#steves emotions are all over the place

[afewproblems]

agree with steve not forgiving eddie! how do you think it would go when they see each other for the first time after everything? like.. I feel like steve would just tell him it’s over for good but :O

Part one, part two, part three

The record label releases a statement, something to the effect of privacy concerns, not to misconstrue or blow things out of proportion because photos can be manipulated. There is no firm denial, but no confirmation either. It's all wishy washy bullshit.

It's like Steve's heart breaks all over again.

He doesn't speak to the press, despite redoubling their efforts to talk to him, Steve unplugs their home phone permanently, wraps it up in the cord and puts it in the back of the bedroom closet.

Eddie does try calling Steve's cell, but he never leaves a message, as though he knows they would go unheard.

After the initial visit from Wayne he ends up calling his de facto father in-law once a week. It's nice, it's the one good thing that has come out of this whole situation.

And Wayne doesn't seem to mind being their go between, especially since he's a lot less subtle than he thinks, asking pointed questions about how Steve is feeling, how he's handling the LOA.

It's a relief to say the least, talking to Eddie without talking to him, it allows him to breath.

It's quiet for about two weeks, the coverage of the photo and the story has dwindled significantly and the media seem to have moved on from talking about them, finally.

Steve's LOA is almost over, he's confirmed with Liz that he can return to the classroom next week as planned which leaves him in the highest spirits he's been in all month.

But of course it can't last.

The first time Steve sees Eddie is on Conan.

It's a Thursday night, Steve channel surfs absently. He's left the living room dim, the only lights from the television and the Chicago cityscape glowing through the living room window.

He lands on NBC for just a moment and freezes when he hears Gareths familiar voice speaking.

Gareth, Eddie, Jeff, and Grant are all seated on the set couch with Andy Richter. Conan asks a few questions about their tour, their recent resurgence in popularity from the movie, their favorite Marvel characters from the franchise that skyrocketed them back into the public scene.

Its a standard interview, Conan keeps it light, easy-going, not a single mention of the infamous photo.

Logically Steve knows this is most likely a mandate from the band's manager but it doesn't feel that way, it feels like a slap to the face if he's being honest with himself.

Did he imagine it? Had he blown this whole thing out of proportion? Maybe he was overreacting.

His phone buzzes on the coffee table he's left his feet on, Robin's face and 'Thing One', brightens up the room.

Steve moves his feet to sit up properly and he mutes the television with the remote before answering.

"Are you seeing this shit?" she growls on the line.

Steve laughs, "Hello to you too," he leans into the worn cushions of the couch and tries not to think of the second empty divot in the middle next to him, "yeah I'm seeing it".

"And they're not going to talk about it at all? Like what about journalistic integrity and all that shit?"

Steve rolls his eyes and snorts into the receiver, "I don't think Late Night counts as journalism Bobs--"

"Still," she huffs out.

Robin is quiet for a second before she says softly, "you okay?"

"No," he whispers, "but I think I'm the closest I'll be for awhile," he draws a heavy hand through his hair and ignores the cameras which have now panned to Eddie who looks pensive on screen.

He's not speaking, in fact Eddie hasn't said a word the entire interview. He looks tired, his normally pale face has turned sallow and drawn with deep purple bags under his eyes that even the show makeup has not covered.

Steve looks away from the screen and ignores the dull ache in his chest.

"I'm glad that it's not all over the news anymore," he admits after a moment, "but, its almost like it never happened".

Robin hums sympathetically on the line, "Twenty-four hour news cycle, they've probably found some new scandle to follow," she's quiet for another second, "he looks like shit".

Steve barks out a surprised laugh that trails off sharply, he chews his lip for a second, "is it crazy that I'm worried about him? He looks likes he's not sleeping--"

"Steve..."

"I know, I know, I'm am angry with him and I don't think that will go away any time soon, but look at him".

The camera angle switches to a wide shot of the whole group and Eddie stands out so starkly amongst the other band members that are put together, smiling, engaged in the conversation.

Verses the silent, pale ghost that Steve doesn't even recognize.

"Do not let that kicked puppy thing let him off the hook Steve," Robin says, the words are sharp but the tone is still gentle, "he hurt you just because you had a fight--"

"Maybe it wasn't that simple!"

"Steve..."

"I miss my husband Robin, I can't, I fucking hate that he did this but I miss him so much," he says, his voice wobbles slightly as Conan holds up a large version of Corroded Coffin's latest album on the desk before gesturing to the stage area to reveal their setup to start playing.

"I feel like there's something wrong with me," Steve says, giving voice to the smallest parts of himself that have been festering inside of him the last couple of days.

The longer they're apart, the longer he refuses to speak to Eddie to more these thoughts have been creeping in. Maybe he should just let it go, maybe he can eventually forgive him and they can move forward again.

It's countered again and again by the image, the kiss.

Imagining the two of them together, Eddie with this stranger. Did he call them Honeybee, the way he did Steve? Did he hold them after and whisper other sweet nothings, promises into their ears?

It's enough to turn his stomach.

"I don't know what to do, I can't exist like this much longer, the tour is going to be over soon and then what?"

"I don't know Steve, you're the only one that can make that decision, but," he can hear the small reassuring smile on her face as she speaks, "we'll be here for you no matter what you decide, I promise".

"Thank you".

"Anytime Dingus".

***

The second time Steve sees Eddie is a month after the Conan interview.

Steve's back at work and the kids seem happy to see him, though they are sad that the 'easy' sub days are done. He's glad for the routine once more, especially with the end of the tour looming on the horizon.

Steve has spent the last week fretting over what to do, he's talked to Robin and Dustin about it, weighing the pros and cons. He's talked to Wayne about contingency plans for the apartment, if he has space for one of them to go there.

Steve is fairly certain Eddie would go stay with Wayne willingly if he asked him to, but both of their names are on the mortgage and he'd rather be prepared for anything.

It's Gareth that calls him, his name lights up the darkened bedroom while the picture of Gareth and Chrissy and Steve and Eddie at their place for Thanksgiving two years ago flashes on the tiny screen.

It's late, almost two in the morning, but Steve is awake. He hesitates before snatching the device with shaking hands and swipes a hesitant thumb across the screen to answer the call.

"Hey Gar," Steve says quietly.

He sits up, letting the covers pool around his waist and stifles a small yawn with his hand.

"Oh, Steve, I...fuck is it good to hear your voice man," Gareth breathes out, he sounds surprised, nervous, "I wasn't expecting you to actually answer this," he trails off and clears his throat.

"I wasn't asleep," Steve shrugs.

There's a pause on the line, Steve can hear Gareth take a deep breath and the hushed words of someone in the background.

"I, God, Steve, I'm so sorry, I hate that we weren't there for you," he continues, and Steve can't help but agree with that sentiment.

It's certainly felt like the only one of his friends from Eddie's circle in his corner was Wayne, he hasn't heard from any of the band members or Chrissy since this happened and he can't say it hasn't stung.

"And I know you must hate us for this--"

"Gareth, I dont--" Steve tries with a small tired voice but Gareth barrels onward, the words getting faster as he speaks.

"I won't make any excuses, we should have done better by you and the fucking label knew exactly what they were doing," he breathes out again and this time its infinitely more pained, "and I hate to do this Steve, I know you already told him that you needed more time--"

"You're coming back?"

"Yeah, we fly in tomorrow actually," Gareth says softly, "and we just, well we wanted you to know".

Steve feels his heartrate quicken, he swallows harshly against the sudden lump in his throat.

Tomorrow? Tomorrow, with no warning, no notice, and suddenly Eddie would be back. He'd be coming home...

"I want to see him," Steve hears himself say before he can clamp his mouth shut, "I...can you tell him that, I need to talk to him?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, uh," Gareth stammers out, then the sound is muffled for a moment as though a hand has been placed over the receiver, lowered voices murmur in the background and Steve feels himself drag in a sudden breath, as though he had forgotten to breath at some point.

"Okay, Steve?"

"Yeah," he whispers into the darkness of his bedroom.

"He'll be there".

***

The clock ticks slowly by, interrupting the quiet of the apartment and every time Steve looks at the clock face it's still only been forty minutes since Gareth texted to tell him they've landed at O'Hare.

It's like the clock is mocking him, the minute hand holding court over the kitchen where Steve has planted himself with a full cup of, now undrinkable, tepid tea.

He initially debated offering to pick them up from the airport, but the thought of their first meeting being so public, the thought of camera flashes and more people asking questions was enough to turn his stomach.

Even now Steve isn't sure how he'll react when Eddie walks through that door, his hands shake slightly and a flicker of anxiety runs through his chest because what if he's not alone? If he brought Gareth with him, or Jeff as some kind of backup or shield from Steve's anger.

Steve scoffs to himself at the thought, they'd seen a lot of Steve over the years, he's sure this wouldn't phase them. Maybe they'd even stand aside and let Eddie take his verbal lumps.

Steve sighs and grabs the mug from the counter before walking it over to the microwave. He sets it for thirty seconds and waits with his fingers drumming against the door handle. He opens the microwave before it beeps and presses the cancel button to reset the time before he walks back to the counter and stool he had been perched on.

Steve steals another glance at the clock and curses, make that forty-five minutes since Gareths message.

The sudden sound of a key sliding into a lock snatches Steve's attention towards the entryway.

Eddie steps through, wheeling his suitcase in behind him, he lets his backpack fall onto the doormat and softly closes the front door behind him. Eddie looks even more tired than he had during the interview, thinner as well and Steve feels that familiar pang in his chest at the sight.

Neither says anything for a moment. They stare at each other unmoving, and then...

"Hi Honeybee".

That's all it takes for Steve to jump off the stool and stride through the kitchen to the foyer, he stops just in front of Eddie, takes in his shining eyes and the sharp downturn of his normally smiley mouth and Steve's last resolve snaps into pieces.

He launches himself into Eddies arms and tucks his face into his neck, it's the first time he's felt remotely normal in the last two months.

"I'm so fucking angry with you," Steve hisses but the words sound more like a sob than anything else.

"I know, I'm angry with me too," Eddie whispers into his ear, he holds Steve even tighter as he speaks.

"I just, you're the person I talk to, about everything and," Steve bites his lip and curls his fingers into the fabric of Eddie's t-shirt, "I couldn't do that, I didn't have you, you’re my person Eddie and you took that from me, and so much shit happened here, you dont even--".

He's fully crying now, so much that it's harder to speak, but Eddie is holding him so tightly he can't catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Eddie says, his voice wobbles and wanes as the words tangle in Steves hair, "if I could take it back I would, I wish I could take it back Stevie believe me".

"It didn't mean anything, it didn't," he continues, raising one hand to card through Steve's hair as he does, "I don't know how to fix this," he admits so quietly its nearly lost in Steve's sniffles and hitching breaths.

"I don't want to lose you," Steve whispers into Eddies shoulder, the material of his shirt is soaked with tears and snot but he raises his face anyway to meet Eddie's own red rimmed eyes.

"Then you won't," Eddie whispers again, he sniffs and moves his hand to cup Steve's cheek, "we'll fight, we'll fight for it and I won't give up, I won't run this time".

"I promise".

There is so much more to talk about now, so much to apologize for, but for now, they hold each other in the foyer, letting the golden Chicago light morph into the bronze orange of sunset wash over them from the kitchen window.

[deoidesign]

something that makes me sad is when people tell me the healthy communication in my writing is "unrealistic."

like guys this is how me and my partner talk with eachother... I'm writing from personal experience...

[hgrve]

harringrove angst (kind of mean steve for those who aren't into that)

thinking of steve and billy having bad fights after starting a relationship, and during those fights steve always brings up the night at the byers.

steve doesn’t really know why he does it, him and billy have made amends, they’re together now and they love each other. except, he kind of does know why he brings it up. it wins him the argument. billy goes quiet and hurt and they don’t fight anymore.

because billy doesn’t want to be like neil, wants to show steve (show everyone) that he’s better. he knows he fucked up, that he’s not perfect and probably never will be, but he thought steve had forgiven him. that they’d forgiven each other, because steve apologized to him too. and how can billy bring that up without looking like he’s making excuses? can’t say you hit me too or you know what happened before with my dad or what was i supposed to think about what i found?

eventually steve does it so much that they stop fighting completely. and, yeah, steve no longer has to deal with the arguments, he and billy don’t scream at each other until they’re both in tears anymore. it’s the best they’ve gotten along since they got together or, well, ever.

but he’s also lost the shy smiles billy gives him when it’s just the two of them, and the little laugh that billy is embarrassed of, the one that hiccups out of him and scrunches up his nose. and, most importantly, he’s lost the quiet nights where billy opens up to him, about the abuse from his dad, and how he felt when his mom left, how much he misses her and how he wishes she’d loved him enough to take him with her.

maybe steve starts getting angrier, and more hurt as time goes on and billy doesn’t open back up. he decides that if billy is going to withhold things from him, steve should start being able to take things from billy too. they still have sex, billy still sighs into steve’s neck when steve slides into him but steve starts not kissing billy, turning his head away when billy tries, turning billy on his belly when billy gets too persistent. leaves billy to clean up by himself as soon as they’re done rather than stay in bed holding each other, enjoying the afterglow together like they’ve always done before. stops taking billy out with him when he hangs out with the party or the other teens, stops telling billy when he goes out at all.

and so, the resentment starts to build up, for both of them, and they’re right back where they started, fighting and screaming at each other. but neither of them will leave. they love each other, after all. steve refuses to have another failed relationship, because what does that say about steve? that he isn’t good enough, loveable enough, worthy enough, just not ever enough. and as much as billy doesn’t want to be like neil, he also doesn’t really want to be like his mom either. doesn’t want to abandon steve like his mom abandoned him, knows how it affected him, how it made him feel, and he won’t do that to someone he cares about.

so they stay stuck in this endless cycle because maybe steve loves billy and billy loves steve, but they don’t always like each other, and they definitely don’t trust each other.

[eddiesxangel]

Just Peachy | E.M

TJ’s 2K request celebration!

Anonymous asked: Hey i was wondering if i could request a friends to lovers eddie x reader, its romantic and the tension finally breaks, its their first time with each other and the reader absolutely blows his mind sucking and fucking him, shes the best hes ever had and he wasnt expecting it to be THAT good, hes just sprawled out flushed and sweaty like hes seen god 🤭🤭 Im just imagining him trying to get up to pee and his legs give out, he face plants in the hallway, his cheeks just out 🍑 and youre both giggling

wc: 2.9k

Cw: friends to lovers, your and Eddie’s first time together, smut, oral (f + m) , p in v, talks about cuming inside but Eddie is wearing a condom.

Concealing your emotions around Eddie had become increasingly taxing over the past couple of months. Although you've been friends for a little over a year, you couldn't help but notice that something had shifted in your interactions with him.

You felt giddy when you were together. Your face, cheeks, and ears would feel on fire whenever he complimented you. You also found yourself thinking about him first thing in the morning, and when your head hit the pillow, fantasies of you and he would play in your mind until you fell asleep.

The flirting between the two of you was so unbelievably blatant, and any time you innocently did it in front of your friends, they would make gagging noises. You never thought much of it because that’s just how you and Eddie were, that’s how you’ve always been, it was never serious for you, until it was.

It was one particular comment he had made that made it all switch for you. It was late at night, and you and he had been smoking together at his place. He’d told you that “you are the only person in the whole world who makes him feel whole.” You could have kissed him right then and there, and that thought scared you.

Ever since that night, Eddie has always been at the forefront of your mind, especially on the night of that party, when he expressed his feelings for you during a game of truth or dare.

In all honesty, Eddie had been set up by Dustin and Steve. They were tired of hearing him go on and on about you for a year and a half, so they fed Eddie a bunch of alcohol and insisted on playing a game of truth or dare.

Finally, when it was time, Steve asked Eddie, “Who do you like?” He drunkenly but confidently said your name. You hadn’t believed him because he was so drunk, but Nancy reminded you, “Drunken thoughts are sober words.”

When you were both sober the next morning, you marched your way to the trailer to set the record straight. You needed to know if what Eddie said had any slice of truth to it. At first, he refused to even look at you, embarrassed by his actions, but when you confronted him about it, he could only nod his head ‘yes.’

Your stomach erupted with butterflies as he confessed he’d always liked you like that. Like more than a friend. He didn’t want to lose you because you’re one of the most important people in his life.

You didn’t let him finish speaking because your lips were on his. This kiss was everything that you had wanted it to be. It’s the type of kiss you’ve only been dreaming about every night before going to bed.

After one of the best makeout sessions of your life, Eddie insisted he take you out on a proper date before things moved forward because “you deserve the world.” His words, not yours.

Dating Eddie was fun and easy. You were such good friends before, so you were already comfortable with one another, but now you got to steal kisses and hold each other's hands without worry. The only problem was that you’ve been on five dates with Eddie, and neither of you has yet to make a move past steamy makeouts.

