#marmalade fanfic

[wroteclassicaly]

Winter is the bane of your existence, your fingertips prickling with that icy electric as they struggle to lock your door with trembling hands. You’d lost your mismatched gloves in the laundry pile you’ve yet to do, and with your dad coming for supper this weekend, you realized you had to venture out into the arctic rain to get a few things at the store. It’s only a block from your trailer, but the moment you leave the confines of a tin roof that shields you beneath safety on your porch — you wish you would have managed your finances better, to save back some cash to order a pizza instead. Holding onto the railing, your legs tighten to hold you steady, deep black sludge darkening the wood of your steps, covering your half-shoveled walkway. You clutch your Goodwill thrifted handbag, digging out your list and balancing your ink pen between your teeth.

This, of course, has you not looking as you approach your mailbox to start your journey, failing to hear snow pack itself down beneath bike tires. His big feet hit the pedals for all they’re worth, and he lets them slam into the ground to slide, cold instantly soaking through his boots, past his socks, and landing across his toes. He prevents a total collision, but his torso catches you by the shoulder and his arms release his mailbag, crashing into the ground along with your tangled limbs. Your purse goes flying across the road, list destroyed, ink pen a casualty. It takes you a few moments to realize that you’re laying back against his chest, legs wound together, his bike several feet beyond, both of you soaked in muddy rain water and discolored snow, that you pray to god Old lady Tilly’s Pomeranian didn’t piss or shit in.

Everything aches, near that numbing, throbbing process from temperatures. Baron is groaning behind you, fingerless gloves swiping his chocolate tresses from his face. Looks like he forgot his hat today, you note, drinking in his disheveled appearance beneath his patchwork coat (you’re pretty sure he got that thing from a time capsule planted in the 70’s). His green cargo pants are sopping wet, having taken the brunt of the mud, his cheeks are dusted pink, along with his damp mouth and red nose. He’s an absolute treasure, shining everytime you see him, blinding your vision and common sense.

You look down as your skin warms from your realized predicament, almost forgetting about the snow and slush soaking through your pants, and now your panties.

“You okay, doodlebug?” His accented voice is winded, his hands reaching out gently to grasp his own ankle and lift it off of yours. Once your legs are free, he pulls you up with him and that hidden strength he possesses, his coat crunching under rustling fabric.

Your snow boots smack into the watery muck below, one hand held in his massive, gloved palm, the other planting itself on his jacket clad chest. You’re nodding, lifting your chin to face him. “I’m so sorry, Baron. M’ good, I just wasn’t paying attention —“

“You know how many times I’ve done that? Knocked into your mailbox a time or two.” He reaches down beside you to knock his knuckles across several indents in your box’s post. It makes you shiver, cars driving across snowy roads in the distance, a simple backtrack to you both.

Baron clears his deep, wind—coated throat, sniffling softly, taking a few steps behind him to grab up your purse. He brings it to you with an offered hand, starting to protest as you bend to retrieve his overflowing bag. Nothing is ruined, thankfully, and you make a quick exchange, fingers lingering, grazing.

“You’re cold, sweetheart. Should be wearing somethin’ on your hands. Momma used to tell me how fast the weather works against us.”

At the mention of his mother, you note his jostled deflation. You try to lighten his spirits, thanking him for breaking your short fall. “Just grateful we didn’t seem to land on anything special. Like a clockwork present from Mrs. Tilly’s dog.”

It’s comical how his moss-shrouded eyes, kissed beneath luscious lashes — widen in fear. He whispers, just to you, with tendrils of his hair blowing over your nose, tickling, caressing, drifting from your cheekbone, and even nicking your forehead. “Did it, ya know… do its business in there, you think?”

“I considered it within the first seconds, but I think we’re safe.” You’re chuckling, and the next sentence is leaving your mouth before you can stop it. “I think your ass got the brunt of the damage, if we’re being honest.”

He marvels at your language, lips pursing and then they pop, tongue clicking at the roof of his mouth. You start to wonder if you’ve overstepped, but he smirks, the corner of his mouth, tugging in a way that makes you want to kiss him breathless, not missing a beat. “You wanna check it out for me?”

Your brows raise higher on your frozen forehead, and he’s immediately apologetic, manners kicking into overdrive. “No, oh my goodness. Doodlebug, that wasn’t very proper of me when you were just—a—kiddin’ and all.”

His flustered state gives you confidence. “Maybe if you spin real slow. As for checking it out, I’d love to, if I didn’t have to make the store before closing.” You sigh when reality pushes its way in. Here in this park it’s usually Baron that jumpstarts those reserved butterflies, giving you something to always look forward to.

“What are you needin’? I might have it at home.”

“Baron, I don’t want to take anything from you —“

“It’s not takin’ if I offered, now is it?”

He’s slipping his bag over his shoulder and yanking bike by the handlebar off the ground, one hand on his trim waistline.

“Some stuff for supper. Dad is comin’ in this weekend.” Baron’s smile melts you entirely, your energies on high alert. He knows how your lack of relationship with your father affects you. He feels a possessive need to protect. Besides, your pop doesn’t deserve you working yourself into a frenzy over a home cooked meal.

“I got a frozen pizza. I think that’ll do just fine for him.”

He raises a hand off his bike to push his hair back, and then scrambles to replace it, the heavy object almost clattering onto the ground once more.

By god, he’s too cute for his own good.

“Okay.” It’s not one word, but it’s how you say it. Pliant and secure, satiated.

“Okay.” He replies, bashful, toeing his work boot into the ground and swirling it around the slush. “You go on back in and I’ll bring it to ya after my route?”

Your response shocks his flickering gaze into finding you. “Can I walk with you, Bar?”

Because yeah, you sure can…

// Eat me paragraph //

#kristenwrites #my work #my writing #baron #baron fic #baron fanfic #baron fanfiction #baron blurb #baron drabble #baron x female reader #baron x reader #baron x you #baron x y/n #baron x fem!reader #marmalade #marmalade fic #marmalade fanfic #marmalade fanfiction

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve... | PART VII

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER VII WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - strong language, ruthless banter, mentions of death, injuries, end-of-the-world terror talk, newfound shared codependency (but like it's healthy imo also it's valid lmao) jealousy. 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this chapter is honestly a gahdamn MF feast. a favorite of mine NGL, for a multitude of reasons. Murray high key pops the fuck off like the boss bitch he is and takes us on a long lecture of a journey to visit the lordt of truth bombs. Eddie has zero chill. Robin is the bestest-best-fwend and platonic-with-a-capital-p soulmate to our boy. Dustin is a dingus. LUCAS BE SEEIN' THINGS. Hopper is Joppering. Nancy and Jonathan get a clue. Mama Steve and the kids are in full swing. We get a cutie cameo from Harrington's signature yellow sweater.

And our lovebirds finallyyyy......well.....say the magic word that they're feeling hehehe:)

ISSA LONG ONE. PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve knew he would have to face downstairs again at some point before the morning.  Definitely before everyone else went to bed.  But he couldn’t bring himself to.  Not yet.

Because right now, you were fast asleep in his arms.  Laid carefully on your back for the sake of your bad shoulder, with your head turned into his chest.  Steve was propped up on an elbow, facing you with his other hand gliding his fingertips to trace your arm draped across your chest.  He drew shapes up your arm, now adorned with his yellow crewneck, up to your jawline so that he could tuck your hair behind your ear. 

And all the while, he just stared at your chest – comforted by the steady rise and fall.  It kept him sane.  It kept his eyes open.  It kept him from letting the nightmare return.  You slept so peacefully, he might never have known you’d been dead in his arms earlier that day.

“You are beautiful, Steve Harrington.”

Your words from last night ran through his mind on a loop, like a VHS tape on replay.

“I can’t stand you.”

You’d said it in the warmest voice Steve had ever heard in his life.  Somehow, those words meant more to him than I love you.  Because when he said it back, he realized it meant the same thing. 

“I can’t stand you either.” 

I love you too.

Steve carefully placed his forehead against your temple, eyes fluttering shut and breathing you in.  Something danced inside of his stomach.  It ached, it burned and it warned him of all the things he feared feeling the most for anyone except the girl downstairs who had made love seem lost.  He never wanted those feelings to return again for anyone else but her – Nancy.  And yet here he was: every one of those feelings rushed back tenfold, for the girl upstairs in his guest bedroom lying beside him.  The girl who had ruined the chance at a life for him with Nancy Wheeler.  The girl he swore was the reason he was robbed of all things good.  Robbed of love.  True love.

But he no longer loved Nancy Wheeler. 

Steve Harrington loved you.

Downstairs, everyone is quiet but productive. 

Joyce is organizing the last of the stashed supplies.  The kids are eating some bowls of hot soup, served up by Murray.  He had to stay busy and shake off the frayed nerves.   Otherwise, he’d go berserk.  Completely berserk.  Joyce gently helped him but knew better than to baby him.  She was surprised to find Erica walking over, offering to help serve up some glasses of water or sodas for everyone.  To everyone’s surprise, they operated well.  Like chef and sous-chef.  What an unlikely duo.

Hopper and El were talking in the living room about the potential new plan, and Mike moved from the table where he sat with the kids and teens to join them.

Steve could hear them all down there, the ambience muffled on the other side of the closed door separating you both from the rest of the world outside of each other's arms.  He could have fallen asleep right there with you if he let himself.

But a soft knock on the door made him crane his head to look towards the source of the noise.  With one last look at you, he carefully slipped his arm out from underneath you.  You never stirred, the rhythm of your breathing still intact and your mind lost in sleep.

Steve wasn’t sure who to expect on the other side of the door.  But as he ran a hand through his hair, he found himself not caring. 

Turns out, it was Murray.  He stood with two bowls of hot soup, now staring into the eyes of Steve Harrington — who he begrudgingly noted still looked dashing, despite his towel-dried bedhead and tired eyes.

Seriously, no one should make a t-shirt and sweatpants look that good. 

Your uncle cleared his throat.  “Uhh, I made some soup.”

Steve gave him a timid but grateful nod, taking one of the bowls.  Glancing back over his shoulder, Murray followed Harrington’s gaze — back at you, sleeping in bed. 

“She’s still out,” Steve told him. 

Murray nodded.  “I’ll keep hers warm downstairs.”  An awkward silence fell over Murray and Steve, but finally your uncle continued.  “Listen, why not come down?  Let her rest, get yourself some water or — a sandwich maybe, to go with the soup.  Erica says she’ll make them but I'm reallllly not feeling confident about that.”

Steve allowed himself a soft chuckle at that, biting his lip and glancing back at you. 

“She’s alright,” your uncle assured Steve.  “Trust me.  I keep having to remind myself that, too.”

Steve was glad that the two of them could relate on that — endlessly worrying about you.  He was also glad that your uncle wasn’t giving him shit for it, and honestly Murray was extremely pleasant when he wasn’t being an ass.  It took Steve by surprise.  No wonder you two were related.  With a reluctant sigh, Steve agreed to follow Murray downstairs for some more grub.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Steve’s eyes first landed on Nancy sitting with Robin and Joyce.  She looked over at Steve with her big blue eyes, which danced with longing.  Steve’s doe brown eyes didn’t return it, but he lightly smiled in her direction anyway.  Robin immediately perked up, jogging over to Steve from her seated position on the floor.  She grabbed him for a tight hug, and he made sure not to spill his bowl of soup.

“Sorry sorry, I’ve just — been worried sick.”

“S’okay, Robs,” Steve murmured, appreciating the comfort.  She pulled back to look at him, giving him a sad smile.  She wanted to ask him a million questions, but knew it best to save it for later.

“C’mon,” Robin told him, tilting her head towards the kitchen.  “Let’s go grab some crackers or something to go with that soup, which you need to eat.  Don’t even think about not eating, Steve.  I’m serious, okay?”

Steve listened to her keep rambling on as they walked into the kitchen, where Erica and Lucas were bickering about PB&J’s, and Murray stepped in to take back his title as head chef.  Eddie and Jonathan were sitting at the dining table, clearly in deep conversation but ceasing once they noticed them walking in.  Jonathan gave him a pitying look, while Eddie flashed a dopey grin to try and hide whatever serious talk was just going down.

Dustin, Mike and Will all rounded the corner as Steve moved to sit at the bar.  They all sat next to him happily.  YAY, MOM’S HOME.

Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair absentmindedly as he sipped on his soup and stared down at his spoon.  Erica was shoving a very haphazard looking sandwich in front of him while Lucas told him he’d spit it out after the first bite, which sent all the kids into a frenzy of bickering, lighthearted insults and witty comebacks.  Steve sighed, content as he ate several mouthfuls of the sandwich while listening to his kids squabble.

Jonathan was shaking his head over in the corner, observing this.  “Guy’s a hero to those kids,” he murmured, only loud enough for Eddie to hear. 

“Babysitter turned full-time mom turned hero,” Eddie smirks, amused.  “Dude’s a legend.”

Jonathan scoffs, amused but also not.  “Wasn’t always...”

Eddie clocks what he means by that.  He knew King Steve, too.  But Eddie can see a twinge of something else in Joanthan’s eyes, surprised to see it.  Jealousy.  It’s subtle.  Not toxic, or even remotely a threat. 

That is, until Jonathan sees Nancy moving to take a sandwich from Erica — her eyes wandering over to Steve and the kids.  She looks enchanted, melancholy.  Is she sad?  Why is she sad?

…why is she sad looking at Steve?

Jonathan’s brow furrows.  Eddie decides he better speak up and interrupt whatever he’s thinking.  Because he sees it too.  Uh oh.

“Trust me, he was a dick.  I know.  Told him so myself.”  Eddie tries to make light of it, grinning.  “But I think sometimes…some folks just need a big thump on the head.  Shit, I did.  I used to run away from alllllll my problems.  Hell, I…I’ve even had my share of making others feel small, just so I can feel big.  Not in a bad way, though.  Never mean.  Just…immature.  Y’know?  Point is, I’ve been there too.  Maybe not as big a dick as Harrington…”  He snorted.  “No pun intended.”

Jonathan whipped his head in Eddie’s direction.  What did that mean?

Eddie quickly tried to cover up his reference to the Hawkins High heartthrob’s manhood.  “I just mean, I just mean — like — we’ve all been dicks.  You know?  Big ones.  Small ones.  Medium…sized…ones.”

He counted at least 5 perplexed blinks from Jonathan.  Eddie sighed, exasperated with himself.  “The point, the point.  We uhh…we live and we learn.  Right?”

Jonathan finally let his tense shoulders loosen up at that, but he glanced back at Nancy – who was still watching Steve as she got herself a glass of water and letting Robin ramble to her.  And Jonathan also watched Steve, who was now telling Dustin to share the box of crackers with everyone and not hog them from everybody. 

It began to click for Jonathan.  The longing stares.  The unusually strained affection between him and Nancy, ever since he got back.  He knew that was partially his fault, if not entirely his fault, given him pulling away from her after moving to California.  But then he got back to Hawkins, and realized the second he saw her that he’d been a fool to think he would ever be better off without her, or convince himself that she could be better off without him.  One look at her made it all go away.  They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and Jonathan was definitely aware of that now.

But had it made Nancy’s heart grow fonder, too?  For Jonathan?

…or had distance made her heart grow fonder for someone else…

Someone else who she had distanced herself from once before, when she found love and comfort in Jonathan Byers’ arms.  Harrington had been away from Nancy when she was around Byers, and then Byers was away from Nancy when the world went to shit again, putting her back around Harrington again.  No Byers in sight.

…was this karma?  Jonathan Byers was beginning to wonder that.  Was this what he got for so confidently whisking Wheeler away from Steve back in high school?  Is this what he got for thinking he was safe?

…maybe that is what Steve meant when screaming at him earlier, as they tried to pump you back to life.

“DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING STOP.”  Jonathan would never forget the way that Steve’s sounded as he spewed at him.  Broken, anguished and betrayed.

“IT’S NOT WORKING,” Jonathan had wept bitterly.  “IT’S TOO LATE.”

When Nancy had chosen Jonathan, Steve never got mad.  He never got mad at either of them.  He told Nancy he got it; that it was okay.  And he never said anything to Byers about it.  Next time they ran into each other, it was just tense silence.  Steve might have picked a fight with Jonathan once before, that damn morning in the alleyway when Will was still missing.  But that was 2 years ago now, and it felt childish compared to everything that had happened since then.  Steve’s anger then was so subdued to what it could have been, and he never explored anger towards Jonathan once he had successfully managed to take his girl.

But the way that Steve Harrington looked at Jonathan now, while you were dead beneath their hands, was fueled by anger.  Red hot and flaming.  He looked ready to finally unleash on Jonathan, ready to blame him for his existence and how it only brought Steve grief.  For once, Steve Harrington looked rightfully angry with Jonathan Byers for being the source of his pain.  Steve looked ready to punch him square in the jaw and beat him up the way he’d had his own face beat up by not just Byers, but also Billy Hargrove and the Russians.

“DON’T SAY THAT.  NO ONE GAVE UP ON YOUR BROTHER, YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST GIVE UP ON US NOW?  THINK ANY OF US WANTED TO STOP WHEN WE THOUGHT IT WAS TOO LATE?  FUCK YOU, BYERS.  FUCK YOU.”

Jonathan deserved it.  He completely deserved it.  All of it.  It had been a long time coming, and while it was over 2 years past due…he took it.  All of it.  Even what was still left unsaid.  Jonathan let Steve verbally rip him to shreds before Eddie took over and brought you back to life with Steve instead of him.

And that’s why now, as Jonathan watched Nancy catch him staring at her — looking caught as she tried to give him a smile — he let it happen.  He just gave her a reluctant smile back, accepting his fate.  Because now, after what he had seen today, he realized that Steve wasn’t even a threat.  Maybe a month or so ago, he would have been.  But that wasn’t the case now, which he only knew after seeing the way that Steve clung to you and sobbed uncontrollably over your lifeless body – then afterwards, when you were alive again. 

Steve no longer pined for Nancy Wheeler.  He pined for you. 

Not for long, though.  Honestly, it was as clear as day that whatever was going on between the two of you was mutual.  The way you held Steve earlier, comforted him — assuring him that it was alright, you were alright — and how you stroked his leg in the living room before he helped you upstairs and disappeared for a couple of hours into your assigned guest room… Jonathan knew, along with Eddie, that Steve Harrington’s heart was in your hands, and yours was his. 

It’s what Jonathan and Eddie had brought up at the table.  Not the whole “why hasn’t Steve unleashed his anger on me until today” aspect of things.  But the fact that you and Steve, who seemingly could not stand each other, now seemed like a pair.  

Nancy moved to sit next to Jonathan, who awkwardly poked at his soup bowl and did his best to fake a smile.  Eddie watched them, knowing.  Man, he could really use one of his guitars right now to pluck out the tension…

Lucas was saying something about Max needing to be checked on upstairs, which made Steve quickly shove the last of his sandwich into his mouth so that he could come help him and Erica along with Will, El and Mike.  They all made their way up, and Dustin stayed behind.  He moved over to the big kids table, bringing the box of crackers over with him.  He plopped down next to Eddie, who was grateful for the comic relief after the tense talk at the table.  Robin moved to bring over fresh cups of coffee, sitting between everyone.

“So uhhh, we gonna talk about it?”

Dustin’s question made everyone freeze. 

Robin cocked an eyebrow, leaning onto her elbows to sip her coffee.  “About what…?”

“About Bauman and Steve, and how we all clearly did not see it coming.”

Robin choked on her coffee.  Nancy stiffened next to Jonathan, which he didn’t miss — considering her hand was resting on his forearm.  Eddie drummed the table awkwardly while nodding and staring straight ahead at absolutely nothing. 

“Yeeeeeee-up, caught me off guard,” Eddie said.  “I’m normally good at picking up on that shit.”

Robin was still working on clearing her throat.  “Look, we don’t know anything yet —”

“He’s literally your best friend, Robin,” Dustin accused with an eye roll.  “If any of us know, you do.”

“Well my strange, tiny friend,” Robin quipped wryly, “I’m afraid I’m just as in the dark on this as you are.”  She sighed, leaning back in her seat with a flash of concern in her eyes.  “I really should have seen it coming, though.  I was so sure he was just gonna keep on hating her guts.”

“I still don’t understand why he hated her at all,” Dustin said, adorably naive. 

Eddie smirked, uneasy.  “Meh, not important.”

“Seriously, they got along just fine whenever we fought the demodogs,” Dustin continued, oblivious.  “And at the snowball, but then after that he just – went at it with her all the time, even though they would both still hang out with us.  Like an old married couple.”

Nancy listened intently, trying to keep up and put the pieces together.  Because truly, she herself had been wondering what changed.  But she had been so focused on her life, in her own world with Jonathan and their jobs, she really hadn’t paid much attention to the fact that you and Steve had gotten along at the start, then not at all, and now…well…

Robin puffed out a breath of air.  “Maybe they’ve just…gotten closer.  You know, found a way to get along.  Murray’s an ass, and even though she’s not and I love her, Steve’s not exactly the easiest to get along with even though I love him —”

Dustin scoffed.  “Robin.  He kissed her.”

Eddie clicked his tongue, trying to think of Metallica lyrics and avoid looking in Nancy or Jonathan’s direction.

Robin stared.  “What?”

“When?”  Nancy’s voice startled the room, and Jonathan seemed to cringe at it.

“Dustin,” Jonathan sighed.

“Today,” Dustin kept talking.  “Whenever we…brought her back.  He — he kissed her.  He literally bawled on top of her and wouldn’t let her go.” 

Dustin’s eyes lost all of the annoyance, now looking sad as he thought back on it all.  Robin stared at him along with Nancy, barely breathing.  Even Eddie looked over at him. 

“I’ve never…I’ve never seen him that upset,” Dustin murmured.  “Steve’s never sad.  Not like that.  I’ve never even seen him cry.  Not once.  Robin, did he ever cry while you both got tortured in the Russian chambers?”

Robin thinks back on that, gnawing at her lip, deep in thought.  She shook her head, realizing… “No.  No, he didn’t.  Just – panicked, but not…he didn’t cry.”

“Exactly,” Dustin says.  “Because he’s awesome.  He’s brave, and cool, and awesome.  Steve doesn’t cry.  Today?  He bawled.”

“Seeing someone die in front of you does that, man,” Eddie pointed out, melancholy.  “I know I did whenever Chrissy died… You cried today.  I did.  Byers did.”

“Not like that,” Dustin insisted, voice firm.  It made everyone go quiet again.  “Not like that,” he repeated.  “That’s how I would have cried if…like, if Suzy died.  Or how Lucas did when Max died before we got her back.  How Hopper and Joyce would.  How Jonathan and Nancy would.”

That made the present couple go stiff.  But Jonathan nodded, eyes boring a hole into his coffee mug.  “S’true,” he mumbled.  “If that were you, I would.”

Nancy looked at him, eyes guilty.  Of course, it was the same for her.  But she couldn’t focus on that right now.  Not now that her collective thoughts and observations were confirmed.  Now that she knew for sure…

“It’s not a matter of if they’re into each other,” Dustin kept going, certain.  “It’s a matter of when.  When did it start and how were we blind?”

But no one could answer that.  Robin couldn’t, and she was shocked that she couldn’t.  She knew her best friend all too well.  How had she not seen this coming?  How could she not have sensed that his never ending hatred towards you was slowly developing into liking you?  Maybe even loving you…?

Eddie had only started sensing it that day.  Until then, he had been the one to encourage Steve to go after Nancy.  To get her back, win her over.  But that stopped whenever Jonathan came back into the picture, of course.  He knew better than to cross that line.  Still, he knew that Harrington loved her and pined for her.  He also knew why Harrington couldn’t stand you, along with Robin.  They adored you, hoping at some point that you both could just become friends who tolerated each other.  Eddie never thought it would become more than that: a civilized friendship.

And Nancy felt something heavy sit on top of her chest that she really could not seem to accept yet: the truth.  She lost Steve.

“Alright, guessing game is over.” 

Murray’s voice rounding the corner made everyone jump, and he eyed down everyone at the table as he walked in with his empty soup bowl.  He made for the sink, turning on the faucet with his eyes still glued to the five people seated at the dining table, who stared back awkwardly.  Finally, he looked down as he washed his dish.

“Take it from the witchdoctor of love: those two had it coming.”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow, completely amused. 

Jonathan, however, was not.  This was so karma.

“...had what coming?” Dustin asked. 

Robin shot him a look — bless his little naive heart.

“Psh, c’monnnn,” Murray said, rinsing the bowl.   “The sexual tension.  The incessant arguing.  Harrington’s personal utmost disdain towards her.”

