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#steve x female reader
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Grumpy old man | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> BestFriend!Steve Rogers x BestFriend!Female!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Steve is grumpy all day since he had seen you with an agent who is better known as a playboy.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.159
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> allusion of smut, fluff
𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> hiii darling! so I've a request for Steve Rogers🥰 smutty Steve thing. best friends to lovers? Maybe Steve sees "his" girl talking with another agent or something ( platonic) and he's a bit jealous? She could find him being grumpy as hell all day so she goes to his room ask what's wrong?so the feelings and jealousy just comes out and he tells her how much he's in love? She can kiss him to shut him up? and leads to smut? Lots of love 🥰🥰 @rogersbarber
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the requests. It’s not with a lot of smut but I hope you still like what I made with your request.
𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 1K Follower Special | “Me and.… are just friends. You’re kidding, right? …. looks at you like you’re their entire world.” | @lives-in-midgard
Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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Blue eyes piercing in your back, he narrows and his jaw is clenched while he looks at you talking to another agent. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous — you’re best friends — but he just can’t help himself feeling that way. Especially when you’re talking to the agent, who is better known as the playboy.
Usually Steve isn’t a man who gets jealous, maybe because he doesn’t like a woman the way he likes you. But the two of you have been best friends forever, and he doesn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you because he fell for you. Little does he know that you’re just as much in love with him, and even though you like talking to the agents, none of them is like Steve or could give you the feelings you feel when he is around you or touches you. Even the slightest touch of him causes a desire inside of you.
Steve hums, rolling his eyes, when you hug the agents before you turn around and see Steve waving at him. He doesn’t wave at you; he just looks at you with narrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw. In his hand, he holds a piece of cake, which he squeezes, breaking it and letting it fall on the surface of the table.
“Hey, grumpy. What’s wrong, huh?” You ask teasingly, but Steve doesn’t answer.
He takes a bite of the cake, filling his mouth with it over and over again. You giggle slightly, taking a seat next to him and facing him. You look at him while he eats the cake with his grumpy expression.
When he’s finished and still doesn’t answer you, you place your hand on his shoulder, looking at him with a pout on your lips. Steve also ignores that one; he just turns away, gets up from the chair, and walks along the floor to his room.
“He’s been grumpy all day, hasn’t he?” Natasha asks, and you nod.
She is standing at the door, looking after Steve, before she turns toward you and walks closer, taking a seat in the chair next to you. She smiles at you, placing her warm, encouraging hand on your shoulder.
“Maybe you should talk with him.”
“About what? He didn’t tell me why he was grumpy.”
“Don’t act like you’re stupid; we both know you’re not stupid,” she says, but you just furrow in confusion. “Everyone can see that you like him, and he likes you.”
“Me and Steve are just best friends,” you say, smiling when you think about the man who owns your heart.
“You’re kidding, right?” She asks, but you shake your head.
Even when you could imagine being more than just friends, Steve probably doesn’t feel the same way about you. And you don’t want to tell him because when he doesn’t feel the same, it could ruin your friendship. So you just keep it to yourself and admire the older man whenever he is around you; you enjoy his soft touches or the cuddles during your movie nights.
“Steve looks at you like you’re his entire world.”
You gasp. Does he really look at you like that? Could he do it because he likes you more than you think, or is he just looking at you like that because that’s what best friends are doing? You’re too deep in your thoughts to realize another word that Natasha says until he taps your shoulder and brings you back into reality.
She turns the chair around and pushes you up, making you stand in front of her and look in the direction of the floor. Natasha rolls her eyes, chucking softly while she gets up as well, and pushes you in front of her through the room.
“Nat— I don’t think I should tell him now. Haven’t you seen how grumpy he was?” You ask, thinking to stop Natasha from pushing you further through the floor.
Before you can say something else, you’re standing in front of Steve’s door. Natasha knocks at the door, and then she walks to her room. Just in time, she closed her door when Steve opened it in front of you. He is still looking at you with his grumpy expression, and it makes him look pretty cute. You can’t stop yourself from giggling softly.
“Stevie,” you say, and he just nods.
“Wanna come in?”
He takes a step to the side, making space for you to enter the room before he closes the door behind you. You’re inhaling his scent deeply; it immediately relaxes you, and you walk with him to his bed, letting yourself fall down on it. Steve sits next to you, his back resting against the head board while he looks at you. His blue eyes are glistening, and a small smile appears on his lips when your eyes meet.
“Why are you so grumpy today?”
Steve’s gaze drops, his smile fades away, and he plays with his fingers in his lap. He always does when he is nervous, and you place your hand on his leg and draw small circles on it to clam him down. Steve wants to tell you what’s wrong and why he is grumpy, but he doesn’t know how. His hands are shaking and sweating, and he needs to rub them over his pants covered thighs to dry them. Steve sighs, swallowing harshly; his cheeks heat up, and then he looks at you.
“I—you've just talked with him. He is a playboy, and you were so close to him,” Steve says, lifting his hands.
He slides his fingers through his soft blond hair. Steve sighs deeply, looking away before he turns to face you again.
“He will only fuck you. He— he doesn’t like you like—“
“Like what, Steve?” You ask with a smile.
“Like I do.”
He turns away, blushing immediately. He rubs his hands once again over his pants. You smirk, turning around and getting on his lap. Steve looks confused for a moment, but when you capture his cheeks with your hand, he smiles softly. He leans closer, his breath hitting your lips, and you shiver slightly. Steve breaks the distance between the two of you, pressing his soft lips on yours and his hands finding their way to your hips.
Steve pulls you closer until you’re sitting on his growing bulge. It’s pressing uncomfortably in his pants and causes some friction between your legs when you slowly move your hips against him. You moan softly while Steve pulls away and looks with desire in his blue eyes into yours.
“I’m in love with you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Stevie.”
You smirk when you rock your hips against him, and he moans. Steve looks through his lashes, pushing his hips up to meet yours. His hands roam over your body, and he kisses along your neck, causing you to moan louder and rock your hips harder against his length.
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Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf
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ganjas-shit · 19 hours
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Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart
Warnings: sexual thoughts, angst, mentions of ptsd, Neil Hargrove, mentions of loneliness and isolation.
Pairings: main pairing Billy x reader, some slight Steve x reader
Summary: Your longing for an exciting romance finally comes true when Billy Hargrove becomes your next-door neighbor. But is love everything you thought it would be?
Authors note: hi everyone! I’m most likely going to be turning this into a series (don’t know how long yet) but I’m so very excited because this has been sitting in my drafts for about a year already and I’ve finally decided to just finish it. There will be eventual smut for this soooooooooooo yea tee hee anyways hope you guys like it! Btw the timeline I’m using is not the same as the one in the show.
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⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚
Love was something you deeply craved, something you longed for. As ridiculous as it sounds, you thought about it almost every day.
Having that one partner in crime; someone you can be reckless, wild, and free with. Someone who makes you forget about reality; someone who would do anything for you. Someone who knows the deepest, darkest parts of you.
For a while it became something you obsessed over.
Intimate, passionate, crazy love—blamed for the constant loneliness you felt. Your obsession with fictional romance failed to alleviate it. No amount of reading or watching could fill the cavity in your heart, that horrible feeling of emptiness in your chest.
Then Billy Hargrove became your next-door neighbor.
It all happened so fast.
Your belly erupted with a swarm of butterflies the moment his ocean-blue eyes met yours, as if the world paused just for that brief moment.
His dirty blonde curls and tan skin ignited something deep inside you. Soon enough, the emptiness in your chest was replaced by the fierce pounding of your heart.
Pretty boys came with a lot of attention, though, meaning Billy Hargrove came with a lot of attention.
Every girl threw themselves at him the moment he set foot in Hawkins High. And who could blame them? With a face like his, he was downright gorgeous. If you had the courage, you'd throw yourself at him too.
But for now, simply admiring him from a distance would suffice.
You took pride in that though. Who else can say they had a perfect view of Billy Hargrove almost every night through their window?
You spent countless nights watching him smoke cigarettes outside on the hood of his Camaro, admiring the way the moonlight hit his face as he was in deep thought about God knows what.
It was pretty hard not to look at Billy other than those nights through your window though...
In Mrs. Clarke's biology class, you'd often catch yourself staring at him. He'd sense your gaze and once smirked back at you, letting you know he felt your eyes on him.
And God, he would never forget the look on your face—wide-eyed and embarrassed as hell.
He thought it was the funniest thing in the world and he found it quite entertaining.
He found you quite entertaining.
Billy was so accustomed to girls throwing themselves at him; it was something he had gotten used to since he hit puberty. And although he enjoyed all the flirtatious looks and comments girls threw at him, he eventually grew bored of it.
However, you and Billy shared a common craving. Whether it was for love, excitement, intimacy, or entertainment, both of you yearned for something more.
.
“Shit guys, we totally forgot to hang up banners in the gym for tomorrow's basketball game!” You screamed like a madwoman startling the entire student council.
With just two minutes left until dismissal, exhaustion hung heavy in the air. The entire week had been a relentless blur of preparation for the school's stupid pep rally and its accompanying activities. By this point, everyone, including you, was over it.
As the bell rang, everyone dashed out of the classroom as if their lives depended on it. They gave you apologetic looks, patted your shoulder, and mumbled every excuse imaginable to avoid putting up those banners in the school gym.
“So fuck me huh?!” you yelled after them, throwing both your arms up in frustration before dropping them in defeat.
As head of the student council, you couldn't afford to procrastinate. The principal had emphasized that those banners had to be up and ready for tomorrow's game, or there would be consequences. That prick didn't intimidate you in the slightest, but, you had a reputation to maintain, and everything had to be flawless.
You huffed and grumbled as you entered the gym, your arms hugging a variety of large banners needing to be hung up. Your frustration completely blinded you to the sight of the gym full of shirtless basketball players.
Suddenly, a basketball collided with your shoulder at full speed, knocking the banners out of your arms.
The gym erupted in laughter.
“This isn't the student council club you do know that right kooks?” Tommy H. yelled from the court, laughing, trying so hard to impress his dickhead teammates.
Kooks.
They had given you that nickname after the scene you caused at Tina's Halloween party last year. It's the reason you no longer associate yourself with that crowd.
You remember it like it was yesterday.
You arrived at Tina's party with Tommy and Carol by your side, just one week after your harrowing experience of getting stuck in the Upside Down. It probably wasn't the wisest decision to be out, and you knew it. You had been home, cutting class, and ignoring their calls, and they had noticed a change in you. You were easily irritable and on edge. Carol even made a snide comment about how you'd probably been hanging out with Munson, snorting too much Special K.
According to them, you were a real drag to be around. So, they dragged you out of the house, urging you to let loose and forget about whatever it was you were dealing with. And so you did. You drank until you couldn't feel anymore, indulging in anything and everything that was being passed around.
Carol was never truly your friend; she was someone you grew up with and were kind of forced to know. She never really cared for you, so it was no surprise when you overheard her snickering with a few girls from the cheer squad.
They all eyed you up and down as you drunkenly swayed to the music.
“Wonder what hell she's been living; she's out of fucking control,” Carol remarked, smacking her gum as she laughed with the girls next to her, rolling her eyes at you.
Your ears perked up at her words, and they echoed in your head on a relentless loop, amplified by the effects of alcohol and marijuana.
Hell. Hell. Hell.
Images from that fateful night flooded your mind—the frantic sprint through the woods, the desperate attempt to escape the unknown terror pursuing you. You ran until your lungs burned and your legs gave out, only to find yourself in a place that resembled home but felt like a nightmare. It was as though you had fallen into a pit and landed in a realm you could only describe as hell. Darkness enveloped everything, the air thick with swirling black particles, and a monstrous creature hunted you down as if you were its final prey.
Tears welled up at the memory, and you couldn't hold back any longer. You had been bottling up your emotions, feeling isolated because what you had experienced sounded utterly unbelievable.
You charged at Carol and shoved her into the wall, causing picture frames of Tina's seemingly perfect family to crash to the floor.
Like the breaking picture frames, the smiles masking their true essence shattered that night, much like your own exterior, revealing the turmoil within.
You started to laugh manically, tears spilling out of your eyes.
“Oh, Carol, you haven't seen hell,” you chuckled, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “It's right beneath this town, and it's anything but pretty. It's downright awful.”
Carol was frightened tears threatening to spill from her eyes, she felt powerless in this position.
“Hey! What the hell is your problem, Y/L/N? Get off of her!”Tommy yelled, rushing towards you and Carol, pulling you away from her.
You pushed him back. “Don't you dare put your fucking hands on me!” you yelled, your words laced with venom. He backed away, refocusing his attention on Carol, attempting to comfort her throbbing head.
The images flashed in your head: your screams, the Demogorgon, the overwhelming sense of isolation. You turned to face the party, and all eyes were on you as the music came to a sudden stop.
“How can you all just sit here and party,”you screamed, your voice growing louder, more terrifying with each word. Nobody dared to approach you or even attempt to calm you down. It was clear you were experiencing a psychotic break.
You hadn't spoken to Steve in months, ever since he started distancing himself from you, Tommy, and Carol. But you couldn't forget the moment when he threw you over his shoulder, with Nancy by his side, and dragged you out of that party.
That night, you cried until you fell asleep, finding comfort in the presence of Nancy Wheeler and your old friend Steve Harrington. When you woke up the next day, you found yourself in Nancy's bed, and they bombarded you with all sorts of questions. You ended up sharing the horrifying experiences you had down there, and for the first time in a long while, you didn't feel alone. Now, you were stuck with a new nickname and a family bonded by the traumas of the Upside Down.
You laughed at the memory but the anger you felt in the moment snapped you back to reality.
The basketball rolled to the side, catching your attention. With all eyes on you, including Billy's intrigued gaze, you felt an itch for release. Without a second thought, you picked up the ball and with one swift motion, threw it at full speed. It struck the side of Tommy's head, catching him completely by surprise as he was too preoccupied trying to make his teammates laugh.
“You do realize there's a basketball game tomorrow, right? Maybe you should practice your passes a little more, you fucking prick!” you shot back, mimicking his tone with a hint of venom.
The laughter in the gym was quickly replaced by a chorus of “oooh's,” and Tommy was visibly seething with anger, clutching the side of his head where the basketball had struck him.
“You're so lucky you're a girl, freak!” Tommy yelled, pointing his finger at you in frustration.
You smiled and flipped him the bird.
Your reaction sparked something in Billy's gut, a mix of amusement and something else. He couldn't help but burst into laughter, though you might not have noticed being too preoccupied with picking the banners up.
Before he even realized it, Billy found himself inexplicably drawn towards you, as if some invisible force was guiding his steps.
Like his legs had minds of their own.
“That was quite a throw,” a deep, angelic voice sounded from behind you. Shit, you had totally forgotten he was here.
“Those throws are especially reserved for dickheads,” you retorted without turning around, your face turning as red as a tomato.
Billy's chuckle caught you off guard, something you never thought you'd hear up close. As you started to walk off to finish what you came here for, you heard him clear his throat, stopping you in your tracks.
“Aren't you forgetting something?” he questioned, giving you no choice but to turn around and see what he was referring to.
And god all mighty
There he was, shirtless. His tan skin glistened with sweat, revealing defined abs and muscular arms. Geez, you could've passed out right then and there.
He wore a proud smirk, revealing a perfect set of teeth as he held out the tape you needed for the banners. You almost drooled at the sight of him, feeling your core heat up and your cheeks flush.
“Oh, uh—thanks” you nervously said, quickly grabbing the tape from his hand. Surprisingly, you still maintained eye contact. God, he loved the effect he had on you.
“You need any help with those?” he chuckled once again. That's twice now; one more and you might just jump on him.
“Don’t you have to get ready for tomorrow’s game?” You asked timidly.
Jesus, why did you care?
“They can’t overwork their star player sweetheart.” He winked, once again flashing his pearly whites
You died and went to heaven at this point.
Sweetheart? That wink?
Your mouth hung open and he left you speechless, like a crazed fan girl. You started to wonder how he’d look at you if you were on your knees taking all of him.
How he’d talk to you..
“Look at you taking all of me sweetheart.”
God you really needed to get your shit together.
“Come on sweetheart don’t leave me hanging,” he said as he waved his hand in your face, trying to bring you back to reality.
He really needed to stop calling you that.
“Um, yeah, I guess I could use a little help,” you said, swallowing harshly. Your gaze shifted from the banners in your hands to his lips.
You really hated how flustered you got around him but a small part of you loved these new feelings.
“Great.” he responded with a cheeky grin.
You found yourself not being much help; he took charge and handled the banner hanging almost entirely by himself. He insisted on doing it, claiming it was the gentlemanly thing to do.
Tommy looked over at the two of you, confused. Billy Hargrove being a gentleman, especially to the psycho? Hell must've frozen over, he thought.
With Billy taking on the work, you had no choice but to stand there, looking all pretty, as you ripped pieces of tape with your mouth and passed them to him. You guided him on how to position the banners into place.
You couldn't help but notice the way his back muscles flexed when he reached up to position the banner, sending a flutter through your stomach.
You’d never been this close to him.
It also didn’t help that he brushed his fingers against yours every time he went to grab a piece of tape from you. And with him on the stool, towering above you, looking down at you, there was plenty of room for imagination for you both.
You were convinced he was trying to fucking kill you. Was he aware of the effect he had on you?
Every touch from him sent every single nerve in your body into a frenzy.
And those were just your fingers; you could only imagine what would happen if his fingers touched the spot you longed for him the most.
In the past few weeks, Billy had noticed that he was always running into you one way or another. So, he decided he might as well make it fun.
You were different from the girls he usually pursued, and he liked that. It made things all the more exciting. Billy had learned a few things about you: you were timid but had a backbone, responsible (an assumption he made because you were the student council president), and not too worried about your appearance, which didn't really matter because you were already breathtakingly beautiful.
“LADIES, HUDDLE UP! HARGROVE, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” Coach Williams's voice rang out, snapping both you and Billy out of your thoughts.
Billy climbed off the step stool and leaned in towards your ear, catching you completely by surprise. He whispered, "Glad I can be of help, sweetheart. If you need help with anything else, I'm only one house away." With a smirk, he pulled back and left to return to his team captain duties.
The hot of this breath made your body shiver.
The look on your face was embarrassing, with your cheeks hot and your mouth slightly hanging open. Billy would never forget it; in fact, the mere sight of your mouth hanging open made him twitch in his pants as his imagination ran wild once again.
Your thoughts wouldn't allow you peace of mind as you finished tidying up the banners into place. Lost in thought, you hadn't even noticed that everyone had already left the gym, leaving you alone in the empty space.
The sound of the door gym doors opening startled you, snapping you back to reality.
You smiled at the sight of the tall brunette.
“Ah if it isn’t King Steve” you say teasingly, “or should I say EX King Steve who has been dethroned by the new California hottie.” You tease poking at his face
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Steve replied dryly swatting your fingers away, taking fake offense to your comment.
Steve could care less about his so called “throne” he had new priorities, which consisted of ooking after you and his newfound family of children.
“Very funny y/n,” he said sarcastically.
Steve couldn't help but wonder if you and Billy had been hanging out. He had noticed how fond you had grown of him ever since he stepped into town. Lately, he had observed a change in your demeanor, how excited you were to get home, and how your face lit up at the sound of Billy's name. Steve could practically feel the butterflies radiating off of you.
“Hanging around is pushing it, Steve. We're just neighbors,” you reply, with a slight blush on your face that doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve.
“Yeah, I don't blush when someone mentions Agatha, my next-door neighbor,” he scoffs, shivering at the thought of his creepy stalker neighbor.
You roll your eyes at him, though it's quickly replaced with a smirk. “Well, Billy isn't a creepy stalker,”you say, though you wouldn't mind if he was. “Plus, he's kinda hot,”you finish, nudging his shoulder as you two make your way out of the gym.
“Yeah, gross,” Steve dramatically gags, though he also cringes at the slight twinge of jealousy he keeps feeling in his stomach.
You and Steve never hooked up. However, you two did develop some weird feelings for each other, but it was probably because you were so close to dying together.
You frown at the memory you thought was going to be the last.
Vines from the Upside Down began to wrap around your neck and body. Steve was right next to you, suffering the same fate. He looked at you, his heart breaking at the fear in your eyes. Trying to bring you some comfort, he gathered as much strength as he could and reached his hand out for yours, interlocking them together.
Thankfully, Eddie and Dustin saved you and everyone who thought it would be a bright idea to fight off Vecna. Ever since that day, though, Steve has been attached to your hip, making sure you get home safely after school and always ensuring you aren't alone.
Sometimes he'd find himself gazing at your lips or absentmindedly brushing away strands of hair that danced across your face on a windy day.
Steve didn’t know where you two stood. Neither of you had made a move, and he was too afraid to make one and face rejection.
You weren't sure how you felt about Steve, but you knew how you felt about Billy, and that feeling was becoming increasingly difficult to brush off.
“Coach still benching you for tomorrow's game?” you ask, changing the subject immediately. You regret it the moment you see the disappointment on Steve's face.
Basketball was his first love and ever since Billy got to town he’s slowly been losing the love he once held for the game.
He ran a hand through his messy head of hair and sighed.
“Yeah, thanks to your boy toy over there,” Steve says, glaring at the blonde who was a car away from Steve's. You wrap your arms around him as you two reach his burgundy BMW.
“You're a great player, Steve,” you state matter of factly, squeezing him a little tighter. “I think everything that's been going on—the Upside Down, us fighting interdimensional monsters, and almost dying—has taken a toll on you.” You reassure him and then let go to look into his eyes.
“It's normal to have a little setback; it's understandable. Plus, you've saved the world multiple times!” you said, slapping his chest lightly. “That beats being a starter on the stupid Hawkins High basketball team any day.”You finished, smiling at him.
Steve’s eyes softened at your words and smiled.
Christ, this is exactly why his feelings were a mess for you.
Steve brought you in for a tight hug because words couldn’t express how grateful he was for you.
From the next car down, Billy observed the two of you and couldn't shake the thought: had you and Harrington ever been a thing? The idea unsettled him because Billy Hargrove didn’t want to share you.
.
Steve dropped you off at home, as he usually did. He would usually stay for a bit and keep you company, but tonight he promised Dustin he’d take him to Mike’s for their D&D campaign.
You walked into the house, which was eerily quiet and empty, as it always was. Switching on the kitchen light, you noticed a note attached to the fridge.
Be back in the morning. Love you. -Dad
You sighed as a your traced your finger up down the note.
Your father traveled for work most of the time as a tech service representative for a variety of chemical companies. He'd often be gone for days, sometimes even weeks, so being alone was something you had grown accustomed to.
Your relationship with your father was also very complicated. You would even say it was nonexistent, given that he was always gone, and when he was around, he'd sleep the days away.