It was weird, in a way. He was your friend, and you didn’t want to seem too pushy, and neither did he. You both were too chicken to let one another’s hands roam too far without worrying about the other's reaction.

Eddie didn’t even know if you would want to have sex with him. You said you liked one another more than a friend, but you were you. You are everything to Eddie, and if he fucked this up by moving too quickly, he would never forgive himself. So, he played it safe.

Stolen kisses on cheeks, innocent hand holding—he wouldn’t initiate further than kissing until you wanted, but the problem was that you and he never talked about it, and he was not picking up on your signals.

It was coming to the end of your sixth date with Eddie, and you would be damned if you let the night end with you in your separate beds.

Eddie walked you to your door and went for a kiss goodnight, but you stopped him, “I want you to come inside.” You smiled sheepishly, and Eddie, nothing but your local follower, humbly listened to your request.

“Can I get you a drink? You ask as you guide him to your living room couch.

“Sure, I’ll take whatever you’re having.” Eddie rubs his sweaty hands over his jeans.

You come back a few moments later with two beer bottles in hand.

“Thanks,” Eddie smiles, seemingly more comfortable.

“Eddie, can we talk about something?” You ask nervously as you sit down.

Shit, here it was. You want to go back to just friends.

“S-sure” Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, the confidence suddenly drained out of his body.

“Do you think I’m attractive?”

“What?” This is not where he thought the conversation was going.

“We’ve known each other for so long, and this is our first date, and we haven’t… you know…” You look down, embarrassed to say what is on your mind.

“Haven’t what, sweetheart.”

You take a deep sigh, building up your confidence.

“Sex.”

“Oh uh-I”

“It’s ok if you’re not attracted to me-“

“What! No! God no!”

“Then why haven’t you made a move?”

“I didn’t want to scare you away…”

“Scare me away?

“ I’m obsessed with you to the point it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“And I’m not obsessed with you?” You counter back.

“I didn’t think you’d be into me like that…”

“It’s all I think about.”

That was the confirmation that Eddie needed to hear.

“So do you uh,” he ears his throat, “want to umm.”

“Yes,” you nod your head enthusiastically.

Slowly, Eddie leans in to kiss you. It’s soft and gentle until you lean in and press into his lips more.

A low moan leaves Eddie’s throat, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as his hands trail up your upper thigh to your waist, pulling your body closer and closer until you are straddled on top of him.

Finally, he was taking control like you had wanted for so long. You pulled away to catch your breath, pushing Eddie’s brown tendrils out of the way so you could latch your lips onto the side of his neck.

“Mmmm, baby,” he moaned.

Your heart skipped a beat with his words; that was the first time he’d called you that, and you yearned for more.

“God, I want you so bad.” his breath had become heavy as his chest pumped up and down.

“You have me, baby,” you bravely let slip the pet name.

“Fuck” he groaned as the blood rushed down to his stiffening cock.

“How do you want me?” Your confidence was growing with each passing touch.

“Fuuuuuck, you can’t just say shit like that to me, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” You pout playfully.

You could feel his cock against your cunt, and you rolled your hips to test out the waters.

“Oooh! You are a dirty girl.” Eddie grits through his teeth as he stills your hips by gripping onto your ass, and a wave of arousal floods your lace panties. The panties you’ve been saving for each passing date.

“Can I suck your cock?”

“Yes,” Eddie blurts out without a second passing thought.

You slide off the couch, and Eddie shifts forward for you before he undoes his pants while you place a pillow under your knees.

The butterflies in your stomach still haven’t settled as you wait impatiently to see what he looks like. From what you could feel in his lap, he wouldn’t disappoint you.

As Eddie shifts the fabric uncovering his cock, your mouth waters with anticipation. You’re mesmerized by the sight of it, it’s long and thick, and the tip is so pink it’s just begging to be sucked, kissed and licked.

Eddie watches as your face turns into a grin as you bite your lip. You’re entirely giddy as you lean forward to take his hard length in your hand.

A soft “fuck” leaves Eddie’s lips as the tips of your fingers brush the shaft and take it into your gentle fingertips.

“You’re so big,” you purr.

Eddie was about to respond but your mouth is enveloping his cock.

“Oh my god,” he sputters. He cannot believe that this is his life, that he is here with you at this very moment. He never thought his most intimate daydreams would one day come to fruition.

Eddie snapped out of his own head as you sunk down lower and lower until you reached the back of your throat. You tried to breathe through your nose, but it was too much, so you returned to catch your breath.

“Holy shit, baby!”

There he goes, throwing around that word again, which makes you melt for him. All you want is to please him, to make him feel good.

“You like that baby? You like sucking on my cock?”

Fuck, he has a dirty mouth.

A whiny “mmmmmhmmmmm” fills the room and only enhances Eddie’s pleasure.

You feel his hands grip your hair, pushing it out of the way for you. So ever the gentleman.

“Need to see you, pretty girl.” There was no way Eddie was missing the sight of you taking him in your mouth because a bit of hair was in the way.

Eddie was trying everything in his power to not buck up his hips into you and down your throat. You were making it so hard because you were so good at this. Too good…but Eddie couldn’t let his mind wander about how you are so good at head. No, he will allow himself to enjoy this moment. He’s waited 20 months for this moment.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he chanted as your mother slid up and showed the shaft, swirling your tongue on the tip each time before repeating it over and over and over again.

You can’t help but touch yourself as you’re also pleasuring your boyfriend. The way his words were affecting your body was too much to ignore any longer.

“Oh my god, you’re so hot; I need you; I need you now.” he watched as your fingers slipped between your skirt and your ruined panties, and he couldn’t take it anymore. God, he wanted to fuck you so badly.

“Mmmmmm, Eddie, please fuck me.” You remove your mouth and replace it with your hand as you jerk him off.

Your face is dripping with the mix of pre cum and saliva. Your eye makeup was a little smudged from the tears from when you gagged on his cock, but Eddie never thought you looked more beautiful.

“Come here.”

“You going to ride me baby? Show me how much you want me? Or are you going to let me fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Who needs legs anyway” you let out a shaky laugh.

Eddie’s face morphed into a mischievous grin as he threw you over his shoulder and brought you to the bedroom.

He flopped you on your back, and you landed with a giggle that quickly was cut off by a hot kiss.

Before you knew it, you were both finally naked, and Eddie was taking in every inch of you like he was committing your body to memory.

“Perfect,” Eddie whispered before leaning in to kiss you. “Perfect,” he moved down to kiss your neck. “Perfect.” He muttered into your breast, taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth and making you arch up into him. He repeated his actions until he got to your weeping pussy.

“Oh baby, look at you, you’ve been crying for me, haven’t you… You just want so much attention; that’s why you’re so wet for me. Don’t worry. I need you just as badly.” He stuck out his tongue and ran it up your slick slit making you let out a long, drawn-out moan.

“There’s my girl.”

Another wave of arousal washes through you at the term of endearment.

“Holy shit,” you try and catch your breath, but his tongue keeps going.

Eddie fucks your pussy with his tongue so good you can’t believe this is real. He’s eating you like you’re his last meal, and he’s enjoying every last drop.

“Eddie, baby, oh god!” You’re cuming in his tongue before you even comprehend what’s happening to your body.

“Did you just!” He pops up in shock that he was able to make you cum in a few short minutes. In all honesty, he was kinda sad it didn’t last longer. He loved being between your legs. It was his new favourite spot.

A breathy ���uh-huh” leaves your chest as you soak in the euphoria.

“Can we…. Do you want to?…. I can—”

“Fuck me. Fuck me now, please. I don’t want to walk tomorrow.” You begged in your fucked-out needy state.

“Keep talking like that baby.”

“I need you so bad; I’ve wanted you to fuck me for so long, please, Eddie.”

You were so long in your begging that by the time you had finished talking g Eddie already had on the condom and was aligning himself with your pussy.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and you answered by pulling him into another long, passionate kiss—one full of wanting and need, one that was much overdue.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Eddie mumbles before he slowly slips himself into you.

The stretch was so good; you had been more than prepared for his cock, so when he entered you, all you felt was pleasure.

“Oh god.” You clawed at his back, biting down on his shoulder, pussy clamping down on him.

“Fuck, your pussy is so tight.” Eddie was already having a hard time fighting off his orgasm as his hips slowly rocked back and forth into you.

“More.” You plead.

Eddie situated himself so he could fuck you like he meant it, to fuck you so good you’re seeing stars.

“Be careful what you wish for, baby.” You had no idea what was coming when it came to sex with Eddie.

He was an animal, a beast, a man untamed.

His hips start getting faster, and his movements are calculated and raw. Each undulation of his hips into you was so delicious you could no longer think. You’re crying out as his cock hits your sweet spot in each thrust. He works his cock into your pussy as it sucks him in each time, taking him in willingly and refusing to let go.

“That’s it, baby, taking my cock so good” he watches as his cock disappears inside of you, gripping onto your soft inner thighs to spread your legs as wide as they can go.

“Look at that baby,” his thumb brushes your swollen clit, “so pretty and puffy for me,” he praises, and your pussy clamps down on him once again.

“Oh, she likes it when I’m nice to her, huh?”

Fuck he needs to stop talking to your pussy, or else you can’t hold on much longer.

“I want to come!”

“Come on, my cock, baby, show me you’re mine.”

That did it for you. Your second orgasm takes over your mind, body and spirit. Your floating on a cloud as Eddie rolls his cock into it and runs your clit so good you’re seeing stars.

Eddie is out of breath, but he still continues chasing after his own orgasm.

“I want you to come,” you mindlessly say, not realizing you're talking.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you full of my cum. Is that what you want?”

“Please! Give it to me, baby,” you pout, and the look on your face sends Eddie over the edge.

Jagged breaths fill the silent room as Eddie collapses on top of you before he rolls over to catch his breath.

“Wow.” Is all you say before giggling.

“Did I rock your world or what.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. It's too bad it took you this long to do it; we could have been doing this for weeks now.”

“Hey, come here,” he drags you into his arms, stealing another kiss.

“I’m going to get a towel.” Eddie sits up on the edge of the bed so he can take off the soiled condom and toss it in the trash.

Not realizing how shaky his legs are, they give out, and he falls forward.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You start laughing.

“God damn, I fucked you good, didn’t I?” he laughs.

“And you said I was the one who couldn’t walk tomorrow.” You shriek in a fit of giggles as Eddie lay on the floor, ass up face down.

“You’re a goddamn succumbs, you know that? Sucked the life right out of me.” He laughs into the floor.

“Your ass is like a fuzzy peach, I want t to bite it.”

“Why don’t you come over?” he says, dragging you into his arms. And have a taste, then.

[notafunkiller]

out of style

Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 7.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.

You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.

You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.

“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.

“Vodka so early?”

You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.

“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.

He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.

God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.

“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!

“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.

“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.

“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”

“Huh?” You choke.

“Vodka lovers.”

Alright, time to get out of here!

You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?

And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.

“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.

You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern.  “Do you feel okay?”

“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.

“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”

His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.

He must be looking for a ring.

God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.

You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.

Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”

You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.

You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.

And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.

“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”

“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”

He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”

“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”

“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”

Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”

“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”

You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”

“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”

“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”

He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”

You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.

You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.

“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”

“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.

“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”

You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”

You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.

“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.

“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.

“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”

He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”

His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.

“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.

“Aww, what happened?”

It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”

“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”

“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!

“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”

“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”

“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.

“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”

“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”

“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”

“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”

“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”

“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”

“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.

“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”

“Stop. It.”

“Why? You didn’t stop!”

He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”

You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.

“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”

“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”

“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”

“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”

“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.

His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”

You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.

“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“With my small dick?”

You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”

He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.

“Why would I let go of my wife?”

You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”

He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?

“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”

“What are you, a fucking stalker?”

“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”

“W-what?”

He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”

“How?”

He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”

You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You  watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”

“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”

You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.

“Why would I notice, James?”

“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”

Fair point...

“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!

You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.

Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.

“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.

“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”

“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...

“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”

He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.

“What?”

“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.

“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”

You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...

“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”

You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.

“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”

You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.

When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...

“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”

That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.

“But the wedding… They would kill us.”

“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”

You can’t hold back your laughter.

“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”

“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”

You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”

Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”

“I know.”

*

You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.

“Hurry up!”

“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.

“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.

“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.

“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”

You snort. “My boobs?”

“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.

“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”

“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”

As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”

He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”

You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”

“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”

“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”

“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”

“Then why does it keep coming back?”

He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”

“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”

“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”

“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”

“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”

“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.

“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”

You  take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”

“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.

“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”

Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”

“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”

He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.

“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”

The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.

“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”

“Dick!”

“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”

“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.

Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!

“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”

“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”

He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”

“Eww, what the fuck.”

He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”

Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and eat!”

His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.

You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.

So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.

When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.

There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.

Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…

You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.

As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.

“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”

You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”

“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”

“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”

You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...

“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”

“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”

“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.

“Out of love.”

You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.

“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”

He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.

The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.

He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”

“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.

“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.

“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”

You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“No one for me, either.”

You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”

You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.

Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.

He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.

“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”

You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.

“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”

“I told you I never gave up on us.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”

He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”

“Even when you were with other girls?”

Your heart is racing.

“Never took it off.”

You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.

“No wonder why nothing worked.”

“I had no intention to make it work.”

You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.

“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”

You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.

“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”

He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.

“I hate you so much!’

He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”

“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”

“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”

“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”

“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.

You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.

“Ass in the air, come on.”

You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.

The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.

You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.

“Mine.”

You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”

And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.

“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”

You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”

“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”

He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”

“James...”

He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.

“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”

“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.

You smirk.

“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”

“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”

“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”

His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.

“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”

“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.

“We... we have to apply first.”

He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.

“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”

“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.

You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.

“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”

You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.

“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”

He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.

“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”

He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.

“I love you.”

You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”

Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.

“Bucky!”

“What? We need new rings.”

You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”

“We need...”

“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”

“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”

He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”

“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”

You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.

“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Don’t want to or can’t?”

You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.

“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”

“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”

“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”

“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”

Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”

“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.

“Table. God... Do you think they know?”

“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pills?”

You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”

“I assume you are still on the pills, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.

Ass...

“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”

“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”

“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.

“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”

“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”

He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”

You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.

“I know. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”

“Do you plan on staying there?”

He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”

“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”

“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.

“Why? Is this all you could give me?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.

“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”

“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”

“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”

You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”

“What snack?”

“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”

“I told you she is not-”

“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.

“You’re so jealous.”

“Lock the door!”

You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.

[buckyalpine]

You need Bucky’s cuddles

Bucky x civilian reader

Some angst with all the fluff

You needed cuddles. It was one of those days. Nothing was particularly wrong, you just needed to be held. Specifically by a certain super soldier. Bucky had been away on missions for the past 2 months, only staying home for a few days in between to recover before he was sent off again, leaving you alone in the large compound. Tony had been more than welcoming, happy to let you live with Bucky where you'd be safest.

You'd waited all day for him to get home so you could jump into his arms and snuggle up against his chest, desperate for his warmth. The low rumble of the jet had you running off to the hangar, your feet moving faster than you could comprehend as soon as the doors opened.

"Hi sweetheart" Bucky's voice was muffled as he kissed the top of your head, catching you with ease, chuckling at the way you practically crawled up him, your legs wrapping around his waist. "My pretty girl"

"Missed you" You kept your face tucked against his neck, breathing in his scent, sighing in relief at the fact that he had no injures. You wanted nothing more than to drag Bucky up to your shared bedroom and slip under the covers for some desperate cuddle time, but instead you found yourself being set back down on your feet.

"Missed you too sweets butI gotta finish up some stuff with Steve and I'll see you soon okay?"

Your reunion was short lived as he jogged off behind the captain, both men disappearing around the corner seconds later, leaving you alone again. Your heart sunk as you made your way back inside, shaking off the uneasiness you felt.

Cuddles. You just wanted some cuddles.

But his job was to save lives, keep the world safe and you were just a civilian. Nothing you did compared the the danger he put himself through on a daily basis, you had no right to burden him by being clingy and annoying, no matter how much you missed him.

You decided to busy yourself by making a snack for the both of you, placing his share on a plate for when his was finished while you ate at the kitchen island. You didn't want to bother Bucky by being overly clingy, glancing at the clock every so often, hoping he'd come down soon. You made your way up to see if Bucky wanted to eat anything, stopping when the sound of booming laughter coming from the conference room caught you off guard.

"Bucky?" You stopped by the conference room where the Sharon, Sam, Steve and Bucky sat, papers scattered across the table though it didn't seem like they were particularly busy, all washed and changed into comfy clothes.

"Hey doll, be done in a bit" Bucky smiled while the others greeted you, going back to looking over their mission report.