Nancy spoke up, unable to help herself.  “But…why though?  She didn’t do anything wrong.  Why would he have disdain towards her…?”

Jonathan hated how irritated Nancy’s question made him feel towards her.  It irked him deeply, but he just let it fester quietly as he sat there staring down at his cup of black coffee and having no choice but to listen.

Murray looked at Nancy with the most condescending expression, uncensored as fuck.  “Honey…really?” 

Off Nancy’s clueless expression, Murray rolled his eyes in the back of his skull as he slapped the faucet off before whirling to face them.

“Once upon a time, two years ago: you and Jonathan came over to my bunker — uninvited — waltzing your way into my business, along with my niece’s.  Thankfully, to our benefit, you helped us crack the case and — not so much to our benefit — onboarded us into your mess.  But rewinding back a few slides, you two stayed over because of the vodka coursing through all of our veins and tried to convince the two of us — AKA yourselves — that you two were just friends.  Which was the biggest load of unbelievable bullshit you both could have told me, and that’s after you told me everything pertaining to the absurdity and pure insanity regarding the upside down.  But really, it was a great belly laugh for me and my niece, so thank you.  Thennnn, my niece offered to let you both take her bed — not buying a lick of it, and suggesting you both stop being in denial.  On top of that, as a former student at Hawkins High, she knew King Steve very well.  She knew how Wheeler and Harrington both started dating, and how much closer the two of you —”  (he gestured between Jonathan and Nancy) “— had gotten since Will Byers went missing then got rescued.  Because my niece isn’t stupid.  She could’ve been class valedictorian if she’d wanted to, but — being like her cynical uncle — she didn’t wanna.  She’s a street-smart annnnnd booksmart cookie.  She knew you both were bound to let the trauma bond get you both together, and that genuine love had formed between the two of you way more than it had between her and Steve.  So she called it out, after being fed a bunch of coo-coo-bananas nonsense from you guys in my casa about being 'platonic.' " 

Eddie's jaw was practically touching the table. This was literally the best story he's ever heard, and it had just freaking started.

Robin felt like she was watching a movie in her mind, one in which her best friend was the main character and she was rooting for him like life depended on it.

"Fast forward to the lab, El’s grand return, Will’s exorcism, the demodogs, the Snowball, and our little house party that followed —” (he pointed at Dustin) “— you forgot that part — turns out, Jonathan Byers can’t take his liquor, so what does he do?  He goes over to my niece, who’s standing in the kitchen — like so,” (he gestured to himself) “ — and starts profusely thanking her in a string of loud, slurred, drunken words, about how he was chosen one, and how he got the girl, alllllll thaaaaannnksss toooo myyyyyy niiiieeeeeccccce."

Nancy's blood ran cold. What? 

"And because it was such a small house, no offense Henderson, unlike Casa Harrington — the king himself heard it all.  Every lick of it.  So of course, who’s he gonna hate with a fiery burning passion more than he ever could hate Jonathan Byers for stealing his girl?  The person who told him to do it.  Myyyyyy niece.  Because he can’t hate Nancy Wheeler, never-ever-ever could he hate the girl he swore was the love of his life.  And he couldn’t even hate Jonathan, because what had he done except be the victim of King Steve’s incessant bullying and his horrible posse of friends in high school while his brother was missing in another dimension?  But Steve had to hate someone.  To loathe someone, blame someone, more than himself.  So he chose her.  He chose my niece — and by extension me, but mainly her.  Because she was a part of the gang now, and around way more than I ever have been around you kids.  Which is to be expected.  So blah-blah-blah, hate-hate-hate, fight-fight-fight — soooo muchhhh traaaauma.” 

Murray paused for dramatic effect, soaking in everybody's faces, then continued. 

“...and what happens when there is trauma?... bonding.  Trauma bonding.  Forced alliance.  The need to put aside your differences, so that you all can just get along and survive.  And that leads to talking…which leads to more fighting…eventually, tears.  Lots of ugly words that can’t be taken back.  And then…suddenly…”  Murray snaps his fingers.  “Common ground.”

No one has made a sound, hanging onto Murray’s every word.

“Vecna ends the world.  At least, Hawkins.  We all somehow manage to survive it.  We all need somewhere to goooo…and we wind up here.  In a house, all underneath the same roof.  Forced to coexist.  Therefore, newfound respect and understanding is acquired when in close quarters.  Just as the two of you, Ms. Wheeler and Mr. Byers, found in my bunker.  Steve and my niece found themselves forced to live with one another, the space between them closing in.  Gap by gap, inch by inch…until…”

Murray made a gesture that looked like that of a magician, everyone’s eyes following.  “Magic.”  He walks closer, slowly.  “Some small talk becomes bigger talk.  Some childhood trauma that decorates the walls of Harrington’s house becomes the topic of conversation.  My niece just so happens to be a really good listener, and Steve happens to be in need of one.  They both discover they’re the only child in both their families.  His parents are absent.  Hers were barely ever present, before surrendering her to both mine and my mother’s care.  But she doesn’t mention that yet, no — why?  Because she’s listening.  Relating.  Understanding.  Meanwhile, Steve feels heard.  Seen.  Relevant.  Important.  Like maybe whatever he has to say matters.  Fast forward some more, blah-blah-blah…some more co-parenting later…which honestly, is the only reason those two maintained some sort of peace in the first place — aside from the inevitable perils that we all have had to face and be paid to keep our mouths shut about…”

Murray points to Dustin, who stares at him — agape. 

“You kids are the damn glue holding those two doomed enemies-soon-to-be-lovers together.  Not that you knew that.  You’re kids, and you don’t know that shit yet.  Which is good.  And they love that.  Steve might hate her, but he’s not gonna make you kids hate her.  And she finds him infuriating, but she isn’t gonna let you all know that by persuading you to feel the same.  Because he loves you rugrats, and you all love him…and you rugrats love her, as she loves you.  Fast forward to a night when all the kiddos are fast asleep, and the adults get a night to themselves with some cups of chilled vodka that fuels everyone’s laughter and newfound liquid courage — but just enough to give a light buzz, rather than sloshed drunkenness — the enemies, who’ve now become somewhat of friends…realize that they feel more.  Or at least, that’s what I observed.  Grilled my niece about it, that night before bed — and next thing you know — she is the victim of Uncle Murray’s love-talk lectures.  Just like you two were.  She’s swearing up and down that she cannot stand Steve, and that he cannot stand her.  She insists they are mortal enemies.  That he hates her.  Will forever hate her.  And then…that rambling turns into truth.  Admittance.  Denial, still.  But it’s enough to go off, allowing me to paint the picture and speak the truth into the world out loud: WE DO LOVE STEVE.”

Nancy freezes at that, eyes wide and heart blue.  She swallows thickly, and Jonathan feels sick.

Murray's conductor waving hands settled down, ready for the grand finish.

“...someone had to love Steve.  But it wasn’t you, Ms. Nancy Wheeler.  Not forever, anyway.  Not in the desperate, novel-esque ways we all read about or see in the cinemas.  But it was her.  You liked Steve, so that she could love Steve.  And he loved you, so that he could hate her…only to realize that he loved her. Deeply...madly...and truly.”

Murray leaned back, letting his rant come to a full stop.  The air was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.  Mouths agape, brains fried and heartbeats racing.  They were stunned into shocked silence.  With a sigh, Murray made for the fridge.

“Do me a favor…”  He grabbed some juice, along with the vodka, pouring himself a cup.  Then, with a severe look in his eye, he faced the group again. 

“Don’t make a damn fuss about it yet, yeah?  Not yet.  Not to them.  Wanna do it with each other, go ahead.  But maybe lay off them for a bit, will you? Hmm?”

Everyone was surprised at the uncharacteristic parental tone in Murray’s voice and the look in his eyes.  They felt parented now.

“Maybe let the shock of this newfound realization they both just came to accept barely before my niece stopped breathing today…I dunno…simmer down a bit, yeah?”

Dustin gulped, nodding.  Robin did, too.  Eddie had pretty much bitten his nails down to stubs at this point, and Jonathan had shrunk so far down into his chair he was practically on the floor now.  Meanwhile, Nancy looked like a heartbroken child who’d just been told that Santa Claus wasn’t real.  With that, Murray raised his glass of jungle juice and exited the kitchen — vanishing, leaving the group to sit there in their own unsettled energy.

So when Lucas, Erica and Steve all shuffled back down the stairs, it alarmed them.  Robin stared at Steve and the kids, while Eddie rose to stand and grab the box of crackers from Dustin.  Jonathan swigged his coffee.  Nancy just stared at Steve helplessly.

“Alright, who needs more food before we all turn in for the night?” Steve asked as he moved to put away the sandwich fixings with Erica.

Nobody spoke, making Lucas look at them with a quizzical expression.  Erica did the same, stopping as she went to put the sleeve of bologna back into the snack pan.  Steve had been busy picking up discarded bowls and plates before he finally looked at everyone, too.  He cocked an eyebrow, confused.

“You, uhhh…you guys okay…?”

Robin tried to speak, choking on air.  Steve squinted at his best friend.  Finally, she found her voice.  “Sorry.  Got the jitters.  Too much coffee.”

She stood up hastily, collecting everyone else’s cups — even Jonathan’s, who was mid-sip.  Robin avoided Steve’s gaze as she dumped them into the sink with a very fake, wide toothy-grin.  She hummed while rinsing the cups, and Eddie clapped his hands together when rising to stand himself. 

“Better, uhh, go re-dress my, uhh — dressings.”

“I got you,” Robin said, splashing the hot water and dropping the sponge so that she could hurriedly dry off her hands and follow Eddie out of the room – giving Steve a quick kiss on the head.  He watched her go, curious. 

But then he saw Jonathan and Nancy sitting over at the table still, along with Dustin — who was staring back at him sheepishly.  The curly-haired kid stood up, clearing his throat and shuffling over with the now very-empty box of crackers.  He whistled while tossing it into the garbage and moved to finish the dishes.  That definitely made Steve raise an eyebrow.  But he figured it was out of pity, so instead he just gave the kid a pat on the back and ruffled his hair before going back to tidying up the kitchen.

Nancy felt queasy.  Really queasy.  And looking at Steve was not helping, especially being seated next to Jonathan.  She rose to stand, making him look at her back with queasiness of his own.  He watched the back of his girlfriend as she started to turn to look back at him…and when she couldn’t, it made his heart sink.  She walked towards the living room, disappearing behind the wall.  But not before passing by Joyce, who made her way into the kitchen to give Steve a motherly touch on the arm.

“Dr. Owens will be here first thing in the morning,” she told him, reassuringly.  “Real early.  Probably 6AM.  Hopper’s letting Murray know.”

Nancy refused to let herself cry that night about Steve Harrington and her newly unrequited love.

Jonathan watched his mom comfort Steve, and while it made him grateful it also made him sad.  Steve sighed with relief as he thanked Mrs. Byers, and when his mother began to help him find some temporary pain medication that Dr. Owen’s instructed her to give you, he decided he couldn’t listen anymore and left.

“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with her, do you?” Dustin asked.  “You know, heart-wise or anything…?”

“She’s gonna be fine,” Joyce told him sweetly, rubbing Steve’s back as he leaned against the kitchen counter with a tense back.  “Her heart, her shoulder, her mind.  Everything.”

Steve took deep breaths, and Erica would have hugged him if she weren’t so profusely against giving anyone any sort of physical affection. 

Lucas, however, did move to squeeze Steve’s shoulder next to Joyce.  After all the comfort he’d gotten from him after Max died, then got brought back…and still received, with her being in a coma…Lucas understood Steve’s pain. 

No one knew it, but Lucas had secretly caught onto Steve’s feelings for you whenever he went to visit Max in her room one morning but heard you both sitting in there.  Selfishly, he’d stayed behind the cracked door to listen in…and it made him freeze in place.  They way you and Steve bonded, despite all the rivalry between you both.  The way you both spoke to one another in Max’s presence, like she was keeping the storm at bay despite being asleep.  Lucas felt as though he was listening to a conversation taking place between two fighting parents, who were finally finding common ground.  He had secretly listened like a little kid, leaning against the wall, giddy and heartbroken at the same time.  Lucas wasn’t sure why, but he knew.  He just knew.  You two were crazy for one another.  Maybe because he and Max had their struggles, too.  Maybe something about the way Steve pushed you, and you pushed Steve — maybe it reminded him of them, just as older teens.  Steve was his hero, and you were Max’s.  He would give anything to talk with her about it, to hear whatever she had to say about the two of you…the unlikely duo…

But he didn’t say anything about it.  He felt it best not to push anything.  Not yet.  When Max woke up, he would.  But maybe now, he wouldn’t have to.  Because Steve had been faced with the possibility of losing you.  And if he was gonna mess that up, then that's preposterous.  Then Lucas would say something.

