to the floor. The pain in your knees isn't unbearable, but your skin is clearly scraped. The sting from where they hit the ground and slid across the floor is still sharp.

"Oh man, we need to disinfect these," the coach remarks, examining your peeling, reddened knees where raw flesh is visible. "I'm taking you to the nurse's office."

"No, no. It's fine." you say, your voice slightly shaky as he helps you to your feet. "It's not that bad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah," you murmur, catching the faint snickers of Vicky Muller and Carol Perkins as they whisper to Tina, their voices low but filled with amusement.

The coach makes you sit on the benches for the rest of the hour. As the game continues, you become a spectator in every sense—watching the game and the entire situation unfold, feeling completely disconnected from your own body. Your mind drifts, detaching from everything around you. You’re certain Tina tripped you on purpose, but the reason eludes you. Anxiety gnaws at you, leaving a pit in your stomach. When the game finally ends, you follow your classmates into the locker room, keeping your eyes downcast, avoiding any confrontations. All you want is to leave, to escape this uncomfortable situation.

But as you open your locker, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. Reluctantly, you turn, only to find yourself face-to-face with Tina. Vicky stands beside her, arms crossed, with an expression that clearly shows she's anticipating some entertainment, barely able to contain her laughter.

Tina nods toward your knees. “How are your knees?”

You want to snap back, to demand what her problem is, but instead, you choose the path of least resistance. Maybe if you play along, this will all blow over.

“It’s nothing serious. It’ll pass,” you say, forcing a small smile before turning back to your locker.

Tina snorts, and there’s a brief, tense silence. “What’s your deal with Billy?”

Your hand freezes in mid-motion as everything suddenly clicks into place. Slowly, you turn back to her, realizing there’s no avoiding this conversation.

You decide to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

“Did I stutter?”

You swallow, taking in her mocking expression. The locker room falls silent as your classmates stop what they’re doing to watch the scene unfold. In the background, Carol wears a wicked smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I barely know him,” you say, trying to diffuse the situation, not wanting any trouble.

You know that Billy had gone out with Tina a few times not too long ago. It was supposedly nothing serious and ended as quickly as it began. Rumor has it that after they’d hooked up in his Camaro, he drove her home and never called her again.

“Please. You think we’re dumb?” Vicky chimes in. “We’ve seen you hanging with him.”

“I…”

“Listen, honey,” Tina cuts you off, unfolding her arms and stepping toward you. Her tone is anything but sweet, almost aggressive. “I don’t care what the hell you’re up to. But stop it.”

“Wha…”

“You really think he’d be interested in someone like you? Take a good look at yourself,” she sneers, her gaze sweeping over you, making you instantly self-conscious. “Make sure you’re not carrying fleas before you get near guys like Billy. God knows what’s lurking in that cesspool you call home.”

“Or STDs,” Carol chimes in with a smirk. “Like mother, like daughter.”

The comment hits you like a punch to the gut, the pain in your knees forgotten as a deeper ache settles in. The room is filled with your classmates, yet you’ve never felt so alone. Some stand in silent shock, others hold back amused grins, enjoying the spectacle.

“So yeah, stay away from him. Got it?” Tina snaps her bubble gum, her eyes daring you to respond.

They don’t wait for an answer, turning away and leaving you frozen in place. As you open your locker and reach for your clothes, you realize with a sinking feeling that they’re soaked. Water drips onto the floor, soaking your sneakers, and panic rises in your chest. You quickly grab your backpack, hoping it’s unharmed, but find it just as wet, the contents inside ruined.

Murmurs and giggles fill the room as Tina’s voice drifts over again, soft but cutting. “Sorry about that. Maybe next time you’ll know your place.”

You leave school wearing your damp clothes, shivering as the rain falls down on you. The thought of enduring two more hours of English literature is unbearable. Despite your efforts to dry your clothes and backpack, the dampness clings to you, making the weight of it all feel heavier. The mile-long walk home feels endless as your mind replays the scene in the gym and locker room. You wonder how you could have been so naive, so foolish to think you could find a bit of happiness without something going wrong. The cold air stings your wet cheeks, and you wipe them with the back of your hand, your eyes fixed on the ground. Your knees burn, but nothing compares to the deep, burning shame inside you.

When you finally reach home, you’re grateful your father is still at work, sparing you from having to explain why you’re home early or why you look so miserable. You retreat to the shower, letting the hot water pour over you until the steam is so thick you can’t even see the tiles. Later, you curl up on the couch under a blanket, staring blankly at the TV, your mind far away. The phone rings, breaking the silence, but you don’t have the energy to answer it. Whoever is calling is persistent, though, and the ringing continues.

Taking a deep breath, you finally pick up the receiver, trying to keep your voice from sounding hollow.

“Hello?”

“It’s Billy.”

His warm voice is like a balm, soothing your frayed nerves, but it also brings back the harsh memories of the day. The ugly events replay in your mind, and guilt washes over you as you imagine him waiting by his Camaro, only to realize you wouldn’t be showing up.

“I’m sorry. Sorry about that,” you croak, clearing your throat. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“What happened?”

“I’m just under the weather. That’s all. I think I’m getting sick.”

A heavy silence hangs between you as you twist the phone cord around your fingers, the tension in your grip turning your skin white. You can only hear your own breathing, and you hope desperately that he believes you, that he won’t push for more.

“You sure?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, I promise. I just need to rest.”

“Alright,” he sighs. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Hey, Billy?” you blurt out, stopping yourself before your voice cracks. The knot in your throat tightens as you struggle with the urge to be honest with him. It doesn’t seem fair to lie, knowing this might be one of the last times you hear his voice. “Thanks for calling,” you manage to say once you’re sure your voice won’t break.

“Don’t mention it. Bye, sweetheart.”

You hang up before you can respond, the warmth of his endearment slicing through you, leaving you on the verge of tears. It’s not just him—it’s everything. The whole situation weighs on you. You glance at the picture of you and your mom on the hall shelf, taken when you were just two years old in her arms. Your dad still keeps it, a reminder of the past. Billy has managed to make your life easier, not by making you forget, but by showing you that happiness was still possible. But today, all those old wounds are reopened. The void left by her, and now by him, feels deeper than ever. That’s the risk of letting people into your life—they eventually leave, and all you’re left with is the emptiness they once filled.

You stay home for the next two days. On Friday, it still hasn’t stopped raining. The day drags on endless, each hour feeling like an eternity. You struggle to find the strength to peel yourself out of bed, your stomach tied in knots, rendering breakfast an impossible feat. As rain continues to patter against the window, casting a dreary backdrop, you find yourself lost in a numb trance, gazing blankly at the vivid greenery outside. Only in the afternoon does your hunger finally overpower the turmoil within, prompting you to rustle up a simple cheese toast to appease your growling stomach. Settling in front of the TV, you attempt to distract yourself from the weight of the day's events. By the late afternoon, as your dad arrives home, you force yourself to summon a facade of composure, determined not to burden him with worries. Then the doorbell rings, snapping you out of your trance, and you get up to see who's there.

As you open the door, Billy is standing here, his hands on his leather jacket pockets, his gaze wandering off to the side, but turns to look immediately at you. He’s as pretty as the last time you saw him. His eyes lock with yours, making you weak in the knee.

“Oh. Hey.” you softly say, completely taken off guard by his presence on your front door.

“Hey.”

“Uh, what are you doing here?” you ask, trying your best to not sound rude. You’re just confused.

Billy shrugs. “You didn’t answer when I called. Figured I would come to you instead.”

His response leaves you speechless. You’re struck by his persistence, amazed that he hasn’t grown tired of you, given his tendency to quickly lose interest in people. He says it so casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and it stirs something inside you that you can’t quite put into words.

Amusement flicks over his face. “You gonna let me in, or what?”

You excuse yourself by straightening up from your position against the door, opening it wide to let him in. Billy wipes his shoes on the doormat before stepping in. A strange energy seems to be unleashed when your bodies are close to each other. It makes you feel electric. You’ve never believed in those things, but it’s almost like your auras are touching.

You look up at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you look at each other.

“Sorry, my dad’s here,” you say as you see him look up behind you toward the living room.

Although very subtle, you notice how his body tenses up when your father approaches him and you introduce Billy to him. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Your dad shakes his hand, a warm smile on his face. “Ah, so you must be Billy. She keeps talking about you.”