"Just wondered if you were hungry" You placed a sandwich and some cookies in front of him, hoping he'd take a break and hang out with you for a bit but instead he thanked you with a kiss to your hand.

You left the group to their task, putting on a movie n your bedroom to pass the time, still glancing over at the clock as minutes had turned into an hour.

Then two.

You found yourself holding onto his pillow, your throat oddly tight as if you were fighting against your body's attempt to release all your pent up emotions.

You needed your boyfriend.

You weren't sure why. You missed him so much and the gnawing anxiety you had been feeling all day kept growing with each second he wasn't there to make you feel better.

You felt awful because you had no reason to feel this way yet it only seemed to get worse. Around dinner time, you didn't bother going down, dragging yourself out of bed to change into your pjs and trudging down the hall in hopes that the team would be wrapping up.

It wasn't uncommon for post mission meetings to take a full today but surely they could excuse Bucky from this one at least for a little while. The scent of take out carried down the hall making you stomach rumble sending your emotions tumbling down further. You hesitantly stepped into the room where they were still gathered.

"Will you come to bed soon?" You asked hopefully, shuffling on your feet while Bucky set down the papers he was skimming over. Steve and Sam looked over at you with apologetic smiles while Sharon walked over with a tray of coffee cups.

"I'm a little busy y/n, I'll come up soon, alright?" Bucky glanced over his shoulder to where you stood with your soft pjs and fluffy slippers, not catching the way your face fell as he grabbed a mug and hummed, "we still have to go over a bit more of today's footage, give me about an hour"

"You'll come in an hour?" Your bottom lip jutted out slightly, unable to control the tiny pout that made its way to your face.

"Promise love, an hour and not a minute longer, wait up for me okay?"

"Alright" You kissed his cheek before bidding the rest of them good night, ignoring the way your chest felt tight, not having the guts to tell your boyfriend that you needed him right then and there. You curled up under the sheets, tossing and turning, the bed feeling entirely too empty when you knew he was home, the faint light of the clock staring at you in the face.

You waited and waited, the lonely feeling settling deeper in the pit of your stomach as one hour turned into two. You could hear the sound of laugher from the conference room again as more time passed.

He wasn't coming.

****

Bucky hadn't noticed the time as he chuckled over a video of Sam falling out of the air, snorting each time Sharon replayed it. As soon as the mission was over, he wanted nothing more than to spend the day with you but he figured it would be best to get the mission reports out of the way first. Nothing made him happier than being home, especially when the first thing he saw was your happy face.

He munched on a fortuned cookie, scribbling down his signature on the last few sheets of paper, getting up and stretching before glancing over at the clock, his eyes growing wide when he saw the time.

Shit.

****

Hot tears started to trickles across the side of your face and onto the pillow, no longer contained by your rapid blinking. You froze at the sound of the door creaking open, the faint light from the hall pouring into the room making you bury yourself into the sheets further.

"Doll?" Bucky quietly shut the door behind him, his heart sinking at the sight of the little ball wrapped up under a heap of blankets, the sound of your muffled sniffles breaking his heart further.

"Oh angel" He strode over, slipping under the covers to wrap his arm around you, your tear stained face stayed pressed against the pillow, your arms wrapped around yourself with how badly you wanted to be held. "What's wrong love"

"M-missed you. Just wanted cuddles" Your voice came out a strained whimper, melting into a sob when he pulled you into his chest, stroking up and down your back. "Missed you so much"

"M'sorry love, I'm so so sorry" Bucky cooed, feeling more guilty and awful than ever for neglecting you and not paying attention to the time, squeezing you to his body as if you'd disappear if he let go. "M'here babygirl"

"I didn't want to bother you" You hiccupped while Bucky hushed you, shaking his head, blinking back is own tears as he kissed your dampened cheeks, before cradling your head to his chest again, the steady beat of his heart calming you down.

"Never, you'd never bother me angel, you're my priority, you always come first" Bucky's voice grew shaky, the realization of how much he missed you as well hitting him all at once, feeling the soft warmth of your body against his, the scent of your shampoo, the feeling of being home. "You deserve all the cuddles my sweet little bunny, all the cuddles in the world"

You whimpered while Bucky slipped his hoodie off, letting you rest against his bare skin, holding you securely. He frowned at the sound of your tummy rumbling, pulling away making you whine, his fingers tilting your chin to meet his eyes.

"Did you eat dinner baby?"

"I was waiting for you" You whispered while Bucky internally smacked himself, he had half a mind of letting Steve use him for training instead of their industrial punching bag. The blonde would certain be on board if he found out.

"Come here my love, let me make you dinner" Bucky scooped you up in his arms, carrying you down to the kitchen where he set you onto the counters before quickly putting together his ma's pasta recipe, one of the few meals you'd live off of. He plated a bowl and taking you right back upstairs where he fed you while keeping you tucked in his lap, kissing you between giving you bites.

"Promise you'll drag me out by the ear next time baby, I'd drop everything in a heart beat for you" Bucky cupped your face in his hands after you'd finished eating, still feeling immensely guilty, especially when you asked for so little. " Especially when you want cuddles?"

"You'll cuddle me any time?" you asked curiously while he chuckled, pulling the sheets to cover you both, once again hugging you close to his body, this time the both of you shirtless, bare skin pressed against each other.

"Any time love. Could be in the middle of a mission, I'll find us an secret place to snuggle"

"Any time?"

He turned off the alarm that was already set to wake him up for training, kissing your forehead before closing his eyes.

"Any time"

[buckets-and-trees]

When He First Got Me

Title: When He First Got Me Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 2200 Summary: Prequel in the Exiled Nomad Series. July 3, 2017. Steve sees you at a city festival for the Fourth of July, but he's not content with only seeing...

Content/Warnings: explicit smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, rough sex, emotional unavailability, a broken Nomad who thinks he's fine but definitely is not

Author Notes: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ ANY OF THE REST OF THIS SERIES. True stand-alone prequel. A little something for Steve's birthday weekend... This will be a bit of a darker indulgence for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar challenge: mint chocolate chip (involving a loner), sprinkles (birthday and 4th of July), cherries (meet-cute), and we'll even say some caramel (because Steve is not quite in a great headspace if we're being honest). AND I'm entering this for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer writing challenge: carnival/fair, slight stalker (but not fully), and I bolded the dialogue prompt that I used.

Steve didn’t feel like he could breathe easily, but he did feel like he could breathe here. Nothing like New York or DC. A place small enough not to be noticed but big enough to blend in without drawing attention as a stranger.

Being invisible somewhere had been easier than carving out the opportunity to do so solo over the 4th of July – less because it was America’s Birthday and more because it was his. Steve had suggested Wanda finally reconnect with Vision (they’d been on the run long enough, it should be safe for her to reach out and discreetly stay off the grid). The case he made to Sam was that he’d been on the run for over a year, and the 4th was less expected for a sentimental return to stop in on family but would still afford a holiday’s community celebrations and to give him reasonable cover to slip in and out. Nat hadn’t needed convincing. She saw, asked if he was sure, but understood without him needing to explain, and said she had things of her own that she’d take care of.

He just didn’t want any of the fuss of them trying to make him feel better on his birthday.

Steve was sitting on a shaded grassy knoll in the city park, hundreds of people around him, all weaving in and out of booths with games, vendors, and food, a vibrant temporary set up for a few days around the 4th, and on the far side of the park the sounds of carnival rides underscored it all.

He hadn’t come to this place to find someone.

But the moment he first noticed you, the plans started forming in his head before he could stop them.

And why should he stop them?

As he alternated between sketching in his notebook and people-watching, people watching turned into watching only you – you wandering this place clearly alone. Must be on your own in this city.

It would be so easy to harmlessly bump into you.

So he did.

When you recognized him, he could easily use the moment to draw you into keeping his presence in such a public place secret, getting you to trust him by him “trusting you” with his secret.

And he did.

He could easily ask if there were any good places to eat in town, then ask if you would join him.

He did, and you did.

After walking you home, it would be so easy to get you to invite him in, an afternoon and evening of conversation, compounding moments, and more and more casual touches on your arm, your shoulder, the small of your back, the back of your hand, having your body attune to him.

And it worked.

You hesitated, but invite him in you did.

And he tried for a moment to convince himself that being invited in had been all he wanted – to be someplace that wasn’t a stolen moment or a hotel room or a safe house that itself wasn’t very safe, just to be someplace private, someplace normal, someplace that felt like home.

But that was not the only thing he wanted.

And why shouldn’t he take the rest of what he wanted? After everything, didn’t he deserve it?

You didn’t notice that he locked the door behind him. You’d been apologizing for the state of your place, though after a quick glance around, he assured you it only looked lived in, not a mess.

Not like the mess he was so eager to make you into beneath him.

After insisting you didn’t need to get anything for him, he sat on your couch. He told you how nice it was just to sit there, nowhere to be, no reason to hide, how tired he was of running. You listened; you soothed him. He leaned in and kissed you.

You kissed him back.

All he did was kiss you until you leaned back on the couch and urged him along with you.

He let his chest press into your deliciously soft body. He groaned into the kiss, and you opened your mouth to his. This kisss grew in fervor, tongues exploring and tangling with each other. His hand ran up and down your thigh, slowly coaxing you to hitch it up around his waist. You moaned when he ground gently against your core – gentle only to test the waters. His need was mounting exponentially, and he knew the damn would break soon. He intended to let it.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your shoulder, kissing there before teasing his lips and teeth and tongue along your collar bone to the sensitive point of your neck. You sighed in bliss, and he moved his hand back up your thigh, over your hip, across your stomach, undid the top button he found there, and started to reach into your jeans.

Your breath hitched, and your hands flew to his.

“Steve, wait,” you said.

But you didn’t say stop.

He waited.

He could hear the wild racing of your heart beneath him.

The pressure of your hands on his body didn’t change, no part of you shifted to move away. Your eyes closed, the only sign of your reticence were your teeth worrying your bottom lip.

Steve slid his hand down to cup your pussy and his fingers found the wetness growing there that he expected. You let out a shuddering breath as his fingers worked your labia, but he didn’t linger there. He pulled his fingers out and then pushed them into your mouth.

“Neither of us wants to wait,” he snarled as you licked your slick from the pads of his fingers. “And it’s summer, we’re supposed to be having fun.”

Super soldier serum running through his veins, Steve picked you up with ease, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist, while he held one of your thighs and pressed his other hand at the base of your spine, pinning you securely to him while he captured your lips to kiss you again.

He easily found your bedroom, and he lowered you to the bed in a kneeling position. He didn’t relent in his kissing, devouring you, demanding your supplication. He only broke off the kiss once you were breathless, moaning, and pulling at his clothes. Then he stepped back and told you to undress. Steve quicky removed all his own clothing while keeping his eyes on you. You only removed your shirt and jeans, leaving you in your underwear, but he could work with that for now. He’d have you willing to shed the rest soon enough.

Steve got up on the bed with you, pleased that he could see your eyes darkening with the lust and the want. He recognized exactly the kind of want he was dealing with – it was how he imagined he would have behaved before living the harsh life of denial he’d lived while exiled and on the run for the past year. The old him would have wanted but been hesitant, gone slow, paid attention to more of the dance before even getting into bed.

He didn’t have the luxury of time or the patience for that.

He only had an insatiable need that he’d pushed down and ignored – ignored for years even before becoming Nomad. He’d denied himself so many things, sacrificed for others, for missions, too many legitimate and imagined reasons holding him back.

He wouldn’t hold back now.

But he would coax you into needing him as much as he needed you.

You only glanced at his naked groin with a moment of hesitance as he pulled you into his lap, but you still let him. He resumed your kissing, and you were quick to continue making out with him. He allowed you take the reins to steer the kissing, letting you lap up at the pace you wanted. He let his hands roam over your back as he eased you along, seemingly unhurried. But his hands soon made their way to your hips, and he secured his grip there and began grinding you down against his hard cock. He moaned unabashedly into your mouth as he adjusted the angle of your hips and continued rocking your core against him.

He was insistent on torturing you where your most intimate parts met until, clinging to his shoulders, you threw your head back, gasped for air.

“Steve,” you keened his name, clearly in the early stages of sweet ruin that he wanted.

He smirked against your neck and laid you down on your back with deceptive sweetness. He kissed slowly down your chest, between your breasts, down over your belly button. His fingers hooked into the top of your panties just as his lips arrived at the top of that fabric, and he peeled them down and fully off your legs. Your fingers worked anxiously over the sheets beneath you as he made you wait for him to touch you more.

His hands opened your legs back up, pushing at your knees to splay you open like a butterfly beneath his attention.

He worked both of his thumbs up and down over your labia, smearing your cunt with your juices, studying what he was about to claim and ruin. Then he looked up at your face and said, “This is mine now, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” your voice was soft, nervous, but also eager.

It hadn’t actually been a question, but he wanted you to say it out loud.

The only question was how he wanted to take you first.

Since he planned on taking you in every way, he went with the most convenient first, easing his cock into you slowly, but with no apologies for how thick he was, pressing into you despite the resistance – not that of a virgin, but of a cunt that had never taken a cock so big before. You cried out – but he knew the tone of it was pain drenched with bliss, he could hear it. What’s more, when he was fully sheathed inside you, he waited, unmoving. He watched your chest rise and fall with a few breaths. When you finally shifted your hips against his, he knew he had won. You wanted more. The beast inside of him surged in satisfaction, and then he began to aggressively thrust in and out of your tight channel.

He leaned forward, and your knees hitched up around his waist to urge him on. You clawed at his back, and when he reached between your bodies and found your swollen clit, he rubbed furious circles over it until he was rewarded with the clenching of your cunt around him, the seizing up of every muscle in your body, as he delivered your first orgasm of the night.

He continued pumping in and out of your spasming cunt until he was right at the edge, then pulled out and fisted his cock with only two more strokes before releasing hot ribbons of cum over your stomach.

Your fingers inched hesitantly toward the mess, and he put his hand over yours and pushed your fingers and his through the mess, pressing it into your skin. Then he moved your hands away and lowered his body down onto yours, the sticky spend between your skin and his there.

“I…” you started, but then paused.

He slipped his other hand beneath your head, cradling it in his palm. “Mmm?” he hummed against the spot behind your ear.

“I’m clean and have an IUD.”

He groaned and nipped at your neck. “You want me to continue to fuck you more. You want me to cum inside you.”

“Yes, Steve,” you simpered.

“Mmm, such a good girl,” he pressed a hot kiss against your neck, then rolled off being on top of you, and to his side next to you. “Best give you what we both want, then,” he said as he turned you onto your side, back pressed to his chest, and felt below to press his dick into your hole again.

Hours later when its far past midnight, you’ve passed out from exhaustion.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

But when he slipped back onto your bed after taking a piss, you scooted your body in next to him, put your hand on his chest, and muttered the sleepiest, “Happy birthday,” to him he’d ever heard. He almost wondered how you knew switching from the third to the fourth meant it was his day, but then he remembered the time when seemingly everyone knew it was Cap’s birthday.

While he wasn’t Cap anymore, it still struck something in him and made his chest warm.

But he didn’t feel like you would make a big deal out of it or make him feel bad and that maybe it would be nice to be with someone on his birthday, so he decided to stay. He told himself it was to be distracted chasing more bliss with your body. He ignored the other thoughts working through his mind. He only wanted – only needed – the distraction. Nothing else.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

NEXT: July 4, 2017. read more Exiled Nomad Series

I'M GLAD Steve's POV won in the poll I ran earlier this week... clearly since I made the poll my muse was leaning heavy towards it anyway, but this was certainly illuminating to see more of where Steve's head is at in this ... situationship.

[munson-blurbs]

I don’t know if you do Steve or(I have mostly seen your Eddie work which I love by the way)Eddie

but I’m let you choose but ex reader and (Steve or Eddie) angst to fluffy smut at the end and maybe they saw each other at the bar or something and those feelings turn into sweet ole fluffy smut 🫡 ( PFT I don’t know if that make sense) 😭💀

Eddie exes-to-lovers? I'm in.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, fingering, angst, hurt/comfort, jealousy, the fluffiest smut I've ever written

WC: 3.2k

Divider credit to @saradika-graphics

You hated Eddie Munson. 

You hated the way he sloppily cut the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt in an obvious attempt to show off his tattoos. 

You hated the way he couldn’t keep a secret, always forgetting that they were supposed to be secrets in the first place. That’s how he’d spoiled your surprise birthday party. 

You hated the way he constantly sabotaged his own success. One would think he’d take you up on your offer to do homework together after his first failed senior year; instead, he’d practiced guitar riffs while you pored over your algebra textbook. Needless to say, he didn’t pass that year, either. 

You hated Eddie Munson and everything about him. 

And right now, you particularly hated the way he sat across the bar, talking to another girl and occasionally taking a sip of his drink. 