***

That night, Steve crawled back upstairs and ran into Robin coming out of his bedroom, having just discarded Eddie’s only wound dressings in the hallway bathroom and changing into her pajamas.  She was staying in Steve’s room, per usual.  And she wondered if she might have just caught him coming upstairs to sneak into your room and not his.  At this rate, nothing was a surprise anymore.  Thanks, Murray.

“Hey, dingus,” she grinned.  Steve grinned back. 

“You gonna finally get some sleep?” he asked her.

“Yeah,” she nodded, gesturing to the blankets in her hands.  “Was just gonna go give Eds some fresh blankets.”

“Lemme know if you need help with that, seriously.  His wounds, I mean.  I’ll have Dr. Owens check on him tomorrow too, whenever he comes to check on Bauman.”

Robin nodded, biting her lip.  God, she wanted to ask him so many questions.  Hug him.  Tell her best friend to spill the damn beans.  Demand him to cry, to break down in front of her.  To scream.  To laugh.  Anything.

“Robs, you good?”

“Steve, I love you,” Robin blurted.  “Like – love you to death.  Best friends forever.  Just — just…”  She bit her lip some more, trying really hard to think before she speaks.  Steve waited patiently, a bit nervous.  Robin sighed.  “Just know that…I’m here.  And I’m always gonna be here.  Supporting you, with…whatever you need.  Even if that’s to shut up and just help you with something and not ask you any questions.  Alright…?”

Steve’s eyes sparkled, and he stitched up the distance between them to give her the tightest of hugs.  His best friend of a soulmate.  Platonic with a capital P.  Robin hugged him back fiercely, dropping the blankets.  She sagged with relief.  Thank God.

“Don’t wait up for me,” Steve mumbled into her hair.

“Cool.”

“Bed’s all yours.  Spread out.  Starfish.  Steal all the covers.”

Robin snorted into Steve’s shoulder, squeezing him tighter.  “Okay.  Cool, yay.”

Steve chuckled too, squeezing her to death.  He really did have the best friend in the world.  They swayed a bit like that for a moment, content and comforted in each others’ embrace.  Then finally, Steve pulled back and Robin ruffled his hair.  He rolled his eyes, swatting at her lightly as she grinned wide.  Scooping down to pick up the blankets, he handed them back over to Robin.  She smirked.

“Is she a cover hog, too?” Robin teased.

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t ask questions?”

Robin saluted, making her way towards the stairs.  “Sir, yes, sir.” 

Steve could finally breathe for the first time all day, aside from whenever you were safely in his arms.  Knowing that he had his best friend on his side without needing to have a full blown conversation about anything yet…that really helped lighten the load a bit.  He exhaled deeply, letting the relief seep into his bones as he made his way to his bedroom door.

***

Once inside, Steve felt his heart swell.  There you were, tucked in bed still, sleeping peacefully.  Steve walked over to crouch over and kiss your forehead, gently stroking your hair.  He noticed you seemed to still be in the same position.  Almost like you hadn’t moved at all.  He looked at the clock.  It’s…been hours.  Several hours.  At least 4.  He looked back down at you, seeing how still you were in the dark. 

His heart stopped.  Were you too still?

Steve placed a trembling hand underneath your nose, too shaky to be able to tell.  But when he felt nothing, he frantically grabbed your wrist — yanking it off your chest to feel for a pulse —

You moved, stirring awake and looking at him groggily.  Steve just about collapsed, clutching your hand and bringing it to his lips as he sunk down onto his knees.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and another to your palm.

You groaned lightly, moving to turn towards Steve and yawning.  He melted. 

“How long have I been out…” you asked him sleepily. 

“Hours,” he told you.  “Which is good.  You need sleep.”

You sighed, eyes fluttering tiredly.  “M’hungry.”

That made Steve grin ear to ear.  “I can fix that.  Want me to bring it up here?” 

A grin slowly made its way onto your face too, and you nodded gratefully.  Steve squeezed your hand, leaning forward to peck your forehead and your nose and your lips before promising you he would return. 

When he did, he came back with the bowl of hot soup that your uncle had kept warm for you along with water and some pain medication.  You were sitting up now, leaning against Steve’s chest as he sat with his legs caging you in and leaned up against the headboard.  You had just taken the medication a few minutes earlier, now sipping on the hot soup and a tall glass of water that Steve held onto for you.

The little bedside table lamp cast a soft glow in the Harrington’s upstairs guest bedroom, and the sound of light rain outside of the window filled the room along with the plink of your spoon against the soup bowl.  Steve felt grounded as he kept his arms around your waist, circled around you as he held you close.  His chin sat on top of your head, and the scent of his lavender shampoo in your hair filled his senses with peace. 

“What’s your favorite color?”

Steve’s question surprised you as you slurped another spoonful of soup, but you swallowed and felt the corner of your lip twerk up into a little smile.

“Yellow.”

Steve felt himself smile at that, squeezing you a little tighter.  “Guess this shirt was a good choice, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m glad you bought two.  Rich kid perks ain’t so bad.”

There was lightheartedness to your tone that Steve found himself adoring.  Craving, and yearning to hear more of – should time be on all of your side, in this godforsaken town. 

“I wonder if Vecna’s rockin’ my other one down there.”

“Nah, the dogs are.”

Steve snorted, giving your hips a little squeeze and pressing a kiss to your temple.  You sighed against him, sinking back and placing the bowl of soup onto your lap.

“What’s yours?” you asked him curiously, watching the shadow of the raindrops on the ceiling as they slid down the window. 

“Blue.  Sky blue.” 

You hummed, placing one of your hands that sat on your stomach onto his and interlacing yours fingers.  “Like a pretty, non-upside-down clear blue sky?”

“Schyeah, that.”  Steve rested his chin back on top of your head as he glanced out the window, the black sky and rainfall sending a shiver down his spine.  He wondered if the world would ever feel normal again…

Steve decided to ask you more normal questions, wanting to pretend that none of the dystopian reality just outside his house was real — just for one night.  He asked you what your favorite movie was, shocked to find that you loved romcom’s.  Especially Endless Love, Pretty in Pink and Working Girl.  He wasn’t sure why he thought you’d say dark movies, or maybe sci-fi hits.  Maybe Steve didn’t know what he expected you to say.  But regardless, your answers fascinated him.  He loved learning why you thought Sigourney Weaver’s character was misunderstood in Working Girl, which led to you both discussing women in the work force and how they should receive higher pay – equal to the men.  Steve agreed with you, liking how passionate you were about it yet graceful and humble at the same time.  You were smart, but somehow underestimated.  It was strange.  You were strange.  Turns out, he loved ‘strange.’

And it also turns out, Steve liked not only action flicks — but dramas, too.  Footloose and Baby Boom were on his list of guilty pleasure movies.

“Baby Boom??” you asked incredulously.  But you weren’t mocking him, rather genuinely intrigued and amused.

“Hey, it’s adorable,” Steve defends himself with a fake scoff.  “She adopts a damn baby and raises her as her own.  Be nice.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, tilting your head back to look at him.  “God…no wonder you love those kids so much.  You’re a natural born mother.”

“Okay but seriously, since when did I become mom and not dad?”

“Apparently, I’m dad.”

“Again: since when?” Steve's tone made you chuckle deeply.

You and Steve talked until your tongues were tired, eventually having moved to lean back onto the pillows.  He rested his head into his palm, propped up on an elbow and stroking up your side as you both enjoyed innocent pillow talk.  Softly spoken voices, hushed just enough to hear one another.  Real hearty laughter that you both muffled into your palms, or each others’ necks, so that you wouldn’t wake anyone.  Sweet confessions about food preferences, least favorite holidays, questioning religion while wanting to believe in a god.  How Steve thought that vodka was the kiss of death, while you found cigarettes to be disgusting.  Steve craved strawberry ice cream, while you were a sucker for plain old vanilla.  He loved diners, and you did too.  He swore pancakes over waffles, and you made it very clear that French toast was the clear winner.  It was a give and take conversation, and you both found it resulted in far more agreements than not.  It was the loveliest conversation that either of you’d had in years.  Maybe ever.  Not just with each other…but with anyone at all.

“So…six kids and a Winnebago, huh?”

Steve’s eyes danced in the moonlight, looking at you with pure adoration.  Shyly, he tucked your hair behind your ear, slowly nodding.  “Heard that, huh?”

You gave him a little smirk.  “It was a pretty small Winnebago.”

He shook his head fondly, then — “Yeah.  Turns out being an only child gets to you.”

You nodded sadly.  “Yeah.  It does.”

Steve hated that you knew that same loneliness.  But then again, was that what made you both see each other so clearly?  Is that why you knew his deeply rooted longing and misery better than anyone else?  Is that why maybe, just maybe…in telling Nancy to run off with Jonathan…you were protecting him?  He wondered these things as he looked into your angel eyes, not knowing how in the world he could have not looked at them like this before…especially right when he met you.

You told Steve how you’d always wanted a dog growing up, which led to his immediately confessing he wanted a lab or golden retriever.  You nodded eagerly.  Yes.  Those, or a border collie.  A dog that felt like a true family member.  Even a stray mutt who needed a home.  You both laughed at the funny names you both wanted to name them as kids.  Winston, Jeffery, Petunia, PeeWee, Pumpkin, Count Duku.  When Steve suggested pancakes as a name, you had to literally turn your head into the pillow to keep your laughter from roaring through the room and waking the household.  Even Steve felt like he’d pee himself from laughing so hard, watching you laugh so hard. 

God, you were beautiful.  You were so beautiful.

…when you smiled up at Steve, bashfully, he realized that he’d said it out loud.  “So are you,” you breathed.

Steve shook his head.  “I’m not, though.”

Your brow creased.  “Yes, you are.  You know you are…and if you don’t –”

“I don’t.”

“Well, you are,” you said simply.

Steve pressed his lips together, self-conscious.  How had he felt so damn confident all those years in high school, even middle school, but not now?  You reached up to push back some of his perfect hair, caressing his cheek. 

“I haven’t been,” he confessed, almost in a whisper.  “Not to you.  I’ve been ugly.  Really ugly.”

You looked into his guilty eyes, but Steve couldn’t find any anger or sadness in yours.  Just understanding and forgiveness.

“I was, too,” you admitted.

“No,” Steve shook his head, adamantly.  “Not like me.”

“Steve, I wrecked your life.  Well, your love life.  But still, I wrecked it.”

“No, you only wrecked it when you left it,” Steve confessed, bitter at the memory but not at you.

Never at you.  Never again.

“Telling me I deserve better, and I…told you that you deserved…nothing.”  He visibly winces at his own words.  “God, I’m so sorry —”

“Steve,” you stopped him softly, cupping his cheeks.  “Don’t.  I’ve forgiven it.  Really.  You didn’t know.  You were hurt.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” Steve whispered, looking at you with those beautiful doe eyes that shone in the moonlight.  “I actively made a point to stop hurting people, and I did it again anyway.  Worse.  Way worse than my stupid King Steve days.”

You shrugged, trying to make him smile again.  “King Steve was pretty amateur compared to the hard ass you became.”

Steve bit back a laugh, maybe even some tears.  Still, he let the joke land.  You crane your neck up to nuzzle his nose, making him sigh and return the eskimo kiss.  Then you hissed in pain, letting out a little groan.

“What's wrong?” he asked worriedly, brow pinched.

“Stupid shoulder,” you muttered.  “My ribs, too, damn…”

Steve looked down at your ribcage sadly, splaying his fingers there against your skin underneath his yellow crewneck.  He sighed.  “That’s because of me,” he confessed sadly.  “Pounding on you nonstop today with the compressions.”

“Well in that case, I’ll take it.  Pain’s good.”

You winked at him, and Steve tried to let that comfort him.  It did, for the most part.  Your oxygen intake really made it worth it, in the end.  He leaned down to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as you did the same. 

“I don’t know where we’re headed,” Steve whispered against you.  “Hawkins.  The country.  The world.”  He paused, breathing you in.  “Just know I want you there.  All the time.”

