#steve x innocent!reader

[violettaskies]

Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 

No. 

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 

What a dream. 

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong. 

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 

You were about to become the death of him tonight. 

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 

“Y-yes, I would be.” 

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 

“More, please.” 

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong. 

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 

Fuck. 

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 

“Let's use a little, Steve.” 

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 

Just the tip — you said the words before. 

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 

“Feels nice.”  

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 

And he did. 

Good god, he did. 

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 

“Another day?” 

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 

-:-:-:-:-

[prettybabyyyy]

He pulls the lips of your pussy apart so he can lick his own cum out of your dripping hole. He spends what feels like hours down there thoroughly cleaning you up and taking advantage of the opportunity to get another taste of your wetness. When he softly moans against your pussy, it causes you to buck your hips into his face, grinding your cunt against his mouth.

He knows just what you need so he pushes his face into you until he’s practically inhaling and devouring both of your fluids. You never thought you’d get turned on from your boyfriend eating his cum out of you, but as his tongue unexpectedly prods your entrance and brushes past your g spot, your third orgasm of the night starts fast approaching and you cum with a scream of his name that takes all the air out of your lungs.

“Can’t let any go to waste” he grins, looking up at you after taking his mouth off your pussy, chin covered in the deliciously salty mixture of his cum and yours. You pull him in for a kiss, smushing your lips together so you can really taste both of your releases.

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Just Like Him

Kinktober 2024 - Day 23

Pairing: Dark!Steve Kemp x Innocent!Fem!Reader

Kink: Anal Sex

Word Count: 1700+

Summary: You can't help but fall for Steve's charm and maybe, just maybe, he's falling for you too. (Or Steve loves you cause you're just like him)

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON, Dark themes, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrom, explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, anal sex, anal fingering, vaginal fingering, spit as lube, brief oral sex (f! receiving), allusions to multiple orgasms, messy sex, rough sex, d/s dynamics, biting, marking, obsession, slight degrading, slight breast play, choking kink, doggy style, nicknames (baby, little one, little slut)), sorta!soft!Steve, corrupted!reader

a/n: Here is Day 23! I know I'm a little late posting but my classes have been kicking my ass and I'm so freaking tired! I will do my best to post on time for the rest of this month!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

You’re not sure how long you had been imprisoned in Steve’s basement. All you know is that two women had come and gone from the cell next to yours. He had killed them and cut them up and sold them to the highest bidder. He hadn’t taken anything from you, though. He’s threatened to cut you up from time to time but he hadn’t tried to. You weren’t sure why he was so nice to you, in his own twisted way but he was nice. He brought you books, blankets, and sweet treats most of the times he came into your cell. While the other women were screaming when he went into their cell, you were giggling at some stupid joke he told you.

It was safe to say that you were, rather reluctantly, falling in love with the psycho. He was gentle when leading you to the bathroom for a shower, he respected your privacy, even if the cuffs stayed on, he gave you little freedoms. He treated you like glass even if he did smack you around if you pissed him off, but you rarely did that anymore. You found it nicer to just listen to him. 

You stared at the same landscape on the wall that was slowly becoming a part of your nightmares, but it was almost peaceful if you forgot where you were. You heard Steve’s heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and up to the cell next to yours and you could hear the sound of the plastic tray hitting the floor before the cell door closed, and he made his way over to your cell. You heard the telltale click of the lock and the door sliding open. 

Steve stepped into your cell with a garment bag and a tray of food, he locked eyes with you and gave you a dark grin. “Good morning, little one.” He hummed before setting the tray next to you, but your eyes stayed on the landscape. “I have a surprise for you.” He whispered and kneeled beside you and set the garment bag on the bed in front of you. 

You pulled your eyes away from the landscape to look him in the eyes, “Hm?” You hummed softly with a soft smile on your face. 

He chuckled at the sleepy look on your face, “I was thinking that me and you could have dinner tonight. I’ll make you something nice.” He smirked and caressed your cheek softly, you leaned into his palm, loving his kind touch. 

“Who will it be?” You asked already knowing that the dinner will have some form of meat that didn’t come from an animal. 

“Don’t know yet, but I can make you something else?” He offered and you smiled wider before shaking your head. 

“No.” You whispered looking down then up again, “I want to try it.”

He smirked wider and wrapped his hand around your throat and pulled you up to kiss your lips hungrily. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, “Naughty girl. I knew you were special.” He whispered and pecked your nose. “I’ll see you at dinner.” He smirked before leaving the cell. 

That night, you put on the red bell sleeved dress that he gave you. It cut up to your upper thigh and the sleeves billowed out like bat wings, and you wore small Mary Jane matching heels. Earlier that day, Steve had led you to the bathroom, and let you shower and shave before taking you back down to the cell. He left the cell unlocked but your cuffs were on and you walked up the stairs shakily. You followed the smell of food to find Steve in the kitchen, stirring a pot of sauce.

“Hello, little one.” Steve said with his back to you as you walked up to the counter and sat down on one of the bar stools. He had a charcuterie board set up with dried meats, assorted cheeses, crackers, and fruit. The board was in the shape of a heart, it was cute, a bit cheesy but you found it endearing. Steve walked away from the stove and over to you, he grabbed the chains from the floor and clipped them to the ‘D’ ring of your cuffs, locking them with a padlock. “Don’t want you running away.” He hummed and kissed your lips softly. 

You pulled away and looked up at him with doe eyes, “Don’t wanna run away.” You whispered as your fingers played with his sweater. “Want to stay with you.” 

He gave you a soft smile and caressed your cheek softly, “Good girl.” He whispered and pecked your lips before pulling away, “Eat some of the charcuterie, it’s delicious.” He smirked and grabbed a piece of cheese and meat and popped it into his mouth. 

You grabbed a cracker, a piece of cheese, and a piece of the dried meat. You stacked them on top of the cracker and ate it slowly, the meat melting on your tongue and the flavors exploding in your mouth, “Mm, that’s good.” You hummed and reached for another piece. 

Steve smirked at you as you ate some more of the meat and cheese, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it, little one.” He winked at you as you watched him move around the kitchen. 

After dinner, you and Steve were tipsy on wine and he led you to his bedroom. His lips on yours as he laid you down on the comforter, his strong hands gripping your waist and hips as he crawled on top of you. You moaned into his mouth, letting his tongue invade your mouth and your senses. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

His hands were slow as they undid your dress and pulled it from your body, leaving you in your panties. Your nipples peaked as they were exposed to the cool air of the room. He smirked and placed his hands on your breasts, his palms massaging your sensitive nipple. “So pretty like this, little one.” He hummed, plucking your nipples with each hand, pinching and tugging them softly, making soft gasps and moans leave your lips. You looked away as your cheeks flushed a deep pink, making him chuckle. “So shy. Keep your eyes on me, baby.” He whispered as his fingers continued their movements on your puffy nipples. 

You looked at him as he played with your body, how he wanted. You felt your cunt soaking your white panties, leaving a viable wet spot on the gusset of the fabric. You whined as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking softly and leaving a teasing bite on the bud. He pulled back and shucked his sweater over his head and tossed it away, revealing his bare chest to your hungry eyes. 

You moved your hands up to caress his taut abs and up to his pecs, “You’re so handsome.” You said softly as your eyes followed his happy trail to the hem of his pants. “Wanna see all of you, Steve.” 

He smirked and leaned down and kissed your lips as he undid his slacks and shimmed out of them leaving him in his boxers. “Sweet girl.” He purred and kissed down your neck softly. You moaned as he sucked and bit on your sensitive neck, biting hard enough to break the skin.

You hissed and pulled away and pressed a hand against your bleeding neck. “S-Steve?” You stuttered looking up at him, and he gave you a bloody smirk. 

“Just wanted a taste of you.” He smirked before kissing your lips again, the metallic taste staining your tastebuds. “Just relax, baby.” He hummed and rolled you over onto your stomach. He pulled your hips up to his face and he yanked your panties off, revealing your soaked core and your tight back hole to him. 

He lapped through your folds, moaning at your taste on his tongue. His hands spreading you further apart for him as he nuzzled deeper in your cunt. He moved up to lap at your tight hole softly, prodding it with the tip of his tongue. 

You were startled and tried to pull away, “W-what are you doing?” You asked in a nervous voice, as his hands kept you against his face. 

“Mm. Just getting you ready.” He hummed lapping at your tight hole, getting it sloppy for him before he pulled his face away and dragged his finger through your wetness, then slowly pushed it into your hole. You gasped at the sensation, never having anything in your back hole. “Sh, sh. I’ll take care of you.” He whispered as his thumb circled your clit steadily as he worked his finger deeper into you. 

He worked three fingers into your hole, making you cum once with the stimulation from his fingers stroking your walls and his thumb rubbing at your clit. You were a whimpering mess by the time he lubed up his cock and was working his thick length into your stretched hole. You cried out at the mix of pleasure and pain coursing through you as his cock manipulated and your walls to fit his cock deep in you. His thumb never let up on your clit, rubbing fast and tight circles on your sensitive bud. 

Your hole squeezed his cock as he started thrusting shallowly in and out of your ass, while he slipped two fingers into your dripping cunt. His free hand gripped your ass cheek, spreading it open so he could watch his cock, slide in and out of your hole. You gripped the pillows in front of you tight, moaning and whining with each thrust, him bullying his cock deeper into you. He spanked your asscheek once, then twice, and over and over until your ass was red and tingling with pain. The pain turned into pleasure as he sped up his thrusts.

His fingers curled up in your cunt, stroking your sweet spot slowly, making your thighs shake uncontrollably. You whined as tears fell from your eyes and down your cheeks, leaving wet tracks on your cheeks. He smirked and used his free hand to wrap around your neck and yank you up. The new position sliding him deeper into your asshole. 

“Mm, this is so much better than eating you. Fuck, you’re perfect for this. My little girl. So innocent.” He groaned as your walls gripped him perfectly. “But you’re not that innocent, you’re just like me.” He smirked and lapped at the bite on your neck as he squeezed your windpipe, cutting off your air flow, making you feel dizzy. “Perfect little slut.” He murmured against your skin. “I’m not letting you go anywhere. You’re mine.”

[thegoodwitchsworld]

SPECIAL CLASSES

Part 1

Pairing -Dark!Professor Steve Rogers x reader, Peter parker x reader

Warnings- heavy age gap, early 20s and early 40s, dub!con, non!con, dark themes.

"So that's it for today class, I hope you guys remember there's another test next Tuesday."

The class groans collectively as your professor Steve announces yet another test. In the last one week itself, you have done so much classwork that it was nearly impossible to keep up with all of it.

And yet, you managed to do it.

You, the best student Steve has, always sitting on the first bench, never missing a single word he says, never being out of line-YOU managed all the extra coursework that Steve gave.

So it really comes as a surprise when he asks you to stay back after class.

"Coming, Y/N?" Natalie asks, picking up her laptop bag as she heads towards the door.

"She'll be joining you later, Ms Thompson. I'm afraid she and I have to talk", Steve says suddenly. Your hand stops midway in packing your own bag, and you turn around to face him, a confused expression on your face.

"Did I...do something wrong sir...?" You ask, your eyebrows scrunched up.

"Don't worry, Ms Y/L/N, it's nothing much. Just some extra stuff to discuss," Steve answers, his arms crossed over his chest as he stands against his desk with his legs crossed. His face has a serious expression.

You nod and wait as the last guy leaves the class, and you're left alone with your teacher. You wait quietly for him to speak first, and when he only stares at you, unblinking, you start to become nervous.

"So," he finally smiles. "Miss Y/l/n, do you have a boyfriend?"

He turns around, his back to you as he leans slightly on his desk.

You're confused as hell. What kind of question is this?

"Answer me, Y/n," Steve repeats. You don't see his face but his voice has hardened a little.

"I-y-yes Professor, I have one...," you manage to whisper.

"So I thought. "

He suddenly turns to you again and bends down in front of you, his palms gripping the sides of your table, his face inches away from yours as he stares at you, his jaw hard. You flinch from his sudden movement but recompose yourself.

"And where exactly, does this boyfriend of yours fit in your life, sweetheart?" He asks, venom dripping from his voice, so much that even you, who's completely clueless usually, can gauge it.

"Wh-what do you mean, professor?" You ask, trying very hard to not get intimidated by his sharp blue eyes, or the way they keep flicking down to your lips.

Steve straightens up slowly, never taking his eyes off you, before he drags a chair and sits down in front of you. He's so close. He shouldn't be so close, right? Or are you just overthinking?

His arms rest on your table.

"I MEAN," He drags the word, "that your boyfriend is not going to help your grades, sweetheart."

"My grades...?" You are genuinely confused now. "My grades seem to be fine, sir... I got As in all 4 tests this week..."

He smirks. "And do you think you deserved them?"

"I-"

But you don't really know what to say, so you stop. Steve looks again at your slightly parted lips.

He softly cups your cheek in his palm before swiping his thumb on your lip.

"Let him go, y/n." He speaks softly.

"Or your grades will not be enough for you to even stay in this college anymore."

Tears well up in your eyes immediately. Your education has always meant everything to you. Everything was always secondary to your grades. Yoh have worked so hard, and for it all to be taken away in a second? Like THis?

"That's not fair, s-sir", you start crying earnestly. "I worked really hard, I promise you Peter is not gonna hurt My grades I swear! Please don't fail me please I- just..."

You cover your face with your hands as you continue to cry and sniffle.

For a moment it's all so silent that you forget Steve is even there at all. So you naturally jump when he speaks again.

"You can save your grades, if you do what I tell you to do." He says.

You look up at him, your eyes wide and your nose red. Your mascara is running slightly.

"What do I have to do?" You ask, your head tilting slightly with the question.

Steve looks at you. He gets up from his chair and walks to the front of the classroom.

"Come here to me, sweetheart," he says.

You slowly get up and walk to him. Suddenly, he grabs your arm and moves you so that you're standing against his desk and he is facing you. His towering height makes you even more nervous, your heart painfully thumping in your chest. The next moment, his hand is at your waist, and he pulls you roughly against his chest. Your eyes widen, your hands coming up to rest on his hard chest to balance yourself. His mouth curves up in a dark, sinister smile.

"Now I'm sure we'll come to an agreement, won't we, sweetheart?"

[huffelpuff210]

Only Mine Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent Reader

Only Mine

Dark Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent Reader 

Warning: Dark Themes,Age Gap,  Forced relationship, drugging kidnapping, Grooming, Stalking, Non Con

Steve was bored and tired it’s always the same thing, Students come in here to achieve, but just end up flunking his class, He was a history professor, And most students come in here thinking it will be easy, since it’s History and end up disappointing him as usual, 

He knew he was being a little too harsh, and He knew that he was missing something in his life that’s why he was so miserable and so harsh on his students, but he knew that he had to find something and outlet or someone, someone to make him happy someone who wouldn’t disappoint him like everyone did. These girls today are just so self absorbed and whore around it’s nothing like before he got frozen in ice, after the serum, and now being retired from the avengers.

He was looking down at his papers grading them, when he saw something he hasn’t before, your name, you have every answer right, an ‘A’ 

Steve smirked knowing that someone was paying attention, You just transferred here from Colorado and this isn’t the first Ease you got an ‘A’ on either Steve has taken notice to you and you payed attention taking notes, watching closely. 

Steve had taken notice to you, and he had one more test for you and then he would make his decision. 

You had you bag hanging on your shoulder as you walked to class with your roommate you were just entering Professor Rogers class room, she was laughing, 

“It’s not funny.” You say

“I’m sorry I can’t help it.” Jessica says wiping the tears away, 

“Your a nineteen year old virgin.” She says 

“I told you I’m saving myself!” You yell

As you sit down 

“Okay class settle down.” Professor Rogers says as he starts handing everyone’s work, out your paper was and ‘A’ you were so glad, since you studied your ass off and went over all the notes you could to get a perfect score, You let out a breath of relief so happy that you got a great score,

Jessica slams her forehead on her desk You look over at her she holds up her paper that says ‘D-’ 

“Told you. You should have studied instead of going to bakers party.” you say 

“Oh shut it nerd!” She says 

You chuckle, After taking diligent notes and sitting through an hour lecture you and Jessica were leaving class chatting to one another little did you know Steve was following close behind you two, listening closely to your conversation, 

“God how do you always get ‘A’s’!?” Your friend complains 

“Because I study my butt off unlike you. Who decides to go party.” You say with a chuckle 

“So I like to have a bit of fun sue me why don’t you.” She says 

You laugh, 

“You’re too much of a good girl.” She complains 

“Well that’s what happens when you have a Military father.” You chuckle  Steve smirks, feeling a bit turned on. as the two of you walk

You two walk towards the coffee shop 

Steve knew right then and there that you were perfect for him that you were going to be his girl no matter what, He knew he had to be careful on how he did this, he also knew he had to get you away from your roommate she was a bad influence on you, He also knew that you would make the perfect wife and mother, That’s all Steve ever wanted was a perfect family with the perfect woman, 

Sure you were young but that’s what made it perfect, You could bare many children, you were a quick learner meaning he could train you, 

He smirked at the thought, He had been looking for so long not finding the perfect woman but now it seems that dream is just within grasp. 

“Do you want to go to a party tomorrow night before spring break?” Steve’s attention was caught by your friend asking you, 

You hesitate 

Steve knew you were a good girl, but if you accepted he knew it would be the perfect opportunity 

“I don’t know I still need to study.” You say 

“Oh come on live a little bit.” Your friend says

You sigh

“Fine, but only for a few minutes, I need to study for my next midterm.” You say 

“Yeah, Yeah, the good girl can’t have fun.” She says 

You chuckle grabbing your coffee as the two of you leave Steve smirks knowing he had to plan this just right that you were going to be his girl, Spring break will be in two days, meaning, This is perfect And he knew he had to prepare before tomorrow night.

[talaok]

A special arrangement

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

summary: You, Eddie and Steve make a very special arrangement

warnings: (boy get ready) smut | 4.7 k of porn without plot, innocent!reader, threesome, oral sex (men-yes plural- receiving), spanking, anal fingering (f receiving), double penetration, unprotected p in v sex, anal, choking, praising, a bit of degrading and objectifying and... a tad of daddy-kink.

a/n: This fic was inspired by this post by @mypoisonedvine (congratulations for 30 k, you're really one of the best out here)

it started off as a game, a silly way of having fun.

You were all drunk at one of Steve's parties and Eddie had gotten an idea.

One Steve was more than eager to agree on.

"so Stevie and I were thinking..." Eddie had murmured, closing the door to Steve's bedroom as the party continued downstairs "You look real good tonight sweetheart" he had whispered sultry, towering over you as one of his hands traced the cleavage of your dress "Doesn't she Harrington?"

"she sure does" He had nodded without missing a beat.

"thank you" you had mumbled shily, feeling like a defenseless bunny in front of two hungry wolves.

"And you know how much I like to have you all to myself, princess, I would have loved to get you up here all alone and fuck you dumb until you couldn't take it anymore..." he had said, quickly glancing at Steve by the door, as you cheeks flushed with blood.

Why was your boyfriend saying all of this in front of Steve? I mean he wasn't one to be shy about this sort of thing... but he had never been so blunt in front of other people.

"but Stevie and I had a better idea for tonight" he had murmured "It would be incredibly selfish of me to keep such a beauty all to myself, now, wouldn't it?" he had asked, a hungry smirk playing on his lips, "I think it's only right if I share once in a while, no?"

Your mouth had gaped open in surprise, "you mean..." you couldn't even find the words to finish the sentence.

"I mean you could take care of both of us like a good girl"  

You had swallowed nervously, your mouth suddenly dry.

"only if you want to y/n" Steve had spoken up, wanting you to be comfortable.

"of course she does," Eddie had interrupted, his hazel eyes suddenly darker than pitch "Ain't that right, sweetheart?"

And as you had looked between them, you couldn't help but feel excited about the prospect they were offering, so, of course, you had said:

"I do"

That had been a month ago now, and what happened that night happened many times again.

Eddie would call Steve over to his trailer when you hung out, and you'd always end up on your knees taking them one at a time as the air filled with their groans and growls.

It was always just blowjobs except for that time they had taken turns going down on you and had made you come so many times that you had to beg them to stop.

And of course, there were the kisses, you'd spend hours making out, the two of them passing you back and forth like a doll until you couldn't distinguish which one your lips were on anymore.

It was fun and more than a little hot. Your body felt on fire during each of your "sessions", and you could tell they both really enjoyed it too, especially Harrington. he had started to want to hang out way more often after you had made your special arrangement.

As for Eddie... hell Eddie loved it, you didn't expect something like this from him. He was always jealous and protective, but you could see it in the way he urged you to take care of Steve as he watched from the other side of the couch, that he was just as happy as his friend to be doing this.

However, the sharing only got to a point. Steve had never fucked you, or better, you suspected Eddie had never given him his approval.

He would wait for Steve to leave before taking care of you how he knew you desperately needed, or at times, when he couldn't wait, he'd tell Steve to keep watching tv as he took you to his room to fuck you into the mattress without even bothering to close the door. 

And that was how it had been, but today... today something was different.

Your parents were out of town so you had invited them to your house. You had cleaned and baked some brownies and waited patiently for them to arrive.

You were hesitant to admit it, but you spent most of your days fantasizing about the next time you were gonna see them. And it was hard not to touch yourself just before bed when your mind inevitably went back to one of your rendezvous.

It was your dirty secret, and god if you didn't love it.

A knock on the door brought you back to reality.

You quickly stood up from the couch and made your way to the entrance.

You stopped a moment to make sure you looked good in the mirror on your right and smoothed down your summer dress before finally opening the door.

"Hi sweetheart" Eddie greeted you, leaning on the door frame.

"Hi y/n" Steve smiled

"Hi," you shyly smiled too, feeling your knees weaken already "Come in, please" you gestured, closing the door behind them.

"smells good," Steve noticed.

"I made brownies" 

They briefly glanced at each other, something you didn't catch traveling between them, before their eyes came back to you.

"You did? That's sweet" Eddie cooed, getting in front of you.

You gulped, glimpsing between them "You wanna try them?"

"I'd love to, but I'm not really hungry for food now princess, and I don't think Stevie is either" he spoke "Are you?" he said, turning to Harrington.

"No, not really, "

"oh, ok" you murmured, trying to hide a faint disappointment.

"but I'll be happy to eat them later" Steve spoke again, noticing your reaction.

That made you feel better, and you responded with a big smile.

Eddie's fingers gently traced your cheek, and you melted right into his touch "I've missed you" he whispered, briefly kissing your lips.

"I've missed you too" you pouted

"no hey, don't look so sad, I'm here now... we're here" he reassured you.

You nodded, kissing him again, and after a few moments felt Steve's presence behind you.

"I-I missed you too Steve" you murmured shyly.

Eddie softly chuckled, as he turned you so you could face his friend "Did you now?" he mocked, moving some of your hair to kiss your neck.

"I-i did" 

Steve smiled sincerely "I've missed you too sweetheart" he promised, before he brought his lips to yours, slowly tasting you.

You whimpered softly, kissing him back as Eddie worked on your neck and let his hands travel to your ass.

"Should we go up to your room?" Eddie said, after some time

"y-yeah" you spoke, flustered.

"lead the way baby" he motioned, and you obeyed, starting up the stairs fully aware of where their eyes were glued to as they followed.

Steve closed the door behind him and you wasted no time kneeling in front of the bed.

"how eager, princess" Eddie teased, walking next to you with Steve.

"I'm sorry I just- I missed you" you spoke frantically

"no hey it's ok" he soothed "Don't worry," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Steve sat next to him, a soft bulge already visible in his pants.

You immediately reached for Eddie's zipper and made quick work of his pants, before granting Steve the same treatment.

You were about to take both of them in each hand when Eddie stopped you.

"Let us see those tits princess," he said, and you looked up at him hesitantly before slowly sliding your straps off your shoulders and rolling your dress down until your bra was fully in view.

"Don't be shy now, take it off" he said, his cock getting harder.

You followed his instruction and were rewarded with a satisfied sigh from both of them.

"You've got perfect tits sweetheart, touch them a little for me," he said.

"touch them?"

"yeah give us a little show baby"

You had to bite down a whine and let your hands reach your breasts, unhurriedly touching and groping them.

They were looking at you as if you were candy.

"fuck" Steve muttered,

"You like that?" Eddie asked

"Yeah man" he groaned, palming his manhood "fuckin-wanna cum on them"

You couldn't stop the moan fleeing your lips.

"Yeah, I think she'd like that too" Eddie said smugly "But not today princess" he explained "We've got other plans"

You stopped your movements "What?" you asked curiously 

"I'll explain later baby, don't worry, how 'bout you get us nice and ready now?" he eyed his dick

"yes please" You eagerly nodded, causing a smile to their lips.

You wasted no time grabbing Steve's cock into your hand and starting to gently stroke it as you kitty-licked Eddie's tip, making both men's breathing quicken.

You then let your tongue slowly taste his whole length, until finally, you took him into your mouth.

He groaned loudly as his hand fisted your hair, pulling it slightly.

"fuck baby" he growled "Yeah just like that- keep going" he moaned, as you took him deeper and deeper with each bob.

"stay down" he instructed, forcing your head down "Like that- yeah- choke on it, baby" he commanded, throwing his head back in pleasure as you gagged on his tip.

"fuck" he groaned, letting you go "You did good" he nodded as you gasped for air "Take care of Stevie now"

You immediately obliged, moving to your right to get in front of his spread legs.

You stroked him a bit before you took him in.

"shit" he gripped the sheets, as he observed the way you took him so fucking well, your eyes never leaving his.

"use-" he groaned "use your tits for me sweetheart" he urged, his voice strained.

You let his cock out of your mouth and stood up a bit more to get his dick in between the valley of your breasts.

Steve could have come right there and then if it wasn't for what he knew was waiting for him.

"like this?" you asked innocently, tentatively stroking him with your tits.

He groaned "Yeah, just like that- god you're so good" he muttered, his hips thrusting a bit upwards.

You let your tongue out of your mouth so that you could lick his tip with each stroke, and Steve was fucking done for.

"shit" he swallowed "That's- that's perfect sweetheart," he said "fuck-please stop or I'm gonna cum"

You frowned, confused, and let him go "Don't you want to do that?"

"I do" he chuckled "but not like this"

Once again, you were perplexed.

"c'mere" Eddie ordered, sliding to his left and patting the space between him and Steve.

You sat down, suddenly very aware of your naked chest. It was probably because Steve couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"You don't want me to make you come?" you asked naively.

"Of course I do baby," your boyfriend said softly, placing his hand on your thigh "But I was thinking something different for today" he kissed your cheek, putting a lock of your hair behind your ear "You know how I always make you feel good when Stevie's gone?"

"mh-mh" you nodded, your face getting red

"well I was thinking maybe this time he could help out too" 

"y-you mean...he's gonna make me feel good instead of you?" you asked, a bit sad at the prospect.

I mean you wanted Steve, but you wanted Eddie too.

He grinned amusedly "No baby, don't worry" he spoke softly "Not instead... we're gonna do that together"

Now you were confused

"h-how?"

His fingers traced your jaw, admiring your pretty face "You remember what we tried that one time? When I made you feel good in a new way?"

You searched your memory, Eddie had made you feel good in so many different ways that it was tough remembering all of them.

"Uhm- I don't- which time?" you asked, shooting Steve an embarrassed glance.

He bent down to kiss your cheek before bringing his mouth to your ear "When I used your other pretty hole, princess" he murmured.

You squeezed your thighs in response, heat pooling between them. The reaction was noticed by both men with delight.

"You remember that?"

Of course you did.

You nodded.

"and would you like to try it again?" he asked "So that Stevie and I can take care of you at the same time... make you feel twice as good"

Your mouth gaped open as the realization hit.

"Is...How?-I" You had no idea what to say or how to say it.

"We're gonna be gentle baby, don't worry. We're gonna take care of you real good, right Steve?"

"Yeah sweetheart we'll go slow"

"at first at least" Eddie murmured, a malicious grin on him.

You glanced between them "It's-It's not gonna hurt is it?"

"Maybe just a little bit, but it's gonna feel great after, princess, don't you trust us?"

You swallowed thickly, feeling your panties drench at the images flashing before your eyes.

"I do," you promised

"That's our good girl" Eddie praised you, kissing you briefly before Steve's fingers urged you to turn towards him.

He hungrily crashed his lips with yours and wasted no time before sliding his tongue in your mouth, his hands desperately gripping your hair to keep you close.

Needless to say, Steve was ecstatic you had agreed.

Eddie's soft chuckle brought him back to reality, and he half-heartedly leaned away, letting you go.

"get up on the bed baby" Eddie spoke, getting up from it as Steve followed his lead.

you did as told, and looked at them expectantly as they watched you like starving predators.

"take off your dress" 

You did, remaining only in your little white panties.

Steve muttered something below his breath you didn't catch, and Eddie just licked his lips as he stared shamelessly.

Your boyfriend took his shirt off, and after snapping out of his trance, Steve did too.

"Open your legs for us princess" 

Your cheeks flushed as you obeyed, bending your legs and spreading your thighs.

"fuck" You could now hear Steve murmur.

Eddie gripped your thighs and forced you closer to the edge of the bed and a little squeak fled your mouth.

His digits slowly trailed to the fabric right against your center, and he hissed as he did "She's soaked"

"yeah?"

"yeah touch her"

Steve didn't need to be told twice.

He immediately brought a finger to the wet spot on your panties.

"shit man" he murmured, his eyes focused on where he was meeting your heat.

"I know, right?"

You wined, feeling frustrated.

"you're right sweet girl" Eddie cooed "We're gonna make you feel good now, don't worry," he said, "get on your hands and knees for us princess"

You complied immidately, feeling every nerve in your body going crazy.

"she's got a nice ass doesn't she?" Your boyfriend asked, as he stroked your cheeks 

"nice is an understatement" Steve chuckled, groping your ass "you're lucky you get to fuck it"

"I know I am" Eddie said, not giving you any warnings before spanking you.

A moan escaped your throat

"You like that?" Steve asked, mesmerized. His cock painfully hard.

You nodded, softly pushing your ass back in search of anything to give you a bit of relief.

Eddie's hand came down on your ass again "Use your words princess"

"I do! I love it"

again, another strike.

"what do you love?"

"fuck- I love it when you spank me, Eddie, I love it so much" you mumbled, already out of it.

"Can I try?" Steve couldn't help but ask.

Eddie nodded and Steve's hand immediately struck your ass.

"fuck" you whimpered "Please do it again" you begged and Steve was more than happy to comply.

Another bolt of pain mixed with pleasure spread through you, and you cried out as your head fell to the bed.

Your ass was already red and Steve was about to go again when Eddie spoke "Stop, or she'll come"

"she can come like this?" Steve's awe for you just kept growing

"she can come in lots of ways Stevie" He didn't elaborate "And you can try that one out another time, we've gotta get her ready now," he said, suddenly pulling your panties down.

The room's cold air contrasted with the warmness of your cunt.

"look at that" Eddie groaned "Such a pretty little hole," he said, his thumb gently playing with the entrance.

He passed his middle finger between your folds, collecting some of your juices, and then brought it up to your hole again.

You moaned softly as he slowly circled it, and had to gasp when he spit on it.

You closed your eyes, soaking in the feeling, when he abruptly pushed his finger in.

"ohgodohgodohgod" you whimpered, your heart starting to beat a mile per minute.

"That's good, baby, that's good, relax for me" he murmured, starting to slowly move it in and out of you. "wanna help me out here?" he asked Steve, who promptly brought his own finger to your hole.

"use her juices as lube" he instructed, and Steve obeyed before coming back up.

"Ok princess take a deep breath for me now" he said, and as you slowly inhaled, Harrington forced his own digit in.

You forgot what you were doing as a choked moan climbed up your throat.

"That's it, princess, doing so good" he murmured, gently caressing your ass as they both started to move their fingers.

"fuck" you whimpered, arching your back 

"feels good?"

"ye-yeah- god," you whined at the feeling. You could feel both of them inside of you and fuck if it didn't feel good.

"You ready for another one?" Eddie asked

"A-another one?" 

"Yeah, baby remember? if you gotta take the real thing you need to be ready, I don't want it to hurt"

You gulped "O-ok"

Steve kept moving as Eddie pushed his ring finger in too.

"Fuck!" you cried, gripping the sheets. This one hurt a little.

"good girl" he praised "Always so good for me," he said, moving his fingers in sync with Steve.

You bit your lower lip so forcefully you could taste blood.

"Isn't she, Harrington?"

"Y-yeah" Steve spoke, his voice hoarse and his eyes fixed on your abused hole "So so good, sweetheart"

Eddie chuckled a bit at Steve's blatant amazement but said nothing.

"I think she's ready," your cruel boyfriend said, cruelly removing his fingers from inside of you.

You wined loudly "No- please" You were feeling so good... you knew you were close.

"c'mon man, she wants to cum" Steve protested, still inside of you.

Eddie smirked, his eyes finding yours as you turned to him with a pleading pout "You really did a trick on him, princess, didn't you?" he winked, giving your ass a quick spank "But no, " he said, turning to Steve "she comes when I say so"

"Fine," Steve said, pulling his finger out of you.

You looked at your boyfriend desperately and he shook his head, a smug smile on his lips "Don't give me that look, princess, you get to ride Stevie here now" he said, patting his shoulder.

"Really?" your eyes sparked up

"Sure do," he said, giving Steve a nod.

"You like to ride?" Steve asked, getting on the bed

You bit your lip, a bit embarrassed "I do" you said, straddling his lap once he laid on the bed "but Eddie never lets me"

You heard him chuckle somewhere behind you.

"that's a shame, a girl like you...he should let you do whatever you want"

You softly giggled "Hear that baby?" you asked playfully, turning your head to look at him.

"what can I say? I'm a man who likes to be in control" he grinned, bending down to give you a quick kiss "Now go on, show me how good you are" he urged, leaning away.

You turned to Steve again, an excited smile tugging at your lips.

His hands found your waist, and you bent down to give him a quick kiss that didn't satisfy him, as he grabbed your face and forced it to his again, kissing you deeply.

You whimpered softly, and your hips started moving on their own, immidately finding his hard cock.

"go on, sugar, show your boyfriend what he's missing," he said, and you wasted no time complying.

You took his manhood in your hand and slowly guided it to your entrance, squeezing your eyes shut as you sank onto it.

You moaned loudly, and he groaned as his grip on your waist tightened.

"fuck sweetheart" he muttered

"she's tight, isn't she?"

"fuck" Steve had to laugh a little "tight? She's got the tightest pussy I've ever felt, man"

You were still lost in the pleasure of having him inside of you so completely, especially with all the teasing, that you didn't hear any of that, not until Steve spoke again, his thumb softly stroking the part of your belly he could reach.

"go on y/n, bounce on it for me"

You opened up your eyes, placing one of your hands on his chest for leverage before raising your hips until only the tip was inside just to sink back down.

Steve groaned even louder, while your moan got an octave higher.

"It's so big" you whimpered, replicating your movement.

"yeah? You're not used to it?" Steve joked, one of his hands traveling upwards to grope your tits.

"oh she's used to it alright" Eddie intervened, making Steve chuckle.

"you can't take it?" Harrington mocked " 's too big for you?" he cooed, as you kept bouncing on him.

"n-no I can" you immediately moaned "It just- feels so good" you cried, picking up your pace

"yeah? Who feels so good?"

"you Steve, you feel so so good- god!" you groaned as he raised his hips to meet your bounce, hitting you deeper than before. 

"That's right sweetheart- that's right" he murmured, both his hands now playing with your nipples.

You didn't hear the bed creak as Eddie climbed on it, but when you felt his hands on you, you could only whine.