You pretended like it didn’t bother you but deep down it was something that made the cavity in your heart unbearable.
You weren't completely alone, though. Steve and you bonded over your shared loneliness, as both of his parents were also always away on business trips, calling only once a week, if he was lucky.
He'd often spend the night at your place, or you'd spend the night at his, rewatching ‘The Breakfast Club’ or ‘Sixteen Candles,’ his personal favorite, although he wouldn't admit that to anyone.
The bond between you two wasn't solely fueled by loneliness; fear played a significant role as well. It was the fear of that night—the night your friends almost died—that kept you together.
You felt goosebumps travel throughout your body at the thought of it. You instantly shook it off and decided to wash your feelings away with a warm, hot shower. You dreaded the night to come because of the insomnia you developed this past year of living in this small town. But thankfully, you had a couple of your favorite romance novels on deck to keep you occupied throughout the night.
You slipped into one of Eddie’s well-worn Metallica tees, its length reaching down to your knees. It was a keepsake from the day you and the gang had spent the night at his trailer, after an exciting evening of sneaking into the Hawkins community pool.
It was one of your favorite memories you’ve made in this shit town.
After slipping on the tee, you put on some black laced panties you pulled from you drawer.
You glanced over to your window, partially covered by your curtains, and wondered what the dirty blonde was up to. Curious, you walked over and took a peek, wondering where he was because he was usually out at this time, either smoking a cigarette or sitting in his car, or doing both at once.
Like clockwork, he slammed his front door, grabbing the red lighter he always kept in his back pocket and reaching it to the cigarette hanging out of his pink lips.
He cupped the cigarette out of habit and lit it, inhaling the silent killer.
He then hopped onto the hood of his car and reclined, still smoking the cigarette as he gazed at the starlit sky, lost in deep thought.
You wanted to join him, eager to learn more about the California boy, even if he didn't show interest in you. Something inside you just needed to know who Billy Hargrove was.
You also wanted to try to settle the intense feelings coursing through your body.
You stared at him for what felt like a lifetime, admiring his chiseled jawline, how his pretty blue eyes looked in the moonlight, and the rhythmic pattern of his inhaling and exhaling cigarette smoke.
Fuck you cigarette.
You envied his cigarettes.
You wanted to be inhaled and exhaled like that, and you didn’t even care if you were disregarded like them when he was done.
Billy felt your gaze through the window, and as he smirked, you couldn't help but notice. Despite being caught, you couldn't suppress a smile of your own.
Billy sat up and looked directly into your window. Your face grew flustered as you two made eye contact, but you held it, unable to look away.
You pushed yourself to do something you found so uncomfortable and you ignored the negative thoughts running through your head.
Billy tossed his cigarette to the ground and he was about to pick up a new one.
That being you.
You quickly threw on some discarded sweats from the floor and made your way to the front door. As you wrapped your hand around the doorknob, you hesitated for a minute. Nervousness gripped you, but you were determined to make things different this year. You wanted to push yourself beyond your comfort zone. No longer content with just fantasizing about romance, you wanted to live it, even if it meant risking a broken heart in the process. After all, at least you'd have a story to tell.
The cool night breeze kissed your face, sending shivers down your spine as you stepped out of your door. Closing it behind you, you were wrapped in darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlights. Your heart raced as you descended off the few steps of your front porch.
As you turned the corner, you were met with Billy Hargrove's infuriating smirk. It would've been irritating if you didn't harbor this crush for him. With determination, you walked in front of his car, mere inches away from where he sat. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.
“Hi,” you spoke up slightly out of breath. Billy knew it was nervousness that caused you to sound that way.
You think back to the conversation you had earlier in the day.
“If you ever need help with anything, I’m only one house away.”
You wanted something. You knew what you wanted, and you knew what him meant by it, but you didn’t want to jump his bones immediately. You wanted to get to know him, and maybe that was foolish of you given his reputation, but you didn’t care. You knew you couldn't judge someone based on rumors.
“Hi, Y/N,” Billy greeted with a chuckle, his eyes roaming over your figure. He noticed your shirt and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“You listen to Metallica?” Billy questioned, his gaze shifting to Eddie's worn-out black tee. "Oh, this?" you said, grabbing onto the thin material of your shirt. “No, it's a friend's. He let me borrow it,” you partially explained, letting out a shaky laugh.
“Hmm, didn't peg Harrington for the metal type either,” Billy remarked, assumingly lighting yet another cigarette.
"You think Steve's my only male friend?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You have more than one?" Billy questioned back, the movement of lighting his cigarette coming to a short pause, his eyes widening momentarily. Billy could take Harrington, but any other male suitors would be a problem for him.“Is that a problem, Hargrove?” you questioned, once again amused by his reaction. Was he jealous?
He laughed and took a drag from his cigarette. He looked so beautiful like this, the view from your window couldn’t compare to the view you had right now. Despite the chill outside, you felt a warmth spreading through you.
“Not that I can’t compete with Harrington and?” He asked waiting for you to provide the name of said friend.
Compete?
“Eddie,” you said filling in the blank for him. “Ah, Munson, the freak,” he chuckled, taking yet another drag from his cigarette.
“You do know you’re talking to right? You remark, raising an eyebrow at him hinting that you fell into the same category as Eddie.
“Never said I had a problem with ‘freaks’,” he said smiling, as he looked down at your lips before meeting your gaze. “If I’m being honest they’re my favorite types of people.” He added licking his lips.
You gulped as his intense gaze met yours. He was undeniably gorgeous. The ache between your legs begged for relief, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he noticed, especially when he then asked,
“Come sit,” he said, making space for you on the hood of his car. You obliged, sitting on the cool surface, crossing your legs, relieving some type of pressure. “You smoke?” he asked, handing you the lit cigarette. You took the cigarette, his warm fingers slightly touching your cold ones.
“Nope, but there's a first time for everything, right?” you smiled, taking a drag of the cigarette. The sensation immediately made you almost cough out a lung and you hadn’t even inhaled it completely. Billy laughed once again and slid his hand onto your back, lightly patting it attempting to ease your coughing fit.
You handed the cigarette back to him and laughed, the coughing fit dying down. “Yeah, first and last time doing that. God, that is nothing like weed,” you remarked.
Billy removed his hand from your back, and you couldn't help but groan slightly at the loss of touch. He looked at you with an amused smile. "I could only imagine how you reacted to hitting a joint," he said with a grin.
“Oh, trust me, it was nothing like that. I almost died just now,”you said as you wiped the tears that formed in your eyes from coughing.
You leaned back on his car like he did on countless nights and looked up at the starlit sky. Billy did the same after putting out his cigarette. "The only good thing about this shit town is how pretty the sky looks at night," you said. He looked up at the sky and thought the same. There were so many stars, each one representing hope.
"And the rain," he added, which surprised you. “But you're from California, it’s all sun over there!” You exclaimed, giggling a bit.
“Yeah, I know,” he smiled at your excitement. “It hardly rains over there, but I loved it when it did,” he said, reminiscing about his life in California.
“I liked sitting in my car and listening to the rain; it brings me some sort of peace of mind. Especially here, it's stronger and louder, drowns out the thoughts,” he added, tapping his head in a playful manner.
You smiled at his explanation.
“It makes me feel like a kid again,” you added, your voice soft with nostalgia. "Running around, no jacket, laughing, feeling the water down your face and drenching your clothes. Sometimes I sit outside and look up at the sky, enjoying the way it feels on my face," you said, still smiling at the sky above.
Billy turned his head to look at you now, and you were oblivious to it for the first time. He felt his heart skip a beat at your explanation and the way you smiled at the sky full of stars. From that moment on, Billy was determined to know more about you.
You two continued talking, giggling, sneaking glances at each other, but it all came to a halt when you both heard a loud slam from the door of his house. A man in his mid-40s descended down the stairs of Billy’s front porch and made his way towards you both. Billy straightened up immediately at the sight of this man.
“It’s late,” the man spat, keeping his eyes on Billy, completely ignoring your presence. “Get inside; you need to take Maxine and yourself to school tomorrow.”
“Hi, sir,”you timidly intervened. “I'm Y/N. I live next door. I'm sorry for keeping Billy out so late. We were just talking about class, and I lost track of time.” You finished
Billy looked at you in shock as if you said something out of turn.
He looked you up and down with a deadpanned look before giving you a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Then, he gave Billy a warning glance before leaving. Odd. You thought.
You noticed the shift in Billy’s demeanor he was noticeably uncomfortable and even seemed scared. Billy took a deep breath after his father left and ran a hand over his face, visibly tense.
“You okay?” You carefully asked not wanting to overstep any boundaries.
“Yeah, I will be,”he exhaled, mustering up a small smile. “Thank you for tonight. I'll see you around, Y/N.” With that, he left. You waited until he made it inside and you returned home yourself.
As you stepped into the house, the loneliness of it consumed you once again. But you disregarded it, shaking it off, because a bigger part of you felt content and happy.
.
Billy grew accustomed to loneliness; sometimes, he even preferred it. But when he saw how present his friends' parents were in their lives, the loneliness spread and often consumed him. His mother was gone, her whereabouts unknown, leaving him abandoned and stuck with his monstrous father. He had the shell of a parental figure, but in reality, his father was a bully, a coward. This left Billy feeling trapped and hopeless, like a prisoner in his own home, with no one to relate to, no one to vent to, nothing.
When Billy made it inside his house he had already prepared himself for the worst. His father was seated on the sofa waiting for him to come in.
“I'm sorry, sir, I lost track of—“ Neil raised his hand to stop him from explaining, and like a trained soldier, Billy shut his mouth immediately. Neil stood up, making his way towards him. Billy flinched as Neil raised his hand, and to Billy’s surprise, he patted his shoulder. Billy furrowed his brows in confusion; he hated his father's touch. “Nice girl,” Neil remarked before walking past him and heading to his room.
What the fuck?
Anger coursed through Billy’s veins, his heart beating furiously in his chest. Why you? What the hell was so special about you that had Neil Hargrove's fatherly approval? Billy scoffed. He didn’t care if he'd get beatings for what he had planned or about your feelings at the moment, but he was going to royally piss his father off. Fuck his approval didn’t want it nor did he care for or it.
Billy disregarded his strong feelings for you and decided to be the dick he knew himself to be.
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rowanswriting · 5 months
Note
Hey Batty, can we get Steve teaching Eddie how to eat reader out? maybe he makes Eddie lay down right next to him so he can see the way Steve runs his tongue against reader!
((also, loving all the content you’ve been uploading lately, you’re my favorite writer!))
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Pass The Eggnog
Steddie x Fem!Reader Smut
wordcount: 2.2K
thank you so much for this request nonny, I had so much fun writing this! feedback is always welcome! 18+ only!
warnings- cunnilingus, mlm, threesome, drunkenness, spit, cum, degradation, mfm, Steve x Eddie. Dom steve. Steve slaps Eddie once. please come to me with anything I may have missed!!
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You weren’t one for eggnog, but how could you pass it up when Eddie was standing next to you, a devilish grin overtaking his handsome face, as he held a Christmas mug with cute gingerbread men towards you. “Cmon sugar, this is good eggnog.” He said, laughing as you wrinkled your nose at him and rolled your eyes. “I know why it’s ’good’ Eddie you’ve spiked it.” You say, leaning back onto Steve as he wraps his toned arms around your middle, pulling you close. “Exactly, what’s a Christmas party without spiked eggnog anyway? So Sorry Stevie, but your parties aren’t quite what they once were.” Steve huffs behind you, his ego taking a hit as he acts nonchalant at the comment. “Whatever Munson, give me another one of those, if I’m going to make it through the night with you I need to be drunk.” Eddie smiles and grabs another glass of his ‘specialty’ as he liked to call it, walking over to Steve and bowing down to him while holding the glass high above his head. “Oh King Steve, please accept this lowly peasants’ offering.” Steve snatched it out of his hands, downing it quickly as Eddie laughed wildly, standing back up to lean back against the kitchen counter.
Most of the people that had bothered to show up to the party had left hours ago, leaving you with Steve and Eddie. Steve had dropped Dustin off at his house before coming back home, the three of you standing in the kitchen drinking more and more as the hours passed. Your mind felt fuzzy as you listened to another argument that Eddie and Steve were engaged in, you didn’t know what it was about, having zoned out at the start of it. You only snapped back to reality when Steve nudged you, looking at you expectantly with his honey brown eyes. “What?” You say, glancing between the both of them, noticing a blush breaking out across Eddie’s cheeks.
“Seems like Eds has a crush on you baby.” Steve whispers against your ear, leaning his chin down until it touches your shoulder, you glance back at Eddie, your brain swimming with thoughts that you couldn’t quite decipher because of the alcohol coursing its way through your body. “Y-you do?” You say timidly, as Eddie nods shyly, twirling a piece of his curls between his pointer finger and thumb before chewing on the end nervously. You stand in the middle of the Harrington’s kitchen confused, and slightly in shock, how had they even gotten on the subject of Eddie liking you? More importantly, how was Steve not blowing a fuse right now at the idea of his best friend liking you? You turn around and look at Steve, moving some of his hair away from his eyes from where it had fallen down from its gelled up perfection. “What do you think about that baby?” You ask, nervously chewing your lip as you feel chills run through your body, you could feel Eddie staring at you from where he stood behind you. Your breath was caught in your throat as a dark look passed over Steve’s features.
You slowly back up as Steve advances towards you and Eddie, he walks you back until you’re pressed up against the kitchen counter. Your bodies smashed up against each other as he leans down close to your face, your noses bumping against each other. You hold your breath In anticipation of what he could possibly say about this whole situation, your question was quickly answered as Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand, bringing it towards you, placing it behind you against the swell of your ass. Your eyes widen as you look up at him. “I think this is all I’ve wanted for a long time, baby. We’ve talked about this before… Eddie and I.” Steve whispers looking over at the older man, who couldn’t stop shuffling around from his nerves, his hand trembling against your body as Steve gripped it, not allowing him to move.
You hold completely still as Steve leans down towards your ear again, smirking as he glances at Eddie, “The two of you have about ten seconds to get in my room, and strip your clothes off or you’ll suffer the consequences. Do you want this princess?” He asks, even in situations where he was full of nothing but pure lust he always made sure you were comfortable with what was going on. You nod, squeezing your legs together as Eddie moves his hand down lower, squeezing your flesh, his rings pressing harshly against you. “Y-yes Sir, I want this, want you and Eddie.” You whimper out.
———————————————————————
You couldn’t fully grasp what was going on, other than hands touching you absolutely everywhere, Eddie’s rings leaving marks on your skin from how hard he was gripping onto you. Your bodies pressed against each other as you made out slowly, the way he kissed was different from Steve, but in the best ways. His lips were soft, the stubble around his top lip was scratching against you, tickling you and causing a delicious friction you couldn’t get enough of. Steve was standing at the foot of his bed, watching you and Eddie helplessly grinding against each other, his own hard on was straining against his sweats, creating a wet patch in the fabric, making it stick to his body uncomfortably. He would think of himself in a minute, for now he was enjoying the show. Sweet little virgin Eddie, pussy drunk already, and all you were doing was kissing him.
“Look at the both of you, pathetic little sluts aren’t you?” Steve all but growls out as he makes his way onto the bed next to you, reaching down to make you stop kissing Eddie. You whine at the loss of his lips against yours, but before you can protest even further Steve’s telling you to open your mouth. You throb at his words, knowing what was coming as you tilt your chin up to him, sticking your tongue out as far as you can. He spits directly onto it before two of his fingers are fucking into the back of your throat. “See that Eds? She’s a good little pet, does anything I ask of her. If you’re my good boy I’ll let you have her however you want.” Steve says, holding back a laugh at Eddie’s lust blown eyes, his lips raw from kissing, curls wild and tangled from where your hands were gripping them. He nods dumbly and watches as you drool and gag around Steve’s long fingers. Steve chuckles as he slaps Eddie’s face with the hand that isn’t in your mouth, gripping it between his fingers and making Eddie meet his gaze. “Wanna learn how to eat her pretty pussy? I know you do, it’s so good baby, let me show you.” He says, grabbing you and pushing you off of Eddie, pinning your body down as he works your skirt down your legs quickly. Eddie sits up quickly, his chest heaving from how hard he was breathing. He watches as you and Steve strip his clothes off, yours having been partially taken off before Steve came into the bedroom. You turn to meet his gaze, his brown eyes now black, you smile at him and bite your lip as Steve spreads your legs, motioning for Eddie to come closer. The cold air against your pussy heightens your senses, you were soaked, it was all over the inside of your thighs, running down onto the bed underneath you, ruining the sheets. You sit up on your elbows and watch as Eddie and Steve lay on their stomach’s in front of you.
“I’ll go first, so you can see exactly how she likes it, and then I’m gonna hold your head against her until you’re absolutely soaked in her cum. Is that what you want, pretty boy?” Steve asks, Eddie nodding pathetically next to him, holding onto one of your legs gently and turning his eyes upon you, “You’re so pretty.” He whispers out, your heart beating harder at his sweet words, you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol making him feel this way towards you, but you didn’t care right now, you just wanted both of them to ruin you. You hold your breath as Steve blows warm air against the inside of your thighs, his lips grazing against you close enough to where you need him but not letting you get what you really want. You tremble as he gently runs his fingers through your slit, running them up to the top of your pussy, spreading the lips apart before he’s moaning, smiling up at you. “There’s that pretty little clit, look how hard it is, is that all because of Eddie baby?” You moan out, clenching around nothing as you nod, your mind already floating through space as you feel him spit right against your clit before he’s wrapping his soft lips around you, sucking like it’s the last thing he would ever do.
Your loud moans echo around the room, followed by Steve pulling back to whisper praises every few seconds, edging you as he licks from your hole up to your clit over and over again. Eddie’s eyes are locked onto Steve’s mouth against you, his cock aching he was sure he could cum just from watching this. He’s rutting against the bed softly, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Steve pulls back, a string of his spit connecting from his lips to your pussy, Eddie leaning over and sucking it off of his bottom lip, moaning as Steve kisses him. Their tongues dance against each other as you watch. “Fuck, Eddie, Steve, oh my god.” You breathe out, feeling close to tears at the loss of Steve’s mouth against you. “I think she needs you now, cmon.” Steve mumbles against Eddie, scooting over and pushing Eddie’s face towards you, smiling as Eddie whines at the harsh grip Steve has on his hair. Eddie’s tongue lolls out of his mouth, as you push your hips down toward him and attempt to feel anything, he wraps his inked arms around your legs, pulling you down and timidly licking a fat stripe up to your clit. You were so worked up at this point it hurt and all you could think about was cumming on Eddie’s face.
———————————————————————-
Eddie lapped against your pussy like a starved man. His long tongue pushing inside of you reaching places Steve hadn’t been able to get to with his own tongue. “Fuck me Eddie please!” You cry out, your legs shaking as he pushes them farther apart, exposing you to him, allowing him access to devour you however he pleased. “Steve m-must be a good teacher.” You whisper out laughing slightly, Steve smiles against your neck from his position next to you, kissing you gently on your soft spot. “Maybe baby, but I think Eddie was just that hungry for you, he’s never even fucked a pussy before and he already has you about to cum.” He said, laughing darkly. Eddie groans from his position as you and Steve talk about him like he’s not even there. You let out a particularly loud moan when Steve attaches his mouth to one of your nipples, your back arching up, “Can’t anymore, gonna cum, gonna cum, fuck I’m cumming.” You gasp out, Eddie pulls away in shock as your orgasm overtakes you, you’re on another planet as you soak his mouth, he sticks his tongue out trying to catch every last drop as he moans obscenely.
Your whole body trembles as you reach for the both of them, silently asking for them to kiss you, Eddie crawls up next to you and takes turns kissing you, smiling as he watches you kiss Steve softly. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever done.” He says, leaning over to kiss Steve when he pulls away from you. Steve smiles right back at him as they pull away from each other. “Who said we’re done, Big Boy?” He says, taunting Eddie with the nickname that he gave to Steve. A smile creeps its way onto your face as you lean back against the headboard, “Go on then boys, put on a show for me.” You say, Steve raises his eyebrows at your boldness shaking his head a little before he’s kissing your cheek gently, whispering how much he loves you into your ear. You gently rub his arm before pushing him towards Eddie, you knew they had wanted each other for a long time, and getting to watch this play out had to be the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Steve goes to grab Eddie, but before he can Eddie is leaning up towards you, kissing you softly before whispering a thank you, allowing Steve to pull him away, their bodies tangling together as they kiss. The roles have suddenly reversed and now it’s you telling them how they’re your good boys, telling them how slutty they are and laughing at the whines that escape their mouths. Their hands exploring places they never thought they would be able to as they float away in a peaceful bliss of each other. Smiling over at you every now and then and blowing you kisses.
Eddie was wrong, you thought. Steve still knew how to throw a hell of a party, he just needed a little spiked eggnog.
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tag list 🏷️
@slutty-thevampireslayer @justsheerfilth1 @girlfuckthatwhore @lithium80sblog
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imtryingbuck · 5 months
Text
Too Late.
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~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader
Summary: Y/n’s Steves girlfriend and she’s been taken by Hydra, will he get to her in time? Will she want to go with him if he does?
Word count: 2,237
Warnings: angst. cheating. nat and steve are terrible people. pregnancy. miscarriage. tiny mention of being sick. swearing. ending is terrible sorry.
A/N: women aren’t failures or less of a woman if they have miscarriages, unfortunately and sadly it’s a natural thing.
Part 2
Masterlist
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Why he kept doing it was beyond him.
The first time it happened both swore that it was a mistake, second time was a mistake too. The third time was to blow off steam from a rough mission. The fourth time, a mistake.
Now they’ve lost count of how many mistakes there’s been.
They know there’s been too many “this is the last time” before they end up in the same position.
Even though he knew what he was doing was wrong he just couldn’t stop.
When he woke that morning he knew he had fucked up. In the whole time that they’d been fucking he never fell asleep, he always headed home afterwards. He never once woke up with her in his arms. This was intimate, something that they didn’t do. It was just sex. They barely kissed, it was rough, he barely touched her other than her hips or his hand on her head as he pushed her face further into the pillow, further away from his mind - from his guilt.
Finding his phone he jumped up out of the bed his heart in his throat at the 22 missed calls and the one text message. He made her have a number that she would send to him for emergencies. For when she wasn’t or felt safe.
He received the number 4 in-between the many missed calls.
“Shit, baby pick up.” He chanted as he picked his clothes up off the floor and shoving them on in a hurry.
“St-Steve?” A woman’s voice came from the bed.
“Get up. Somethings wrong with Y/n”
“Shit”
Natasha took the sheet to cover herself as she rose from the bed, her too putting her clothes back on in a hurry.