Billy lets out a nervous chuckle, briefly glancing at you. You find yourself looking at the ground, cheeks flushed. "Hope she said good things."

“All I can say is that you’re good to her, son. Haven’t seen my daughter smiling this often in a long time. She never talks to me about her friends.” he rests his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly.

“I’m glad to hear that.” you can feel Billy’s eyes on you, boring a hole through your skin. “She’s good to me too.”

Your dad gestures toward the kitchen. “Have you had dinner yet? We made some roasted chicken tonight, it’s delicious.”

Billy shakes his head. “Thank you, sir, I had dinner earlier.”

“Come have a drink then.” your dad already walks backward to the kitchen. “What can I get you?”

“Dad…” you softly say at his enthusiasm. You never have people over. It’s been a long time since you had them. Not since…well. And you understand your dad lights up as a candle with joy. He’s getting too enthusiastic already.

“You look over eighteen. Beer? Some red wine?”

Billy glances at you, his hand in his pockets, then slowly follows him to the kitchen. He looks like a wary animal taking in his surroundings. “Beer is fine. Thank you, sir.”

You follow behind Billy, feeling suddenly so uneasy in your own house. Your eyes follow his broad back as he enters the kitchen, the air already smelling like leather. Like him.

Your dad, with a casual wave of his hand, says, "Ah, don't bother with all those formalities around me.”

Billy leans against the counter as your dad extends an uncapped bottle of beer, clinking it against his own. You notice how he stiffens slightly again when your dad mentions remembering his last name, knowing his father. His attitude becomes more reserved, and he answers with small sentences. Especially when your dad mentions how despite having talked to him only a few times at Melvald’s downtown and the bank, he looks like a tough guy. However, your dad is easygoing and his attitude warm, and slowly, throughout the conversation, Billy seems to ease up too. His shoulders relax, and a real laugh escapes him a time or two. You knew they shared some interests, but you didn’t expect them to talk about California for so long. Your dad recounts his younger years living in there, how he spent his days surfing and working in a garage for his own dad’s friend to get some money. Billy did the same back there. He tells your dad how you mentioned some of it to him, then how many more people there are since the 60s, how Will Rogers State Beach is now crowded with tourists.

“You’re sure you don’t want anything to eat? Hell, there’s plenty of that chicken and it’s only the two of us.” you dad offers again.

Billy settles the empty beer on the counter. “Oh, I’m fine. Thank you. I was hoping to take her on a ride, to get some fresh air if that’s alright with you.”

Your dad looks at you and you give him a small smile, though you didn’t expect or plan any of it. He nods in approval.

“Sure, kids. Be careful, yeah? It was nice to meet you Billy.”

“Same. Thank you for the beer.”

Your dad winks at him. “Anytime. You’re always welcome.”

At first, silence hangs between the two of you. Billy doesn’t mention it as he drives you toward downtown, and your mind is elsewhere. You’re there physically, but your thoughts are consumed by how wrong it feels to be in the car with him. Your plans to keep your distance have been shattered by his unexpected presence. His decision to come to you makes everything ten times harder. You’re unsure how you’ll find the right words to express yourself without offending him—or worse, hurting him. But then again, maybe you’re overthinking it. Perhaps he doesn’t feel as connected to you as you do to him. Chances are, you’ll be the one left hurting in the end.

Billy casually suggests getting a milkshake at the diner, then lapses back into silence, leaving you unsure whether to thank him or ask him to break the quiet. He doesn’t make it easy. When he parks in front of the diner, he opens the passenger door for you. Physical contact has become second nature between you two—small, almost unconscious gestures, especially on his part. But they always send your heart racing. This time, as he touches your back, gently guiding you inside while holding the diner door open, your heartbeat spikes dangerously.

You usually have a sweet tooth, and the milkshakes at Starlight Grill are delicious, but today, your thoughts have robbed you of your appetite. Billy insists you get something, and when you hesitate, he suggests sharing a milkshake.

When the waitress brings the milkshake along with the bill, Billy takes the first sip. You reach into your pocket for some coins.

“What are you doing?”

“Just, paying.” You murmur absent-mindedly, counting the coins. Billy's hand appears in front of you, putting them aside.

“Put that away.”

You sigh, meeting his gaze. "Billy."

He casually slides the milkshake in front of you, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, completely unfazed by your feeble attempts to resist. The purple lights of the diner cast a soft glow, highlighting his features and making his mustache stand out more than usual. You can't help but marvel at how effortlessly handsome he always looks. Meanwhile, you feel out of place in your loose jumper, with no makeup and your hair barely combed.

You notice that there is only one straw in the milkshake. “Oh, they didn’t bring another one.”

“It’s fine. Drink it,” his features shifting to an amused look. “Unless it grosses you out.”

“No, no! Of course not.” you hastily assure him before bringing the straw to your lips. The rich taste of chocolate floods your senses with a pleasant sensation, despite your lack of hunger. You resist the temptation to indulge in a bit of the whipped cream from the top of the milkshake.

“Feel better today?” he asks as he watches you, leaning back against the bench.

“Uh, yes. A bit better.” you lie, your eyes on the table. You’re unable to look at him.

You instinctively tighten your grip on the cold glass of the milkshake, startled by the sudden warmth of his palm on your forehead.

“Yeah. No fever, anyway,” he says.

“How did you do on the test yesterday?” you ask instead, eager to change the topic.

Billy leans forward, resting his elbows on the table as he brings the milkshake closer to himself, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Eh, not bad. I think I passed," he replies before taking a sip from the straw. “Jesus, this shit is sweet as hell.” he mutters, peering down at the milkshake as if it personally wronged him.

You let out a soft laugh at his expression. When you sat down, he asked you what flavor you liked and ordered it without hesitation. You realize with a pang of guilt that you hadn't even bothered to ask him if he liked it.

“Sorry… too much?”

“Nah, it’s fine. Just a bit sweet.” he pushes the milkshake toward you, your fingers brushing each other as you take the glass. “I’m more of a savory type of guy.”

"Oh," you sheepishly respond, brushing your thumb against the cold glass to clear away some moisture. “I’m more of a sweet type of girl.”

"You are," he says, his voice carrying a subtle warmth that catches your attention.

You lift your gaze toward him, struck by the underlying tone in his words. Billy dips his pinky in the whipped cream and brings it to his mouth. Red lips suck around the skin, his tongue licking the whipped cream away. You take a sip of the milkshake to distract yourself from the stirring movement in your lower belly.

“So what’s your favorite?” he then casually asks, as if he didn’t just do the most provocative thing ever.

“My what?” you ask as if coming back to reality.

“Your favorite dessert.”

“Oh uhm, I guess my mom’s tiramisu,” you stop to think about all the summers spent eating your mom’s tiramisu in the back of your house in the garden, the happy memory becoming bittersweet. “I didn’t like it when I was younger, I used to make all of those faces when I tasted the coffee.” Billy snorts a soft laugh as he looks at you. “She used to make it all the time when it was warm outside.” you say as you play with the straw.”

“You know how to make it?”

“Yes. She taught me.”

“You’ll have to make me one, someday.”

You meet his eyes, still intently on you, and you lower your gaze while stretching your lips into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. How you wish there was a chance to do this.

“What’s yours?” you ask instead, ignoring how your heart is aching.

Billy hums thoughtfully, dragging the milkshake toward him. “I’d say the tacos from the Mexican joint in Mission Beach. Hands down.”

“What do they put in them?”

Billy sucks on the straw before setting the glass aside. “Okay, so picture this,” he leans his elbows on the table. “They have this way of cooking the beef, it’s tender and juicy ‘cause they dip it in the stew, and it’s seasoned just right."

A smile slowly spreads on your face without you realizing it as he gets enthusiastic about it.

“Then they sprinkle some lime on it.” he mimics the sprinkling, his eyes squinting a tiny bit. "And then there's the crunch of the shell, just crispy enough to contrast with the beef. Then they top it with cheese and jalapeños. Man,” you giggle as he lightly slaps his palm on the table. He turns his head to the side, momentarily lost in thought as he contemplates. “It’s something else.”

“It sounds delicious.” you nod, a laugh escaping your lips.

As Billy looks back at you, his face is closer to yours as you leaned on the table too. His blue eyes bore into yours. “It’s five-star type of food, babe. Unmatched.”