He immediately went for your neck, sucking a quick hickey underneath your ear just to make you all the more desperate, before one of his hands urged you to bend down a little and you obliged.

"you're gonna take it all like a good girl aren't you?" he asked, positioning his cock at your other entrance.

"yes- I am Eddie I promise" you whimpered, still moving on Steve's dick.

"good 'cause I'm not stopping princess,"

you could only moan at those words, just to be interrupted by his tip entering you.

"oh god" you whimpered

"I know angel. just take it, I know you can" he murmured, going deeper, and finding it hard not to groan at how tight you were.

"it's-it's too big" you cried, tears pricking your eyes.

"no it's not, c'mon, be a good girl, relax a little" he whispered, pushing inside again.

"Eddie" you moaned, starting to get used to the feeling.

"that's it, baby, that's a good girl, you're almost there" he praised, before fully thrusting into you with a loud groan.

You moaned so loud the whole neighborhood probably heard.

You could feel both of them, both their big cocks stretching you.

"good girl" Eddie spanked you "I knew you could take it"

You gasped but had no time to say anything before they both started thrusting into you, leaving you completely speechless.

You could only grip Steve's shoulder as you ascended to another universe.

This was nothing like anything you'd ever felt. This was everything and more all at once, and if you weren't an atheist you probably would have guessed this is what heaven fucking felt like.

"fuck you're so tight princess" Eddie groaned "I'm not gonna last long" he spoke, his breathing ragged.

Your hearing was muffled from the pleasure like you were underwater.

Eddie chuckled, seeing your state "You like this too much princess?" he mocked "You like being our little slut too much? You can't even speak?"

Your mouth was open but nothing came out of it except for desperate little whines.

"is that it?" he asked, one of his hands coming down on your asscheek and making you yelp "Answer me, angel"

"y-yeah," you cried "I like it too much Eddie- it feels so good"

He grinned smugly "I'm glad baby" he growled "c'mere," he said, putting his arm around your chest and forcing your back against his chest as he fucked you even harder.

Steve in the meantime was mesmerized by the view, trying really hard to last.

Eddie hungrily sucked and kissed your neck as one of his hands traveled to your clit.

"Daddy!" you moaned, when he circled it, heightening your pleasure even more

"fuck dude" Steve could only react by groaning lowly. 

"I know right?" Eddie raised his brows cockily at him before focusing on you again "Who's your daddy princess, tell me" he spoke, not slowing his pace in the least and continuing to massage your clit.

"you- Eds you're my daddy" you cried "Only you"

"that's right" he suddenly bit your earlobe before letting you go "That's fucking right"

You fell onto Steve again, and he immediately brought your mouth to his. Leaving a hot, messy kiss on it.

Your orgasm was growing in your belly like a volcano ready to go off at any moment, and you were in complete bliss, just a doll at the mercy of the two men inside of you.

"fuck-I'm gonna come soon sweetheart" Steve murmured, "where do you want it?"

You didn't answer, you couldn't, you were right there yourself, and your brain had stopped functioning a while ago.

"where sweetheart?" he asked again

Eddie let out a small laugh "You're too fucked out baby?"

And when you didn't answer that, Eddie's amusement only grew "I guess that's as good as an answer" he said "Try choking her, that always seems to wake her up"

"choking?" Steve asked, deserving a fucking prize for not having busted his load right there and then at the proposal.

"yeah Steve"

"you sure?"

"What, you think she doesn't like that?" Eddie chuckled "She fucking loves it, 'gets real tight when you do it too"

Steve complied, one of his hands slowly sneaking up to grip your neck, choking you.

You let out an animalistic moan, and Steve immediately understood what Eddie was saying about you getting tight.

"c'mon baby tell Stevie where you want his load" Eddie commanded.

You opened your eyes, biting your lip to keep yourself grounded in reality.

"tell me sugar"

"I-inside Steve-fuck, I want to feel both of you come deep inside of me please" You wined loudly, making Steve mutter something under his breath.

The hand around your throat was the last straw and the bubble in your belly was ready to burst.

You couldn't do it anymore, you needed to come.

"Can I come?" you begged "Please daddy can I come?"

"You think you deserve to?"

"I do-I do please, please!"

"I think you do too, come for us baby, come all over our cocks" 

And just like that, the volcano in your belly erupted completely, a hot wave of pure bliss washing over you as you moaned so loud you doubted you would have any voice left.

The feeling of your pretty walls squeezing around them caused a domino reaction, and they both came groaning loudly just after you, filling you up to the fucking brim.

"fuck" Steve could only whisper once you had all come down your high.

"you did real good sweetheart" Eddie kissed your cheek, pulling out of you and helping you lie down on the bed.

The air filled with your heavy breaths and a delighted silence as you nestled between them, their arms keeping you close.

"So did you like that princess?" Eddie asked, and when you didn't answer their eyes fell down to you.

They both chuckled, watching your eyes peacefully closed.

"I think we wore her out," Steve said

"We'll wake her in a while for round two" Eddie smiled, gently stoking some hair out of your face "how 'bout those brownies now?"

[ghostlyfleur]

hiii idk if ur taking requests rn, but i’ve been thinking heavilyyy about steve harrington walking into his innocent!best friends room to find her fucking herself w her hairbrush and i feel like you’d do that story justice <3

18+ mdni. smut.

steve’s always thought about his sweet best friend in less than innocent scenarios, but actually seeing it happen? he couldn’t breathe, his cock was suffocating in his tight jeans, his palm started to sweat, and he couldn’t help but let a groan come out. quite loudly.

because there you were, his innocent angel, clearly trying to ease one of your hairbrushes into your wet cunt. steve immediately thought of how small the handle was compared to his cock, and how you’d whine and whimper and moan and grab at him once he started fucking you, ‘cause you were clearly struggling with the brush and steve couldn’t imagine how tight you’d be if that little thing was a challenge for you.

but your eyes snapped his way once he let his needy noise leave his lips, trying to understand if you were still only daydreaming about your best friend while you touched yourself and if he was really there, watching you, and your hands stopped with a surprised look on your face once you realized that yes, he was there. squeezing at his cock over his pants. your lips parted, still breathing heavily and eyes wide. steve could see you retreating into yourself, a second away from hiding from him, but your eyes dropped to the bulge in his pants and how big it looks, and you moaned. you fucking moaned and he couldn’t help but step in your bedroom, and like your brain finally caught up to you, you threw the brush to the floor and put a pillow over your lap, ready to apologize, “‘s okay, sweet girl. d’you want help with that? hm? lemme take care of my girl, yeah?”

you nodded.

♡

# steve harrington daydreams

[ninefuckingoneone-ssideblog]

The thing with liking war riddled men is it always comes with body worship

Like fuck baby he thinks he can just look all delectable with those scars, burns, holes and scabs of disfigured skin in full display and you'll not just want to run your hands around every single one of em. Taking your sweet time to pepper kisses to each and every part of him. Lips brushing against the very marks that prove he's here with you, alive.

You think you'll also get out some beautiful gasps and whimpers of your name, get to watch his pretty face scrunch up; hear breath hitching in his throat and see his eyes darken while you take your sweet time ravaging him with love

[neonovember]

Agape

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS:

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

a/n: never stopped thinking about this series! it has been over a year since like last update but I'm finally starting to fall back into it. this chapter is definitely a mouthful, and hopefully clear up some things about the reader. (and anyone still reading this story..thank you.)

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory@nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93​ @cynic-spirit @tengansbbg @angelcake33 @rrosesandtears @ninacutebee16 @mrsjerrysunborne @ilysmdovie12 @gold-3 @treasure444 @samsgirl93 @cynic-spirit @justlovelifeblog @spikeluv84 @smhnxdiii @tinkrogers @exposition-belongs-somewhere @wandamaximoff-simp 2

The soft rush of the diner during midday rings familiar to your bones. The squeak of your fading sneakers against the linoleum floors, the fast paced beats coming from Frank's speaker, the chatter and noise of patrons-the ring of the door that still quickens your heart. 

Things have changed however, when you had pushed through the back door into the small break room to shove your things in the rusting metal locker you feel it. 

There was less of the rushed movements and haggard sighs from your coworkers, the burnout that could only ever be outlined in your features when you live paycheck to paycheck. The air of the diner had been filled with the frustration of working under a boss who’s greed and incompetence left most new hires to leave the next day.

A boss who now is manning the register, boredom outlined through her features as she lists the specials on display in the glass of the diner shelves. And it seems this change has not come gradual, as Clementine rushes into the breakroom, her face twisted in glee.

“Oh you’re finally back!” She grins.

Clementine doesn't wait before wrapping her hands around your midsection, bringing you tight against her chest as she squeezes you enough to rattle the emptiness of your chest. 

The unexpected embrace leaves your arms limp at your sides that Clementine ignores, her warmth enough for the both of you.

It takes a moment after she pulls away, for you to blink back the bitter taste of the years that had gone by without a warmth like this and refocus your eyes on her. 

Her face is animated as she rambles, her words getting caught here in there, rushed and jumbled as they try and escape her throat all at once.

“Hey hey, Clem. slow down” You chuckle, shaking your head when she nods quickly and takes a breath.

“You saw it right?” Clementine says after catching her breathe

“Saw what?”

“Mare?”

“Oh. At the register huh? I thought I walked into the wrong restaurant. Some place with benefits and annual leave” You joke, as Clemetine shakes her head.

“You’ve missed out on a lot. She’s been..around more, and not in the usual domineering over your shoulder kind of way. A couple days ago something just shifted, she just shows up one day without a smoke in her mouth and wearing fuckin’ work safe boots and takes over Ellis at the counter” Clem eyes widen, the swear coming out a little clunky. Like the profanity was the only way to emphasize how unnatural it was.

And it was, Mare had never once stepped past the laminate flooring that separated the office and the stained yellowed concrete that outlined the entirety of the diner. Yet now she was falling back to tier one of food service? 

“What do you think made her suddenly start..workin’ again” You reply, straining your voice to sound curious.

You weren't stupid, you knew managers like Mae didn't suddenly develop altruism overnight. You grind your jaw in frustration when the familiar feeling of Steve nudges at your mind.

“Don’t know, maybe someone called HR or something? She seemed a little shaken up when she came in that day too” Clem shakes her head as if pushing away a thought.

“But I'm not one to kick a gift horse in the balls. It’s about time we got something good hm? After what we had to suffer with for months, I’m glad to say my belief in a higher power is restored once again” Clemeinte muses, tying her hair into a tight bun before sweeping back the flyaways.

“You have got to know that doesn’t sound right Clem. Besides, doesn't it feel..” You murmur, scratching at your elbow nervously. 

“What?”

“Like wrong? Something scared her enough to-”

“To actually work? To take care of the people she pays? How long have we wished for something like this..to actually be treated with some dignity and respect. In a city like this it's easy for people like us to just be thrown away and replaced. Someone out there cares, honey, actually cares. Can’t you see that?” Clem replies, a hopeful glint in her eyes as she looks towards you.

It takes all of you not to prod further, nodding with a thin smile at the way her body buzzes with the change. It’s different and it takes you a moment to recognize it for what it is, hope.  Clementine was good, too good for this city. She made peace with this abruptness the only way she could, it wasn’t her fault Steve had slunk his way into your life like peated sludge.

You wouldn't be the one to take that away from her.

You swallow the heavy weight of Steve in your mind. You’ve grown familiar-it was strange how he had not even existed to you weeks before, and now, now it felt his presence followed you everywhere.  

She was right, as much as you hated the feeling of being watched and looked over, Steve was the only one to genuinely make a difference in this place. Your mind twists with conflicting feelings of being grateful that Steve helped out Clem and your diner, and the uncomfortable all consuming presence he had.

She reaches for your hand, and you quell her awaiting gaze with a squeeze of it. Moving to dab a bit of lip balm onto your lips before moving past the swinging doors into the awaiting bustle of the diner.

The rush of orders, customers and Frank's loud barrelling voice shouting out profanities numbs your mind to the thoughts that haven't stopped bludgeoning your mind. The gut lurching nausea of your husband and Rumlow hadn't left though, slinking to the back, dormant and waiting.

You wait a lot these days. And it tears at you all the same.

You crave to forget, forget about what you had done, forget that you were never going to have a piece of a life that was yours. But you settle for the afternoon rush of school kids and construction workers who leave equal amounts of mess, noise and spillage as they leave.

You’re wiping down a table in the back corner of the diner, dipping your washcloth in the lukewarm murky water as you slide the cloth over condiment and soda stains. You press your elbow into it, humming gently as you give yourself a moment of reprieve, content to the detachment of service work. 

Crawling onto the diner couches, you reach from pieces of napkins and straw covers when you spot the stiff leather of new boots that haven’t yet been broken in. Mare waits for you to raise your head, moving from the seat to stand across from her.

When your eyes glide up to meet her gaze you let out a breath at the face looking back at you. Deep indented circles line her under eyes, her hair falling out of the rushed pigtail behind her, her lips are thin pulled into a permanent grimace. 

In all your time here, which wasn’t long by any measure, you had never seen her like this. Mirroring the same hunched exhaustion Clementine, Frank and you had.

But her eyes, her eyes twitch as they barely meet your own. Tiredness edged into the faded colour of them, but that isn’t what she comes to you with. Her eyes dart behind you, past the rows of booths to the frosted windows that blurred waves of foot traffic and the city above.

You knew that look-you lived it-the nervousness that pulls at your fingertips, the checking and the surveying. 

The wait

She was scared, the familiar paranoia is leaking from her into the linoleum floors as your gaze widens. Had Steve done that? Whispered into her ear in that voice of his, heady like molasses and terrifying.

“Mare?” You mumble, stepping forward to try and close the gap between you two. 

Her mouth opens and closes, tongue curved like she was about to say something, your eyes flicker to the shake in her hand that has you reaching for it. She flinches, pulling away as she straightens her back, the look of trepidation falls from her face as she swallows.

“I wouldn’t be asking you this if there was no one else. I know- I know I said that before, and thank you for coming in” She replies

You furrow your eyebrows, taken back by her apology, you felt the vibration of the strings that moved her mouth in her words.

Beginning to shake your head, the tip of Steve's name leaves your mouth before she shakes her head and you nod slowly.

“You need me to close up?” You reply instead

Her eyes brighten, nearly jumping at the request before she folds into herself again.

“You don’t have to, I can catch the later train” Mare begins before you let out a sound of disapproval.

“You’ve been here since opening, I got it.” You quickly fill 

Relief floods through her, eyebrows smoothing as her shoulders slump back.

“But..”

“I want to, I need the distraction. I’ll tell him that” You whisper the last part, hand on her arm. Her eyes fall to your fingers, but she doesn't pull away this time. Nodding softly before murmuring where the diner keys are and the last of the deliveries that needed to be put away.

The sun dips into the honeyes horizon as the hours tick by, you give one last nod to Mare as she hesitates before leaving through the back door. Frankie is in the back, sweeping up the last few potato peels and scraps off the greased floor.

Crouching as you place the last few specials into the white bleached box, you hear Frankie and Clem weave through the restaurant to find you. You turn as you catch them, wiping flakes of pastry from your fingers.

“Get home safe” You motion to the inky darkness that blanketed the city now.

“Don’t worry, Frankie’s walking me to the train” Clem replies, readjusting her bag on her shoulder as he grins beside her.

“Left you a sandwich in the back. Running around all day I know you haven't eaten” Frankie throws a thumb to the kitchen. Your stomach grumbles audibly at the mention, as you wince as he laughs.

You smile then, a real one. You let Clem press you into the second hug today, this one tighter than the last that has you letting your body fall into it.

“Don’t work too hard, some stains never come off” Clementine mumbles, and you blink at her words. If only she knew.

You wave your goodbyes, as they exit through the front doors, locking it up after them.

The list of all the things you needed to do before closing shop ring familiar in your mind. It provides a healthy distraction from the darkness outside as you sweep, mop and count the last of the change that clings back into the register.

You feel him before you hear the leisured foot falls of his shoes, no doubt shining brightly against the stained floors despite the yellow hue of the lights above. The hairs on your back stand, and you swallow forcibly when he taps against the door methodically.

You pause for a moment, before turning around from the safety deposit box the envelopes of the day’s cash was stored.

The office is already too small, cramped in it’s walls and the meek desk and chair pushed into it, but Steve swallows the space. You forget how large he is, until the wide expanse of his chest stretches across the threshold of the doorway. 

Blocking the light that floods from the hall, the hardened edge of his shoulder leans against the door frame as he watches you.

“How long have you been standing there” You let out after your eyes scan the familiar draped fine tailoring of his suit.

He considers you for a moment, the curled honey locs of his hair pushed back and falling out.

The air tinges with the faint smell of blood you recognise, but it fades quickly with heady smell of him.

“Long enough”

Your mind falls back, hadn’t you locked up? You were sure of it, right after Clem and Frankie had left.

Steve cocks his head

“Backdoor sweetheart. Somethin’ you should’ve made sure you keep locked” 

“To keep men like you out” You grunt out without thought, your eyes widen at your words. Steve’s mouth quirks to the side, seemingly entertained by your little misstep.

“Yes, to keep men like me out” Steve nods to your surprise, the voice darkening.

“What are you doing here?” You reply

“Taking you home. It’s late, too late” Steve mutters disapprovingly, eyes glancing towards the thick darkness that coated through the diner windows.

“I wanted to close up” You say suddenly, the thought of Mare facing the brunt of Steve pushing into your mind.

Steve looks back to you, “I’m sure you did. You’re too forgiving for your own good”

You shrug your shoulders, he was not wrong. But it felt like pulling teeth to be anything else, saying no felt like pushing against a brick wall. Have you always been like this? Or did your husband change you? 

You feel that it was something innate, your need to please everyone, to let things just happen to you. You were yoked to this detrimental good you carried the moment your soul was uttered into existence.

Steve's gaze flickers, and you link your fingers together at the realization of being watched. You spent so long blending into their background, unconsidered, minute. But with Steve it felt all he could do was watch you. 

Unrelenting and filtering everything else around you as it stuck to your turned face.

“Where are Sam and Bucky?” You say, after the silence fills the space between you two again.

“Out. Doing some work for me” Steve grunts, voice murky as he weaves through your answer diplomatically. Steve was good at giving you just enough information, keeping you in the dark and too deep simultaneously.

You collect your things from the locker room, swinging your bag across your chest while Steve follows you wordlessly. You take one quick sweep of the diner, before fishing out your keys and locking the back door. 

The hum of a car has you turning your neck into the alleyway behind the back door as you spot the outline of Steve's car that seems to blend into the pitch darkness. It matches him perfectly, dark, silent and more expensive than your entire life.

Steve is by the passenger side, hand gripping the curved window while he waits silently for you to get in. It’s different to when Bucky or Sam picks you up, and you feel the intensity of it as you slide into the leather seat. 

The car door closes, the air inside cut short as let out a shaky exhale. Watching Steve move to the driver side with ease. He barely spares you a glance, the engineering roaring to life as he pulls out of the Diner’s alleyway and into the city streets.

Your bag is sat on your lap, you grip and fiddle with the straps nervously as the flash of skyscrapers and traffic light illuminate the walls of the car. He slinks past traffic and main roads with ease, eyes almost glazed over like the city was etched into him, following the road ways to your apartment like he had been there countless times.

Unease prickles you as you realise he had, possibly even before you had known about him. Before he had strolled into the diner those weeks before, before you fell into his palm and the dizzying spiral.

You don’t feel the fear you had grown accustomed to with your husband however, it’s different, familiar in a way you can’t explain.

As you drive through the bridge that separated the boroughs, to the side of town that was darker and more decrepit than the city centre you think back to Bucky and all that he had confronted you with yesterday. 

Steve and his secrets, the life he lived now born from what was before, you bristle when you remember. 

Bucky's thinly veiled anger when he talked about your husband, about what he had done. To Steve. How could Steve be in a car with you, drive you home, vow to trust him when your own husband had obliterated any sense of love he had? 

He had killed her, took Steve’s fiance or what she was without thought, all for this world. To be granted power and control and he had found it, maybe that was Steve's endgame. The thought morphs before you can take hold of it, until it blares in your mind, hot in your ear.

Was this retribution? An eye for an eye? Would he remove you from your husband in the same quickness as she was?

You hear Steve call your name, eyebrows furrowed and it takes you a second to realise your hands are shaking, wrapped tight around your bag.

“Stop it”

You can barely think, swallow, you give a pitiful exhale as an answer.

“Whatever your thinkin’, don’t.”

“Steve” You plead, his knuckles whiten against the steering wheel as he slows. The streets are vacant, no sound of any traffic or wheels behind or infront of you.

“He killed her. He killed her” You whisper horrifyingly, hand coming up to cover your mouth.

Steve closes his eyes, you see his tongue press against the roof of his mouth. He opens them, the blue hues like glitter against the dark around him.

“Bucky told you”

You nod, turning your body in the passenger seat to face him. “How can you even agree to be around me knowing what my husband did? To- to your” You mumble, not knowing what to say, how to say it.

“It was a long time ago” Steve replies, his voice is soft. Careful.

Your eyebrows crease as you shake your head fervently.

“That matters?” You reply incredulously

“Time brings perspective. It changes things.” Steve hums

“Changes what you want. You don’t think I could have tracked him down and taken his head for what he had done?”

You swallow, Steve's eyes tracking the moment. No doubt

“Why didn’t you?”

“Revenge is something juvenile, it feels good in the moment and then you’re left with the real world. To survive in this life is to think ahead, that’s all it ever is. Thinking, and planning and waiting”

You knew that word intimately. Waiting.

You fall back onto the seat, 

“I think too much” You mumble out

Steve shakes his head “It saved your life”

“You know more than what I wanted you to, but that isn't your fault. You lived the way you could, that is something I cannot say for a lot of people. Surviving the way you did, most of my men wouldn't” 

Steve's words surprise you, the defined nature of them. He believed it, most people wouldn't call it survival. You don't forget Rumlow’s words, how they had sunk their way into you, even Sam and Bucky had that silent reservation. 

She was the one who married him, what did she expect?. 

“Who was she? To you. Bucky said..” You begin, words trailing off when Steves gaze hardens

“Bucky only knows what I tell him.” 

He scratches at his jaw, no doubt considering what information to leave out when he weaves through your question. 

“It was brash, rushed and quick. Thought we could elope and run to goddamn nowhere. A town where no one would know my last name.” Steve shakes his head. 

“Fucking foolish. I asked her to marry me without a ring and the clothes on my back after my father set me down. Told me it was time.” 

“Time?” You interject

“Time to be a made man. Time to take over what he left me with, what would be mine” 

“You didn’t love her?” You ask, careful with your words but it doesn’t hit Steve in the way you thought it would.

“There was love there, but, it was always something else. Retribution, revenge against my father. We both knew what it was and what it wasn’t. It was beyond us, just childish meddling to escape the inevitable. We both needed each other-”

“Like how you need me now?” You’re caught off guard by the bristle of your voice. You didn’t mean it, but it came out heated anyway.

Steve looks up at you with a cock of the head.

“Margaret wasn’t the love of my life”

Margaret. He said her name with the same detachment as kicking a rock off his path. 

“But they murdered her anyway. He murdered her anyway.”

“Yes he did”

There’s a flash of something that passes through Steve’s hard demeanour. Something close to guilt and sadness. You’re caught off guard by the emotion of it. Every assumption you form of him changes with the next word that comes out of his mouth. 

His eyes glaze, thoughtful, you see the smooth curves  on him that come out edged now as he speaks. He still held her death as a causation of him.

“Am I set to the same fate Steve? Am I going to be murdered by my revenged obsessed husband? By this world?”

There’s a tick that appears in Steve’s jaw at your comment, his eyes cast low.

“No, you aren’t. But I can’t promise that if you keep things from me-”

You can’t help the laugh that falls out of your mouth.

“You want honesty? Is that what this is, Steve? Are we going to pretend like we know each other” You reply, confused.

Steve's gaze hardens at that. You’re taken back by the mix of anger that flashes through his eyes. 

“I know there are things you don’t understand. There is so much you don’t know-”

“Then tell me!” You reply harshly. Steve sighs, grinding his jaw as he parks the car, the view of your apartment complex against the windshield.

“It’s better this way” Steve replies curtly, you don't wait for him to reach your side of the door as he gets out, pushing it open roughly as you stomp towards your apartment.

You were going to drown with everything you knew and everything you didn’t, couldn’t he see that?

Steve calls out to you roughly, but you ignore him. The elevator to your apartment is occupied so you twist to the staircase that leads to your floor. You hear him behind you, steps quiet but you can feel the warmth of him at your back.

You open your apartment door, shouldering in and attempting to slam it behind you. The shine of Steve’s shoe stops it, his broad shoulder side stepping into your home.

“You don’t close doors in my face” Steve replies, voice devoid of emotion as he shuts it behind him.

He was incredible, marching into your home like he owned it and chastising you.

You drop your bag on the counter of your small kitchenette, opening cupboards and rifling through to find the recognised brown stained glass. 

“Do you want one?” You bristle to Steve without looking up.

“No” 

You miss the way Steve's gaze hardens as he watches you, it's rough and uncontrolled, how you set down the glass and pour the liquor without thinking, itching for the burn to coat your throat and make you forget.

You down it quickly, reaching to pour yourself another greedily before Steve wraps his enormous hand around the neck of the bottle

“I think that's enough” Steve grunts, you try to reach for it and he shakes his head. Moving to your living room window and dropping the bottle down. It crashes, the sound vibrating through as a cat shrieks close by.

Your mouth hangs open as he appears in front of you again in a flash. You’re mad now.

“Oh fuck you! You lied to me Steve! You keep lying to me!”

“I never lied to you”

You ignore his reply in favour of the buzz humming anger you feel coursing through you.

“You lied to me after I thought you were the only thing- god-I was so goddamn stupid, how did I ever think”

“I did not lie to you” Steve repeats harsher, stepping closer

“What about Rumlow huh?”

“What about him?” Steve grunts

“He told me the truth! About what you want, why I’m here”

“And what did he say huh? Tell me, what do you think this is?” Steve’s eyes darken, crossing the threshold in two long strides to press close to you.

Your throat dries up as he grinds his jaw expectantly.

“He told me to put out. So that you could be done with me” You grunt, blinking back the bile and fear that day erupted in mind.

Steve's eyes blink, one twice, you see his hand twitch, furling and curling into a fist.

“He is nothing, a soldier for hire that would say and do what he wants without care. You don't know anything. You are just naive and-”

“You don't tell me anything!” You scream out frustratingly. You wanted to pull your hair out.

“You want to know? Huh, is that why you came to my office with all my men fucking ogling you?”

You shake your head dismissively “Fine. Yes, and you still give me nothing. You have to give me something, anything about why I’m here and why you need me-”

“You don’t know yourself!” Steve cuts you off, his loud booming voice taking up your entire apartment. Bouncing off the tattered carpet and the peeling walls. It stumps you into silence as your mind reels to catch up.

“…What?” You whisper, gone is the anger that had filled you before, all that’s left is the wait. Again. Waiting for him.

Steve shakes his head, muttering in a language you don’t quite understand. Wiping a hand down his face, his blonde hair tousled and out of place. 

“You have absolutely no idea about who you are, who you are in this life” Steve replies, eyes flickering to the skyline of the city that peeks through the buildings outside your apartment.

“Steve..what do you mean?” Your words creak out of your mouth without air

“You’re right, you have been lied to, doll. You have been lied to by that fucking husband, and your goddamn father-”

“My father? What-how do, what do you know about my father” You hadn't thought about your father in years. In moments only in grief and bitterness. He had died long before you could fit his outline into your mind.

Silence. 

It's different, what he says now. He jitters a little, mind jumping as he tries to clear his head. Steve never faltered, he never let human error, the misstep leak from him and stain the prisms he had created for himself. You had sunk your fingers deep, clutching at his ribs and his lungs and his goddamn vocal cords, and now the road he had taken you on crumbles underneath him.

“Steve” You plead, fingers taut into a fist. Fingers and vocal cords, tugging and pulling and retching him to speech.

“Your husband isn’t the one that tethers you to this life underneath our shoes, your father is. And whether or not you want to believe it, you were meant for this. It’s in your goddamn blood” Steve rasps, brushing against your chest as he leans in, his eyes trailing across your face.

“But, my-he's gone.” You shake your head furiously, search Steve's face to find the lie. You know already that he isn’t, blue eyes boring into yours. “My father he was-”

“He fell in love, and all good men always end up dead that way” Steve spits out bitterly.

“No, no Steve”

“Yes. Your grandfather carved his place in the underground. Parts of the city even I can’t reach, and it would have become your fathers too. So now it is yours. No matter how hard your father had tried to shield you away from it, this life has a way of making sure you receive what you are owed one way or another.”

Steves feels almost guilty at the wave of nausea that takes over you, this is why he didn’t want you to know. But you ran him ragged and god almighty it felt like you controlled his very mind.

He steps forward when your body pulls away from him, your fingers coming up to press into your temples and you shake and blink and look at him wide eyed.

His body is turned into you, fingers curling and uncurling like the very space between you both physically hurt him.

You don’t lean into him and he doesn't move further, finding yourself at stand still as the air seems to hang onto your shoulders.

You did not know your grandfather, catching only slivers of memories from your childhood about a man with shoes like Steve and cufflinks that came one afternoon, the day your father died and your world had splintered into two. 

You would not see him again, and you felt that was purposeful now.

This is what you had wanted, wasn’t it? To know? To rub out the waiting that filled your mind every passing day you were kept in the dark. 

Your life is no longer governed by linear time, just in moments. Moments like now, where the past was held by people you didn't even know a month ago, pieces and parts of you that should have been yours. Instead you find them spilling out onto the small tiled floor of your kitchenette.

Your father, your father. Your lip trembles when you try to piece him together, you feel his warmth in your mind, safe and all consuming but that is all that he left you with. You can’t picture his face, the slope of his neck, the lilt of his voice. But his blood runs through you now, and no matter how inconceivable it was, Steve was right, you knew what lineage meant in this world.

Steve had tried to run for it, your husband had killed for it, and you would be born into it in every timeline and universe. 

You had thought you were a victim in this world, pulled from the streets like a hostage and thrown into a room and clothes that did not fit you. A bystander brought into this life through matrimony rather than blood. 

You wondered why your husband had been so adamant in marrying you, you were plain, unassuming. It wasn’t love that guided him, no, you were a chess move. Another insurance to his power and kingdom that any heir of his would swallow up an even greater part of the world. 

He would take from you, your name, your father, the very birthright owed to you. 

An anger fills you as your past connects with your present, it's a strange thing. This small inking feeling of hunger that lines your insides. You welcome it, feel the tug of its vibration through your fingers as you think back to all the times you were pressed under your husband's thumb.

It’s dizzying, the way Steve's words have changed what you know about yourself so quickly. It’s the same hunger that clicks the confusion and displacement you had felt all these years into place.

And when you look up Steve's eyes seem to glint under the overhead light, like he knew. Knew the feeling, knew the change that occurred in your mind. His head falls to the side as he blinks, fists relaxed from their cramped curl.

You hadn’t planned on Steve, not in his unrelenting chase of you, not the way he had irrevocably changed your irate escape from your husband.

You remembered you had wanted to go up to Alaska, when you pulled together enough savings. Far enough away where the cold ate at anything worth trying to drag back, it was useless, you were tied, it was blood against snow.

This world would find you again and again and again until you grew familiar under the maelstrom.

“Thank you.” You don't need to continue, Steve understands it. 

You attempt to put away the now empty glass and other things left on your kitchen counter has your head spinning. You grip the wall with a grunt as your head spins, stomach twisting with alcohol and Steve's words.

“Why..why can’t I remember all this? My father, the past, anything” You grunt, frustration grinding away at you. 

Your memory is so hazy, even more when you try to piece together the past Steve tells you that belonged to you. It’s like an oil spill each time you sift through the hole in your mind where it should be.

Steve hardens in a blink, face going blank and eyes as dark as pitch when he tears his eyes away from you.

“You need to sleep.” Steve replies instead, and it’s not until he says it do you feel the lead of your limbs tug at you tiredly.

You open your mouth, and Steve eyes flicker back at you from his gaze towards your bedroom.

“Can..can you stay tonight? Please” You whisper the last part and Steve's eyes go half mast, his eyelashes brushing against the curve of his cheek.

“I wasn’t planning on leavin’” He grunts out, voice heady with something you want to wrap your fingers around.

You nod before moving silently through your home, Steve remaining against the kitchenette counter as you shred your clothes and change into something that wasn’t stained and greasy. When you poke your head out your bedroom door, Steve is already eyeing you.

“I’m afraid I don't think I can find anything for you to sleep in” You murmur, your face pulling into a frown at his suit that did not look easy to move in let alone sleep.

Steve shakes his head dismissively, “Don’t worry about it” and begins to shred his suit tie. He folds it over your chair neatly, and you can’t tear your eyes off of him as he turns from you and slowly unbuttons the cufflinks of shirt. The tinge of blood staining the collar is faded, a pinky grey as you recall its smell in the diner. 

You cut your eyes away when he begins to turn,

“I’ve got to make a phone call. I’ll be outside, okay?” Steve waits for you to nod, before slipping out of the apartment door. There's a small crack, and if you walk a bit closer you can probably make out his mumbles.

Steves turns his body from your apartment door, eyes straining down the poorly lit hallway of your apartment complex in silent scrutiny. 

While this side of town wasn’t half as bad as the neighborhood Steve has dealt with, it was still dicey. You hadn't noticed, or maybe you had and had grown accustomed, to the beady shadows that scurried at every corner and alleyway. 

It wasn’t safe for you here-it wasn't where you should have to live-but Steves reconciled only because of your fierce ownership of the one thing that was yours, entirely. 

You were strong, so goddamn resilient it stumped him at times. It causes him to grind his jaw and grip his phone too, swiping his tongue across his teeth as he remembers what your husband had done to you. That same hunger for blood shoots through his veins, the one that had been so hard to stave away when Rumlow had cornered you on the balcony. 

He wanted to paint the windows red with him then it itched his gums. And he would get the chance, he promised himself that at least, when you were back home and safe.

Flickering through the small contact list, Steve presses the familiar number of the long blond haired nordic. Thor picks up in two rings, the sound of booming music, and clinking bottles filtering through the receiver. It was nearly 2 am, and yet the other half of the Odinson charter seemed to buzz with bleary eyed glee.

“Rogers, didn’t think you would take up my invite but alas there is alcohol and enough women for us both”

“That’s not why I’m calling” Steve sighs, dealing with the Odinsons was tiring, and he only did it when it was necessary.

“I know. But you don’t usually call when you know I’m no longer talking business. And this late too” Thor replies, the sound of the nightclub slowing down as he moves to a more secluded area.

“Rumlow” Steve grunts

“He seems to be a bit of a problem huh?”

“He come to you?”

“Some of my men came back with a little surveillance. Last I heard he's gone AWOL though. Hasn’t been on the streets, or in my club for that matter.”

“Think he ran?” Steve muses, he called Thor to try and locate the mercenary, not find out he disappeared.

“Mmhm, that or.. he’s laying face down in the Hudson” Thor replies, Steve had felt the smile that pulls at his face through the phone. Thor had spent years as a butcher, and only when Loki had shown back up had their father passed on the mantle. That sort of hunger for removing bodies doesn't leave no matter what half brother comes back for a family reunion.

Thor agrees to keep an eye out, attempting to persuade Steve to come down for a second time before reconciling. In all the time they had known each other, Steve had never indulged in the debauchery their type of work had gifted them. It didn’t stop him from asking him every time however.

Your hands are wring together, twisting nervously when Steve slides through the crack in the door back into your apartment.

“I’ll make up the couch for you. I think I have some winter blankets somewhere in the hallway closet” You mumble before Steve's stern gaze stops you.