Steve ran out of the room finding the team in the kitchen, Natasha soon following. “H-has Y/n called any of you? Somethings wrong”
Receiving a chorus of no’s his heart plummeted in to the depth of his stomach. Not giving any thought to it he took off running to the garage.
Speeding through the busy streets Steve kept trying to ring Y/n, heart rate going through the roof every time he heard her voicemail. Not even parking the car he jumped out and ran up to their apartment, Bucky and Sam quick on his heels.
“No no no no no” the door was open halfway.
“Y/n? Baby, I’m home…” he tried, Bucky and Sam swore they never heard Steve’s voice sound so small.
Taking small steps into the apartment he has shared with his girlfriend for the past three years he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
The grey couch was tipped on its side, cushions once nearly placed on said couch now lay on the floor. Pieces of glass from the photo frames they had hung up, littered the ground. Trinkets and ornaments belonging to Y/n, that took her ages to get a nice collection going was broken on the floor amongst the mess.
But that’s not what caused him to loose his breath, no, it was the small puddle of blood in the middle of their living room, droplets leading to where he stood and behind him.
Bucky made his way around the wall that was Steve and did a sweep of the apartment in signs of his best friends girlfriend. Sam took off in the direction of where Bucky was calling his name. Five minutes later they both emerged from the bedroom, Bucky holding two things in his hands.
“S-Steve…”
“What are they?”
“A phone…and um, a…a pregnancy test.” Bucky stuttered out, his heart pounding violently.
“W-what does the test say?” Nat questioned quietly from behind Steve as she stood with the rest of the Avengers.
“It-its positive”
No one moved as Steve hunched over and puked up.
Just as he was about to stand the phone started ringing. Bucky answered and put it on loud speaker.
“You’ve been a naughty boy Steven so we took your girlfriend. You have less then… ten hours to find her, hopefully she won’t be too mad at you. Hail Hydra” the voice on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly before hanging up.
“What the fuck is going on?” Tony demanded.
“I-I don’t know, we need to find her. I can’t lose her”
“We’ll find her don’t worry” Nat says as she put a comforting hand on his arm, Steve looked at her hand in disgust and yanked his arm away as if she had burned him.
“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.” Steve growled in her ear quietly, even Bucky didn’t hear.
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Her head throbbed, her whole body ached and was sore when she finally came to.
“Ah you’re awake, finally. I’m Conrad and I’ll be here to help you through this very tough time”
“W-where am I?”
“With Hydra darling. Believe it or not but you’re safe, I promise”
“Really? You pricks attacked me and you want me to believe you when you say I’m safe?” She chuckled with a head shake.
“I know, that wasn’t suppose to happen but we didn’t realise that one of Captain Americas girlfriends was so feisty, well we knew one was but not you” he says.
“W-what are you talking about?”
“Oh didn’t you know? Weird. Steve has another girlfriend. You know her, Natasha also known as the black widow.”
Her heart cracked but she didn’t believe him, he was a member of Hydra for Christ sake. “Your lying”
“Hold on. Matthews turn the screen on and let’s show our guest where her hero is.”
The bright light from the tv screen she hadn’t even noticed was there, nearly blinded her. Conrad told Matthews to press play, her soul felt like it had died.
There was her boyfriend on six years thrusting in and out of her best friend.
“T-t-turn it o-off”
“No. Look in the right corner where his jeans are, open your eyes and do it Y/n.”
Complying with his order her eyes slowly peeled open and look where he had told her. There on the floor was the jeans she had brought him when he needed some new ones, every few minutes there was a flash.
“Want to know what that is? It’s you, you was ringing him when we came knocking. You was running and hiding ringing for him whilst he was fucking another woman. Matthews fast forward to the best part”
The footage fast forwarded and she saw Steve sleeping and Natasha climbing out of the bed, going to his jeans and picked up his phone she saw all the missed calls but instead of doing anything she put the phone down on the bedside table and climbed back into the bed.
“She’s not very nice is she? She knew you needed him but she didn’t care, that’s not a good friend is it?” Conrad mocked with a chuckle. “D-do you want a drink of water?”
The change in his tone confused her, one minute he was mocking her then in the next he sounded worried.
“H-here, take slow sips. It’s just water, look I’ll take a sip.” He says “see, it’s okay I promise.”
“W-why are you doing this?”
“I’m helping you. I’m not really the bad guy in this Y/n-“
“Why?”
Just as Conrad was about to respond Matthews ran into the room “they’ve arrived”.
“Ah show time”.
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“Where is she?” Steve demanded clutching his shield tighter.
“She’s here, didn’t think you’d find us so soon Cap.” Conrad says from where he was stood, a grin on his lips.
“Where is she?” He repeated.
“Bring her in, nicely I don’t want any more harm coming to her”
The team watch as the door comes open from the left side of the room and Y/n came through it with two Hydra agents by her side.
“Doll-“
“How long.” It wasn’t a question but more of a demand.
“What are you talking about?” Steve questions.
Instead of answering him she turned to the others “did you guys know?”
“Know what?” Tony asks.
“Did you know that Steven was fucking Natasha?”
Both Steve and Nat flinch as she calls them by their full names. Natasha slowly backed up as the team looked at the pair.
“D-Doll whatever they’ve told you is a lie”
“I saw it with my own two eyes. How long”
“Doll-“
“A year.” 
Steve and Natasha spoke at the same time.
“A…year?”
“It was an accident Y/n/n-“
“Don’t call me that Widow. A year isn’t an accident, did the rest of you know?”
All shook their heads at her question.
“Y/n please, it was a mistake I swear! She means nothing to me.”
Before she could respond Natasha spoke up “I meant nothing to you?”
“No. Please Y/n let’s go home, your pregnant baby”
“Not anymore I’m not. I was two months ago but I lost it, I remember ringing you all night begging you to come home but you never answered a single phone call. Probably with her.” She quickly wiped the fallen tear from her eye as she remembers that night.
The night where her happiness had left her all alone on the bathroom floor, panic raising by the second. Ringing her happiness’s father just for him not to answer, blood flowing down her legs and hands that shook something fierce. She begged and begged for them to come back, promising that she’d do better and be the best mum she could possibly be.
Sadly her happiness had gone away.
Numbly she cleaned up the evidence of her failure, placed the baby onesie she had brought as a present to tell Steve that he was going to be a dad - back in the box it came in, she put the positive pregnancy test in the box along with the sonogram and then neatly placed them in another box, pushing it right to the back of her side of the wardrobe.
Over the next two months whenever she was alone she would take the box out and talk to the sonogram, telling the tiny bean that she loved them. She knew she should of told Steve but she had no idea how to bring the conversation up, she couldn’t bare to see his face light up when she said she was pregnant just to see it fade away when she told him that she had failed as a woman and that it was no longer with them.
To her she was protecting him by keeping it away from him.
“But it doesn’t matter now does it? You guys can fuck off now.”
“No no Y/n please we can figure this out-“
“No. There’s no figuring anything out. You betrayed me, you! I didn’t do anything wrong! You don’t love me no more? Break up with me! You wanted to get your dick wet by some bitch that wasn’t me? Break up with me!” Her voice got louder as she went on stepping further towards him, standing in front of him she felt sick at the devastating look in his eyes.
“I asked Conrad to kill me” she smile sadly at him “you guys need to go now-“
“Y/n baby please I’m sorry, I can be bet-“
“Don’t humiliate me even more please, I’ve wanted this for a while now so please just leave”
Steve opens his mouth but shuts it quickly when the agents of Hydra points their guns at him and his team.
Y/n walks back over to Conrad who leads her through the door they came through. The last thing the Avengers hear is the deafening bang they were all familiar with.
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In the two years that had passed since he lost Y/n, Steve stayed far away from Natasha. 
The team had only recently begun talking to the pair again, they had lost a friend and to them it was Natasha’s and Steve’s fault.
Steve missed Y/n more than anything, sleep didn’t come easy to him not now not when the memories of his betrayal was always there as a constant reminder. Not when all he remembers is the pure devastation look in her eyes or how her hand glazed over her stomach when she spoke about their baby that they lost - a baby that he did not know anything about.
He had no one to blame other than himself for every time he hears a gunshot he’s transported back to that day he lost everything. Lost his world.
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On the other side of the world in a woodland area away from the civilised society sat a lonely small farmhouse, surrounded by a large fence to keep the farm animals inside.
Y/n emerged from the wooden door with a small smile on her face, dressed in her dark blue dungarees that wore a deep green stain on the knees.
She didn’t lie when she said she had asked Conrad to kill her and he had agreed, when they went into the hallway she had fully prepared herself for the bullet to come, to end her life instead the bullet zoomed past her head and lodged itself in the wall.
“I’m not going to kill you Y/n, I-I want to help you leave but you need to stay quiet okay”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’m not much of a bastard, come on we don’t have long”
Now in the two years since she had left she finally felt at peace, she found herself.
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~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~
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hellfire--cult · 6 months
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SoftDom!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
wc: 4k
+18 MDNI, SOME fluff, smut, p in v, fingering, blowjob, rough sex, bondage, breeding kink, dirty talk, non-safe sex, reader being a bratty fiancé
Plot: The pandemic had its ups and downs. One of the good things it brought was the fact that your husband can forever work remotely from home. But you sometimes get a little needy.
A/N: Just filth. Pure filth.
please always reblog, thank you
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HOME OFFICE
The pandemic had its ups and downs.
You for one, didn’t mind staying home, but you did miss your friends and family terribly. You’ve always worked online and remotely at home for a company outside the country, so that wasn’t something that changed for you like it did for many others.
In those many others, it includes your husband.
You thought he would return to the office as soon as it was declared that you could head outside, but no such thing happened. It seems that there’s more productivity from people working at home rather than going physically to the workplace. You don’t work 9-5 like your husband does, so you have time to clean the house a little bit, cook lunch and dinner. 
He would always be so grateful for the food. Sometimes he would be in a meeting and you would come in very quietly and place the plate of food and a glass of water on the corner of the desk and then head out. Twenty minutes later your husband would rush out of the room as soon as the meeting was over to pepper your face in kisses as if to say thank you for the attention. 
But there were times when your husband wasn’t having the best of days. 
Working from home also stresses you out sometimes, because you are overwhelmed with stuff because, since you’re more productive, they give you more things to do. That’s just what they do to your poor husband. But there are times that he overworks himself just because he thinks he needs to.
Like today.
“Baby, you should’ve gotten off work two hours ago…” You cooed at him from the doorway, wearing a silk robe on your body and just that. For the past week your husband has not been paying attention to you, and it’s because he is just being a people pleaser. 
“I’m just trying to finish this sheet sweetheart, promise I’ll get off soon.” That wasn’t the answer you wanted from him at all. 
“Steve…” You were whining now, and his head turned to look at you for a second, and that’s when you saw the instant click in your husband’s eyes.
Your husband was overall sweet, and very dutiful. He was always considered the mom of your group of friends, even though you were right there. Always taking care of others before himself, and always being one step ahead of stuff in order to say ‘already took care of it’.
But there was a side that only you knew about your husband. You got to know it when you two were one year into the relationship, three years ago. You two had just moved in together, and you were cranky for not being able to sleep comfortably in your new bed, taking your time to adjust into it. 
So of course, you were snappy at everything your husband did wrong, even if it was leaving the toilet seat up, or leaving one single used spoon in the sink. That night, you got to meet a side of your boyfriend you never expected from him, yet you were delighted, and your mood instantly got better afterwards.
This side of him is only triggered… when you’re being a brat.
“I am working. Don’t whine.” Steve said in a very stern voice, a voice that only ignited the heat between your legs even more than before. His eyes returned to the computer as he began typing away. 
You licked the inside of your cheek and you strutted towards the desk which was in the middle of the room, putting both of your hands on the edge that was on the other side of him, and you leaned forward, looking down at your husband.
“I whine cause you haven’t been paying attention to me for the past week.” He only gave you one glance, not caring for how much you were showing your cleavage to him, and his eyes went back to the screen in front of him, his fingers never stopping from typing. You could see the reflection of the computer on his glasses, and it just irritated you even more.
“You know there’s always a week that I’m full of work. We’ll do whatever you want tomo–”
“Now!” You stomped your foot with a whiny cry, as if you were a child, but you were tired of being pent up because of this, and he closed his eyes with a sigh, but you could also hear a groan in his throat.
“Don’t be a fucking brat.” He called your name, a threat, and you straightened up after that, and he didn’t say anything else. He resumed his typing and you were angry. Seething. You had two options right here: One of them was to walk out of the room, take care of yourself in the room, and then go cook dinner…
Or…
You dropped on your knees and immediately crawled under the desk, finding his legs that were covered in grey sweatpants as your hands started from his ankles, and slowly gliding them up, biting your bottom lip as you reached his thighs. You heard him take a deep intake of breath, but the typing never stopped, which only made you even more frustrated.
You hummed as you reached his bulge, and you smirked as you found some hardness in the pants. You did rile him up when you walked into the room. You pressed your hand onto it and you felt him move, even if slightly, on his chair. You started rubbing onto it, slowly, and you could feel his cock getting harder by each stroke, a tent starting to form under the cloth.
Your hands then went to the hem of his pants and you bit your lip, not knowing if he will comply and help you take his sweatpants off, but as you tugged, you saw him raise his hips up and in a quick move you pulled both of the pants and boxers down, letting them pool around his ankles.
His dick sprung up, hitting on his stomach with a smack. You bit your lip as you scooted closer, your nails scratching onto his thighs as they moved up and up. He was still sitting straight as he typed away on his computer, but you didn’t care any longer. You just needed him in your mouth.
You leaned forward in order to spit right at the pink tip and then your hand ran all over it to gather your saliva, and use it as lubricant as you started pumping him, slowly, up and down, causing his dick to twitch in your hand as it became fully hard in your grip. A smile appeared on your lips as you heard the typing stop for a second and then resumed as if he had never stopped.
You then guided your mouth close to the tip, running your tongue all over the slit, and then you did the one thing that makes him crazy, which is licking on his frenulum, right under the head. You flicked on it going from side to side in a fast motion. You heard a growl above you, and you smirked as you finally took him into your mouth.
You used your hand in order to help yourself as you started bobbing your head up and down on him, slowly, at your own pace in order to taste him as you liked. The hint of saltiness started and you knew that he was starting to leak precum as you kept moving, your other hand grabbing onto his thigh for leverage.
You pulled him out of your mouth so you could press soft kisses along the shaft, to then lick from the bottom and up, giving a kiss to the head and then gliding your tongue onto the slit, giving a soft press there. You took him back into your mouth as you started becoming wetter at each bob of your head.
And then you heard it. Or well, you didn’t hear it anymore. The typing had stopped, and then a slam happened, making you pull away from him, hand still wrapped around his dick as you sat there, waiting for whatever was happening. He sat back on his chair and looked down at you underneath the desk.
You shivered as you looked up at your husband who had a frown in his eyebrows and his jaw was completely clenched, going slightly to the side that displayed his anger. His hand immediately went to the back of your head, grasping tightly onto the hair there, making you wince as he pulled your face towards his dick again, smashing it against your cheek.
“You want to be a slut? Fine. Put my cock back into your fucking mouth.” 
You whined as you complied, opening your mouth to take him in again, but you couldn’t even  wrap your hand around him to help you as you felt him guide your head down on him. He was being rough, and it almost hit the back of your throat, but he pulled on your hair to bring you back up again, only to make you plunge you back down again.
Your hands gripped onto his thighs as his other hand went to untie the tie that was on his neck. Just like everyone that works remotely does, he dresses nicely on his upper body, and then comfortably on his bottoms for the online meetings where his camera has to be on. He slid the black tie off and threw it on the desk as he kept bobbing your head up and down on him.
“You couldn’t fucking wait for a few more minutes.” You hummed against his cock as he put both of his hands now on each side of your head. “Through your nose.”
And you knew what this meant, so you started taking in air through your nose and that’s when he shoved your head down as he pushed his hips up at the same time, making him hit the back of your throat. Your eyes become teary as your face flushed, a gurgle of saliva vibrating in your throat as he pulled you back up and put his hips down, only to repeat the previous action again.
You were gagging on his cock as he throat fucked you intensely, feeling the walls of it already bruising from how rough he was being with you as he gripped onto your head, his fingers clenching on your hair. Your nails were digging into his thighs as you kept yourself on your knees.
“Look at those fucking tears.” You heard him chuckle in between his groans as his hips kept thrusting up into your mouth. “You wanted my cock, so you are going to take it how I like it.”
Said tears were running down your face like a waterfall from the intensity of it all, feeling your throat becoming sore and the gags were already making your stomach turn a little bit. You gave him a tap on his thigh and he took notice of that, stopping his movements all together, and pulling your head up.
You took a sharp intake of breath with a gasp. Saliva mixed with precum was sliding down from the corner of your lips as you huffed for air. His face came close to yours, and he didn’t even look fazed by what he had done to you. 
“Color?” And behind the roughness, your husband was still there. The sweet husband that always took care of you first beyond everything else. You gulped in order to get saliva in your throat once more, letting you talk clearly.
“G-Green…” 
He stood up abruptly from the chair, making it fall back behind him and he raised you up on your two feet by the hair. You yelped in pain but before you could continue with a whine, his lips clashed against yours. You moaned against the kiss and you wanted to wrap your arms around him, but you knew better than that, so you kept them dangling on your sides. 
His tongue invaded your mouth without permission, making you whine in need and then you felt his hand rip open your silk robe, shoving it away from your body with his big hands. The chill air hitting your breasts, perking the nipples up instantly, hardening the bud. One of his hands immediately cupped one of your tits, and pinched onto the nipple, harshly.
You yelped onto his tongue and he chuckled as he moved his hand downwards while the other gripped onto your ass, pulling you closer. Your body was on fire as his fingers instantly found your clit, slowly moving them in circled motions and then went down in between your folds. He pulled away from you, finally letting you moan out into the room.
“So wet for me. Did sucking my dick turn you on this much?” You could only nod at him and then your eyes widened when he landed a slap against your clit, causing you to whimper. “Answer me.”
“Y-Yes–” You could only gasp as you felt two fingers plunging inside of you in one motion, and your hands shot up in order to hold onto his shoulders as you moaned out a cry at the sudden stretch.
“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” You nodded at his words as he pumped his fingers in and out of you and you moved your hips against them, trying to follow his rhythm. He was guiding you with the hand that was on your ass, pushing you further into him at each thrust.
“S-Steve, baby– Please–” You begged. You needed him inside of you, right this second. His fingers are not doing justice to what he could do to you. He growled, biting back a come back, but he was already frustrated himself, and he wanted to cum. He desperately needed to cum.
He pulled his fingers out of you, making you sigh from disappointment only to be manhandled into turning around, and then he pushed your upper back onto the table, bending you completely with your ass in the air. He grabbed onto the tie he left on the desk before.
“Arms behind.” You were breathing a little bit heavy as you complied to his wishes, putting your arms behind your back. He tied your forearms together, and you knew that your shoulders were going to be sore tomorrow, but it was going to be so worth it. “What do you need?”
“Hngh–” You wiggled your ass towards him, but the only thing that earned you was a loud smack onto one of your cheeks, making you whine.
“You acted like a fucking brat to get it. Have the decency to tell me what it is and I will give it to you.”
“I– I need your cock Stevie, please– Please, I need it…” And he didn’t need any more indulgence. He grabbed onto both your plump cheeks that were wiggling at him and he spread them open. He smirked at your puckered hole, and it was a shame he didn’t prep you for that tonight. Maybe tomorrow.
He lined his cock up towards your wet pussy, sliding against your clit a few times, making you moan in need, and then with no warning, he pushed inside of you, and your eyes widened when he didn’t take his time to let you adjust. He just kept going, knocking the air out of your mouth as the side of your head rested against the desk.
“So fucking tight…” He groaned out. “Even after all these years you’re still so tight for me baby…”
“Steve–” Your words were cut short when in one sharp thrust he pushed forward, completely seething himself inside of you, and your mouth fell into a wide ‘o’ shape as your eyebrows frowned at the friction of it all. It was too much, but it felt so good. It always feels so good.
He got hold of your tied forearms, and just like a cowboy would ride his horse and your arms were his reins. He straightened up, his other free hand dangling on his side, looking down at you, with his glasses still on. The reflection of your ass was the one that was over the crystals, and he smirked as he pulled his hips back, and then pushed forward again, and pulled on your arms to bring you to him.
You let out a loud moan and cry of his name, feeling him hit onto your spongy part that resided inside of you, but then went deeper than that. Your husband has always been on the bigger side, and feeling him splitting you like this only added fuel to the fire that was inside of you.
He started a brutal pace, skin slapping constantly as his balls hit against your clit, his hips against your ass that jiggled at each movement. He was trying to hold in the groans in his throat as he slapped one of your ass cheeks with his free hand while the other kept pulling you to him.
“Baby, did you come here for another reason?” You heard him ask, but your mind was still gone as he kept pistoning his hips against you, earning another loud smack on your ass that will probably leave a bruise, making you cry and snapping you back into reality. “Is it because it’s the perfect time? It is, isn't it?”
“Y-Yes! God–” You had come with two missions today, and one of them was being fulfilled, the other will soon happen.
“You came for me to fill you up? Have you all full of my cum so it takes?” He moaned as he felt your walls clench around him at his words. You nodded against the desk as tears rolled down and hit the wood under your face. You were going to cum without him touching you at all, just from his dick hitting your g-spot repeatedly.
“Yes, yes, please, Steve– Make me pregnant, fill me up–” He groaned behind you as his thrusts became harder, the slapping of skin even louder than before and you could hear grunts coming out of his throat as you whimpered his name many times, your walls clenching each second that passed.
“I can’t fucking wait to see your belly all round with my baby, fuck– sweetheart I can’t fucking wait…” That was enough for you to cum around him, letting out a loud yell of his name, legs trembling as his pace stopped for a second because you were clenching too hard all around him. “Fuck– Sweetheart–”
He winced at the friction of your cunt around him, and when he felt you start to relax, just slightly, he took a deep breath in and started his pace again, not letting you come down from your orgasm, wanting to drive you straight to another one thanks to overstimulation. 
“St–Steve, baby, stop–” But it wasn’t a true plea. You knew it wasn’t something you actually wanted, and he knew it too, so that’s why he didn’t stop at all. He smacked your ass once and he felt himself twitch inside of you, making him groan loudly.
“I’m gonna fill you up– You’re going to be so full.” He groaned when his glasses started to fog thanks to his jagged breaths, and he took them off to throw them onto the desk, beads of sweat coming down his forehead. You were choking on your moans as you tried to move your strained arms again, when you felt your walls start clenching, and you felt like you were dying from how hard your orgasm was going to be.
“S-Steve– Steve!” You couldn’t warn him fast enough that you were cumming onto his cock again, right after the last one you had because he didn’t let you rest from it. This time, your g-spot was so overstimulated that it made your juices gush out on him, drenching your legs and his. 