That used to be you, your fingers laced with his while he told you stories you’d heard one hundred times before. He’d bring your hand to his lips and kiss it, his lips curving into a smile before they even touched your skin. 

“I can’t believe you’re mine. Never gonna let you go, y’know that? You’re stuck with me forever.”

That ‘forever’ ended four years ago, when you went off to college and he needed to stay behind to finish high school. Cracks began showing as early as application season, the fracture complete once you decided to go to Northwestern without even considering Hawkins Community. 

“I don’t understand why you’d wanna go to that big, fancy school anyway. It’ll just be a bunch of rich preps and douchey frat guys guzzling beers through their assholes.”

You refrained from reminding him that he and Jeff had almost tried that same feat, and probably would have if you didn’t intervene. 

“Babe, it’s an amazing school. And I’ll be home on holidays and you can visit whenever you want.”

Even as you’d said it, you knew it wasn’t enough for him. It was a pulled thread in your tight-knit relationship, one that unraveled it throughout the summer. And just one week into your first semester, Eddie had uttered those dreaded words into the phone. 

“I don’t think this long-distance thing is gonna work out.”

That was that. The end of you and Eddie. 

Now, in that dimly lit bar, you tore your gaze from him and his date. Your drink shook in your trembling hand as you lifted it to your lips. 

Robin clocked your uneasiness, her eyes flicking over to where you’d been looking. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, shaking her head. She glanced at you with nothing but sympathy. “You wanna get outta here?”

You gave your friend a grateful smile, but ultimately declined. “We just got our drinks.” You gestured to her barely-sipped rum and Coke. “We can go once we’re done.”

The two of you forged ahead with a conversation, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Eddie and his date. Maybe it was the vodka making you more emotional, but tears pricked at your lash line when you saw him lean in and kiss her. 

“A-Actually, maybe we should leave.” You were only halfway done with your drink, but the thought of staying and continuing to watch him had you ready to hurl it all up. 

Robin nodded, grabbing her purse and closing out the tab. When she turned back to you, she froze. 

“What?”

“He’s looking at you.”

And dammit if your heart didn’t flip-flop. You did your best to ignore it, ignore the spark of hope it gave you. 

“He’s…” Your words caught in your throat. “C’mon, let’s just go.”

You couldn’t sleep that night. The image of Eddie holding someone else’s hand flashed through your mind every time you closed your eyes. And the way he’d leaned in to kiss her, like he’d done it one thousand times before—it gnawed at you from the inside out. 

Tears slid down your cheeks and seeped into your pillowcase. You would have gone to the ends of the Earth to make that relationship work, while Eddie threw in the towel after just one week. You’d called him up in the dorm’s common room, expecting to talk to him about your day. 

Instead, you’d gotten dumped via phone call. 

You gave up on falling asleep around 4:30 AM. Padding into the kitchen, you brewed yourself a cup of coffee and poured it into your favorite mug. Steam tickled your nose as you took a sip, savoring the cocoa notes and the bitterness you craved that morning. Last night’s events came rushing back as soon as the caffeine hit your bloodstream. Eddie. The girl. The way he looked at her…did he ever look at you that way? It was bizarre seeing it from a different perspective.

The morning air was already humid, summer’s heat seemingly always unrelenting. You stretched out your legs on the steps of your front stoop, letting your muscles unclench as you breathed in a new day. 

It was just you, a smattering of chirping birds, and…a car rumbling down the street?

Hawkins was not a busy enough town for people to be driving down your sleepy street at this hour, and it wasn’t garbage day.

From around the corner came a familiar van. Your heart lurched in your chest when it came to a stop in front of your house. No. There was no way. Someone else in town must have the same exact van as him…with the same exact dent in the driver’s side door from when he’d opened it into a tree…

You scrambled to your feet, coffee sloshing over the side of the mug and onto the cement below you. 

“Hey, wait!” Eddie called out from his open window. He was dressed in a flannel and jeans, no doubt borrowed from his uncle. Killing the ignition, he hustled over to you before you could get through the door. “I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

Eddie shook his head and blew out a breath. “Look, I just…I wanted to tell you this at the bar, but you ran off–”

“So you came to my house?” You rolled your eyes. “Not creepy at all.”

He ran a hand through his curls. It was then that you noticed the missing rings, the skin slightly paler where they normally wrapped around his fingers. He tracked your gaze and looked at you with a bashful smile.

“Can’t wear them at the plant. I gotta tie my hair back, too.” He slid a ponytail holder off of his wrist and pulled back his frizzy mane, scrunching up his nose. “Always gives me a headache, though.”

You felt your guard slipping with each word he spoke. “It’s probably just too tight.” Without thinking, you gently tugged the rubber band farther from his scalp. “Better?”

“Yeah.” His voice was soft. Tender. Everything you remembered it to be back when things were good. “Please…can we talk?”

Despite your lingering heartbreak–or perhaps because of it–you nodded.

Eddie’s shoulders sagged in premature relief; the difficult part still laid ahead of him. “I didn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t sleep last night. Not after seeing you.” When his hand brushed against yours, you instinctively pulled away.

“No.” You held your ground as best as you could. “No, Eddie. You don’t get to touch me anymore. Especially not when you were the one with another woman.”

“Technically, so were you.” The joke fell flat, and he cleared his throat. “All right, fine. It was a second date with someone I met last week at the Hideout. Not someone I’m committed to.”

“Right. Because if you were committed to her, you’d just break up with her on the phone.”

Eddie reeled back, your retort a sucker-punch right to his gut. He took a few seconds to collect his thoughts before speaking again. “You don’t understand how hard it was for me,” he finally said, “to know you were far away, surrounded by a bunch of smart guys, while I was in my sixth year of high school.”

“I didn’t care about that—”

“But I did!” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. “God, I could just picture the conversations you’d have with your new friends: ‘Eddie? He doesn’t go here; he’s still in high school. No, he’s not younger than me. He’s actually a year older. He’s just an idiot.’”

A huff escaped your lips. “I’d never say that!” Did he actually think you’d even consider it?

“But you could’ve!” He scraped a tooth against his lower lip. “It would’ve been the truth!”

“Except you’re not an idiot,” you protested. “And throwing yourself a pity party isn’t going to make me feel bad for you.”

You downed what remained of your coffee, now only lukewarm. 

“No, I know. I know.” Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and shut his eyes. “This is coming out all wrong. Please, can we just go inside?”

No. The answer sat right on your tongue. And yet you found yourself opening the door and letting him in. 

Eddie sat down on the couch, making sure to leave enough space for you. He sighed when you remained standing, but began speaking again nevertheless.

“I’ve thought about you every goddamn day. And I know that’s not enough,” he rushed to add before you could say it yourself, “but I need you to know that I have. I wanted to call you a million times, but I always talked myself out of it. Figured it would just make you angrier.”

“You could’ve at least apologized.” You didn’t bother hiding the hurt in your voice; that façade had long since passed.

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” When he looked at you, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “I’m sorry I let my insecurities ruin everything. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m sorry that I never got to see your dorm room, or meet your new friends, or watch you walk that stage at graduation. I…”

Eddie was fully sobbing on your sofa, wiping his cheeks with calloused palms. “And I’m sorry that I still love you. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go.”

He’d laid it all on the table for you, not hiding a single card in his hand. His gaze was raw with vulnerability; it seared into the hardened ice encasing your heart. 

“When I saw you at the bar last night…when I saw you looking at me…” Eddie let out a huff of air. “Maybe I was just getting my hopes up, but it felt like a part of you might still love me, too.”

And as that realization unraveled, as it unfurled like a flower finally blooming after winter’s frost, you found yourself nodding in agreement. 

All at once, Eddie stood in front of you. “Please say it,” he whispered, delicately cupping your face in his hands. “I need to hear you say it. Only if you mean it.”

“I still love you.” Your nose grazed his. “I don’t want to, but I do.”

“You don’t want to because I broke your heart?” When you answered in the affirmative, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “What if I promise that I’ll never break your heart again? What if I promise that it’s always been you?”

Your voice was soft, barely audible, when you told him, “Prove it.”

Eddie’s lips found yours, a magnetic pull that hadn’t weakened in the nearly four years you’d spent apart. “Course I’ll prove it,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Spend the rest of my goddamn life proving it.”

His hands slid up underneath your shirt, a ratty old tee reserved strictly for bedtime. There was no time to worry about it being the least sexy article of clothing you had; before you knew it, Eddie tugged it over your head and tossed it aside. He whimpered as he grabbed your breast, circling the nipple with his thumb. 

You’d only gotten two of his flannel buttons undone when you stopped. “Eddie, wait—don’t you have to go to work?”

Eddie laughed, his breath tickling your neck over the spot he’d been kissing. “I’ll just have to be late. Got something…more important to attend to.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, the two of you peeling off each other’s clothes until they lay in a heap on the floor. And then there was just you and Eddie, touching everywhere you could. 

“Baby.” The word was slurred, given the fact that his tongue was currently occupied with your nipples, your skin shining where his saliva remained. “Baby…fuck, I missed you.”

He was painfully hard, the tip of his cock flush against his tummy and leaking pre-cum. You wrapped your hand around the shaft, pumping him in a painfully slow rhythm. 

“Oh—ah!” Eddie hissed, steadying himself at your sudden touch. “F-Fuck, I—y-you can’t…too sensitive.”

You looked at him incredulously. “Already?”

Eddie nodded sheepishly. “You know how much I thought about this? Every time I…y’know…I imagined it was you.”

Just the mental picture of Eddie laying back in his bed, tugging on his cock while moaning your name, had you dragging him to the couch. No time to go all the way to the bedroom. 

The moment Eddie climbed on top of you as you lay on the cushions, his fingers drifted down to where you needed him most. His middle finger, then his ring finger, slid inside you with practiced precision. Picking up right where you’d left off. 

You clenched around him, your body greedy for more as his fingers moved in and out, in and out. 

“Eddie…” Just that one word was an effort; every brain cell focused only on the pleasure building between your thighs. “Eddie…Eddie…please…”

He nodded, his tongue darting out and swiping over his lower lip. “I remembered how much you love my fingers.”

It was true; his fingers were nothing less than magic. He swore it was because he played guitar, and maybe that was part of it, but the real reason was because he had you memorized. Knew exactly where to curl his fingers, exactly how to stroke your sweet spot until your legs were shaking. 

“You’re…you’re drenched.” He wasn’t cocky; he was awestruck. Absolutely shocked that you were so needy for him, that you’d missed his touch as much as he’d missed yours. “Gonna take care of you, baby, okay?”

You inhaled a staggered breath and melted into the couch. Eddie held total and complete control over you, and it surprisingly didn’t scare you in the least. 

The last thread of restraint snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves. You cried out Eddie’s name. It was him bringing you to a new level of ecstasy. It was him giving you everything you could ever want. 

His movements slowed to let you float down from the high. His fingers were slick with your arousal, and he popped them in his mouth with a content sigh. 

“Tastes so sweet.”

God, you needed him. Needed him to fill you entirely. Needed him to clear your mind of any thought besides how good he made you feel. Needed him to hold you down and take whatever he desired. 

Your gaze dropped down to his erection. Eddie followed your eyes, then looked back at you. 

“D-Do you…?” He trailed off before composing himself. “I mean, is it okay if I—”

“Yes.” There was no other possible answer. There was nothing else you could possibly want besides that connection, that intimacy, with the man you could never stop loving. “Please.”

Eddie obliged without hesitation. He angled himself with your entrance, pushing into you so slowly that it teetered on agonizing. You knew it would feel good; it always had, even that first awkward time together. But this was something else entirely.

It was as though a missing puzzle piece clicked into place, unlocking everything you had stowed away over the last four years without him. Tears lazily flowed down your cheeks, but before you had time to be embarrassed, Eddie kissed them away.

“S’okay,” he murmured, continuing to thrust into you with utmost care. “You’re okay, baby.”

You managed a smile as you navigated the influx of emotions. You were okay. You were with Eddie again, safe in his arms, his touch both electrifying and soothing.

All that was left to do was sink into it. 

You accepted his love, wrapping yourself in it and savoring every morsel. One of your hands found his cheek, your thumb grazing over the hint of stubble he missed when shaving. His kisses were oxygen itself, breathing life into every cell in your body. Everything was Eddie. Everything was okay again.

And then you started to giggle. It was discreet at first, but then it bubbled over until your smile was too wide to ignore. Eddie couldn’t even kiss you without his lips touching your teeth. 

“Babe?” He cocked his head, examining you as laughter floated out of you. 

“Sorry.” Another peal of laughter. “I’m…I’m just so happy.”

Eddie grinned, ducking to kiss your neck. “Me, too. Me fucking too, baby.”

There was the ebb and flow, the give and take, the push and pull. You and Eddie, working in tandem to bring the other to their climax. 

Your orgasm blossomed deep within you. You dug your fingernails into Eddie’s back and wrapped your legs around his to draw him closer. 

“Ed-Eddie, I’m…” Your hips raised to meet his, filling in where your words failed. 

Eddie nodded and gently kissed your lips. “I know, sweet girl. Just let go for me.”

And so you did. With a cry of his name, you came. You let yourself unravel right there on the couch, and before long, he was joining you. 

“Baby, baby, baby.” He let out a groan as he spilled into you, giving you every last drop. His chest rose and fell as he withdrew and caught his breath, though he kept his hands on you the whole time. Like you might disappear if he let go. 

You reached up to smooth back a lock of his hair. You needed to look into his eyes, no obstructions, when you asked him the question weighing heavily on your heart. 

“Where do we go from here?”

Eddie flinched, clearly not expecting such a candid remark right after sex. He shook off his shock and replaced it with a smirk. 

“I say we shower off first.” His nose brushed yours and he kissed you once again. “And then I’d like to take you to breakfast once the diner opens. I think we have a lot to catch up on.”

You gazed up at him, taking in the chest muscles that had filled out with the addition of manual labor.

 A shower and a breakfast date. It was a plan—maybe not like the ones you made, where every moment was perfectly laid out. And it was more than Eddie’s usual fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants demeanor. It was somewhere in the middle. A new equilibrium. 

“That sounds perfect.”

--

[beomcoups]

F.U.C.K.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship

𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)

It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.

He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple. 

“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor. 

“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate.  “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”

You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.

“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”

“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”

You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.

“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”

You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?

You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.

“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you. 

“I know.” 

You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 

You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work. 

He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh. 

“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.

“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear. 

Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.

“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”

Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”

Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.

He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close. 

“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this?  He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode. 

“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him. 

“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 

You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that. 

“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort. 

Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him. 

The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.

You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.

You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.

You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.

“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”

The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.

“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.” 

You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex. 

“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.

“Yeah. We will be.”

[shadowwfoxx]

Eddie's Vest

18+

(reader x steve harrington)

You and Steve were currently in his car on the way to his house. Today was probably one of the scariest days of your life. With Steve getting dragged underwater and almost killed by a demon bat, it was safe to say today made the top 3 most scariest days of your life. The roads were quiet, practically no one else around. You kept glancing over at Steve making sure he was ok. 

You had offered to drive due to his injuries, however, he was more worried about your “severe” injuries (a few scratches). His eyebrows were furrowed as he was focusing on the road. He had one hand on the wheel, while his other arm was bent, leaving his elbow to rest where the window was rolled down. The shadows from the moon brought out how toned and muscular they were. You move your eyes further down to his chest. 

His chest hair was exposed because of the vest Eddie left him (which you’ll thank him later for). That vest had been distracting you all day. Constantly catching glances and staring for too long. You really couldn’t help it, he just looked insanely hot doing anything with it on. The big white bandage on his stomach brought you back from your ogling. Steve felt your stare, knowing already what you were looking at. He turned to you. 

“Hey,” He said as he put his hand on your bare thigh. You look away quickly, looking down at your fingers. “I’m gonna be just fine ok, don’t worry.” He said softly. His big brown eyes going between your face and the road.

You bite your lip as you shake your head. “I should’ve done more to stop you, you should have never swam down there by yourself.” Now feeling angry at yourself and Steve for being so stubborn.

“I’m still here baby I-“ 

You snap your head to look at him. “What if something horrible happened to you? Huh? What then?” Your tone was firm and loud. Your look was half angry and half sad. Your emotions are all over the place at this point. Steve notices your look. 

You both know that you wouldn’t have been able to stop him. He understands your concern and worries for him, but someone had to do it. You both stare at each other for a bit before Steve sighs and looks back at the road, too tired to feed into your lecture. You huff at his silence before looking out your window. You move your legs to face the car door, shrugging Steve’s hand off in the process. 

“Seriously babe? Can we not do this right now” Steve says. You can hear the slight irritation in his voice. You both know there is no hatred around the words and actions, rather this lecture is out of pure love. You love Steve and Steve loves you. Had anything happened to him today, you would never be able to forgive yourself.