“No” 

Your eyebrows raise at the anger steeped into it, “Steve, I’m not letting you sleep on the rotting carpet”

“Why can't you just let yourself rest?” You try to shake the uneasy feeling that fills you with his words, feeling bare and self conscious as you wrap your hand around your stomach.

“I..” The words die in your throat and Steves swipes a hand down his face, sighing evenly as he moves to you in two long strides.

There is no amount of protest that can stop Steve from wrapping an arm under your knees, the other bringing you to the stiff planes of his chest. You can’t speak, stunned as he moves easily down the corridor, stealing a hesitant glance up to his face as he watches you. His face is still, muscles taught like the effort of holding himself back from-what- you don’t know burned through him.

He pauses at the threshold of your room, tracking his eyes across the strewn sheets of your bed.  

You didn’t know where to put your hands, your own proprioception off kilter as you stayed limp. Steves seems to know, his grip on your gentle and featherlike, like he knew he’s too big body crowded you. Muscle stretching and pulling against the sweetness of your belly and curved hip.

His chest caves in, ribs beneath the rippled muscle of his stomach inhaling the tinged air between you. Your mouth is slightly open, swallowing as you try to decipher what face Steve has unearthed for you now. The moment seems to stretch on, the one that sits between you, you don’t know why you latch onto it, wanting time to stretch on so you could have this. 

You don’t even know what-this-is but it startles you how familiar it rings. Like your body knew something your brain did not, the gap in your mind intercepted with the memory your body held.

Steve’s eyes fall to half mast, and they no longer have the dark pouring ink you had grown used to. It wasn't desire, no, it was something entirely different. An emotion you hadn’t been on the receiving end of in a long time. Something ripe and heavy and wanting.

“Come back with me. Please” It’s the first time Steve has begged for anything in years. Somehow you know this.

You watch his eyebrows twist, and you flutter your eyelids considering it. You gulp when you think about Rumlow and your husband knowing where you live and you nod. 

Steve's shoulders fall at your acceptance, and it's the last thing he shows you, closing up his mind and his thoughts while he pushes through the cracked space of your bedroom door before carefully placing you onto your bed.

You turn quickly, trying to find words, a quip, anything to still rapid beat of your heart. Steve is already gone before you can think of it, the door shut gently. You don’t hear his footfalls until a moment later, like he had stood by the door.

Sleep finds you before you can try to understand why.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

sour summer

a/n: this is a prequel to my story the murder at evergreen university. if you haven’t yet, then i highly recommend you to go read that one first. 

summary: “were you really always this pretty?”

warnings: Ari Levinson x reader, smut, prequel to this story (so beware that it does contain some spoilers), childhood friends to lovers, neighbours, family friend!Ari, cop!Ari, shy!reader, virgin!reader, slight age gap (in my head reader is 18 and ari is in his mid 20's), pining, cheating, kissing, loss of virginity, corruption kink, size kink, fingering, penetrative sex, protected sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, squirting, manhandling

word count: 6301

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist

After rifling through your closet from top to bottom, you finally gave up on the wild goose chase and stormed out of your room. 

“Hey mom?” you called out as you neared the kitchen, “have you seen my cardigan? The grey one with the-,” your whole body froze as you crossed the threshold and saw the unexpected figure leaning against the kitchen island, “oh my god…” 

“Y/n,” your mother smile, setting down her mug of amber tea, “look who stopped by for a visit,” gesturing to not only the accustomed visage of Mrs Levinson, who had always been more of an aunt to you than a next door neighbour with how tight-knit your families were, but more specifically focusing your attention on the other much more surprising visage that instantly made the sweater hunt become a task of the past. 

“Ari?” the warm sound of his name gushed out of you and spread over every inch of your form, causing goosebumps to erupt as your eyes raked across his brawny figure, “what are you doing here?” you darted to steal a hug, nearly tripping his bulky frame over in the process. 

Curiously, he too seemed taken aback by your appearance, almost as if he hadn’t quite recognised you till your mom had called you by your name. 

Completely stunned, it took a moment before his tree trunk-like arms hesitantly enclosed around your form, “Y/n?” you pulled back and took in his speechless expression, “um, hi,” he exhaled hazily, vibrant eyes dancing over every change that had appeared since you last saw each other. 

“You could have called first,” you light-heartedly shoved his broad chest, his warm palms still glued to your waist, “give a girl some warning.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled in return, “I didn’t know going home to visit my own parents required an official warning or something.”

“Sweetie,” your mom ripped your attention back to the task at hand, “I think you might have left that cardigan out back.”

“Oh, thanks!” you smiled before snatching up one of Ari’s hands and stealing him with you. His palm felt so big in yours, so warm and wide, engulfing yours completely. Dragging him along, you quickly became thankful that he couldn’t spot the flush the buzzing contact caused to erupt across your cheeks. “So,” you hesitantly let go as your toes touched the freshly cut blades of grass, “how have you been?”

Sucking in a much-needed breath, he answered, “I’ve been fine, I’ve been good.”

“Arrested a lot of criminals lately? Anything cool? A serial killer maybe?” you asked excitedly as your eyes scanned the garden, searching everywhere from the raised patio to the majestic oak in the bottom corner that accommodated a treehouse worthy of any child’s dream. 

“No, no,” he chortled, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “no serial killers, just everyday boring stuff, you know…”

A giddy squeal emitted from your lungs as you finally spotted the lightweight, crumbled, grey knit draped over one of the white chairs slotted to the oblong patio table.

“So, what about you, huh?” Ari asked as you sloppily tied the cardigan around your hips, the rays of sun kissing your exposed skin warmed you up enough not to need it out here. 

“Have I arrested any serial killers lately?” you jested. 

“No,” he smiled, “what’s new with you?”

“Well, my mom properly already told you,” a bubble of excitement tickled your belly at the news, “but I got into Evergreen University.”

“No way, really?” he exclaimed, both of you naturally shifting to continue the conversation seated. 

“Yeah, I start in a little under two months.”

“Is it still psychology that you wanna study or has that changed?” 

“No, it’s still that,” his recollection caused your smile to grow, though in that moment it also dawned on you how intensely he was staring, absorbing every micro change to your features, and heat began to rise in your cheeks, “what?”

Not halting his vision’s lavish journey, he hummed, “huh?”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?”

“No, it’s just-…” his words came out sounding spellbound, “did you always look like this?”

“Um…” you genuinely thought about it a moment, scrambling your brain for a logical answer, “I got a haircut about a month ago, maybe that’s it?” 

“No,” a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his piercing gaze carried on, “it’s definitely not that…”

Positively flustered, you awkwardly changed the subject, “so, uh, do you maybe wanna do something fun while you're home?” shifting in your seat as you proposed, “we could go to the beach or something, like we used to.”

“Sure, I’d love that,” he uttered genuinely.  

“Cool,” you gracelessly nodded.  

Your attention directed to the fluffy, sheep-like clouds got swept away as a figure appeared in the window opposing to the one in your bedroom. All of the air escaped your lungs as your eyes did a double take on the glistening visage closing the bathroom door behind him into his own childhood room. 

To say that you were pleased that your childhood crush had returned was an understatement, to say the least. 

Fresh out of the shower, there he emerged. White towel wrapped low around his hips, you could almost make out the water droplets still clinging to his brawny back as he yanked open a few drawers in his dresser in search of a crisp set of clothing. 

Cursing softly underneath your breath, your jaw hit the floor as he, with his back still turned to you, let the towel fall before stepping into a pair of black boxers. Rotating gently as he tugged the underwear up into place, you swore you saw just the hint of the part of him that made your centre throb most of all, though you had to lean on your overactive imagination to fill out the rest of the masterpiece. 

Dreamy head cocked to the side as you peep, it took you a second to realise that he was now facing the window, facing you. Not taking a moment to even check if he actually had spotted you, your knees instinctually buckled and sent you soaring down towards the floor, your hands just narrowly catching onto the windowsill for support. 

“Hey, honey?” the voice of your mother shot through the house to find your flushed ears, “can you give me a hand setting the table? The Levinsons will be over in a bit!”

“Y-yeah! Yeah!” you shakily replied, cautiously unfurling from the tense ball you had become underneath your window, “I’ll be right there!” 

Mild evening air rustling your hair, you dangled your sandal-clad feet over the edge of the slim deck area that wrapped around the western side of the treehouse. With a part of the fence safely slotted in between your thighs, your eyes were busy raking across the blushing skies that stretched over your neighbourhood as a voice from below suddenly caught your attention. 

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” your vision flickered down to spot Ari at the base, ready with one hand on the sturdy ladder, the other one dexterously balanced two frosty cones as he offered, “might I interest you in some ice cream?”

The sinful peepshow you had caught earlier that day had made casually sitting across from him at dinner rather overwhelming, both your families' presents not helping to make it less awkward. So as soon as you’d scarfed down your last bite, you excused yourself and ducked up into the treehouse, in hopes of a chance to finally cool down.

“How is that even a question?” you called down, watching as he carefully made his way up the tree. 

“Okay,” he exhaled as he settled in beside you, his warm leg ghosting against your own and causing goosebumps to erupt underneath your dress, “so, I’ve got one strawberry and one that’s-,” you didn’t need an introduction to deduct that the other one was exactly the rich chocolate one you always gravitated towards. Snatching it up with an eager squeal before he could even get the words out, he simply laughed, “oh, you’re just going right for it. I don’t know why I even bothered to offer you a choice,” watching as you hummed in delight, the frosty treat being just what you had wanted. Having a nibble at his own, he twisted his torso slightly and took in the familiar playground, “man… this place really hasn’t changed one bit.”

Peaking over your shoulder as well, you shrugged, “of course not,” his attention jaggedly returned to you as your tongue swiped out to lap up the coco droplets already melting down your hand, “this is our place, remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember,” he uttered distantly, a warm smile blooming on his lips at the memories of the favoured game back when he used to babysit you, “our little kingdom. What was the name of it again?”

“Uh, it was-, it was…” you scrambled your brain with no success, “I actually don’t remember anymore,” you squinted back at him, too wrapped up in your own thought to feel your ice cream melt further down your forearm, “I feel like it might have started with an E or something?” eyes growing wide, your body suddenly froze up as Ari’s forefinger unexpectedly reached out and swiped up the thawed treat, cleaning the milky streek and bringing it back up to his own lips. “D-do you want a taste?” you blinked, chest heaving as you hesitantly offered your flavour, his intense gaze melting you faster than the ice cream could even keep up with. 

Eyes locked on you, he uttered, “I still can’t believe you haven’t got yourself a boyfriend.”

“What?” you giggled breathily, the subject haven come up rather quickly after his yearned for return. 

“I mean, look at you,” you felt your palm grow clammy around the cold cone at his affectionate words, “were you really always this pretty?”

Your face surely resembling a tomato at this point, you averted your gaze, “I literally have ice cream all over myself.”

“Y/n, you’re-…” your eyes flickered back up to meet his dusky ones, “it’s just insane to me that there isn’t a line from here till Timbuktu of people trying to get with you.” 

Utterly stunned, you found yourself suddenly leaning in, letting the overwhelming high his compliments infused in you push you to press your lips against his own in a chased and timid kiss. Reeling back practically as soon as there was even a fraction of contact, a storm swiftly assaulted your mind.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you gasped, fighting the urge to scream at your own hormonal instincts getting the best of you, “please just forget that ever-” 

But your mortified apology was hastily cut short as you felt Ari’s free hand find the back of your head and lead it back towards him for a ravenous kiss. It felt like he had just flipped your world upside down, twisted everything you thought was wrong into the truth. In your eyes, there hadn’t ever been anyone but him. Not that you hadn’t tried after he moved away, you had, but no boy you stumbled upon could ever compare to how he made you feel. 

Or how he used to make you feel, because what was coursing through your body now was nothing like you’d ever felt. A kiss had never been so sweet, so hypnotic, so dangerous…

Sensing the cone of ice cream fall from your slackened grasp, the dull sound of it spattering against the grass below ceased to reach your ears. Like a man starved, Ari’s tongue met yours in a flowing dance, your arms timidly coming up to drape around his neck for support as he too tossed his pink ice cream without a care in the world. 

Arms around your form, wide palms nearly burning through the material of your thin dress, he then tipped the both of you to the side, sending you farther away from the edge and further inside the interior of the cosy treehouse. 

Even sprawled out on your sides, his lips never ceased, staying glued to yours in the heated make-out as if it was oxygen to him. Gripping you tight, his broad palms felt you up, causing your toes to curl in your sandals and a muffled moan to vibrate against his lips, a sound that only kindled his inner flame that much further.

In one smooth motion, he rotated your tangled forms, rolling on top of you and with a firm grip at your bottom, just shy beneath your dress, hauled your shorter form further up beneath his, allowing your lips to remain at an equivalent height. 

Fingers digging into your thighs, you clenched them tightly around his hips, lending you to feel even more of the palpable tent that had been so intoxicatingly nudging at your pantie-clad centre, your flowy dress haven already ridden all the way up and granting you to feel that much more.

Mind already two steps ahead of yours, his hips rolled against your own, both of your elated noises melting into one. 

Nevertheless, right as his fingers tore one of your straps down your shoulder, a matronly voice called out from the garden below, “hey, Ari? Hon?” both of you froze up at his mother’s shout, effectively rousing you from your fever dream, “your phone is ringing.”

Breathless, you both blinked back at each other as he mustered an answer, “alright,” his voice thick and his eyes still dark, “I’ll be right down.” 

How were you ever going to fall asleep? Every single molecule in your body still buzzed of the adrenaline from what had transpired earlier that evening. 

Catching sight of yourself in the mirror that hung on the wall, you couldn’t help but giggle as you still felt your lips tingle in remembrance. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a light flicker on in the neighbouring window parallel to your own. Your breath hitched as you spotted your childhood crush already gazing back at you. 

Raising your hand, you offered him a small wave, one which he swiftly mirrored, the silly notion conjuring a noticeable chuckle to rumble within his chest. 

You still weren’t fully convinced that it had actually happened. Not only had you kissed him, but he had actually kissed you back in such a manner that it was sure to erase any form of doubt about what his intentions might be.

Averting your gaze for what only felt like a moment, your head light-heartedly shaking in disbelief as you blinked down at your nightgown, the material bunched up at your thighs as you sat on the bed, the next thing you knew, the sound of a pebble hitting your window caught your attention. 

Had he climbed out of his own window? Went through a door? You couldn’t tell, because all you could focus on was the dimly lit visage of him coming to rest his folded arms against your windowsill. 

Getting up, you hastily worked at pushing it open, “h-hi,” you giggled nervously, a hand swiftly shooting up to muffle your laugh. 

“Hi,” he smiled, readjusting his grip on the ledge, “can I come in?”

“You wanna come in?” your eyebrows briefly shot up before you attempted a nonchalant, “y-yeah, sure,” your heart hammering against your ribcage at an impossible speed.

Expecting him to walk around to the front door and sneak his way in, he instead just pulled himself up and crawled directly into your room. 

“Hey,” he breathed as he found his footing.

“Hello,” you chuckled back, “you already said that. How many times do you plan on greeting me tonight?”

“As many times as you want me to,” he smirked, carefully catching your hands in his and consequently making your breathing become a little more difficult to manage with such dizzying contact. Staring down at your conjoined palms, he then weaved his fingers with yours and spoke frankly, “so, about earlier…”

“Yeah?” you breathed, trying to prepare yourself for the worst. 

“That was-…” he cut his own sentence off with a long exhale, a fuzzy smile overtaking his features, his head lightly shaking as his eyes finally lifted to meet yours. 

Biting down on your bottom lip, you hoped that you had caught on to the unspoken message, “…it was?” 

Vision flickering down to your bitten lips, he nodded softly and confirmed, “it was,” though the kiss he then pulled you into was really what sealed the deal for your youthful brain. 

“This is crazy,” you managed to utter between hungry pecks. 

“Too crazy?” he pulled back a bit, hands rooted on either side of your head. 

“No, just-…” you felt in that moment as if you could faint, “you have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about this…”

“Oh, yeah?” he breathed out a smile before softly capturing your lips once more. 

With your hands rooted tightly in his shirt, his hot skin burned through the light cotton, “is this really happening?”

“What do you think is happening?” he challenged playfully, his hands descending, running down your spine. 

“Are we really about to-, you know…” you uttered nervously.  

“Only if you want us to,” he replied, only for your heightened nerves to finally sink in, “wait, have you not-…” cheeks burning up, you shyly shook your head, “ever?”

“No…” you confessed, an automatic, “I’m sorry…” swiftly leaving your timid lips. 

“No, no, that’s alright, that’s okay,” he rushed to reassure you, a hand flying up to cup your flush cheek. 

Searching his eyes in the moonlight, “you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t mind?” your brows furrowed, doubting his unexpectedly copious comfort. 

Attempting to hide a smirk, he disclosed, “actually find it really hot, so no, Y/n, I don’t mind.”

“Oh…” you breathed, eyes growing wide, “okay.”

Watching you gingerly, he checked once more, “but, you do want to?”

“Yes,” the reply flew from your lungs out of fear that he would take it back, “please.”

“Okay,” he smiled softly, pulling you back in, “but please promise that you will tell me if you’ve had enough, wanna slow down, pause, anything,” eyes flickering up to the corner of the ceiling to list off, “kick, scream, whisper, I don’t care how, just let me know, okay?”

Letting your actions do the talking, you reached up and tugged him down to seal it with a kiss, “okay,” you eventually smiled against his own. After stealing a few additional propitious pecks, your hands trekked down his torso, feeling his muscles flex beneath your travelling touch as they eventually came to a halt at the bottom of his shirt, your fingers weaving in the fabric before you pulled back to ask softly, “may I?”

A gentle chuckle fanned out across your features as he promptly raised his arms up enough for you to tug the soft cotton over his head. It was in no way the first time you’d seen him shirtless, but it sure felt like it as the shirt hazily drop from your fingers at the breathtaking sight. 

Running his palms reassuringly down your upper arms, your eyes then flickered between his own and the belt he wore, asking him for permission with your glances. 

When his pants hit the floor, so did your jaw, a reaction in which he couldn’t help but smugly flourish in, your eyes glued to the intimidating tent tight within his black boxers, he adoringly plucked up your speechless face and softened the blow with a kiss that took your breath away.

His lips then began to wander, over your jaw, down your neck, and when your heavy lids blinked open, you saw his towering presence begin to shrink down onto his knees before you. Fingers tightly fisting the flowy fabric of your nightgown, he nuzzled his face into your softness on his slow descent, practically growling as he gently nipped at your covered boobs, inhaling your scent in deeply as his fingers came up to lightly teased the pebbly nipples poking him through the material. 

Slowly exploring your form over your clothes, gazing up at you with his soulful eyes, he soon settled on his knees. Keeping his eyes locked on yours, he slowly began to plant fluttering pecks all across your exposed thighs, his palms likewise gently caressing your legs. The comforting contact of his slowly ascending touch soon found the hem of your nightgown, gradually lifting it up and granting his lips the access to dance up towards your hips, the kisses occasionally coming dangerously close to soaked panties, though never quite meeting either. 

Leaning back, one hand held up your sleepwear as he took in the sight of what effect he had on you. Dragging his other over your goosebump-ridden flesh, he then boldly slid a few of the fingers under the strip of your underwear that stretched over your left hip, securely hooking them there before extending his broad thumb and swiping it over the wet patch adoring your panties. 

“Has anyone ever touched you like this?” he asked huskily as your brows knitted together at the pleasure of his teasingly grazing your covered clit, your wayward arms curling up against your chest, unintentionally pressing your tits together for him. 

“N-no,” your breath hitched, eyes fighting to stay open. 

Leaning forward, he placed a gentle peck over your covered slit, your pussy throbbing beneath his kiss as he glanced up to gauge your reaction, “is it okay?” his hot breath fanned across your centre. 

Finding it impossible to speak when he flashed you that look, you simply nodded eagerly and whimpered as his thumb pressed down harder, rolling your swollen pearl over the soaked cotton. 

Growing impatient, though also fearing that he’d make you cum before any of your clothing came off, you fervently lowered your fingers and began to tug your underwear down, Ari swiftly catching on and finishing the job himself.

“Fuck,” he stared, the sight nearly knocking the wind out of him, “you’re incredible…” 

Nerves still growing under his adoring gaze, you found yourself promptly pulling his physique back up, tugging him close enough for your lips to crash against his own out of hope that it could soothe your understandable tensions. 

Fingers still tangled in your nightgown, palming you hungrily through it as your lips ravaged each other’s, your bodies were so close that you nearly climbed him like a tree, though as you then momentarily parted for a breath of much-needed air, he impatiently yanked the shift up over your head and tossed it to the floor where most of his clothing lied in a crumbled pile. 

Plucking you up with surprising ease, you felt as your core soaked his bulge on the short journey to your bed. Cradling you against him as he sat down on the edge, his tongue danced over yours as you settled on his lap, the light night breeze, blowing through the still open window, washed over your nude body, though the mild summer air wasn’t to blame for the shiver that ran down you spine. 

Giving your tits a needy squeeze, he then murmured, “I feel like my eyes have been closed my whole life,” a hushed moan rushed out of him as you rocked your centre against his, the hardness so deliciously nudging against you, “how have I not seen that you’ve been right under my nose this whole time?”

“I was just a kid,” you stated, threading your fingers in his hair, “we both were.”

“Yeah, well you’re sure as fuck not that anymore,” he snaked a hand down between your tangled forms, sighing longingly as your abundant arousal soaked his fingers. “Has no one really ever touched you here before?” he asked you brashly as he strummed your clit, “not even just a little bit?”

“No, never anywhere,” your nose bumped against his, “only ever kissed, but it never felt like this,” your lips grazed his once more, pointing out the spark. 

A sharp gasp left your body as Ari’s middle finger breached your trembling opening after teasingly nudging it for what felt like an eternity. Already being agonisingly fired up before your clothes even hit the floor, now that you felt his thick digit tenderly pumping inside of you, working you up for more of his fingers, as well as his hot breath tickling the rabid pulse clear on your neck, it seemed like an impossible task to stop the crash that was about to transpire.

Broad thumb steady on your puffy clit, he just managed to slide his ring finger in beside the other before your world came tumbling down around you.

Crumbling down, your face nuzzled into his sturdy shoulder as your pussy clenched onto his now motionless fingers for dear life. With his free hand gently stroking up and down your back, he breathed, “you wanna keep going or was that enough?” tilting his chin to plant a soothing peck on your hairline as you regained your breath. 

“More,” your hazy voice vibrated against his skin, “I wanna feel you, I wanna feel all of you.”

“Well, you should probably know that I don’t have any condoms with me,” he reluctantly informed you, “so we can still do a lot of fun stuff, but we properly shouldn’t do everything-,” the rest of his sentence then crumbled as you hastily jumped up and yanked open the small drawer in your bedside table, “what are you doing?”

Pushing aside the books you used as a cover, you picked up a slim, flashy box containing the lacking item in question and showed it to him, “one of my friends gave it to me as a joke for my last birthday,” you explained in an adorably timid manner.

Blinking back at you, he then let out a genuine laugh, the warm and relieved sound rumbling within the room as you felt the sensation of your juices running down your inner thighs.

“You’re so amazing, you know that right?” he bubbled, pulling you back into his arms and capturing your lips in an adoring kiss. 

Hooking the tips of your fingers in the waistband of his boxers as you kissed him back, it took you a second to muster up the courage to tug them off. Peeking down, you swiftly let out a breathy, “oh my god,” as you watched his intimidating girth spring out. Blinking up at him with wide eyes, then back down again, he attempted to swipe the small box from your hands, but you wouldn’t let him, determined to try yourself.  

“You’re not gonna hurt me, baby,” he poked fun at how feathery and careful your touch was as you gingerly rolled the latex on. Gentle pride blossomed on your face in the form of a smile as you successfully finished the task, Ari then promptly scooted you both back further onto the mattress, a manoeuvre that caused your torso to drop down, your back melting into the mattress from the way he had manhandled you into place. 

Resting on his knees with your legs draped over each of his thick thighs, he smiled down at your molten form and yanked your hips closer, “come here,” he uttered hoarsely over the giggle the rollercoaster of a move triggered within you, although the laugh quickly faded away as the hefty weight of his dick in his hand came down to tap your puffy clit.

Watching with heavy lids as a dollop of spit dropped from his lips and down upon your already sodden folds, he then lavishly spread it around your pussy with his hard length, coating the excess over himself. Fucking your petals, parting the mess, and nudging your clit till you were wiggling out of your skin, his hands then slid under your spine and pulled you back up into his lap. 

Hugging your arms around his neck, your eyes never left his as you gently lifted yourself up, one of his burly forearms swiftly scooping under your bottom in support as he dragged the flush head of his cock through your dripping heat, your forehead dropping down against his at the buzzing bliss. 

So slowly that it felt as if time had stopped itself, you sank down, gasping as only the tip stretched you out. 

“Shit,” he uttered quietly, fingertips digging into your ass to control himself from not just slamming you down all the way. Forgetting how to breathe, overwhelmed by what little you had received, by what little you felt brave enough to conquer, you gazed back at him as he whispered, “you feel so good…” sensing your pussy clench around his vast girth at his silky words, your eyes fluttered closed at the intensity, “so fucking warm…” he sloppily planted a few comforting pecks along your flush cheek, “gripping onto me so good…” the hand not under you drifted up to trace the curve of your spine, your lungs jaggedly expanding underneath his palm.

Unhurriedly, your body eventually relaxed and gently began to move, shallowly fucking the very tip of him, even though just that already felt like more than you could handle, the way the bulbous head stretched you out being unimaginable. 

“Oh my god,” you whined as the hand on your back slid around your form, sweetly coming up to brush the wild hair out of your face as he stared deeply into your eyes, “it’s so much!”

“Is it too much?” he asked, burying his face in the swell of your tit.

“I don’t-, I-,” you choked out, incapable of deciphering the correct answer at this staggering moment, “it’s just so much!” blubbering as his lips captured your pebbly nipple, “you’re so much, you’re just so-, oh my god!”

On the verge of cumming again, your hand shot down to rub your clit, his enthusiastic words crashing into you like a wave, “yeah, rub your clit,” grunting as he craned his head to look at the crude vision, “rub it, make yourself cum, come on, I can feel how close you are.”

With lewd moans reverberating off the walls, your body trembled in his grasp as your pussy clamped so tightly that it completely expelled his throbbing tip. Hearing him quietly curse into your ear, you slumped down against his form, your cores still aligned just right for the essence of him to slip back into place, your limps desperately clinging onto his shoulders as you caught your breath.

“This doesn’t even feel like real life,” you mumbled into his skin, the tip of his cock still feeling like a rock inside of you.

Gently tilting your head back, his eyes found your dazed ones as his deep voice washed over you like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night, “it is real life.”

Lip trembling with emotion, you asked, “you promise?”

With the hint of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, he let his forehead meet yours as he verified softly, “promise,” thumb soothingly sweeping across your cheek, “you need me to pinch you or something just to make sure?” 

Giggling airily at his bad joke, the rumble then swiftly morphed into a hiss as your sensitive cunt consequently contracted around him, “oh fuck, how are you still so big?”

“Uhm,” he chuckled, “I’m sorry?” 

“I just wanna feel all of you,” you whined light-heartedly, “but I don’t know how I’m ever gonna get there because it already feels like you’re all the way up here,” you motioned in the direction of your solar plexus.

You knew that you could technically just let go and sink down, but it felt too much like standing at the end of a diving board, too scared to jump even though you knew you’d be okay, the rush of the drop was just too much and led you to chicken out every time. 

“You really wanna feel the rest?” he asked, readjusting his hold on you.

Staring back into his eyes, you exhaled into a pout, “I do. I really, really do.”

Capturing your lips in a kiss, you then felt the world tilt as Ari dipped you both down until your back hit the mattress. Distracting you with his tongue, dancing it against your own, he abruptly began to move his hips, fluidly thrusting them forward till his pelvis nuzzled against your own. All the air in your lungs was knocked out as his kiss muffled the loud moan you let out.

“There you go,” he smirked down at you, settling his arms on either side of your face, caging you in and declaring him as your entire reality, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

Incapable of replying in a more eloquent way than just primal moans, your thighs trembled on either side of him as he slowly pulled back out till just the memory of him remained. Brows knitted together, you glanced down to take in the striking sight of his fat girth splitting you apart. 

“Look at how good we look together,” he followed your eye line, strings of your mess keeping his pelvis connected to yours like a carnal spiderweb, even when he slid out, reaching down to briefly glide the underside of him through your sloppy petals, ending by giving your puff a tap so rude that your entire body jumped beneath him, “such a good girl, taking it like a champ,” he buried himself once again, groaning lowly in bliss at the pleasure, “fucking knew you could take it,” he then emphasised each word he uttered next with a merciless thrust, “every god damn inch,” rocking into you so hard that the bed rattled beneath you.

With his dark eyes fixed upon you, absorbing the way your features contorted in ecstasy, the desperate sounds of your wetness were more overbearing than the clapping of skin colliding. 

Sneaking another breathless kiss, he then dipped down and nipped along your neck, “fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, lips wandering up to graze the shell of your ear, “sucking me in so fucking good,” fingers trailing down your quivering form, they dug into your thighs and primally tugged them up, resting your legs upon his sturdy shoulder and bending you in half like a pretzel, “best fucking pussy ever.” 

“A-ari!” you whimpered, completely spellbound by the intense sensation of how impossibly deep he went, shaking under him like a leaf as you felt yourself tumble over the edge again. 

Tilting his head to catch your eyes, watching how hard they fought to stay open, “I know, I know,” he simply murmured, “don’t push me out, I know you’re gonna cum, but please keep me inside, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel you,” not changing his speed one bit as you felt your pussy begin to shower him with love, soaking the sheets below as your cunt choked his cock.

You didn’t even register how obscenely loud you got as the overwhelming orgasm seemed to go on forever, his own selfish efforts in relishing in the sensation did nothing but draw it out even further, his rhythmic thrusts stayed steady till he’d emptied himself in the latex and you had nearly passed out from pleasure. 

Peering up at him through your wispy lashes, tangled in the dewy aftermath, you began to giggle softly.

“What?” he chuckled groggily.

“I-… no, never mind,” you squashed the thought, “it’s silly…” 

“What is it?” his palm slid up against the side of your cheek. 

Vision flickering from one of his eyes to the next, you timidly spoke from the heart, “it's just that my wish came true. I always wanted you to be my first,” an unreadable expression crossed his features at the softness of your confession. He didn’t say anything, simply reached out and kissed you bittersweetly, though your blissed-out antennas didn’t catch onto that detail in the slightest, “you know, Evergreen isn’t too far away from where you work…” 

You didn’t know what hour you had finally fallen asleep, but apparently, at some point, you had, as you now found yourself stirring from your dreams, soar and a hazy smile still plastered upon your lips. Gliding your hand over the covers in search of your neighbour, you didn’t bump into his form and blinked open your eyes to find that he had gone.

Trying not to freak out, you figured that maybe he didn’t wanna get into a sticky situation if your parents were to spontaneously waltz in at the crack of dawn and had therefore sneaked out. 

Though when you peeked out your window to spy through his it was completely void of any sign of life. Could he unexpectedly have gotten called forcing him back to work or was there another reasonable explanation for his absence?

Shrugging on the minty, terrycloth robe that hung on the knob of your closet door, you strolled out of your door. Entering the kitchen where your mother already sat, she glimpsed up from her newspaper and flashed you a bright smile, “good morning, honey.”

“Morning, mom,” you cracked open a cupboard, seized a glass and held it under the tab which you swiftly turned on. 

“Oh,” she excitedly perked up from behind you, “have you seen what finally came in the mail?” glass full, you turned to see the opened envelope she was referring to, the swirling words that were scribbled upon the cracked open card instantly made you’re your blood run cold and the glass nearly slip out of your grasp, “I still think it’s silly that they actually sent out ours with everyone else’s and didn’t just toss it over the hedge, but sure, I do get that there is something very romantic about sending and receiving wedding invitations in the mail.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[worksxofxmyxmind]

Steve Rogers is the werewolf Bucky Barnes is the orc Thor is the dragon. And Loki is the werewolf.

Now reread them with this in mind for each

Monster bfs and their reaction to you getting hurt by little inconsequential things that you react to in pain at first but then they wildly overexaggerate.

Werewolf bf would hear you whimper and come running to find you. He sees you have a splinter and he’s whining and whimpering at the irritated skin on your finger. With his claws he carefully gets it out of you before licking it and nuzzling into your palm. Before you can even argue he’s saying you’re too hurt to do anything else today and brings you into the bed for cuddles.

Vampire bf smells you before he hears you cry out in pain. In a flash he’s by your side, eyes wild as he looks over you. When he sees the small cut on your leg his heart lurches, even when you say it looks worse than it is. He falls to his knees before you, his mind a cloud of worry and hunger. He laps at your cut, slowly licking the wound to reveal it in its entirety. Despite the way his veins hum with the taste of your blood his love for you is more pressing and so he runs to grab your frequently used roll of gauze and patches you up.

Dragon bf has loved having you in his cave and among his hoard. You’re his most treasured possession after all so there is no where else that you belong except by his side. But when you stumble and slide down a mountain of gold, hitting your head on an old crown, your bf cares no longer for any of his treasures besides you. Despite your protests he moves all of his treasure to the back of the cave before filling the rest of it with the fluffiest pillows and the softest blankets. Making sure that if you ever fall again it will only be met with comfort.

Orc bf who always displayed his weapon collection with pride. But he comes rushing over as soon as he hears you yelp, only to discover you ended up pricking yourself on the sharp spikes of one of his clubs. You try to assure him that you’re fine and it just surprised you. But when you come home the next day you see them nowhere to be found. Ready to give your bf a firm talking to, he directs your gaze upwards where he’s displayed his weapons much higher up now to not risk you getting hurt. He stubbornly refuses to move them back down when you talk to him and there’s no way you can reach or even carry them to put them back. Your orc bf explains that it’s worth them being harder to see so long as you’re safe.

God, there are so many more I could do but I didn’t want to make this too long.

[huffelpuff210]

Soft dark mob Steve Rogers x innocent reader part 3

Warning: mentions of abuse and beating dark behavior,

The sound of beeping in the background was heard, Steve the big bad mob boss brought to his knees by one woman, Steve watched as your chest rose and fell at a steady pace,

Steve and Bucky both knew they couldn’t risk taking you to a hospital Brock probably sent word out about you,

They had the mafia doctor look at you, you had multiple injuries, six cracked ribs, a collapsed lung, you had a fractured jaw, multiple fractures in your cheeks, concussion, dislocated shoulder,

Steve was beyond pissed taking out his anger on Brock who is in a warehouse hanging from a meat hook bound as he gets the shit beat out of him, Steve had never been so angry, Bucky either after your brother threw you under the bus both Steve and Bucky decided to send him to Tony for some tough training, Tony has a way of breaking idiots from their habits and selfishness,

Your heavy eyelids slowly flutter open, you stare at an unfamiliar ceiling, the sound of a heart monitor could be heard, you slowly turn your head seeing that it was just starting to get dark..

What time was it? How long? Were you asleep? And where were you? You look around but the room was empty, you groaned at the pain but suck it up, pulling the blanket off of you. You see you were in a oversized grey tee shirt, it hung just above your knees.

You pull your IV out of your arm the heart monitor off your finger.

You get out of bed only to stumble, but you regain your footing, as you walked past the mirror you see your face was beyond bruised,

Gauze was wrapped around your jaw and head.