His voice is warm like dripping honey and your stomach flips, his half-lidded gaze trapping you there is both charming and dangerous. You’re scared of the things your body is feeling.

“I wish I could try it.”

“You will. Told you I would take you there.”

He scans your face, catching each of your reactions from up close as your breath hitches in your throat. “I thought you were joking.”

“I never was.”

You wonder what would happen if you just listened to your instincts right now. If only he lifted the sleeves of your sweater, he’d see the goosebumps on your arms. If he could press his ear to your chest, he’d hear your heart racing. But following your instincts feels too risky. A little voice inside reminds you that all this chemistry between you two might just be in your head. You're building castles in the air; your deluded heart is playing tricks on you. Tina’s voice chimes in too: “What would a guy like him want with someone like you?” So, you pull away, and as you do, your heartbeat slows down a little.

You clear your voice, grabbing the milkshake. “Anyway, I better get home soon. It’s almost ten.”

With only a little milkshake left, you finish it without meeting his gaze, deciding to switch the topic to how you caught up with homework while staying at home. He doesn’t comment on it, biting into it and telling you about the history test on that Wednesday.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” he asks you once on the drive home.

He lowers the volume of the radio, Eagles’ ‘Take it Easy’ reduced to background noise. You hesitate. You don’t know how to tell him. You’ve never been good at cutting ties with people. You’ve never been ready. You never will be.

“I’m just not in a good place right now.”

"Yeah, I gathered that much," Billy responds, his voice low and steady. "But what's got you feeling this way?"

You figure that the best way is to be straightforward, though.

“I know this might sound weird," you begin, already feeling a pang of regret for how you're about to phrase it. Your nails press into the palm of your hands as you twist them together, your eyes locked on the shifting scenery outside. “You’ll probably don’t understand it. But I think we have to stop seeing each other. Hanging around together.”

At first, your words hang heavy in the air, met only with silence that feels like a weight on your chest. You can't help but replay what you just said in your mind, wondering if you came off too harshly. It's a familiar feeling, the aftermath of saying something you can't take back, and in this moment, it feels far too aggressive.

As you battle with yourself, searching desperately for the right words to soften the blow, you find that every script you rehearsed in your head falls short. Billy's silence only adds to your internal turmoil, leaving you mentally slapping yourself for the brutal way you phrased it.

Billy licks his lips. “If I did something wrong,” he starts.

“No, it’s not that.”

“...Or if I made you feel uncomfortable, you gotta tell me.”

“No. Billy, please don’t think that. You haven’t done anything wrong.” you interject quickly, reaching out to touch his arm in reassurance.

He glances at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road, his expression unreadable. The tension in the car is palpable as he waits for you to explain further.

“I just…” you begin, running a hand through your hair in a nervous gesture. “I don’t think it’s good for you to be around me."

"Huh," he responds, his tone indicating he finds your reasoning perplexing. "What does that mean?"

You begin cautiously, choosing your words carefully, "I'm just not... I'm not exactly the embodiment of happiness, you know? And I don't want to bring you down with me."

"You think you're gonna bring me down?"

You nod slowly, unable to meet his gaze. "I just don't want to drag you into my mess," you admit quietly. “I have a lot to deal with myself. Please believe me when I say that it’s not a good idea.”

"That's it? That's why you think we should stop hanging out?" Billy's voice carries a blend of disbelief and skepticism as if he's attempting to peel back the layers of your explanation.

His response catches you off guard. Shouldn't your reason suffice? After all, it's what led to the end of friendships with Nancy and Claire. They understood and let you go. And deep down, you understand that too.

“No, it’s not just that…” you feel increasingly frustrated with the situation, it feels harder than you anticipated.

"Hey, if I'm not your cup of tea, or if I'm making you feel awkward, just say the word. No hard feelings. We can't all be everyone's favorite flavor. But let's keep it real, yeah?"

"No, it's not that at all, Billy!" you blurt out, your voice rising slightly with surprise. "I like you. I really do," you continue, your voice softening as shyness creeps in at the urgency of your confession. As you speak, Billy pulls the car to a stop in front of your place. "More than anyone else in this whole town."

Billy doesn’t talk for what seems like an eternity. You don’t dare to look at him. After almost a minute, he finally breaks the silence. “Okay, what is it, then?”

“It’s just…wrong.”

“Wrong?” he says. “Look, it’s not like I have a girlfriend and I’m ditching her to hang out with you or something.”

“Well, Tina doesn’t seem to be on the same page,” you mumble to yourself out of instinct.

Billy frowns. “What?”

That’s when you realize you talked out loud. You sigh, looking out of the window. You really hoped to avoid this conversation. It just feels wrong to use a lame excuse. You don’t wanna do that. It’s not working, anyway. You figure the best way to put it without having to unravel the whole thing.

“I don’t know what you guys are to each other-…”

“I fucked her once. That’s it.”

You wince at his words, carrying on. “...but she made pretty clear that I should stay away from you.”

At first you’re met with silence, but then Billy's reaction is a mix of disbelief and irritation. He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “She's nuts," he mutters, his tone laced with frustration. "Can't believe her. Jesus."

As you fidget with your hands in your lap, a sense of resignation washes over you. That doesn’t change things. You made up your mind already. They succeeded pretty well in making you see things for what they are. In a very sadistic way, that’s for sure. It is the reality nonetheless.

“Listen, don’t pay attention to her.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “It’s kinda hard, she’s really committed to making my life a living hell.”

Billy's expression shifts, his gaze now fixed on you with newfound seriousness. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, just…” you sigh. “It’s just what I said. Bottom line is, I’m not good for you, Billy. I’m messed up and I can’t give anything good. You should be spending time with people who are stable, who have something to offer.”

Billy turns his attention back to the trailer ahead. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he pieces together the puzzle. Before you can prepare yourself, he's already connecting the dots.

He scratches his chin, then looks back at you. “Does it have to do with you ditching school for the past days?” his tone calm but unwavering.

Your answer is instinctive and almost too immediate. "No, that's..." you start, but Billy cuts you off with a knowing look.

“Don't lie to me.”

You know if there’s one thing he doesn’t like, it’s when people lie to him. He told you that before. There is no way out of this. If anything surprises you about Billy, it’s his emotional intelligence. His ability to understand what you feel just like that. How he easily and often picks up what’s on your mind. You explain everything that happened to him, noticing how his face hardens progressively as you recount the events that have weighed heavily on you. From that moment Tina deliberately tripped you up in gym class, sending you sprawling to the ground in front of everyone, to the tense confrontation in the locker room. You feel drained after talking, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck those bitches.” he growls, his voice thick with anger.

“They’re right though. We really are different.”

“Different in what? I’m a guy, you’re a girl. But then?”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, your eyes fixed on the window.

“Well, tell you what, I like spending time with you. That’s all I know,” you turn in surprise at how bluntly he said those words. “Did we ever argue or anything?”

You think back on all the times you've spent together. Whenever you were with him, it felt like everything else faded away, and it was just the two of you against the world. There was never any arguing or discord between you; instead, he had a knack for making you forget about any troubles or worries you had. Being with him was like finding a safe haven, a place where you could just be yourself and feel at peace.

“No,” you admit, feeling a knot form in your throat.

“Do you feel any different when it’s just you and me?”

“No.”

“Are you ever bored when we hang out?”

“No, never.” you breathe out, shaking your head.

“Me neither. So it’s sorted.”

“Billy, I’m…I’m complicated. My life is complicated.”

He shrugs, shifting in his seat. “I like complicated.”

Billy's stubbornness despite the doors you're trying to close between you is overwhelming both in the best and worst way.

“I just don't think you really know what you're doing," you protest weakly, unable to shake the nagging doubts that linger in the back of your mind.

“Pretty sure I do.”

“Billy,” heat rises in your cheeks as shame gnaws at your insides, your heart weighing heavy. It's hard for you to acknowledge it, let alone put it into words. “Look at me,” you point at yourself, your throat burning.

Billy's eyes scan your face, a hint of amusement dancing in his features. “I am.”

You shake your head, your throat feels ready to burst from how much it hurts. “No. Look at you, then look at me. Look at this,” you gesture toward the darkened trailer.

“You serious?”

“I am. Trust me, you don’t want to…”

“Hey, hey. Sweetheart. Come on, now. Look at me.”