Your anger towards yourself is being taken out on him. Not to mention your fear of what’s to come with battling the Upside Down. You’re so focused on your thoughts that you don’t even feel the tears escape your eyes. Your sniffling caught Steve’s attention. As he looks over at you, his face softens.

“Oh baby don’t cry.” His voice is soft and comforting. He grabs one of your hands and brings it towards his face. He brings it to his lips and gives the back of your hand a few sweet kisses before he rubs your hand on the side of his face.

You peer out the window, noticing Steve turning to pull into an empty parking lot. He parks the car and lets go of your hand. He then pushes his seat back, away from the steering wheel. 

Steve reaches his hand over to pet your hair before putting it behind your ear. You finally turn your head to face him, your lip trembling, your eyes a little red. Your face breaks his heart.

“Please let me hold you.” He begs. That was enough for you to climb over the middle and straddle him, being very cautious of his injury. You wrap your arms around his neck, immediately sighing in relief. Steve immediately wraps his big arms around your shoulders and lower back. You two have not stopped for a second during this chaos to even give each other a much-needed hug. You both fell into a long and comfortable silence, matching each other’s breathing patterns. 

“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” He says in almost a whisper. He rubs your back soothingly. 

“It was so scary,” you’re voice cracks. 

“I know baby, I know.” He says as he hugs you tighter. He presses a kiss on your shoulder.

“I don’t want any more people to get hurt, I just want it to be over with.” If anyone can understand your stress right now it’s Steve. He just wants to be able to live a normal life with you. Without these dangerous missions and having to constantly look over his shoulders. He knows how exhausted you are from having constant nightmares and how you let your overthinking thoughts take over. Steve grabs your face with his hands and moves your face to face his. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you okay? We are gonna get through this.” You look away from his gaze with a slight pout. Steve brings you in for a kiss. 

“Turn off that pretty brain of yours ok? Just relax for me.” He goes back in for a kiss, this time it’s longer and deeper. It’s the kinda kiss that can make you go dumb. The kiss starts to get faster, all that can be heard is heavy breathing. The energy in the car shifted so quickly. He pulls away and leans back against the seat while you lean the opposite way, your arms holding onto his knees to stabilize. 

You both look at each other up and down. Steve now getting an idea of how to distract you from your thoughts. He leans up, wrapping his hand around your neck, and smashes your lips back into his making you whine. Steve moves down from your lips to your throat, kissing that spot that turns you into putty. You let out a breathy moan.

“I like that vest on you.” You say. Steve lets out a breathy laugh against your neck. “You look hot in it.”  

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles against your neck. Steve’s hands move to your hips, grinding your hips against his cock that is now hard. Steve goes back to roughly making out with you. This goes on for a bit before Steve reaches a hand under your skirt and lace panties to feel you. 

“You must really love this vest.” You’re practically soaking now. You moan at the contact finally getting some relief. You felt yourself getting wetter with each touch. He continues his circular motions before moving his fingers towards your wet opening. He starts off with one finger. The contact making you instinctively lift up. 

“Relax for me baby,” He whispers in your ear. You lean yourself back into the position you were in before, making you feel more exposed to him even though your clothes are still on.

“Fuck your so wet.” He goes in with a second finger, thrusting them deeper and faster. You roll your head back, moaning. Steve’s other hand gripping at your hip to steady you. He then adds a third finger and uses his thumb to brush other your clit. This makes your hips buck up and grind against his hand.

“Oh fuck- Steve” you moan louder. You look down at where everything is happening. Your skirt drapes perfectly over the dirty scene below you. You bunch up the bottom of your skirt together and hold it up reveal the not so pure actions happening underneath it. 

“Oh shit honey that’s so fucking hot” Steve chuckles, quickening the pace of his fingers. A squelching noise now echoes throughout his car. You clench around his fingers. So close to your climax. He brings the hand that was gripping your hip to your mouth. Steve rubs his thumb over your lips. You immediately wrap your lips around it, moaning as you swirl your tongue around it. 

“Fuck baby come for me.” Steve says, eyes stuck on your mouth. You moan around his finger. He continues his fast and hard pace to help you ride out your high. 

After you come down from your high, he removes his fingers and brings them to his lips. He moans at your taste.  Now impatient, he quickly lifts his body to remove his pants and underwear. His hard cock slaps at his stomach. His tip was red, dripping with pre cum. You lift yourself up on your knees while Steve lines himself up with you. You lower yourself down on him, catching his tip before sinking down on him. You both gasp at the contact. There was barely any pain as Steve worked you up well. Once you’re fully seated on his cock, you take a minute to compose yourself. 

“Fuck your so big.” You whine as you shove your face in the crook of his neck. You and Steve have had sex manyyyy times, but there’s no denying how heavy and big he always feels inside of you. Steve’s hands find their place on your hips squeezing tightly.

Once you get used to his size, you begin to lift up and sink back down. You go slow, still cautious of his injury. But Steve needs more. He loves how caring you are and how you’re trying not to hurt him but he can’t wait any longer. Steve reaches over to pull the lever of the seat to lower it more. He then plants his feet on a higher platform and starts thrusting up into you and hard. 

“O-oh shhitt”. You let out a high pitch moan. Steve wraps his hand around your throat. 

“Yea? You like when I fuck you hard like that? Fuck all of those bad thoughts out of that pretty head of yours? Hm?” He literally growls at you. You feel hot all over now. You brace yourself on the arm rest. Your mind goes completely blank now, only thing you can process is how good he’s fucking you.

“L-love it. I love it Stevie please.” You moan. Both of your eyes are hooded, completely fucked out as you stare into each other’s eyes. You feel his big, hairy thighs slapping a the back of yours. He starts hitting that sweet spot inside of you causing you to roll your eyes back. You clench hard around him.

“Oh fuck baby do that again-shit.” He says as he throws his head back. You clench around him again. He groans a bunch of curse words as he reaches under you to start giving attention to your clit. 

“Oh fuck I’m gonna come please please-oh shit." You can’t even control what comes out of your mouth anymore. Whining and babbling pleads. Your mind feels like mush at this point. You’re overwhelmed with all of the different sensations. 

“Yea you gonna make a mess all over my cock? Come on pretty girl come for me.” Your second orgasm hits you hard, legs jerking on either side of him. Your pussy milking around his cock, practically begging him to release inside of you. Steve’s thrust becomes sloppy, signaling he’s close.

“Please Steve fill me up, fill me up so deep please.” That pushes Steve over the edge. His grip around your body tightens, bringing you chest to chest. He fills your ear with groans as you feel his cum fill you up. He gave you one final thrust before stilling inside of you. You both relax against each other, taking a moment to catch your breaths. Steve is the first to break the silence.

“Remind me to thank Eddie for this vest.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

Country singer Steve Harrington, who has always leaned more into the pop country side of things (think Wanted by Hunter Hayes), but wants his third album to be more true to old school country roots.

His label agrees but only if he works with Eddie Munson, a rock star who had to leave the spotlight when he got kicked out of his band for, well, rockstar behavior gone too far.

Steve isn't amused, especially because he doesn't care for metal music or rock star shenanigans. He was "raised better" and doesn't think Eddie could sit down and write songs with actual emotion and feeling.

Cue long songwriting sessions where Eddie is trying his hardest to be on his best behavior because he knows this is his last shot at being taken seriously, and Steve being surprised every time Eddie proves that he's talented as a songwriter and musician, well outside the scope of just metal and rock.

They write a song that they're both so proud of, Steve asks if he'll record it with him just for fun. The released version would just be Steve.

Eddie agrees.

It's an incredible duet, something country music has needed forever, but Eddie doesn't want that version out there.

The label genuinely accidentally releases their version instead of the Steve only version. As soon as they realize, they remove it from official places, but it's too late.

Fans have already heard it and have gone crazy over it, begging them to let the radio play this version, begging for this version to be available for streaming. The Steve version is great, but it doesn't have the emotion that's laced in the tone of them singing together.

Eddie finally gives in when he sees how happy Steve is about the reaction to it.

But the label decides they want them to tour together, have Eddie work as his opening act, perform his acoustic songs that haven't been officially released anywhere. Eddie can't do it.

He can't go back into that lifestyle. He couldn't do it to his band, who made him promise that he'd come back to them when he got his shit straight. He can't do it to his fans, who stuck by him through some rough shit, but probably wouldn't support a fucking country music career. He definitely can't do it to Steve, who deserves to have someone with him who can be trusted not to go off the deep end.

So he runs. He hides. His uncle welcomes him home, congratulates him on finally embracing his country roots.

It doesn't take long for Steve to find him.

Because he'd been more honest with Steve than he'd ever been with anyone. He told him about his childhood, his Uncle Wayne, his struggle to make it. He told him about his worse struggle when he did make it, how he got in with the wrong people, the wrong things. Prioritized the lifestyle more than his own life.

Of course Steve knew where he'd run to.

Of course Steve came to remind him what his life could be if he allowed himself to find new priorities.

Steve's lips were pretty persuasive, but not nearly as persuasive as his promises to remind him what he could have if he kept his life his priority.

"But what if I let you down?"

"You won't."

"But-"

"No. You won't. You're gonna do amazing things for yourself. And I'm gonna be there to see it happen. That's all."

And he was.

They co-wrote Steve's entire album while Eddie worked on recording his own original songs. He liked that it was an old school rock and roll feel, some blues, some country, some hints of metal sneaking in on a couple songs.

He called his band to come help him with a song, hesitant to even ask, but they came. Of course they came.

He called his Uncle Wayne to play banjo on a song, worried that he wouldn't like the heavier electric guitar notes over it. Of course he loved being involved.

When their tour started, he let himself actually feel nervous.

But instead of running, he looked at the man who supported him through it, even when his own career was on the line.

Of course Steve was there.

[thevillainswhore]

New Tricks: Celestial Heavens

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Life couldn’t seem any better — your life long crush, and the football star of your fantasies is now your boyfriend, and your relationship is running smoothly. It’s a dream come true. But when Bucky admits he’s ready to take things to the next level, you’re anxious to make sure losing his virginity is an experience he won’t forget — for all the right reasons.

Which means, a first date is in order.

A night beneath the stars brings the two of you closer together, where emotions run high and confessions sit on the tips of tongues.

Warnings: College AU, Smut, kissing, grinding, dirty talk, praise, reassurance, fluff, fluff and more fluff, pet names, swearing, teasing, first dates, Bucky is a smooth little shit, cute astronomy puns.

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day my loves 🥰 here is the highly requested part two for New Tricks 🥹 the support I have received for part one has been so overwhelming and I want to thank all of you who expressed your love 😭

Beta and divider graphic credits go to @rookthorne - I can’t thank you enough for spending hours of your time helping me bring this AU to life, you’re incredible — this one is for you ❤️

I hope this follow on lives up to your expectations and does our favourite college babies justice. Once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Happy reading my lovelies 💜

New Tricks Masterlist 🌼🐾

New Tricks Playlist 🎵

‼️ Small disclaimer ‼️- while I have done some research, I in no way consider myself to be an astronomy expert. If any of the facts or information I have included are wrong, I apologise profusely.

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, you hum a tune to yourself while waiting for the door to open. 

The impulse to knock again after only a moment of waiting is overwhelming and your impatience begins to wane. You grip the canvas strap of your tote bag which is full to the brim with notepads and books, when the door suddenly swings open to admit you.

“Hey–! Oh, it’s you.” Disappointment sours your tone upon seeing Steve in the doorway. You push past his broad frame and enter his apartment to look for the true reason you are there, paying no mind to the scoff that falls from his lips. 

 

“Yes, hello sis. So good to see you, too!” Steve stays by the door, unmoving and starts conversing with himself. “How am I? I’m great, thanks for asking—how about you? Come on in, we’ll have a drink.” 

You shake your head, huffing a laugh while you scold him playfully, “Oh hush, Stevie, don’t be so butthurt.” From down the hallway, you see a light casting shadows along the floor — the source coming from a slither of an open door. A flicker of red hair disappears around the door frame. “Huh,” you muse, a smirk dancing on your lips. “You should know by now I’m not here for you. Where is he?” 

Steve sighs. “He’s–”

“Buttercup!” Bucky’s shout from his bedroom interrupts Steve, and it snaps your focus towards the direction of his voice. “Baby!”

The heavy thud of his rapid footsteps echoes down the hallway towards the living room, where you currently stand waiting for him, and you can’t help but giggle with amusement at his excitement. 

He appears in a blur, skidding into the room with grace akin to a drunken swan — a pink blush dusts over his cheekbones and the boyish charm of his eager smile makes your stomach flutter. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows, and he covertly attempts to catch his breath from the sudden burst of excitement. 

“–There,” Steve finishes, lamely. 

The bright, pretty smile on Bucky’s lips and how his eyes grow wide when he sees you makes you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. “Hi, Buttercup,” he breathes, and the pure innocence of his greeting melts your heart.

You can’t help but copy his smile as you make your way towards him, where he positively vibrates in place. “Hi to you too, handsome.” The cotton of his shirt is soft under your palms, and you meet his lips with a small kiss. The brush of his plush lips against yours makes you sigh against his mouth, and his hands sneak around your waist to grip your hips, keeping you in place against his chest.  

He wasn’t going to let you sneak away with just the one kiss — he never does. 

A more insistent press from his lips makes you part your own, and he runs his tongue over your bottom lip.  

“Guys,” Steve whines, “Get a fucking room — I don’t want to see that shit!” 

The effort to pull away from Bucky’s lips is beyond tolerable, but you refuse to turn and look at Steve as you say, “Sorry, bro,” with little to no remorse for his fragile disposition as the older brother. Bucky does not tear his focus from you, rather, his lips quirk in a playful smirk at your snark. 

Unbeknownst to you and behind your back, your brother’s mouth upturns in a smile; the two most important people in his life finally together and so sickeningly in love. 

As of a few weeks ago, Bucky and you started officially dating after a shy, whispered question during the late Sunday morning of your first weekend together. 

Bucky’s small, timid question of what the two of you were once he dragged you back to bed — after the clean-up from a spilled gift basket in his haste — set the butterflies in your stomach aflame. 

Of course, there was no other answer but to rid the doubt in his mind and reassure him. 

From then on, the two of you lived in your own bubble of bliss. You, over the moon to finally be with your long-time crush; Bucky, unbelieving of the reality that he has and is deserving of the girl of his dreams, who loves and nurtures all aspects of him. 

The only way to describe you both during this honeymoon phase is inseparable — spending every single spare moment through college life with one another. 

But no matter how badly you wanted to be with him, and spend more time staring at his handsome features, your art finals were also crucial business — as was keeping Bucky’s GPA intact. The scholarship he revered depended on it. 

Steve’s voice brings you from the torrent of memories and back to the present where Bucky held you fast against his chest still. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You reach around Bucky’s neck and twirl your fingers through his hair before whispering loud enough for only him to hear, “Ready to go, Puppy?”

The red flush of his cheeks and the part of his lips has you trying to hide the satisfied smirk that threatens to pull at the corner of your mouth — his new nickname borne from a quick-witted quip you thought nothing of, truly is one of your greatest accomplishments to date. 

You remember it perfectly.

Bucky leaned against the headboard, his lips in a full pout, and arms crossed tightly across his chest. The bare expanse of skin was shadowed by the low light of your bedside lamp. “No,” he grumbled, furrowing his brows with his sudden, foul mood. 

“Bucky— come on, we have to eat something,” you reiterated for the umpteenth time. 

“No.” The dramatics of his brooding had you struggling to rein your laughter in. 

“We’ve been cuddling for three hours,” you insisted, deciding to reason with the stubborn idiot. “I literally heard your stomach rumble an hour ago. You need food.” 

Bucky sulked. “No. Only need you.” 

“Oh my god,” you giggled, “you look like a kicked puppy, Bucky.” 

There was a deep, impatient huff, and then he stared at you, an expression of longing covering his features. It only exaggerated his puppy eyes. 

A bright idea came to you then, the comparison may just be what you needed to make the boy move… “Here, boy,” you called, patting your thigh with one hand and snapping your fingers with the other. “Come on, who’s a good boy? Huh? You want a treat, baby? Do you wanna be a good pup for me?” 

Bucky’s reaction was more than you could have ever hoped for — his entire body became deathly still for a moment, then his arms slackened to fall onto the bed and a deep flush of blotchy red trailed up from his chest and up to his neck. 

You would have been worried about overstepping if you hadn’t spotted the dazed, glassy look in his eyes, darkening the cerulean to an Aegean blue.  

Bucky liked it. 

The praise, humiliation, spliced with a pinch of demand — the entirely accidental recipe for how to break him. 