You just shake it off opening the door looking around it all looked familiar,

You walked down the hallway your arms crossed, but as soon as you pass a familiar picture you knew exactly where you were, Steve’s place,

You walk down a few hallways that was until running coming from behind you, and flashes from being captured rush back, you froze,

Suddenly Sam comes into view along with Natasha

“Oh thank god, Y/N what the hell?” Sam says as Natasha was talking through her ear piece

Not long Steve and Bucky strode towards you,

“Jesus doll you had us scared.” Bucky says with a worried look Steve looks relieved yet concerned,

“Let’s get you back to bed.” Steve says

Steve guides you back to the room,

Steve nods at everyone and they leave,

Steve would be lying if he said seeing you in his shirt didn’t turn him on, or the way you were looking at him, but he had to remind himself to control himself, you were injured and needed rest,

He helped you into bed, he got Bruce to put your IV back in,

He sat in the chair next to your bed,

You knew there was a lot on his mind so you decided to speak,

“I’m sorry,” your voice came out raspy

He looked at you confused,

“Kitten you shouldn’t be apologizing I should,” he said with a sigh

You shake your head

“I brought into a mess you shouldn’t have had to clean up.” You say

He chuckled

“Kitten I would fight the devil himself if I had to in order to save you.” He says

“Besides it was your dimwit brother who is the real artist for this situation.” He says with a growl

“I tried so hard to keep you away from this life..” he says with a sigh

“But he brought it to your doorstep so I’m no longer going to restrain myself when it come to you. Not anymore.” He says

You were completely oblivious to what he was talking about, he stood up towering over you, and still this man doesn’t scare you, never has, his blue eyes shine as he smiles,

He gently cups your face with his large hands, he kisses you, you were in shock,

You’ve never kissed A man before or felt the touch of a man, Bucky always scared them off before they would even think of it,

But here was Steve the king of New York, your friend, Bucky’s boss,

He was kissing you!

You were stiff at first but eventually melted into the kiss,

After he parted he smiled down at you,

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He says

You smile back at him, because deep down you wanted to as well…

[kylopen]

In My Head

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sunshine reader is always seen as sweet and innocent to the team, always happy to use her healing magic wherever possible. Bucky, touch starved and in love, discovers reader is not as innocent as she seems.

Word count: 8.2k words <3

Plus size reader safe! All body types are safe in this fic! Everyone loves Dom! Bucky I do too but good god I need whipped Bucky who will do anything for Reader. This is the longest piece I’ve written in so long! Enjoy and leave a note<3 I’m in my marvel era again so feel free to request anyone! I didn't proof read (i finished it at 1am)

Tags: There is a plot! (porn with plot lol) AFAB reader, The smut is pure FILTH tbh, Smut, Pining Bucky, no use of Y/N.

Smut warnings: Sub!Bucky, soft dom! Reader, use of ‘Good boy’, Bucky has a praise kink, pussy eating (lots of it), Needy/touch starved Bucky, Bucky has an Edward Cullen moment, Oral (female/reader receiving— THREE times hehe) penetration, Buck likes his hair pulled, Bucky dry humps, Reader squirts (third oral sequence so skip that part if you wish) needy creampie.

There were things in the modern world that baffled Bucky, Bubble tea, new terms for prejudice ending in 'phobia', babies with Ipads in their faces. And you. The first time he laid eyes on you, you gave him a blindingly sweet smile, and held your hand out for him to shake. When he didn't take it you didn't judge him or look at him funny, you smiled like you understood. From then on, you respected his boundaries and he began to feel safe. It made sense to him that someone like you had the power to help and heal others.

You’d always bring them things; vitamins, water, those weird orange flavoured things that dissolve in water, something a little sugary for a boost, with that sweet, innocent smile he'd grown to adore. He would never- could never admit that though, someone like him wasn't worthy of you. He could settle for some longing and pining instead.

Bucky is lounging on the sofa with Steve, some 50s flick playing that Steve had insisted on, something about a painter in Paris- he wasn't sure. And then, you walk in, your sweet voice drifting into his ear.

“An American in Paris, huh?” you asked, gently teasing as you moved closer to the sofa, catching sight of the movie they were watching.

Bucky shifted a little, his gaze flickering to you, then quickly back to the TV. He tried not to look at you too much when you were around, not because he didn’t want to, but because every time he did, it felt like something in his chest tightened. It certainly didn’t help that it was a hot day today, you’d opted for a cute pink and white sundress that stopped mid thigh.

“Yeah, Steve’s choice,” Bucky muttered, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out a little softer than he intended. He knew that you liked these kinds of old movies, so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Steve grinned from the other end of the couch, catching the subtle shift in Bucky’s tone, but not saying anything about it. Instead, he glanced up at you with a friendly smile.

“You a fan of the classics too?” Steve asked, gesturing for you to sit if you wanted to join them.

You walked over, the scent of your shampoo reaching Bucky’s senses. Vanilla and coconut, coincidentally his favourite fragrance, something that had changed not long after he’d met you… coincidentally of course, and the more you lingered around, the harder it became for him to focus on anything but you.

“Reminds me of my dad. Some are super sexist but I’m a sucker for Marilyn Monroe” you said, sitting down at the edge of the couch, right next to Bucky. Close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off of you, but still with enough space to respect his boundaries. You always seemed to know exactly how to balance that, without even trying. It amazed him.

Bucky felt his pulse quicken as you sat beside him. You were so close. Too close. Not close enough.

He grunted in agreement with your statement, nodding, though his eyes stayed fixed on the screen. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you—he just didn’t know how. What could he say that wouldn’t make him seem awkward or broken? Besides, talking might make him reveal just how badly he wanted to be near you, and he couldn’t afford that.

But then you spoke again, your voice soft and gentle, like you were speaking just to him. “How was training today?”

He cleared his throat, trying to push away the thoughts clouding his mind. “Same as always. Steve still hits like a truck.”

Steve laughed from the other side, “You’re the one with the metal arm, Buck.”

Bucky shot him a look, but there was no real bite to it. Just a distraction. He was grateful for it.

You laughed too, and that sound—it was like a melody that settled right under Bucky’s skin, making him feel warm in a way he hadn’t in a long time. He stole a glance at you again, just for a second, and you were looking right at him. That smile on your face, the one that had been seared into his memory from the moment you’d met.

“Let me guess,” you said, eyes twinkling, “you didn’t let him win this time either?”

Bucky’s lips twitched, almost into a smile, but he stopped himself. “Nope.”

“Good,” you replied, your voice soft again, almost as if you were relieved. “Can’t let Cap off easy.”

It was such a simple thing to say, but it hit Bucky harder than he’d expected. You cared. Not just in the way you handed out snacks and drinks after training or smiled when they passed by, but genuinely cared. For him. For Steve. And maybe, just maybe, that meant you’d be willing to see something more in him than he saw in himself.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but it was thick with unspoken words. Bucky could feel it. He wanted to reach out, say something—anything—but the words lodged themselves in his throat, like they always did when it came to you.

For a moment, Bucky let himself wonder what it would be like—if he could let himself believe he was worthy of you. Of someone so full of light and warmth, when all he felt was the shadows of his past.

But then the doubt crept back in, and he looked away again. He couldn’t let himself get too close. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could manage without giving too much away.

You didn’t push him, though. You never did. You just smiled again and settled into the couch beside him, watching the movie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for a fleeting moment, Bucky let himself pretend that it was.

The training room echoes with the sharp sound of fists hitting metal, the rhythmic thud of boots against the mat, and the occasional grunt of exertion. Bucky and Steve were sparring again; the same routine they'd run through countless times. It usually helped Bucky clear his mind, focus his energy on something physical, something he could control. But today, it was different.

“Come on, Buck, focus,” Steve says as he circles around, hands up and ready. His movements were fluid, precise. He was always like that—disciplined, unshakable. Bucky was too, usually. But not today.

His thoughts kept drifting, unbidden, back to you.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how close you had been on the couch last night, the way your voice had softened when you’d spoken to him, like you saw something in him that no one else did. That smile. It was haunting him in the best way.

As if to taunt him farther, his mind flashes with the image of you in your sundress, the way it swayed around the soft skin of your thighs.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice cut through his reverie, but not fast enough.

Distracted, Bucky moves just a second too late. He swings wide, and Steve, quicker than ever, ducked under his arm and swept his legs out from under him. Before Bucky could react, he hit the mat hard, air leaving his lungs in a sharp gasp.

“Damn it,” Bucky growles, more at himself than at Steve. He stays on the floor for a moment, trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He shouldn’t be getting distracted like this. Not during a sparring session. Not ever.

Steve stands over him, offering a hand, his brow furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky grumbles, accepting the hand and letting Steve pull him back to his feet. His ribs ache from the fall, but it wasn’t anything serious. It was more the embarrassment that stung. Bucky didn’t like feeling off his game, and lately, thinking about you was doing just that.

“You weren’t focused,” Steve says, stepping back into position. It wasn’t a question.

Bucky wiped the sweat from his brow, shaking out his arms as if that could somehow reset his mind. “I’m fine. Let’s go again.”

Steve hesitates for a second, then nods, getting back into stance. He could tell something was on Bucky’s mind, but he wasn’t going to push. At least, not right now. Steve knew when to back off, and when to press—though Bucky had a feeling that conversation would come soon enough.

They start again, trading punches and dodges, but Bucky couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts of you. The way you made him feel—safe, seen. The way you’d praise him. God… the way you’d tell him he did a good job after training or a mission,

Just for a second, his mind drifts again— Your pretty eyes, the way they’d look at him like he was something amazing, the smile you’d give him and then he wonders what your face would look like as he dives down deep between your thighs-

Steve’s fist came in fast, and though Bucky manages to block it, he doesn’t account for the follow-up. Steve's knee connects with his side, hitting just below his ribs with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

Bucky staggers back, holding his side with a grimace.

“Whoa, Buck!” Steve stops immediately, hands out in concern. “You good?”

Bucky clenches his jaw, nodding, though his side throbbed. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not fine,” Steve replies, taking a step forward, but Bucky waves him off, frustrated with himself more than anything.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky snaps, turning away for a moment to catch his breath. He hates this. Hates how easily you get into his head, how much he let himself think about you when he was supposed to be focused. It wasn’t like him to get distracted, especially not in a fight.

Steve gives him a long, knowing look. He wasn’t pushing the subject yet, but Bucky could see it in his eyes—Steve had noticed something. And knowing Steve, it wouldn’t be long before he asked about it.

Steve lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “You need to go get that checked out.” He motions to the cut on Bucky’s cheek and his ribs.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky mutters.

Steve doesn’t budge. “Buck, if you don’t get that cleaned up, it’s going to get worse. You’re already bruised, and that cut—” He gestured to Bucky’s face. “—needs to be looked at.”

Bucky was about to argue again when Steve adds, with a pointed look, “Go see her.”

He blinks, his heart suddenly beating faster in his chest. “What?”

“Go see her,” Steve repeats, his voice calm but insistent. “You know she can patch you up. She always does.”

Bucky opens his mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. You always did take care of them after training, offering vitamin drinks or snacks, your touch gentle and your presence calming.

“I don’t need—” Bucky begins, but Steve cuts him off with a significant look.

“Buck, you’re hurt. Let her help you. Besides, we both know she’d want to,” Steve says, his tone softening as he rests a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She cares, man. And you’re not doing yourself any favours by pretending you don’t need her.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his chest tight with a mix of frustration and something else he couldn’t quite name. The truth was, he did want to go to you.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky nods, finally relenting. “Fine.”

Steve smiles, patting him on the shoulder. “Good. Now go get cleaned up. I’ll finish up here.”

Bucky hesitates for a second before turning to leave the training room, his side still aching from the hit.

All he knew was that when he saw you, when you smiled at him with that gentle, understanding look in your eyes, it was going to make it that much harder to keep pretending he didn’t feel anything.

Bucky’s footsteps echo softly through the hall as he makes his way to the infirmary. When he reaches the infirmary door, he gives a soft knock before stepping inside.

You’re there, sitting at your desk with one thigh crossed elegantly over the other, your attention focused on some paperwork in front of you. You’re dressed in your usual professional attire—a fitted dress that hugs your form just enough to hint at your curves beneath your white lab coat. The subtle click of your black heels against the floor when you shift is a small, but noticeable, sound that makes Bucky's heart beat a little faster.

You look up when you hear him enter, that sweet, welcoming smile appearing almost instantly. “Bucky,” you greet warmly, your voice soft. “What brings you in? Did you and Steve go a little too hard today?”

For a second, Bucky just stands there, distracted by how you look. His heart skips a beat as he takes in the sight of you. He notices, maybe for the first time, how the hem of your dress rides up slightly when you cross your legs. He forces himself to look away before you catch him staring.

“Uh, yeah,” he mutters, gesturing vaguely to the cut on his face. “Just a cut… and maybe some bruised ribs.”

You arch an eyebrow, your smile turning a little coy. “Only maybe bruised ribs? Sounds like you need me to take a closer look.”

Bucky blinks, heat creeping up his neck as he tries to decide whether he’s imagining the playful tone in your voice or if it’s actually there. He clears his throat. “Yeah… probably.”

With that, you uncross your legs and stand up, heels clicking softly against the tile floor as you walk over to him. Your movements are graceful, confident, and Bucky feels his pulse quicken as you draw closer. There’s something about the way you carry yourself today—calm, collected, but with an air of subtle suggestion that makes him feel off balance.

You stand just inches away from him, reaching up to gently tilt his chin up so you can inspect the cut above his eyebrow. Your fingers are cool against his sweaty skin, and Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat.

“It’s not deep,” you murmur “But it’s a little more than a scratch. Seems like you need my magic touch~” you wiggle your fingers and Bucky bites back a groan at the subtle implication.

Before Bucky can respond, you place your hand gently over the wound, and he feels a soft, warm tingling sensation spread across his skin. Your healing powers are subtle but effective, and within seconds, the pain is gone, the cut already closing up beneath your touch. He’s experienced your abilities before, but every time he feels a spark from your touch, it’s a simple move but he craves more.

“There we go,” you say softly, removing your hand from his face. Your fingers linger a little longer than usual, trailing down his jaw ever so slightly before you step back, your eyes locking with his for a brief moment.

Bucky swallows hard, trying to shake off the heat rising in his chest. He’s probably imagining it—just reading too much into things. You’re always sweet, always kind and innocent.

Your gaze drops to his side, and you gently brush your hand over his ribs. “Lift your shirt for me?” you ask, your voice light but carrying a tone of suggestion that makes Bucky’s heart skip a beat.

He hesitates for a second, then does as you ask, pulling up his shirt to reveal the dark bruise spreading along his ribs. You make a soft sound of sympathy, a small pout forming on your lips as your pretty eyes lock with his for a moment. You look back down, your fingers grazing his skin as you crouch slightly to get a closer look.

“You really got hit hard,” you murmur, your tone carrying a note of concern but it switches up subtly as you carry on: “Good thing I can take care of you.”

Bucky’s breath hitches. Did he hear that right? Is there something more in your words? You were just talking about the injury right? The way you said it, the way you moved—it feels almost sinful in a way he’s not used to, at least not from you. He tries to keep his focus, but with you this close, your fingers trailing lightly over his bruised skin, it’s damn near impossible.

You place your hand gently over his ribs, your touch soft but firm as you close your eyes for a moment, focusing on healing the injury. Bucky feels the familiar warmth of your powers again, spreading through his body like a gentle wave. The pain begins to melt away, the bruise slowly fading beneath your hand.

“There,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “All better.”

But your hand doesn’t move right away. Instead, it lingers on his ribs for a second too long, your fingertips brushing the edge of his abdomen in a way that makes his breath catch. Then, just as he’s about to say something—anything—you pull away, turning to your desk, palms flat and bending as if you’re looking for something. Bucky’s mind flashes to pulling up your dress and fucking you senseless then and there, his metal hand clenches and he shakes the thought away.

Bucky exhales slowly, trying to calm the sudden storm in his chest. He has to be imagining it, right? You’re just being your usual caring self- but that touch felt different. Everything you’re doing feels different. More intentional. And the way you’d looked at him just now—

He notices you didn’t actually pick anything up from the desk after you’d bent over it a little.

“Alright, just one last check,” you say as you come back to stand in front of him, a small, almost playful smile on your lips. “Let me make sure everything else is fine.” You reach up, your hand lightly brushing against his neck as if you’re checking for tension or soreness. But then, your fingers linger—soft and warm against his skin, trailing slowly down to his collarbone. The touch is innocent enough, but there’s something in the way you do it that makes Bucky’s entire body tense.

You meet his eyes, your expression still sweet and professional, but there’s a hint of something more—something almost teasing in the way you hold his gaze. “Hmm, seems like you’re all healed up,” you murmur, your voice soft but suggestive in a way that makes his pulse race.

Bucky swallows, his throat suddenly dry as he stares at you. For a moment, he can’t move, can’t speak—stuck between the need to figure out if what he’s feeling is real or just in his head. He tries to convince himself it’s all innocent, but the way your hand lingers on his neck, the way your eyes flicker to his lips for the briefest of moments… it leaves him wondering if you aren’t quite as innocent as he thought.

You finally step back, that same sweet smile on your face as if nothing happened. “Take it easy, alright? Don’t push yourself too hard next time.”

Bucky nods, his voice hoarse when he finally speaks. “Yeah… thanks.”

You tilt your head, your smile widening just a little. “Anytime.” You sit down on your chair again, crossing one thigh over the other, it seemed deliberate.

You rest a pencil on your lower lip, teeth grazing it just slightly, pretty eyes on him. Bucky draws in a breath and feels a problem growing between his legs. He spins around to the door, hoping you don’t notice.

As Bucky begins leave you call out once more: “Let me know if you need me Bucky~ you can always come to me”

As Bucky leaves the infirmary, his mind spins. He came in with injuries, but now he has a different kind of problem, he attempts to calm down, the hardness in his pants making it hard to think. Something has shifted between you two, and whether it’s real or just in his imagination, Bucky can’t help but think back to it all. Did you want him too?

That night, Bucky stares at his ceiling, mind flashing back to you at your desk. Why didn’t you pick anything up? Did you forget what you were looking for? The look in your eyes told him you must’ve known what was going through his head.

He groans and pushes his face into his pillow, he thinks back to something that had happened a few days ago. You were giving out some sort of vitamin pill to everyone, when you’d leaned in, lips near his ear as you whispered:

“I saved you the last cherry flavoured one, don’t tell anyone” before winking slightly.

He shivers at the memory; he could smell every inch of you when you leaned in.

He grunts and pushes his face farther into the pillow. Why did you always save the good things for him? Was it on purpose? Whenever you baked you’d give him first pick- he thought you were just being nice, the sweet girl they all know. But the more he thinks about you the more he notices those little things.

Before he had even registered what he was doing, he was standing and making his way to your rooms. You did say he could always come to you. Bucky freezes outside the door when he realises where he was and what he was doing. Was he crazy? How could he come up with an excuse for being at your door at eleven at night? Before he can change his mind and turn around your door opens. There you stood wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top- with no bra.

Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat as his gaze locks on you. The soft glow of your bedside lamp spills over your frame, highlighting the way your sleep shorts hug your hips and your tank top clings to your chest. His mouth goes dry.

You blink at him. “Bucky?” your voice is soft, a hint of curiosity laced in your tone. “Is everything okay? F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you were stood outside my door.

For a moment, all he can do is stare. He knows he should say something, anything, but his mind is scrambling for an excuse—an explanation for why he’s standing at your door in the middle of the night. His thoughts drift back to your touch earlier, the brush of your hand on his neck, and the memory of your lips near his ear just days ago.

You tilt your head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and Bucky swears there’s something teasing in your expression. You step aside, opening the door wider as if you’re inviting him in. “You didn’t have to knock, you know,” you say with that same sweetness. “You can always come to me.”

His heart pounds in his chest, loud enough that he wonders if you can hear it. He swallows, trying to push down the tension, but something in your eyes—something about the way you're looking at him—has his feet moving before his brain catches up.

He steps over the threshold.

Bucky steps inside, the door clicking shut softly behind him. The room is dim, and the soft scent of your perfume lingers in the air, teasing his senses. He watches you as you turn back toward him, your smile still warm, still innocent—at least on the surface.

“So…” you say, your voice soft as you walk a little closer to him, “What brings you here so late, Bucky?” There’s a hint of playfulness in your tone, like you already know the answer but want to hear him say it.

He shifts awkwardly, his eyes darting away from yours. “I… uh, I couldn’t sleep.” His voice comes out rougher than he intended.

“We both know my healing powers can’t help you sleep Bucky. So what’s up with you coming to see lil’. ol’. Me.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but no words come out. His mind is racing—unsure if you're playing a game or if he’s just reading too much into it. His eyes flick down to your tank top, the way it clings to you, the coolness from the hallway had made hard peaks appear on your chest he then glances back to your face. You’re watching him carefully, that same playful glint in your eyes.

You tilt your head slightly, voice soft but teasing. “You’ve been thinking a lot lately, haven’t you?” Your fingers brush lightly against his arm, sending a shiver through him. “About me?”

Bucky feels his pulse quicken. He’s certain now—there’s no way he’s imagining it.

“I—” He swallows hard, trying to find the right words. But before he can, you step even closer, your body inches from his now, your hand lingering on his arm.

“You think I didn’t notice?” You ask sweetly

Bucky’s breath hitches as your words sink in, and his chest tightens, the space between you suddenly feeling far too small. His mind is racing, but his body is rooted in place, drawn to you in a way he can’t explain. He tries to speak, to form some kind of coherent response, but his voice fails him.

“You think I didn’t notice?” you ask again, your voice low, sweet, but with a teasing edge that makes Bucky’s heart race. Your hand is still resting lightly on his arm, your touch burning through his skin despite the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of your body is so close now, and Bucky is overwhelmed by the scent of you—intoxicating, pulling him deeper into the moment. He can feel himself grow hard at the simple touch, he want’s your hands all over him. He just needs to feel you touch him.

He stares down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the way your lips curve into that soft, knowing smile. You tilt your head up slightly, your eyes locking with his, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just the two of you, standing impossibly close, the air between you thick with tension.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, but Bucky hears every word. “I notice where your eyes go when I wear a skirt or dress, if I bend over or wear anything even remotely low cut.”

He swallows hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. He wants to say something, to explain himself, to apologize, but he can’t—because the truth is, you’re right. He has been looking at you, watching you, craving your presence without ever fully admitting it to himself.

You shift even closer, your chest almost brushing against his, and Bucky’s breath catches as your fingers slowly trail up his arm, lingering at his shoulder. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep control of himself. The way you’re looking at him, your lips parted slightly, your eyes holding his like they’re daring him to make the next move…

He’s losing it.

“You don’t have to hide it,” you whisper, your voice laced with that same soft, teasing edge. Your hand moves up to his neck now, your fingertips brushing the sensitive skin just below his jaw. “You can tell me what you want, Bucky…”

He whines.

Before the embarrassment can hit him you let out a low groan at the sound. “Fuck…”

Bucky’s breath comes out in a shudder, his self-control hanging by a thread. He feels the warmth of your hand against his neck, the way your touch lingers just a second too long, and it sends a wave of heat rushing through him.

He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already moving, closing the last bit of space between you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and Bucky’s resolve crumbles. He can’t hold back anymore.

His hand reaches out almost instinctively, fingers gently curling around your waist, pulling you closer. He leans down, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches from your lips, his heart pounding in his chest.

“You…” His voice is low, strained, as if he’s barely holding on. “You’re driving me crazy, doll.”

You smile, and the look in your eyes—soft, teasing, and just a little wicked—sends him over the edge.

Bucky leans to close the gap but your finger presses against his lips. A frown forms on his face, and then you speak.

“ah ah ah” you shake your head “we ask for what we want”

Bucky mentally scolds himself for not asking, he was in the moment.

“May I kiss you?” he asks.

“Say please” there was an unexpected dominance to your tone, completely wiping out the innocence.

Oh fuck.

Bucky feels himself grow harder at the tone. He’s momentarily stunned. Your pretty eyes are on him, feigning innocence but there’s something sinful hiding in them. His beautiful blue eyes look down at you, filled with need.

“Please?”

You let out a moan at the word, your body heating up, your core dampens your shorts.

“Fuck… Bucky…” You say breathily before you pull him down a little to reach your height and kiss him. It’s gentle, as though you’re teasing him, giving him a glimpse to what he can have. He just needs to ask politely.

“Doll… please… I…” He struggles to get his words out, brain fogged over from all the sensations hitting him at once. You run your hands along his abs and he whines again. The whine shoots straight through you. Bucky Barnes, the worlds most accomplished assassin is whining for you.

“Please what? Good boys use their words.” You say in a sinfully soft voice that sends a shiver down his spine.

“I need… more… please” He whispers your name at the end and you hum, satisfied. You grasp his hand and it feels so good to him. Too good. He follows you as you pull him towards the bed.

“Sit there. Lean against the headboard” you hum and he immediately does as he’s told. Sure, he was a super solider who could overpower you in a second, you were both aware. But you were both also aware that he didn’t want that. He needed you to guide him.

You plant yourself in his lap, straddling him, before letting out a soft hum as you feel his hardness push against your core over your sleep shorts. Bucky lets out a moan at the contact but you’re quick to swallow it with a deep, heated kiss. His hands claw at your hips and you gasp slightly as the metal of his hand touches your skin. He’s quick to pull it away but you’re quicker, gripping his wrist and shaking your head, guiding it back in place.

You continue the kiss, before taking his lower lip in between your teeth. You open your eyes to see his blue ones are locked onto your own in what can only be described as the hottest, neediest way, his pupils dilated. You lick over his lip before your hand snakes around the back of his neck and up to his hair. You gently tug, its light, testing the waters and his lips part, head nodding. You pull his hair back a little harsher and he moans. You laugh, the sound dark and sinful in Bucky’s ears.

Your lips kiss his earlobe. “You like your hair pulled? Dirty boy~”

He moans again and nods, hands gripping your hips a little harder, pulling you down to grind on him. You make a ‘tsk’ sound and he freezes, quickly remembering your rule.

You get off him and he groans at the loss of contact, his needy eyes falling onto you. You slowly pull down your shorts, revealing your core to him. His breathing quickens, cock twitching and straining against his sweatpants.

“Take your clothes off, honey” your sultry voice fills his ears and he does so immediately, stripping off his shirt first, exposing the honey toned abs with numerous scars here and there. He is beautiful and you let it show on your face. He drags down his sweatpants leaving him in his grey boxers. There’s a dark damp spot on them from his arousal, pre-cum weeping through from the tip. You make a gesture for him to keep going and he obliges, dragging the boxers down. He stands there, glorious cock hard against his abdomen, looking at you, waiting for your next command.

“What do you want? You just need to ask” You inquire, goading him to tell you.

He swallows, looking down at your dripping core and then back to his cock. You fully expect him to ask to fuck you based on his expression, but he shocks you.

“Can I taste you please?”

Your eyes widen briefly, stunned at his choice.

“I’m sorry— if you don’t want—“ He begins to speak but you cut him off with a finger to your lips and standing up. You slowly peel off your shorts, leaning against the wall.

“You asked me so nicely.” You beckon him and the speed in which he’s on his knees in front of you has your legs weak. His hands skim over your thighs, leaving Goosebumps in their wake. “Is this what you want?”

Bucky looks up at you with desperate eyes, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Yes, please” His voice is hoarse.

“You wanna make me feel good?” You coo.

Bucky groans, his hands gripping your thighs a little. “More than anything” He confirms.

You nod, giving your permission and he settles in between your thighs. He grasps your ass, pulling you up so your legs are over his shoulders, his head cradled by your thighs. You’re momentarily stunned, briefly forgetting he’s a super soldier with insane strength. The thought goes right to your core. Your back is against the wall, his hands still firm on your ass, keeping you in place. Bucky’s breath ghosts across your core before he looks up at you. The sight was nearly enough to make you come. With a firm squeeze on your ass, he dives in, licking a stripe up your lips, making you gasp and weave your fingers through his hair. He groans and begins to lap at your clit like a man starved. He occasionally moans and groans, letting you know how much he’s enjoying being between your legs.

“Bucky— oh my god” You moan out. This only drives him more, he focuses his tongue on your bundle of nerves and you see stars.

He is good at this.

Really fucking good.

Too good?

It doesn’t take you long to come at all, you grasp his hair tighter, thighs squeezing around his head in a way that makes his cock twitch against his abdomen. He rides you through your orgasm until you’re squirming and too sensitive.

He pulls back, holding you up still, and looks into your eyes. The lower part of his face is sinfully wet, he gives you a charming smile, eyes still betraying his neediness.

“You did so well… so good for me…” You breathe out and a strangled noise escapes him.

A praise kink.

“You did so so good for me Bucky~ You deserve a reward” You coo, getting off his shoulders and standing up. You tilt his head up with your finger. “You want a reward baby?”

Bucky lets out a breathy noise and nods.

“What do you want? I’ll give you whatever you want”

Bucky Looks up at you, standing up. He shocked you again.

“Please doll… sit on my face… if… you want…” He adds the last part, unsure. All he knows is that being in between your thighs, hearing you, feeling you, giving you pleasure is all he wants right now.

You bite back a groan and nod, watching him scramble to the bed, laying on his back. He’s gloriously naked, thick cock incredibly hard and standing to attention. You crawl up his body, making sure to brush up against his length to hear those delicious whines from him. His hips buck a few times against you and then you’re settled just above his face. You look down at him and he looks ravenous— His desperate eyes flicking from your core to your face. His hands keep flexing as he struggles, wanting nothing more than to pull you down onto his face and hold you there until he can’t breathe.

“You can touch me Buck” you say softly and his hands hesitantly settle on your hips. He pauses before it eventually becomes too much and pulls you down onto his face, groaning at the impact. You don’t move much, assuming he wants to take the lead when he speaks, muffled against your core.

You giggle and look at him innocently. “Sorry honey what was that? I can’t understand you~”

His eyes grow even more needy, looking up at you. He speaks, muffled again before he decided to lift you up just enough to speak.

“Move— please. Grind on my face. Use me to come please”

How could you say no to such a beautiful request?

You settle back down and rock your hips. His tongue moves with the same finesse and you can’t help but wonder if he’s tired. He doesn’t look tired. You move his arms so he’s holding them up and you entwine your fingers, using his arms to keep you upright, moving against him. His eyes are fluttering shut in pleasure and you groan. You make quick work of your shirt, leaving you both naked now.

“Eyes open Bucky~ I thought you wanted to see what you do to me?~” You tease.

His eyes shoot open again, pupils dilated, his eyes more black than blue now.

“Good~ So good to me” You breathe out and he moans against you, making you gasp and your hips stutter. You grip his hands tighter. His pretty eyes are begging you to come and you do, thighs once again squeezing around his head, making him feel dizzy. Your hips are bucking against his face not even thinking about his breathing— but that isn’t on Bucky’s mind either. You ride out your orgasm and get off him, falling on your back, breathing erratic.

Bucky lays there with the lower half of his face wet, stubble and all. His breathing is erratic and his cock is painfully hard against his abdomen.

“Holy shit Bucky” You huff out and a hoarse moan leaves his mouth.

He slots himself between your legs, kissing your shoulder, slowly moving down your body until he’s at your hip, kissing it softly.

“You are so beautiful doll” His eyes are sincere and your cheeks feel hot at the compliment. “One more time? Please?” He asks, eyes pleading.

Sweet mother of Jesus.

“You want— you seriously— you want to eat me out again?” Your eyes are wide.

Bucky nods, nuzzling and kissing your thigh before focusing on your face again. “And to fuck you with my fingers if that’s alright with you doll?”

Sweet. Mother. Of. Jesus.

Your brain short circuits for a moment at the words leaving his mouth and you mindlessly nod, your gaze heated and intense.

He runs a finger along your dripping core and he moans. Was he really getting this much pleasure? You hadn’t even touched him at all. He teases your entrance before sinking a finger in softly. He hisses at how tight it is, his cock twitching. You let out a soft breathy moan at the feeling, instinctively reaching for his hair. Bucky peppers kisses on your thighs before he begins pumping his finger.

It’s not enough.

“More” You demand, gripping his hair. Bucky is happy to oblige, pushing a second finger in, your toes curling. “oh god yes”

Bucky begins to curl his fingers, brushing up against your sweet spot as he increases his pace a fraction and you cry out.

“Am I doing good?” His husky voice asks, desperate for praise.

“So good baby, so fucking good. You’re so good to me” You moan out and he snaps, thrusting his fingers into you with a little more force and latching his mouth onto your clit. You’re so sensitive at this point you let out a whine, your words not coherent. You didn’t even know it was possible to come this many times before being fucked. The coil in your stomach feels more intense than you have ever felt before, you tighten around his fingers and before you could warn him, he pulls away, watching the liquid squirt from you in awe. You, on the other hand are glassy eyed and trembling afterwards.

Bucky gives you a few minutes to settle before he brings himself back up to your face, you pull him in for a messy kiss. His cock is settled on your thigh, Bucky whines into the kiss and you can feel him jutting against it. You grasp his chin as he kisses you, feeling his length as he desperately claims whatever friction he can get.

Bucky is surprised at himself. There has never been a time in his life where he has felt the need to dry hump a woman. But you have the best ways of bringing new feelings and actions out of him.

“Please” He says softly.

“Oh you’re so worked up honey. After doing such a good job. Take what you want Bucky” you coo, stroking his cheek and he leans into it before settling his hips between your legs.

“Can I… are you okay if I…” He begins and you nod.

“You’ve more than earned it” You rake your hands through his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

In an attempt to ground himself, He places his hands on your headboard, letting you guide his cock into place. He pushes in and groans, immediately shattering the headboard where his hands were.

Oh lord.

You squeeze around him and let out a breathy, aroused giggle. Bucky on the other hand looks mortified.

“Oh my god doll I am so sorry—“ He goes to pull out of you but you grasp his arms and shake your head. He doesn’t take much convincing before he pushes into you fully. He’s panting and rests his forehead on yours. Even with the fingers stretching you earlier, you need to adjust. The super solider cock is no joke.

You moan encouragingly in his ear and he pulls back softly before pushing back in. Your eyes flutter and Bucky has his trained solely on you and your reactions.

“Am I hurting you, doll?” He asks, breathily, stopping his motions.

You shake your head immediately. “Please don’t stop”

He keeps his strength in check, bracing on the half broken headboard again, his hands slotting into the Bucky sized hand holes in them. He uses a leisurely pace that does hit the spot, but it’s not quite enough. You could tell he was holding back for your sake but you needed to see just how much he needed you.

“Harder Bucky~ Fuck. I can take it— please”

The headboard crushes even more at your words, your legs were wound around his hips, he leans forward, wrapping his arms around you, his face buried in your neck as he desperately thrusts into you. It’s hard and fast, a string of moans and curses leaving your mouth as you can’t move in his grip, all you can do is take it. You’re seeing stars now, as Bucky is whining and muttering praises in your ear.

“You feel so good doll”

“I would do this forever… beautiful beautiful girl”

And lastly:

“Oh god thank you” He repeats the phrase a few times and your head spins.

He’s fucking thanking you.

You manage to moan out a few praises that are punctuated by his sharp needy thrusts. He pulls his face away from his neck when he’s close. You can see it on his face, begging you to come first. He slips his metal hand down to your clit, stroking the already sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes widen at the coolness against it.

“Please come” He moans and it doesn’t take you long to oblige his plea, the metal hand on your clit, the whines from Bucky and his cock hitting you deep pushes you over the edge and you come, clenching him hard.

“You’re so beautiful” He says in awe. “Please can I come— please doll” Bucky’s thrusts are faltering.

“fill me up Bucky~” You moan and that’s all it takes, his thrusts become harder, your body jolting from the force, you’ll feel this in your hips in the morning. You could always heal it away. But you probably won’t. You place a hand over his neck holding it loosely, your other hand raking through his hair.