“F-Fuck, shit!” He was too overwhelmed with the view that he pushed you onto his cock as he thrusted deep inside of you, and he let out a loud moan as the ropes of his white spent filled your walls. You whimpered through a moan as you felt the warmth invade your insides.
You two were left panting in the room, trying to get your breathing back to normal. He was the first to regain his composure again as he untied the tie around your arms, and thanks to feeling the relief from being able to move them again, you snapped back into reality. You took a sharp intake of breath as you blinked and pressed your hands against the desk in order to pull yourself up. 
Your legs were shaking and you didn’t have time to recover yourself that he was turning you around to sit you on the desk. 
“What–?” You managed to breathe out for a second before you felt his fingers gather your juices and his cum that was already dripping out of your cunt, and plunging them inside like a plug. You let out a whimper at the sensation and he leaned forward to press a kiss on one of your stained cheeks.
“I know baby… I know…” He didn’t move his fingers, he just kept them there. “I’ll prepare dinner tonight, you just lay down on the couch, okay?” 
Your lovely husband was back, the rough demeanor already gone and you smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. Steve and you had been trying for the past few months, and today was another month you were going to try and you were ovulating. 
“God, I hope it takes…” You sighed out dreamily and he nodded at that, wanting nothing more for you two to finally become parents. He pressed a soft kiss against your forehead and then sent a smile your way.
“I hope so too. Also, way to rile me up.” You giggled at him as he wiped your cheeks lovingly with his free hand. 
“Maybe we just needed to do it roughly…” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he tsked at you with his tongue, lightly slapping the side of your thigh, making you chuckle. 
“There’s no way that the way we have sex influences it.”
To Steve’s surprise, it does, because a month later your pregnancy test came out positive.
God bless working from home. 
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A/N: I never wrote a just steve fic before, so here it is, welcome to my dirty thoughts
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trashmouth-richie · 8 months
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ᴴᴱᴬᵀᴱᴰ
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MODERN! EDDIE x FEM! READER
MODERN! KING! STEVE x FEM READER
CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED
summary: taking the back roads to Indianapolis was Eddie’s idea. the day trip there was Steve’s. But when Wayne’s borrowed truck grinds to a halt on the hottest day in September, the tension and the boys’ tempers aren’t the only thing to rise.
warnings: 18+ smut, alcohol use, drug use, drug mention, kinda sadboy! Eddie, king Steve being king Steve, modern times so things such as google and Snapchat are mentioned. no use of y/n, reader has a nickname, pet name usage.
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The blazing swell of the late September sun had been pelting down on you all day. Stuffed right between your best friend Eddie and his best friend Steve, the humid Midwest air trickled through the open windows in a hazy wave of oven door heat. 
  Between Steve’s hair-brained idea of driving to Indianapolis for tickets to the annual Irvington Halloween Festival and Eddie’s even more ridiculous idea of taking Wayne’s single cab truck, without A/C to make the 4 hour round trip drive— it was no surprise when the clunking metal of the brown ‘86 Chevy spluttered to a grinding stop alongside the highway. 
  100 miles from Hawkins, and nothing but pent up anger boiling at the surface to keep you all company.
  “Oh this is just great Munson,” Steve groaned, swinging open his door and slamming it shut with a metallic bang. A ring of sweat set deep in the Hawkins athletic shirt he was wearing, a heavy hand pushing his hair from his face, “dude, let’s take the truck!” he mocks the long haired metal head, “fuckin’ told you this would happen!” 
  The boys weren’t exactly getting along for the entirety of this trip. Eddie and you had made plans to decorate your apartment tonight for Halloween, a month too early just like you did every year, a night full of themed snacks and cheesy 80s horror movies, the perfect opportunity to finally make his move. 
  But when Steve showed up at the light blue trailer looking for his wingman to help him score at Hargrove’s party— he was less than impressed to find you peeking around Eddie’s outstretched arm holding open the door, a shit-eating grin on your face. Even more pissed when Eddie told him that you would be tagging along. A roll of his eyes and a scoff on his lips as he pounded down the concrete steps. 
  Steve wasn’t your favorite and you definitely weren’t his. He didn’t get the appeal.. Always too loud, too annoying, acting like one of the boys when clearly you were just too insecure to have any friends that were girls. 
  As he stomped through the dead grass he told himself it had nothing to do with the fact that you turned him down freshman year, never mind that it was six years ago and Steve had plenty of girls added to his belt, his snap score and drawer full of stolen panties proved it. Never mind that his bruised ego from that night at a bonfire in the woods pushed him into his King Steve era. He flicked a cigarette into the dirt, muttering under his breath. 
  “Fuck off, Harrington.” Eddie gripes as he shoves the gear shift into neutral, he lowers down to his left and pulls the hood jack towards him. “It’ll be an easy fix.” He says to you, his breath fanning your sweaty cheek as he shoves open the door and jumps out, boots crunching along the gravel as he pushes the hood open. 
  To be fair, Wayne’s truck had about a 50/50 chance of making the trek to Indianapolis, but Eddie had wanted to take it for a few reasons, and not one of them was for a trip down memory lane like he had told Steve. 
  The first reason he wanted to drive the truck opposed to Steve’s BMW, was lol was because it was a stick shift. An opportunity to let him float the gears and have his veins pop out that he knew was a panty wetter for most girls, he had only hoped you fit into that category. 
  The second reason was simple: there was no air conditioning, meaning the small tank top you were wearing would undoubtedly become very hot, and maybe… just maybe you would think of taking it off to cool down. 
  And finally the third reason mimicked the first… you would be sitting bitch in the middle, and with each shift between gears, his arm would be sliding around the soft plains of your luscious thighs. The same thighs that were bare besides a high waisted pair of cut off shorts that had his mind flipping the perv meter to dangerous levels when you hopped off your bike this morning.
  Greeting him with the same smile that cooked his brain to mush for years. 
  Only today— you were starting to flirt back with him, pushing your ass out and bending at the waist just to untie your shoes. Even though in the history of forever, you had never once taken off your worn converse in the Munson trailer. You also were wearing a tank top, accentuating your curves, and Eddie was ready to chew a hole in the makeshift drywall of his trailer when you bounced up the steps to greet him. 
  Usually you hid your body with a baggy shirt and a pair of jeans, your fuck-off attitude is what earned you the right to have Eddie as a friend in the first place. 
  Tonight he was going to push the limits, share a joint with you when the yellow harvest sun dipped low into the indigo trees, kiss your ear with chapped lips while he held you when the movie had a jump scare… he had a plan. And Steve ‘cockblock’ Harrington was being the worst wingman of all time. 
  Sliding out of Eddie’s door, the Navajo rug blanket snags against the cracked leather of the worn seat. The back of your knees were sticky and shiny with sweat, same as your cleavage, not a single stitch of wind to be found along the gravel road— unless you counted Steve’s annoyed huffs.
  Steve bitched and moaned the entire time Eddie was bent over the truck. Investigating what had gone wrong, “aren’t you supposed to be some sorta mechanic?” He grumbled, pushing his hair from his forehead, slotting his hands back into place around the Levi’s on his athletic hips, “swear to God if you make me miss this party, and what Lily has been teasing me with on snap,” his eyes roll into the back of his head at the thought of it, almost letting out a desperate whine.. “I’ll shoot you dead Munson.” 
  “Take it easy Stevie,” Eddie grunted, his jaw tensed and an irritated tone on his lips. His brows turned inward in concentration as he twisted a wrench with strong grease covered hands from behind the hood, “just need’t..  fuck.” Dark smoke started billowing out around him.
  His foul mouth spewed a string of words that barely made any sense, ending his fit with a slam of the hood and his wrench thrown into the ditch. 
  You walk pointed nails across his sweat covered bare back easing his bruised ego with a sickly sweet voice, “it’s okay,” you preen, pushing your chest into his side  when he wiggles from your tickling fingers, his dark eyes swirling into calm and the huff from his breath lost in his throat, “I’ll just call AAA.” 
  AAA did not service in your area, and according to google— the nearest gas station was twenty miles away, a podunk hole in the wall that sold newspapers for a quarter and had 1 star reviews. 
  “Fuck,” Eddie shouted, kicking the tires and hiding the burn of ache traveling up his leg, “the hell are we gonna do now?” 
  “Guess we’re fucking stranded! Great idea Munson, gonna die by the inbred hands of the family from The Hills Have Eyes, but god we just had to take this piece of shit!.” Steve spit as he flopped back into the bed of the truck. 
  Eddie pointed a greased finger into Steve’s chest, “you,” he said prodding with emphasize, “were the one who didn’t want to buy them online, oh God Eddie let’s just get out of Hawkins for the day, make Lily sweat a little bit, make her think I have a bitch in Indy..” 
  “Fuck off,” Steve said shoving Eddie’s hand away, sitting up, casting a stank eye in your direction, voice laced in venom, “at least my dick is getting w—”
  A pack of cards hits Steve right in the chest, hard and knocking the insult from his lungs. 
  It was your idea.
  The slick pack of cards in the glove box with paisley red design on the front was sure to lend some relief and make time pass between now and when Robin would be on the way, driving Steve’s BMW with white knuckles and the radio off no doubt. You had texted her when the boys were arguing, explaining the situation and promising her a small white baggy from Eddie’s stash when you got back. 
  “great idea,” Steve accuses, “s’ gonna take at least 2 hours to get here,” his hands fly in the air in defeat as he yells, “she’s failed her drivers test four fuckin’ times because she drives like my grandma, and that old bag has been dead for years!” 
  “Cool it, you didn’t have any other ideas besides whining Steve,” Eddie defends, fingers wrapped around the neck of a foggy glass bottle filled with amber liquor, he hands it to you in a slick move of his wrist bending and presenting both a blunt and the bottle like a flower blooming in his open palm, “might as well relax a little s Sswhile we wait, make it worth our while.” 
  The liquor went down with a burn, hotter than the pinked shoulders of Eddie’s sunburnt skin. And the small band of splotchy salmon across Steve’s nose. 
  Eddie wrestled a dusty moth bitten blanket from behind the seat, and spread it on the bed of the truck. Before you could push your ass up onto the tailgate, he had wrapped his hands tight along your hips and hoisted you up. A grip so tight he didn’t want to let go, your body feeling just right in his palms, and you were feeling it too. 
  As the liquor bottle got lighter and lighter, the tension eased, Steve was actually laughing at Eddie’s jokes and wasn’t rolling his eyes as much when he had to give you a card or when Eddie praised you for winning again. 
  When Steve threw his cards on the blanket and twisted his arms in a pout at losing another round of Go Fish, it was his idea to play another game. 
  “It’s real easy,” he explained around a puff of smoke as he shuffled the cards back into the pack with his large tanned hands, a single bead of sweat sloping down from his temple and curling around his chin. “You hold up five fingers, and if you’ve never done what one of us says, you keep a finger up, but if you have… you put a finger down and take a sh—- hey dickhead!” 
  Eddie’s lips turn sinister around the glass bottle as rogue drops of Crown dribble from his chin. “Ooops,” he says coyly, eyes bigger than Betty Boop’s and already feeling the combined high and drunken stupor take over his body, “were you needing this?” 
  Dragging a hand down his face, Steve sighs, “yeah it’s kinda the whole point of the game, fucker,” 
  “Hey…” Eddie whines, “be nice Stephanie.” 
  With another ten minutes of arguing about Eddie being a jackass and Steve being crabby in hot weather, you all agree to play the game, the loser has to finish the bottle and strip off an item of clothing. 
  “Okay so let’s start this easy,” Steve explained, “never have I ever been arrested.”
  Eddie puts a finger down and scowls, “good one Harrington,” he adjusts his legs and leans back against the frame of the truck, “just because you got away doesn’t mean your ass wasn’t just as guilty as mine.” 
  “Shoulda ran faster,” 
  The boys make annoyed faces at each other and it’s Eddie’s turn, “never have I ever… nope I’ve done that… never have I.. shit.. okay pass! I gotta think.” 
  “Your turn,” he says, passing you the bottle of almost empty liquor.
  “Okay, Uhh..” you hold the bottle with both hands and gently peel back the label with your fingernail, rubbing the sticky residue between your fingers, you rack your brain for something that would get them both, “never have I ever… peed standing up.” 
  The boys roll their eyes, and each put a finger down, “cheap shot,” Steve whines, and glowers when you stick your tongue out at him. 
  “Oh I got one!” Eddie says rubbing his hands together, splaying a wicked grin on his face, “never have I ever, socked Billy Hargrove in the face.”
  You push Eddie’s shoulder and slap his chest playfully, as he laughs like a hyena, “he deserved it!” 
  Steve chokes on his inhale of the passed blunt, “that was you?!” 
  “Fuck yeah it was!” Eddie says proudly, “that’s why she’s banned from the pool.” 
  Laughing at the now funny memory of Billy slapping your ass as you walked by him in your swimsuit. 
  The way Eddie’s fist felt in your hands as you shoved it down, the rage in his eyes as he was ready to beat the bricks off of Billy. 
  The sick twist of his mustache when it formed a grin knowing that Eddie was on his last strike with Hopper and couldn’t defend you. 
  And the satisfying crack of his molars splintering in his gum line when you knocked your fist into his jaw.
  The pain and swollen fingers were worth it. 
  “And I’d do it again,” you say lowering a finger and taking a swig from the bottle, the burn of the liquor barely there now. 
  Steve laughs, a new sense of almost admiration, as he looks at you with his hair in his face, grabbing the joint from Eddie’s fingers and holding it firm between his teeth, “my turn,” he says clearing his throat, “uh..never have I ever… kissed Eddie.” 
  You and Eddie look at eachother and giggle awkwardly around the cloud of dense smoke, but your fingers never budge. 
  “Seriously?” Steve says incredulously, looking from you to Eddie and back to Eddie and then you again, “can’t lie in this game, dude.” 
  Eddie had come close to kissing you on a few occasions. Once in high school at Steve’s party after winning the beer pong tournament, he looked at you the way someone would a lover, wetting his lips and looking at your mouth, but in the end he gave you a bone crushing hug and twirled you around the room. 
  Another time during the 4th of July fireworks last year when you had both smoked two bowls from the pretty pipe he gifted you earlier that year on your birthday.
  The air was warm, just like today, and you leaned your back into his front as you laid lazily on the roof of his van. He was singing a song you were too high to comprehend and when you turned your head into his shoulder and looked up at him. 
  His fingers wrapped around a lock of your hair and you hummed in approval. Snuggling further into him. And the next thing you knew it was nearly dawn and you had fallen asleep. 
  It just never seemed like the right time. 
  “So who’s turn is it?” Eddie said clearing his throat. 
  “Oh n-n-n-n-n-n-no!” Steve said leaning further into the circle, clearly interested to know what’s going on, “we aren’t just gonna skate past this.”
  “Drop it, Steve,” Eddie said all too fast, his boots stretching out to kick at his thigh. 
  The bottle in your hands is suddenly heavy and you set it down with a clunk on the bed of the truck. And you pick hastily at your nails, avoiding two sets of brown eyes. 
  “Fuck it,” Steve says, tongue dancing around his mouth trying to stop a smirk, “I dare you to kiss her.” 
  You're certain your heart stops beating. 
  “Jesus Christ,” Eddie sighs. Running his hand on the back of his neck, his open cut off flannel shirt showing off his tattooed chest. 
  “Y-you don’t have to Eddie, it’s okay…” you say trying to brush the tension off, not noticing the way his hands are fiddling with the ends of his shirt and how his eyes haven’t left you, “but I dare you to.” 
  It could have been the combined high. It could have been the fact that you hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eddie since you parked your bike against his trailer this morning. 
  He was always good looking, in that goofy best friend kind of way. And although your friendship was never normal, Eddie’s hands always searing through your skin like grill marks on a hotdog, it never crossed the boundary into something more. And you’d be lying if you weren’t curious about how his lips would taste. 
  That was all the convincing Eddie needed before he pushed himself up in a fluid motion, balancing on his knees, and leaning back with a second guess, but it’s you who leans up on your knees too, meeting him halfway.  
  His dark curls swing around your face as he gets impossibly closer. “You sure?” he asks, working a finger under the tip of your chin. 
  And your surprised when your nod is followed by soft lips, slipping against yours. 
  He tasted like the liquor you’ve been drinking and matches. Musky, and woodsy. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip and catches into the corner of his mouth, the brine of sweat on your tongue has you whining into his mouth and he swallows your noises with glee. 
  He shudders when you pull him closer, fingers hooked into the fabric of his shirt. His eager hands holding your face, lips smacking against yours, and for the first time today, it’s not the heat that has your panties wet. 
  Kissing Eddie is like finding money in your jeans after they go through the dryer. It’s easy, and slow, and so fucking good. 
  Seconds, minutes, days? go by before Steve clears his throat and mutters an ahem! 
  Eddie finished the kiss by nudging is nose down the apple of your cheeks and kissing behind your ear. 
  “Fuck…” is all Steve can muster and you bite your lip and sit back down, lips still buzzing with Eddie’s spit still on them. 
  Eddie is smiling and looking at you, eyes drunk on lust. 
  “I— uh, yeah, it’s my turn I guess, ” straightening your back and crossing your legs in a pretzel, you know damn well you’d get at least one finger down from Steve. “Never have I ever… kissed Nancy Wheeler.”
  Steve rolls his eyes and puts a finger down, and when a long finger covered in grease despite the many wipes against denim jeans  also disappears into a fist… a sloppy grin lines Eddie’s mouth as Steve looks like he might throw up. 
  “Are you fuckin’ serious man?” 
  Eddie explains to a butthurt Steve, “let me explain, fuck— it was like a hundred years ago, after junior year, she kissed me!” 
  It was true. 
  Nancy went to Eddie to buy some “forget-‘ems” (Eddie’s coined word for ecstasy) after Jonathan left her for the pretty long haired new boy from California. She was scared and didn’t want to be alone while she took the white pill. Drug use being foreign to her entirely. 
  Eddie? She had asked kindly, unsure about herself for the first time. Take it with me? 
  His long curls bounced as he nodded his head, taking one of the pills from her dainty hands and placing it between his teeth. Tipping his head back with a quick jerk and a rough swallow, hoping it looked cool, he looked into her blue eyes and gave her a grin. 
  It was strange, having the preppy Nancy Wheeler in his trailer with her proper fitting cardigan and light wash skinny jeans. 
  He could tell she was uncomfortable, the normal glow of her skin was lost behind shallow cheeks and dark rimmed eyes, pressed tight with setting powder to try and hide it. 
  maybe she should have had a smaller dose, being that her small frame had never dealt with drugs before. And right when Eddie’s high took over, Nancy Wheeler had started to feel it too.
  She ran around the trailer giggling and feeling the rough edges of the peeling wallpaper. She did flips on Eddie’s bed and spilled cereal all over the kitchen, laughing with dark wide pupil filled eyes. Completely rolling. 
  The high lasted longer than Eddie had thought it would, and she started to cry when thinking about her mom, crying harder when she asked Eddie about his. Forgetting she was gone. 
  She took it a step further by kissing Eddie square on the mouth, wet cheeks and harsh lips pressed to his before he could pull away. And immediately after, Nancy threw up all over his lap. 
  Ending the high and the four hour sudden friendship they had gained. 
  Eddie had told you the story one night when he got too drunk, making you swear to secrecy the next morning that you’d never tell a soul, and you hadn’t. Keeping the pinky promise with your friend all the way to your grave— if he hadn’t just spilled it all to Steve. 
  “See,” you say to try to smooth things over, voice calm and cool through your own high, “no harm no foul, Stevieee,” you chirped, hiding a small giggle behind bit lips. 
  “Really?” Steve spit, flustered and a bit bold trying to mask his hurt with venom. Tongue pressing deep into his cheek and his dark eyes locked on your own, hands tapping onto his bent knees, “then maybe we should even the score, huh?”
  Eddie blows a ring of smoke into the air, following its lazy descent into the dense humid sky. “You wanna kiss Chrissy?” He looks at you with a quizzical expression, laughing at your stunned face, not understanding what Steve is getting at, “be my fucking guest, dude.” 
  “No,” Steve says firmly, not breaking eye contact with you, dark knives of fury peel back each layer of skin, “her.” 
  Eddie says your name in disbelief, and you’re stunned to your core, realizing the air was suddenly much stickier and hotter than before. 
  He sits up straight and leans over the discarded card game, pointing at Steve, eyes narrowed in on him, “you don’t even like her.” 
  “Sure I do,” Steve lies, sniffing loudly, his wicked eyes glance towards Eddie and he licks his lips when he turns his head back to you, eyeing you up and down, as he leans back on his palms, “don’t I, Taffy?” 
  Eddie’s nickname he had given you when you were kids for love of the cavity inducing candy, felt wrong falling from Steve’s mouth, especially in the grim sentiment it was said in. 
  Of course he was referring to the way he had approached you at that party at the lake all those years ago. 
  You could still smell his Acqua Di Gio cologne, the way the sun highlighted his hair that summer, the freckles on the bridge of his nose, the warm beer on his breath. 
  You make a face in disgust towards him, “I’m not kissing you, Harrington.” Crossing your arms in finality as if your words held enough power to command an entire kingdom. 
  Eddie shoves Steve’s shoulder, “what the fuck man,” mixed pleasure of pain and concern painting his face, “don’t be weird.”
  Steve knew how much Eddie liked you, having spent many nights on the roof of his practically abandoned home listening to Eddie through FaceTime over analyzing how to make his move. 
  “‘m not,” he says with a shrug, long fingers tapping against the metal of the truck bed behind him, legs stretched out so the tops of his air forces skim your bent knees, eyeing what he wanted, you. 
  “just trying to get even,” Steve said nonchalantly. 
  “She’s not gonna kiss you,” Eddie said, shaking his head and throwing his hands around, hurt lacing his voice, “give it up.” 
  Steve wiggled the toe of his sneaker against your knee, shooting you a wink, “not until she does.”
  It’s not as if the question hadn’t crossed your mind. It had more times than you’d like to admit. What would it be like to kiss Steve Harrington? 
  “Dude! She doesn’t wanna do it. Fucking leave her alone.” Eddie’s voice was loud and on the cusp of breaking as he pleaded with his friend.
  What would have happened if you fell for his charm instead of turning him down? He was definitely sweet back then, taking your hand in his and guiding you along the rough terrain of the woods. 
  “Let her speak for herself!” 
  Eddie’s eyes fall to yours in desperation, his heart aching for you to tell Steve off, “c’mon, tell him, Taffy.” 
  Pressing your eyes shut tight you can feel Eddie’s hand on your knee, rubbing soft circles in an attempt to remind you that he’s there. 
  “One.”