You realize Billy has leaned over the console as he gently grasps your chin. “I don’t care. All I know is that I like you, alright? I don’t give a shit about the rest.”

His words cut through you, threatening to shatter the fragile barrier holding your emotions at bay. His thumb delicately traces the curve of your chin as his piercing blue eyes search yours. Frozen in place, you dare not move or speak, afraid that the slightest exhale might betray the storm of emotions raging within you.

“You hear me?” he drops his head slightly, as he softly shakes your chin to get your attention, his eyes finding yours. “I don’t care.”

You content to nod, a tear breaking free and running down your cheek. Billy licks his lips, his face inching closer to yours. “C’mere.”

He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels as ancient as time itself, as though you've shared this in a thousand other lives. It's tender, lingering, filled with an unspoken longing that resonates deep within you. As you lose yourself in the kiss, his breath dances with yours, and you taste tobacco, mint and something distinctly him on his tongue, sending a wave of euphoria through you. Your hand instinctively rises, fingers curling gently around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, yearning for more. Your heart is beating so fast you swear it’s going to explode. As you break the kiss first in search of oxygen, you’re vaguely aware of his mouth seeking yours, his face tilting forward, his half-open eyes unfocused. His fingers travel on the back of your neck, curling around it and pressing your lips more firmly against his. It’s so good that it doesn’t feel real, your body is the only thing you're aware of. It's ablaze, your heart thundering in your chest, your breath resonating in the car. But he’s here too, he’s real. Real as one can be when you feel his hot skin against your fingers where you’re holding his shirt, as his mustache tickles your mouth, then your cheek, your neck.

He’s certainly real when his voice comes as a muffled and open-mouthed whisper against your skin, buried between your neck and your hair between kisses. “God, baby.”

It’s a soft plead, a gentle need that swells your heart. Your fingers are tangled through his curls at the nape of his neck. They’re as soft as you imagined them. You could’ve never imagined one day your fingers would run through them. His mouth finds yours again, your senses filled with the scent of him and you can’t help yourself and rest your hand on his cheek, wanting to feel him more. Time is not something tangible anymore. You don’t know how long elapses. It may be minutes, it may be hours. You just can’t seem to get enough of each other to finally break apart. Nothing has ever made you feel so good in a long time. That’s why you don’t question your tongue tangling with his, his hand searching for skin as it ventures beneath your jacket and settles on your waist, warm and big.

The loud thud of thunder outside makes you jump slightly on the seat, and with the realization that you must get inside, you slowly but finally break apart from him.

“I have to go.” you manage to say as his lips kiss your cheek and the corner of your eye instead.

His breath fans against your skin, a gentle caress that makes you shiver. Billy's eyes, still glazed with desire, slowly refocus as he registers your words. There's a flicker of disappointment, but he nods in understanding.

“Yeah. Yeah, you better get inside,” he replies in a husky voice, his eyes roaming over your face.

His lips are red and swollen with your kisses, you can’t help but steal another kiss which her eagerly accepts, planting a couple more against your mouth. They’re not as deep but full of meaning, resonating in the air.

“Call me tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes, I will,” you mumble, your cheek feeling red as you internally wish you could stay with the boy forever.

As you leave the car, the cold rain immediately envelopes you, sending shivers down your spine. The rain soaked through your clothes as you navigated through the darkness. As you reach the door, you steal one last look at Billy's car, watching as he drives away into the night, the memory of his touch still lingering on your lips.

#dacre montgomery #stranger things smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #dacryphilia #eddie munson #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x fem!oc #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader smut #billy hargrove smut #steve stranger things

113 notes · View notes

kaismasterlist · 5 days

Text

Clueless (Avenger!Bucky Barnes | Avenger Bsf!Reader) ❤️

Small World (Dark-Soft-Dark Robber + Burglar!Bucky Barnes | Reader) 🖤

The Storms NSFW Continuation (Dad!Johnny Storm | Mom!Reader) ❤️

Proud No More Continuation (Supreme Alpha!Steve Rogers | Alpha!Reader) 🖤

Exhibitionist Blowjob With Your Dark Alpha Boss (Husband!Steve | Omega Secretary!Reader) ❤️

Wearing Bucky's Dog Tags With Your Birthday Suit ❤️🖤

Giving In To Dark!Bucky 🖤

Sunshine (Recovering Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes | Lab technician!You) ❤️

Coy (Daddy!Steve Rogers | Shy Gf!You) ❤️

81 notes · View notes

imthebadguyyy · 11 months

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Hold Me In Your Arms Tonight

pairing : steve rogers x reader

fandom : marvel

synopsis : steve comes home from a mission, and all he wants is to be wrapped up in your warmth and in your arms.

a/n : i just wanted to write something tender and sweet and smutty so here ya go

warnings : smut

the usual murmur of the quinjet had dulled, into a thick and heavy silence. as the machine soared through the night sky, the avengers found themselves in a rare moment of quietude after a particularly intense mission.

the air inside the jet hung heavy with a mix of exhaustion, and tension.

tony as usual, was the first to break the deafening silence. reclining, in his seat, his signature smirk missing commented, "well, that was fun, wasn't it? remind me to thank fury for these vacations."

natasha, sitting across from him, raised an eyebrow, one hand pressing an ice pack to the indigo bruise blooming on her wrist.

"now's really not the time" she muttered, eyes gesturing towards steve, who looked the picture of defeat.

the mission had started promisingly and could have been regarded as an amateur operation. intel suggested a hydra base operating in a remote location, with plans for a powerful biological weapon that could endanger innocent lives.

steve and tony had decided that the entire team didn't have to come, so the two of them with natasha and thor had suited up and gone, leaving bruce, wanda, clint you and sam to wait in the compound. they had what they thought was a meticulous plan to infiltrate and neutralize the threat.

until they actually reached the base.

as the team breached the compound, it had become evident that hydra was one step ahead. the entire facility was a trap, a carefully orchestrated ambush. waves upon waves of highly trained soldiers overwhelmed the avengers, forcing them into a chaotic retreat, that had left most of them nursing minor injuries.

"we didn't know cap" nat said, looking at the simmering anger in steve's eyes.

steve didn't lift his eyes off the spot he was focusing at on the wall.

"they knew we were coming. how the hell did they know?" thor asked, slamming mjolnir down in the ground.

tony muttered something along the lines of "our intel was compromised" but steve didn't care.

as the silhouette of the avengers compound came into view and natasha heaved a quiet sigh of relief.

she knew that the only person who would be able to calm steve and get through to him was you, and that you'd be the only person he'd ever open up to a 100%

with a hum, the jet landed, and the four trooped out, to see an awaiting maria hill, a grim furrow in her brow.

"cap we need a debrief on the-" her words died on her tongue and she computed the glare thor sent her way.

she understood the message : leave him alone.

speaking of, steve had walked into the compound, stepping into the elevator, head dropping low, he finally let out a deep sigh, fingers pressing the 4th floor, wanting nothing more than to have you in his arms.

the ding of the elevator signalled his arrival to you before he did.

you were standing in the kitchen, listening to the merry bubble of the kettle as you boiled hot water for a warm cup of midnight tea.

tony had given you and steve the entire fourth floor as your residential area, and you couldn't thank him enough for the state of the art amenities and accommodation.

just as you put your two spoons of tea leaves in the ceramic blue teapot clint and his wife had gifted you for your birthday, you heard the elevator door open, and the heavy footfalls of your husband echoed in the hall.

smiling to your self, you poured the hot water from the kettle to the teapot, just as steve's muscular frame filled the door of the hallway, his long shadow preceding him as he walked into the kitchen.

steve could smell the scent of black tea before he saw you, the homely scent wrapping him a warm hug that he didn't know he needed.

there were softly lit candles glittering softly all around the penthouse, and fresh bouquets of flowers in every vase. the plush sofas looked freshly dusted and soft music was playing in the background

soft, muted lighting enveloped the space, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. the city lights beyond the windows twinkled like a myriad of stars, creating a breathtaking backdrop against the darkened sky.

but to steve, none of this mattered. the only view he cared about was the one of you, shuffling around the kitchen in fuzzy bunny slippers and your silk blue pyjamas.

he watched as you moved with a quiet confidence, navigating the familiar space with ease. the rhythmic clink of porcelain against the marble countertop echoing as the cups were placed gently on a tray as you selected delicate tea cups from the cupboard. he watched your fingers, adorned with subtle rings, tracing the edges of the cups with a practiced familiarity.

as steve observed you with a mixture of admiration and emotion, his gaze, fixed on you, spoke volumes as he recognized the beauty in the simplicity of this moment. the anxious lines on his face softened, revealing a depth of emotion stirred by the sight of someone he cherished engaged in such an ordinary yet intimate act.