Bucky thrusts into you hard and deep, with hoarse moans of thank you as he comes inside you, filling you up. He simply stays inside you after, his body moving with his deep ragged breaths before he collapses on top of you, making sure to use some strength to stop him crushing you. You stroke his hair, muttering soft praises.

He rolls off you, his honey toned skin covered in a sheen of sweat that made him look godly. Your legs are jelly; you aren’t even sure you can use them for the next few days. Bucky stands and walks to your bathroom, giving you the perfect view of his sculpted ass and returns a few moments later with a warm wet cloth to clean you up with.

When the both of you are cleaned up, Bucky begins to wipe away the crushed pieces of headboard from your bed sheepishly.

“Sorry doll” He says quietly.

“It’s okay” You assure. “It was hot. Made me feel like Bella Swan” You joke.

Bucky looks at you, not understanding the reference.

“From Twi… never mind” You hum, helping to brush off the little pieces of wood. He lays back down and pulls you into his arms.

“Doll… I… I have never felt like that before. What did you do to me? I am under a spell when it comes to you.”

You yawn and let out a sleepy laugh. “You’re telling me. I don’t think I could sleep with a regular dude again after that”

It’s not long until exhaustion rushes through you. Super solider stamina is no joke. You drift off, head on his chest. Bucky watches the soft rise and fall of your chest, your soft snores filling the room.

And for the first time in what feels like forever; Bucky has a deep, dreamless sleep. His nightmares paused as he slumbers beside your soft, warm body.

It’s late when Bucky wakes up. Your side of the bed is cold. He glances at the clock on his phone, reading 11:07am, and a text from you, timestamped two hours ago:

‘Morning sleepy head. I didn’t wanna wake you. You looked too comfortable ;)’

He smiles at the text and looks for his clothes, only to find you must have taken a trip to his room to grab some fresh clothes. There is a towel on a chair with a new set of clean clothes and a pair of boxers.

When he’s all cleaned up and dressed he makes his way to the kitchen. You’re talking to Wanda, Steve and Sam.

“Bucky good morning!” Your sweet voice drifts over to him. “You slept in late. Are you feeling okay? Late night?” It’s an innocent question, no one bats an eyelash at it. You’re the healer of the team, and you’re concerned. But Bucky bites back a groan at the implications they both know is behind the sweet words.

Before Bucky can respond, Tony walks in.

“Hey Hippocrates” Tony calls out to you. “Why did F.R.I.D.A.Y tell me you needed a new headboard for your bed?

Oops.

-END-

[andvys]

Secrets I have held in my heart (are harder to hide than I thought)E.M.

⭐︎ Warnings: 18+, mdni! idiots to lovers, best friends to lovers, smut smut smut, lots of pining, mentions of unrequited feelings (they're not), slight angst, unprotected sex, breeding kink? kinda. alcohol and weed consumption. high sex?

⭐︎ Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

⭐︎ Word count: 20.4k

⭐︎ Summary: A weekend alone with Eddie at Steve's cabin reveals all yours and his deepest desires, feelings you were too afraid to act upon bubbling to the surface, leading to a steamy night that might change you and your best friend forever.

⭐︎ Author's note: I've been meaning to write a best friends to lovers with Eddie for a while now (especially after writing ikyllatk, if you know you know. this is Cheer and Eddie to me in a different universe hehe). @hellfire--cult and I went feral over this idea and we've been talking about this since foreverrrrr and here we are finally! thank you for inspiring me, love ♡

⭐︎ the library

divider made by @cafekitsune

The sun is beating down on your skin, kissing it with warmth as the cold water from the lake is still clinging to your body, making goosebumps appear as you shiver the slightest bit. Your eyes are closed, a content smile rests on your face, despite the way your blue lips tremble. Birds are chirping all around you, the trees rustle whenever the wind blows, the water splashes when your best friend makes his way out of the lake, cursing a few times when he steps over the sharp rocks on the ground. 

You don’t open your eyes just yet but you listen to him moving closer and closer to where you’re laying on the pink towel you threw on the grass earlier. You don’t have to take a look to know that he is staring at you, he always is. Like a weight on your body, his stare always feels like a warm blanket, heating up your insides and making you feel something you shouldn’t.

Eddie’s eyes are roaming your body, your glistening bare skin, the skimpy bikini bottoms that are only held together by the strings on the sides, the little bow coming undone slowly. He kneels down before you, making a gasp fall from your lips when the water from his hair drips on your belly and his cold hands touch your hip, fingers reaching for the strings so he can fix the little bow. 

You open your eyes to find him looking down with a smug smile as he plays with the strings on your bottoms, re-tying it for you. Your breath hitches in your throat from the touch of his hand and the closeness of him, if you were to sit up, your noses would bump together but you stay in place, only pushing yourself up on your elbows. 

“I’m sorry, sweets,” he chuckles softly, taking his sweet time as his fingertips graze your bare hip, “didn’t mean to get you wet,” he smirks, a look of mischief flashes in his eyes as water continues to drip from his body onto yours. 

“Are you sure?” You challenge him the way you always do, blinking at him innocently as you bring your knees up higher and bite your lip, making him gulp and blush instantly. 

You always know how to break him. 

Eddie is oh so confident and flirty, throwing looks and comments your way that are a little too suggestive for someone who is considered a best friend, but the moment you join in on his game, even if only subtly, he turns into a blushing mess, no longer the confident, cocky guy he wishes to be. 

But even when he turns into this, blushing and nervous, you can still feel that one certain energy radiating off him and it makes you squirm, it fills you with curiosity and the urge to cross that invisible line, your deepest desires, the ones that are locked away begging to be released. You never let them, you never even looked or paid attention to what you really wanted or craved. You played his game, you flirted back, you teased him but you never admitted to yourself that there was… something. 

“Hm, no,” Eddie murmurs, suggestively. He ties the knot, strongly and then, he hooks his finger around the strap, he pulls it back and lets it snap against your skin, making you jolt in your place, a tiny gasp falling from your lips once more as a bigger smirk appears on his face. His eyes roam your body, he takes you in fully before he leans back and plops down on his own towel, laying down, he places his arm behind his head, closing his eyes to the sun, he lets out a sigh of contentment, acting as though he didn’t just touch you the way best friends normally don’t do. Asshole. 

“This is nice, I’m glad we came out here.” 

You hum in agreement, taking advantage of the fact that his eyes are closed, you allow yourself to take a closer, better look at the man who had become your best and closest friend. He is attractive, very handsome, you aren’t blind, you never have been but he is your friend, you never allowed yourself to look at him a certain way but lately it’s become harder to stay so… blind, to not let his lingering touches make you weak in the knees, to not let his comments fill you with giddiness, to not feel something when he holds you in his arms, when he plays with your hair or places his hand on your thigh when you’re in his passenger seat. 

You don’t know where this sudden change has come from, it’s always been that way with him, from the very beginning, he’s been touchy and affectionate with you but it didn’t always make you so excited, it’s been a recent development, something that Nancy and Robin teased you about, they saw your reactions whenever he kissed your cheek and called you pet names, whenever he walked into a room only smiling the moment his eyes would meet yours. 

You never noticed it before, the feelings he left you with after all his sweet gestures and touches, only when your friends had brought it up to you, leaving you a blushing and a confused mess, did you start to open your eyes… a little, and suddenly things started to change, your reactions to his comments, no matter if they are flirty or sweet, your reactions to his lingering touches, the way his fingers would play with yours, the way they would drum against your skin, so very close to the hem of your skirt or your shirt, the way he would tuck your hair behind your ear or wipe the foam off your upper lip after taking the first sip of your morning latte before taking his thumb into his mouth and licking it off, moaning while doing so – what was normal before, suddenly wasn’t anymore, everything he did, everything he does now drives you crazy and leaves you yearning for more but you never dared to be the one to take another step forward, to cross that daring line, to make the first real move. 

He is still Eddie, your best friend, your soulmate, the person you don’t want to lose, especially over something like this, over reading into something that might not be there, over losing control of your own feelings. After all, this could all just be a part of… him. Maybe it’s just who he is, affectionate, teasing, flirty, daring. Maybe he is like that with everybody, not just you. 

But maybe not, maybe you are the only one and maybe, just maybe he is waiting for you to be the one to make another move, to take another step, maybe he has been waiting, maybe he has been waiting for a while now. 

You bite your lips so hard, you almost rip the skin open, your eyes are glued to his form, to the way his chest rises up and down, his wet hair a mess around him, lashes fluttering as his eyes are squeezed shut, your fingers itch to touch the ink on his pale skin, you lick your lips as your eyes follow his happy trail, mouth watering at the way his swim trunks are so low on his hips, his bulge so… god, you need to stop – but how can you? Your best friend is just so pretty. And his hands are so big, fingers so long and you have felt them on your skin before but you would be a goddamn liar if you said you didn’t think about them in other places. 

Your cheeks heat up at your own thoughts, though it doesn’t stop you from daydreaming some more and the longer you do, the more you start to lose yourself in them, wondering about all the different what if’s, wondering what would happen if you just made the move your friends have begged you to make, to be more daring, to be more teasing, to break him enough for him to do something you both clearly want. 

A bravery you don’t usually have, surges through your body, taking over completely. The urge to tease him back the way he teases you is so strong, so before you chicken out, before you think too much and too long, you reach behind you, undoing the bow he tied on your bikini top, you turn away from him and take the skimpy black thing off, throwing it down next to you, the cool breeze kisses your skin and if Eddie opened his eyes right now, he’d be met with the sight of your bare chest. 

You press your lips together and turn around, flipping your hair over your shoulder, you lay down on your stomach, stretching your arms out and letting out a sigh of contentment. You turn your head into his direction but close your eyes, even though you’re dying to see his reaction to you being topless but you are trying to play it cool, like it’s nothing. 

Eddie peeks one eye open after listening to all your movement and he almost chokes on his spit when he does, jaw falling slack, both eyes shoot open as he takes in the sight of you, of the skin that wasn’t bare only seconds ago – how, when, what?

He blinks, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted as he is gawking at you, at the way your boobs are pressed against the towel beneath you, at the softness of your skin, at the single drops of water still clinging to your body that he wants to touch oh so badly, your hair looks so shiny and soft, your face so content as you lay half naked next to him. 

Eddie’s cheeks heat up when he realizes that he would have seen you bare if only he opened his eyes a few seconds sooner. He licks his lips, nearly drooling over the sight of you. Suddenly, his trunks feel tighter than before when his mind takes him to places he only reserves for late nights when he is all alone and not afraid to risk to pop a boner. 

He tries to look away, he really does but he can’t, not when you look this hot. He allows his eyes to roam again and it only makes his case worse, his breathing quickens, his skin heats up, his hands itch to touch your soft skin, his lips long to trail kisses down your body, to have a little taste of you. 

If you were his, he would, he would start on your neck and he would kiss down to your shoulder and then your back, and he’d take it lower and lower until his lips would reach those skimpy panties, he’d take them off and taste you the way he always dreamed of, he’d lick a stripe up your pussy, suck on your clit, eat you out like the starved man that he is and he would get lost in your moans and your whines, in the pleasure that only he could make you feel. 

Eddie clears his throat, he nearly curses when he feels his dick twitching in need of you. He clenches his jaw, even more so when he sees your lips twitching into a smirk. Oh… Oh. 

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, his breath halting for a moment when he realizes what you did, you did this on purpose, you aimed to tease him. 

It’s not exactly something new, you being a tease but you have never taken things this far, you have never stepped up to his level. 

But now that you did… he can take things further as well, right?

If you decide to tease him like this, then he will tease right back. 

He pushes himself up, adjusting his trunks, he nearly lets out a groan when you wiggle your butt a little, pretending to get more comfortable. 

He bites his lip as he looks around in search for the sunscreen you have brought with you, he finds the bottle peeking out of your bag. He presses his palm on the grass beneath him, leaning over your body to reach for the yellow bottle. 

“What’re you doing, Eds?” You murmur, rather seductively

A smirk tugs at Eddie’s lips, the tone in your voice tells him that you believe you are in charge here and… maybe you are, right now, but he won’t let you win so easily. 

He chuckles lowly when a gasp tears from your pretty lips after he squirts the cold cream on your back. 

“Don’t want you to get burned, sweetheart,” he whispers, closing the cap of the bottle, he throws it on the ground before he lays his palms flat against your hot skin, spreading the white cream all over your back. 

You grow flustered and you start blushing, your breathing gets heavier and you visibly gulp when he starts massaging the sunscreen into your skin. You suck in a sharp breath when his hands move up to your shoulders, gripping you there for a moment before he moves back down, the coldness of his rings making you shudder a little. 

Eddie can’t even hide the smug look on his face after feeling your reaction, pride swelling in his chest when you sigh so beautifully because of his touch. 

You easily get lost in this, eyelashes fluttering, soft breaths and sighs falling from your lips as his strong hands move up and down your skin, touching you in ways that make you squirm beneath him. 

“Feels good,” you whisper as you arch your back a little, not knowing that just a small movement like this is enough to drive him insane, once again. 

“Fuck,” he curses softly under his breath, he swallows harshly. 

“What was that?” You ask, not hiding the smugness in your voice, very well. 

“Nothing,” he lies, “nothing, sweets.” 

“You sure?” 

He hums, shaking his head at your teasing, at the way you think that you will win the game that he started. 

Eddie moves his hands down to your sides, making sure to get the cream everywhere, so you won’t get burned, of course. His fingers dip dangerously low to the side of your boobs, and while it was only meant to tease you, to get a reaction out of you, he realizes that it was a mistake, only a little too late – it only makes his case worse when he feels just how soft and smooth your skin is that is usually hidden under all your clothes, when he feels himself craving to touch a little lower, to feel more of you, to make you feel–

“Mmmh.” 

Eddie freezes, hands halting at your sides, his big brown eyes widen and his lips part once again, he stares at the back of your head, stunned. 

You moaned at his touch, whimpered even, making those butterflies in his stomach feel stronger than ever. 

“Why’d you stop?” You mumble, wiggling your butt as though to tell him to keep going. 

Do you even know the power you hold over him? 

Do you even understand what you do to him? 

Eddie bites his lip, he bites hard, hard enough to taste iron. He sucks in a sharp breath, biting back the growl that threatens to fall from his mouth when he adjusts behind you, the rough material of his swim trunks rubbing against his dick. He is fucking rock hard and if you only turned around to take a look at him, you would see it. 

“I’m sorry, got a little distracted,” he says lowly, voice getting a little shaky. 

He feels so hot, and it’s not the sun that is making him sweat, it’s all you. 

He can see the way your lip twitches, the way your dimple shows when you smirk at his words. 

“Oh? By what, the birds?” You giggle. 

He chuckles, shaking his head at your question even though your eyes are still closed. He takes a moment to look at your surroundings, at the beautiful scenery, the trees and the big lake in front of Steve’s cabin – well, his parents cabin. 

God, he wonders where this weekend will take him, you and him. 

A weekend you were both supposed to spend with your friends, turned into this. Just you and him, and no one else. 

It’s only day one, and you are already close to making him cum in his swim trunks, like some pathetic teenage boy who couldn’t handle his crush’s teasing or touching. 

This will either be the best weekend of his life, or this might kill him – if you are only teasing, then this will surely kill him but if you are not, then he owes your friends a lot, for pretending to be sick or busy. He knows that they were lying when Robin fake coughed on the phone after telling him that she couldn’t make it, that she and Steve couldn’t make it, cause he got sick too… apparently. 

And Nancy forgot that she promised to help her mom with something, and if Nancy couldn’t come, then Jonathan couldn’t either of course – which led to Argyle staying back as well, cause where would he ever go without his best buddy? 

Eddie looks back down at you, at his best friend, who is laying half naked before him so comfortably, teasing him so freely. Another sigh escapes your lips and you squirm beneath him once again. 

Yeah, no matter how this will end, you will be the death of him. 

“Yeah, the birds,” he mumbles, snorting at his own words. 

He leans down closer to you, squeezing your sides which makes you jolt a little, a giggle falling from your lips. 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, eyes lighting up at the sweet sound, “I forgot how ticklish you are,” he teases, as if. 

“Mhmm sure you did, Eddie.” 

With a mischievous smile, he decides to take his teasing further, playfully digging his fingers into your waist, he begins to tickle you, making you yelp and jolt in surprise as you start squirming beneath his touch, giggles now falling freely from your mouth as his name rolls off your tongue so effortlessly, awakening those butterflies in his stomach. God, he wishes he could make you call out his name in different ways. 

You jump up, with your arms covering your front, one hand pressing against your boobs, hiding only just a little as you turn to face your best friend. You watch the way his eyes widen as they instantly fall to your chest, lust flashing in them, jaw dropping as his cheeks redden right this second, his expression makes you giggle even harder, even more so when you push him back and he falls onto the grass, flat on his butt, wet curls hanging in front of his hair. 

Eddie is so stunned by you, he can barely move as he stares at you, at your half naked form. God, you are so beautiful it hurts. 

The afternoon sun begins to turn golden, kissing your glowy skin and all your curves, your hair cascades down your shoulders, your hand that barely hides anything pressing against your boobs, he wishes it was his own. Licking his lips, he pushes himself up on his elbows, letting his eyes roam your body, shamelessly, dreaming about the way he would love to get between those delicious looking thighs of yours, the way he’d kiss every inch of your body, leaving no trace unmarked, the way he would nuzzle his nose into your neck and inhale your sweet scent, not playfully the way he usually does, but with a trail of kisses that he would leave behind. 

He would worship you in ways he can’t even begin to describe. Oh, how often Eddie finds himself up at night, working on yet another song about you, thinking of words that haven’t been created yet, strong enough to describe you. 

He feels uncomfortable in his swim trunks that are getting a little too tight, his skin feels on fire, not from the sun but from you. He lusts after you, yes, but there is also more than that, so much more. It isn’t just the lust that makes these feelings so intense, it’s all his deepest feelings for you, feelings that only his notebook filled with song texts know about… and maybe your friends, who aren’t as oblivious as you are. 

“I’m gonna take a shower, and you should too,” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. 

Eddie clears his throat, watching you get up, not bothering to pick up your top or your dress that you wore earlier, you simply keep your chest hidden by your right arm. 

“You’re helping me cook dinner,” you give him a pointed look before you turn around and begin to walk back to the house. 

Eddie smiles cheekily as he pushes himself up further, eyes glued to your butt now. 

“Are you telling me to get into the shower with you?” He calls after you, unaware of the butterflies that he caused in your stomach now. 

You don’t turn around, you keep walking, hiding the flustered expression on your face from him. You flip him off without looking back, biting back your smile when he laughs loudly. 

Eddie watches, craning his neck to see more of you, the way your butt jiggles as you skip up the stairs. He bites his lip, groaning at the sight of it. 

“Goddamn.” 

You will be the death of him.

-

It’s dark outside by the time Eddie comes out of the steamy bathroom, the cabin is mostly dark too, candles illuminate the living room and the sound of music fills the space. A smile lingers on his face as he makes his way down the hallway, his wet curls bouncing with each step that he takes, he throws on a clean shirt, his gray sweatpants hang low on his hips. 

A groan almost falls from his lips when he walks into the kitchen to you standing there in nothing but one of his shirts, now that sight is nothing new to him but it never fails to take his breath away, though usually you have on more than just the shirt. Your bare legs are glowy beneath the dim lights, from hours in the sun and that delicious smelling cream you always put on your skin after showering, you sway your hips to the music, shirt riding up in the process. Eddie can’t help but wonder if you are wearing any panties at all beneath his shirt. Fuck. He shouldn’t let his mind go there, you have done enough teasing for the day, he almost jerked off in the shower and maybe he should have, maybe that would have released some of the tension in him but he wouldn’t have been able to stay quiet, he never is. 

God, this really will be a long weekend filled with torture and teasing. He knows he should probably stop playing this dangerous game but he just can’t help but play into it. 

He slowly makes his way to you, you’re humming to the music, knife held in your hand as you cut up vegetables, an opened bottle of beer on the counter before you, your damp hair is braided loosely, falling down your back. He can smell your body wash from here, the sweetness of it – of you is so intoxicating to him, he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around your waist, pull you into him and bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhale your scent and kissing your soft skin, he craves it so very badly, even more so, he craves for it to be something normal. 

Eddie wants you to be more than just his best friend. 

Everybody knows it, everybody but you. 

And maybe it’s better this way, maybe he would lose you if you did find out. 

You might be a tease, you might let him touch you in ways no one else is allowed to, you might give him hope sometimes, the hope that you could feel more than just something platonic for him but at the end of the day you are still best friends and he can’t lose that, especially not because he can’t control his feelings. 

Because what happens when you do find out and you don’t feel the same? 

What happens then? 

What happens if it drives you away? 

What happens if he loses you? 

And he can’t allow that to happen, he can’t lose you, not you, anyone but you. 

Eddie knows he should do himself a favor and stop being so touchy and affectionate with you, it does him no good, if anything, it makes him want you even more but he can’t help it, he has to take what he can get… right? 

He comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist, he breathes in your sweetness, chuckling when you tense up for a second before a cute giggle falls from your lips. 

“You scared me,” you whisper, tilting your head back, you look up at him as you ease into his touch. 

“Sorry sweets, didn’t mean to,” he murmurs, teasing you with that pretty smile of his as he snatches a piece of the cucumber you’ve been cutting and bites into it, winking at you as he steps away again and takes a look into the large pot on the stove. 

“Pasta?”

“Pasta Arrabiata,” you say, imitating the Italian accent that Steve always makes whenever he is cooking. 

Eddie chuckles, “wow that was horrible.” 

“Shut up,” you giggle, scrunching your nose at him. 

If you knew how his heart flutters at your laughter and at your cute nose scrunches. 

“Since when do we put cucumber in pasta?”

The disgusted look on your face makes him laugh again, he leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he eyes you up and down. 

“I’m also making a salad, it’s for you, you need to eat more veggies.”

His lips curl into yet another smile, warmth blooms in his chest. 

You take care of him, you always do. From making sure that he eats enough when he gets a little too lost in writing songs or working on campaigns to making sure that he wears a hat and a scarf when it’s cold outside, whether it’s something small or big, you are always there to look after him, you’ve always been there. 

“Alright, I’m eating the greens just for you, sweets.” 

He licks his lips as he eyes every inch of your exposed skin, tracing your soft features with the longing look in his brown eyes. The way his shirt looks on your body, the way your hair falls in front of your eyes despite you tucking it behind your ear just moments ago, the way you bite your lower up as you give him a disapproving look. 

“No,” you shake your head, pointing your knife at him, “you gotta eat them for yourself.”

“Are you threatening me?” He smirks, closing the gap between you both again, you instantly lower the knife and place it on the counter. 

You shrug, teasing him with a sweet smile, “what if I am?”

Eddie licks his lips, inching closer and closer to you, a smile tugs at his mouth, he hums as he raises his hand up to your face, combing his fingers through your wet hair before he tucks the fallen pieces behind your ear again. 

He is unaware of the effect he has on you, of the fluttering in your chest, of the burning in your skin, of the shaky breaths you suck in. 

“Then I think that’s really hot,” he winks at you as he moves his hand down your neck and then your shoulder, sliding it down along your spine, lower and lower until he’s holding your hip and pressing himself against you as he moves onto your other side, slower than necessary. 

Your lips part in surprise, every trace that he has touched starts to burn, your knees grow weak and your heart starts beating faster – how much longer can you deny the emotions he causes inside you?

“So, how can I help?” 

He is teasing you, you can hear it in his voice, and you don’t have to turn around to face him to know that there is a smirk on his face. 

“Set the table, pick a movie to watch later, dinner is almost ready.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs into your ear before he walks away without another word, giving you a moment to take a few deep breaths. 

You take a sip of your cold beer, closing your eyes for a moment, you listen to your beating heart, you feel the goosebumps on your skin, you feel the rush of blood to your cheeks, the weakness you feel for your best friend. 

How much longer can you deny what is really inside of you, that it’s not just physical attraction? 

Your heart flutters when his deep voice sounds through the dining room as he sings along to the music, your lips curl into an adoring smile. You can hear him rummaging through the drawers, trying to find the table cloth you assume. 

Picking up the knife again, you continue chopping your vegetables, finishing up on your salad, though you quickly get lost in this… domestic energy you both have created. It feels so warm, so safe, so familiar. A feeling you can’t imagine sharing with anyone other than your Eddie. 

He comes back into the kitchen, humming, he grabs two plates and cutlery and places them on the counter before he passes by you, without a teasing smile or comment, he places his hand on your lower back, he reaches over your shoulder to retrieve two wine glasses from the shelf and steps away again, leaving the kitchen once more. 

It all feels so natural, so normal and yet, it makes you struggle to breathe because the butterflies in your stomach go wild – just the way they always do, but now it becomes harder and harder to not pay attention to them. 

You take another deep breath, willing yourself to calm down, to push aside your feelings, to keep doing what you did before… be unaware of what is buried deep within your heart. So, you move along and distract yourself with finishing cooking dinner, not allowing your mind to take you further into this pit of hell as you call it, because that’s what love and feelings are, hell. 

There is no good in love, there is no peace in having feelings.

It’s a rollercoaster ride that ends no matter how long it lasts, pleasant or not, it ends. 

And you refuse to let feelings get in the way of yours and Eddie’s friendship, he means too much to you to risk taking a step further into something that your stupid heart desires, you love him too much to let your lingering feelings ruin what you both have, besides… who is to say that he could feel something for you? 

You are his best friend and he is yours, that’s all you’ve ever been and it’s all you’ll ever be, best friends, nothing more or less, best friends who are affectionate with one another, who tease each other, who sleep in each other’s arms and do things that other best friend’s might not do… Though when you step into the dining room with the heavy pot in your hands, you halt in your tracks, freezing at the sight before you. 

The table is set but not like usual, it makes you struggle to keep pushing away those feelings that have been sneaking their way to the surface because why did he place the plates so close to each other when the table is so big? And why did he place candles on the table and light them up instead of keeping the lights on? And why did he change the channel on the radio? Why is slow music playing instead of the rock channel he usually settles for when there is no better option for him? 

You can handle his teasing, you can handle his touching, his flirting, his suggestive comments and looks he gives you so often. 

But this is something else, this is something that would have normally made you run, a table set up so romantically, a dinner that seems to become something intimate. Yeah, if someone else had set this up, you would’ve definitely ran, you would’ve felt anxious, suffocated. 

Those feelings don’t exist with him though, it’s quite the opposite, even with the lingering fear inside of you for what you feel for him. You feel giddy. 

“Picked the movie, sweets,” Eddie calls from the living room, snapping you out of your troubled thoughts. He enters the room with a grin on his face. 

You clear your throat and finally take the final steps to the table, putting down the pot in the middle, you glance at your best friend. 

“Yeah? What’d you pick?” 

“Something neither of us have seen yet,” he winks at you, moving closer and closer until he is right in front of you again. He grabs the chair and pulls it back, gazing down at you with his dark eyes, “sit.”

“I gotta get the rest of the food–”

“I’ll get it, now sit down, princess,” he murmurs. 

Whenever his voice gets so low, your knees feel like they’ll buckle at any moment, shivers run down your spine and your cheeks grow hot. 

“Alright,” you chuckle, plopping down on the wooden chair, you gaze up at your best friend, batting your eyelashes at him. 

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, there is not much you have to do to drive him crazy. 

“Smells really good in here,” he comments, the mouth watering smell of pasta sauce and garlic bread makes his stomach growl. 

“Thanks Eds, now get the rest of the food before it gets cold.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he winks at you, squeezing your shoulder before he turns around and makes his way out of the room and into the kitchen. 

You take a deep breath when he’s gone, rolling your shoulders and trying to calm your nerves, your heart is racing and it makes you feel ridiculous. You are here with Eddie, your best friend, Eddie. You got nothing to feel nervous about, you’ve been here plenty of times before, at dinner alone with him… though, it was never like this, you never had candle light dinners with slow music playing in the back. And his touches, his smiles, his voice never drove you this crazy before, he never made your heart flutter, his hands never made your skin feel hot, he never made you feel like you’d fall to the ground because your knees felt like jelly, he never made you feel those things before until recently… or did he? 

“I’m starving,” Eddie says dramatically as he places the salad bowl and the garlic bread on the table. Before he takes a seat, he opens the wine bottle and reaches for your glass, he glances at you as he starts pouring it in your glass, he notices your flushed cheeks and how fidgety you are in your seat as you eye him up and down, it makes his heart flutter. 

“We can’t have that,” you chuckle, reaching for his plate, you start filling it with salad first to which he protests, claiming that it will only make him starve even more. “You need some healthy food!”

“Not too much of it though,” he shakes his head as he lifts the lid of the pot, inhaling with a smile on his face, “I need that.” 

Your giggle makes his smile widen. 

“Alright.”

“You know I love your pasta,” he grins as he watches you fill the plate. 

“That’s Steve’s pasta,” you chuckle. 

“Nah, that’s his recipe, you cooked it,” he retorts, tilting his head to the side, “besides, you do it better.”

Warmth fills your chest and your cheeks, your smile gets even bigger now. 

“Don’t tell him that! He’ll be distraught!” 

“Don’t worry, it’s our secret,” he mumbles with a grin on his face as he finally takes the seat across from you, taking the plate from your hands when you hand it to him with a soft ‘thank you’. 

He waits for you to fill your own plate before he picks up the fork or even takes a sip of the wine you picked when you went grocery shopping together this morning. He leans back and takes a look around, your surroundings are so different than usual, so unlike the small apartment he recently moved into where you eat your dinners at his tiny kitchen table. He appreciates the home cooked meals you always bless him with and the way you always want to take care of him, it makes him feel warm, it makes him feel safe. 

Eddie wants to do the same for you, he wants to make you feel the way you make him feel but he believes that he can’t measure up, that he can’t give you what you give him, that he can’t provide you the same feeling of safety or warmth and maybe that is the sole reason why he hasn’t made a move on you yet, not because he is scared of ruining your friendship – god, he wants to ruin it so bad. But because you deserve more than he can give you, you deserve this, a big house with a stupid fireplace, a big garden, stability, someone who can take care of you, someone who can give you more than a small, shitty apartment, someone who can give you more than just the flowers he gives you or the pastries he brings you when you’re taking your lunch breaks at work. 

Yeah, your friendship is very precious to him, he is scared of losing you, every goddamn day he wonders if this will be the day where you don’t show up for him but it isn’t the reason for his lack of effort in fighting for what he actually wants, it’s the fact that he believes that you deserve better than him, someone less like him, someone more like… Steve. 

So he settles for loving you from afar, he tries to spoil you, he tries as best as he can. He teases you whenever he gets the chance to, he becomes giddy when you react to it, when you blush and giggle or even tease him back the way you did today, it sparks something in him, maybe it’s confidence or maybe just an illusion that you could feel the same, whatever it is, he basks in the feeling in those moments. 

His eyes soften and the beating of his heart becomes stronger as he watches you, the way you dig your teeth into your bottom lip, the way your beautiful eyes shine in the dim light, the light flush in your cheeks making you look so damn cute, the way your smile only widens when you glance at him, a small huff falling from your mouth. 

“What are you looking at?” You tease, putting down your plate before you. 

You. 

He always looks at you. 

Eddie knows he won’t have this forever, someday you will meet someone who will give you everything that he wishes he could, someday he won’t be the one sitting across from you enjoying your dinner, someday he won’t be the one in your life. 

“At your shirt, is it new… or?” He teases, acting like he didn’t just get lost in his head, thinking of your future that he might not be a part of. 

You look down at his shirt, smiling proudly, you stole it from him the last time you stayed over,  “mhm got it from this store called the drawer.”

Eddie snorts, though he adores the look on your face, “you’re so lame, the drawer? Really?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, picking up the fork you start eating happily. 

“Who sold it to you?” Eddie asks, squinting his eyes at you. 

“Oh, this uh… really handsome guy, said he’s in a band, corroded coffin?” You raise your brow, pretending to think. “Yeah, that’s what it was.”

Eddie’s stomach flips in excitement at the compliment. You’ve called him handsome plenty of times before, but it never fails to make him blush. 

“Damn, he sounds really cool,” Eddie says, laughing. 

You nod, a serious and adoring look now flashing in your features, no hint of amusement behind those eyes, no teasing, just pure adoration for him, “he is, he is the coolest actually.”

He gets flustered easily when he’s with you but when you look at him like this, with that sweet smile and those soft eyes, he doesn’t know what to do with himself, he doesn’t know what to say or how to act, so he hides his face by looking down at the delicious food in front of him, a sheepish smile resting on his face, one that makes your own even bigger. He finally takes a bite of the pasta and his eyes instantly close as he moans at the taste of it, making you giggle yet again. 

“Fuck me, yeah I’m sorry sweets, but I ain’t letting you get married, you’re stuck with me,” he jokes as he takes another bite, completely forgetting about all the anxious thoughts that swirled in his mind just moments ago. 

“Oh, you mean I’m stuck being your private chef?” 

“I wouldn’t call it that.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, chewing on the garlic bread slowly, you try to ignore the heat building up in your stomach as you look into his chocolate eyes, waiting for him to say that word.

“Oh, then what would you call it?”

Eddie looks at you through hooded eyes, a teasing smirk tugging at his plump lips.

“Housewife.”

A surprised giggle falls from your lips, though your cheeks start burning, especially under his gaze. Something tugs at your chest, something strong, something warm. Housewife. You never craved to be that, you never had such desires. Sure, you always dreamed of finding the one, finding true love, finding someone who will love you the way you can love, the way you always wished to love but that’s it, you never imagined yourself past the dating stage, you never daydreamed of weddings and a husband, you never thought of becoming a wife, a housewife at that but… when you think of yourself as that with Eddie by your side, with your best friend, with the one who had always been by your side through thick and thin, something in you beats a little stronger. 

You clear your throat, lowering your gaze to his ringed fingers, you can’t help but let your mind take you to sacred places. 

Eddie watches you intensely, eyes lighting up at the flustered state you are suddenly in, a state he only ever sees you in when he teases you with touches, with pick up lines, with his flirtations but never this. There is a little spark in him now, the sparkle of hope. 

“Well that would make you my husband.” Your voice is shaky, filled with nerves and something else that he can’t decipher at this moment. 

Oh, Eddie would put a ring on your fingers right this second. 

He never really planned his future, he never really saw one, especially not one in which he would be happy with a wife and kids by his side but he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t want these things with you. You make him crave things that were never even a thought of his before he met you, you make him want to be that for you, a husband. 

He doesn’t believe that he can give you what you want, what you need, what you deserve but he knows one thing for sure, if he was given the chance, he would make you so damn happy. 

“Would that be so bad?” 

You look up again and into his eyes, something in them is different now, something in the way he looks at you is so… intense and raw, there is a softness in them, one stronger than usual. 

Would that be bad?

You shake your head before you can even come up with the right words to say, or with words you should say. Something has changed, perhaps a long time ago or just now, but you know one thing for sure, your heart never beat this strongly before and your hands never itched to touch his so badly. 

You know the truth is hidden behind the walls you have put up, but that wall started crumbling a long time ago, long before you had the chance to even notice. 

The energy in the room has shifted into something more… intimate and it’s not the candles or the music, it adds to it, but those aren’t the main reasons, it’s the energy you both have created, it’s the lingering touches, it’s his foot touching yours under the table, not playfully like usual, it’s different, it’s all so different but it’s good. A comfortable silence takes over the room as you continue eating and as the seconds and the minutes pass, and you both sip on your wines, pouring a second glass, you both get a little bolder when the alcohol hits you. 

Your hands inch closer and closer to each other, your eye contact becomes a little more intense, making your breathing stutter and your heart skip several beats. 

And when he is done with his food, he pushes his plate aside and leans his elbows on the table, he clears his throat and takes a deep breath and then, he brushes his fingertips against your own before he envelopes your hand fully, taking it into his large one. 