  “What?”
“What!”
  “Just one kiss, then you need to shut up, got it?” 
  “Taff, you don’t have to do this, we can— we can just get home and I’ll pay him or something.” He’s desperate, willing to do whatever it took to not have this happen. 
  “It’s okay, Eddie, what’s one stupid kiss gonna hurt?” 
  You don’t hear the way he groans and throws himself back against the side of the truck, pinching the corner of his eyes between his fingers trying to ignore Steve’s low chuckle and smirk planted on his face. 
  “C’mon then,” Steve presses, man spreading his legs and patting his lap, “get over here.” 
  You roll your eyes and push yourself up again, “cocky aren’t ya?” 
  “all confidence babe,” he says back, licking his lips, and you roll your eyes again before kneeling in front of him. 
  Eddie groans and kicks at Steve’s leg again. 
  “Sorry dude, just bro code,” he said to Eddie, “and you,” he says addressing you with a nod, “ready?” 
  “Yeah, whatever.” 
  He doesn’t move like Eddie, he’s grabby and rough, taking what he wants and not waiting for cues. He bullies his way into your mouth with his tongue, colliding yours with his and massaging it wildly. It wasn’t bad, just completely different than how you were just kissed by Eddie. When his teeth bite the flesh of your lip you yelp in surprise.
  You turn your head and Steve’s lips trail down your neck, hungry hands grab at your waist and pull you into his lap. Your eyes are closed but his are open, looking at his friend and moving his hand in a wave to beckon him over. 
  A second set of hands is on your shoulders and you feel Eddie’s lips against your neck. 
  “This okay baby?” 
  His breath is hot and stuttering as you reach up and fist your fingers in his hair, your answer muffled by Steve’s mouth. 
  You moan their names, and it drives Eddie wild. 
  Eddie’s hands lower the strap of your tank top scraping your skin with the blunt of his nails. He groans when he sees the absence of a bra strap, diving into your warm skin with a lapping tongue, thrashing slow against your skin, working a strawberry shaped bruise into your skin.
  Steve’s hands are already working to pop the button on your jeans, and you whine when you feel his hard cock beneath your leg. 
  “So fuckin’ pretty,” Eddie breathes as you crane your neck to meet his lips, desperate for your lips to connect with his sgain. 
  His hands fumble on your tank top straps and he groans when his fingers skim over the swell of your tits, you twist his hair in your fingers when his rough hands pinch at your nipples.
  Steve takes his shirt off and tosses it carelessly, his skin is warm on your bare chest as he licks at your exposed neck and earns another moan from you, causing you to whine into Eddie’s mouth and move your hips against his cock. 
  You’re all a tangle of bare chests and sweat coated skin. The boys are barely giving you any time to breathe between open mouth kisses and lazy tongues before the other one commands your attention. 
  “oh, fuck,” Steve whimpers when he works your shorts down, his large fingers find their way into the wet folds of your pussy, “no panties?” 
  Eddie pulls his mouth from yours to let out a desperate groan as your hands unzip his jeans, “shit, all day and no bra or panties,” his hands caress your cheeks and his thumb slips into your mouth open, which you close around him and moan, “you’re a bad girl, huh?” 
  “With the tightest little pussy, fuck,” Steve groans as he pushes a finger into your slick walls. 
  “Mm’mm” you answer them both at once, grabbing needy at Eddie’s cock through his boxer briefs as it flips into your hand, heavy and leaking a pearl of cum from the slit. 
  Noises of all kinds flood the bed of the truck. 
  Wet sloshing from you gushing over Steve’s fingers, him coaxing an orgasm from you as quick as he could, determined to hear your pretty mouth hum. 
Eddie almost in tears as your mouth devours his length  and the head of his cock slides into your throat. 
  The velvet skin of Eddie’s heavy cock slides in and out of your mouth at a slow speed, a small patch of hair rubs on your nose as you take him deeper.
  He’s muttering incoherently and Steve is egging you on. His lips wrapped around your nipples and teeth nipping harshly. 
  “Jesus Jesus sweetheart, Taff— I’m gonna, don’t want to shit shit shit,” you open your mouth and he slides out on accident as you cum all over Steve’s fingers. Sloppy and wet as he rubs at your clit like a DJ. 
  “Thas’it,” he encourages, “so fucking wet, pretty little pussy, yeah, you like this? The two of us giving you what you want huh?” 
  “Yes, Jesus Christ yes!” you’re a blabbing mess, as your high peaks and Eddie spins you away from Steve.
  Steve’s jeans are soaked from you and he’s pitching a tent big enough to host a family reunion. 
  “My turn baby,” Eddie says kissing you sloppy on your lips, “been wantin’ to taste this sweet pussy for years.”
  He helps you lay down on the blanket, making a makeshift pillow with the discarded clothes from the three of you. 
  You’re covered in sweat and more than likely sunburnt in places no one ever should be, but you could care less. Being worshiped by Steve and Eddie had you feeling like the sexiest woman alive, and nothing could compare to the separate high that alone was giving you. 
  Eddie nudges his nose in the crook where your thighs meet, tongue lapping up the pleasure leftover from Steve. “What’d’ya think Stevie boy? Wanna bet I can make her cry?” 
  Steve’s busying himself with unthreading his legs from his jeans, his cock in his hand as he strokes it up and down at the sight of you spread out and naked for them. 
  “You’re on, Munson.”
  Eddie’s tongue was tantalizing. Demon-like against your puffy clit and going further into your pussy than any tongue has before, including Robin’s. 
  His nose pushes up against your clit as he goes deeper, swirling his wicked tongue and slurping your folds into his mouth. 
  You’re buzzing all over. Vibrating from the intense pleasure. Moaning and yanking Eddie’s hair between your fingers as he moves and licks and darts his tongue. 
  Pretty whimpers elicit your body and are swallowed by Steve’s lips, as he hungrily works his tongue into your mouth. The swirling and twirling is all too much.  Their tongues work like hands on a clock and your second orgasm arrives quick fast and in a hurry. The tears spill from your eyes as your writhe and moan beneath them, clawing every inch of their skin. 
  Eddie cleans you up with his tongue holding your hips in place as you shake and try to wiggle away from him. Too sensitive as you lay practically lifeless on the bed of the truck. 
  “Told you,” Eddie says as he sits up, with a sheen of your arousal all over his face. Smiling wide. “I’m just that good.” 
  Steve sits up and tucks his cock back into his boxers, pushing his hair back from his sweat slicked face, “yeah yeah, whatever…” he says, looking out towards the blue sky and the wavering, heat wave horizon, a stupid grin on his lips, “better get dressed sweet girl.” 
  “Thought we were just getting started,” you whine as Eddie kisses his way up your body, laying on his back next to you, his finger threaded with yours. 
  Steve chuckles and points a long finger to the road, “it’ll have to be another time, princess, our ride is almost here.” 
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I have a part two partly written .. lemme know what you would think of that?
CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED
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stevie is so soft for his dove. so gentle and mature for her. she just makes him feel like he has something to care for and love. he finds when his dove pampers and loves on him it just makes him so much more fulfilled in life, and he finds himself emotionally maturing a lot faster than he was before because of his dove.
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romanestuffsposts · 4 months
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Hello!
I never really send in requests, but I was wondering if you could do something where the reader accidentally gets hurt or get overwhelmed, and they slip into a smaller space? And just need a lot of comfort from their daddies? (With a little bit more comfort from bucky?) They just get babied? It's okay if you're busy too! Have a good day!
Hi there love! 💜
Thank you for asking me such a cute request! I'm proud of you, this is your first request and it's wonderful!
I hope you like what I wrote for you sweetie ❤️
Enjoy <33
*****
Warnings : mention of drowning,
Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader
Summary : you have an accident but your Daddies are here to help you
*****
Today was a beautiful day. The sun wasn’t too hard and the breeze was just perfect to spend the afternoon outside.
But sadly, even if it was a beautiful day your Daddies still had to work in their office. They made sur to spend the entire morning with you like they promised yesterday but you knew after lunch they would leave to work.
You weren’t so sad because they spent two whole days with you and this morning so you were still pretty happy about it. Plus it’s Pepper who’s watching you this afternoon and she’s always so kind with you.
She drank tea with you and your dolls and watched you dressing them. She gave advise when you asked her, she was happy to help and you were happy that she was having a good time.
Now she was reading outside under a tree while you were running around in the garden. She read for you for a while but you grew tired of staying on the same position and needed to move so you got up.
You ran near the pool without noticing and after a few seconds, Pepper don’t hear your giggles and your footsteps anymore.
She quickly got up when she heard splashing sounds and start yelling when she sees you in the water, struggling to stay above the water.
Your Daddies, even if they were working kept the door and the windows open just incase. They heard the yelling and quickly got up, they ran outside and the first thing they see is you, struggling in the water.
Steve ran toward the pool following by Bucky and he jumps in the water without caring about his expensive clothes. He grabs you in his arms and make sure to quickly get out of the water.
‘’I’ve got you princess’’ he whispers ‘’you’re in Papa’s arms, I’m here’’ he kisses your temple.
Bucky is quick by your side and kisses the back of your head. Your Daddies carried you inside the house and turn on the little fire they have in the living room.
They know you need to stay in their arms but they need to change your clothes first. You’re freezing cold even with the weather outside and they can’t let you like that.
Pepper stay downstairs to prepare you a warm bottle and to make sure there’s nothing wrong with the fire while you’re upstairs.
‘’shhh, it’s okay baby. We’ve got you, you’re safe in the house’’
You let out a cry and when your Papa tries to sit you on the bed you cry louder and hold on to him for dear life.
‘´baby-
‘’no’’ you cry ‘’pease, don wanna leave Papa arms’’ you sob.
Bucky caresses your back up and down and leans closer to your ear ‘’I know you don’t wanna leave papa’s arms right now but we need to change you in new clothes. You’re so cold baby, we can’t let you like that. We’ll change you in your favorite pyjama and then you’ll be back in our arms’’
You sob and shake your head ‘’pease’’
‘’What if Daddy change you while you’re in my arms ? Does that sound good to you ?’’ Your Papa proposes.
You sniff a few times and then nod your head.
Bucky start by pulling your shirt off of you while Steve moves his arms and hold you in différents ways during the process so Bucky has easier access to change you. Once your top is on, he goes behind Steve who doesn’t move.
He removes your shoes and your wet socket and comes back in front of Steve to remove your pants. It was harder to remove than your shirt but after some minutes you’re in your comfortable and warm pyjama, still in Papa’s arms.
Bucky kisses your red little nose before heading downstairs.
Bucky takes a hold of your cold little toes while Steve carries you downstairs to try and warmth them up a bit.
He knows that if your toes, your fingers, your ears or your nose are cold, you won’t be able to warmth up.
You rest your cheek on your Papa’s shoulder and look into your Daddy’s eyes. He always keeps his eyes on you.
Pepper had prepared blankets on the floor near the fire so everything is ready for when you come back. She placed a bottle near the blankets with a little note that said that she was leaving to leave you together, she informed your Daddies that she was going to talk to fury and Tony about the work who wouldn’t be done because of the accident, she said to nod worrying, she was handling the situation with them.
Your Papa gently brings the bottle to your lips, his fingers are caressing your hair. Your Daddy reaches under the cover and grabs back your feet to rest them on his laps. He wraps his huge arms around your tiny feet and switch between gentle squeezes and strokes to warmth them up.
Your hands are under the blanket and you start to finally relax.
‘’You’re in our arms, beautiful. What happened today was an accident, you got scared and that’s totally normal but you’re here now, with us. You’ll always be safe with us, always’’
~
I wanted to make it longer and make an after with the traumatic event but I hadn’t posted in a long time and I didn’t wanted to make you wait any longer.
I was thinking about writing about the little one being scared to go in water, wether it’s the shower, bath or the pool (maybe even the rain ?) and she’s scared when her Daddies have to leave her to work (you know because she had the accident when they were working and they said that she was safe when they were with her but if they leave for work they’re not with her so she’s scared)
So yeah, I want to make a part 2 but I’ll do it if you want to! 💋
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rookthorne · 1 year
Text
⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
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They had prepared you for long missions and what would come with them — it was why they found Alpine for you, a little bit of comfort for a time that would inevitably happen. But what they had not prepared you for was the shock of an unexpected, but much desired, arrival back home.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ღ Stucky x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ღ 1.9k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ღ Tooth rotting fluff, anxiety attack, pining
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ღ Just some much needed soft fluff from our two favourite super soldiers.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ღ @stuckybingo 𝗢𝟱 — Alpine — Masterlist
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𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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Long missions and long nights were commonplace in your life, ever since you managed to sneak your way into the two huge hearts that belonged to your pair of brooding super soldiers. It had been a few years now that the three of you had been together; it was also normal for your heart to ache as soon as their gear-clad figures and combat boots stepped through the door of your home and out into the world to face who-knows-what. 
As time went on it had become easier to mask your fear and worry for the two of them, however, this mission even made them nervous. That did not bode well for their farewell and there were enough tears on your behalf to fill the Potomac River.
“We’ll be back before you know it, darlin’,” Steve had said as he held you against his chest while Bucky held your hand, not-so-patiently awaiting his turn.
“Yeah,” Bucky said quietly while pulling Steve away from your embrace, Steve’s whine silenced by a quick kiss. “Alpine’ll keep you company, sweetheart.” Bucky lifted you off your feet in a crushing embrace while he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “Te iubesc,” he whispered.
The two of you reluctantly parted from one another at Steve’s insistence that ‘the quicker we go, the quicker we come back’. It was a shame that wasn’t the case. 
It had been three weeks.
You hadn’t heard from the pair of them at all thanks to the requirement of absolute radio silence during this mission - another factor fraying at your already sparking nerves. Three weeks certainly hadn’t been the longest time they had been away, no, it was the fact that there was no communication for the entirety of those three weeks. Fury had made it explicitly clear that if this mission became compromised, the consequences would be dire.
Natasha and Sam had been checking in with you periodically, but they had their own lives and missions to lead.
It was not a far stretch to say you felt isolated. Completely, and utterly, alone.
The bed the three of you slept in felt cold in their absence; too big for its own good, the stillness enough to bring you to tears every single damn time you glanced down the hall towards your shared room. 
Unable to bear a single glance into your safe haven, you had closed the door and only ventured in when absolutely necessary; the two pillars holding up all of what you held dear had disappeared and with their vanishing, they had taken the sturdy foundation with them.
It certainly didn’t feel normal in any respect that you were this emotional with their departure, sure it was normal to be anxious, even scared, but something was wrong. Something had been whispering in your ears that something had happened. 
You just did not know what.
The makeshift bed on the couch in the living room suddenly felt too close, the walls kept creeping closer and closer with every breath you took. 
“Snap out of it,” you whispered, the breathing technique that Bucky had taught you barely kept you above the swell of panic. You needed them home. “They’ll be back soon.”
Your feet met the plush carpet as you moved to stand up. Alpine was sitting up and staring at you from her perch on the arm of the couch, her eyes bright even in the darkness that filled the room and your mind. “Wanna snack?” 
Her chipper meow and the sound of her soft and fluffy paws hitting the floor beside your feet made you smile - you may not have Steve and Bucky right now, but you had the next best thing. 
The cold tile of the kitchen had the grounding effect you desperately needed, and you felt like you could take a breath against the tight bands around your chest. You decided the next port of call was a glass of water. 
The thought made you smile at the memory of Steve sitting down with you one day when the clouds hovering in your mind became too thick to see through.
Steve’s chest was warm on your back, the solid wall of muscle through his sweater a massive comfort as you sat between his parted legs on the floor of the living room. Bucky had left to pick up groceries and run errands so the two of you were alone. 
“Maybe you should try a cold glass of water when you’re like this, darlin’. It can’t hurt.” Steve whispered in your ear as his bearded chin rested on your shoulder. You nodded and he maneuvered his way to the kitchen, returning with said glass of cold water. He settled back into place and you took a hold of the glass and sipped. 
“Atta girl,” Steve whispered and you smiled, the more you drank, the more the cloud dissipated. “Told you.”
“Don’t be a smart ass, Rogers.” 
Steve only laughed at your tone and held you tighter.
God, you missed them so much it hurt.
The quiet hum of the fridge filled the room as the door swung open. It lit the kitchen up in a soft glow while you searched for Alpine’s treat and once you found it, you looked down to find she was no longer at your feet. “Alpine, baby, come on,” you called. She had been right behind you when you walked in here - she must have run back into the living room after hearing or seeing something. 
You grabbed a glass from the shelf, turning your back on the open fridge for only a brief second when you felt the hair on the back of your neck begin to stand up. There was no one there, you assured yourself, the sudden feeling a possible spike of anxiety, a dredge of panic leftover from your time wallowing in the living room. 
“Alpine, c’mon, where’d you go?” You said loud enough for your voice to carry into the living room. The slosh of the water in your glass, the hum of the fridge, and the roar of blood in your ears from barely abated panic muted any other sound, it had begun to worry you even more when you couldn’t hear her chirps or incessant meows. What was she doing?
The fridge door closed with a quiet thud and you ventured silently towards the hallway leading to the lounge, glass in hand. Although you would never admit it to him, Steve was definitely right with his trick - the cloud that had settled over your mind had slowly started to dissipate, much to your relief. 
“Sweetheart?”
The sound of smashing glass and your frightened shriek happened in such quick succession that the shock of hearing Bucky’s voice hadn’t sunk in. 
“Hey, hey, hey, easy!” Steve called as he rushed forward but he stopped short with the sound of glass crushing under his boot. “Hey, darlin’.”  
Steve smiled. No, you must be dreaming.
“We thought you’d be in bed, sweetheart, what’re you doin’ out here?” Bucky piped up from behind Steve, his voice heavily laced with concern. As he spoke he moved forward, Alpine was cradled in his arms. 
“Wh-What are you guys doing here?” You gushed, disbelief and shock still kept you rooted to the spot. “What happened?”
Steve chuckled and side stepped the mess on the floor to pull you into the kitchen and you followed, still dazed at suddenly finding the hulking figures of your boyfriends in a dark hallway. 
They were home.
“I don’t understand, what-” You were cut off by a quick kiss from Steve, his hands still holding your wrists. The sudden movement made you squeak from shock but you recovered and smiled when he pulled away. 
“You all right, darlin’?” Steve asked while Bucky lowered Alpine to the ground, the sound of her chirping away and demanding her promised snack the only thing you could hear apart from the pounding of your heart in your ears. 
“Y-Yeah,” you breathed, swallowed hard around the lump in your throat - unsure if it was because it felt like your heart had lodged itself there, or you were on the verge of tears. “What are you doing home, I-I don’t under-”
“Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours, doll,” Bucky whispered. He grabbed your wrists from Steve’s grip and inspected your shaking hands closely for any cuts from the glass and upon finding no evidence of injury, a quiet sigh left him. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
The rough calluses of Bucky’s right hand and the cold metal of his left somehow brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. As if you needed another reason, you suddenly remembered that there was a mess of broken glass in the hallway. You opened your mouth to speak but only a choked sob came out. 
“Buck, take her,” Steve whispered and suddenly you were enveloped in Bucky’s arms. “I’ll clean this up.” You felt Bucky nod and Steve brushed past the two of you to grab a broom. 
“Breathe with me, sweetheart, c’mon.” With each deep breath you took, Bucky kissed your temple. After a moment or two, your shoulders had stopped shaking and you could only sniffle. Bucky pulled away slightly and smiled at you. “There’s my girl.”
“Alpine! No!” Steve yelled from the hallway and the two of you laughed quietly. 
Bucky began to pull you towards the closed door of your bedroom, his touch soft but firm. “C’mere,” Bucky whispered, opening the door and guiding you through it. He went straight to the wardrobe and pulled down one of his Henleys. “Let’s get you comfy.”
Time blurred while Bucky helped you change. Your sniffles and hiccups gradually slowed until they stopped, and you were suddenly under the warm covers of your bed with Bucky right next to you. Just like you had dreamt of, just as you had wished for, for days on end. 
“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 
You blinked and moved your head from the crook of Bucky’s neck to find him smiling softly down at you. Footsteps echoed down the hall and you turned your head towards the door where Steve stood, Alpine in his arms and a content smile on his face. He clucked his tongue and walked forward, placing Alpine on the foot of the bed. “Make room,” he said, pulling his suit off with a sigh of relief. 
“There’s room, Stevie,” you whispered. You lifted a hand from Bucky’s chest and offered it to Steve who laughed.
“I was talking to Buck, the big jerk.”
Bucky gasped dramatically and flipped him off. The laugh that escaped you at their banter brightened their smiles to be dazzling. 
The bed shifted under Steve’s weight and he flopped at your back before scooting forwards, pulling you against his chest with his strong arms, and Bucky followed, shuffling closer so you were wedged tightly between them. Alpine, not one to miss out on attention, nor affection, made her way to your hip and laid down, purring loudly and contentedly. 
Warmth encompassed you with Steve at your back and Bucky at your front, both their arms holding you tightly - protectively while you lay in silence. It wasn’t a tense silence, just your two super soldiers holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
“We missed you,” Steve whispered into your hair, squeezing you.
Bucky nodded gently. “We did, doll, we know it’s hard.” His hand moved to your cheek and his thumb brushed your cheekbone. “But we will always come home to you–we will always come home to our girl.”
Their promise held you together, mending the cracks with gold and making you strong once again; for home is where the heart is.
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⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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alien-magnolia · 1 year
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Eddie Munson's Little Housewife: Part 2: Cottage Life
Fic description: You and Eddie take a little getaway to a cozy place in the woods, where you can be his sweet little housewife. Daddy dom!Eddie + subby fem!reader
Warnings: D/s dynamics, service! Kink, collaring, breeding kink, daddy kink, praise/degradation kink, size kink, casual dominance, drug use
18+ Minors DNI. Don't like, don't read. 180 follower celebration!! Happy holidays :) enjoy, pls reblog ✨🖤
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You couldn’t stop thinking about your night with Eds, where you got to be his sweet and cute little housewife. The dress, the outfit, everything, just felt right!! It made you just weak in the knees thinking about how he rocked you on his thick cock for a few hours, ruining your pretty little dress.
You wanted to do it again. You told him, and he was over the moon. “Who am I to say no to my pretty little princess? Of course, honey. We can do it the whole day too, if ya want.” You told him you’d love nothing more!! The two of you agreed on what the scene was to be like, and that it would be nice to do it for the whole day. Turns out Eddie’s Uncle Wayne had another, more secluded, trailer back in the woods a few miles upstate. Eds’ said it would be perfect, that nobody could find you there! (And that nobody could hear you as well)
He opened the door, and told you to stay inside while he brought in all the groceries. “I can bring the groceries in too, Eds. You sure that I can’t help you??,” you ask. “No, no, princess. I can’t have my sweet little housewife straining, can I? Let your big strong daddy do it,” he chides at you, while he goes to bring in the groceries and clothes the two of you packed for the weekend. You squirmed a bit. You loved it when he talked down to you like this, it made you feel all nice and warm and subby!! 