You smiled, eyes still closed, heart fluttering.  “Good.  You’re stuck with me, Harrington.  Bothering the ever-living shit outta you.”

“Bother me till I go insane,” Steve breathed, nuzzling his nose against you and grinning like an idiot.  He felt happy.  Absurdly happy.  Who thought that was possible?

“...Steve?”

He opened his eyes slightly, finding yours were already looking into his.  He waited, pulling back nervously.  Which is stupid, considering you’d just told him you felt the same way.  That you wanted to stay by his side, no matter what happens.  So why was he thinking that just changed within a 3-second timespan?  Why was he suddenly worried that you —

“I love you so much.”

19 years flashed before Steve’s eyes at that moment.  His childhood.  His pre-teens, and all the teen years that followed.  He thought back to every single I love you that had been spoken to him.  It hadn’t been many.  At least not many that meant anything to him.  He could count on one hand the amount of I love you’s that meant something to him over the course of 19 years.  But now, he could count on one finger the one that meant the very most to him.

“I love you so much, too,” Steve breathed, eyes glassy and mesmerized as they looked back into yours.  “God, you’ve no idea, I…”

Steve felt overwhelmed.  He scrunched his eyes shut, resting his forehead to yours again and caressing your cheeks.  He pecked your face, every inch of it, slowly.  Little kisses peppering your face.  “I love you so much.”

He could have bawled on the spot if he weren’t so completely entranced, swept up in the tidal wave of joy that splashed across his heart, mind, body and soul.  Steve could bawl about it later.  Right now, he simply leaned into your touch and vowed to never let you go.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

bless Murray and his impeccably uncensored madness. about time he set everyone straight, damn.

as alwaysssss, thank u for reading :) this series is so much fun. please comment, it always makes my day.

TAG LIST [if I forgot u, pls lmk and pls forgive me]

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fanfiction #enemies to lovers trope #joe keery #baron marmalade #jkeeryedit #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #mishas masterlists #Steve Harrington is a mother #mom steve

[eddielove]

From bad guy to the sweetest boy

Joe acting is just amazing

#joe keery #steve harrington #gator tillman #gatortillmanedit #gator fargo #marmalade #joe keery djo #joe keery x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman smut

[finalgowrl]

watched marmalade again.

#finalgowrl post 🎧 #bc the ending gets to me every time #marmalade #marmalade 2024 #baron marmalade #joe keery #camila morrone #aldis hodge #baron fanfics #baron x you #baron x reader #baron #djo #moonpie #joe keery x you #joe keery x reader

[tuiccim]

Angelface

Pairing: Nomad Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Smut NSFW 18+. Virginity loss, innocence kink, praise, pleasure dom, sex work, unprotected sex/exposure (wrap it before you tap it!.)

Word count: 4k

Summary: It just never happened for you and you were tired of being a virgin. You wanted experience and you wanted your first time to be good, so you hire one of the infamous madam, Lady Marmalade's gentlemen to introduce you to the world of sex.

A/N: This is for the Thot Neighborhood's Lady Marmalade Writing Challenge organized by @yarnforbrains​. Thank you to the lovely @whisperlullabyfor beta reading for me. Lady Marmalade banner by @yarnforbrains. Moodboard and dividers by me.

Dedicated to my darling friend @mjolnir-steve.

You stood in the room you had been shown to and trembled as you waited. Clad in the lingerie you had bought for this night, you take slow breaths while casting your eyes around the room. It was opulent, as was everything in Lady Marmalade’s establishment, but this room was more muted than others you had seen. The king size bed was covered in a soft comforter with silken sheets underneath. Mahogany and green furniture were placed around the room and you wondered if anyone else had ever stood in the middle of it as you did, both scared and excited to be taking this step. 

You had chosen carefully among the options for your first adventure. Nomad was described as a pleasure dom who was both gentle and firm. And it didn’t hurt that he was the most delicious looking man you had ever seen. Tall, dark blond, and muscular with a beard and beautiful blue eyes. You were excited to meet him, but when the knock on the door came the butterflies in your stomach worked double time. 

“C-come in,” you called. 

“Hi. I’m Nomad.”” The adonis that walked in was even larger than you expected and your eyes widened. 

“Hi,” you shift uncomfortably. 

Nomad steps into your space with an air of self-assurance that makes you feel small. His fingers tip your chin up to look you in the face. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“Let’s go over the rules, okay?” His voice is mesmerizing and you find yourself nodding along. 

He takes your hand and guides you to a large armchair where he sits. He looks up at you expectantly making you move towards the matching chair but he pulls you into his lap. 

“Sit here, Angelface,” he says softly. 

“Oh, okay,” you shift in his lap to get more comfortable. 

“Careful. I’ll forget to go over the rules if you keep squirming like that.”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“I’m just kidding. Are you nervous, angel?”

“A little. I’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t worry. I'll make sure you enjoy it. First, we need to establish a safe word. Do you have one chosen?” Nomad asks. 

“Is tulip okay?” you ask. You’d never had a safe word before but you had read about them and came up with one just in case he asked. 

“Perfect. I read your sheet with your limits and preferences,” Nomad asks a few questions that you stammer replies to while he interlaces the guidelines for the night. 

In all of his questions you never can quite bring yourself to admit the real reason you’re here. How do you tell him that you chose to lose your virginity in this way? You had come here in hopes that this would be a pleasant and pleasurable experience. You wanted your first time to be enjoyable since it wouldn’t be with someone special. 

“You have me all night. When we’re done, would you like me to stay or leave?” Nomad asks. The question throws you off and you panic searching for the right answer. “Hey. It’s okay. You can decide later.”

“I think stay,” you reply tremulously. 

“Okay. You can change your mind at any time. Now, I think that was everything we needed to go over,” Nomad smiles as his hand wanders up your thigh and caresses your hip. “Would you like to get started?”

You nod nervously and he captures your chin between his fingers and thumb. 

“Words,” he says with a raised eyebrow. 

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl,” he stands with you in his arms and carries you to the bed. Pulling back the covers, he lays you on the silky sheets, unties the robe you wear, and pulls it open revealing the sexy yet innocent lingerie you have beneath. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

He pulls his shirt off and settles over you. His lips touch yours gently and when you respond, he slips his tongue into your mouth. You moan lowly at the welcome intrusion and feel your body begin to tingle with anticipation. A moment later, his hands are kneading at your breasts and you feel his growing erection pressing against you. Then, suddenly, panic sets in. It was going too fast for you. You needed a minute. You needed more time. You push against his wide chest and try to pull away. 

“No. Stop,” you whisper. 

Nomad had heard those words slip past many women’s lips to encourage him to get rougher. He grabs your hands and hauls them over your head. His hips press into you harder. Burying his face in your neck, he chuckles, “Like it a little rough, huh, Angelface?”

“No. Please, stop. T- tulip!”

Before you can even entirely register his movement, Nomad is sitting at the end of the bed with his hands up in a non-threatening manner. You sit up, staring at him and breathing heavily. 

After giving you a moment to calm, he asks, “Can you tell me what I did that you didn’t like? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize. If you aren’t completely comfortable with what we’re doing then we need to stop. You were right to use your safe word. What do you need, angel?”

“I…” you feel near tears at the moment. Shame welled up in you as you admitted to your lack of experience, “I’ve never done this before. Any of this.”

“Okay. Let me make sure I’m understanding you correctly. When you say you’ve never done this you mean sex?” Nomad cocks his head. 

“Yes.”

“Okay. Tell me what you have experienced.”

“Um, kissing. Some p-petting. Over the clothes. I-” you’re so embarrassed you have trouble continuing. 

“You? It’s okay, angel. There’s no judgment here. Tell me what it is you’re looking for.”

Exasperated with yourself and the situation, you blurt out, “I’m a virgin and I don’t want to be anymore. I just realized at this point it’s never going to happen the way I thought it would. I want to experience it and I want it to be good. I want to be introduced to it by someone who knows what they’re doing. But at the same time, I’m scared. I’m nervous because I don’t know what I’m doing and it was going so fast. I just wanted to go a little slower. I want to learn what I like and how to do things. I know it’s pathetic and I was scared to tell you before because what if you don’t want a client like that.”

Truth was, Nomad found your confession endearing. His heart went out to you but not out of pity. He was impressed and turned on by your adventurous spirit. He reined in his smile so you wouldn’t think he was laughing at you and explained, “It’s not pathetic. It’s actually pretty cool. It just never happened for you and instead of waiting for it, you found a way to have the experience for yourself the way you want it. I admire that.”

“Really?” you ask, wrapping your arms around yourself. 

“Really. And, truthfully, it’s hot to think I’ll be the first you ever experience those things with,” he slides closer to you, watching to make sure you didn’t shy away. 

“Nomad, you-”

“Steve.”

“What?” you look at him curiously. 

“My real name is Steve,” he explains. 

Understanding that he was revealing a glimpse beyond the facade to make himself more real to you, you smile, “Steve. You, um, you don’t have to say that. I know it’s not exactly sexy.”

“I think you’re very sexy,” Steve smiles sweetly. 

“You have to say that,” you demure.

“No, I don’t. Tell you what, I promise I won’t say anything I don’t mean as long as you promise to be honest with me about what you like and don’t.”

You lick your lips and nod. 

“Words,” he whispers. 

A thrill goes through you at the command spoken so gently, “Yes, agreed.”

“Good girl,” he says, causing another zephyr of pleasure to trill through you. “Can I touch you?”

Staring at him, you start to nod but then quickly breathe out a yes. 

“Fast learner. I like that,” Steve caresses your face and swipes a thumb over your lips. “We’re going to take it slow and I’m going to check in with you as we go. I promise you, angel, I’m going to make sure you enjoy this. Use your safe word if you want me to stop. Tell me if there is something you don’t like. I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

“Yes,” the word comes out embarrassingly fast. 

His lips caress yours in a gentle kiss. Pulling back, he looks at you for any apprehension before going back in for another kiss. You take the initiative to put your hand on his chest as your lips flirt with his and a little thrill goes through him. He's surprised at the way he’s reacting to you. He can always perform but he’s never felt this level of attraction or emotion with a client. Maybe it was your innocence or knowing the trust you were putting in him but he was enthralled. 

As the kiss deepened, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you onto his lap. He hadn’t wanted to lay you back under him again until you were a little more comfortable. You melt into him, shifting in his lap to bring yourself closer. 

“Little squirmer, aren’t you?” Steve whispers as he trails kisses down your neck. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper nervously. 

“I like it, angel,” his teeth scrape your skin sending a shiver through you. He pulls you more firmly against him and ruts his hips into you. 

You release a small gasp when you feel his erection press against you. Steve pulls the strap of your negligee down your shoulder before pausing with his hand hovering above your breast, “Can I touch you here, angel?”

“Please,” you whisper. Your body is tingling in anticipation of his touch and when his thumb swipes over your nipple you let out a whimper and bury your face in his neck. You berate yourself for sounding so pathetically needy but you were already gushing, and by the time he got to your panties they would be soaked through. 

“Don’t hide from me. You like that?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to lay you back and take this off of you. I want to be able to feel every inch of this soft skin."

You laid on the bed feeling vulnerable in only a pair of panties. Steve leans on his arm while trailing a hand back down to your breast. He kisses you with more intensity as his hand makes its way lower on your stomach until his fingertips brush your pantyline. You take a shuddering breath causing him to pull back in order to stare into your eyes, “Okay?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered, staring at him wide-eyed. 

“Good girl,” he says as he kisses you again. 

You whimper into the kiss when his hand brushes your folds. His finger traces your slit and then circles your clit making you moan. "That's it. Let me hear how good it feels."

Steve trails kisses down your neck and chest. When he reaches your breast, he flattens his tongue to give a long lick across your taunt nipple. Your back arches as a little cry escapes you. Encouraged, he does the same to your other side and then switches back and forth between the two making you writhe under him. His fingers had played over your clit making you feel incredibly warm and when he reached to pull the panties off of you, you had lifted up to oblige him. 

His fingers rubbed over your clit a few more times and then slipped lower to press at your entrance. Your knees lifted just a bit signaling Steve that you wanted him to continue. He slid one finger into you and you let out a small cry as your sweet cunt seemed to pull him.

"Fuck, you feel good," he says. "Angelface, I want to go down on you."

You nod as you stare up at him, barely managing to whisper a yes. 