You can’t describe the feelings rushing through you, he held your hand plenty of times before but until now, you never let yourself feel the rush of it, you never allowed yourself to pay attention to the electric feeling cursing through your veins but you allow it now, slowly… you allow it. 

“They’re really missing out, aren’t they?” You speak the first words that come to your mind as you stare into your best friend's beautiful eyes. 

Eddie looks around the dining room, shrugging when he looks back at you, his eyes roaming your face, his lips curl into a smile. 

“I don’t know, I kinda like it just being the two of us, we never really get the chance to be alone like this.”

You nod in agreement, “that’s true, I like it too,” you murmur before you reach for your glass and take a big sip of wine. 

“More wine and weed for us,” Eddie jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You roll your eyes playfully, setting the glass back down, you tilt your head to the side, “speaking of weed, wanna roll us a joint?” 

Eddie doesn’t want to let go of your hand just yet but he nods, he could use that relaxation anyways, maybe it will calm his nerves around you before he does something that he might end up regretting later on. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna clean this up first.”

You shake your head, “no, I can do it–”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says sternly, glaring at you, “I know I said housewife, I hope you know that doesn’t mean slave.” 

You can’t help but giggle at the seriousness on his face or in his voice, “Eddie, I hope you know that that’s exactly what most men think of when they want a housewife.” 

He frowns in disgust, scoffing at that, he begrudgingly lets go of your hand and pushes his chair back. 

“Well, most men are pigs who don’t even deserve a wife in the first place,” he says, getting up, he glares at you and points at you to stay seated. “You don’t have to do all the work, you cook, I clean up, it’s simple.”

A smile graces your features, you tap the table before you reach for the wine bottle, pouring yourself a third glass, “well then, whatever you say, husband,” you giggle and get up as well, holding your hands up in surrender when he gives you a warning glance, “don’t worry, I won’t lift a finger, I’m gonna grab my wine and wait for you in the living room.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs as he gathers the dirty plates, “sit your pretty ass down.” 

You definitely feel the wine in your system now, that fuzzy feeling and the slight dizziness feels so welcoming though. 

“Yes, sir.”

Before Eddie can stop his mouth from running, those words tumble out of his mouth just like that. 

“Good girl.” 

You nearly choke on your spit and trip over nothing, his words rush right to your core, your cheeks start burning hotter than before. 

Good girl. 

He called you a good girl, with that raspy, deep voice of his that never fails to make your insides crawl with need, that never fails to ring through your head when you’re in your bed with your hand between your thighs, imagining him and his voice calling you just that. 

You don’t know how you manage to keep your composure but you do, only allowing a soft giggle to leave your lips as you continue your way out of the dining room and into the living room, you round the corner and rush to the big couch where he luckily can’t see you, your knees almost buckle before you can even take a seat. 

You close your eyes and sigh out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Pressing a hand to your chest, you nearly gasp at the beating of your heart. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper to yourself. 

Eddie will be the death of you, you are sure of it, if not tonight then tomorrow, and if not then, then on the last day of your trip. 

The veil that was hiding all your truths was already being lifted when you were still in Hawkins, slowly everything was coming out, all the feelings you were denying, all the things you were so afraid of admitting, you lost control and power a long time ago. The moment Robin opened her eyes to what was there this whole time, the moment she confronted you about your feelings for him was the moment you could no longer hide. The veil is no longer there, it’s long gone and lost with the wind. 

You run your fingers through your hair and lean back into the soft cushions, taking a big gulp of the red wine that will surely give you a headache tomorrow morning, you keep your eyes closed for a moment, you begin to curse her out in your head because all your reactions to his words and touches just now only confirmed all her beliefs. 

Fuck Robin for saying all that shit to you that changed your feelings and opened your eyes completely, a month ago. Fuck her for telling you that you indeed have feelings for Eddie, for your best friend. Fuck her for making you start realizing it and be self conscious for it. Fuck her for making you feel scared of losing Eddie because of it. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, you open your eyes and look around the lightly dimmed room, you take in the sound of Eddie’s voice, of his humming to the music, of the way your heart flutters more and more. 

You are so fucked. 

You will ruin the friendship, you are sure of it. 

If only you knew that this is exactly what he wants. 

You keep yourself busy with your wine glass, staring into blank space as you continue letting your thoughts eat at you, letting the insecurities and the doubts creep in, when all you want to do is get lost in the feeling of what he gave to you at the dinner table, just moments ago. 

You are so lost in your head, you don’t even notice the music being turned off, you don’t even hear his footsteps or his voice until he is standing right before you after throwing a bunch of different snacks on the coffee table. 

“I know the munchies are gonna hit you,” your best friend chuckles as he finally sits down beside you, joint already between his fingers, lighter on the coffee table. He turns to you, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he offers you the joint. 

Yeah, maybe this will help, maybe this will relax you enough to get a grip on yourself again, maybe this will stop you from doing something that will make you regret. 

Your heart, your body, everything in you seems to be sick of living in denial though because before your mind can kill this moment, you are already moving forward, looking into his eyes, you lean down, closer and closer, you wrap your lips around the joint that is still snug between his fingers. 

The widening of his eyes, the parting of his lips, snaps you out of whatever had possessed you, though not enough, not even in the slightest. 

You raise your brows at him expectedly, waiting for him to light up the joint for you. 

The flush in his cheeks, the rosy color taking over his face, his squirming makes satisfaction rush you. 

You were teasing him all morning, all afternoon and every time you added one more, you wanted to risk more, but now things just have gotten out of hand, you got lost in your own little game and you let your feelings, your desires take full control of you. 

Poor Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself as he looks down at you, if it wasn’t for the alcohol in his system, he would lose all composure and stutter like a little kid around his crush. He manages to reach for the lighter and he never looks away from your pretty eyes or your lips, or the shirt that keeps riding up on your thighs, a little more and more. 

He lights the joint and he is surprised when you don’t look away, when your eyes stay locked with his and a satisfied moan escapes you – only worsening his case. You inhale deeply and furrow your eyebrows in concentration, a lazy smile spreads on your kissable lips and you lean back further after blowing out the smoke. You bring your knees up to your chest and hand him the joint. “That’s nice,” you sigh out in pleasure, “I needed that.” 

“You’re starting to sound like an addict,” Eddie smirks, hiding his blushing cheeks behind his curls as he takes the joint from your fingers and places it between his lips, unaware of the way you follow his every movement as he gets comfortable beside you, resting his feet on the table, he stretches his arm out and wraps it around the headrest behind you. 

“What… movie did you pick out?” You ask him and he doesn’t even notice your stuttering or the way your eyes are glued to his exposed skin as his shirt rides up, exposing his happy trail. 

Eddie shrugs, reaching for the remote, he glances at you, “I dunno, one of the movies Steve recommended we should watch.” 

“Oh?”

“Mhmm,” He nods and presses play before he throws the remote on the coffee table, “let’s see how good his taste is.”

“You already know he loves the cheesy shit,” you laugh and scoot closer to him with your wine glass still in your hand, you’re searching for his warmth. 

“Yeah, he does,” Eddie chuckles. 

He lowers his gaze to your thighs, noticing the goosebumps on your skin, he puts the joint into the ashtray and he reaches for the knitted blanket thrown over the couch, he spreads it open and covers your legs with it, “don’t want you freezing, sweets,” he murmurs. 

Your eyes soften for him, a smile spreading on your lips. You lean forward and place your wine glass on the coffee table and then you scoot closer to him and throw the blanket over his lap as well before you place your head on his chest, snuggling up against him with a content look on your face… beside the blushing on your cheeks. 

Eddie wraps his arm around you without a second thought – this is nothing unusual for you, neither is the hand holding, or the sharing of clothes or the intimate touches but everything you do today, that you usually do as well, feels so different, it makes him nervous, it makes you nervous, it feels like the first time. 

And when you place your hand above his heart, he grows anxious that you might feel just how strongly it’s beating for you, he is scared that you will figure out his feelings and that that will make you run, run from him. 

“Your heart is racing,” you whisper softly, causing him to tense up a little but when you press your chin against his chest and you gaze up into his eyes, he feels a sense of calmness bleed through him, safety. 

Eddie blinks, not knowing what to say without giving away the truth, without giving away just how much he wants to kiss you right now, how much he wants to make you his, how badly he wants to confess and get it off his chest. 

“Is everything okay?” Your angelic voice makes him feel weak, the candle light makes you look so soft, your scent makes him feel drunk, his lips yearn to touch yours, his heart screams for you. 

God, he really wants to kiss you so bad. 

And he wants to kiss you even more when he sees the way your own eyes flicker between his lips, his neck and his eyes. He tightens his hold on you, prompting you to scoot even closer as you lean your warm body into his as your hand slips down to his stomach, your nails grazing the sliver of exposed skin on his stomach, he nearly whimpers at the feeling. You truly know how to drive him crazy. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, lips curling into a smile, “everything is perfect.” 

Almost perfect. 

It would be perfect if he could just grab your face and smash his lips against yours, kissing you breathless. 

You bite your lower lip as you keep staring up at him, you look as though you want to say something, your eyebrows pull together whenever you hold something back, whenever you desire to speak up about something – he doesn’t pressure you to talk though, he never does, he gives you time, as always. 

His eyelashes flutter, his lips part in surprise when he watches you move closer to him, closer and closer until your lips are pressed against his jaw, you peck him once before you shyly pull away and bury your face in his chest, turning your attention back to the TV right as the movie begins to play and he is glad that you do, because his eyes widen the way they probably never did before and blood rushes to his cheeks, no doubt making him look like a tomato right now, his heart feels as though it will beat out of his chest at any moment. 

You were teasing him this morning, you were very clear about that, the smirk and the smugness on your face gave it away every time but you are no longer teasing now, this is different, this is something else, this is something new. 

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat and he takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly and shakily. 

He wonders if you know the effect you have on him, he wonders if you know how he feels for you, he wonders if you know just what he would do for you. 

“Pass me the joint?” He whispers, not recognizing his own voice due to how shaky it is. 

You do as he asks, pulling away for just a second, you reach for the joint and hand it to him before you settle back comfortably against his chest, pressing your cheek tightly against it. 

Despite the nervousness in him, he keeps his arm wrapped around you tightly, and he even takes it a little further, becoming a little bolder, he sneaks his hand under your shirt and lays his plat flatly against your warm back.

You sigh in contentment and curl further into him, welcoming the touch of his hand, especially when he starts rubbing up and down. 

“That feels so nice,” you murmur, moaning softly, “don’t stop, Eddie.” 

Of course it wasn’t the greatest move to make, of course it would backfire, of course he would be the one with the problem. It’s already not helping that you’re almost fully on top of him, hand underneath his shirt as your nails scratch against his skin and now you are moaning because of him. 

He places the joint between his lips and takes a long drag, needing it desperately. 

“Your hands always feel so nice, Eds.” The words tumble fall from your lips just like that, like you no longer find yourself caring about the consequences of your words or your actions, maybe it’s the alcohol and the weed in your system that makes you so careless and bold, or maybe it’s the reassuring touch of your best friend that gives you the confidence to let you say what’s on your mind. 

Eddie freezes, shocked he stares at the movie playing on the screen, his hand stops moving as well for a moment, he wonders if he really heard you right. You press against his hand again, wanting more. 

“And you don’t know what they can do, sweets,” he rasps into your ear, confidently and like he isn’t losing his mind over you. 

A whimper sounds through the room, your whimper. You try to conceal it by coughing into your hand but he heard it, and he felt how you tensed up at his words.

He swallows harshly, squirming beneath you, he tries his hardest to hold back that growl. His hand slips from under your shirt and down to your thigh when you lean forward to reach for the joint in the ashtray. 

“Rolling good joints?” You murmur, trying to hide your nervousness and how flustered you really are. 

Eddie can’t help but snort, mumbling a soft ‘sure’ to your question. 

Despite the tension in the room and your unwanted awkwardness, time keeps passing and the night goes on, the movie continues playing, moving into a direction that neither of you expected at the start of it – what begins with an innocent scene of the beautiful lead getting ready for her date with the guy she is keeping a secret, develops into something different, something more, something that should not have the effect on you that it does right now but when they start kissing in his car, slowly and sensually at first, her fingers buried in his long hair as his slip under her shirt, you can’t help but bite your lip. Your skin grows hot, your thighs clench together, your grip on his shirt tightens as your mind flips this scene into you kissing Eddie in his car. 

The wine was supposed to help, the weed too, but neither of them did, neither of them managed to give you the calming effect that you were hoping for, if anything both only heightened your senses and intensified absolutely everything in you, because suddenly, his body feels so much closer, his cologne so much more intoxicating than usual, his touch heating your skin on fire, his breath on your skin tickles you and those evil thoughts in your head make you wonder what it would feel like to feel his breath elsewhere, to feel his lips on your skin and his hands holding you tightly, keeping you in place as his lips touch parts of you only your hands did before. 

Your heart starts beating faster and you begin to lose composure, the rational voice in your head is gone for good, desire and need taking over now, a confidence you didn’t know you had rushing through you as you move your leg, pressing the heel of your foot against his shin. 

And while you are getting bolder, Eddie is trying his best to stay calm, to not act upon his feelings and ruin the one good thing in his life, despite the clear signs you are currently giving, he makes no move, even when he wants nothing more but to bury his face in your neck and suck on your skin until you are marked up by him. The smell of your perfume drives him insane, the feeling of your skin pressed against his makes his stomach flutter with no end near in sight, his heart hasn’t stopped racing yet. 

The blanket slips from your lower half, his shirt has ridden up on your body, revealing the panties you are wearing, the black lace resting so perfectly on your soft skin. He clenches his jaw at the sight of it, biting back the moan that wants to fall off his lips so badly. 

Something else flutters now, not just his heart or those butterflies in his stomach and it makes him so uncomfortable because he won’t be able to hide it, not right now. 

Soft moans fill the living room, along with the sounds of lips smacking together. You bite your lip even harder, hold onto him even tighter as your eyes stay glued to the screen, watching intently as the couple undresses each other slowly, their hands becoming more and more desperate on each other, whimpers getting louder. 

You are so lost in it, you let your body move on its own, your foot continues to slide up his shin and his knee, hip angling as you twist your body further into him. As the scene gets more and more intense, the thoughts in your head do too. 

The coil in your stomach grows, burning hotly, you are throbbing between your legs, growing wetter and wetter each passing second as you imagine yourself moaning like the girl on the TV – moaning for him, with him. 

Eddie is frozen in place, stunned at everything that is happening this very moment, not only is the scene very erotic but the moves you are pulling now are just about enough for him to get hard – and he can’t exactly conceal anything, not when he is wearing grey sweatpants and you are tightly pressed against him. 

Do you even know what you are doing to him? 

When Eddie shifts beneath you and his fingers dig deeper into your skin, you lower your head and tear your eyes from the screen to his lap and your mouth waters in an instant, eyes growing wide and the burning in your stomach only worsens. 

“Got a problem there, Eds?” You blurt out as you stare at the very prominent bulge.

He wants to crawl under the blanket and hide his flustered face but instead he rolls his eyes, trying to act cool, averting his gaze from you and back to the screen, pretending that it’s the girl in the movie that caused this. 

“I am just a man, leave me alone…”

A giggle escapes you, and you look up at your best friend to find him blushing furiously. His long lashes kissing his skin every time he blinks, his dark eyes shine so prettily, his lips are just so… so kissable. His neck is so perfect to be marked up by you. His dark hair cascading down to his shoulders so perfectly, but you want to make a mess of him. 

“Aw, poor man,” you tease him before you finally let go of any doubts, of any fears or anxious thoughts, you grab the joint from between his fingers and put it back on the ashtray and then, you lean back to him and do something that you always craved to do, you press your lips against his jaw, kissing him. 

His lips part in surprise, heart stopping for a moment, he stares into blank space now as you repeat the motion, pressing your lips against his skin again and again, humming in contentment. 

His legs feel like jelly and if he wasn’t sitting down already, he surely would’ve felt his knees buckle at this electric touch. Words can’t describe the feeling of this, of you. He imagined this so many times, your lips on his skin, just the imagination of it had him feeling giddy but this, he can’t even function. 

You move closer and closer, your hand finding the chain around his neck, your breath kissing his skin, you gaze up at him with those pretty eyes that could make him do anything you would ask for. 

“Sweetheart, what are you doing…?” He finds his voice again. 

You shrug, looking at him innocently, “I don’t know, I just want to kiss your face, is that so bad?” You ask before you lean in again, not waiting for an answer from him, you press your lips back against his jaw, finger hooked around his chain and your other hand moving from his chest and up to his hair, giving it a slight pull. 

Eddie’s eyes flutter closed, the soft smile that rested on his features before slowly falling now. He clenches his jaw when you kiss it again and again, his heart races like crazy now, the feelings in him, the love he feels for you bursting in him as he finally gets a taste of what things could be like if you were his girl. 

You light up a fire in him, but make him weak at the same time, you make him feel safe but he also burns for you, he desires you in ways he wasn’t even aware existed, only a taste of this, of you, could kill him because if he can’t have you again after having you once, he surely will die slowly and torturously as he forever will be reminded of this, of what could be. 

He breathes in shakily as his hands fall to your waist, gripping you tighter than ever before, it takes everything in him not to grab your face and kiss you senseless but it takes even more to stop you. 

He wants this, he wants you so bad, he wants to keep feeling your lips, your touch, you. 

But what is this to you? 

His hand moves up to the back of your neck, he wraps his fingers around it, pulling you away softly with a deep inhale.

“Don’t do this to me now, darling,” he whispers weakly, not caring about how vulnerable he sounds, how vulnerable he must look right now. 

You ignore his pleading, and you move closer again, straddling his thigh as you wrap your arms around his neck, you look into his eyes as you inch closer and closer to him, no longer caring about anything. You kiss his cheek softly and then the other, noting the soft sigh falling from his lips, the grip of his hand on you becoming tighter and stronger. 

Eddie is breathing heavily now, he doesn’t even know what to do with himself as your lips are so close to his own. 

“You’re killing me here, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

You pull back to look at him, taking in the intense emotions flashing in his eyes as he stares at you with nothing but hunger, his eyes flicking back and forth between your lips and your neck. 

“Why?” You whisper innocently as you lean in again and without thinking, you press your lips to the corner of his mouth. 

Eddie’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, a curse word falls from his lips as he clenches his jaw again. 

“Because I’m trying to hold back.” 

“Who says I want you to?” You ask softly and he opens his eyes again, tilting his head to the side, he furrows his brows at you. 

“Don’t do this to me, baby, you know how bad I–” 

The brush of your knee against his bulge as you throw your leg over his thigh completely leaves the words stuck in his throat, you straddle him the way you only ever did in his dreams. 

“How bad you what?” You whisper as you slowly lean your forehead against his, letting your lips brush against his own as you gaze into his eyes. 

You can see the way he is holding back from doing what he wants, what you both want, so you give him a little push. You nuzzle your nose against his, giving him that soft look that gets you anything you want, that makes him weak. 

If only you knew just the feelings you cause inside of him. 

Eddie takes a deep breath, he shuts down all the racing thoughts in his head and finally, he cups your cheeks, holding your face gently. 

“Oh, fuck me,” he whispers and smashes his lips against yours, kissing you finally. He pushes all his fears and his insecurities aside, not wanting to dwell on them any longer, not wanting to think of them now when he gets the chance to do this and your whimper, that needy little sound that comes from you when you kiss him back only fuels his need to kiss you harder and deeper. 

You press yourself against him, wrapping your arms around him tightly, you bury your fingers into his curls, taking a fistful of his hair as you move your lips against his, slowly at first. You get so lost in it, loving the way it feels to kiss his lips, to kiss your best friend. It’s everything and more than you imagined it to feel like, it feels so perfect, so right, so safe. You let yourself fall into him, melting into his embrace as his hands move down to your waist, holding you tightly the way you do to him. 

The sound of your sighs and moans, lips smacking and the movie still playing in the back, whimpers coming from the girl on the TV makes it all a little more intense, because the burning in your thighs becomes unbearable, the feeling of his tongue brushing against your lower lip as he pushes you down against his bulge has you aching and yearning. 

To Eddie this feels like a dream, like it’s something not real, not even close to being real because this is something that only ever lived in his mind, whether he was just thinking about you at work, while writing songs, while sitting next to you or while getting off in the middle of the night, this was only ever a dream but now it isn’t. The kiss is real, your moans are real, your body is truly pressed against his, you are sitting right on top of him, slowly dragging your hips along his aching dick and it feels so fucking good, better than he could ever even dream of. 

Everything in him burns for you, his heart, his soul, every cell, every organ, you are like a drug to him that he was already addicted to before he even tried it, but now? He is gone forever. A kiss that could lead to nothing, that could only stay this, a kiss, perhaps a mistake for you that you will regret come morning, enough to break him. 

What is it gonna be? The kiss that will lead to the start of something his heart screamed for since the very beginning? Or will this be his kiss of death? 

He has to be sure, he needs to be sure so he pulls away, begrudgingly so, he pulls away from the kiss that he never wants to stop, breathlessly, he opens his eyes to look at you for the first time after this change between you both but you are not having it, leaning in with a whine, you peck his lips again, making his heart flutter. 

“Baby–” You cut him off by kissing him again, desperately and he once again has to pull away reluctantly. 

“Baby, hear me out first, fuck–” he groans when you peck his lips again, whining at him in a way that has him clenching his jaw but this time, he cups your cheeks and pulls you away from him and you finally open your eyes and look at him, pouting at him with a needy look on your face. Fuck. “Fucking hell, wait– you need to tell me if you really want this or if its the alcohol and the weed talking.” 

You shake your head wildly, grabbing his wrists as you lean closer again, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his chin and finally his lips again, the way you always desired to, the way you always dreamed of, the way you always denied yourself of it when it’s all you ever wanted. 

“Is it the alcohol and the weed talking for you?” You murmur against his lips, looking at him through hooded eyes. 

With a frown he shakes his head, “fuck no, I’ve wanted this for so long, sweetheart, you have no idea for how long.” He admits openly, not caring about being vulnerable right now, about admitting his feelings for you – the friendship is ruined now. 

Your lips twitch, eyes shining with nothing but love for him, for your best friend, your heart bursts in your chest, everything in you calms down yet screams in joy. You can see the anxiety in his eyes, the fear that lingers within him, you want to take it. 

“Good, then we’re on the same page,” you whisper happily, nuzzling your nose against his. 

Eddie blinks, staring at you, stunned. A shaky breath falls from his lips, his heart has stopped beating for a moment, the world has stopped moving, time has stopped. He had dreamed of this for so long, fantasized about what it would feel like to kiss you, to touch you, to hold you, to love on you but he had never thought of this, simply because he never thought it would happen, that it would be a possibility, you feeling the same. He thought he was doomed, cursed to spend his life loving you from afar and watching you slip through his fingers as the years would pass, he would love you while you would love someone else, while you would build a life with someone else, he would stay your best friend, the obsessed, lovesick best friend who would never move on, the best friend who would choose you over and over again even if he was given the chance to be loved by someone else, he would never love anyone the way he loves you, his heart belongs to you, fully. He is yours, he had always been yours but he never thought that you could be his, no matter how many nights he spent wishing for it. Life had never been kind to him so why would it grant him the highest wish he has? And yet, here you are, looking at him as though he hung the stars and the moon, as though he is the best thing that was ever created, like he is something pure, something beautiful, something worth loving. Have you always looked at him this way? 

His eyes start burning as his heart starts beating again, the warmth he felt because of you, turning into burning desire, the desire to claim you like he had always wanted to, to rip his heart from his chest and give it to you. 

You whisper his name sweetly, grabbing his hand softly, you move it down your shoulder, your chest and finally placing it above your beating heart. 

“All for you, baby.” 

His breath hitches in his throat, his eyes flicker between your face and his hand, feeling the racing of your heart that matches the beat of his own. His eyes soften, love taking over the lust that was flashing in them just moments ago. He doesn’t know what to say, the words are stuck in his throat, he is speechless. 

You can see it, you can see the shock in his eyes, he stares at you like he wonders if this is real or not. He is breathing heavily, blinking slowly, his lips part, cheeks flushing. 

“Eddie–”

Suddenly, he moves forward and grabs your cheeks again, slamming his lips against yours roughly, desperately. He kisses you hotly, strongly, more intensely than he did before, like he is scared that you might slip away if he doesn’t do it this way. 

You throw your arms around his neck again, whining needily into the kiss, you part his lips with your tongue and slip it into his mouth, deepening the kiss further as you grind your hips against him, making him moan against your lips as he holds you stronger, gripping you tightly as though he is scared that you will slip away if he doesn’t. 

This kiss is much hungrier than the first, so much deeper and intense, it’s filled with a desperation that was pent up for a long, long time – not weeks or even months, but years. He waited for years for this, you can feel it and your heart races wildly for him. The need to show him just how much you want him too, how you reciprocate his love burns so deeply within you. 

You grind your hips against his, feeling just how hard he is for you, the ache between your legs becomes worse, unbearable, and he can tell, he can feel by the way you move your hips, by the sounds of your needy whines. 

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself, never had he felt such desperation before, such an overwhelming amount of love. He feels stuck between wanting to cry out of pure happiness while making love to you and devouring you vigorously as he shows you just how much he needs, wants you. 

His ringed fingers dig into your waist and he begins to push you off of him, guiding you down against the soft cushions without breaking the kiss, he groans against your lips when you spread your legs for him, tugging him on top of you before he can even do it himself. God, you truly want him just as much.

Eddie slides his hand up your body, cupping your cheek once more, he continues kissing you, clashing his tongue against yours, making you mewl as he takes control and grinds against you, a movement that tears out a different kind of sound in you, a whine so needy that it sends shockwaves through his body. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathes against your lips heavily as he pulls away from the kiss and opens his eyes to reveal just how dark they are now. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, causing your shirt to ride up in the process, your panties exposed to him now. 

He clenches his jaw, trying to control himself but it’s becoming so hard when you are under him like this, looking up at him with those needy eyes as you grab each side of his neck, leaning up to kiss him, again and again, pecking his cheeks and his lips before you trail the kisses down to his jawline. 

“I need you so bad, Eds,” you whisper into his skin, moving your hand down his shoulder and his arm, fingernails grazing his goosebump covered skin, you take his hand in yours and bring it back down to your body, placing it on your chest, “please?” You ask in desperation. 

He takes a deep breath, making his heart flutter and his body burn when he grabs at your boobs for the very first time. 

“Please what?” He murmurs as he presses you down again so he can latch his lips onto your jawline. “Tell me what you need, sweet girl. My fingers, my tongue… or my cock?” He surprises himself when those words fall off his lips when he doesn’t even know how to function at this moment. 

You shut your eyes and bite your lip when he kisses down your neck, finding your sweet spot with no struggle, he starts sucking. 

“Mmm, y-your fingers,” you whimper as you take his other free hand and guide it down your stomach slowly, “want your fingers, Eddie and then your cock.”

He could cum right here and there, he had dreamed of this too many times. 

“Yeah?” He rasps against you, still kissing your neck, “you want me to fuck you with my fingers first?”

You nod wildly, bringing his hand down to your laced panties, you spread your legs further, grinding against him needily. You are so wet, having soaked through your panties already. 

“I-I always think about you when I touch myself, I imagine it’s your fingers instead of mine,” you admit with burning cheeks. 

Eddie opens his eyes widely, leaning back from your neck after marking it up, he looks at your blushing face. 

“R-Really?” He stutters, though with a satisfied look on his face. 

Through hooded eyes, you look at your best friend as you nod shyly, humming. 

“Guess we got something in common then,” Eddie smirks as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, he pecks your lips as he slips his fingers down between your legs, finally, cupping your pussy, he presses against your wetness, growling at the feeling. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.”

“I always am for you!” You whine, desperately grinding against the heel of his hand. 

His cock twitches at your words, stomach tensing up. 

The thought that you might’ve been sitting next to him during movie nights, squirming because of him, waiting to go home so you could touch yourself while thinking of him drives him insane. If he had known… he could’ve done this way sooner. 

Eddie pushes your panties aside, dipping his fingers through your folds, he makes both you and himself moan. 

“Don’t tease,” you whimper, bucking your hips and pressing yourself against him as he teases your entrance. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Eddie says as he brings his digits up to your clit, “can’t believe you’re letting me do this.”

While the shocked look on his face and the disbelief is cute, you can tell what is going on – what went on in his head all this time that he thought that his feelings would never be reciprocated. 

You grab his face and smash your lips against his again, kissing him just as roughly as he kissed you the second time, you try to show him, to make him feel what had been there all this time, and he welcomes it so happily, kissing you back right away while his fingers continue to move against your clit, teasingly at first, intensifying the aching inside of you. He licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours as he moans needily, getting lost in the feeling he had craved for so long.

His stomach flutters when you wrap one leg around his waist while rolling your hips, wanting and needing more, he can feel you getting wetter and wetter, moans getting louder, lips moving sloppier. He slips his fingers lower, dipping his middle finger into you slowly, inching it inside of you, pulling the neediest sounds out of you as you clench around him already. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your mouth, “you’re so tight.”

“More!” You demand with a whine, making him chuckle. 

“More huh? One finger not enough for you, sweets?” He asks to which you shake your head, furrowing your brows when he adds a second finger, scissoring them inside of you as he opens you up. 

“No, I-I want more,” you whimper at the feeling of him splitting you open, preparing you for his dick, just the thought of it has you drooling already. “I need–” the words die on your tongue and you quickly forget what you even wanted to say when he starts fucking you in slow but deep movements. 

“You need what, hmm?” He taunts you, unable to hide the satisfied smirk on his face as he watches you fall apart beneath him, losing your mind over just his fingers as your jaw falls slack and those sweet sounds begin to fill the room along with the squelching of your pussy. “God… You’re so fucking wet.” Eddie doesn’t even know what to do with himself, his heart is beating like crazy, his cock is aching in his grey sweats that feel way too tight by now, pre cum already leaking through the thick material, something he should feel embarrassed about, but he can’t, not when you look him up and down like you’re some hungry and feral animal in heat. 

“All because of you, I’ve been wet all day!” You whine as you grab at his hair when he buries his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your skin as he covers you in love bites. He growls against you, loving those words a little too much. 

His wrist starts moving faster, fingers splitting you open, he fucks them in and out of you. 

“Do you fuck your tight little pussy like this too?” 

Your brows are scrunched together so tightly, eyes rolling back when he curls them inside of you, hitting just the right spot to make you cry out. 

“N-No! Not t-this good!” 

You roll your hips against his hand, craving to feel him deeper. Your hands are all over him, his hair, his shoulders, his back, gripping at his shirt as you hold on for dear life while he sucks on your neck and fingerfucks your sopping pussy. The room is filled with such dirty sounds, something that should leave you a blushing mess, something that should leave your cheeks burning in embarrassment but you cannot bother to care, it just feels so good and Eddie fucking loves it. 

He pulls back to look at you, to admire your face and those marks he left on you, proudly he looks down at you, a look of love, a look of lust flashing in his eyes. He watches the way you bite your lip, eyes open widely again, you admire him too. And then, you push yourself up on your elbow, pecking his lips before you look down at his hand, wanting to see, wanting to watch his fingers moving in and out of you. 

“You like that, huh?” He mumbles as he presses his forehead against yours, “you like being fucked by your best friend like this?” 

You whimper again, louder this time as you nod, clenching around his fingers so tightly that he can’t help but growl – how is he going to last? How will he be able to control himself not to cum the second he enters you? 

Everything becomes so much hotter, the air around you, the energy in this room, his body against yours, his fingers inside of you, the coil in your stomach, everything starts burning and somehow, it only fuels the need in you. 

You grab at the hem of your shirt and push it up to your collarbones, exposing your chest to him, your boobs bounce as you throw your head back against the pillow to see him better and his reaction does not disappoint, if you weren’t so lost in pleasure you would have giggled at the awestruck look on his face, at the wide eyes and the parted lips. 

“Baby,” he whispers as he presses his large hand to your now bare waist, slipping it upwards slowly, “you’re unreal, fuck… you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as though in disbelief, staring down at you as though you are something that came straight out of his imagination. He grabs your boob roughly, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he leans down and wraps his lips against the other, wasting no time to suck on it, making you arch your back against him as you throw your hand into his curls, fingers grazing his scalp as you give it a harsh tug, something that he fucking loves. 

“I-I… oh my god!” You whimper as tears begin to pull in your eyes when he presses his thumb to your clit, teasing you. “D-Don’t stop! Don’t stop, Eddie! That feels so good!” You nearly scream as he starts moving his fingers faster than before, fucking them in and out of you roughly. You are clenching around him, digging your heel into his ass as you move along to his thrusts. 

He looks up at you, loving the sight of you coming undone before him, it’s the prettiest sight to him. He can’t wait to watch you fall apart beneath him when he actually fucks you. He licks around your nipple, adding more pleasure to your body. 

“Eddie!” You writhe beneath him, blinking the tears away as you look down at him. Your stomach tenses up, burning as the pleasure builds up more and more, almost becoming unbearable, everything inside of you is lit on fire, absolutely every part of you. Your toes curl, your knuckles turn white from how rough you are grabbing at his curls, the sounds that fall from your mouth are almost not recognizable, sounding too pornographic but you have never felt anything like this before, especially not from just being finger fucked. 

Eddie pushes himself back up, straightening his back, he slides his hand further up your chest, passing your collarbones and settling around your throat, he tests the waters at first, needing you to be okay with this – he watches the way your eyes darken at this, lips parting as you push yourself up on your elbows, you bring your hand up to his wrist, wrapping your fingers tightly around it, you press it harder against your throat, asking him to choke you. 

Eddie laughs darkly, lips curling into a satisfied grin, he shakes his head at you, “of course you’re into that shit. You’re a naughty girl aren’t you?” 

It takes you a moment to answer his question because the view before you is just a little too distracting. Eddie hovers over you with one hand between your thighs, knuckle deep buried inside of you while his other hand is now wrapped around your throat, rings on, veins popping out of his tattooed forearm, dark curls falling in front of his face as he looks down at you like he wants to devour you but make love to you at the same time. 

God, he is beautiful. 

Your eyes move down his body, the wet patch on his sweatpants, the bulge making you drool, making you want to drop to your knees for him, worship him, choke on him, suck the soul out of him. You can’t help yourself, moving your hand down his stomach, you grab his dick, wiping the smirk off his face completely as he moans loudly. 

“F-Fuck, sweetheart.”

You palm him through his sweats, teasing him the way he teased you, though Eddie is less patient than you are. His hips stutter, a whimper falls off his lips so prettily and you almost tease him for it but he curls his fingers so deeply inside of you, presses his thumb against your clit so strongly that your vision blurs for a second. 

“Eddie… Eddie!” You say his name twice, pressing your hand stronger against him, you hook your fingers around the band of his pants. 

“D-Don’t tease me or else I’ll cum right this second,” he growls as his cheeks start burning at his words. 

“Don’t do that,” you warn as you push his pants down just enough, his dick slaps against his stomach, precum leaking out and rolling down his length, his tip an angry red, thick veins so prominent. Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of him, of his size, his length. 

Eddie looks down at you with burning cheeks and begging eyes, he feels the way you clench around his fingers, feels how you soak his digits. 

You look at him intensely, watching him fall apart at nothing but the touch of your hand, his eyelashes flutter, a content sigh falling from his lips when you wrap your fingers around his length, “your cock is so pretty, Eds,” you purr, jerking him off slowly, you tease him a little, “I want to choke on it.”

His hips stutter, cock twitching in your hand as he whimpers at your words, “fuck… you can’t just say that to me.”