After he has brought in all the things, he sat down on the couch, manspread of course. You go to sit down next to him, and all of a sudden he manhandles you into his lap. “How about we start our little scene, sweetie? It won’t be sexual just yet, we have the whole day to do that. What do you say, hmm?,” he asks, while trailing a few kisses on your cheek and down to your neck. “Ok, Eds. Need to get changed first,” you murmur.
After he has brought in all the things, he sat down on the couch, manspread of course. You go to sit down next to him, and all of a sudden he manhandles you into his lap. “How about we start our little scene, sweetie? It won’t be sexual just yet, we have the whole day to do that. What do you say, hmm?,” he asks, while trailing a few kisses on your cheek and down to your neck. “Ok, Eds. Need to get changed first,” you murmur.
One thing about Eddie is that you loved how easy it was to fall into a subby trance with him around. All he had to do was talk down to you, or make his voice a little deeper, or use his title! And here you were, already starting to drop in so easily. 
“Stand up, sweetie.” You do as said. He goes to pull out your outfit for the day: a pink dress with polka dots, some pure white kitten heels, and to top it all off, some white Pearl earrings and a golden cross necklace, topped with your little pink heart collar. He also gave you your makeup pouch. He picked it out for you of course, and you didn’t mind at all. “Go to the bedroom and get all dolled up for me, hun. I’ll be waiting right here on the couch.” You nod and start to walk to the back of the trailer. He grabs your arm. “Forgetting something, are we, princess?,” he asks, his deep brown eyes looking into yours expectantly. “Yes, daddy,” you murmur.  He looks down at you with satisfaction, and gives your ass a little smack before he sends you on your way. 
———————————————————————-
It takes you a while to get all dolled up but you enjoyed every minute of it. You feel so pretty and you know your Eds will love it. You come out of the room, your little heels click-clacking across the hardwood floors. He looks up at you with a predatory smile. You’re a little lamb in a cute shirt dress, and he’s that big bad wolf waiting to ruin you. 
“My sweet little housewife. All prettied up, just f’ me. Come here doll, twirl around for me,” he says, as he takes your hand and twirls you around a bit so he can see you from all angles. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, and gives you a sweet kiss on your lips.
“Are you going to be a good girl and listen to everything daddy says?,” he chides. You nod, mind all hazy, eyes all doe-like. “Good,” he continues. “Now here’s the deal, sweets. I have a basket of laundry waiting for you. You’re going to do laundry, make that bed all nice and neat, and make me dinner. I’m getting a little hungry. Oh and, you’ll clean that little bathroom too — I got you some cleaning supplies. I’m going to check if it’s done properly, and if it isn’t, then you will get punished.”
“Okay, daddy. Wanna be good for you,” you tell him, hazy and shy with subspace. He pats your head and gives you a forehead kiss. Sometimes just his dominance itself made you feel all subby and even little — so eager to please Daddy, because he’s your world. And he was!! 
You set off to do your chores as he turned on some horror movie on the tiny tv in the main room of the trailer. You scurried away from there because you did NOT like horror movies. Sometimes you’d watch them with him and you’d hide in his chest whenever a scary part came on. You knew he could be a bit of a sadist, so he liked it when you got scared for him. 
You take the basket, it’s all full of his clean clothes, but there’s a lot to fold. You stand in the bedroom and begin folding — making sure it’s nice and neat, just how your Eds liked it. You falter a bit when you run across some of his boxers, but you get back on track when you think of what’s to come. You made yourself a little list too, just to keep track! You checked off laundry, and then grabbed some sheets from a drawer to change the bed.
Next — was cooking dinner. All the laundry work took you about an hour, and you decided to doll yourself up for him again, brushing your hair all nice and neat into a cute little ponytail! You spritz on some sickly sweet perfume and reapplied your makeup too.  You make your way down the hall again, and out to the living room. You try not to look at the tv because it is just still too scary!! You see him sitting, engrossed at the movie, but you do notice that his shirt is off. Suddenly he turns to look at you. His gaze is neutral. 
“Sweetheart. Why don’t you bring me that bag of weed and my ‘lunch box’ over there, hmm?,” he calmly orders you. You do as said, slowly walking over to him. “Good. A glass of water too, sweetie.” You nod and quickly scurry over to the kitchen, pouring him some water with ice. You bring it back as carefully as you could. “What a good girl, listening to daddy,” he coos at you, brushing some of your hair back. “You’ll do anything just f’me, huh, baby? I’ll be waiting here for my dinner. You have half an hour, hun.”
With that you scurry off again to the kitchen, to make him a nice sandwich. You set the sandwich onto the plate, and make your way to the living room. The movie is over, and you feel the smell of weed in the room. He smoked, of course. Sometimes he’d include you, but not tonight. You were there simply for his pleasure. To use, to serve. 
You set the plate in front of him. He smiles, that same wolffish, predatory smile that makes you melt under him. “Thank you, princess. Gonna eat this now. You just kneel right next to me and be good.” 
“Yes, daddy,” you murmur, as you drop down to the pillowy carpet. You fold your legs behind you, and rest your chin on his thigh, holding his leg with your arms, looking up at him. He looks down at you, so patronizing, so caring, so hungry. You were so so wet already, and you see his hard on peeking through. He pats your head some more, and you sit by his feet for another half hour before he finishes eating, drinking, and smoking too. He brings the blunt closer to you. “Does my little girl want a few hits?,” he asks. You nod, silently. “And she has such good manners too, so well trained. Suck it in, sweetie,” he says, as he brings the blunt to your lips. 
Weed always helped you get into subspace some more!! “Feeling a little fuzzy, sweetie,?” his voice brings you back from your thoughts. Every little touch was more intense now, and so was your hunger for him. You wanted to suck his cock so so badly!! Luckily for you, he wanted it too. 
You watch with wide eyes as he starts to undo his belt and jeans. You see that he’s rock hard now, and he grabs your wrist to pull you more in front of him, where you are now kneeling right in front of his weeping cock. You start to pull off his boxers, and his cock springs out in front of you, the tip looking very angry and red. You look up at him for permission. “Go ‘head, honey. Take daddy’s cock down that sweet little throat of yours,” he says, as his big calloused hand brushes your throat lightly. And you do. It’s so good, that you just start drooling, and some of it spills onto the floor. Your mouth just felt so full and warm with his cock in there!! You could see he was struggling to not buck into your mouth. “Just like that, sweetheart. Keep drooling over my cock, so good f’me,” you hear him rasp out above you, his voice starting to get a little uneven by how nicely you’ve been sucking him off.
You feel his hand reach down and tug on your little pink collar, with a heart in the center. You loved it when he pulled or even led you by it, it was just so so demeaning but also honoring, you knew you were his, and you loved every minute of it. He pulled you harshly closer to him by the metal ring of your collar. His other hand is on your head, slowly but surely pushing you down to take more of his cock. You keep gagging periodically , but you wanted to be so good for your sweet daddy, so you kept at it. Suddenly he pushes you away. 
“You forgot to clean the floor in the bathroom. That’s 15 spanks, sweetie. Over my knee,” he commands you. You quickly scramble up over his knee, you feel his calloused hands brush over your pink lace thong, pulling and tugging at it, just a little.
All of a sudden you feel the first hard spank come down on you. Your backside was burning, he was using all his strength. “Count f‘’me, honey.” 
“O-one. Thank you, daddy. Two. Thank you, daddy. Three, thank you daddy. Four, thank you daddy.” You kept continuing, your legs twitching from the searing pain on your backside. But then you remembered what Eddie would always tell you, that you were almost done, and that you were made to take his pain. That made you feel better, because it was all worth it to please him, and that’s what you were there to do. To please him, to be used.
“All done, princess,” he said, so soothingly as he wiped away your tears. You had trouble getting up off his lap, but you knew that now he’d take care of you.  He gently lifted you, careful not to touch your backside, and laid you down on the couch, face down. You felt his fingers trail down to your clit, his big calloused hands playing with your puffy little clit, teasing you. “Gonna get you ready for my cock, sweetie. Gonna give it to you, nice and deep. Housewives always obey their husbands. They listen. And you did so good today, baby,” he coos at you as you feel his soft but  warm mushroom tip slide into you. 
It was heaven. You were so full, so stuffed with his cock. It was so hard, inside you like a searing rock, but you loved when that soft tip itched closer towards your cervix. You felt him grip your hips harder as you started to twitch from all the pleasure. You loved when he took you like this, it was such a vulnerable position, but since it was for Eddie, you loved it. You were so pliant under him, and he loved the control. He started to rut into you faster, without even asking. It was his choice, and you were loving it. 
“Fuck, just sucking me in so much, sweetheart. You were just made for my cock, weren’t you? Made for me to breed you like this?,” he grunts out, his voice and his words driving you closer to the edge. You feel him inside you, his white and hot cum filling your insides. He grunts like some kind of beast, and you were his cute little prey for the taking. You cum a few seconds later, squeezing and milking his cock for all he’s got.
He pulls out of you, and manhandles you gently so you’re laying on him now, with your legs to the side and head on his chest. “Sleep, hun. Did so well for me today. You just rest, and I’ll get you all cleaned. He reached over to the night table, bringing some painkillers to you alongside a glass of water. He tilts the water towards you. “Drink, honey.” You do as said as he also feeds you the painkillers. After, he rolled you onto your side and bandaged up your backside, along with some aloe Vera to soothe it. “Than’ you, Eds. Love you…” you trail off, still a little hazy and coming out of your subby trance! All you had to do now was lay there and let him baby you for the rest of the night. 
You started making a subby attempt to reach towards him. He smiles, and brings you some clean clothes, alongside your favorite pink stuffie bunny. “I’ll take care of you now, sweet girl. Brought your favorite stuffie for you, and some food if you need,” he gently says as he rubs your back a bit. You smile back at him and his face lights up. You cuddle the bunny as he gets in bed with you and pulls over the covers. A successful day for Eddie and his sweet little housewife. 
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buckys-wintersoldier · 23 hours
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Heated training | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Avenger!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You’re training with Steve but when he is distracted and you push him down once again things become heated.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 2.364
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dry humping, semi public sex, tiny bit angst, fluff
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hiiii! Could you write a Steve x reader where they’re training and she’s like having to tackle him and straddle him and he gets a boner and things get heated and ya know some smut and maybe the reader is Tony’s daughter and somehow word gets out that something happened and there’s some angst in there. Hope you’re okay writing this, thank you !!❤️ @myersmaniac
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request and hope you like what I made with it.
𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 -> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night | N1 | semi private sex | @fandom-free-bingo | MCU Kink Bingo | N3 | Free Square | @mcukinkbingo
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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It’s nothing new that the tall and muscular super soldier has a huge crush on you. He always takes care that his hair looks good and that he is shaved, loving the moments you look at him with a smile on your lips. The way you talk to him, when you need to look up because you’re so small compared to him. It’s at least nothing new to him that he is in love with you; he can’t even remember for how long he has already been in love with you, but he doesn’t dare tell you or anybody else something about it. Not only because you’re Tony Stark's daughter, but also because he doesn’t want to ruin things the two of you have — the wonderful friendship he appreciates.
Steve loves to work with you, spend time with you, or just be close to you. Also, when he can’t touch you in the way he would like to do it, even when he can’t feel your lips all over his body or just cuddle with you in the way he would like, he still enjoys when the two of you laugh and spend time together. Whenever you look at him with those shining eyes and the most adorable and sweet smile on your lips, he loves to hear you laugh, especially when he is the reason for it. He could look at you for hours, admiring you.
“Rogers! Concentration! Otherwise, she tackles you down immediately, again.”
He rolls his eyes over Nat’s comment, even though she is right. You have tackled him down in just a short time since he seems too deep in his thoughts today. He doesn’t really train; it’s more staring at you, trying to grip your wrists before you throw him down, but he often fails to grip your wrists and lands on the ground in no time. Steve’s cheeks are red, and sweat runs all over his face and along his neck. His broad chest and defined abs are covered in sweat as well, his skin softly glistening in the light of the training room.
“Yeah- yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes before he grips your fist and tries to push you down.
But Steve gets distracted by your lips — your beautiful plumb lips, which are slightly parted — and your eyes, which shine like the stars at night. He gets lost in your eyes, and a moment later he feels the mattress underneath his back. You’re sitting on top of him with a big smirk on your lips. You don’t miss the way he looks at you — the way his eyes are focused on your lips and his eyes are slightly darkened. You feel a tingle on your skin when he touches you, but you try not to focus on it during training; otherwise, you both would just stare at one another.
“Sorry guys, Clint is calling. You both don’t mind me picking up?” Natasha asks, already walking out of the door.
Steve, and you look after her. When the door shuts, Steve tries to wiggle you off of him, trying to turn the two of you around, but you grip his fists and press them above his head into the mattress. Moving a bit on top of him to have a better position to hold him in place.
“What stole your concentration today, huh?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.
“N—nothing,” he replies breathlessly, trying to free his hand out of your tight grasp.
You narrow even more and cause your nose to slightly scrunch. Steve chuckles, using the moment of your confusion to free his hands, and tries once again to turn the two of you around. Steve thrusts his hips up, his hands finding their way to your hips. His fingers dig into the fabric of your pants, holding it tightly before he lifts you up. But he hasn’t thought you would jump and let yourself fall down back on him, landing perfectly on his growing bulge in his pants and causing both of you to moan.
Steve's eyes widen immediately, and thoughts run through his mind to find an excuse why his dick is hard. When you look into his wide eyes, you’re just as big as his, gasping about the sudden feeling between your thighs.
“F— Sorry,” he mumbles, blushing slightly.
“Why do you have your phone? No, your keys are in your pocket?” You ask, confused, why he thought of putting it out of his pocket before you two started the training.
“I— That’s not my phone nor my key,” he admits quietly.
You narrow, tilting your head slightly to the side, until you realize what’s pressing against your soaked pussy. It doesn’t feel bad at all, but you didn’t know he felt that way for you, or at least he wouldn’t get a hard on during training. But you straddle him for a few minutes already, so it’s understandable that he gets hard when he is attracted to you and when you move in his cock.
You slowly move your hips, feeling his length rubbing against you. Maybe you should get off of him, but it feels too good to do so, so you’re moving slowly, looking deep into his eyes while you wait for Steve to stop you from grinding against him when he doesn’t like it. But he gasps and digs his finger more into your covered skin, helping you grind on his cock.
“Princess, we—we can’t.”
“Why not? Don’t you like it?” You ask, pouting while you stop your movements on his growing dick.
“I love it— I—I love you, but—“
His eyes widen even more when he realizes what he just said. His cheeks heat up, and he opens his mouth to form an apology, but there is nothing he has in mind to say. He’s adorable when he is shy and slightly embarrassed — not that you like seeing him embarrassed around you, just that his lips are slightly parted, his blue eyes look so lovely but at the same time unsure, and his red cheeks — just hot and cute at the same time. First he got hard while training, and now he told you he loves you; he would face palm himself when his hands wouldn’t be clued to your waist, not wanting to let go of you because you could move away from his cock.
Your smirk grows when you lean closer, your lips just an inch away from his, and you can feel his warm breath on your sweaty skin. Steve closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, before he lifts his head and breaks the distance between your lips. His soft, pink lips move perfectly against yours, and he licks over your lips to ask for access. You’re parting your lips, and you're deepening the kiss until both of you need to pull away to breathe deeply.
“I love you too. Please— I need you, Stevie,” you mumble, moving your hips harder on his covered cock.
Steve groans, throwing his head back and giving you more space to kiss and bite into the soft skin of his neck. You lick a strap along his neck, chasing him to close his eyes and thrust his hips up. His bulge presses more against your covered pussy, and you moan softly.
“Everyone could see us!” He breathes heavily, looking through his lashes at you.
You sit up and smirk when your hands slide over his broad chest, and you start moving your hips at a fast but steady pace over his dick. He is panting underneath you; with his hands, he helps you to move on top of him, pushing you further down to cause more friction.
“S—Steve, I’m so close,” you whimper.
The tip of his cock is hitting your clit with every thrust, and you push both of you closer to your edge. He didn’t know it could feel that good without being inside of you, but it does, and he is just as close as you.
“Tell me we’re going to get in your room and do it again; tell me you’re mine,” Steve says, slowing your hips down.
Pre-cum is soaking his pants, and he just wants to push you more on his cock and guide you over it to make both of you come, but he wants to hear that you’re his.
“So possessive, huh?” You ask, teasingly.”
His answer is just a harsh movement of his hips. You moan and throw your head back, trying to move faster, but he stops you with his grasp.
“S— Stevie. We can do it as often as you want; I’m yours— I’m all yours, but please let me come,” you whine.
Steve grins, moving your hips faster on his dick and bringing you closer to the edge. It doesn’t take long for the two of you until you’re coming, clenching around nothing while Steve is soaking his pants with his cum. You’re both breathing heavily and calming down from your high when you hear someone coming back into the room.
“G— What are you two doing, sitting like that and doing nothing?” Tony asks, narrowing.
Steve chuckles, nodding his head. Tony just wants to inform you that you are going to have a meeting, but seeing you on top of Steve, straddling him, wasn’t something he expected to see when he came into the training room. Actually, the two of you are always trying to tackle one another.
“Oke—“ he pauses, nodding his head and inhaling. “Meeting.”
With that, he leaves the room, and you laugh. Your brother’s expression was just too funny. You lean down, capture Steve’s lips, and kiss him softly.
“After the meeting, I’m all yours.”
“You’re already mine, but then we repeat that here without clothes.”
You then get off of Steve. The blond-haired man looks at the wet spot on his pants and smirks when he sees you staring at his covered cock. You both take a shower because you get ready for the meeting Tony told you about — next mission, which isn’t really interesting for you since you only have your eyes on one another.
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Steve and you have been secretly dating for a few weeks now. You often spend time together, which isn’t new to see for the others. Even when you smile in another way, your gazes are different — happier — but no one really asks about it. They are just happy that Steve and you are happy — still thinking you’re best friends.
When Tony asks you to come into his office because he wants to talk with you, you have a huge smile on your face. When you knock at the door and swing it open, you freeze immediately. Steve is sitting there in front of your father, who looks angry, and you swallow hard. The smile fades away, and you look slightly confused.
“Come in and close the door.”
You do as you’re told; you close the door behind you and walk toward the men, letting yourself fall down next to Steve on a chair. Tony looks at you before he moves to face Steve; he then points at the monitor on the desk in front of you.
When your father turns on the video, you gasp, your eyes widen, and your hands get sweaty. You hear Steve inhaling deeply next to you. He swallows hard and slides down in his chair. The video that Tony is showing of the two of you shows Steve and you making out on the floor before you pull him with you into your room.
You know Tony isn’t a friend of the men around you; he is protective and doesn’t want someone to hurt you. He already made your ex-boyfriend run away because he was afraid of Tony’s Iron Man suit walking without him inside the suit.
“D—Dad, I would say i—it’s not what it looks like what Steve and I did, but it is. B—“
“Rogers!” Tony says, his jaw clenching when he looks at your boyfriend.
“Tony, I—I don’t want to hurt her. I—I love her,” Steve says, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, afraid of what your father could say.
Steve sighs, looking down and inhaling deeply. He rubs his hands over his pants and sighs once again before he continues to speak.
“I would never do anything she didn’t want to. Tony, I love her.”
You smile softly, but your body is still tensed, and you don’t dare look at Steve. Tony nods, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers on the surface of his desk.
“Do you love him?” He asks, looking at you, and you nod, then he turns his face back to Steve. “When you hurt her, I will cut your balls off!”
Steve doesn’t know if he wants to smile or swallow hard, but he smiles, nodding and turning toward you. He places his hand in front of you, waiting until you place yours in his big one before he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your soft skin. Tony rolls playfully with his eyes, watching the two of you when you lean in to press your lips against Steve’s, soft and sweet.
"First, the gentleman an— Get a room!” Tony shouts, and you burst out laughing about the way he raises his eyebrows and grasps the surface of the table.
“We will,” you tell him, smirking when you get up and pull Steve with you.
With a wink at Tony, you make your way to the door of his office, leaving it. Before you can walk further through the floor, Steve pushes you against the wall behind you, attacking your lips with his.
“I love you so much, princess.”
“I love you too, Stevie.”
With that, he lifts you up and carries you into your bedroom, continuing what you have seen in the video Tony shows the two of you. And you’re glad he accepts what you have with Steve, because it’s special, and you’re happier than you ever have been since you've been with Steve. He treats you like a princess, like his perfect and sweet princess.
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77@bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @pono-pura-vida @princesscore-angel
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cupidsdolll · 6 months
Text
treat
Steve’s always been a giver, in friends and family but most especially with his romantic and sexual partners. He loves to give, give, give until he’s spent and tired and sweaty. He gives until there’s nothing left to give or more importantly until there’s nothing more to take. He could be going down on someone for hours, just giving them their utmost pleasure and pulling out as many orgasms as he can from them.
Steve can’t seem to stop, his fingers almost lazily thrusting in and out of you as he just watches you. He watches your reactions, how your eyes squeeze close and your mouth stays parted as you gasp and pant.
“Oh, fuck. Please, nngh, Steve, feels s’good.” He chuckles lowly at that before going back to watching his fingers slide easily in and out. He’s been going at it for at least an hour, maybe more if he’s being honest.
He’s managed to coax two orgasms out of you already and if the tight coil in your stomach says anything, it’s about to be three. You’re hot, tired, sweaty, and raw. Your body keeps squirming every time Steve’s fingers slide inwards but the moans that flow from your mouth are breathless. You can’t decide if you want him to stop or keep going, the sting isn’t exactly all that painful really. It’s the level of pain that’s pleasurable and sends shocks all the way to your fingers. The chilled air in the room nips at your bare skin and you arch your back off the bed as his fingers brush over the small bundle of nerves that only he’s been able to find every single time.
You can hear Steve’s grunts and groans from in between your legs, and feel his hot breath fanning the inside of your thighs.
“Please, Stevie.” You don’t know what you’re begging for, all you know is it’s not enough but too much at the same time.
“Are you feeling good, honey?” His voice is laced with lust and seems to seep into your bones as you nod your head.
“Feels s’good baby. Love you.” You all but sigh as his fingers brush over that sensitive spot yet again. Your hips begin to roll against his fingers, chasing that little bubble of bliss as it grows stronger.
“Love you too, been so good to me lately. Just wanna make you feel good, you deserve all the treats.” He softly places a soft kiss on your inner thighs and you can’t help the soft whimper from the gentleness of it all.