"hi baby" you smiled at him, smile dipping when you observed at the tenseness in his body language. his shoulders were taut, remnants of anxious lines softly fading from his forehead as he looked at you.

"hey" he said, voice cracking slightly, even more as you let out a soft "oh" reaching him in two steps to wrap your arms around him.

in the dimly lit room, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken emotions and words, but you both knew he didn't need words, he needed the unspoken reassurance that you were there with him, physically, in the moment.

he stood there, shoulders slumped, carrying the weight of the world on his weary frame. even captain america got overwhelmed sometimes. you approached him with a gentle understanding, eyes reflecting both empathy and love.

as you reached out to him, arms enveloping him in a comforting embrace, he crumbled.

the embrace wasn't just a physical connection; it was a lifeline, a silent reassurance that in this moment of vulnerability, he wasn't alone. your fingers traced soothing circles on his back, a rhythmic gesture that mirrored the ebb and flow of emotions he was clearly feeling.

he buried his face in the crook of your neck, desperate to find solace in the softness of your presence. the scent of your hair, a mix of strawberry and vanilla, familiar and comforting, mingled with the quiet warmth of the room.

the thump of your heartbeat, pulsing through your body, steady and reassuring, echoed against his chest, a gentle reminder that they faced the challenges together, and that as you had stated in your vows, your hearts would beat together as one for the rest of your lives.

"we were so close, but everything fell apart. the intel was off, our intel was compromised, we were ambushed. the team got separated, and we couldn't prevent the disaster. it's like no matter what i do, it's never enough." he whispered, voice broken and eyes haggard, pulling back to look at you.

his eyes sought home in yours, desperate to find the love he needed so badly.

you listened attentively, absorbing the raw emotion in his voice. as he spoke, his hands clenched, betraying the frustration and helplessness he felt.

running your hands up and down his back, you whispered back, "you can't blame yourself for everything. you're only human. superhuman, sure, but still human"

steve ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, letting out a bitter chuckle.

"im supposed to be a hero, someone who saves the day. but what if I'm not cut out for this? what if I'm just making things worse?" he said, and you found tears rising to your eyes at the anguish your husband was in, blue eyes as stormy as the ocean, nothing but insecurity and fear reflecting in them.

you reached for his hands, holding them in a reassuring grip, fingers running over his knuckles in a pattern only you could interpret.

"darling, being a hero doesn't mean you always succeed. it means facing challenges, even when the odds are against you. it means being brave enough to admit when you may possibly make a mistake and it means allowing yourself to grow from the bad days. you can't control everything, but you can learn from it and keep going. you're not alone in this. you have all of us and we're always going to be there when you need us because you're always there when we need you. thats what makes you captain america, steve, your unrelenting ability to show empathy in the face of danger"

steve found solace in the warmth of your gaze. the weight on his shoulders didn't vanish, but the shared burden made it more bearable. "i love you so much" he said, leaning his forehead on yours.

bending down, he pressed his lips to yours, as you melted into the kiss, hands coming up to hold his jaw, as your thumbs ran along his cheekbone. he rested his palm on your waist, fingers splayed out and tracing a pattern, as his other hand reached up to caress your face.

you had to reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down by the neck to meet your lips. he pulled you impossibly closer to him, hands gripping you so tight as if you would vanish into thin air.

before you knew it his lips were heavy on yours, hot and needy, each kiss becoming more and more desperate as his hands roamed the expanse of your body.

his tongue pushed against yours urgently, but you broke apart, panting heavily, to kiss his cheek and whisper a soft "i love you"

steve swore his heart melted as you spoke, fingers caressing your cheek as he scooped you up from below, letting your legs wrap around his waist, hands gripping your thighs tightly as he guided the both of you to the bedroom.

the bedroom embraced an alluring intimacy, its subdued lighting casting a warm, hazy glow that danced across the plush surfaces. a large canopy bed, draped in rich, dark linens, stood as the focal point, its soft contours inviting and enticing. the plush cushions and silken sheets glowed softly in the dim lights,

the air was infused with a subtle fragrance of vanilla and lavender, creating a sensory tapestry that heightened the atmosphere.

the heavy curtains were drawn, swaying in the gentle breeze from an open window, allowing a filtered moonlight to cascade into the room, creating a soft interplay of light and darkness.

candles were strategically placed on various surfaces, flickering with a mesmerizing rhythm, casting enchanting patterns across the walls, rose petals scattered on the bed and the loveseat in bedroom.

steve carried you into the room, awestruck at how you had set up the room for his arrival.

"you did this baby? for me?" he asked, eyes softening. "all for you my love" you assured, smiling softly at him. "all of this and all of me is for you" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest.

you felt him shudder softly against you, and the sudden pick up in his pace as he dropped you gently against the bed.

"i adore you" he murmured, pressing kisses all the way from your head to your forehead, trailing down your face, from the curve of your nose to your plump cheeks, pressing delicate kisses to the soft skin, before ultimately stopping at your lips.

he pressed his pink lips to yours, lips moulding into one as he let his body hover over yours. his tongue darted out to lick your lip, begging for entry and when he squeezed your hip and you let out a moan, he slid his tongue into your mouth, tongue clashing against yours, teeth stopping to sink into your lower lip, pulling it back to watch it snap back into place.

you kiss down his jaw, reveling in the soft sighing that he floods your ear when you near his throat. he groans when your mouth latches onto that sweet spot by his shoulder, your hot tongue sliding against his neck, with your chapstick tasting of shea butter and cherry, fingers dancing across the hem of his suit like a tease. his arms slide down to your top, the silky material scrunching up as he pulls it up, marvelling at the skin below.

"touch me" you whisper against his mouth with swollen lips and nudging noses. he sighs at the phrase, sea blue eyes never once leaving the comfort of yours. "touch me, use me, use me to get rid of your stress" you whisper, rocking your hips slowly against his.

you could feel his hard on against you, and you gently rolled your hips against his.

you were sure it got hard, this facade of being perfect all the time. so maybe just this once he needed to let go. let go of the gentleman person and fuck you raw till he was calmed down and satiated.

your shirt rides up even higher as steve drags a rough palm over your ribs, his rough hands have you jittering. his head rests on your stomach, lips pecking the area around your belly button and down your hip bone until you’re rotating your hips around him. "you're absolutely unbelievable" he groans as he gently licks around your sensitive belly button. he groans in pleasure when you tug on his hair, smiling when you say, "i dont know how lucky I got with you" he murmured.

"touch me. just touch me like you won’t ever stop" you whimper out, and steve studied the want in your glassy eyes and nodded softly, stroking his finger on either side of your cheek. the intimacy of the moment is jarring against how desperately the both of you want each other. but it's sensual and sweet because its a long buildup his finally being at peace.

agonizingly slow, his fingers dip down the waistband of your panties, cotton rubbing against the back of his hand as he curls his fingertips towards your pussy. the gentle notion makes your breath hitch, especially when he spreads your folds apart to expose the hood of your clit.

his middle finger circles draw leisurely over the sensitive nub with slow, rough circles and your thighs twitched.

his voice hitches in his throat as he observes your reaction. "oh, doll, you’re — oh, you’re just dripping, aren’t you?" he groans as you guide his hand further, the pads of his fingers dragging your arousal against your wet entrance. "my gorgeous, gorgeous girl" he whispered, pressing a sugar sweet kiss to your jaw.

"I'll always love you no matter what" you moan, scratching at his shoulders shamelessly, rocking on the heel of his hand for more friction. your eagerness spurs him on and so he increases the pressure, skimming his fingers over your folds and pressing ever-so-tantalizingly near your hole before he returns back to your clit. "fucking tease" you whine and he smirks.

your steve is usually demure even in bed, ever the perfect gentleman, gentle with you as if you'd snap into two if he was too harsh with you.

but this steve was daring and experimenting with his rough side.

your next sentence died in your throat, a soft gasp leaving your lips when he pushed his finger inside you, slow and deep enough to rip a whine right out of your throat from the stretchs.

he inhales loudly, eyes fixating on your mouth when you hopelessly sigh against his neck. you shift your knee higher up his leg, giving him more access to finger you. he hums at your expressions, mirroring them when you suckle dark marks just beneath his sharp jawline.

he mouths at your shoulder, leaving glistening patches of saliva in the wake of his sloppy kisses. you rock against the heel of his palm, mewling as he drags his fingers against your walls and he muffles his own moans against your skin.