Ever since then, Bucky’s new nickname causes the most visceral reaction he so desperately tries to hide, with very little success. The quiet hitch of his breath has you trying to keep your composure, and if only to tease him a little more, you wink at him. 

In the present, he chokes on a sharp intake of breath and coughs. 

There’s a quiet, short bout of laughter behind you from Steve, but you focus on Bucky while he catches his breath, still beet red. “You ready to go, Buck?” you repeat, squeezing the back of his neck.  

The rapid semblance of composure did nothing to hide the effect your words have. He blows out a breath, and stutters a determinedly stoic, “Y–yeah— almost, just gotta— um— run and g–get my jacket.” 

You hum and bump your nose against his before stepping back to let him breathe, “Okay, Buck. I’ll be waiting by the door.” 

Bucky wastes no time in spinning around before taking off like a shot down the hallway towards his bedroom. As he disappears, you chuckle to yourself and wonder how embarrassed he will be when he realises that he is already wearing a hoodie.  

“You’re wicked.” Steve stands with his arms crossed and a raised eyebrow. But by the small smirk upturning his lips, you know he’s just as entertained with Bucky’s fumbling than you are. “He’s so whipped.”

Before you have a chance to retort, a honeyed, feminine voice calls from your brother’s room. “Steve, stop hounding your sister and leave her be! You promised me a foot rub.” 

“Oh?” It's your turn to cock your eyebrow, and you watch, all too righteously, while his cheeks turn bright red. “Remind me who’s the whipped one again, hm?” 

Steve flounders in place, his mouth opening and closing while he searches for the words to no doubt put you back in your place, but another voice beats him to it by calling out to you from the hallway. “Flower, you have no idea! Last week I got him to–” 

“Okay! That’s enough of that,” Steve interrupts, quick to shut down the reveal before it knew the light of day. He stalks down the hallway towards his bedroom, and as he goes, he yells over his shoulder at you, “Enjoy your time with Buck, sis, please don’t break him, we’ve got training tomorrow. Love ya — see you next week!” 

The door slams shut just as Bucky appears around the corner, clad in both a hoodie and a jacket, and his eyes dart everywhere around the room but at you. The realisation must have hit him, and he was far too stubborn to come back empty handed. 

Decidedly, you don’t question him on it. Instead, you hold your hand out to him and say, “Come on, handsome, we’ve got some studying to do.” 

And just like that, Bucky’s face lights up and he bounces towards you to interlace his fingers with yours. He follows you with ease while you lead him out his apartment to the elevator, the doors opening for you instantly for the both of you to step in. 

The floor numbers descend on the screen, and a companionable, comfortable silence floats in the air. Until you turn to the side when you feel the stare of your boyfriend. 

Bucky’s blue eyes shine brightly while he looks you up and down, taking you in once more, and your heart flutters against your chest with the soft smile pulling at his lips. “You look beautiful today,” he whispers, a line of worship that makes your stomach flip. While holding your gaze, he lifts your hand up to his mouth and places a kiss to the back of it. 

If the heart eyes from the cartoons were real, then your boyfriend takes the gold. 

You barely fight the urge to squeal out loud with the show of heartfelt adoration. “Thank you, baby.” 

The elevator doors open with a swoosh as you reach the ground floor. Squeezing his hand gently, you begin to lead him out the lift and towards the exit. “Let’s get going — we gotta make sure you ace this test.”

In the beginning, it took a while to process that you were Bucky’s girlfriend — an ease unlike any other helped you both fit together so seamlessly, as though you had been dating for far longer. 

That same ease also makes itself known in your shared sexual compatibility.

Ever since that fateful movie night back in Steve and Bucky’s apartment, the two of you went no further than making out at every opportunity that presents itself (or that you make) and grinding against each other until you both came — though it didn’t stop you both from doing it a lot. 

Sex for the first time is a big deal. Bucky’s admission of still being a virgin, and his comfort being your priority, you take every old and new venture into pleasure at his pace. But your hesitance is met with an unprecedented hunger that leaves you breathless with need, every single time. 

Bucky’s eagerness to feel you against him, the heat of your bodies intermingling as best they can between the layers of clothing always made him feral with want, and each time he ventures closer, further than he did before in his exploration of your body, it grows with such passion it scorches your skin.   

You were going to wait on his signal no matter how long it took. But a few signs were telling you, however, that Bucky wants it. 

Recently, your boyfriend has been a little more desperate, more so than usual. 

His whines and whimpers turn from breathy and high, to deep, animalistic sounds that send shivers up your spine. Bucky was already putty in the palm of your hands at the best of times, and to witness him let go of his inhibitions was addicting — you wanted more of him, and you have the inclination that he longs for the same. 

And although the both of you swore to one another that you would head to the campus library to focus on your studies, somewhere along the way, your feet took you straight back to your dorm room and into your bedroom. 

Your giggles and sighs echo off the walls, along with the rustling sound of your bed covers. “That tickles!” 

Bucky, the clever, sly boy he is, figured out far too quickly where the sensitive spots on your neck are. “‘M sorry, baby,” he whispers against your neck, his breath hot and fanning over the delicate skin. His sweet, tender kisses start to turn heated — more passionate and intense as his hands begin to wander over your body. 

“Fuck,” Bucky breathes against the curve of your jaw. “You smell so good, Buttercup — could jus’ eat you up.” 

You softly moan in reply. The sudden hunger in his tone makes a shiver run down your spine and settle heavily between your thighs.

“C’mere,” he growls, and he rolls his body over yours, forcing you to lay flat against the mattress. You quickly wrap your legs around his waist as he trails sloppy kisses from the curve of your mouth and down the slope of your neck. “Atta girl, good girl.”

The feel of his lips against your skin makes your eyes flutter closed, and it’s entirely impossible to withhold your upper body rising with the arch of your back, pushing your covered breast up against his chest.

You can’t help but think of how confident Bucky has grown in such little time — his boldness only adding fuel to the fire.

Bucky firmly grips your waist in his hands with a thready moan, and he slowly, torturously inches them up towards the bottom of your tits. You feel the brush from the tips of his thumbs through the fabric of your bra and shirt, the pressure of them indescribable. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” He squeezes his eyes shut as he tests a roll of his hips into you. The high moan that tumbles from your lips jolts him, and he thrusts forward with a small, disjointed groan — the heavenly pleasure of grinding his cock against your clothed cunt almost too much for him to bear. “Feel so good, Bee — holy fuck.”

You grin up at him, squeezing your knees against his hips. Another thing Bucky grew confident in: being vocal in the bedroom. His litany of curses and range of vocabulary comes to life if he loses himself enough; bold in his actions, he takes charge more and it leaves you a wreck every single damn time.  

“Gotta keep going, baby,” he pants into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “don’t make me stop, please don’t make me stop.” The desperation in his voice is as addicting as the pleasure he so freely gives, and you moan loudly to the ceiling. His pure, feral need to take what he wants only sends you closer to the edge. “Fuck–”

Your whines and pleas for more mix with his deep grunts on every grind into you. “Bucky, don't you dare stop,” you gasp, grabbing at his shoulders and wrinkling his shirt in your grip. “Oh my god, please don’t stop.” 

“Not gonna stop,” he promises as he pants against your neck. “Not gonna stop till you fuckin’ cum for me, Buttercup.”

You grab onto the back of his thighs, forcing him to rock against you faster. Harder. 

Bucky’s whimpers only serve to drive you crazier and with wild abandon, you buck your hips to meet his thrusts. “So close, baby. Almost there— oh, fuck,” you cry. 

Bucky bites the skin of your neck, causing you to gasp loudly and moan. 

“Fuck, doll,” he groans, and he swallows your whines with frenzied need, his tongue laving over yours. The harsh pants for air when he pulls back to speak send you into a whimpering mess. “Drivin’ me crazy, Bee. Need you so bad, you got no idea—” 

“Keep going, please, keep going!”

“—Gotta have you,” he grunts. “Need these fuckin’ clothes off — wanna see your perfect body.”

It’s hopeless to keep your moans at bay. His ferocity has you on the edge and your thighs shake as you balance on the precipice. “Gonna— gonna cum.” You tangle your fingers into his damp hair and pull. “Bucky, baby—”

“I know, pretty girl,” Bucky coos. “I’ll get you there, don’t worry—” 

“Please, please, please!” you frantically beg. The knot in your stomach is wound tight; the fast rhythm of Bucky’s thrusts pushing it to the point of shattering. 

With a slight shift in angle of Bucky’s hips, the tip of his cock rubs against your swollen clit through your leggings, and you scream from the sheer ecstasy that flows through your veins with your climax. “Cumming! I’m cumming— oh my god, I’m cumming!”

Bucky’s hips falter, and he chokes out a raspy moan, “Fuck!” 

The shattering of built-up tension rushes over the two of you; harsh moans fall from Bucky’s parted lips while he rides out his high, his hips continuing to grind against you. 

It all falls on deaf ears while fire still runs through your veins.  

“Holy shit,” Bucky whispers, finally slowing down his breathing and stopping the faltering, aborted thrusts of his hips. The growing wet patch that stains the crotch of his sweatpants no longer makes his cheeks flush with shame. 

Quiet whimpers and gasps for breath leave you unable to speak, to utter just how wrecked you feel beneath him. 

“Holy fuck,” Bucky repeats, and he gently rests his lower half against yours while carefully keeping his upper body propped up on his elbows. “That was–” Hot breaths fan over your lips as he rests his forehead against yours. “So fuckin’ good.”

You laugh breathily and squeeze his shoulders, the press of your fingertips meeting hard, strong muscle.

It’s a peaceful moment; a serene bliss you only find in the comfort of Bucky’s arms. It feels right to be cocooned in his warmth — your boyfriend always making you feel safe. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky says softly, placing a quick kiss to your nose, then a lingering, passionate one on your lips. “I can’t– fuck, can’t believe you’re mine.” 

You smile brightly up at him, lost for words, and with a tired huff, he rolls off of your body to lay beside you. Your chests rise and fall in a soothing sense of synchronisation. 

The slow drain of adrenaline from your body erupts in a sudden fit of giggles.  

Bucky blinks, then smiles hesitantly, a confused quirk of his lips. “What’s so funny, Buttercup?” 

“I just–” You bite your lip in an attempt to stop your laughter so you’re able to respond to him. “Sorry– it’s just a little crazy to me how you’re not as shy as you used to be.” A teasing smirk pulls at your lips. “You’ve gone a little rogue, Pup.” 

Heat creeps up Bucky’s neck and covers his cheeks with an adorable red flush. Even if your man has gained a lot of confidence, he will never be able to rid the bashful puppy inside of him. 

“I should be worried,” you tease. “You’re giving me a run for my money.” 

“Right, that’s it.” Bucky suddenly shoots up and climbs over you, pinning you in place with his hips and thighs. One of his hands snakes up your arm, then the other, and you shiver with the ghost of sensation, only, he smirks. “I’ve got you now.” 

Your wrists are suddenly together, unable to move from the top of the bed and in the grip of his hand. “Hey–!”

There’s a wicked, playful glint in his darkening eyes as he looks down at you. “You’ll learn, Bee, that I’m not a man to be teased.” The hand he has free begins to flit over your ticklish spots. 

“Bucky,” You warn as you nervously chuckle, trying to edge away from his touch. “Don’t you even think about it.”  

That doesn’t deter him though. He runs the tips of his fingers, a feather light touch, underneath your tank top. “Oh, no– no, no,” he tuts. “I have the upper hand now, baby.”

“No!” you loudly squeal, trying to kick your feet to dislodge the weight of Bucky’s athletic build over your lower half, but it’s of no use. 

You burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter — tears start streaming down your cheeks while your boyfriend watches in cruel amusement above you. “Where did all that fighting talk from earlier go, huh, Buttercup? Where did it go?” 

“Okay, okay! I– I lose, you w–win!” 

With a satisfied sigh, Bucky yields and lets go of your wrists to bring one hand down to your waist, closely following with the other as he starts to gently stroke the exposed skin of your middle. 

“You’re too easy, baby,” he chuckles, fondness bursting over his features. 

“Yeah, well,” you sigh in defeat. “You played dirty. Best believe I’ll get you back, big guy.”

A comfortable silence stretches between you both while you breathe heavily and close your eyes against the exhaustion overtaking your limbs. The rush of endorphins and all manner of happiness still flowing through your veins.  

Until, “Did I go too far?” Bucky asks suddenly, his voice timid, small. 

The tone of his question indicates a sense of duality — he’s not just asking only about the tickle fight. 

You open your eyes to the view of his long hair hiding the two of you from the world; your room obscured by the curtain of it. The bright, shining blue of his irises steals your breath with the depth of emotion swimming in them — keeping you firmly within the bubble the two of you created in your passion.  

“Oh, Bucky,” you whisper soothingly, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek — the soft strands of his hair against your fingertips sends an unprompted shiver down your spine. You move your hand from his cheek so your index finger could press against his nose, then up to smooth over the furrow between his brows. “Not at all, handsome.” An effortless smile pulls at your lips, one that he hesitantly returns. “It was perfect, I promise.” 

Though he doesn’t seem to settle. Something is on his mind, that was obvious — his tells are easy to decipher from the time you spent studying his expressions. When he is unsure, hesitant, the tip of his tongue runs over his bottom lip; when anxious, his shoulders hunch inwards in an attempt to make himself smaller. 

Bucky swallows thickly. 

You frown. “Are you okay, Puppy?” 

The soft lilt of your voice soothes his worries, and he takes a deep breath before responding with a wavering, “I think I’m ready.” 

The implication of such a comment makes your eyes widen slightly — while the possibilities are endless for what he could possibly be referring to, you’re almost certain you understand exactly what he means. 

As though he suddenly realises how it could be interpreted, he barely whispers, “I w–wanna have— have sex.” There’s a slight tremble in his voice despite his courage to confess. 

You blink once, twice, hesitating only for a second before opening your mouth to reply, to question him, but Bucky rushes to add, “With you.”  

It’s your turn to swallow — despite the harsh dryness coating your throat. In the past, you had partners, summer flings. Few stayed, and even fewer were worth the trials and effort of a proper relationship. And through those couplings, sex became something that didn’t faze you. 

With Bucky it feels different. 

The connection is far more meaningful to you than any casual hookup from a club, and to know he is in a space where he is comfortable enough to place such vulnerability in the palms of your hands… It is not lost on you, the importance of his choice. 

You look deep into his eyes while you seek his full consent — if only just to quell the doubt that swells within yourself. “You’re sure about this?” 

“One hundred percent,” Bucky confidently assures. “I want all of you, Buttercup. And I wanna give you all of me.” 

Fuck, you curse to yourself. You didn’t deserve him. 

You nod, then say, “Alright, baby.” Bucky grins at you, and this time you rush to add, “Let me do this properly though, okay? I want to take you out; treat you like you deserve.” 

A sudden sheepishness clouds his expression, and his eyes dart downwards to your lips while he licks his own. “Mhm,” he mumbles quietly, “Y–You can do that if— if you like.” 

You take both of his cheeks in your hands, and you tilt his head up to place a soft, loving kiss to his swollen lips. When he makes direct eye contact with you, you whisper against his mouth, “You deserve the world, Pup — nothing less. So yes, I would love to.” 

The night of the long anticipated date night arrived faster than you realise — after classes, study sessions, and accompanying Nat to the boy’s football training to cheer them on, time flew by in a blur.

As much as Bucky begged you for a scrap of a hint or clue for what you planned, you kept it under tight wraps; a lock and key that will not budge for even the sweetest of pleas.  

It hasn’t been an easy task to stay strong against his wide, puppy eyes — on more than one occasion, you almost let slip. But with severe determination, you successfully keep it a secret. 

And by god are you proud of yourself for such an achievement. 

You know for sure that Bucky is going to enjoy himself tonight — every last stop pulled, and with the help from your brother for the venue, you feel confident in the plan.

That is, until you smooth over the invisible wrinkles of your dress for the umpteenth time while you make your way down the hallway towards their apartment, your stomach roiling with anxiety of the unknown. Will Bucky truly like it? What if he hates it–?

A hand with perfectly manicured, blood red nails grabs yours, and pulls your fidgeting fingers away from the seam of stitching to the pockets of your dress. “Babe, please stop panicking.” Natasha’s soothing tone brings you back down to earth. “You look incredible — Bucky isn’t going to know what hit him.”

After hearing of your plans from your brother, she was quick to offer her help with your makeup and hair, which you graciously and gratefully took her up on. You were desperate for some feminine support, and Nat came in the form of an angel sent from the heavens.  

The way she worked her magic left you unable to believe it was you staring back at yourself in the mirror; hair flawlessly styled and makeup ethereal. A shaky sigh escapes you. “You really think so?”   

All in all, as you walk down the hallway to the door that hides your date from view, arm in arm with your guardian angel, there is not one reason for why you are so anxious — though the pressure you place on yourself to make sure this date is perfect is among one of the chief suspects. 