You pull your hand away from him, holding it up to him, “spit.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, eyes darkening further but he complies, right away, he spits into your hand and watches the way you bring it back down to his dick, wrapping your fingers around him again, you grip him just perfectly, jerking him off in a way that he only ever dreamed off. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he moans, clenching his jaw in concentration, his eyes moving back and forth between your glistening pussy and your hand getting him off. “I-I won’t last long,” he warns you, wanting to get lost in the pleasure, but even more so, he wants to feel you wrapped around him. 

With your free hand, you tug at his wrist, needing to feel his lips on yours again and without wasting a second, he slams his mouth against yours, kissing you roughly as he takes full control, parting your lips with his tongue, he moans into your mouth when you clench around his fingers again. 

The room is now filled with heavy moans, no longer coming from the TV but from you and him, desperation so clear in both your voices, lips smacking against one another so needily and the alcohol, the weed in your systems only makes it all a tad bit more intense. 

As much as Eddie is enjoying the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, he has to stop you or else he will cum before getting what he actually wants. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs against you, lips twitching when you already whine in protest, “baby, I-I fuck… I need you stop or else I’ll cum too fucking soon.”

You pull away begrudgingly, wanting to pout at him but he quickly distracts you by speeding up his fingers inside of you. Letting go of your throat, he brings his now free hand down to your clit, wasting no second to play with your sensitive nub while he curls and slams his fingers in and out of you. 

A gasp falls from your lips as he repeatedly brushes your sweet spot, the one that allows you to see stars. A single tear slips down your cheek, one that he instantly kisses away. You want to look at him, you want to watch your best friend but the pleasure becomes too much and you can’t help but shut your eyes tightly. Your stomach burns in a way that has you whimpering and when you try to close your legs to relieve that pleasurable pain, he grabs your knee and stops you. 

“I can feel you clenching around my fingers, baby,” he murmurs hotly against your lips, “I know you want to cum, so let go for me,” he whispers, “let go.” One more swipe against your clit, one last thrust, one more kiss to your neck and you come undone for your Eddie, leaking around his fingers as your body trembles beneath his. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper. 

He slows down his movements, looking down at your legs to see them shaking, just from this. He lets you ride out your orgasm, giving you a moment to catch your breath. He kisses your face, your cheeks, your forehead, your jawline and your lips. And then, he pulls his fingers out of you, his mouth waters at the sight of your slick, wasting no time to bring his digits up to his lips, he dips them on his tongue, closing his eyes at your taste, he moans loudly. 

You open your eyes at the sound, stunned, you stare at him in hunger and lust, watching the way he laps at his fingers that were inside of you just seconds ago. His eyes are closed and he looks content. If you hadn’t been so feral already, you definitely would have been by now. 

“You’re even sweeter than I thought,” he mewls after releasing his fingers with a pop, opening his eyes to look down at you with a smirk. “I can’t wait to take my time and eat your pussy.” 

You grab him by the chain around his neck, tugging at it harshly, you’re surprised it doesn’t break by the force, you pull him back down against you and kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

Eddie smiles against your lips, loving the way you moan at your own taste. He feels your hands sliding down his back, tugging at his shirt, demanding him to take it off and he does so instantly, only breaking the kiss for a second so he can tear it off his skin before his lips are back on yours, his pants are next to go as you push them down further, with your help he kicks them off, not caring where they land. 

He hooks his finger around your ruined panties, he begins to tug at them and you push your hips up so he can take them off, dragging them down your legs, he throws them to the ground beside his clothes before you both pull away from the kiss to take off the shirt that is still bunched up over your chest. 

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, looking at you in awe and then, his lips return to you and he places his elbows on either side of your head, pressing his chest against yours as you wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him closer and closer until nothing separates you any longer, until he feels your heat against his aching dick and he is so close, so close to getting what he wanted, until he remembers. 

“Fuck,” he curses in annoyance, clenching his jaw already as he breaks the kiss, “wait…” But you don’t listen, cupping his cheeks, you make it even harder for him when you keep kissing him, pleading for more. 

Frustration bubbles up inside of him and he almost wants to cry. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, shakily. “Wait, wait, wait…”

Finally, you pull away, eyes filled with curiosity, “what?”

“I don’t–” he cuts himself off, rolling his eyes as he clenches his fists and closes his eyes for a moment, “I don’t have a condom,” he says through gritted teeth, feeling dejected but then he feels you pull him closer again, cupping the back of his neck, you press your lips back against his.

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control and I’m clean,” you whisper, pressing your heel against his bum, “I waited too long for this, so don’t stop… please, Eddie.” 

A growl threatens to spill from his lips, the feeling of frustration is suddenly replaced by something else, not only the need he had felt for so long but something else, something much stronger, something that has him fighting his inner demons. 

He opens his eyes, staring at you as though you had gone crazy. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, sweets?” 

You giggle so cutely at that, in a way that makes him want to pound you into this couch until you are nothing but a screaming mess. 

“I have an idea,” you admit smugly, batting your eyelashes at him as your eyes flicker back and forth between his tattoos and his lips, hand already moving down his stomach, fingers reaching for him, you bite your lip as you look into his eyes, he is staring at you so intensely that it makes you blush. You wrap your fingers around his length again, mewling when you guide him through your wet folds, teasing both you and himself. 

Eddie grips the pillow beneath your head, cursing at the feeling. You can tell that he is trying to control himself, trying to keep his composure but he is losing it quickly when he feels your heat, your wetness. 

With your free hand, you hold onto his bicep, looking up at him with begging eyes, “please, fuck me, Eddie,” you whisper as you tilt your head up to kiss his lips, “show me how bad you want me, don’t hold back… please–” 

With a growl, he lets your words die on your tongue, replacing your hand with his own, he guides himself to your entrance, nudging it with the leaking tip of his cock, he presses his forehead and his lips to yours as he thrusts inside of you, torturously, splitting you open around his length. 

His heart could burst for feeling you so close, so intimately, his love for you burning stronger than ever, the immortal flame getting bigger and bigger, his body feels on fire, his soul feels at home and now he knows you feel the same, when you hold him close and you kiss him so passionately, tightening your legs around his waist in order to feel him closer, whimpering into him in such a needy way while you keep grabbing at him like he isn’t close enough despite being pressed against you, he knows you feel the same, in every way. 

He pushes into you deeper and deeper, scrunching his eyebrows in concentration as he feels you fully, working you open with nothing between you. He feels your warmth, feels your heat around him, your wetness dripping down onto the couch beneath you as fills you up completely. He never felt anything like this before, he never thought he would but god, he is already addicted, he had always been to you but now even worse, he will never be the same again, he will come back to Hawkins a changed man. 

“Fucking hell, darling,” he growls against your lips as he stills inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust to his size and himself a moment to concentrate so he doesn’t ruin this by coming too soon, though the thought of filling you up with his seed drives everything in him crazy, he wants it, craves it so bad. “You feel so… so perfect.”

You’re wailing, squirming beneath him, already looking down, wanting to see your bodies connected as sensitive whimpers escape your mouth. 

“Y-You’re so big, Eddie,” you say, eyes blurred with tears, words leaving your mouth breathlessly, “hurts so good.”

Your words don’t exactly do him a favor, especially when he opens his eyes and he looks down at you, watching the way your chest rises up and down heavily, the way you look down between your legs in desperation before your big eyes look up at him, glassy. Your lips are so puffy from all the kissing, your forehead glistening with sweat, your cheeks flushed. 

Your walls flutter around him, making it harder and harder for him. 

Eddie grabs your chin, “you’re so fucking gorgeous, baby, so fucking sweet and good for me but you’re driving me crazy, right now.”

“Fuck me,” you whimper, pouting at him as you hold his bicep harder, “please, fuck me, Eddie. I need it, I need you so bad– ah!” You scream out when he pulls out and slams back inside of you again. 

“Shh, I got you, I got you, baby,” he shushes your words, “can’t believe you are so desperate for my cock.” 

Your nails dig into his skin, your free hand gets lost in his hair, tugging at his curls as you roll your hips against his, going crazy at the feeling of him inside of you. 

“Please, please, please!” 

Eddie groans at your pleading, at the obvious desperation, at the need that you feel for him, and only him. His left knee digs into the soft cushions on the couch and he places his right foot against the floor, watching your face intently as he starts rolling his hips, making you gasp out loudly. 

“Oh my–” He pants, eyes rolling back as your name falls from his lips. 

“You… I…” You stutter, unable to find the right words, to even come up with anything as you lose yourself in this feeling. Your mouth waters and so do your eyes, his chain dangles before your face as he thrusts into you, faster and faster, deeper and rougher. You can’t help but clench around him, he fills you up so perfectly, his tip brushes against that one spot so rightly. 

You throw your arms around him as he cups the top of your head, holding eye contact with you as he rolls his hips harder. 

“I’m so fucking obsessed with you, do you even know that?” He kisses your lips, smacking them loudly against yours. 

“Mmm, I’m obsessed with you too, baby,” you whimper as you meet his thrusts, rolling your hips as well. 

“I never thought I’d get to have this, to have you.” 

You only hold onto him tighter in response, leaning into his neck, you brush your nose against it and latch your lips onto his neck, pecking along until you find that one spot that makes him whine, you start sucking, marking him up the way he did to you, not knowing just how feral that makes him. 

To wear your marks on his skin, to be claimed as yours makes his heart burst but it awakens something in him, because suddenly, he feels the need to pound you into this couch and he does so, he snaps his hips into yours, thrusting roughly. 

“Eddie!” You scream out in a choked sob, digging your nails into his skin as you cling to his body. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans loudly, not bothering to hide just how desperate you make him feel. He cups the back of your neck and pulls you back down, wanting and needing to see your face, he wastes no second before his lips are back on yours and his hips strike roughly into you, cock slamming in and out of you, the squelching sounds of your pussy filling the room, along with your moans and the slapping sounds as he fucks you. 

Neither of you want to pull away from the kiss, no matter how sloppy it gets, you don’t want to break the kiss and neither does he, not even when you grow breathless. You cling to each like you never did before, welcoming the pleasure that becomes almost too much. There is soreness in your thighs, burning in your lower back and an overwhelming sensation inside of you, an itch that only he can mend. 

And Eddie, he feels as though he is losing his mind, getting to feel this, to feel you, to kiss you and swallow your moans as your dripping walls cling to his cock, twitching around him and begging to be filled. Your arms and legs are so tight around him, you beneath him like he had only seen you in his dreams and in his imagination, you’re shaking, whining and trembling and you are close, he can feel it by the way you are getting tighter and tighter after each of his thrusts. 

Reaching down, he hooks his forearm around the back of your knee and he brings it up, pushing it higher until he can thrust into you from a different angle, one that makes you scream out with a high pitched moan and the neediest look he had ever seen on your face. 

“Fuck… just like that, baby, scream for me,” he rasps out. 

“Y-You’re so good, fuck me… Eds! Your cock feels so nice, please don’t stop, don’t ever stop!” You sputter, not knowing just how those words make him feel. 

You don’t know where to look, his pretty face, how he looks as he fucks you like you only ever dreamed of, how pretty his face is when he moans your name so sexily or how his glistening cock pounds in and out of you. 

And Eddie struggles just the same, though he settles on watching your beautiful face, wanting to see you fall apart more and more. 

And though you don’t want this moment to end, and neither does he, you both drag it out for as long as you can, not caring about anything anymore, not caring about the mess you are making on the couch. You are both sweaty, you are leaking down onto the cushions and Eddie is sure that he ripped a hole into the pillow beneath you earlier from how roughly he held it. 

A strangled whine leaves your lips and he knows you can’t hold on any longer, so he brings his hand down your stomach, pressing his fingers against your clit, causing you to jerk and whimper against him. 

“You’re close, baby, I can feel it,” he whispers against your neck, not slowing down his movements in the slightest, if anything, he starts fucking you even deeper, making you scream louder now as your fingernails rip through his skin from how hard you’re grabbing him and he welcome that pleasuring burn, “cum around my cock, do it for me, sweetheart. I know you want to be my good girl.” 

With another loud whine, you finally let go of him, arching your back and shutting your eyes tightly, you cum around your best friend's cock, for the first but definitely not the last time. You tighten around him so strongly that his hips stutter and his knees almost buckle, heat spreads through his skin and his stomach tightens as his own body screams for release. 

He can’t wait any longer either and panic ripples through him when you hold him tighter than before, locking him in as you refuse to let go. It makes his heart flutter and it does make him want to release but–

“I need to pull out, sweetheart,” he says shakily, knowing all too well that he doesn’t actually want it and apparently, you don’t either because you start shaking your head at him, opening your needy eyes. 

“No, no, don’t make a mess– cum inside of me, please!” 

His hips stutter once more, his dick twitches achingly inside of you, “you can’t just fucking say that–” he whimpers, unable to finish the sentence, one more thrust and he spills inside of you, coating your walls with his seed as your name falls from his lips before he smashes his lips to yours for the hundredth time tonight, swallowing your cry. 

Tears of pleasure run down your cheeks, your leg starts slipping from his waist and his thrusts slow down, though his grip doesn’t loosen on you, he continues to hold you close, the way you do as well as you grab his shoulder and his bicep, squeezing him tightly while your tongue clashes against his. 

Your walls spasm and contract around his length, sending shockwaves and an unbearable amount of pleasure through his sensitive body. 

Slowly, he removes his hand from between your legs, sliding it up your hot body until he is cupping your cheek again, he makes you both whimper when he pulls his softening cock out of you. 

Your name rolls off his tongue when you both pull away from the kiss, he says it like it’s a blessing, like a prayer. Your eyes make contact again and you stare at each other for a moment, lovingly, adoringly, and then, you both smile and giggle and press your lips back against each other, pecking one another again and again. 

“My Eddie,” you whisper as you admire the marks you left on him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers when he realizes that this isn’t just a moment, that this isn’t just for now, for tonight, that you waited for it just like he has. He looks down at you, brushing away and tucking your hair behind your ear as he caresses your cheek, his heart soaring in his chest. “I can’t believe this happened.”

You giggle at him, “I’m glad it happened.”

“Yeah?” He grins lazily, eyes dropping to your chest as he leans down and presses his lips to your jaw, “I’m fucking on top of the world right now.”

You brush your fingers through his curls, giggling yet again. 

“You’re a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork, right?” He asks with a hopeful glint in his eyes, one that questions more than just this. He wants to be yours, he wants it so badly. 

You nod happily, eyes flashing with happiness. 

“Mhmm, you’re mine, all mine.”

“Fuck,” he whispers as he feels his sensitive dick twitching at your words, heart bursting inside of him, “I’m yours, all yours.” 

You tug him closer and closer, breathing against his lips as you eye him hungrily again, you feel him leaking out of you and it only makes your thighs burn again, “and I’m yours.” 

“Yeah, you are,” he rasps as his fingers dip inside of you, he groans at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you, he pushes it back into you with a moan, “you’re mine, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, Eddie,” you mewl, pushing your hips up and chasing for more already. 

“You want more?” 

You nod, “yes… more, please!”

Not needing to be told twice, he slowly pushes his fingers and his cum back into you, making you both moan at that. 

“You know what, I'm glad we did this today,” Eddie mumbles against your lips. 

“Yeah?” You moan, arching your back in pleasure when he curls his fingers inside of you. 

“Mhmm, that means I get to fuck you over and over and over for the whole weekend,” he smirks before he slams his lips against yours again, kissing you passionately and sensually while his fingers move and in out of you, creating a mess with his cum leaking out of you and your own wetness sticking to your thighs and his. 

You both fill the room with filthy noises, needy and desperately you touch each other, grabbing and pulling at each others hair as the night goes on, continuing to mark each other up, to taste one another, to fuck like animals in heat, the movie long forgotten as his tongue laps at your pussy when he is kneeled on the ground with your legs dangling of his shoulders and your fingers pull at his hair roughly. 

This night never ends, the pleasure continuing until the early morning hours, until you can no longer take it, until you both get too sensitive, until you’re both nothing but a panting, sweaty mess and even then, you still kiss and cling to one another. 

The night was filled with desperation, with pent up emotions, with filthiness yet with love and adoration, and this night has changed you both forever, for good. 

-

“So… What you’re telling me is–…” Steve begins, arms crossed over his chest, jaw clenched as he stands before you and Eddie with a stern look on his face. You are both on his couch, looking up at him like scolded children. “You need to buy me a new… bed?” 

You are blushing furiously, embarrassment written all over your face. You glare at Robin who is standing in the corner, sipping on her soda with an amused look on her face. 

“Uh… yeah.”

You know how badly Eddie wants to laugh, he is smug, you can see it on his face but he stays quiet, for a second at least. 

“And a new arm chair?” Steve mumbles, looking between you both. 

“Yeah.” Eddie snorts to which you elbow him, shushing him. 

“Don’t forget the flower vase,” Robin snickers. 

Steve throws his hands up, “and a fucking flower vase, thanks Robin!”

You put your finger up and straighten your back, “actually, the flower vase fell by itself–”

“Because you were fucking on top of the table!” Steve retorts to which your boyfriend chuckles in satisfaction, not being embarrassed by anything in the slightest. 

You turn to look at him, he only smirks at you and shrugs, holding your thigh tighter than before. 

“I’d buy a new couch too–”

“Eddie!” 

Robin moves closer and eyes you both, eyeing the matching marks on your necks. 

“I hope you used protection, at least.”

Steve raises his eyebrows, looking at you both expectedly, your flustered face gives you away completely as you sink deeper into the couch, wanting nothing more than to bury your face in Eddie’s neck. 

“Great, now I might be a fucking uncle.”

“Godfather,” Eddie corrects him, making you giggle. 

“Go to hell,” Steve shakes his head, though he can’t hide the look on his face and how delighted he is to hear that he would be considered a godfather if it were to happen. And despite the clear distaste on his face after hearing what you did at his cabin, he can’t help but feel happy for you both. 

Robin looks down with a smile on her face when Eddie wraps his arm around you and kisses your cheek softly and Steve’s eyes soften as well. 

He sighs and rolls his eyes as he finally takes a seat, he reaches for his beer and takes a sip. 

“I’m happy my plan worked but you both will go back, replace the furniture and clean everything up before I lose my shit and I kill you before my parents kill me.”

You nod at him with wide eyes, while Eddie furrows his eyebrows, “clean up? Oh, we did clean up and besides, we didn’t waste a single drop.” 

“Eddie,” you whine as you bury your face in your hands while Robin groans in disgust. 

Steve only sighs but his lips twitch slightly, curling into a smirk as he nods at Eddie. 

“At least I know your children aren’t running around my cabin.” 

You give Eddie a warning glance but he is already smirking at you, gripping your thigh harder, slipping under your skirt. 

“They’re somewhere else.” 

“Oh, gross!” Robin coughs and turns away with a frown on her face. 

“Eddie!” You whine and slap his chest to which he pulls you closer and kisses your cheek, chuckling in amusement. 

Steve shakes his head, sighing. 

“I’m never inviting you both to that summer house ever again.”

[americasass81]

What a start, definitely love the way the two Steve's blend together so beautifully here. I mean the way he switched so easily between protective step-brother to her gentle lover is so well done without hiding the dark undertones of the whole piece:-

He inhales deeply, trying to take advantage of the situation in a way that won’t clue you into his true intentions. He wants you, but he wants you to think that he’s just helping you.

No other man is ever going to see you like this. He'll make sure of that.

All these little hints at what he sees ahead all while we see him protecting her from Brock, telling her what to look for in a future lover and reminding her to make sure they wear protection. And then of course the ending:

“Anything for you, Bunny.”

His duplicitous nature here is just perfect.

Training Wheels  -  One

Pairing: Dark!Step-Brother!Steve Rogers X Innocent!Reader

Summary: Your stepbrother would do anything for you. And he’s more than happy to prove that over and over and over again until you believe him. No matter what it takes. 

Warnings: Language, Sexual Harassment, Smut, Manipulation, Loss of Virginity, Sex between Step-siblings, bit of a size kink, 

Word Count: 3.7K

A/n: I have many parts of this planned but not written, and the taglist is open. Also, incase y’all forgot: I don’t talk politics on my blog. I’ve made it clear where I stand on certain things already and I want to keep my blog as an escape from reality for myself and others. 

A/n 2: I’m fucking tired so I’ll reply to asks and stuff probably tomorrow

!!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT! 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

~*~

“Hey, did (Y/n) get a new skirt?” At the sound of your name being mentioned, Steve snaps his head up, following his best friend’s gaze until it finally lands on you.

You’re walking across the campus courtyard towards the two of them, a smile on your face as you talk animatedly with Natasha and Wanda.

Sure enough, a new mini skirt is decorating your pretty legs. It flows with the breeze, almost getting blown up enough to see your panties.

“Jesus, that kid’s got some legs,” Bucky says, eyes roaming over your figure. Steve shoves his friend’s shoulder, giving him a hard glare.

“That’s my fucking sister you’re talking about. What would Nat think if she heard that?” Bucky rolls his eyes, grinning as his favourite redhead blows him a kiss.

“God, what I wouldn’t do to have those legs wrapped around my head.” You shudder in disgust, yelping as a hard hand comes down on your ass.

“Hey!” You exclaim, turning around and covering your butt while looking at the man.

“C’mon sweetheart. What’d you expect when you’re dressed like that?”

Keep reading

[swordgrace]

❝ 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮. ❞

┊ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: after getting injured on a mission and dismissing your help, you can’t seem to shake why john doesn’t like you. the answer is more complicated than you thought.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: john walker x fem!reader.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.0K (sorry!)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut (mdni), teammates to lovers, angst, talk of insecurities, john is an asshole who’s emotionally constipated, mention of violence, wound tending trope, heavy kissing, groping, teasing, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, mild body worship, hair pulling, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, missionary position, john has a huge praise kink, aftercare.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: listen ,,, I know he’s a bad person & he’s flawed but he’s so well-written and hot … and it’s wyatt russell !! first time writing for john and I loved this, I hope you guys love it too! thank you so much for your support! 🫶

Ash floats through smoke-laden air in the aftermath of an explosion, chunks of a building blown into the streets, screams of civilians pounding within your ears. Time stills, as if it’s come to a crawl, and everything slows around you.

Missions still paralyze you from time to time, fear and doubt creeping in, keeping you frozen in-place. It’s gotten somewhat easier, adapting to chaotic situations, attempting to fit in with your new teammates.

A clammy perspiration clings to your flesh beneath your suit, the design nondescript. Valentina had pushed for something flashy, more in-line with your abilities, but you refused. The less that you stuck out, the better.

It wasn’t nearly as impressive as the rest of the team, healing powers at the expense of your own energy, but you were designated as the ‘medic’, for obvious reasons. Whenever someone was injured or too roughed-up, you were there to help.

“You still with us over there?”

John Walker’s snide quip emanates from the communication link sitting in your ear, and it’s enough to effectively shatter your stupor. It wasn’t a malicious remark — just a little annoying, likely furthered by his tone of voice.

Steve Rogers was someone you knew, years ago — an acquaintance, really, but he’d helped get you out of a bind with undercover H.Y.D.R.A operatives. When he wore the shield, when Sam wore the shield, it stood for something greater than themselves.

Walker had been thrown into enough turmoil already; losing the role of Captain America, murdering an innocent, losing his family. It was all his fault, he knew this — it didn’t make the pain any less, knowing he was at the root of it all.

The both of you butted heads more often than not, two differing personalities that clashed in verbal sparring matches or thinly-veiled hostility. You’d tried to empathize with him, but he made it difficult with his condescending attitude.

Bucky had played mediator more times than you could count — you didn’t enjoy getting angry, the feeling never benefited you. Nevertheless, you were trying to get along with Walker and learn to work better as teammates.

Things were progressing, albeit slowly. Even after extending the olive branch and being kind to him, maybe too nice, he still held some lingering indifference towards you.

“I copy.” In the aftermath of thwarting enemies of the state, you prefer to help the civilians, ensuring that they were out of harm’s way, healed. Jogging toward a group of people attempting to move rubble aside, you’re quick to assist.

“There’s still one more, if someone wants to take care of it,” Ava’s voice comes over the communicator, muddled by background noise of emergency vehicles. “Unless you need help.”

“I got it.” Quick to volunteer, Walker’s voice cuts in before dissipating. You’re busy helping move wreckage aside, freeing any trapped citizens and making way for ambulances. Wailing sirens fill the air, and things move swiftly.

The air smells of burning, intermingled with a twinge of copper, a streak of crimson splashed upon your cheek. It’s a shallow cut, something trivial and minor, muscles aching with a dull throb after the dust begins to settle.

Helicopters begin to circle overhead, the media soon to follow. It was some rogue section of former H.Y.D.R.A operatives that had caused this mess, and with the formation of the New Avengers, these threats seem to appear more often.

The public is torn — one side openly celebrating that there’s protection again, the other side scornful of a ragtag group of government rejects. You aren’t one to pay attention to the discourse, focusing on finding your own footing, building relationships and making amends.

Despite having the team to lean on, you had a complicated relationship with your own family. After your powers manifested, you became isolated, kept at a distance, prompting you to run away and find S.H.I.E.L.D, when it still existed.

Still, you felt alone sometimes, but the pain had lessened with the passage of time. Alexei, of all people, treated you like a daughter, and Ava proved to be a reliable friend, despite her constant grimace. The more you assimilated with them, the more the bitter sting dissipated.

The team was a conglomerate of fragmented pasts — scars, veiled wounds, regrets; but they had become your family, or something close, and that meant the world to you.

As first responders began to flood the scene, you regrouped with the rest of the team, scraped and battered from the fighting, but all intact. Bucky and Yelena typically helmed any media events following a battle, but this time, everyone wanted to go home.

“Look at us,” Alexei laughs, placing a hand on John’s shoulder, and Yelena’s. “We are good team! The best team that the world has ever seen!” He cheers, and you find his enthusiasm endearing. John winces, stepping away from the Russian’s hold.

“You say that after every mission.” Yelena points out, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. The jet is somewhere down the street, and you all begin the arduous process of walking back.

“It is to remind of the truth, of our strength.” Alexei boasts, gleeful as ever as he jogs to keep up with Bucky. Bucky’s taken to letting him pretend that he’s the “co-captain”, just to keep his spirits high.

Morale is Alexei’s specialty — there is never a dull moment when he’s around, and his enthusiasm evokes a small smile from you, curling at the corners of your mouth. Dull, throbbing pangs of sore muscle ebbs through your body.

Straggling along at the tail end of the group, you step through some of the smaller pieces of rubble, a majority of what remains to be disposed of by a clean-up crew. Your mind is elsewhere, and the idea of sleeping once you’re back to the Watchtower is very appealing.

John is there too, uncharacteristically quiet as he walks a pace or two ahead of you, and you notice the slight stutter in his gait. There’s crimson blooming from a gash on the back of his suit, a deep wound, and your brows furrow together.

He didn’t say anything about it, which is typical, but you can’t help but be concerned. You didn’t dislike John, simply abhorred his attitude and the way he sometimes believed that he wasn’t at-fault.

Closing the distance, you come up on his flank, softly clearing your throat. “You’re hurt,” You murmur, low enough for only him to hear. He has an issue with getting injured, as if his pride is simultaneously bruised, so you keep it cordial. “I can take care of it.”

He’s always been reluctant to accept your help, allowing himself to fester within the pain, as if it’s some sort of penance for all the wrong he’s done. His muscles ache, and the gash, bruises, and cuts don’t make anything easier.

“I’m fine,” Dismissive, John brushes your concern aside, focusing on getting back to the jet without collapsing. The serum does its part, easier to manage the pain, but it doesn’t take away the sting. “It’s not that bad.” He utters, hoping you’ll drop it.

It’s his tone again; bitter, indifferent, swatting your offer aside as if you’re more bothersome than helpful. For reasons you can’t explain, it makes you angry, as if he’s too good for your help. Your jaw clenches, and you try again.

“There’s nothing wrong with accepting help, John. When we get back to the Watchtower, I can —”

“I said I’m fine.” Walker retorts, snapping at you without hesitation. It’s born from an amalgamation of agony and his own innermost demons that he’s wrestling with. He stares ahead, not wanting to look at your expression.

Bewildered, you fight against getting frustrated with him, wondering if there’s something that extends beyond his surface-level condescension.

Though, you wonder what you did to make him hate you so much — you sparred about the past, sure, but you were trying to bury the hatchet.

As if pierced by something sharp, you scoff, attempting to smother the flicker of fury that burned within your chest. It overrides your judgment, mouth moving before you can tell yourself to stop. “What’s your problem with me? Jesus, Walker, I just want to help you.”

The both of you are far away enough for the rest to remain oblivious to your sudden squabbling, and John grits his teeth, a sharp inhale splitting his lungs. “I can handle this on my own.” His tone is edged, but there’s something more beneath the surface.

Cerulean hues issue a warning for you to drop the subject, and you do, albeit reluctantly. Anger diminishes into confusion, uncertainty; you didn’t understand. Despite your efforts, he continued to swat you away as if you were a pest.

The splinter of desperation in your cadence turns his stomach, verbal sparring settling into a tenuous silence. John steals a glance despite himself, noticing the forlorn look that is etched into your brow, as if you’ve done something wrong.

He knows it’s not you — never has been, it’s him. John’s agitation dwindles into guilt, knowing that your intentions were wholly good, selfless. It’s something that he wishes he could have, and he’s working on it, but the process is emotionally heavy.

Scorned, you keep pace with him, even if he’s pushed you aside, ensuring that he makes it to the jet intact. The rest of the team regards you with perplexity, though you’re dismissive of it, settling into the webbing of your flight-seat.

The aftermath is often hushed — bodies catching their breath, a wordless recuperation, senses beginning to climb down from heightened adrenaline. Bucky’s piloting you out, heading back to the Watchtower.

Exhaustion settles in, replacing the exhilaration that comes with missions, the surge of vigor in your bloodstream. Tilting backwards, your head meets the cool interior of the jet, engine’s idle buzz thrumming beneath your boots.

John sits beside you, unexpectedly, his strenuous sigh rattling your body, passing from the bulk of his bicep to you. His visage is contorted into a look of thinly-veiled wistfulness, glancing sideways at you, a faint grimace of apology.

Quiet, you don’t relocate, simmering in the silence without so much as a murmur. Copper stings your nostrils, the scent of his blood, and you pretend that it doesn’t phase you; it does.

Your arms loosely fold over your chest, listening to the drone of the quinjet. The ride home is short, shorter than expected, and you’re eager to crawl beneath scalding water and let it burn the rush away.

As Bucky prepares for landing on the helipad outside, your gaze flutters toward John, whose stare is attempting to sear through the metal walls of the jet’s interior. He seems gone, as if his mind is a thousand miles away.

It was the same look he had when you were in the Void with him; loathing, conflicted, ripping himself apart for you to see.

The jet tremors violently as it descends onto the helipad, the noise scraping against your ears, a sound that’s still jarring to you. John remains unphased — he’s done it hundreds of times, terse as the hull begins to open.

Saying something now seems meaningless, words fading to ash within your throat, raw from thirst. Your fingers idly curl into the sleeves of your suit, tension relinquished as the team begins to file out of the jet, bearing the bruises and scrapes from the mission.

When you enter the Tower, a sense of relief finds you, the comfort of home, shoulders slouched as you make for your room. Bob is lingering beside the window, a book in his hand, headphones dangling from his ears.

“Good work today,” Bucky calls, attempting to boost morale. He’s at the helm, trying to steer this ship in the right direction, but it’s harder than it looks. “Get some rest.” He moves toward the lounge, hoping to get a status update on the cleanup.

Alexei chimes in with an echoed remark about how everyone did a good job, mirroring Bucky’s own statement. A smile curls at the corner of your mouth despite yourself, feet dragging as you sluggishly stumble toward your room.

Through the light clamor, you don’t see John, disappearing through the tinted pane of your door, feeling it hiss and click behind you. Your room is warm, cozy; it’s a sanctuary you’ve created, making something within the ruins of your old life.

A hush falls throughout the Tower, typically a quiet evening after returning from a mission. Outside, the skies turn to a swirling ink, veiled by heavier clouds that signal the onset of rain.

Peeling away your suit, your flesh is exposed to the coolness of your quarters, glittering with a layer of perspiration, body speckled in light cuts and fresh bruises. The shower calls your name, inviting, and you marinate beneath the water for half an hour.

Bruises pulse with a dull ache, remnants of crimson swept away by the water, leaving you renewed as you change into loungewear. Perched along the edge of your bed, you towel-dry your hair, gaze flickering toward your door.

You shouldn’t be the one to apologize.

The thought of checking on John crosses your mind, and then it stays, leaving you frustrated and torn. You didn’t hate him, you never have; if anything, you were left wondering why the strange hostility still lingered, after everything.

Even then, your desire to help overrode the brief spat that you had. He was your teammate, and leaving him to lick his grievous wounds without ensuring his safety felt cruel.

A tremulous inhale invades your lungs, steeling yourself as you cross into the corridor, leaving your room behind. His quarters are down the hallway, towards the very end, marked by blanched lights on either side.

No one sees you, and you creep over the cold tile as if you might be apprehended in the process. The walk there feels as if it’s stretched on for an eternity, taunting you with each step as you make it to the tinted panel.

His lock is off, you realize, and you try to knock, the sound eerily soft. There’s nothing, only an awkward stretch of silence that makes you shift uncomfortably, the chill of the floor sending a shiver down your spine.

“John?” Abandoning the use of ‘Walker’, you idly pace before the door, weaving in idle circles as you wait for him to answer. Still, nothing — you wonder if it’s intentional, if he’s purposefully ignoring you to prove a point.

Intending to ask for forgiveness later, you slide the door open, stepping into his room with a twinge of anxiety. You shouldn’t be skulking around in here, but his lack of answer had you worried — more than you should’ve been, really.

“So much for knocking,” His voice cuts through your scrambled thoughts like a serrated knife, though lacking the sardonic poise. “Could’ve waited a minute.” John utters, and you spot him in his bathroom.

Startled, your gaze draws to him, attempting to patch himself up with bloodsoaked fingertips and a disgruntled countenance. His back is facing the mirror, head craned over his shoulder, blonde brows creased together, throat stirring with a noise of agitation.

“You didn’t answer.” With a weak protest, you hover in the doorway, shuffling forward to let it close with a subtle click. Everything seems devoid of personal decorum in his room, as if he’s still deciphering what goes where, some belongings still in boxes.

“You didn’t give me a chance.” John retorts, lips parted to make room for a strained sigh. He’s been harsh enough today — he recollects, composes himself, and lets his guard waver.

“I was worried about you.” The weight of your confession brings him pause, hand poised against his back, attempting to apply gauze. He’s failing miserably, cerulean hues darting toward you, arms folded over your chest.

John stops, jaw tense as he huffs with frustration, discarding the roll of gauze onto the bathroom countertop. The low glow of the light glitters against his skin, pleasantly sunkissed, muscles taut and broad, speckled in violet bruises.

There’s a rawness to him, sinewy yet firm, the honed strength of a trained soldier. He’s visceral, nothing grossly herculean, but he’s worked for his physicality, sacrificed plenty for it.

You realize you’ve been ogling him, gaze carefully tracing over the blonde hair smattered over his chest, trailing along his abdomen before it disappeared beneath his tactical pants.

Tendrils of heat snake across the back of your neck, a twinge of something desirous stirring within your stomach. You aren’t used to it, and you feel yourself attempt to rip your gaze away to something else; and you can’t.

He’s a man beneath it all, beneath the shield, the armor, the facade of an inflated swagger, all of the peacocking — he’s vulnerable, now. John’s countenance softens, startled by the sincerity that permeates your voice.

It’s unusual for him to be this quiet, as if you ripped the bravado and smugness right from his throat. Pacing forward, you decide to extend the offer again, hoping that he’ll accept your help and throw away the pride.