"you’re so perfect" he groans, fucking his fingers in and out of you. the noises that leave your pussy and his throat are sinful, sounding like the harmonious mixture of splashing waves and delicate moans, his hand cupping your mound while he fingered you impatiently.

"fuck, Y/N. you’re making quite the mess, aren’t you, my angel? god, your moans are so fucking sweet to listen to"

"steve, your fingers..." you watch his wrist snap against you, juices squelching around him. you nearly sob, waterline beginning to water as the pleasure intensifies, "you get me so wet" you whimper and you hear the groan he tries to suppress at the juxtaposition of your angelic voice and face and the filthy words coming out of your pretty mouth.

"that’s good. I love pleasing you, you know that?" he asks as you clamp down onto the crook of his neck, teeth stifling your wrecked moans as he curls his middle and ring finger against that spongy spot inside you.

his touch is generous, and accompanied by his weathered hands, you can feel your orgasm approaching soon. he fucks you faster, thumb rubbing at your clit hard.

while others would resort to their own personal pleasure to de stress, it's your pleasure that brings steve relaxation. the fact that he could draw earth shattering orgasms from you was what helped him feel good and he knew that it was only when you were completely satisfied that he would be too.

you cry out into his chest, bite marks littering his skin as you hold him tight and gracelessly grind against him until you lose control over your climax.

your body shakes from your orgasm, gradually and slowly, steve's fingers scissoring carefully in and out of you.

your pussy pulses needily between your thighs, toes curling as you focus your attention on steve undressing. his suit comes off, discarded somewhere in some corner, his under clothes come off, and then finally, he drags his gray boxers down his legs, and his cock stands proudly, slapping against his stomach as he releases it from it's prison.

you moan as you take in the sight of his thick cock, long and girthy and big enough to leave you breathless as it always did. steve after all was a supersoldier, and his cock was to match. he also had incredible stamina and you knew he'd leave you exhausted.

he nears you again, heavy against you and you reach down to stroke him, smiling up at him, realising your hand doesnt fit all of him into your palm. his cock twitches again when you moan, a throb settling at the base of his spine with an uintelligible moan.

"stevie, baby, i want nothing more-" you strain, reaching behind your own hips to take ahold of his cock and line the weeping tip up perfectly "than for you to fuck me. i want you to fuck your pain and your distress away" you say, and his eyes darken with lust, the baby blues fading to black, like a dark and thunderous sky.

his dick catches against your clit first, causing your body to jolt in shock before you sweep him through your dripping folds. he grabs ahold of your hips, seemingly spellbound as to where else to hold you. his eyes flicker all across your bare skin, unable to settle on the best spot.

his teeth reach down to grab your nipple in between them, one hand reaching up to fondle the other. his tongue darts around the perk nipple, sliding all around it, saliva dripping all around it. your hips rut wildly at the pleasure on your sensitive nipples, and the feeling of the rough pads of his fingers toying with the other.

a chorus of gasps sounds between the two of you as you slowly roll down onto his dick, harmonizing almost like a symphony. he stretches you deliciously, and he's big. very big. perfectly filling. It’s akin to losing all sense of direction, unsure of up from down, left from right. your hips stutter and still from the shock because through your haze you feel steve thrust upward and into you to bridge the gap and you whine as he brushed a sensitive spot within you.

a high pitched wine of "oh fuck!* leaves your lips, and a deep groan echoes in steve's chest.

you groan, finally feeling him sink all the way into your pussy, already shaking from the overwhelming pleasure. before you can comprehend, hes bottoming out in your slick pussy.

rising back over the curve in his cock, you lift yourself back up until only his tip is pressed up against your pussy. you pause before you sink back down. you see the almost animalistic need in steve's eyes as he gazes up at you through his lashes, eyes following the clenching of his jaw.

the wet sound of your pussy being filled over and over echoes, the air that had held a chill seemingly warming at your shared activity. you can barely hear his groans, your heartbeat thrumming so loud in your ears that you’re convinced he can probably feel it thudding in your walls.

your eyebrows arch in bliss as the ridge of his head catches up against something so incredible that you’re drowning in pleasure, a light that must surely be heaven flooding your eyesight.

but it's not heaven no, it's a sight far better : your husband, mouth agape and head thrown back fucking into you like your life depended on it.

what you didn't expect was the harsh smack to your ass, his big hand smacking the sensitive skin of your ass and you let out an "oh!" skin stinging and pussy dripping, before the longing for more fills you.

"you like that, my pretty girl?" he asks, pinching the fat of your hips.

you merely moan in response, mind melting at the pleasure. a second smack to the ass follows, and a large vein-y hand grips your throat and forces you to look at him.

"words doll, words" he chides, and you stutter out a shaky "yes" your movements are stuttering at the way a familiar simmering feeling begins deep inside your abdomen, but steve doesn’t want you to stop. his hands take a firm grip of your hips, forcing them down as he begins to thrust up and into you in that same desperate pace.

he continued to brush against that part of you that just obliterated any coherent thought, your mind melting into sludge as pleasure overtook every nerve in your body.

his hands traced over your ass, still hovering between the edge of good boy steve and bad boy steve, but all it took for him to slip was your whimper of "spank me harder daddy" and he was gone.

your sweet gentle steve was replaced by an animal, hands delivering harsh smack after smack to the sensitive skin of your ass, feeling it burn red hot as his large lands landed on your ass with a harsh unoact.

the filthy sound of his hand slapping the jiggly surface of your ass and the sloppy, wet sound of his dick pounding into your pussy echoed around the room, and you had never been more glad for the fact that your floor was completely soundproofed.

you’re not exactly sure what part of his body you’re holding onto, the muscles canvas all melting into one, so far away from comprehension, but you know you’re holding it in a bruising grip, one that leaves a perfect impression of each of your fingertips that would most definitely remain imprinted on his skin.

sweat beaded and dripped down his forehead, as he continued thrusting and pounding into you as if his life depended on it.

your mewls and whimpers perfectly complimented his grunts and groans as his hips snapped further into yours.

your back arched off of the bed as he let your leg rest on his shoulder, pushing the other one away from you so you were perfectly spread out, pushing one leg far away enough so that it was almost touching your ear

the smirk on his lips told you that it was gonna be a long night and that steve wasn't done with you just yet. he grabbed your face, fingers lacking their usual gentility, digging into your cheekbones, before pushing your face sideways into the silky pillow, making you close your eyes at the contrasting sensation of your hot cheeks against the cold pillow, the feelings setting your body on fire.

the sensation of you digging your nails into his back, had his hips falterring and stuttering slightly as he let out another lke growl into his ear, as he allowed himself a moment to bask in the burn of the sting before regaining his pace and thrusting back "you're so, so fucking good, just squeezing me so well hmm?" he growled, grunting as your pussy squeezed him harder and your eyes shut.

you only raked your nails down harder, although your moans were slightly muffled, and the desperate whines leaving your lips fuelled, him, as he continued snapping his hips into you, nails digging into your thigh, the pleasurable sting sending you spiraling. you could feel ths tight muscles rippling in his back, and you scratched down the bare expanse of his back, knowing it always drove him crazy.

the red hot pleasure in the pit of your stomach began to tighten, making you pant. he started guiding his cock deeper into you, which you didn't think was possible, and placed your hand in the outline of his cock in your tummy, and the filthy sound of your wetness and the sounds of your skin slapping together echoed across the hotel room.

the bed began to knock against the wall, the thumping sounding sweeter than the sweetest symphony you had ever heard.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head once again, mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure. for a second, you thought you had floated into another dimension, a low hum filling your ears, and your body convulsing in pleasure.

you heard steve moan your name, before letting out a low grunt, feeling him release his chokehold on your throat and hips, watching as you squirted all over him.

your cum splattered him all over, and your vision almost went black from how hard you had just squirted on him.

he reached out to collect your cum on his fingers, licking it, moaning at your sweet taste. the sight had you blushing.

you thought you were done, but just as you began to come to terms with the force of your orgasm, you felt his thumb on your clit, making you jerk your hips away, shaking your head. "daddy please, no more, i can't, not anymore" you whined out, feeling your pussy throb.