"Normally, I'd use a dental dam but I want you to feel the warmth and wetness. And, truthfully, I really want to taste you. Is that okay? I've always used protection before and I'm tested regularly…"

 "Yes. It's okay," your mind reels. He wanted to taste you? Fuck, that sounded so hot coming out of him. He trailed kisses down your stomach and your breathing picked up. When his lips hit your apex, you let out an exclamation, "Oh!"

"I'm just getting started, angelface," Steve says as he takes a long lick up your slit.

Your eyes slam shut and your head tips back as he works his tongue over you. Grabbing the sheets, you open your legs wider, finding the sensations almost overwhelmingly pleasurable. He works his finger in and out of you in time with his tongue over your clit, building you up expertly. Swirling his tongue in swift circles, all of Steve's concentration is on making this as good for you as possible. When you begin to tremble, your whimpers coming closer together, he knows you're approaching the precipice.

"Let go, angel. Come for me," he encourages before diving back in. 

"Oh, fuck, oh, God," you whine before letting out a high pitch whimper as your orgasm breaks over you.

Steve works you through it making sure to pull every sweet sound and shudder from you. When you've come down, he kisses his way slowly back up to your lips. He smiles down at you and then stands to reach for the buttons on his pants but you put a hand out.

"C-can I do that?" You ask timidly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, angelface,” Steve watches enthralled as you glance up at him innocently and then concentrate on taking his pants off. You’re surprised when you realize he isn’t wearing underwear beneath them and take a quick breath as his length bobs in front of you. 

Tentatively, you reach out to touch him before pulling your hand back, “Is it okay to touch you?”

Steve nods down at you. 

Smirking, you raise an eyebrow and repeat what he had told you several times, “Words.”

Steve’s cock jumps at the sassy remark and he reaches down to squeeze your face with one hand, “I’m gonna let that go but get sassy with me again and some discipline will be in order. Now, touch me. However you want.”

A thrill goes through you at the authoritative way he speaks. Reaching out, you brush your fingertips over his hard length. The skin was surprisingly soft in contrast and you trail your fingers down him until you gently cup his heavy balls. His breathing picks up and you wrap your fingers around him to pump gently. Licking your lips, you watch as he twitches in your hand.

“That’s good,” Steve whispers. The sweet way you were studying him and then watching your tongue wet your lips as if they wanted to wrap around him made him nearly feral. He wanted to throw you back on the bed and bury himself in you but he held himself off allowing you to explore. A drop of precum beads the tip and, without a second thought, your tongue darts out to lap it up. 

“Fuck!” Steve pulls away from you. 

“I’m sorry! I should have asked! I’m so sorry!” you cry, terrified you had overstepped. 

His chest is heaving and hands flex at his sides as his eyes bore into yours. 

“I’ll…I’ll go,” You start to stand but are suddenly pushed back on the bed. Steve’s body covers yours and he kisses you fiercely. You gasp but wrap your arms around him. His knee wedges between your legs and you know he can feel your wetness as you grind against his thigh. 

“Fuck, fuck. Jesus,” Steve exclaims as he rolls off you and onto his back. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes as he breathes deeply. You stare at him in confusion and when he finally turns to look at you, his gut clenches. “I’m sorry, angelface. It’s okay. Everything’s fine.”

“I don’t understand what just happened.”

“When, that… fuck. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced and all I wanted to do was bury my cock as deep in you as I could. I had to stop myself and calm down before I did something stupid. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please,” you whisper, “please hurt me. I want this. I want you.”

“Angel, you can’t say things like that. I’m gonna combust,” Steve groans. 

You take a moment to consider and then throw a leg over to straddle him. You rub yourself against his cock, “Please, please, Steve.”

“Fuck, let me put a condom on.”

“Do you have to? Can I feel you just this one time? Please,” you can barely contain yourself. You were so ready to sink down on him, to finally feel what it’s like to be full and fucked.

“Go slow, angelface. I don’t want to hurt you,” he groans as his hands grip your hips. 

It was awkward for a moment while you try to position him at your entrance until he reaches to help and then you let out a whimper as you feel his head press in. He watched you, every look that flashed across your face as you slowly worked him in. Fuck, he could come just watching you on top of him. The stretch was intense at first and a few bites of pain hit you. 

“Wait right there,” he commands when you pause and wince. His thumb rubs over your clit and he talks to you as he builds you up. “You look so fucking hot on top of me. You licked my cock earlier and I nearly lost my mind. Couldn’t wait to get inside you and then when I try to hold myself off, you climb right on top and go after what you want. Fuck, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. Look at me. Look in my eyes. I want you to come. I’m not going to let you move until you do and I can tell you want to. You want to ride my cock while I’m playing with you so you can know what it feels like but not yet. First I want you to come and clench around my cock. You can do it for me, angelface.”

His words push you over the edge and you come with a cry, clenching around his cock as your body cries out for more of him. You begin to move again, the pain a distant memory already. Your body welcomes him and you can’t find it in yourself to care about anything but the meeting of your bodies. 

“Good girl. That made it easier, huh? Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Oh, God, Steve! I didn’t know. It feels so good. Fuck,” you whine as you move and within a few seconds you come again, squeezing his cock. 

Steve’s face is in a grimace as he holds himself back from coming inside of you. When you’ve come down, he grabs you and flips you under him. His hips make slow circles against you, rubbing your clit with his V and making you lift your legs to draw him even closer. He kisses you deeply, his tongue pressing into your mouth before he pulls back to press his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll be right back, angel. I’m gonna slip a condom on. You’re making it hard to hold myself back.”

“Okay,” you whisper. You watch him slip out and you immediately miss the stretch of his cock in you. You didn’t think it would be this good. The way he talked to you, the way he moved, everything about him made you feel so incredibly comfortable and turned on. 

When he came back to the bed, your bodies fit together so naturally that you could swear he had already memorized you. He kissed you and gently pressed in again. 

“Oh, God,” you whimpered. 

“Feel good, angelface?”

“Yes. I…” you trail off. 

“You what? Talk to me,” Steve stares into your eyes. 

“I want more,” you feel your face heat, unsure how to express yourself. 

“More what?”

“I want to come with you inside me again. I… I want you to come.”

“Angel! Fucking hell, you’re so hot and so sweet,” Steve rains praises down on you as he moves a little faster. He builds you up with kisses and praise. His cock hits the sweet spot inside you and then he presses down on your mound as he fucks into you harder. Your eyes fly wide and you cry out as your body spasms and squirts. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. So fucking good for me,” Steve groans out the words as he comes hard. He collapses, rolling you both on your sides and pulls you against him. When your breathing returns to normal, he smiles at you, “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Me, too,” you reply and then giggle. 

Steve laughs, charmed by this playful side of you, “I can do better.”

And he did. He spent the next few hours tutoring you, with drink breaks and conversation in between. He had you on your back, your belly, all fours, on top, and standing in the shower. When you finally passed out in his arms, after he utterly exhausted you, he smiled as he buried his face in your hair to sleep. 

Waking up several hours later, sunlight streaming in through the windows, you felt his cock pressed against you from behind as he spooned you. 

“Good morning,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder. 

“Good morning,” you smiled. 

“Can I have you one more time, angelface? Please?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you answer. You feel him roll away and then hear the crinkle of a wrapper. A second later, he’s pressed against your back and his hand slides down to the apex of your legs. You intake a sharp breath when he brushes your folds and guides his cock inside of you. 

“Are you okay? Are you sore?” He pauses. 

“A little but I’m okay. Please don’t stop.”

He’s incredibly gentle. His hips slowly working his cock in and out of you. You reach back to pull his face into your neck. You close your eyes and relish in the feel of him and the pleasure he gives. You had more orgasms than you thought was possible the night before and you were surprised when he was able to build you up again so easily. 

“It’s so good, Steve. It’s so good,” you sob.

“I know, angel. Fuck, you feel so good. Are you going to come for me again, pretty girl? Huh? I need to feel you coming around me again. Now, be a good girl and come for me. You can do that, can’t you?”

“Yes, yes!” you tremble as your orgasm overtakes you. The praise gave you almost as much pleasure as his talented cock and fingers. 

“Good girl. Such a good, fucking girl,” Steve shudders as you milk him with your orgasm. 

A little later, you’re dressed and ready to leave. Steve watches you with melancholy. He had never had an experience like the night before and he was already craving your body again but he also had enjoyed your mind. Conversation and laughter had flown easily between the two of you and he found himself hoping. Kissing you, he smiles and says, “You’ll come back to see me, won’t you? I have more to teach you.”

You smile at him and nod before kissing him one last time and slipping out of the room. You felt bad for lying to him. You knew yourself and you wouldn’t be able to stop from falling for the man that had shown you such kindness, gentleness, and pleasure. After all, you had accomplished your goal. Glancing back at the man watching you from the top of the stairs, you felt like crying knowing you’d never see him again. 

Part Two

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[lunarbuck]

Layin' Down the Law

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x f!reader

WC: 4.7k

Summary: You’re never adventurous. Why not try something new at Lady Marmalade’s House of Tea and Jam?

Warnings: swearing, pet names [princess, angel, sweets], smut (p in v), oral (m and f receiving), s*x work, degradation/praise kink, dumbification, choking, handcuffs/restraint, overstimulation, spanking

A/N: Not only is this my first time writing for Lee but it’s also my first time writing about any sort of SW so please excuse any inaccuracies!! This was mega out of my comfort zone but i’m OBSESSED with how it turned out :))) please please please let me know what you think 💕

p.s. thank you to the lovely @purpleshallot and @mumbles411 for beta reading for me <3

main masterlist | one shot masterlist | challenge masterlist

You sit at the bar, nervously stirring your cocktail. You breathe deeply through your nose, trying to calm yourself down. You’d made it this far; stepping into the house was the first step. Sitting at the bar was the second, and ordering a drink was the third. Step four is ordering one of the ‘services’ from the menu in front of you. 

Various names and images are organized neatly on the menu. All of the men are very attractive, and their assorted talents make butterflies flit around your belly. You remind yourself why you’re here. Tonight is all about getting out of your comfort zone and trying new things. 

You run your fingers along the text, searching for the perfect man. Your eyes fall upon one listed only as ‘The Sheriff.’ Even just from the photo, you can tell he is big and broad. His eyes are a beautiful blue, but there’s something darker there. There’s something in his gaze; you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from the photo. When you read his specialty, heat licks in your lower abdomen.

“See anything you like?” a woman asks from beside you. You quickly straighten up and stare at her. Your jaw falls open as you stare at the owner of this… establishment. You’re not too sure of the proper lingo.

“Oh, uh,” you stammer, trying to find your words. “Yes.” The woman, Lady Marmalade, smiles warmly at you and glances down at the menu in front of you.

“And which of my fine specimens has caught your eye?” she asks, running a long, perfectly manicured nail along the menu. You look back down at the photos and can’t help but be drawn to the Sheriff. Lady Marmalade must notice your fascination with the man because she lets out a contented sigh.

“He seems…” your voice fades out as you try to find the words to describe the man in the photo and the way he makes you feel even though you haven’t even met him.

“Would you like to meet him?” Your heartbeat thunders loudly in your ears, and you don’t realize you’re nodding until Lady Marmalade squeezes your shoulder and turns away. You quickly realize that she left with the intention of bringing the Sheriff over to you. After sitting in shock for a moment, you smooth out your shirt and skirt, trying to look a little more put together. 

“Evenin’ darlin’,” a man drawls from behind you. You slowly turn on the barstool and come face to face with the man from the photograph. He leans against the bar, the fabric of his pressed Sheriff’s uniform pulling around his muscular arms and broad chest. His hat is tilted just enough to cast a shadow over half of his face. You suck in a breath and catch yourself staring into his bright blue eyes.

“Good evening,” you whisper back. The Sheriff grins, and his tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip. 

“My name is Lee, but I think you can guess what everyone calls me,” he says, an easy smile curving across his lips. 

“They call you the Sheriff,” you laugh nervously and try not to stare at his mouth too much. “I’m not really sure how this works,” you admit. This just makes the man in front of you chuckle as he adjusts his belt. His tummy bulges over the band of his pants in a way that makes your mouth water.

“I can help you with that,” Lady Marmalade interjects, placing a gentle hand on Lee’s shoulder. She explains how payment works, the rules of the house, and makes sure you understand that your comfort is of the utmost importance. You nod along with her but find it hard to focus entirely on her words because of Lee’s heated stare. 