You meant, wholeheartedly, what you told Bucky before — he deserves the world, and you crave to hand it to him. “I mean–”

“Listen to me,” Nat says fiercely as she steps in front of you, blocking your path to the door of the apartment and stopping you in your tracks. Her hands grip your arms, tethering you to reality. “I know for a fact that boy is going to positively die when he sees you.” 

The tension releases from your body with her comforting words, but Nat still goes above and beyond to bring you out of your spiral. “Hell, if I wasn’t already with your brother, I'd have snatched you up myself.” 

You can’t help the small smile that quirks your lips for her instilled confidence, and she winks. 

You’re grateful that Steve has found someone so genuine who you easily get along with. Natasha is a beautiful woman both inside and out, faultlessly honest and loyal — traits that are hard to find in a person, yet here she is, extending her help with little thought or expectation of it being returned.  

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying to convey how much you appreciate her. “Y–You didn’t have to do all of this.” 

“Maybe not.” Her hair bounces as she shrugs. “But us girls gotta stick together — especially now that we’ve got two helmet heads stuck to our back.” 

“Come on.” Her arm hooks around yours, and she pulls you along. “Let’s go get your boy.” 

Before you can blink, you are standing outside your brother’s apartment, and with a deep breath and moral support of the redhead on your arm, you bring your closed fist up to the wood. “Here we go.” Three, firm knocks ring through the silence, and you step back to wait. 

The anticipation doesn't last very long at all before the door swings inwards with a flourish. 

Steve stands in the entryway, his back turned towards you while he shouts into his apartment. “Hurry your ass up, Buck–!” You lightly switch your weight between your feet, waiting for him to turn around. “They’re at the door!” 

There’s a clattering bang and more curses from inside the apartment, when Steve finally turns around to greet you. “There’s my favourite girls—” He freezes in place, mouth slack from shock, and his eyes trail up and down your body. “Flower,” he gasps in awe. “Oh sis, you look so beautiful.”

The sincerity in his words immediately brings tears to your eyes, and Nat hisses at her boyfriend, “Hey, don’t ruin her makeup!”  

“I’m sorry,” Steve says slowly, still taking you in. “I just– you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you.” 

Nat hums happily while her hand rubs your shoulder. “Isn’t she? I said Bucky’s going to die when he sees her.” 

“Guys,” You whine, the hot flush of embarrassment leaves you feeling utterly flustered.  

Steve ignores you though, readily agreeing with his girlfriend as he opens the door wider to let you both enter. “She’s right, Flower. It suits you perfectly.” 

A surge of giddiness hits you — after a time of intense deliberation of your wardrobe, you chose one of your favourite sundresses to wear for the special night, a spaghetti strap in a soft, cornflower blue. A small surprise and homage to someone special. “Thanks Stevie, I really appreciate–”  

“Okay, okay, wait–” Bucky rounds the corner from the hallway as he enters the living room, interrupting you. “What about this one?”  

The cufflinks on his navy blue button-up steal his whole attention, while his long, chocolate hair conceals you from his view. He struggles fastening the cuffs with the subtle shake of his fingers, and you can almost hear his inner frustration when he huffs an annoyed breath, blowing strands of hair from his face. “Dammit, I swear–”

You stand there with thin lips to contain your laughter while waiting for him to look up.  

“Steve?” Bucky asks frustratedly after he doesn’t receive an immediate response. “Do you think Buttercup will like this outfit or not–” His head tilts upwards, hair falling either side of his handsome face that is painted with exasperation at being ignored, and his words falter.

Blue eyes widen in surprise to find you standing there next to his best friend. 

“Oh– fuck,” Bucky gasps, and his jaw slackens with the gravity of your presence; truly awe stricken by the sight of your opulent outfit and appearance. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps uselessly around his inability to speak. 

The click of your shoes against the floorboards doesn’t snap him out of his daze let alone register in his mind, so deep in his fixation of you.  

You take the chance to admire his appearance. 

The navy, button-up shirt clings to his broad shoulders, accentuating the definition of the muscles all the way down to his forearms, and with each movement, the material tightens sinfully. The top few buttons of his shirt are left undone — a choice you’re most thankful for because of the tease of his bare chest. Black slacks fit snug to his hips and grip his thick thighs. 

On any normal day, when Bucky wasn’t out in the field in his football gear, he normally stuck to his casual clothing of an old t-shirt and sweatpants — comfort over presentability, not that you ever complain about the sight of him in sweats. But this is the first time you’ve ever seen him remotely dressed up.

You walk towards him and grab his hands with yours, stopping his absentminded fidgeting — gravity keeping him routed in place. 

“I think you’re absolutely gorgeous, Bucky,” you say, gazing into his eyes while you wonder how lucky you are to hold his attention in a room of his favourite people. “If that answers your question.”

“My god, Bee,” he whispers, finally able to give a voice to the flock of thoughts circling his mind. “You look stunning, baby — ethereal.” He laughs, a little deliriously. “You’re kinda killing me here.” His large hands encircle yours, bringing them up to hold against his chest. 

There’s so much emotion in his eyes as they dart over your figure like there’s not enough time in the world for him to take you in. 

“Give us a spin!” Nat calls into the charged air while she clings onto Steve’s arm, who watches on teary eyed. 

Bucky takes one of your hands and lifts it into the air, encouraging you to twirl. The skirt of your dress fans out around your thighs, and you can’t help but grin wide as your boyfriend whistles low. “You're a goddamn dream, Buttercup.”

He guides you back into his hold, before gently gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger to bump his nose against yours. “And all mine.” 

The way Bucky’s stare burrows deep into your soul and makes a home where he rightfully belongs — it takes everything you have to not blurt out the three words residing on the tip of your tongue, but something has you biting your lip against the impulse. 

Instead of declaring aloud what your mind and heart feel, you settle with another truth, “And you, Bucky Barnes, are a sight for sore eyes.” 

A dusting of pink spreads high over his cheeks, and you take pride in being able to fluster him so easily — your adorable Pup would never lose his bashfulness. 

“What did I tell you, honey?” Natasha bumps her hips against Steve��s as she snickers into her hand. “He’s practically drooling over her.” 

You join in with their laughter while Bucky pulls you close and buries himself into your neck, even more flustered from the insistent teasing, and he grumbles low into your ear, “Great, now there’s two of them.” 

Leaning back to better look at his flushed face, you assure him, “I think you’re adorable, baby.”

His eyes twinkle with a spark only you could ever bring out of him. “I’m excited for the night, Bee,” Bucky declares, honest and sweet. 

“Me too, handsome,” you readily agree while you step back, the small hops of uncontainable excitement making Steve and Nat chuckle. “Are we all set to leave?” 

“Oh!” Nat cries, “Before you forget—” She slips out of Steve’s hold and rushes into the kitchen, coming back a second later with a wicker basket full of food, the very same that she insisted on when she first found out about your date. With a wink, she hands it to you. “You can’t leave without this.” 

“You’re an angel,” you praise, walking towards her and holding your arms wide for a hug. She readily accepts it and kisses you on the cheek. “Thank you so much for this.”

Just as you step back from her embrace to grab her offering, Bucky swoops in and grabs the basket before you can even touch the wicker handle. “Hey! Excuse me, Barnes,” you scold, frowning at him. “I am more than capable of carrying that.”

“I know,” Bucky teases while he walks backwards towards the apartment door, a devilish grin on his lips. “But I don’t care for a picnic basket gettin’ in the way and ruinin’ the view of my girl in a pretty dress.” 

Your jaw drops from his suave words, and you stand there, flustered as you watch his retreating form. Without looking, he opens the door with his free hand and bids farewell to his best friend with a nod, then he smiles at Nat. 

Bucky then looks to you. The flick of his hair as he nods towards the hallway pulls you from the reverie. “Come on, beautiful. The night is young; the possibilities endless.” 

Where the hell has he gotten his silver tongue from? your mind questions. 

“He’s gotten too smooth for his own good,” Steve comments as though he read your mind, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“You don’t say,” you reply easily. To get to the door, you walk past your brother, and he slips a folded piece of paper into your hand while Bucky is walking into the hallway, his back turned. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” 

Steve grins. “Have fun, Flower — you deserve this.” Naturally, it wouldn’t be a traditional sibling farewell without a departing shout of, “And make sure you wear protection, shithead!” 

The Brooklyn streets are aglow from the overhead lights while the moon creeps up the horizon, watching over you and Bucky holding hands. He blindly follows you towards your best kept secret.  

“Let me get this straight.” Bucky swings your arm with his gently. “You’re telling me I can’t have any clues about where you’re taking me?” 

“Nope,” you respond, staying strong to your oath of silence. “We’re a couple of blocks away, you dummy. You’re going to find out in five minutes — be patient, I know it’s hard.” 

“C’mon, Bee,” Bucky begs. “You don’t wanna put a poor man out of his misery?” He lightly tugs on your intertwined hands to spin you into his chest. 

“Hey–” You look up at him to find his eyes hooded with barely restrained lust.  

“I almost died already after seeing you in that dress for the first time, and now you’re torturing me, I have to watch you walk in front of me in the damned thing.” 

Oh, you laugh to yourself. He’s really turning the charm up. 

“Puppy,” you whisper breathily, intentionally running a hand down his chest. The action and your touch makes Bucky shudder. “Believe me when I say I could make you do a lot worse.” 

A deep flush of red paints his cheeks and spreads blotchily down his neck, and his breath hitches when you cup his jaw in your palm. “Be good for me, and be patient,” you warn, the fan of your breath over his lips only worsening his flustered state. “I promise the wait will be worth it.”

“Y–Yeah, okay–” He clears his throat and sets you back onto your feet, though he does not release your hand.  

A flash of mischief darkens his eyes when you pull him onwards, and you look over your shoulder at him when he says, “Yes ma’am.” 

That is something you could get used to hearing. “Atta boy.”

The rest of the walk is quiet but calm — a mutual contentment stretching between the two of you where words aren’t needed. 

You know that around the next street corner lay your surprise, and Bucky still has no idea what is in store — the piece of paper that Steve gave you begins to burn a hole in your dress pocket.  

The exclamation of surprise that falls from Bucky’s lips when he lays eyes on the museum makes all the effort worth it, though it grows to a state of clear confusion from the furrowing of his brows. “Wait, it’s late — isn’t it closed?”

“Come on,” you say in reply, and instead of going to the main entrance, you lead Bucky towards an alleyway where Steve told you the back entrance for staff is situated.  

The crinkle of paper is louder than the cheering crowd at a football game, and you grip the invaluable information as you near the locked door. Steve’s offering rings in your mind: It will get you into the main foyer, from there, you’re gonna need to get sneaky.

Bucky’s hand squeezes yours in an attempt to get your attention. “Bee?”

You’re too homed in on the memory of Steve talking to you about your plan — one of their teammates works within the museum, and he was able to pull a few strings and call in a couple of favours for the gold mine in your hand. 

You determinedly walk towards the keypad built into the wall next to the door and unfold the note. In the process, you let Bucky’s hand go — you instantly feel the loss of connection.    

“Um— Buttercup,” he chuckles nervously, glancing over his shoulders to spot any onlookers. “I think this is classified as illegal trespassing right now.” 

“I mean,” you say, then you stick your tongue between your teeth as you work the six-digit code from the piece of paper to the keypad. The low tone press of each digit covers up the shuffle of feet behind you. “Bucky, it’s okay — it’s safe.”

“But–” He hesitates when the mechanism clicks to signify it's open. 

You look at him and suddenly grasp the idea that he is anxious — his football scholarship and prospective future could be ripped away from him within the hour should the two of you get caught by the authorities.

“Hey, hey, we’re good — no one’s gonna catch us, I swear,” you assure. Though he still looks on edge. You don’t want Bucky to feel apprehensive for the sake of his headspace or the rest of the evening, and your only option is to offer him your most sincere form of faith. You hold out your hand, palm up. “We’re gonna be okay. Trust me?”

  

There’s a small, nervous twitch of a smile on his lips, and then, finally, his tense shoulders and posture relax as he steps forward and sets his hand into yours with an ease that shocks you, only strengthening the solid connection you have. 

“Come on.” Bucky follows behind you, a slight laugh on his breath as you all but run into the museum. 

Different eras of evolution pass by in a flash; hundreds of exhibits dedicated to all corners of the world go ignored in lieu of taking Bucky to one place that, normally, was not an easy area to walk through and explore, given how popular the exhibit is. 

By the time you reach the doors hidden behind a set of double, velvet curtains, you’re out of breath. “O—kay,” you pant, hands on your hips as you slightly bend forward. “We’re — we’re here.”  

Your boyfriend, the teasing bastard he is, chuckles while he extends a hand to your shoulder, “Are you okay?” 

The bastard hasn’t even broken a sweat. 

“Fine — I’m fine,” you gasp, and you gesture at the curtains. “Come on, I can’t hold it in any longer–” The heels of your shoes click over the floor, and you push aside the curtains to reveal the door — only then do you turn around and smile at Bucky. “Here we go.”

The doors fly open with a flourish and reveal a domed planetarium with the signage above a giant moon: A Journey Through The Stars. 

It is a coveted event within the science community, and only after you hear of it through whispers in the halls of your dorms and classes did you realise it was perfect. 

Darkness cloaks and envelopes the two of you as you step inside — Bucky moving slowly in his daze of amazement. On strings and platforms above and lining the dome ceiling are twinkling lights and stars, the only source of lumination to show the wonderment in his cerulean blues. 

You watch from a distance with bated breath while Bucky stares to the ceiling, mouth agape, taking in the moving three-dimensional hologram above him and everything it has to offer. 

The galaxy, with its swirls of pinks, purples, and blues among millions of stars, are brought to life before his very eyes. Planets thousands of times bigger than the two of you cross and circle one another above your heads, closer than either of you could have ever thought possible, and yet, still only just out of reach — the concept achieves the impossible. 

In the end, you realise as you stare at Bucky, your heart swelling with the love that courses through you, that you have gone beyond the very goal you were desperate to attain; to give Bucky Barnes the world. 

He spins on the spot, eyes bright with a childlike awe you have only ever seen on the mornings you've woken up in his arms. The glow of the celestial wonders captures in that second, a memory that will last forever — the sight of your man, the centre of your world, underneath the stars. 

Ever so slowly, Bucky delicately brings his gaze back down to earth, and notices the distance between the two of you. His voice echoes across the room, off of the planets and stars as he asks with a waver in his voice, “H–How did you know?” 

You smile. “That you’re kind of an astronomy nerd?”  

Bucky only nods his head, still at a loss for words. Strands of his neatly tucked hair fall over his eyes, and you take a deep breath and steady your own voice. “Do you remember our first movie night with Stevie and Nat?” 

There is a small hum of acknowledgement from deep in his throat. 

“Well,” you continue, “I remember the two of them were arguing, it took them ages to settle on a film choice. I was beginning to lose my tether.” The recollection of the memory — their voices and banter make you chuckle. “Anyway, a trailer came up on the TV for an upcoming film about an astronaut getting stuck in space — the Martian, maybe? I’m not too sure.” 

He is purely focused on you as you speak, and you begin to recall your favourite part of the memory with a fond smile, ignoring the slight lump in your throat from the overwhelming flood of fondness and adoration. “But I watched– I watched as your head snapped up instantly. You were enamoured, Bucky — I’ve never seen you so hooked into anything more in my life.”

Time freezes as Bucky stands there, unmoving and speechless. The lack of reaction from him makes your stomach twist with nerves, and you rush to fill the silence, rambling on, “Then I noticed the smaller things. Your stack of astronomy books on your nightstand, the NASA merch I find when I steal one of your sweaters.” A small laugh escapes then at his incredulous expression. “And so, I went out on a whim, piecing everything together, and I– well, I thought I should try my chances.” 

“You really—” Bucky swallows the lump stuck in his throat. “You noticed all of that?”

“Of course I did, Bucky,” you tell him with reverence. “How could I not notice something you’re in love with?” The colours of the night sky shimmer over his face and over the sheen in his eyes as he stares at you. Hesitantly, you ask, “D–Do you like it?” 

“Do I like it?” He repeats, huffing a breath. “Do I– do I like it–?”

There’s a thud as the basket he was holding falls to the floor, and you gasp while he storms towards you and picks you up around your waist to spin you around in the air. 

His grin is wide while you squeal with shock. “Damn right I like it!” he shouts with pride. “My girl is the fucking best!” 

“Ah–! Bucky!” The skirt of your dress flutters over your thighs as you hold onto his shoulders.

He whoops and yells his happiness, and after a few rotations, he carefully places you back down onto the floor, only he doesn’t stop his persistent touch — kisses scatter over your face, never lingering in one place for more than a second. 