"yes you can, one more my doll, just give me one more" he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again harshly, in a rough, dirty, demanding kiss.

you could feel his hips stuttering, his cock beginning to pulse inside you, his thrusts becoming sloppy, signalling he was close to his own orgasm.

you moaned into his mouth, taking the opportunity to suck his tongue. "come on captain, cum for me, wont you? you work so hard and I'm so fucking proud of all your hard work" you whispered into his ears, licking at the shell of his ear

at your words, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his tongue poking out to lick patterns on the skin there, and you could hear his low, soft grunts as he chased his release, making the veins in his neck pop.

you could see his body glistening in the layer of sweat that had covered him, he continued to thrust into you for a second or two more, before a deep groan left his swollen lips, and an even deeper moan of your name echoed in your ear, as he spurted his cum into your warm pussy with a groan, your pussy clamping down on him like a vice, milking his cock

your body shuddered at the warm liquid dripping into you in hot spurts, covering your pussy in his cum, moaning in pleasure as the warmth of his release spread through you, enveloping you in a warm daze. panting softly, he stayed enveloped in your warm walls.

the both of you cuddled into the silk sheets, the aur conditioning doing little to cook your overhead bodies. steve pressed tender kisses to your face and body, whispers of "my beautiful girl, my angel, my doll, i adore you" leaving his lips like a mantra.

his hands, now no longer rough with want, traced soft patterns on your flushed skin.

"was that too rough for you?" he asked, concern etched in his eyes and worry lines appearing on his face.

"not at all" you said, quickly quelling his fears.

"you should do that again" you smirked, giggling when he blushed red. "thank you for that my love" he said, raising your knuckles to his lips to press a soft kiss to them.

"you don't have to thank me, steve. I'm always here for you no matter what" you murmured.

you were slowly sinking into a daze, but you registered him pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and heading to the bathroom

"I'll be back in just a second honey, I'm just getting some towels to clean us up" he explained, grinning at the pout adorning your bruised lips.

sure enough he came back, with cold towels to wipe you up with and a fresh set of pyjamas (his shirt and your shorts) to slip into, gently tugging you into the clothes and cleaning up the sticky mess on your thighs and cleaning you up.

he brushed the stray strands of your hair away from your face, pressing a soft kiss to your nose then your forehead, and then your lips.

he fed you a glass of cold water, and a piece of chocolate for a little bit of energy in the morning. cleaning himself up, he slipped into bed with you, his large arms wrapping you up, his head buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as you snored softly beside him.

in the warmth of your embrace, he felt an unspoken reassurance. as he held you close, the rhythmic beating of your heart echoed a comforting melody

in that tender moment, he realized that in your arms, he was not just physically close, but emotionally anchored. the world outside ceased to matter as he embraced the profound sense of safety and love that enveloped the both of you, creating a sanctuary where worries melted away, leaving only the simple joy of being together.

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loveshotzz · 2 years

Text

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Summary: Eddie hooks you up with an eighth after showing up to his place strapped for cash.

Warnings: Just horny for Eddie to play with some tiddies. Virgin Eddie, slight perv! Eddie. Corruption kink if you squint. 18 plus No Minors!

Author’s Note: I dedicate this to my sweet gorgeous wife @myobmaya for helping me create this story with our many late night whoring sessions about Eddie. I love you bb 💖

Tag List: @snapped-chopstick @bimbobaggins69 @sammararaven @dixontardis @hanahkatexo @heyyimmisunderstood @anxietybbie-blog @skyfullofsong123 @briistrash @thicksexxualtension

Eddie’s eyes are trained on your tongue as it slides over the adhesive seal of the rolling paper. The way you were looking up at him through your lashes while you did it felt intentional, feeling it in the way his jeans tightened.

Adjusting himself subtly in his seat on the couch, it didn’t help the fact the you happened to be on your knees in front of him. Leaning over the table slightly not to spill any weed on the floor giving him the perfect view down your tank top. It had been a particularly hot summer day, causing there to be a light sheen of sweat on your skin from your walk over here. He watched a drop slowly slide down from the nape of your neck to the curve of your cleavage and he couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight.

“Thanks again Eddie, I really owe you one for this.” Your sweet voice breaks his focus, brown eyes meeting yours trying to comprehend the words that just left your mouth.

The knowing smirk tugging at your lips makes his face heat up, scarlet spreading from his neck to his cheeks. He’d been caught.

“Quit being a perv Munson.” You tease, you’d be lying if his wandering eyes didn’t go straight to your ego. Eddie was cute. A flustered Eddie was even cuter.

“Sorry! They’re just kind of out right now.” He tries to reason with you but even he knows that’s not a real excuse. Rubbing his hand down his face he tries to shake the image of what he thinks your tits look like out of his head.

“What exactly is out right now? Care to elaborate?” Cocking your eyebrow you play dumb, twirling the joint in between your fingers as you light it.

Eddie’s eyes widen not expecting you to put him on the spot like this. Leaning forward he starts rubbing the tops of his thighs nervously. He can feel his palms getting sweaty through the holes in his jeans.

“Come on, really? You’re gonna make me say it?”

Taking a hit from the joint you let the smoke fill your lungs, leaning your head back slightly your eyes catch the bulge in his pants he’s trying to hide.

“I don’t know what I’m making you say Eddie.”

Getting up from your place on the floor you walk around the coffee table taking another long drag. Eddie’s eyes are everywhere as he takes your curves in, approaching him like an animal stalking it’s prey. Eddie just happened to be very willing prey.

Standing between his spread out legs you lean forward one hand pressed to the couch cushion beside his head. Your other holds out the joint for him to take. From this angle everything he was doing his best not to look at was right in his face.

Gulping loudly Eddie tries his best to keep his eyes connected to yours but when he looks over to grab the joint he just can’t help himself.

“Are you talking about these Eddie?” Your eyes shoot down to the tops of your breasts and then back up to his eyes, his hyper focused stare never meets your gaze. The joint in his hand collecting ash threatening to fall onto the couch.

When his knee starts bouncing nervously you decide to give him a break, smirking you pull yourself out of space his shoulders visibly slump relieved.

“Jesus Eddie, it’s like you’ve never seen a woman’s tits before.” Snatching the joint from his hand you ash it for him before taking another long drag looking at him with curious eyes.

His face somehow turns an even deeper shade of red and his chocolate orbs still won’t meet yours as they search for anything else in the room. The realization that Eddie “The Freak” Munson might be a virgin baffles you.

The handcuffs in his room, the confident demeanor mixed with being a slight asshole to every one, on top of the fact he could play guitar. Getting laid shouldn’t be a problem for someone like him, at least that’s what you had assumed.

“Look, it’s not like women are exactly lining up at my trailer door sweetheart.” He finally gives when he looks up at you.

A part of you feels bad for taunting him, but an even bigger part was turned on by the aspect of how worked up you must be getting him with all of your teasing. The small crush you harbored mixed with the way his eyes couldn’t stay off your body made you feel bold. Besides he was giving you free weed and smoking you up, it’s the least you could do.

Before you can overthink it to much, sticking the joint back into your mouth you use your hands as leverage on the denim of his shoulders, straddling his lap. The feeling of his painfully hard erection is clear as day under the soft fabric of your biker shorts. Your own arousal starting to collect in your panties, it takes everything in you not to grind your hips against him.

“Holy shit I-“ Eddie’s eyes look like they might pop out of their sockets, hands twitching at his sides unsure if he should touch you or not.

“Well, you scratch my back.” His stare is disbelieving as he watches you pull the half way smoked joint from your lips and place it between his. “I’ll scratch yours.”

Eddie takes a drag as you watch the gears in his head start to turn as you slowly push the straps of your tank top down.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, it’s just an eighth you buy from me all the time.” It almost makes you laugh how much of a gentleman he’s still trying to be when the erection pressed against your swollen clit seems to get even harder.

“I know I don’t have to Eddie, I want to.” Smirking you start to pull your top down revealing the lace underneath.