Once everything is settled, the Sheriff reaches out and takes your hand in his, and leads you up the stairs to his room. Despite the dim lighting, you can see the dark wood of the furniture spread around the room. The large bed takes up quite some space, but still, there is a small sitting area in one corner, what looks like a desk in the other, and a few books stacked on a nightstand.

The Sheriff walks you to the sitting area and helps you into one of the plush leather chairs. He takes the seat across from you, and you wait quietly for his next move.

“So,” Lee begins, leaning back in his chair. His legs are spread, and his arms stretch out on the armrests. “What brought you in this evening?” You fiddle with the hem of your skirt for a moment as you formulate your answer.

“I’m trying to do something new,” you reply quietly, averting your eyes from Lee’s powerful gaze. 

“You’ve never done something like this before?” he asks, tilting his head. You glance up at him while keeping your head down. Everything this man does is attractive; you can’t help but be drawn in.

“No,” you answer. One of Lee’s eyebrows ticks up.

“Well then, you should always have a safe word. Somethin’ you wouldn’t say normally. If you don’t like what I’m doin’ or just need to stop, you say red, and I stop. No questions, no judgment. That sound okay?”

“Yes,” you reply, sighing with a bit of relief. At least he knows what he’s doing.

“In this room, you will call me Sir or Sheriff. You got that?” His words are sharp but hold no malice. He speaks sweetly, understanding where your nerves are coming from.

“Yes, Sir,” you squeak, feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter with the use of his title. 

“Good girl,” he replies with a grin. Lee stands and rests his hands on his hips, staring down at you. “But seein’ you in this outfit makes me wonder if you really are such a good girl.” His voice turns raspy and deep; it sends vibrations through your chest.

You turn your attention to your skirt. You’ll admit it’s a little short, but you don’t think it’s too bad. It’s plaid, almost school-girl-looking. You’d chosen it because it’s comfortable, but now you can see why maybe it would send the wrong message.

“You don’t like it?” you ask in a small voice, fiddling with its hem. You hear the shuffle of fabric, and suddenly Lee’s large shadow looms over you. He has shrugged off his blue Sheriff’s jacket, leaving him only in a white button-down and his slacks. Lee runs his hand along his jaw, the scruff on his chin making the perfect scratching noise against his calloused hands.

“I love it, princess, but I can’t have you walkin’ around lookin’ like this. What would people think?” You shift nervously, rubbing your thighs together without thinking about it. 

“I’m not sure, Sheriff,” you say quietly. Lee crouches down and catches your gaze, captivating you.

“They’d give that skirt one look and think you’re a whore,” he says, practically purring at you. Something in your belly twitches when the word ‘whore’ rolls off his tongue. You’ve never liked the sound of that word, but when he says it… it sounds incredible.

“A whore?” Your heart speeds up in your chest; you know you’re breathing heavily. 

“A whore,” he confirms, reaching up to take his hat off. “You want everyone to think you’re a whore?” the Sheriff asks sincerely. 

You shake your head. You don’t want people to think that, no.

Lee chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “But you are a whore, aren’t you, princess?” Your eyes go wide as you suck in a shaky breath.

“No, Sir,” you reply. You don’t think you’re a whore; in fact, most people would say you’re quite the opposite.

Lee just hums, seeming to think he didn’t need to respond. Instead, he stands and begins to unbuckle his belt. You can see he’s already hard; his erection is pressed against his waistband in a way that looks almost painful. From the outline of his dick in his pants, you can tell that he’s big, bigger than anything you’ve ever experienced.

Lee slides his belt out of the loops and drops it on the chair behind him. You watch, unable to pull your eyes away from the movement. He smiles and reaches out, running his hand down your jaw to grip your chin in a few of his fingers.

“But tonight, you’re my little whore, aren’t you?” he teases, pulling your bottom lip down with his thumb. You nod, hypnotized by the Sheriff’s deep blue eyes. “Yes, you are,” he breathes. Using his grip on your chin, Lee coaxes you up out of your chair to stand in front of him. He is a mountain of a man, and despite the height your shoes give you, you still have to crane your head to look at his face. 

The Sheriff lets his fingers travel across your face, down your neck, and to your chest. His hands rest on your upper ribs, palms pressing ever so slightly against the edge of your breasts. Your breath hitches as you watch his grin spread, showing off the sharp edge of one of his canines.

His hands are heavy on you as they run along your body, but you welcome the pressure, his touch. Lee drinks you in, devouring every inch of you with a heated gaze. You do the same to him. The way his shirt stretches over his shoulders, his chest, his belly, it’s all so perfect. You find yourself wanting to lick every inch of him, to show him just how much you love his body, but for some reason, you can’t get yourself to reach out to him. His large hands cup your breasts from outside your shirt. You want to feel his skin against yours so badly.

Something takes over your mind, and before you can stop yourself, you sink to your knees in front of the Sheriff. You gaze up at him from your spot on the floor, and he smirks down at you, petting your hair and brushing it from your face. 

“Whatcha doin’ down there?” He asks, cocking his head. You shift your gaze away from his eyes and to the bulge in his pants that is now in front of your face. 

“Wanna make you feel good,” you whisper, barely able to hear your own words. You let your hands trail up his legs, and when you reach the button on his pants, you hear him suck in a breath. You flick open the button a moment later and drag down his zipper, revealing a pair of plaid boxers. You hook your fingers in the waistband of his pants and tug them down his legs before looking back up at Lee for his approval.

“You wanna make me feel good, angel?” The Sheriff pats your head again, pushing you slightly toward the tented fabric in front of you. “Then do it. Show me how much you want my cock. Suck my dick like the pretty little whore you are.” Wetness pools in your panties at his words. 

Lee helps you remove his boxers, and the second they’re down past his ass, his cock is in your face. It’s big, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at the sight. Your eyes track his movement as he slides a condom over his length.

The Sheriff’s fingers tangle in your hair, lightly scratching your scalp as you lick up his shaft, base to tip. You take a moment to swirl your tongue along the tip of his cock as you mentally prepare yourself to take him into your throat. You’ve never seen a dick this big; you’re not sure what you’ve gotten yourself into now.

You sink your mouth down on his cock, taking him inch by inch, but you know the Sheriff wants you to go faster. His grip on your hair tightens as his restraint gets to its tipping point. You gag around his dick, and he snaps, pressing your head down further and further until your nose is nestled against the base of his dick. Your throat protests the intrusion, but you won’t lie; you love the way it feels to have him controlling your movements, to have his cock so far in your mouth.

After letting you adjust to his size for a moment, Lee starts to guide your head up and down, using you like a toy. He fucks your face, not caring about letting you breathe or the sound of you gagging.

“Your throat is so tight, princess. It’s squeezin’ me so hard. What a good little whore for me,” he grunts, holding you down at the base of his dick again. You moan around his cock and when you come up for air you try to speak, but he pushes your head back down. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s rude.”

One of your hands grips the Sheriff’s thigh while your dominant hand drifts down to between your thighs, finding your clit. The second you make contact with your pussy you moan around his cock. Sucking him off has gotten you so worked up that you feel like you could come any minute.

Your fingers work your clit in tight circles, bringing you to your peak almost instantly, but Lee pulls away just as you’re about to fall over the edge. He steps back abruptly and crouches down, yanking your arm away from your pussy.

Lee chuckles as you take heaving breaths, rubbing your thighs together to get any friction back. He tuts at you and stands, tugging you along with him. He drags you to the bed and tosses you onto the mattress, causing you to bounce a few times.

From the feral look in his eyes, you know you’ve done something wrong. The Sheriff reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a pair of shiny, silver hand-cuffs.

“What’re those for,” you ask, licking your lips. Your hands grip the bedsheets, and your body hums with nerves. You know what he’s going to do, but you want to hear him say it first.

“Did I tell you you could touch yourself?” He asks, stalking toward you. He opens one of the cuffs and grabs your wrist, fastening the manacle tightly. The Sheriff does the same with your other wrist, connecting the cuffs, so your hands are stuck behind your back. The cuffs are almost too tight, and there is almost too much pressure on your shoulders, but you don’t care. It feels so good.

You’ve never lived out these fantasies before. You’ve only thought about them in the privacy of your home. No partner ever knew about the depth of your depravity, but having the Sheriff call you a whore, having him cuff you, it makes your head spin. It’s perfect.

“No, Sir,” you reply, trying to maintain eye contact with the intimidating man in front of you. 

“So why the fuck were you touching that pretty pussy of yours?” He grips your chin between his fingers and tilts your head back, exposing your throat. Lee’s other hand circles around your throat, squeezing it just enough so you feel it, but he doesn’t choke you.

“I wanted to come,” you say weakly, watching the heat of lust grow in his eyes.

“What a greedy girl,” he says, bringing his face close to yours. The Sheriff uses his grip on your throat to push you back against the mattress. “Such a dumb fucking whore,” he teases, positioning you on the bed so you’re on your stomach and your ass is in the air.

You feel the mattress dip behind you. Lee kneels behind you and runs his large hands over the backs of your legs and your ass. “You wanna come, right?”

Even with your face pressed into the sheets, you moan loudly. “Yes, Sir.”

“That’s all you can think about, huh?” the Sheriff asks, flipping your skirt up to expose your panties and ass. “It’s the only thing your dumb whore brain can think of. Coming.” You whimper at his words, loving the way he speaks to you.

Your only response is to gasp, unable to formulate something to say.

“I don’t think you deserve to come,” he says, slapping your ass harshly. “You gotta earn that.” Lee shifts behind you, and a moment later, you feel the head of his cock press against the back of your thigh. You can’t help but wiggle your hips in anticipation of what is to come. He was so big in your mouth; you have no idea how you’ll take him in your pussy.

“Please,” you whimper, stretching out your fingers, hoping to grasp onto anything. The Sheriff spanks you again and positions his cock at your wet entrance. 

“That’s right, sweets, beg for me to fuck you like the whore you are.” You feel yourself getting wetter at the thought, and you arch your back even more.

“Please, Sheriff, please fuck me. I need your cock so bad,” you moan wantonly. 

“Good girl.” Lee presses into you and doesn’t bother to give you time to adjust to his size. His cock stretches you out so much that you swear he’s going to split you in half. Your breath hitches when you feel the press of his hips against your ass. 

“Oh my god,” you shudder, feeling your pussy pulse around his thick cock. You can practically feel every ridge, every vein; you’re so sensitive. The Sheriff reaches down and presses his hand against the back of your neck, pushing you further into the mattress.

“Your pussy feels so good around my cock, princess. You’re taking me so well.” The hand that isn’t around your throat snakes down to circle your clit. The pressure is perfect, and you buck back against Lee’s hips. 

He sets a brutal pace that takes your breath away and doesn’t give you a chance to think. His hips snap against your ass, pressing his cock so deep in you that you can feel him in your throat. Lee brings you right up to the edge, but he doesn’t let you cum. Every time you think he’s going to give it to you, he lets up on your clit. 

“Sheriff, please, please,” you beg, sounding pathetic. The Sheriff bites out a laugh and takes his hand off your neck to spank you a few times.

“You don’t get to come until I say you do. I’m the law around here, princess. You do as I fuckin’ say.” You nod as best you can as he pulls out and switches where you’re positioned. Lee lifts your shoulders and sits against the headboard, legs out in front of him. “Come ride my cock,” he says sternly. You shuffle on your knees over to him, and he helps you position your knees on the outside of his lap.

The Sheriff holds his cock up for you as you sink down, inch by inch, until you’re fully seated on top of him. Your head tilts back as you moan, feeling him even deeper inside you than before. Lee leans his head back against the headboard, and his fingers flick open the buttons of your top, leaving it open to expose your bra. 

You start to rock your hips as the Sheriff unfastens your bra, smiling at how it opens in the front as if you’d thought it all through earlier. Lee’s hands cup your tits, and his fingers pinch your nipples, sending shockwaves through you. 

“Fuck,” you moan, grinding your clit against the base of his cock. Lee’s hands shift to grab your hips, lifting you and pushing you down over and over again on his dick. You love the way he uses you, the way he takes his pleasure from you. 

“Show me how much you want my cock, angel. Show me what a fucking slut you are.” You take over the movements, rocking your hips and fucking the Sheriff. He lets his hands roam your body, groping and pinching at your sensitive spots while you bounce on his cock. “Tell me how much you love taking my cock,” he grunts, threading his hands through your hair.

“Mmh– I– fuck,” you babble, unable to come up with a coherent thought. The Sheriff smirks and laughs, low and deep.