You’ve never had someone so willing to just give head you’ve never had someone that wants to focus on your pleasure and not just theirs. It’s exciting and rewarding and you just love him with all your heart. Never once has he turned down an opportunity to lay in between your legs, or not teasingly slid his hand down your pants with the pathetic excuse of trying to warm up his hand. He just wants to treat you right and love you the way you deserve.
As your mind wanders, you finally feel the break release. Your body shakes slightly and your eyes roll to the back of your head as one of your hands grips Steve’s hair and you can faintly make out Steve’s praises. Something along the lines of how good you did and just how good you look right now. He slowly continues, allowing you to ride out the aftershocks all the while kissing your thighs softly and he takes hold of your hand in his hair. He intertwines your hands together before you whine in overstimulation and he pulls away, lips slicked with your arousal and a loving smile on his face.
He makes his way up and softly kisses your lips before muttering how he needs to clean you up, his own erection completely disregarded for the sake of your comfort.
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Text
Lucky charm - Steve Harrington
Hi! I'm knocking the cobwebs off my smut writing skills and would love to hear what you guys think!
18+ ONLY! No minors
Contents: Rugby!Steve x Fem!Reader, no use of Y/N, fairly blank slate reader, SMUT, unprotected piv, creampie, a little breeding, use of pet names, reader and Steve are both in university, I think that's it
~
Victory looks good on Steve, the hum of it through his veins practically palpable as he kisses you, the air nearly feverish as you both rid yourself of the last bits of cloth standing between your bodies.
"Looked so good out there Stevie." He preens at the words you manage between kisses, laying you back on the sheets with a low groan as he settles between your legs.
"That why you were screamin like that baby?" He teases as you whimper, the length of his hard cock pressing against your core. "Kept distracting me out there."
"Sorry." Your hips rock down, driving the head of his cock through your slit to nudge at your clit, drawing an almost pained sound from Steve. Taking his cock in his hand, he kisses you as he pushes in, stretching you so wonderfully.
"Don't be sorry baby, I love hearing you." His pace is slow but intense, rocking into you as he tangles your fingers together. "Love knowing you're close, makes me feel lucky." Your eyes are starting to shut, unable to overcome the pleasure.
"My good luck charm, huh baby? Is that what you are?" Your head is swimming under Steve's attentions, the weight of him above you and the rut of his hips as he drives into you. "Answer me." There's hardly air in your lungs for the breathy affirmation you manage to choke out.
He ducks his head to press kisses all down your shoulder, using the intertwining of your fingers to hold you steady as you whine and squirm.
"S-Steve~" your words leave you as you clench down on him, that familiar twist in your belly winding tighter and tighter.
"I know baby, that's it," he soothes you tenderly, brushing the tip of his nose along your cheek "cum on my cock, sweet thing, make me a lucky man." His sweet tone proves too much and you unravel, shaking in his hold as your ears ring with pleasure.
"Good job baby, God, fuck!" Steve is only moments behind you, catching your moans with his lips locked to yours as he drives himself so deep it aches and the weight of his cum spills into you. Your body feels so warm and heavy, you couldn't move if you wanted to, your lashes fluttering weakly as your boyfriend coaxes you back to the world with sweet kisses and gentle hands smoothing over you. The aftershocks still rock through your body, your pussy squeezing around his length drawing a low groan from him. He's still deep inside you, keeping you full of him for as long as he can until you come back to your senses enough to coax him off of you with kisses and a promise to hurry back.
~
Thanks for reading! Please like/reblog/comment and tell me what you thought! Ik the rugby aspect was pretty thin, but that's turning into a longer fic lol
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astermath · 8 months
Text
the premiere.
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pairing: actor!steve harrington x actress!reader
summary: you're a recent addition to hollywood's up and coming promising actors. you'd recently scored the lead role in an emotional period drama, and you're more than surprised to see that top shelf douchebag and america's starboy, steve harrington, has shown up to your premiere. you’re soon confronted with his flirtatious attitude, and you feel the incessant need to put him in his place. it’s a first for both of you.
♡ landing page. ♡
word count: 4.9K
tags: some cursing, mentions of sex, steve is a cocky asshole and will continue to be one, regular font below!
notes: man I do love me some actor!steve because let's be honest, joe keery easily transfers his star power over to all his characters. it's not exactly hard to believe that steve would be a respected actor. let me know what you think and / or if you’d like to be added to the tag list! ♡
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They always say life moves fast in Hollywood. Back in your audition days, you wouldn’t believe it. You could practically feel the hours eating away at you as you waited for calls to be returned and scripts to be sent.
Even when you started filming your first big movie, working with such a well respected director and incredible cast, you felt like you were dragging along most of the time. Sure, it was an amazing experience, but the set hours are long, and the time spent overthinking is even longer.
Thinking about if this would be it, if this is what would put you on the map as a talented actress.
You only realised how fast time really moves in Hollywood when you’re discussing the premiere with your manager. Your first big reveal. You’re in the spotlight, everyone will be there to see you. And not just reviewers and fellow cast members, no, people you’ve looked up to before, people you’ve only ever seen on the big screen.
“Are you listening?” Your manager’s voice pulls you right out of your hazy cloud of thoughts. She’s sat across from you, glasses pushed down onto the bridge of her nose, cappuccino in one hand, the other on her laptop.
“Yeah, I’m— I’m here. I’m, uh…” You lean back, clasping your hands together. “You’ve got my attention, sorry Miranda.”
She sighs, readjusting her glasses and bringing her attention back to her screen.
Miranda has been your saviour since day one. She’s got plenty of experience, once having been an actress herself, and now works on managing mostly young women like yourself. She’s a bit tough, stern, but she’s amazing at what she does. Besides, she usually knows what’s best for you before you even know it. She’s got that motherly intuition about her, despite being unmarried without kids.
Your eyes drift over the interior of her apartment. It’s modern, sleek, like her. There’s not much personality shining through it, unless you look hard enough. Then you’d notice she likes orchids, since she has multiple of them potted and well taken care of. Or the numerous photos of the same town in Italy.
She keeps herself busy with scrolling through the list of attendees to the premiere. A bunch of yes’es, a few maybe’s, and the occasional “sorry, however, congratulations on the movie”.
She stills her movements when she gets to the bottom of the list, scrolling up again to see if she’s looking at the right column and then scrolling back down to see if she saw the name right.
“Hm,” she purses her lips, “that’s… Peculiar.”
“What is?” you perk up. Peculiar. That could mean a lot of things. Peculiar as in “your movie is scrapped, actually” or peculiar as in “you’re already nominated for an Oscar”?
“This name. I’ve never seen it on the attendee list before. At least not for my clients.”
“Miranda, you’re killing me with this suspense, please.” You lean forward, your elbows resting onto your knees.
"Steve Harrington." She pauses, and you don't know if she's doing it to be dramatic, or because she's waiting for some kind of elaborate gasp or shocked response.
Instead, you raise an eyebrow, head quirking slightly to the side. "Who?"
You can tell in your manager's eyes that she didn't expect that. Not in her facial expression, of course, she doesn't want wrinkles.
"Christ, sweetie, you're kidding right?" She lets out a dry chuckle, setting down her now empty coffee cup on the end table next to her. sofa. "We've really got to touch up on your media knowledge if you don't know who that is."
"No clue, sorry. What, is he some big deal or something?" You snatch a cookie off the coffee table and start nibbling on it mindlessly.
"Only one of the most popular up and coming actors in the industry." She starts click clacking away on her laptop, pulling up a picture of him and turning the screen around so you can see.
You raise your eyebrows. Damn, not bad. He looks to be around your age, a little older, and you can tell from just that one picture that he knows he's all that. The confidence is practically oozing out of that million dollar smile of his, expensive sunglasses tucked away in his somehow perfectly styled hair.
"So what, he's going to be there. Not like there aren't any other big celebs showing up, I'm sure I can handle myself."
"It's not that I don't think you can behave, starlight, although we'll have to go over some of the red carpet etiquette again later." She takes off her glasses and runs a hand through her short but chic hair.
"Then what is it?"
"He doesn't really... Show up to premieres, usually. Well, none that aren't for his own movies, at least."
Oh, so he is that kind of guy.
You wrap up with Miranda not long after, heading to one last fitting of your premiere gown before returning to your apartment. That's when you start to do your own research on this Harrington fella.
You sit onto your bed, leaned back against a few pillows propped up against your headboard. You open Google and start by what seems the simplest; typing in Steve Harrington.
Steve Harrington age?
Steve Harrington height?
Steve Harrington movies?
The third one seems obvious, but you click it anyways. He doesn’t have a bad track record. A few nominations, one Golden Globe, he’s not slacking for sure.
Most of his stuff paints him as the type of guy you’d expect; undercover agent, the bad boy, the mob boss’ son… Makes you wonder even more why he’s showing up to the premiere of your movie. It has virtually nothing to do with the types of movies he stars in. You’re wondering why he even got an invitation to begin with, Miranda doesn’t seem like the type of woman to be sending those out to every C lister in America.
You type in his name again, curious to know more about his reputation.
Steve Harrington parents?
Steve Harrington dating history?
Though it is cliché, it does intrigue you. You’re not exactly surprised when a handful of names pop up, even one you recognise. Nancy Wheeler. You know that girl, she used to do interviews when you were still starting out. Apparently she went more into the crime journalist route, wrote a book… Pretty interesting stuff.
Almost as interesting as the breakup you’re reading so much about.
“Harrington broken in half? Did Nancy Wheeler finally have enough of his ego, or was she just looking for the next thing to report?”
“Geez, talk about a harsh headline…” You mutter to yourself. Besides her, there’s no mentions of other women he’s been confirmed to date. There’s been pictures, rumours, but you’re guessing he… Gets around.
Steve Harrington controversies?
You feel bad for clicking on it, but then again, you’re already in too deep now.
Something about nepotism, but that’s soon debunked when you realise his parents don’t do anything in the movie industry. Then there’s the Nancy thing, and something about him being difficult to work with. You could have guessed as much just by looking at the guy. You just know he flashes that smile like it’s a method of payment, and he probably gets away with it too.
You reach out and shut your laptop before you go too far down this rabbit hole. Your schedule is packed, and the premiere is only three days away. You've got better things to do than go all Sherlock on this random actor that's showing up.
Though it is unusual.
And he is handsome.
-
Yeah. It is true. Life does move fast in Hollywood.
Now you know for sure. Because not long ago, you were looking up Steve Harrington's name, like some deprived fangirl, and now you're on your way to the event he's supposed to be at.
The car seems packed, almost claustrophobically so. Miranda sits right of you, on the phone with someone who you can only assume to be too important to interrupt. On the left is your makeup artist, giving you some final touchups before your big entrance.
You don't know if this is the best or worst part about your rising fame. On one hand, it's all you've ever dreamed of. Of being recognised, making a name for yourself, getting to show the world what you can do. You're appreciated, celebrated, but on the other hand, you feel a bit like a product. The way you're sitting in this car, getting all dolled up, rehearsing what you'll say in the interviews... Miranda tells you you'll get used to it, but you're honestly not too sure.
Soon enough, you’re ushered out of the car by your manager. The same way you’ll never get used to the feeling of fame, is the same way you’ll never get used to having your name called out as you’re bombarded with camera flashes. This is only the entrance to the premiere, and you’re already overwhelmed. But you know that this is the worst part, so instead, you put on a smile and greet everyone.
Although you're having a little trouble walking in your gown, and not to mention those godforsaken heels, you soon make it to the actual red carpet for some photos. Your attention is called by several photographers, some asking who you're wearing, some just wanting you to look into the camera.
You look beautiful.
Your dress is a powdery blue, a close match to the dress you wear for most of the movie. It flows beautifully with your body, the silk catching the light in all the right ways. Your accessories and hair are adorned by white gold and pearls, classy, chic, but not boring. You feel like you're dressing up. Not a "let's go out somewhere fancy" dressing up, more like a "putting on your mom's heels" dressing up.
Part of all of this feels like you're playing pretend. Like you're not really supposed to be there. Like everyone's doing you a favour by being here, celebrating you and your movie. Though nothing could be further from the truth, the impostor syndrome somehow still gets to you, every time. You try not to let it show on your face, striking a casual pose, and smiling softly.
You look beautiful.
Steve thinks so too.
Only now he's reminded of why he came to this event. It's made the extra hoops he had to jump through all worth it. The extra questions by his management, the raised eyebrows when he arrived, the interviewers he, for once, has been trying to dodge.
He thought you looked pretty on the big screen, but no camera does you justice as much as the naked eye does.
He recognises something in you. Something nervous. Not necessarily innocent, just... New. It excites him a little, his mind already wandering to you allowing him to show you all the corners of the showbiz. Because he's a seasoned professional, of course. At least he likes to think so. He might only have a few years up on you, but he knows he's made for this. To act, to be famous. He knows you'd look amazing doing it next to him too.
"Mr Harrington!"
Some photographer calling his name catches him off guard, and so he brings his attention to the lens, flashing a cocky smile.
It catches your attention, too. The name more than the callout. You knew he'd be there, but for some reason you figured you'd have a bit more... Mental preparation. But what do you care, right? He probably wants you to gawk at him, be the little innocent newbie, borderline groupie, who can't believe it's really him.
You know better than to feed into his ego.
Which is why you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he smiles at you instead. You know he won't come up to you, he knows better than to embarrass you in front of all these people. You just don't know if he can resist himself later.
Then again, maybe you've got it all wrong. Maybe he just happens to really like 18th century period pieces about a girl finding a connection with her long lost mother. But somehow you'd find that hard to believe.
-
You go inside the theatre, and you finally get to enjoy the best part. This is when you try to disconnect from your job for a second, from the image you've built for yourself. When you're in front of the big screen, seated with all these people, you're 12 years old again.
You go watch a movie with your mom, it's your favourite time of the month. You share a large popcorn, and you can barely contain your excitement when the lights dim. Somehow, every emotion feels bigger like this. You've watched countless women pour their hearts out in movies, give their everything for their art, their passion. You've always been determined to be like them. To make other people resonate with a character so much it brings them to tears.
When you watch your own movies, you're not watching yourself. You're a little girl again, admiring the performance like you always used to. It makes this career more worth it than anything else, than all the glamour and money anyone could offer.
You bite your lip in anticipation when the theatre goes dark, toying with the bracelet on your wrist. You've seen it before, but not like this. Not like how it's meant to be watched.
Everything fits right. The music immerses you perfectly, the environments are meticulously chosen and everyone plays their part like they were born to do so.
And you're starstruck. By yourself, no less. You've always stayed humble, that's something you'd never give up. But you're also proud. So proud. This is something you've worked so hard for, everyone on the crew has, so you feel no remorse when you admit it's perfect.
The movie is emotional, and nearing the end, the melancholy of it all reaches its climax. Your character runs through a field of poppies, all blooming as she passes each one, chasing what she thinks is a vision of her mother when she was younger. The girl being chased giggles, as the main character keeps calling out her mother's name in tears. She's brought to her knees at the end of the field, the edge of a cliff, reaching desperately to hold onto the memory of her long lost mother.
You let out a tear. Hell, most people do, even Miranda can't hold it. It's one hell of a scene, the orchestral soundtrack alone could make someone cry. It makes your heart swell.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can tell someone else is really letting the waterworks go.
Wait-- That's not just someone.
That's Steve Harrington. Crying. Because of your acting.
You can tell he's trying to hide it a little, hiding his lower face behind a clenched wrist, the tears leaving little stripes of wetness on his skin. Running past his stubbly jaw, dropping onto the fabric of his tuxedo.
You can't imagine this is normal for him. Apparently it was already a rare apparition to see him at your premiere, and now he's publicly crying too. Well, you don't know if anyone else is observing it, but you know what you're seeing. That's pure, raw emotion right there.
You bring your attention back to the screen, hoping he hasn't noticed your staring.
The movie comes to a close, and the audience arises in a standing ovation. You get up, giggling a little coyly at all this sudden attention. The director comes up to you, taking your hand and bringing you along with the rest of the crew to the front so you can take a bow. Your face beams with happiness, and it's contagious.
It makes Steve return the smile, even though it's not even necessarily directed at him. You're just so pretty, all excitement and modesty, so untouched by fame's worst sides. It pulls him straight to you in a way he hasn't experienced before, there's just something so... Sincere about you. Something so gorgeous.
He makes eye contact with you as you come back up from your bow. The smile he gives you is nearly a copy and paste from the ones you saw online, where you can tell exactly what he's trying to say just from his expression. It's like his face just reads "atta girl".
It's really hot. And you hate how it makes you feel.
You exit faster than you probably should. You mutter to Miranda that you just need some fresh air, but really, you need to get away from this Harrington man before you fall head over heels for his stupid tactics. He hasn't said a word to you yet, and you already feel yourself slipping into the enthralling arms of his charm.
You change your mind, earlier was not the worst part. This is. Because now you have to pretend like you're not mentally having a crisis while still answering questions and mingling.
You deal well with most of the compliments and praise. You get a bit of butterflies every time a household name or someone you look up to acknowledges you, and you practically feel like ascending when they say they like your work.
You're in the middle of speaking to one of your co-actors and your manager, when she's suddenly giving you the eyes. With Miranda, this can mean two things;
There is a fire happening, or--
There is someone important behind you.
She's done this before when Robert De Niro was getting interviewed just a meter away from you. But you have a feeling you know who it is this time. Though you're not sure how excited you are by it.
You look over your shoulder, and surely, there he is.
All suave and charm, smooth tuxedo, freckled tan skin and perfect hair. He encapsulates the entirety of Hollywood so well, and you're not quite sure how to respond.
"I'm a little starstruck, I gotta say." he says, and you're not sure why you're even surprised that his voice is that nice.
"Really?" You give Miranda your "help me" eyes for a moment, but she's already off to get more champagne. With no lifeline to hang onto, you figure you might as well entertain him for a moment. "Guess I could say the same about you."
"Hey, I'm not the reason we're all here, am I?" He chuckles, and you're unsure if it's a rhetorical question or not. From what you can tell, maybe he does think everyone's here for him. You try your hardest to fend off those preconceptions of him, but although you are new to all of this, you’re not stupid. You know how men can be once they start getting attention.
“I just wanted to congratulate you on the movie.” He says, voice dripping with honey, placing his large warm hand over your arm. It would surprise you, if it didn’t feel so nice. “Truly a great performance, and I mean that. I’m not even usually one for period pieces.”
He doesn’t realise that makes him look even more suspicious for showing up here at all. Why would you go to a premiere for a movie of a genre you don’t like?
“Thank you, I appreciate that, Mr…” You pretend not to know his name, for multiple reasons. To make yourself seem a little more nonchalant, or maybe you just want to give his ego that little chop it so obviously needs.
“Harrington. Though I assumed you knew, my bad.”
You refrain from rolling your eyes. Of course he would.
“I’m surprised to see you here.” You implore, and Steve’s eyebrows raise a little. He was hoping you wouldn’t ask that, but he supposes it was bound to happen eventually.
“Ah, well, the director is a friend of mine. I figured I’d show up for support, you know, keep the connection up.” He’s lying through his teeth, and you both know it. But part of Hollywood is pretending like you’re all not just lying to each other the whole time. You’ve gotten more used to it over time.
Neither of you mention what you saw inside. Partly because you’re unsure if you were imagining it, and partly because you wouldn’t even know where to insert it. Yet the sight of him getting emotional lingers in the back of your head.
“I thought you uh, didn’t know who I was?” Steve remarks, and you catch your own slip up now too. Why would you care if he showed up, if you didn’t even know his name?
“Oh, I do, your uh… Your name just slipped my mind.” Your nonchalant façade starts to falter, and you’re hoping it doesn’t make you look as much of a fool as you think you do.
Instead of pressing on, he chuckles. It’s a warm chuckle, low, smooth, it sends a shiver down your spine. He seems amused by you, for a reason you can’t quite make out.
He presses a hand to the small of your back, leaning in closely to your ear, and you think you might start seeing stars. He smells so incredibly good, you nearly melt into his touch, whether you mean to or not.
“Well, make sure to make it stick this time, hm, honey?”
You’re pretty sure your entire body has heated up just from hearing that. You hate how well his charm works on you, that silky voice and smug demeanour.
He pulls back, and just as you expected, he’s smiling like the cat that got the cream. “See you around, princess. Enjoy your premiere.”
You’ve had a lot of mind blowing shit happen to you already. The fact that you’re standing at your own movie premiere, surrounded by people you admire is insane to you on its own.
Now you’re getting flirted with by one of Hollywood’s golden boys, and you just have to play it cool. Pretend that you don’t feel like giggling like a teenage girl and getting all flustered. It makes you sick to your stomach. It makes you mad. That he can walk off, just like that, all cocky and confident. You don't want him to think of you like the innocent debutante that he can just play around with for a bit, before he moves on to the next young thing. You've seen that movie before.
Before you have a chance to let it get to your head, one of your costars, the younger girl that plays your little sister, comes up to you. "Geez, you okay? You look a little... Pressed."
"'M fine. Just-- a little frustrated. Sorry I haven't said hi yet, this is all... A lot, you know?"
"You'll get used to it." She sips her glass of champagne, and you want to say something about it, before you remember she's only two years younger than you. She's been an actress since she was 6 years old, she knows the industry so much better than you, and yet you feel protective over her.
"I don't think I ever will, to be honest. God, my shoes are killing me." You groan, hoping no one's close enough to hear you complain. The last thing you want is to come across as ungrateful for all this.
"Have some more champagne, that usually does the trick." She looks off to the side for a moment, and you can tell she's a little tense too. "Me and the rest of the girls on crew are going to get drinks and food later, wanna join?"
Her invitation brings a smile to your face. Though you're constantly surrounded by people, Hollywood brings a profound sense of loneliness into your life. You have trouble fitting in, connecting. Everyone is all smiles and compliments, yet no one talks, no one calls. Anything is rarely personal. And making friends is hell.
"I'd love to, seriously. Tell you what, it's my treat. To celebrate our premiere, hm?"
She smiles back, leaving her empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. "Cool. I'm off to the bathroom, cab's gonna be out front around 8."
She leaves you shortly after, and suddenly it's there again. That profound sense of loneliness. It's got you left thinking about what Steve said to you. How he talked to you. That tone.
It makes you feel small. Yet you hold on to every word.
How infuriating.
The rest of the premiere is a dazed flurry of conversations and pictures taken in your memory. You've got too much on your mind now to enjoy most of it, and you damn that smug asshole for being the reason for that.
You walk outside, the sky being a lot darker than you expected. You sigh, the air you breathe out coming out in little clouds. April shouldn't be this cold, not in California, at least.
You look around, no cab to be seen yet. Your eyes catch sight of a familiar man smoking. He flicks open an expensive lighter, his hands shielding the flame from the wind.