“Jesus H Christ.” he gasps joint dangling loose from his mouth.

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth you can’t help the way your own face heats up at the hunger that’s dancing around his brown eyes devouring the newly exposed skin.

You can feel the heat of his calloused hands tentatively rest on the tops of your thighs. Scared if he really touches you, you’ll change your mind. Taking the joint thats dangerously close from falling out of his mouth, twisting slightly you lean your body back to reach the ashtray, the new angle pushes him in between your folds the sensation making you gasp. His cock twitching in response underneath you.

“Are you trying to fucking kill me?” He groans throwing his head back, eyes closed with his brows knitted tightly together. The sight of him so fucked out already makes you clench at nothing. “If you’re trying to get free weed for life, it’s fucking yours.”

The laugh that bubbles up from your chest sounds almost evil. You were enjoying this way too much. Reaching behind, your fingers start to working the clasps of your bra. Eddie catches the light noise of your actions and his eyes are back on you. His fingers on your thighs start to dig themselves into the soft meat of them, watching you slowly slip the last bit of fabric away from his view.

Eddie has to actively remember how to breathe when you’re fully exposed to him. Somehow you’re even more gorgeous then whatever late night fantasies of you he’d indulge himself in. Your tits were better then the ones in the magazines he jacked himself off to, even better then the ones in the pornos. They were real and right in from of him and god did he hope you’d let him touch them. He could feel the zipper start to press into the sensitive head of his cock, his fingers digging themselves even deeper into your thighs, nails biting into your skin.

“Still with me?” Placing your hands on top of his, you try to get his attention. His fingers flex relaxing slightly at the sound of your voice, and you can tell he has to try and tear his eyes away from your chest. They are unrecognizable when they meet yours, almost like his pupils had taken over any trace of brown. There’s no control when your hips roll against his, the intensity in his stare making you need friction.

“Fuck me.” Eddie’s voice comes out low with a loud breath exhaling through his nose.

Fingers wrapping around his, you tug at his tight grip. Letting go he lets your hands guide his to your chest, disbelief written all over his face.

“Do you want to touch them Eddie?” Your question makes his eyes roll in the back of his head, a low groan leaving his throat.

“Jesus, you think you have to ask sweetheart?”

Leaning forward keeping his wrists in a tight hold away from where he wants them. You get close enough for your lips to brush against the shell of his ear. Lingering you let your breath tickle against him, enjoying the way he shudders against you.

“No, I just wanted to hear you say it.” He can hear the smirk in your voice before your lips wrap tightly around his earlobe sucking gently. At the same time you press his big hands to your chest, nipples perking up instantly against his palm.

“Holy fucking shit, Jesus fucking Christ ” The intensity of it all almost becomes too much for Eddie, worried if you move even slightly he’ll cum.

Eddie takes a minute to gain his composure, now convinced you were a succubus here to take his soul. He would gladly give it to you, that and all the weed in his trailer if that’s what you were after.

With your hands returning to their place on his shoulders. Eddie squeezes the plush softness of your breasts, feeling the full weight of them in his hand. Fingers spread out, gripping and cupping, pushing them together and pulling them apart. He was like a kid playing with a new toy.

Curiously he pinches one of your hard nipples between is finger tips, the sensation making you whimper and grind against him.

“Eddie-shit.” You close your eyes when he does it again, letting yourself continue to find the friction you desperately need against your clit. You can feel Eddie press his hips up helping you feel all of him, his big doe eyes watching you fall apart under his touch. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence grow in his chest, you liked what he was doing.

“Yeah? You like that?” Eddie does it to both nipples at the same time, making you close your eyes taking your bottom lip between your teeth. All you do is nod unable to find your voice.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He says it in a way like he’s talking to himself.

He pushes them up from the bottom before smashing them back together, your hard nipples almost touching. His face gets close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin, when you look down his eyes are staring up at you, and you already know what he wants to do.

“You can suck them if you want baby.” The pet name leaves your mouth far too easily. You don’t even know if he catches it, his mouth warm and ready capturing one of your pert nipples as soon as you give permission.

Sucking hard he roughly jiggles the one that’s not occupied by his mouth, completely losing himself in them. When his tongue swirls around your areola you don’t know who’s eyes roll harder in the back of their heads.

“Jesus, Eddie you sure you’ve never done this before?” You gasp when his teeth gently tug.

Humming Eddie just shakes his head refusing to break his mouth away from you. You can feel the delicate skin start to bruise under his busy mouth as he starts working on the other one.

Abandoning all self control you start grinding down on him with no shame, your arousal becoming too much to handle. Closing your eyes, he brings your breasts back together his tongue darting from one nipple to the other. Trails of salvia coating them, Eddie doesn’t think he could ever get enough of this as he starts bucking up meeting your thrusts. He can feel your pussy lips wrapped around his length through his denim and he thinks he might lose his mind.

The sound of his ringed fingers harsh smack to the side of your boob makes your eyes snap open. The sting adding more to the pool of slick in your underwear. Eddie’s looking at you through half lidded eyes, his hormones completely taking over. Maintaining eye contact with him you grind down on his erection painfully slow with all of your weight.

Arching an eyebrow, the confident boy you know comes out at your reaction. Slapping them again with more force and you can’t hold back anymore feeling yourself close to getting off on his hard on. His eyes watch amazed as your stretch marks dance across your skin with each slap.

“I want to fucking live in there.” He groans pushing them together one more time, as his face inches closer. You brace yourself for the onslaught of his tongue again.

When it never comes you look down confusion written all over you features. Before words can even leave your mouth he shoves his face completely between them. Moaning loudly at contact pushing himself even further into the folds of your breasts, his nose brushing against your sternum as he rubs his face all over the softness of your skin. His big fingers grip them tight against his face not worried about the lack of oxygen. Inhaling deeply, the scent of your sweat mixed with your arousal soaking through your shorts is so sweet he knows he’s close to cumming.

The animalistic noises that start coming from buried between your breasts makes your wetness pool so much that each movement of your hips feels like your gliding. Watching Eddie completely lose himself in your body was now your number one kink, silently refusing for this to be your last time watching him fall apart underneath you.

Leaving his shoulder one of your hands tangles themselves into his messy waves, you knew he wasn’t going to hear a word you said to him right now. Yanking back with enough force not to hurt him, his head peels from your chest with a loud pop of his lips. Mouth slightly open his full lips are swollen and pink, a light sheen of his own spit coating them. With lids half closed he looked drunk. Just when you thought you couldn’t possibly get any wetter.

“I wanna kiss you when I cum.” You pant, your hips bringing you closer to the brink. The blissed out look on his face almost enough to send you over the edge right now.

Eddie moans loudly when your lips meet his with force, your tongue slipping into his open mouth. He tasted like weed and your strawberry body lotion making your brain hazy, your want becoming all consuming like his.

When his tongue meets yours it’s your turn to lose control, untangling your fingers from his hair you push him back against the couch scooting yourself up on his lap. His hands find their way back to your chest, fingers greedy for more. The new angle mixed with his rough touches send you straight to your high, your body shuddering against him as it crashes through you. Fingers digging into his battle vest, moaning his name into his mouth.

“fuck, fuck, fuuuuck” Breaking from your mouth Eddie’s shuddering beneath you, his firm grip on your tits becoming hard enough you know they’ll be hand shaped bruises in the morning. In this moment watching him cum completely at your mercy, you could care less. Touching your tits had made the mean and scary freak of Hawkins a whimpering mess underneath you.

When Eddie finally catches his breath, his chocolate eyes look like the ones you had grown so fond of again. His fingers start to relax but they still don’t leave their place.

“So, you literally never have to pay for weed again.” He finally gives, goofy grin that makes your heart flutter gracing his handsome features.

Throwing your head back your laugh echos through his trailer, the Judas Priest record that had been playing finally cutting off.

“I’m gonna hold you to that Munson.” You tease, looking down at him. Eddie looked like a man at complete ease, the first time you’d ever seen such a relaxed expression on his animated face.

“You can hold me anytime you want Princess, trust me.” His grin never leaving, his hands finally show you mercy landing back on your thighs.

Leaning forward with one hand cupping his cheek, your thumb drags across his plump bottom lip. Even after everything you can still hear his breath hitch under your touch.

“I know I can.” Cockiness drips from your words before claiming his swollen lips one more time.

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