“You’re — so — amazing.” His lips move downwards from your face to your jaw, then your neck. “Can’t — believe — you’re — actually — mine.” 

The ache in your stomach flutters from your laughter, though you are on cloud nine and find it difficult to care when the boy you’ve had a crush on for so long is kissing your face like there is no tomorrow. 

Eventually, Bucky begins to calm down, settling his forehead against yours while wrapping his hands around your waist. “This means everything to me, Buttercup.” He grants you a slow, final kiss to your lips. “Thank you.” 

“You are more than welcome, sweet boy.” You move closer into his chest and peck him on the lips. “Now let’s have that picnic.”

The two of you sit under the largest planet, and you dive into the contents of the picnic basket to find Natasha has packed a whole range of finger foods from sandwiches, mini cakes, to strawberries and grapes. A small bottle of your favourite drink is tucked into the side of the basket, next to two glasses.  

After a toast, “To what the universe has planned for us,” you both bask in one another’s company — two tiny specks of the universe coming together as one. 

You listen intently as Bucky excitedly rambles about the different planets, as well as his love for Mars in particular. The gesticulation and smile on his face is priceless, and you only wish you had thought to bring a camera. 

Bucky continues endlessly — listing interesting facts about each planet and star he knew, and he goes into detail about any active NASA projects or upcoming ones he’s been keeping track of. 

Not only is he an avid storyteller, he makes sure to involve you in the conversation, engaging you with silly questions on whether you believe in other life out there, and any of your thoughts you have about historical space ventures. 

It is easy to fall into step with his passion, and you know that you could stare all night as his whole face lights up, especially his eyes, while he talks about something he thought no one noticed before. 

But you did. 

The highlight is when Bucky begins to talk about star constellations — his love and adoration surpassing that of anything you had heard from him before.   

He sits behind you, legs resting either side of your body while he holds you to his chest with one arm, the other pointing up towards the dome ceiling. “You see that one there, Bee?” There’s a cluster of twinkling stars in the direction of his gesture. “The large rectangle one — that’s Orion.”

The soothing rumble of his voice against your back is remedying — home.  

“It’s also known as Orion The Hunter,” Bucky explains further. “A Greek name, but its true origin is believed to come from the ancient times of Babylon.” 

“It’s beautiful, Bucky,” You sigh happily. The cluster and the whole of the night’s sky is truly beautiful — once they were just a pattern of lights in the sky to you, now they hold far more meaning. 

“Yeah,” your boyfriend agrees. You don’t see how his eyes flicker down to you, rather, you only feel his cheeks rising in a smile. “It is.” He clears his throat. “The constellation includes two of the brightest stars in the sky.” 

“Really?” You hunch forward a little to look upwards. 

“Mhm,” Bucky confirms with a hum. 

With a huff of effort, you push yourself up onto your feet, and walk closer to the constellation until you are directly underneath the pattern of stars. It’s with a new appreciation you stare up at the twinkling lights that you didn’t have before — admiring the complexity of the placement but the simple beauty of it. 

The reflection from the dome ceiling illuminates onto your skin, tattooing patterns of a realm that will never be discovered for its full existence. 

Bucky, however, focuses entirely on you — his girl, in a reality the two of you once never thought possible. 

A shuffling of feet comes from next to you, and Bucky stands and makes his way towards you. He places both of his hands onto your cheeks to tilt your head back down, to be back in the present with him. “Maybe not the brightest. But that’s okay, because that one is only meant for me anyway.” 

It’s sudden, but it consumes you whole — mind, body, and soul — of the realisation that Bucky Barnes is the love of your life. 

You fight the tears threatening to bubble to the surface, though it’s futile — a few escape and trail down your cheeks to collect on Bucky’s thumbs. Those three pesky words fight to spill from your heart and out into the open, to hang in the closing distance between Bucky and you. 

But somehow, it doesn’t seem like the right time. A fragile moment that while you know could truly never break, uttering those words feels like it will shatter the last of your resolve. 

And so, you save them; sealing your mouth closed with a sworn promise to let them go soon. 

Seconds go by as you collect yourself, and then you manage in a choked voice, “My, my — What have you done with my Bucky?” 

“He’s still here,” Bucky vows. “You just make me so dizzy — so goddamn fuckin’ dizzy — that I’ll spill whatever comes to mind.” 

That makes two of you.

You place your hands over his, still encapsulating your face. “Well, you certainly know how to make a girl swoon, handsome.”

His lips turn upwards in a lopsided grin that shows a slither of his pearly whites. “I would find a way to pull the moon out of the sky if you asked me to, Buttercup.” 

There is no doubt in your heart over that — Bucky would go to the ends of the earth for you. But you didn’t need that, you have everything you could wish for already in the palm of your hands. “Lucky for you, I’ll only ask for a dance underneath it.” 

Bucky’s lopsided grin turns into a thousand-watt smile, as bright as the stars above you both. “Now that is something I can make happen.” 

There’s no music, no beat for the two of you to follow, but that doesn't stop Bucky from gathering you closer to his chest — his arms cross over your back to pull you flush with his front. 

You turn your head to the side and lay your cheek against him, wrapping your arms around his neck to better hold him. 

The steady rhythm of his heart guides the steps to your dance, the slow sway side to side of your bodies. You feel the brush of his lips at your temple, then he mutters something under his breath; a barely there string of unintelligible words that do nothing but add to the peace of the moment. 

Bucky sighs and hugs you tighter. 

The night is only just beginning. 

Part Three

[eddiethebrave]

steddie empath soulmate au

When Steve was younger, he had trouble separating what he was feeling from what he wasn’t. A lot of people do at that age. When you can tap into another person’s emotions, it’s hard to know the difference between theirs and your own. 

In school, they give a very quick, very unhelpful lesson on soulmates - only really saying what kids have heard on their own anyway. It’s unspoken that you’re supposed to learn about that kind of thing from your parents - and most of his peers did. 

In his house though, mentioning your soulmate was discouraged. Steve was expected to have a hold over his emotions and just know what it took other kids years and the help of their parents to learn. He was supposed to have a wall. He was supposed to be able to shut the door on his own. He was to know the difference between what he was feeling and what he wasn’t. And for all his parents knew, he did all of that from a young age. 

What Steve had done from a young age was learn how to hide what he was and wasn’t feeling. Like right now. Right now he’s giving his date a ride home from Lucas’ championship game while simultaneously feeling the most scared he both has and hasn’t ever felt. 

He thinks now he understands better what people mean when they say you can just tell when your feelings aren’t your own. For the first time in his life, Steve knows immediately that this emotion doesn’t belong to him. For one, there’s no reason he should be scared to death while driving Brenda home, and he hasn’t felt this scared since July. For two, there is absolutely no way there’s alternate dimension shit happening right now. That shit is supposed to be over with. Then again, that’s what they’ve thought since that first time with the Demogorgon, too. That time also happens to be the first time he felt fear like this. 

It’s such a crash from the high he’s been riding all evening. Everything was exciting and good for a few hours there. 

With shaky hands, he pulls up in front of Brenda’s parent’s house. He can tell that she’s trying to make conversation, maybe expecting more from the end of their night - but he can hardly focus enough to make himself seem at least a little bit like he’s not about to cry. He stumbles his way through a goodbye, not knowing what’s happening and before he knows it he’s alone. 

Usually, Steve would walk her to the door and probably make a move on her. At the very least he’d watch to make sure she got in safe, but right now he drives away the second the passenger door closes. 

He feels an overwhelming urgency to go go go. And he does. Steve drives faster than he ever has - barring the time he saw Billy’s Camaro speeding towards Nancy’s station wagon and t-boned the boy without a second thought. 

He gets home, and for the first time in months, he opens his trunk and takes out his nail-bat. He makes quick work of getting inside his house and locking the door, looking over his shoulder the entire time. He goes around the whole house making sure all the doors and windows are locked. When he’s checking the back door - the one that leads out to the pool, he hesitates, eyes lingering on the woods that line his yard. 

Before ‘83 - before Barb - Steve wasn’t afraid of much. He felt like he was on top of the world and like nothing could bring him down. Now, though, he only goes to the backyard to complete the yard maintenance expected from him by his parents. 

Steve knows that locking the place up won’t fend off a Demogorgan - that thing came right out of the Byers’ wall, no door necessary - but it makes him feel the tiniest bit better, more secure. 

He makes his way upstairs and stumbles through getting ready for bed - as if he’ll be getting any sleep tonight. 

He knows, okay? He knows that these probably aren’t his feelings and that there’s no need to be this revved up, but he can feel it. His heart is pounding and he knows deep in his bones that he isn’t safe. 

It’s not until he lies in bed that an immense sense of grief and guilt flows over him. Steve curls up, pulling his knees to his chest, and tries not to cry.

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.

AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3

“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”

Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”

You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”

You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.

“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”

He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.

So fucking beautiful.

“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”

Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"

It's all I want. You think.

"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.

You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."

That's all I want. He thinks.

Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"

He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.

and it'll crush him.

The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."

"So?" He asks.

"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."

It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’

The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.

So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.

Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.

"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.

Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.

You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."

“Stop that.” He seethed.

It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.

Never with you.

Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.

"What--"

He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”

“Eddie…”

“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”

You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.

It’s overwhelming.

You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?

His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.

Fuck it.

“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.

You exhale his name, “Eddie,”

“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?

Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”

He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”

Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.

“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”

With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.

“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”

Warm warm warm.

It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.

Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.

There’s no one but you.

You’re everything.

I love you, please, let me love you.

Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.

“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.

Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”

“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”

He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”

Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"

He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.

"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."

You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.

"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.

Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"

A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.

You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."

You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"

You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."

Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."

"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."

He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.

"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."

"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.

You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.

"God, yes."

He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.

"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."

Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"

He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.

Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.

"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”

The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.

“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.

He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”

You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”

Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.

“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.

“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.

The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.

Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.

Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”

You’re both breathing heavy.

Now it’s his turn.

Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.

When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.

God damn...he's fucking huge.

"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"

Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.

"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."

"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.

You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.

"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.

His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"

You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.

"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.

Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.

Such a good girl.

Taking me so well.

My pretty girl.

Mine.

Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.

"Eddie, fuck, I--"

"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."

His words are like a spell.

You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.

"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"

You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."

"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.

He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.

"Hi." He says quietly.

You giggle softly, "Hi."

"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."

You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"

"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.

Nothing.

You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."

Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"

You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."

He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.

Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."

Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."

[steddielations]

Eddie’s queer awakening Part 2 | Part 1

Steve doesn’t know what else to do to make Eddie realize he likes him. Never in his life has he had to work this hard at winning someone over. Never.

Even with Nancy in high school, there was always a hint that she wanted him to chase her, which made it worthwhile. Sometimes, Eddie will do something that makes Steve sure he feels the same, flirting back. Then Eddie will do something that makes Steve not so sure, laughing it off.

Steve doesn’t like resorting to bullshit queer stereotypes because he doesn’t exactly fit them either, but Eddie looks like those rugged guys on his posters and album covers. Sometimes it feels like a masculinity performance worthy of King Steve, but sometimes it feels genuine.

Eddie’s not dressing like Bowie, but he prances around on cafeteria tables yelling about sodomy and he’s never had a girlfriend that Steve knows of. He could like both, same as Steve, of course. Or it could be nothing, of course. Steve’s just putting all these moves on a straight boy, about to get his heart broken again.

Robin’s given him countless pep talks, assuring him that he’s right about Eddie when he starts to doubt it. “You sniffed Vickie out just from her VHS returns. If anyone has a functional queer detector here, it’s you. Trust it.”

“What if I ask him out and he rejects me?” Steve fully understands Robin’s worries now, it’s not the same as getting shot down by a girl. “I’ve got enough rumors about me already.” They all wanted to say it in high school, calling Steve a pretty boy in tight pants that spent too much time in the mirror.

Tommy used to shoot them all down. Now he’s not by Steve’s side, snarling at anyone who suggests it. Which was mostly just Tommy trying to convince himself that everything they did under the covers at sleepovers was “just guy stuff”, and he convinced Steve too. To the point where Steve hadn’t even considered any different until a few months ago when he told Robin and— yeah, that was an eventful conversation. The first time he stumbled across the word bisexual— from a Bowie interview in one of Robin’s magazines— it felt like something clicked into place.

“I don’t think Eddie’s the type to out anyone, either way.” Robin’s right. She’s not always right, everything would be easier if she was, but she’s right about that.

“I keep having to pretend to like his shitty weed to get him to come over. Not even the yawn and stretch move worked on him. Y’know, this,” Steve demonstrates, stretching an arm above his head and then draping it over Robin’s shoulder. She shrugs him off with a fake gag. “I kept looking at his lips and I thought we were gonna kiss, but he laughed and poked me in the ribs and called me dude.”

Robin listens to all his boy troubles and then they come up with a plan. Steve decides he’s going to come out to Eddie, just put it out there that he likes guys. In a totally platonic way and hopefully that gets the ball rolling the other way, where he tells Eddie he likes one guy in particular and hopes all his Romeo efforts don’t blow up in his face.

So he goes for it. Eddie strolls into Family Video and picks out a movie that Steve’s actually heard of for once. It’s easy for Steve to throw him a smile and invite himself over. “You know this is the closest thing to a romance movie you’ve picked? No way I’m letting you watch this alone, somebody’s gotta hold your hand through the sad ending, looks like it’s gonna be me.”

Several emotions fly across Eddie’s face, landing on overwhelmed disbelief. “I don’t get it, man. How do you not have a girlfriend? You’d be so easy to fall in love with. Hell, I feel like you've made me fall halfway in love with you already. If I was a girl, I’d date the shit out of you.”

It looks like Eddie wants to clap a hand over his mouth as soon as the words leave it.

Steve watches him carefully, trying to think clearly over his heart pounding in his chest because Eddie just said he loves him, kind of. This is it. “Would you still date me as a guy?”

Eddie’s nervous hands jingle with chain bracelets as they tug his hair and hide his face. “You mean, objectively? As a guy would I date another guy? I mean, could I want that? I hadn’t really considered that option until now. Uh. Shit. Wow, this is-”

“Because I would, you know,” Steve jumps to say, as earnestly as he can, needing Eddie to finally know. How could he not know? This is it. Steve didn’t come all this way just to tap out at the finish line. He goes for it. “I’d date you as a guy, Eddie. I’d date the shit out of you, too, just like you are.”

Eddie’s face is flushed now, his eyes wide and swimming with both questions and realizations. Steve snaps out of it for a second, looking around to see the store is thankfully empty, Robin’s still on her break, but this isn’t the place for this conversation.

“Wanna talk about it over the movie tonight?” He offers.

It moors Eddie, he relaxes more and Steve hopes he’s not imagining the faint hint of a smile. “Yeah, that’s— yeah, talk. I can do that.”

“Okay, it’s a date. See you then.” Steve hands over the tape, their fingers brushing and making warmth flutter all through him. He watches Eddie halfway trip out the door, running into it once and pulling on it three times before pushing it open.

Steve can’t stop grinning, thinking about later, determined to tell Eddie he’s already in love with him too.

[sodapopboy]

i forget which one of you said that ponyboy was a premature baby but hear me out.

darry being a stone faced kid, literally never crying as a baby even IF he was hungry, and fooling the curtis parents into thinking parenting was gonna be really easy until they had soda, who was a screecher and squealer and the world’s most reactive baby (but that’s besides the point)

when ponyboy wasnt born yet, darry was one of those kids to place his head onto their mom’s baby bump and talk to their sibling. soda did it as well don’t get me wrong, but would probably get distracted when steve comes over and starts hollering over toy cars and one he took apart out on the front porch (darry shushes them both, using the excuse that he was ‘trying to hear the baby’)

soda definitely was the cause of the name “ponyboy” due to his love for ponies (that and he genuinely thought his newest sibling would just be an actual pony), but i feel like darry was the one to (unknowingly) pick ponyboy’s middle name. he kept bugging his parents to name ponyboy ‘michael’ and they gave in, just not in the way he expected

ANYWAY.. when ponyboy comes a little earlier than expected and they all clammer into the curtis family’s beat down truck, darry hasn’t ever seen his father so stressed in his life as he bounds down the streets.

and, as they sit in the hospital lobby and darry overhears some of the risks the doctors list to mr. curtis, who tries to get them away from the conversation— he cries. for the first time in his life, he actually starts bawling. it’s not like darry was forced to bottle up his emotions or anything, he just never felt a reason to actually cry— unlike soda, who cried over every small inconvenience at the time (which darry doesn’t dislike, he just doesn’t relate to it)

so when he hears that his mom, arguably his most favorite person in the world— is in critical condition alongside his new brother, who was definitely going to be one of his favorite people… he literally can’t stop crying about it. soda has to comfort him this time and just hugs him.

tl;dr darry curtis loves ponyboy and sodapop but they’ve been scaring him to death even before they were born