“I can help,” Your tone is disarmingly tender, something that John knows he’s undeserving of, given his behavior towards you. You vex him, but not because of your demeanor — he’s falling, and he’s trying to stop himself; he can’t. “Please.”

John concedes, head bobbing in a brief nod as he turns to face the mirror, lukewarm water ridding the crimson that stained his fingers. Coiled muscle cuts across his back, flesh littered in old scars and a colorful variety of bruises.

With a soft exhale, you awkwardly move into the doorway of the bathroom, blanketed by the pale orange of the lights, the distant buzz something of a comfort to you. The gash stretches from his left rib to spine, an ugly wound, oozing red that trickles over his back.

Scraped, calloused hands grip the edge of the counter as he props himself up, gaze flickering toward your reflection in the mirror. Your hair, still damp, tousled and disheveled, a cut on your cheek, mannerisms somewhat shrewd.

It’s quiet — too quiet for your liking, but you don’t want to be the one to break the ice. Wordlessly, you reach out, palm beginning to mist with wisps of a faint green, your powers manifesting.

“I’m sorry for today,” John murmurs, stopping you in your tracks. The mist wavers, concentration effectively shattered by his apology, which happened to be entirely unexpected. “About not letting you help me.”

“Is it something I did?” Your inquiry evokes a pang of melancholy, as if his heart is bleeding, still halfway stitched together. “Listen, I know we’ve had our differences, but I’m trying to move past it.”

John sighs, exiting through his nostrils; measured, restrained. “You didn’t do anything,” He’s learning to admit when he’s the problem, digits tightening against the dark granite; it groans beneath his grasp. “I don’t hate you.”

Relief blossoms within your chest, as if some weight is lifted from your shoulders. Still, you wonder what exactly is wrong with him, festering below the surface, something he’s trying to bury. “Be honest with me — what’s wrong?” You question, brows furrowing together.

He’s reluctant to tell you why he’s comfortable with sitting in the pain — why he feels he deserves it. John knows that you mean well, always looking out for everyone else, showing kindness when you didn’t have to.

“This is what I deserve,” John utters, cadence embittered, withholding a wave of emotion. Tears swim, unshed within his eyes, and he actively fights against it. “The pain — for what I did, for what happened.”

For Lemar, for Olivia, for the blood on his hands, for the son who’ll only know his father as a deadbeat. He hates himself, deep down — he’s learning to be a better man, if that were even possible.

His transparency startles you, attempting to process this information in a way that evokes empathy. No one on the team is truly, wholly good — there’s amends that need to be made, most of them in the healing process, including you.

It’s a bleak contrast from the man constantly barraging you with snarky remarks, constantly engaging in banter with you. You don’t remember him opening up like this with anyone else.

Still, your hand drops, fingers twisting together as you scramble to come up with some encouragement. You’re so accustomed to his general smugness and cocksure attitude that this blindsides you.

“Just because you’ve done bad things doesn’t mean that you deserve to suffer, or rake yourself over the coals again,” It’s gentle, sound advice — John’s eyes screw shut. “Everyone deserves to heal, including you.”

The blood on his hands feels heavy, like some anchor dragging him down. After being stripped of the role of Captain America, spiraling, losing his family, he briefly considered it — a way out. He was glad that he never went through with it.

In the Void, when you found your way into his room, it was the moment Lemar had been killed. Replayed, over and over again, unable to be prevented — but his reaction could’ve been.

He could’ve been a better man.

In the beginning, he tried to justify it, rationalizing killing someone in cold blood. After time passed, he knew how wrong he was, how he desecrated the shield, the mantle; all for something else, to sate his rage. No matter how much healing he did, that would haunt him forever.

“Thanks.” He grits, as if he doesn’t fully believe your words. John understands your intentions, that you’re being empathetic and kind despite the abrasive way he’s acted towards you. It makes him feel worse. “I am trying.”

“I know,” Placating, your digits begin to shimmer with wisps of emerald energy, your power manifesting. “I know you are, John.” Oozing with a tender amiability, you can hear the tremor in his exhale.

When you called him John, it startled him; he’d gotten so accustomed to ‘Walker’, but he didn’t mind this in the slightest. Despite the rough beginning the both of you had with one another, he was warming up to you.

Admittedly, he thought it was the right thing to do, not fully letting you in to protect himself. When you had cordial conversations, he felt your kindness shroud him like a warm blanket; you’d moved on from the past.

Quiet, your hand finally lifts to his wound, brows creased in concentration, energy expelled into healing mist as it curls around the flesh. It feels like cold water, albeit soothing, pluming over torn skin and blood until it sinks inward.

A low grunt rips through his throat, somewhat startled at the sensation of your powers; simple, but wildly effective. It’s as if he’d never been slashed to begin with; the bruises and scrapes don’t go away, but the rest of it does.

Strained, your arm quivers, resolve slipping as you step away, using the doorway as a form of support. You’re always a little weak after you’ve healed someone, almost as if it’s an exchange of life.

“Better?” With a tender smile, you watch as he nods, inspecting himself in the mirror; nothing left behind. “Next time this happens, I hope you’ll let me help you.” You prompt, and he chuckles; it isn’t the typical condescending chide he gives you, either.

“I can’t make any promises.” John’s tone loses that bite, the indifference; it’s disarmingly soft. “Thanks again, for that. I’ve been an asshole to you — wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to help.” He murmured, tone lacking mirth.

“You have, but that can change,” Lips remain poised into a smile, one that makes his heart lurch within his chest. “You don’t have to keep being an asshole.” Your remark makes him scoff, though it’s more of a bemused sound, than anything else.

“I’ll lose my charm,” John counters, but he’s being sarcastic — somewhat, at least. You suspect he’ll still remain sharp-tongued and smug, but lose the indifference with you. “I know it’s something I need to work on.”

Grateful for his acknowledgment, you finally feel your energy return, a slow ebb that spreads throughout your body. Leaning off of the doorframe, you awkwardly step aside, figuring that this was your queue to leave.

“For the record, I never disliked you,” He utters, jaw clenched as he carefully navigates on what to say next. “Never had a problem with you, either. Your problem with me was justified.” John shrugs, his stare even-keel.

Bewildered, you let the pang of surprise fester, head cocking to one side. “I never really had a problem with you, or disliked you,” After this, you were beginning to understand why he was an asshole sometimes. “It’s all in the past, now. I want us to move forward.”

John’s halfhearted smile oozed with sincerity, a genuineness rarely seen by others. “I can do that.” Even still, he wouldn’t blame you if you had some sort of gripe against him, but you were kind — you were good, even if you didn’t think so.

His gaze hasn’t left you, cerulean hues fluttering over your countenance; you’re beautiful, eyes beset by kindness, half-dried tresses strung over your crown. The shirt you’re wearing is a size too big, sweatpants baggy, too.

He’s acutely aware of how obvious he’s being, ogling you; he always thought you were pretty, but in the bathroom’s faint glow, you’re stunning. You weren’t subtle either, he knows this, catching your shrewd gaze as it lingers on his arms.

John’s hands reach for his shirt, black spandex all wrinkled, balled up, stained with dried blood. The tension becomes unusually thick, mere embers kindled to life, now a fire that he doesn’t know if he can extinguish.

“Can I ask you something?” Your inquiry pierces through the tenuous silence, and there’s some momentary relief you gain from it.

“Yeah.” John’s tone is barely above a whisper, warm; as if he’s trying to calm himself down, ease the tension. With his shirt still clenched in one hand, he’s offering you his undivided attention.

With arms loosely folded over your chest, your fingers idly pluck at frayed stitching on your sleeves, a fleeting distraction. “Why were you always indifferent towards me, if you didn’t hate me?” You’re not accusatory, just curious.

Shit — John’s mind is scrambling for an answer that doesn’t make him seem strange. He’s got feelings for you, and you’re slowly drawing them out into the open; he doesn’t know how to handle it.

“Sometimes it’s easier for me to not let somebody in,” He shrugs, gaze wavering, flickering toward the ground. The vulnerability is something he’s still growing accustomed to — rawness of pain, feeling his emotions, choosing the right way to cope. “Because of what’s happened.”

Even then, his explanation still feels like he’s covering up for something else. Nevertheless, you let it rest, offering him a threadbare smile. “We don’t judge here, if you haven’t learned that already,” You sigh. “I’ll be here for you, if you choose to let me in.”

He already has — he’s appreciative, nodding as a display of gratitude before he finds your gaze again. “Thanks.” John smiles despite himself, swallowing down the words that want to escape him.

Silence settles between, the same tension simmering like before, causing you to shift your weight. He’s staring again, but you’re oblivious to it this time, angled away, trying to figure out what to do next.

Chewing at the inside of your cheek, your shoulders begin to slouch with relaxation. “I should probably go — you need rest.” You blurt, fumbling over your words, maintaining a sheepish smile as you shuffle toward the door.

John doesn’t really want you to leave; and he knows it’s selfish of him. His lips part, as if to ask you to stay, but he’s frozen, rooted in-place. Still, he nods, quietly resigning to letting you go back to your room.

His feet feel anchored to the floor, each step a drag as he trails after you, following you to the doorway. He’s quiet, still deliberating, turning over every word, every action within his mind. John comes up short, watching as you stop to say something else.

The closeness is sudden, wracked with tension; you’re nearly brushing arms with him, gooseflesh crawling along your spine. You’re both reaching for the door panel simultaneously, fumbling, fingers ghosting over one another; you recoil like you’ve been burned.

In the slim proximity, he catches a whiff of your shampoo — vanilla and peach, something sweeter, causing his jaw to tick. He’s looking again, unable to stop himself, gaze wandering over your body, appreciative; he grips the door frame as a distraction.

When you catch his stare, it burns you, something incendiary, as if he’s searing you into his mind. A subtle hitch forms within your throat, and you’re prepared to tell him goodnight, end it there — but you won’t move.

Silence stretches on, the sort of contemplative quiet before the onset of a storm, the deep breath before the plunge. Bodies linger within arm’s reach, screaming, and you have the audacity to stare at him, doe-eyed.

Then, you say his name, a feather-light whisper, gentle and placating. It barely registers, but he hears it, notices the parting of your lips, the way you haven’t recoiled from the closeness.

John’s mouth is suddenly pressed against yours in a heated frenzy.

A sharp inhale splits your diaphragm, lungs quaking, filled with a sudden surge of ecstasy when he kisses you. There’s a gasp stuck in the back of your throat, swallowed by the snare of his mouth.

His lips are unexpectedly soft, a stark contrast to the sharpness of his smart mouth. There’s a charged passion that echoes beyond the kiss, as if he’s walking the fine line of restraint.

Bewildered, your head is spinning, brain foggy, as if someone knocked you out. Left reeling, you don’t know what to say, what to do. Though, you’re receptive, mouth shyly moving against his, hands frozen at your sides.

When he pulls away, gauging your reaction, you appear as shocked as he does.

Each breath is labored, wrought with the sudden sting of exhilaration, butterflies beginning to pool within your belly. “I’m sorry.” John’s voice is low, a pleasant hum within your ear, but you don’t seem upset by what he did.

“Don’t be.” Without pause, your lips fly to meet him again, reciprocating the kiss, one that seems sluggish and passionate instead of frantic.

He’s kissing you back, hand dropping from the door to your hip, calloused digits caressing you through your shirt. The gesture ignites a fire within your bones, unable to stifle your mounting excitement.

Shyly, your hands move toward his chest, soft like velvet, smoothing over his pectorals as he presses you up against the door. A low groan vibrates through his chest, reveling in the feeling of your skin touching his.

There’s a poised strength coiled within his body, firm, flesh and blood, chest rising and falling underneath your hands.

His kiss is disarmingly gentle, something unexpected, but not unwelcome. You feel his body nudge against yours, distance now nonexistent.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you, gotten into him, but you’re enjoying yourself — you want him, need him, starving for contact.

He tastes metallic, an amalgamation of copper and a natural musk. Digits idly smooth over the coarse, blonde hair that covers his chest, descending toward his groin. The thought alone makes your knees weak.

Each kiss sends you spiraling, clawing for his mouth, leaving you ragged, desperate for his touch. You can’t remember the last time someone kissed you like this — even then, your experience is thin.

His scruffy countenance melds with yours, bleeding heat, kissing you with enough vigor that it prompts you to hold onto him. Your heart gallops, races — it’s quick and erratic, beating in your ears.

Recoiling from the kiss, your fingers tremble, deftly tracing over his collarbone, over scar-kissed skin, over faint clutches of freckles. “John, I — Are you sure?” You whisper, hoarse, afraid that he might regret it all in the morning.

“Wouldn’t have kissed you if I wasn’t sure.” John murmurs, voice low, curling thickly as his hands rub circles into your hips. He’s strong, secure — you didn’t expect to feel so comfortable with him. “I’ve thought about it for a while.”

His lips make contact with your jaw, mouth clamoring over your skin, kissing the spot beneath your ear. Flush to you, his confession makes your bones lurch, and you wonder what else he’s thought about, too.

Flustered, you’re quick to melt into him, visibly smitten, as if you’ve wound yourself into a tight knot. John notices, mouth twitching into a smirk as he places a string of kisses beneath your jawline.

“John …” A soft mumble rolls from your tongue, hands beginning to trail from chest to shoulders, anchoring yourself to him. His beard burns against your flesh, a pleasant scratch, reminding you that he’s real, this is real.

Warm breath feathers over your throat, your jaw, your cheek — he’s still smirking, too. “You’re getting shy on me.” He mumbles, able to taste the heat that bristles from your flesh. A hitch forms within your throat, his remark making you burn.

“No,” Posturing a weak defense, your body succumbs, lips parted to make room for a dizzying sigh. “I’m not.” It’s pathetic, your retort, but he’s still grinning as if he’s caught you in a trap, attempting to reign in the smug attitude.

“Right.” John’s cadence is dangerously low, little more than a pleasant husk that scratches the back of your brain. He’s teasing you still, cerulean hues alight with mirth, fingertips barely skirting underneath your shirt.

He’s charming — too charming, and it makes your flesh burn with an embarrassed heat. His lips plume over your throat, hips brushing against yours, and that’s when you feel it. Something firm through his kevlar pants, briefly grinding against your pelvis.

A noise echoes from John’s throat, somewhere between a grunt and groan, causing you to smile, as if you’ve discovered his secret. “Already?” It’s playful, sure, but you’re simultaneously flattered that it didn’t take much work.

It’s his turn to blush, scarlet crawling over handsome features, red spreading towards his neck. “Can’t help it,” John mumbled, gaze briefly meeting yours. “You’re beautiful.” His low timbre made you shiver.

Unable to smother your smile, you urge him closer for another kiss, digits clamoring for the nape of his neck, toying with the blonde hair there. Each entanglement of lips seems to grow in fervor, charged with mutual excitement, passion.

His hands are fisted in your shirt against, giving it a soft tug, as if silently asking you for your permission. Mouths continue to clash, a mess of lips and teeth, tongue when John initiates it, eliciting a moan from your maw.

With a brief nod, he breaks from you, only to assist in removing your shirt, tossing it elsewhere in his room. You aren’t wearing a brassiere, which catches his attention, stopping in his tracks as he admires your physique.

“Jesus,” John sighs, rapturous, noticing the doe-eyed look you’re giving him again. Lips part, jaw unclenched as he not-so-subtly ogles your collarbone, letting it drift toward your chest. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Swallowing your anxiety, you feel yourself melt beneath his stare, incendiary enough to turn you to cinders where you stand. “The thought hasn’t crossed my mind.” Barely above a whisper, your gentle teasing evokes a half-smile from him.

A huff leaves him, hand steady as he kneads into your hip, dipping lower, grasping at your haunch as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his hips. You’re still kissing him, held aloft by John’s arms, bearing your weight without effort.

He carries you to his bed, gray sheets already disheveled, laying you down as he crawls on top of you. A soft exhale whistles through your nose, arousal beginning to coalesce between your thighs, warmth pooling in your belly.

“You sure?” John murmurs, wanting to ensure that you’re certain about this. He is, but he wants to make sure that all cards are on the table. He’s not used to this, to showing vulnerability, but it feels comfortable with you.

“Yeah, I am,” Gazes twine together, the only illumination being the glow from the bathroom, blanketing you in swirls of orange and shadow. “I want you, John.” Your admission is saccharine, steeped in a warmth that he clings to, savors.

Christ, he wants you, too — craves you more than air, cerulean hues glistening with a thinly-veiled ardor. It’s a sudden shift from how things were before, but the tension had finally come to a boiling point, and he was glad that it had.

Mouths connect instantaneously, eliciting a pleading moan from your throat, swallowed by his kiss. Your legs drop, spread apart to accommodate for his frame, lean muscle wedged between your thighs.

His palm kneads into your calf, dragging to the crook of your knee, caressing you over your baggy bottoms. Your hands thread against the nape of his neck, taking handfuls of his blonde tresses, ensuring that you weren’t rough with him.

Chests brush against one another, firm muscle exuding warmth, peaks of your breasts ghosting over his pectorals. Each kiss rips the air from your lungs, leaving you reeling, gasping as you feel his tongue prod against yours.

A whine bubbles from your throat, smitten, tongue shyly mingling with his as the kiss turns into a mess of passion. Your fingers are carding over the back of his skull, slipping over his hair as his teeth catch upon your bottom lip.

John grunts, the tent in his pants grinding recklessly against your core, friction causing both of you to writhe. As if to torment him, you roll your hips forward, evoking a groan from him, his gaze pleading with you to stop.

“Don’t,” He warns, strained, attempting to hold himself together. Your mouth quirks into a smile, one that he feels even as he kisses you again, your palm splaying over his shoulder. “Can I take these off?”

His hands curl into your sweatpants, fingers teasing the waistband as he waits for you to consent. As soon as you nod, accompanied by a breathy ‘yes’, he’s tearing into them, the stitching splitting apart beneath his inhuman strength.

A gasp slipped from your mouth, writhing beneath him to free yourself from the fabric, kicking them to the floor. John marvels at the sight of you, your body something perfect, malleable within his grasp, mouth planting a kiss against your jaw.

Cool air plumes over your heated flesh, offering some alleviation, a reprieve from the fever-pitch of your body. John’s hand smooths over your leg, squeezing into your thigh, digits flicking over the hem of your panties.

The brief gesture makes your head spin, desperate for him to touch you. He’s already got an idea in his head, calloused fingers rough like leather as he drags his hand between your legs.

Knuckles ghost over your clothed cunt, feeling the tangle of damp cotton, the way your throat sputters with a subtle gasp. Your thighs twitch, knees trembling on either side of him as your nails trace over the back of his neck.

“Christ,” He huffs, forehead nearly flush against yours, watching as you squirm from the brief caress. John repeats the motion, feeling your nails dig harder into his skin, mouth screwed open. “You like that?” His murmur makes you feel weak.

With a nod, you want more, hips urging into the friction of his hand. To your delight, he doesn’t torment you, doesn’t make you work for it as his fingers slip beneath your panties.

Two fingers stroke along your cunt, gathering the warm slick there with one sluggish swipe. To your utter bewilderment, he lifts his digits to his mouth, sucking them clean before he lavishes your throat in a myriad of kisses.

“John, please.” Moaning his name, the sight he just treated you to is sure to be burned in your mind forever, causing your thighs to rub together. Kissing a trail down your neck, he finds your sternum, mouth voracious, ceaseless.

A boyish grin settles onto his features, deriving enjoyment from your reaction, continuing to worship your flesh in rapturous kisses. No inch of skin is safe as he descends, lips pluming over your breasts, your ribs, navel; lower, and lower again.

You taste sweet, as if your skin oozed with sugar, and he’s savoring every piece of you, kisses steeped in a disarming reverence. His beard tickles your flesh, goosebumps cascading down your spine as he makes it to your waist.

His muscles flex, pulled taut as he crawls lower, face hovering beside your hip as he eases your panties down, letting them creep over your thighs. Everything feels hot, body set ablaze, arousal coalescing against your cunt.

Lips press to your thigh, shoulders creating space, bullying your legs apart. Digits flex, trembling as they lower to card through his tresses, gaze ensnaring with his own, causing you to shiver.

John kisses a trail over your inner thighs, toward the glistening heat at your apex, listening to your breath hitch. It’s labored, wrought with exhilaration as your back begins to arch.

That ghost of a cocksure grin feels like a hot brand against your thigh, softening when you make a strangled, pleading noise. Nearly prone against the sheets, he lets your legs recline against his shoulders, hands gripping your hips.

The first rake of his tongue over your cunt is agonizing, hot embers, scorching against your flesh as he laps traces the length of your slit. It’s sluggish, exploratory — he’s keen to know what makes you writhe.

With parted lips and eyes wrenched shut, a needy moan splits past your throat, unable to keep quiet. John’s chest stirs with a low grunt, greedy tongue deftly splitting past your folds, tasting you with a sudden fervor.

Still, he’s gentle, disarmingly so, careworn palms massaging into your hips, keeping you slotted against his face. The scruff of his blonde beard scratches ragged over the inside of your thighs, sandpaper to silk, the sensation pleasant.

John eases you into it, committing every detail of your body to memory; hoping there’s a next time, thumbs tracing circles into your skin. Lapping against your core, his ministrations slowly gather haste, nose grazing your clit.

A myriad of moans leave you, attempting to keep the sound hushed, as to not alert any unwanted attention. Your legs tense, flex on either side of his head before his shoulders nudge you apart again, mouth dragging over your cunt.

He maintains something of a rhythm, attempting to walk the line of restraint, as to not overwhelm you. Your body rattles beneath him, spasmodic tremors of delight rolling down your spine, waves of bliss felt all over, ebbing through your veins.

One hand haplessly fists at the sheets, fingers curled so tightly that you want to rip it apart. He’s too good at this, which surprises you — he doesn’t give that impression, initially.

The room feels like a furnace, bodies bleeding heat, each breath hoarse, tight with rapture. His mouth is a thing of perfection, pleasuring you as if it’s his sworn duty, tongue lapping at every inch of your cunt.

John’s gaze flutters from the task at-hand to your countenance, contorted into an expression of ecstasy, effortlessly pretty. His heart skips a beat; you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.

You’re wound up, coiled over and over again, into a tangle of heat, furled desire that’s begging to be released. Carding through his tresses, you gingerly scratch at his crown, briefly tugging on his hair, hips wantonly urging into his mouth.

“G—God, John,” A sheepish moan falls from your mouth, coupled with a sharp inhale that rips through your diaphragm. Your cunt clenches pathetically around nothing at all, back arched from the mattress. “So good at this.”

It’s an inkling of praise, but it’s enough, evoking some hunger from John, who's eager to please. The tent in his tactical pants is borderline painful, erection grinding against the bed in a pitiful attempt to alleviate some of the friction.

Driven to the brink, you feel as if you’re beginning to toe the line of some steep plunge, his lips urging you closer to a release. Everything feels hot, as if you might combust, arousal coalescing between your thighs.

John has you pinned down, nose ghosting over your folds, tongue still ceaselessly lapping at your core until there’s a shift in rhythm. He presses a kiss to your clit, listening to the tremor in your exhale, feeling your legs tense.

Teeth catch across your bottom lip, biting down with an absent pressure, digits beginning to lightly curl against his scalp. His name emerges from your mouth again, desperate and wanton, breathy as you squirm.

“You’re easy to rile up.” John murmurs from between your legs, a breathy chuckle floating from his chest when your fingers pull on his hair. He plants a reverent kiss to your thigh, teasing, but the break doesn’t last for long.

If it weren’t for his lips pursing around your clit, you might’ve clawed for a retort, but he rips any remark from your throat. The sudden ripple of bliss sends you reeling, choking on a simpering whine as you shift beneath him again.

His mouth gingerly laps at that sensitive clutch of nerves, shockwaves shattering through your body, tingles of ecstasy following suit. A strangled moan snares in your throat, slipping through when he drags his tongue along your cunt.

He’s right, though — you are easy to vex, and he’s mapping you out as if you’re intimately familiar to him already. John’s mouth is voracious, tongue endlessly greedy, eating you out as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

You’re getting close, body being pushed to a blissful oblivion, the white-hot heat that threatens to consume you. His hand drifts from your thigh to the slick warmth between, thumb seeking your clit like a missile, slowly circling around it.

“Fuck,” You moan, the expletive uncharacteristic of you, but he finds plenty of enjoyment in you saying it. His name is soon to follow, a bedroom hymnal, repetitive as it spills from your tongue, crying out his name to the ceiling. “J—John!”

It’s pathetic how easily he’s got you squirming, tension beginning to unfurl, the knot within your belly stretched to the brink. He’s careful, tender, intimate in a way that makes your features surge with warmth.

“That’s it.” John murmurs, timbre little more than a drawl as he coaxes an orgasm from you, thumb continuing to toy with your clit until you burst. He’s mesmerized, a super-soldier reduced to a lovesick boy, watching you with a thinly-veiled rapture.

With one simple circle of your pearl, you’re gone, ecstasy bleeding from you in one wave, nearly overwhelming. You’re blinded by euphoria, white-hot stars crossing your vision until you’ve melted into the sheets.

Nerves are frayed from bliss, tossed into the throes of pleasure, one that you may not fully recover from. Stars linger still, head foggy, dizzy from a desirous haze as you try to find a scrap of composure.

He tastes you again, one last time, committing it all to memory as he kisses your leg, kneeling in-between your thighs. You’re shaking, chest tight with drawn-out sighs, gazes ensnared, burning with adoration.

“You’re really good at that.” A soft whisper rolls from your lips, appreciative, but John looks like you’ve just called him perfect. He’s starved for praise, reduced to a mere beast, laying at your feet, preening for more.

John’s up on his knees, staring a hole through you, hands reaching for his belt. Driven by both excitement and instinct, you sit up, fingers clamoring with his own as you’re helping to wrestle his belt off, unzipping the front of his tactical pants.

“You drive me crazy,” John groaned, feeling you grow smitten in the wake of his admission, desperate to be inside of you. “Can’t think straight.” He utters, and you know it’s an intentional compliment.

He repositions himself, hunched in, blanketing you with his bulky physique, lean muscle glued to your frame. He’s much larger than you, you realize, listening to the shuffling of fabric, feeling his cock press incessantly against your navel.

You’re intimidated, bewildered by his size, startlingly large, unabashedly so. Swallowing the growing lump in your throat, your hands come to hook around the back of his neck, no space remaining.

As if to ignite the tension further, your mouth catches his, lips locking together in a heated kiss. You can taste yourself, an added layer of debauchery, but he’s groaning into your lips, fisting the pillow near the side of your head.

John’s other hand finds your thigh, kneading into your haunch as he steadies himself, cock heatedly grinding against you. Mouths tangle, clash — it’s a war of teeth and tongue, thirst instead of hunger, as if he needs you more than anything.

Wanton, exhilarated breaths drag between bodies, the warmth of his sigh pluming over your features, his beard ragged against your cheek. His blonde tresses are tousled, disheveled — he’s painfully handsome, kissing all over your mouth.

He withdraws, heads flush together, mere centimeters apart as he adjusts himself, cock nudging against your folds. You’re clinging to him, a twinge of anticipation churning in your belly.

“You alright?” He utters, low and husky beside your ear, actively restraining himself from being too spirited. There’s something intoxicating about the way you’re staring at him; it’s tender, more than he deserves, he thinks.

Slowly, you plant a kiss against the scruff of his jaw, and then beneath, where a yellowing bruise sits. Hands wander to the firm muscle of his shoulders, kneading over freckled skin.

John exhales; a drawn-out, contented sound that releases coils of tension from his shoulders. With a nod of consent, you let yourself get comfortable. He drags his cock over your cunt again, biting back a stifled groan.

“Go slow,” You squeak, body already sore from the mission — he might add to it, if he isn’t careful. His lips seal themselves to your throat, peppering your flesh in a myriad of sweet kisses, nose brushing over your jugular. “I need you.”

Serum-infused blood pumps through his veins, oozing raw strength, but he knows to rein himself in, head bobbing in a brief nod. “Say that again.” John grunts, cock prodding against the warmth of your cunt, preparing to push past.

His head is partially buried into the hollow between throat and shoulder, beard prickling your flesh, a satisfying sensation. An excitable buzz wracks your body, sending tingles all over, a throbbing pulsing from between your legs.

“I need you,” Wantonly, your palm splays over his shoulder-blade, nails digging into his skin, eliciting a low groan from your paramour. “J—John, please!” It’s a plea, a desperate one, spoken through a beguiling cadence, one that winds him into tight knots.

With a shudder, John is thirsty for your embrace, a man lost within a desert, finding his oasis. His forehead nudges beside your temple, hotly grunting into your ear, sending waves of ecstasy through your belly.

His hips slowly urge forward, flushed head of his cock pushing into you with mild resistance. Disarmingly gentle, John doesn’t move quickly or rough, heeding your words as he fists at the pillow, body kissed by perspiration.

The tightness of your cunt drives him to the brink of madness, huffing beside your ear, fighting against baser, lesser instincts. Clinging to him as if he might fade through your fingers, he moves at an agonizing pace, not wanting to hurt you.

He doesn’t, a husky groan ripping through his diaphragm when your hips accidentally roll, feeling his muscles tense beneath your hands. “Jesus,” John grits out, feeling your nails dig crescents into his shoulder. “You’re perfect.”

A moan tumbles from your parted lips, his cock filling you completely, nearly bottoming out as he sinks forward. Intermingled groans and hot sighs tangle in the thin space between, heat against heat.

Your knees squeeze near his waist, legs kept spread apart by his musculature, bodies clawing for one another, ardor thinly-veiled. John’s countenance is contorted into a look of concentration coupled with bliss.

“S’good,” You moan, having adjusted enough, allowing yourself a moment of composure; it won’t last, and you know it. “Move.” Breathy and wrought with exhilaration, you give him the signal to take things further.

John’s resolve is crumbling, foundation swept away in the wake of your affections, and your wanton moan doesn’t make anything easier. Propping himself up on one arm, the other holds steadfastly to your thigh, an anchor.

Foreheads knock together, noses ghosting over one another as he begins to thrust into you, bicep flexing with exertion. The first drag of his hips sends you reeling, and you know that you won’t last long — and neither will he.

A string of hoarse expletives flutter from his mouth, barely above a whisper, setting your bones ablaze as he pulls back and pushes forward.

The fit of him is tight, cock oozing with heat as he draws back again, following through as he jolts forward.

Beneath you, the bed frame creaks — faint, as if it shows some give with the super-soldier on top of you. Your digits coax him in for a kiss, mouths colliding in a messy clash of tongue and needy lips, fire feeding fire.

John groans into your mouth, pushing and pulling, hips urging into yours, cock filling you with each thrust. Between fervent kisses and pleading moans, your head is foggy, dizzy with desire.

He develops a rhythm, the pace steady, each drag of his hips ripping a moan from your mouth, and he earned it. His hand kneads into your thigh, squeezing on occasion when the pleasure mounts, muscles coiled within his stomach.

“Y—You’re perfect,” The praise leaves your tongue as a hoarse whine, a noise that leaves goosebumps trailing over John’s spine. It’s the validation he desperately craves, the veneration, knowing he’s doing something right. “Don’t stop.”

A husky, throaty groan pierces through his chest, the noise making you shiver, arousal slick and warm between your thighs. It makes each snap of his hips easier, cock sinking into you over and over again.

It’s unintentional, his shifting pace; it begins to climb, from drawn-out and steady to needy, rutting into you as if each stroke would be his very last. John is trying to keep himself controlled, but you make it so difficult.

He slows again, the pleasure mounting, a knot that is becoming frayed at either end, prepared to be pulled apart. His cock throbs incessantly, pulsing inside of you, feeling your cunt clench around him.

Perspiration glitters along his brow, glistening along his hairline as he hunches in over you, and you feel all of him, viscerally.

The bed frame rattles in protest, as if bowing to his strength, and he’s already tearing the stitching in the pillowcase beside your head. A soft gasp slips from your lips, his mouth ghosting over yours.

Grunts of ecstasy leave him in droves, cock easing in and out of your cunt as if you’re made for him. John’s countenance is one of bliss and concentration, frustration now dissipated.

Each snap of his hips drags you further into the throes of ecstasy, and he’s nearly there, cock spearing into you. His breathing is growing ragged, raspy as it curls beside your ear, hot breath pluming over your face.

Noises surge in volume, filling his room with the sounds of vigorous lovemaking; he doesn’t care if the team hears anymore. John’s rapturous groans make you shiver in delight, head flush to yours again, the closeness addicting.

Another grunt ripples through his chest, the sound stretched, the rest tapering off as his hips begin to stutter, pace erratic and desperate. He’s close, weighing the odds of finishing inside of you, nearly whimpering when your legs hitch around his hips.

His name spills from your lips like a confessional, sobbing to the heavens, feeling your body begin to unfurl with tension. Bodies move within one another, his cock buried deep, kissing your cervix with each thrust.

From the tension in his muscles alone, you can tell that he’s about to burst, combust like fireworks in your hands. You’re on the pill, and so you urge him closer, wanting him inside of you even still.

When your name emerges from John’s mouth, you’re awestruck, flustered by the way in which he says it so tenderly. “I’m on the pill.” It’s all you’re able to say before he’s swallowing your words, covering your mouth with his.

The kiss is voracious, needy — John is unable to mask how he feels about you, letting it all bleed into tangled lips as he cums. He releases inside of you with a groan, followed by a rush of warmth that blankets your insides.

Tingles of delight wrack your body, a subdued release that seems to twine with his, a muted buzz surging through your bones. John’s hips crawl to a sluggish rhythm, agonizingly slow, as if to absorb the last few traces of friction.

Each breath heaves for composure, shallow and taut with exhilaration in the aftermath, sweat-slick skin melded together. His forehead nestles against yours, labored breathing evening out quicker than yours as he stills.

His spend and your arousal feel slick between your legs, making a mess of his sheets, joined bodies bleeding heat. You’re reeling, slower to recuperate as he pulls out of you with a soft grunt, rolling over to lay beside you.

John doesn’t leave, cerulean hues glued to your countenance, as if his whole sense of gravity has been shifted, changed. It’s hushed, save for your labored sighs, in-tandem with one another.

Wordlessly, he coaxes you closer, muscled arm hooking around your middle, inviting you to lay against his chest. One palm remains splayed, flat against your ribs, soothing you with easy caresses.

“Are you still with me?” John’s wisecrack makes you blunder, a soft laugh escaping you, hand playfully bumping against his chest.

“Yeah,” Unable to smother your smile, you’re delighted to sink into his embrace, keeping your hand on his chest. The hair beneath is something you trace through, over muscle, over old scars and greenish bruises. “I …”

As you trail off, John’s head cranes down enough to brush his lips against yours, the kiss sweet, bristling with a thinly-veiled affection. He lets you finish your thought, watching as you sit up enough to see him fully, perched on your stomach.

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” You utter, agonizingly soft, cadence wrought with an amalgamation of sentiments. John’s trying to be better, and it’s something you want to be a part of, if he’ll let you.

Neither did he, admittedly; it’s something John’s willing to admit to. “The thought never crossed my mind,” He murmured, blonde lashes fluttering as his hand cupped your jaw, calloused and careworn over satin skin. “But I’m not perfect.”

“I know, that’s why I like you.” With a dazzling smile, he’s caught right in the crosshairs, lips parting with a placating huff. It turns into a hum of a chuckle, his hand still firm against your side.

In a gentle clamor, his lips find yours, beard tickling your skin again, the sensation wholly pleasant. The kiss lingers, something that feels closer to home, a newfound warmth that the both of you desperately crave.

John’s mouth twitches into a half-smile, a peculiar mirth beginning to touch his eyes. He feels you plant a kiss against his shoulder, and he knows he’s completely screwed — you’re falling, but he’s falling harder.