The fire frames his face in a special kind of light. It shows both the pretty freckles scattered on his skin, and the bags present under his eyes. The strange dichotomy of his personality, represented so simply on his face.
It just pisses you off even more how handsome he is.
Before you realise it, your legs are taking you closer to him, heels clicking onto the pavement as you strut over. He only seems to notice your presence when your shadow casts over him, taking away the yellowish glow of the streetlight.
"Missed me already?" He smiles, lips still wrapped around the cigarette before he takes it between his fingers.
"You can't talk to someone like that. At least not to me." You don't know where this sudden surge of confidence sprouted from, your words even surprising yourself.
"I'm sorry?" He stands up straighter, and though his stature is definitely taller than yours, you try not to let it phase you.
"I know what you're trying to do. I'm not dumb. Maybe you think I am, but I'm not." You cross your arms, partly to shield yourself from the cold, partly to feign courage.
"And what do you think I'm doing then, hm?" The smile on his face makes you want to desperately smack it right off. He really is exactly like people say.
"Don't act stupid with me. You think you've got me all figured out, huh? You randomly show up to my premiere, and the first time we talk, you try to butter me up. Did you expect me to drop to my knees for you or something? Thank you for gracing me with your almighty presence, which for the record, I did not ask for?"
He's speechless for a second. This is a first. Usually, when a woman is cussing him out, it's after they've dated, not before.
He chuckles, dropping his half smoked cigarette onto the ground and stamping it out with his shoe.
"Sounds like you think you've got me all figured out, doll."
"Don't call me that."
"It's not a bad thing."
"I decide that. Not you."
He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning his head back for a moment. "Geez... So much for first impressions huh?"
"I'm not the one trying to get into the other's pants now, am I?"
"Coulda fooled me."
"God, you're fucking insufferable." You laugh dryly, rolling your eyes. "You think I'm some stupid showbiz newbie, that I'm supposed to be grateful you're even talking to me. Maybe have sex with you and see what opportunities I get out of it."
He just looks at you now. You don't know if that's better than a response, because he's neither confirming nor denying it. Or maybe he realises nothing he says will save him in this. He'd be right about that.
"Do me a favour, if you’re just going to treat me like a ditz, don’t talk to me again. I’m already forced to deal with enough guys like you on the daily, so go bother someone else.”
As if called by some higher being, the cab, along with the girls you were supposed to meet, arrive outside. You gave Steve no time to respond, instead offering him a cold shoulder and some time to let all of that sink in. Though you doubt your words are going to make him change that attitude any time soon.
He leans against the wall outside, watching the dark car you got in drive by and away into the nightly city. He’s not sure what to do with what’s just been given to him.
No woman has ever figured him out this early on. Or maybe they have, and they just never told him this outright. It’s not like he tries to hide the type of person that he is, it’s just that it usually never blows up in his face this much. You’ve taken his flirting, turned it around and served it right back at him to make him think it all over. You‘ve practically rendered him speechless, and it’s only your first time meeting.
It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
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trashmouth-richie · 7 months
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𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎
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older! college coach! steve x fem! reader
summary: your mysterious coach was always hot headed and pushed you harder than the other girls, after losing an important game, you both find ways to release your frustrations.
triggers: 18+ ; steve is thirty and reader is early twenties and plays basketball in college. smut, light use of pet names, no y/n, steve is a dick to reader and has a huge one, biting, hickies, p in v no condom. Very slight mention of blood, indication of simp behavior at the end.
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  “Hustle girls!”
  “Box her out!”
  “Are you fucking kidding me 22?” 
  His workout tank was ringed dark around the hem of the neck, glistening drops of sweat travel from the column of his neck down into the gray cotton blend fabric. 
  He was pissed. When wasn’t he?
  A rogue strand of hair escapes from the style he had down to a science, red blotches flashed across his cheeks and neck, veins poked out from his vacation tanned skin. 
  Last night's game ended horribly. And today you were all paying the price for it. 
  -
With only 10 seconds left on the clock in the 4th quarter, the play he had drawn up on the marker board was the exact same one you had been practicing since your first year at college. Only this time you were getting the ball after Mel faked to Blair, with just enough time to shoot that beautiful three point shot you had been perfecting since high school. 
   The squeak from the black expo marker under his thick fingers wrote out his code: Hawkins for the play that was drilled into your brain by coach for the last year. 
  “Run it just how we’ve been practicing, I’m telling you it’ll work.” 
  Mel’s fake out didn’t work and you had gotten the ball late. Each dribble from the floorboards into your sweaty palm felt like a heartbeat. The girl guarding you swatted at the ball, missing just barely as she attempted to make a steal, trying to force you to foul her when she had the ball to waste more time and grant you your fourth foul, ending your playing time. 
  A quick move around her and a cross to your left hand had her stumbling over her ankles like Bambi, and you cut to the three point line, lined up your Nike’s to the hoop like your dad had taught you, and arched the ball into the air. 
  The buzzer was blaring when the orange ball left your finger tips, tongue poking out and your ponytail fluttering behind you. the gymnasium lights were hospital white, piercing your eyes and making you see dots as you landed on your feet, your competitor reaching for the ball at the last second. 
  Anticipation filled your lungs as the ball circled around and around the rim. The girls and coach all rose from the bench and waited with hands on their heads or holding hands watching the ball spin.
  And with a sick twist, it fell out. Landing to the floor with a silent thud as the bleachers erupted into a nascar loud roar. 
  Bulldogs: 60 Pirates: 58 
  He was furious. 
  Clipboards snapped on his khaki thighs as you all sat on the wooden benches of the sweaty walled locker room. He didn’t yell, he didn’t speak to anyone other than glaring into the ceiling. 
  “Pack your shit, bus leaves in five.” 
  No times for showering or debriefing, you and your teammates were hustled to the bus as he snapped his fingers, let’s go let’s go let’s go! 
  Refusing to let the bus driver stop to get water or any sort of snacks on the way home. “They don’t deserve it.” He preened, looking at your sad faces with a disapproval that cut so deep it had some of the girls in tears.
   His mossy green eyes stopped on yours and the disappointment brewed to hatred, his eyes burning emerald, he blew air through his nose and clenched his knuckles, “none of them.” 
  Mel had thrown up twice during Coach’s infamous Hellfire Sprints. Her and her boyfriend Trevor, who was practically your 5th suitemate, had stayed up until dawn doing pulls from a tequila bottle and hitting his dab pen. 
  You hadn’t slept either. 
  Laying on top of your comforter with wet hair and lotion slicked skin, racking your brain with how the shot felt a tiny bit off from your fingers, how coach’s eyes looked like a fucking demon’s when he glared at you on the bus. 
  How the Sunday morning practice, which was usually laid back and games of pig and watching game tape, was going to be hell on earth. 
  “22 if I have to tell you one more time to move your ass I’m cutting you from this team do you hear me?” 
  You rolled your eyes as you pushed yourself faster to touch the black line, beating out the other girls by a full few seconds. 
  After the sixth set of sprints he had you all go to the workout room and max out on squats. Your legs shook and nearly buckled under the heavy weights. And all he did was stand behind you and tell you how pathetic you looked, he shook his head and scoffed. 
  “We’re gonna stay here all day til you rack this up, don’t care if you fall on your ass— you’ll do it.” 
  His breath fanning your ear drove you mad. Spearmint gum and that rich boy cologne he always wore stung your nose as you grunted in defiance. 
  Through bared teeth and burning lungs you extend your legs to stand. 
  You wanted to kick him in the dick, make him shut the fuck up for once, but you bit your tongue. Driving the bar up and slamming it loud against the rack  Looking back at him with a glare in your eyes, you wouldn’t let a single tear wet your eyes, never giving him the satisfaction. 
  He looked you up and down quickly, but his eyes felt like hot pokers dragging against your skin. Before he crossed over to another one of your teammates to add more weight to their bar, he dipped his head, and muttered just above a whisper, “Thatta girl.” 
  -
  You didn’t know much about him but what you did know was that he kept to himself. 
  Coach Harrington was only a few years older than you, he had a small mustache that he more than likely grew to make himself look a little older than he was. 
  From what your suitemates had found out by spending hours scouring online archives from his hometown local newspaper to his social media footprint that didn’t exist— and even going as far to stalking his ex girlfriends Instagram— he had played college ball at Perdue for two years before blowing out his knee and ending a full ride scholarship and any rumored possibility of making it to the NBA. 
  From locker room gossip, you had learned that he drove a black Jeep Wagoneer, and lived in one of the newer apartments downtown. 
  The university had paid double what they had for the last coach's salary to get Harrington through the doors. The athletic director, Mr. Hopper, had picked him to coach because he was one of the best. But all he was to you was a fucking asshole. 
  The other girls had ooed and awed over him, the other teams coaches flirted with him before the games, trying to get his number and find out more about the brooding coiffed hair hottie. And maybe you would feel different about him if he wasn’t such a raging prick. 
  But he wouldn’t budge. 
  He didn’t get personal with anyone on the team, barely even talked to his assistant Dustin. Refusing to call anyone by anything other than their jersey number or their last name. 
  Practice lasted for three hours. And by the end of it his voice was hoarse and gruff. Having screamed practically during the entire time. 
  It wasn’t anything new. He was always high strung and losing his shit when it came to the girls, but mostly you bore the brunt of his anger. 
  He always used you as an example on what not to do. 
  “You’re doing it wrong 22,” he’d bellow, his voice echoing loud across the empty gym, his arms crossed tight across his chest, muscles popping under the strain of his tight gray shirt, “drive to the left then cut right, this isn’t fucking hard… do it again.” 
  You did as you were told, fighting through anger that seeped through your skin and riddled your face with shaking muscles of anger, a twitch to your eye.
  You were pissed and had had enough. Not only were you the youngest captain your school had ever seen, you were averaging triple doubles nearly every game. 
  Showing up to practice early to shoot free throws and leaving late to make sure all the equipment was put away. Spending weekends in the gym running drills or pushing weights instead of at the nearest rager popping pills and snorting coke like everyone else your age. 
  You put in the work and it showed, but he couldn’t see it. 
  It was equally frustrating and heartbreaking.
  When practice was finally through and all of the girls had either thrown up, left mid practice to go to the nurse or screamed that they were quitting, the locker room was an endless groan. Muscles were slicked over with the menthol burn of icy hot, and sore shoulders wrapped with bags of ice. Tape was torn from ankles and jammed fingers wadded up and tossed into a nearby waste bin. Sniffles were heard from some players and you stood in a sports bra and shorts when Coach Harrington entered the locker room. 
  “Don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be back here in 3 hours to run more Hellfire Sprints.”
  The girls groaned and slammed lockers, bitching under the breath. 
  “Hey!” Coach Harrington shouted, a thin vein bulging in his forehead, matching the ones in his arms, as he stood with his hands on his hips, the retro fit of his athletic pants swishing under his thick hands. “You want someone to bitch to? You can thank your captain.” 
  The room falls silent as all eyes land on you. And your breath hitches in your throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. 
  “Me?” You question, “what the hell did I do?” 
  “The question you should be asking yourself is what you didn’t do. How did you sleep last night knowing you blew that game for your teammates?” 
  A gasp escapes from your lips and you stare at your Air Forces to hide your pained expression. 
  “Now, the rest of you get recharged, be back here at 5 o’clock, I don’t want any excuses.” As the room starts to file out, through the heavy wood door,  Coach Harrington still stands in the middle of the room,  eyes burning holes  into your skull, “22 meet me in my office in 10, we need to discuss your position on this team.” He turned on his heel and headed through the doors, pushing them open with a straight arm and his pants swishing down the hallway, 
  You wait til everyone has gone, Mel giving you a slap on the shoulder, her skin unusually pale on her olive complexion under her charcoal braids, “good luck.” 
  Lifting your chin you nod and wave, throwing an oversized crew neck over your head and pushing your arms through the holes. Gym bag strewn over your shoulder and you pull your socks up a bit before making the long trek down to Coach Harrington’s office. 
  Contemplating what you would do when you walked through his office and he kicked you off the team, your long basketball career over because your coach couldn’t fucking stand you. 
  Never in all your life had you had a coach like him. He pushed you to the limits and started to make you despise the sport altogether. 
  And since you were about to be booted off the team, you didn’t have anything to lose. 
  The gold plate reading: Coach S. Harrington- Women’s Basketball on the large mahogany door nestled between the cream cinder block walls almost made your stomach lurch. He never asked anyone to come to his office, not even when Zoey got pregnant last semester and had to quit. 
  Nerves shook your fist as you knocked on his door, your other hand fumbling your car keys around the silver ring. 
  “Yeah.” He barked curtly, anything but friendly. 
  Turning the enormous brass knob, you keep your eyes to the floor when you step into his office. For being down an abandoned hallway, it was almost cozy. The walls were painted fire engine red to match your school's colors. His college degree was framed and hanging on one wall, along with signed pictures of Michael Jordan that you knew cost more than your car. 
The oak desk was neat with a MacBook and cup of pens and pencils. A markerboard hung the expanse of one wall covered in scribbled plays and code names. 
  It smelled like musky expensive leather and cologne and neatly stacked paper  Pictures from his glory days were on the shelf behind him, and he cleared his throat when you stared at him flying through the air towards a hoop. 
  His hair was messy, tufts of brown sticking up, like his fingers had been raking through it so many times out of frustration that the flexible gel wasn’t holding anymore. 
  He peers at his screen without making eye contact with you, fingers tapping noisily on the keys. 
“Do you hate basketball?” 
  His question has your head spinning.  And when you don’t answer right away he asks again. 
  “N-no,” you stutter, voice shaky and on the verge of screaming at his stupid question. 
  “Sure about that?” He seethes, still not looking up from his laptop as he clicks away furiously on the keyboard, “The way you played last night could have fooled me.” 
  Moon shapes indent your palm as you try to keep it together without ripping his head off like a praying mantis “It was a mistake.” 
  “We don’t make elementary mistakes,” he says slamming his laptop closed and peering over his desk at you through his thick eyebrows, “a fucking third grader could have ran that play better than you did.” 
  Your throat is dry and chalky as you try to stick up for yourself, being accustomed to keeping rage boiled hot in your belly, “I-I’m..” 
His torment continues, pointing around the room at the awards from the last few years, “We’re a nationally ranked team, and your performance last night was embarrassing, and pathetic!”
  A single tear threatens to slip down your cheek, and he notices the watery look in your eye, and licks his lip, but he keeps going. 
  “I expected more out of you, 22– you let your team down last night, and most importantly, me.”
  You burst before the dam does, annoyed and sick of his threats, sick of his constant nitpicking of every move yoj make, “That’s not anything new.”
  “Excuse me?”
  “You treat me like I’m a dog! It’s almost like you want me to quit, you don’t bitch at any of the other girls like you do to me, and I’m tired of it!” 
  “Watch your mouth.” He points, eyes squinted and nostrils flared.
  “No! I work my ass off for you, come in early and stay late. My game has improved and I’m top of the charts for scoring and rebounds, yet you fucking hound me and are constantly cutting me down.” 
  He doesn’t say anything so you keep going. 
  “Last night could have ended with us winning and you wouldn’t give a flying fuck, you’d still make us run your dumbass drills, you’d still wake up and find something wrong with what I do— stop taking your failed career out on me!” 
  he slams his fist into his desk and stands up quickly, the picture frames wiggle as his chair hits the shelf. He crosses the small office in one long legged step coming to stand before you as your back hits against the heavy door,  he points a thick finger into your face. 
  You struck the last fragile nerve he had like a guitar player busting a string playing a solo. Any reserve he had left was gone, his eyes clouded over into hue deeper than a dark forest. 
  His hot breath fans your cheek, spearmint intensely strong with each bite of his words.
  “Don’t you ever talk to me about my personal life again, you got that? You,” he surges pointing into your shoulder, “are supposed to be a leader for this team, and right now you’re acting like a spoiled fucking brat not getting her way.” 
  The tear you were holding back spills over over your lashes and, his eyes break from yours to watch its southward path on from your cheek to your chin. A low grown rumbles in his throat.
  “I’m not a brat!” you scream at him, wiping your cheek hastily,  “you’re crazy, and we all hate you!” 
  His eyes stay moody and dark as he peers into your face down the slope of his nose, “really?” he says no louder than a whisper, “you hate me huh?”
  A thick hand wraps around your ponytail, and his body crowds yours into the door, back flat as it would go despite your curves. 
  Your breathing is erratic, bubbled into your throat with anxiety like you might throw up. His face is so close to yours you can see the definition of each of his eyelashes, and tiny flecks of gold in his eyes. 
  He’s staring at you with pure hatred, like he’d kill you if ever given the chance, and you’re almost embarrassed by the way your pussy clenches.
  “Say it again,” he murmurs, mouth barely moving and barely an inch from your own, his eyes only leave yours when your mouth opens to speak. 
  “I fucking hate you, Coach Harring—”
  His mouth slams into yours with such force your teeth clack together and the taste of blood trickles on your tongue. Your back is pushed flush against the door, likely to bruise from the force alone. 
  His full weight is pressed against you, his taut body firm and rocked with muscles. He locks your hips in place with alarge hand, fingers gripping your skin beneath your sweater.
  Firm and taking what he wants without a second thought, his lips are intoxicating. The roughness of his mustache tickles your lip in an itching way, more than likely leaving a burn behind in his feverish take on your mouth. 
  His hair is soft in your grip, and you nearly roll your eyes thinking about his hair care routine, but you find yourself rolling your eyes in a different way when you feel his cock bulging through his pants.
  Thick and heavy against your thigh, if you had to take a guess it was probably as veiny as his forearms were. And you stifle a moan when it kicks up. 
  His teeth bite at your lip and you yelp in pain, a noise that only drives him further into you, his hand tightens around your ponytail and yanks your neck further back so your head hits the door. 
  His shirt is fisted into your hand and you pull him further into you, sliding your tongue against his—sharing the taste of your fresh blood and his spearmint spit. 
  You scratch at his scalp with your dull nails and he fights back a melty groan. 
  “Such a fucking brat.” He breathes, as his fingers work the hem of your crew neck up, his fingers feel like lightening strikes against your body, and you welcome the dulled pain with a moan, “Need’t be put in your place.” 
  You whine when your sweater hits the ground with a soft thud and the cool air of his office ices over your still sweat slicked skin. His lips suck deep bruises into your throat, and his fingers dip into the waistband of your shorts, shoving them down in a hurry. 
  Expert fingers find your clit and he smirks when you whine for more, “thought you hated me?”
  You pout when his fingers come to a halt, eyes flicking open to see his confidence boasting on his stupid perfect face.
  “But this pretty little pussy doesn’t, does she baby?” 
  “Coach,” you moan out for him, his title on your lips in a sloppy whine make him harder than he’s ever been. 
  His thick fingers dip into the silky warm folds of your pink pussy. The combined noises you make, echo loud in his office. “Fuck baby,” he groans, his fingers sucking up into your gummy walls, he pops them out licks the juicy wetness of your arousal from them. “So wet honey, all this for me?” 
  Your fingers pinch at his sweats and pull them down in a swift motion along with his boxer briefs. He’s hung more than you thought. Making any guy you had been with previous look like something in a funny museum.
   His abs are sculpted and dip into a hard cut v, leading to a small patch of trimmed hair, housing the longest, thickest dick you’ve ever come across. 
  And you were right it was veiny. 
  The pretty mushroom pinked head was presenting a pearl of pre cum, so pretty it could make an angel cry. When you try to lower yourself to wrap your lips around him, he stops you. 
  “Not today,” he groans, fisting his hearty length, your eyes going dumb watching him, brain numb and drunk on him already, “not enough time.” 
  He wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you up against the wall, your bare back stings against the rough cement wall, he’s grabby, his lips pressing heat into your neck, his moan tingling your skin. 
  With a quick shift of his hips, your tight pussy sheaths his thick cock. And you scream out. 
  “Shit, fuck honey..” he’s fighting to keep composure as you are practically lifeless against the wall. His thrusts are filled with purpose and want as your ass is slammed harder and harder into the wall, clapping along like a round of applause, ankles crossed around his lower back at your Nike socks and the laces of your air forces bouncing in tandem. 
  He’s sweaty and grunting, with each pull from his cock brings more deep and pretty noises from you and he sucks into your shoulder again, knowing damn well his mark will last for weeks. One you’d have to explain to your friends and your teammates, and your boyfriend. 
  He didn’t know if you had a boyfriend and frankly he didn’t give a fuck, you were his for the time being and he would do as he pleased. 
  He was fucking you stupid and you were letting him, holding his neck in a lazy grip as he hammered into you, and when you tightened around him, he knew you were close, “look at me,” he begs of you, “you’re gonna come for me, yeah?” 
  “Yes,” you choke out, barely registering what he’s saying from the tight coiled pleasure of your orgasm ready to fire away. 
  His cock drags slow as your eyes connect, yours lazily spilling over with fresh tears, “who’s makin’ you feel this good, 22? Huh?” 
  “Y-you Coach!” you whine, nearly ready to crumble under his thick fingers when he rubs your sensitive clit. 
  “What was that baby girl?,” he croaked, holding back his release, “couldn’t hear you.” 
  “Oh fuck oh fuck mmm you, Coach Harrington! Fuck I’m coming!”
  Your orgasm breaks and it’s like a dam has busted, his dick is soaked by your arousal and he’s losing any bit of cockiness he had left when your face smooths and your lips blur a pretty round ‘o’  as you hum and your body tingles. 
  He follows not far behind you, muttering sentences that make no sense, drunk on your pussy as he paints your walls with his release. 
  You’ve never seen him look hotter, his forehead rests on your chest as you both catch your breath. For a split second he shows you a sly smirk, like he actually was enjoying himself.
  “you might just be my fav-”
  before he can finish, before he can pull out and offer you a towel, a loud knock scared everything in him stiff. Besides his cock that went instantly soft..  his blood ran cold.  
  His face stares at the door, and you stare at him, your grip on his shoulders tighten.
  “Steve?”  
*let me know your thoughts on this, should there be a part 2? I love hearing your comments ♥️
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steve harringtons tummy. smutty edition. please excuse me being horny on main 😔
youre in bed and he mentioned the other day that before you were dating, he would jack off to your pictures and now you cant stop thinking about it. him in his bed fisting his cock till he cums all over his stomach. moaning your name and throwing his head back while his cheeks turn pink.
so you ask him to touch himself in front of you, pulling him out of his sweatpants. and stroking his pretty cock till its hard as a rock 🤍. kissing his neck while he whimpers and fucks himself. moaning your name over and over again until he takes your tits out and finally cums on his tummy. fisting his pretty cock while it spurts ropes of cum all over him <3 and then pulling your pretty pink nightgown off of you and sucking on your tits and making out with your pussy. hes so steve.
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