“You’re so fuckin’ drunk on my cock that you can’t think, huh?” he taunts, putting on a patronizing voice. “Such a dumb little cockwhore.” Tears prick in the corners of your eyes; being on edge for so long is getting to be too much. You’re sensitive and so, so ready to come. 

You open your mouth again and attempt to speak, but nothing comes out. You just pant, working his cock hard.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this, princess. I love watching my cock disappear in your perfect pussy. You’re being such a good whore for me.” You bite out a moan and pick up your pace, trying to prove that you’re worthy of coming. 

“Sheriff,” you whimper, feeling yourself about to fall over the edge. “Please, please, please,” you chant, praying to Lee for your orgasm.

“You wanna come?” He asks, tugging your hair to tilt your head down close to his. A tear slips down your cheek, and you moan loudly as the Sheriff licks it up, trailing his tongue along your face. “You wanna come on my cock?”

“Please.” Your voice is hoarse and scratchy, but Lee hears. He flips you around, so you’re on your back, arms pressed almost painfully into the mattress. The pain seems to push you that much closer to the edge. He leaves one hand tangled in your hair, and the other reaches around your neck, choking you. You suck in breaths as he pounds into your pussy, the sounds of your arousal and his panting music to your ears.

“Come on, baby, come like the fucking whore you are.” Lee shakes you a bit, slamming you into the mattress, and the impact pushes you over the edge. You come on a scream, convulsing and shaking like a woman possessed. 

“Oh my god,” you moan, wrapping your legs around the Sheriff’s torso. He fucks you through your orgasm to the point where you’re almost too sensitive to take him.

Your face twists up as you resist the urge to tell him to stop. Even though it’s a lot, it still feels so good.

“Good girl, sweets,” he whispers, not slowing down his thrusts. He removes his hand from your throat and brings it down to your clit, rubbing it in quick, tight circles. You moan loudly and bite your lip as Lee laughs at your sensitivity. “What, you can’t take it? I thought you were gonna be a good whore for me tonight.”

You shake your head; you’ll be good. “I can take it, Sir,” you croak, staring into his striking blue eyes.

“Then you can give me another one.” Lee changes up his pace, slowing down but pressing his cock further into your pussy to go even deeper as his fingers continue stroking your clit. Even though you just came, you’re right back on the edge, the band in your belly about to snap. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper, choking on your words. Lee’s body presses into you, lifting your legs up around his shoulders so his chest can rest on yours. He bends you in half, and it feels so fucking good. 

“That’s it, come again like the fucking slut you are.” At his command, you explode, white heat shooting down your spine. Lee’s pace falters, and you know he’s also about to finish. You clamp down on his dick, squeezing him hard. He growls and bites your shoulder as he comes, moaning loudly into your ear. 

After a moment, Lee sits up, but he doesn’t pull out. He runs his hands down your torso, gripping your tits and hips, leaving bruises for you to discover tomorrow. “You made a mess,” he says, eyes trailing down to where he’s still seated inside of you.

You pant, tongue wetting your bottom lip. Just from the look in his eyes, you know what he’s going to tell you.

“Clean it up.” Lee pulls out and stands near the edge of the bed. He grabs your hair and tugs you, so you’re kneeling on the floor in front of him. His cock drips with your combined arousal, and your mouth waters at the sight.

With your hands still cuffed, you have no assistance getting his dick into your mouth. You clumsily maneuver around his cock, bumping your face into the head a few times. The Sheriff just laughs and watches, holding your hair in his hands. When you finally latch onto his dick, you taste yourself on him and moan.

“You like that, huh? You like how your cum tastes on my cock?” You nod around his dick, licking the underside of him to clean him up. Despite just coming, he’s still semi-hard, and you love how he feels in your mouth.

You’ve never felt so used, but in this moment, you feel so so good. It’s like Lee can read your mind; he knows all of your dirtiest fantasies and makes them come true. You’re not sure how you’re going to go back to normal guys after this.

The Sheriff guides your head off of his cock and crouches down to be at eye-level with you. You stare into his deep blue eyes, which are nearly black at this point, but they still suck you in. His round face is tinged pink, and a bead of sweat drips from his brow. The way he looks at you is primal, like he wants you to hunt you down and break you.

You’d let him.

You feel a wave of pleasure run through you at the thought. Lee must notice because a grin creeps across his face. You watch as he stands and walks to the dresser, where he picks up a small silver key. The Sheriff steps behind you, uncuffing your hands. Your wrists are sore, but you don’t mind.

“You did such a good job, angel,” he says, helping you stand up. Your legs are wobbly, so he holds you against his side to support you. “Lemme show you how much I ‘preciate your hard work.” The Sheriff walks you over to the bed and helps you lay down on your back. Your arms reach out to your sides, feeling the soft fabric of the sheets below you. Your whole body is so sensitive. Your skin tingles from all the sensations.

Your legs hang off the side of the bed, and you watch as the Sheriff kneels down between your parted thighs, placing your legs over his shoulders. He is face to face to your pussy, breath fanning over the sensitive skin. You choke back a moan, unprepared for what is to come.

Lee presses sweet kisses to your inner thighs before letting his tongue wander to your clit. He groans against your pussy, sending vibrations through your whole body. You can’t hold back the moan that practically erupts from you this time.

“Oh my god,” you whine, legs wrapping around the Sheriff’s head. His strong hands grip the tops of your thighs, holding you in place while he licks and sucks your pussy.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he whispers, kissing your legs again. “Can’t ever get enough.” Lee’s talented tongue laps you up and brings you right to your peak. Goosebumps surface on your skin, and you shiver as he grips your thighs tighter.

“Please, Sheriff,” you beg wantonly, needing to come just one more time, though you doubt you’ll ever quench your newfound thirst for the incredible man on his knees in front of you.

“Come for me, angel, come on.” The Sheriff circles your clit with his tongue and sucks it between his teeth, grazing your sensitive spot ever so slightly. It sends you over the edge into the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had. Your vision goes white, and your whole body curls in on itself. Lee smiles against your pussy and sweetly kisses your clit.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper, catching your breath. The Sheriff situates himself on the bed and helps you sit between his legs. You curl against his broad shoulders, his belly providing the perfect cushion for you. He holds you close and rubs your back as you come down from the post-orgasm high you’d been floating in.

“How do you feel?” Lee asks, letting his fingers drift over your skin.

“Like I need to do this more often.”

please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in my future works! must be 18+

taglist

@peaches1958 @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3 @meetmeatyourworst @harrysthiccthighss @goldylions @late-to-the-party-81 @luxeavenger @cloudyfeel @searchf0rtheskyline

graphics by: @/maysdigitalarts + @/firefly-graphics

#jane’s writing #layin’ down the law #lee bodecker x f!reader #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x yn #lee bodecker fanfic #lee bodecker smut. #lee bodecker fanfiction #lady marmalade’s tea house #thot neighborhood #lee bodecker au #the devil all the time fanfic #the devil all the time lee #sheriff lee bodecker #lee bodecker #the devil all the time #the devil all the time fic #sheriff

[no-context-nonsense]

If you saw us miss a week, no you didn’t.

#fanfic #fanfiction #nonsense #making shit up #saturdaycryingclub #stupid boys #do stupid things #steddie #Beetlesandstars giving us gifts #keeping us fed #lexirosewrites #bunny and the wolf #we love feral Eddie #a champagne bottle is a lot #like a lot a lot #Joe keery can do no wrong #marmalade #who knew i was so into hockey #I did #we all knew I’d immediately be obsessed #it’s sweaty boys beating each other up #what’s not to love #hockey au #wolfstar #starchaser #when you feel like shit send your bestie a voice note #i don’t make the rules

[vinsmokc-sanji]

Please send me any of these and:

Sanji (OPLA);

Zoro (OPLA);

Ace (OP);

Eddie (Stranger Things);

Steve (Stranger Things);

Baron (Marmalade);

Gator (Fargo).

I'd love to write any of those as blurbs!

#stranger things #one piece #eddie munson #fanfic #sanji #steve harrington #sanji fanfic #zoro fanfic #ace fanfic #portgas d. ace fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #marmalade baron fanfic #gator tillman fanfic #gator x reader #gator tillman #gator fargo #stranger things fanfic

[breakablebarnes]

I Say, You Do

pairing: steve kemp x female!reader

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, somewhat dark (I mean it is Steve Kemp), somewhat dubcon, degradation kink, praise kink, impact play, sadism/masochism, restraints, dom/sub aspects, spitting, use of vibrator, orgasm denial, edging, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), oral (male receiving), face fucking, nipple play

summary: AU: Lady Marmalade owns a house of fabulous repute and employs only the finest specimens for her clients. After a hard week at work, the Lady knows exactly what you need.

a/n: Thank you to Dani, @yarnforbrains​, for organizing this! I know I waited until the last minute, but I did enjoy this challenge!! Writing Steve is fun hehe. Enjoy this absolute filth. 

➵ MASTERLIST | KO-FI | REQUESTS | LIBRARY

The work week had laid heavily on you this time. Just an enormous feeling of pressure on your shoulders to do everything made you want to do nothing at all. Think about nothing at all.

So, that’s when your friend Wanda told you about a place that she heard about that could help you do just that.

You walked in the door, a bell chiming as you walked in. You walked up to the desk and suddenly there she was – Lady Marmalade herself.

“Hey sugar,” She said sweetly, approaching the desk. “What can I do for you?”

You had known exactly what you were going to say when walking in, but suddenly all the words left your brain. It frustrated you that you couldn’t even think. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Hard week?” She posed, raising an eyebrow.

You huffed out. “I just feel all this pressure with work. I just don’t want to think for a while.”

She smirked. “I may have just the thing for you, sugar.” You perked up and she began to head down the hallway. “Follow me.”

You followed behind her, seeing many different doors stretched down the hall, all of them with different designs. She stopped at the last one in that hall. The door was different than the others in that it wasn’t a complete door. It was a brown wood, but it almost looked like a jail door with bars. The Lady swiped a card and door opened. She stepped inside and you followed. There was a beautiful ocean mural on the wall comprised of oranges, blues, and pinks. There was a mattress in the middle of the room with no bed frame. On the wall there were a set of chains with restraints. You felt yourself clench at the sight. You looked over to the Lady. How did she know exactly what you needed? To be out of control for a change.

She smirked at you knowingly. “Well, have a seat,” She said ushering to the mattress. “Dr. Kemp likes his victims, I mean patinets, to be in position when he arrives.”

You raised your eyebrows, but took a seat on the bouncy mattress, your back to the wall. The Lady pulled your hands above your head and secured them in the restraints. She looked down to you and whispered, “Have fun,” with a wink. She left; the door closing shut behind her.

You felt a little exposed. You still had your clothes on, but you knew anyone could see in the door that came by, but then again, maybe that was why it was at the end of the hall. You also felt exposed in the sense that you were, you know, restrained. You looked up to the wall where your hands were bound together, a chain linked from the cuffs to the wall. You pulled at the chains to test their strength and your hands barely moved.

You looked away and finally looked up at the ceiling again before searching around the room again, finding nothing interesting to look at. There was nothing else in the room besides the mattress and a small cabinet. You began to wriggle around in anticipation.

“Well,” a voice spoke up from behind the doors, startling you. You looked over to see a man in the shadows. He tilts his head. “What do I have here?”

He slides the card, the door opens, he steps into the light and you can finally see him. He has dark, fluffy hair and a jawline for days. He smirks at you and you feel the butterflies in your stomach. His eyes are such a piercing blue that you can see them from across the room.

You open your mouth to speak, but he holds up a finger, and you close your mouth again.

He smirks and comes closer, squatting down next to the mattress and tilting his head to look at you. He’s even prettier up close.

“As pretty as you look with your mouth open, keep it closed. For now.” He said, patting your cheek. “That was a rhetorical question.”

You blinked and his smirk grew. “Well, you listen well. Let’s see if that continues.” His face suddenly shifted. It went from his charming and pleasant smirk, to a very serious almost eerie look in his eyes. He grabbed your face roughly, turning your head to look at him dead on and squeezing your cheeks between his fingers. “Alright, this is how this is gonna work, princess. I say, you do. Understand?” 

You nod. “Good. So, you are going to keep that pretty mouth shut unless I say otherwise. I don’t want to hear a peep from you. If I do, there will be consequences. Understand, princess?”

You nod again, gulping as you do.

“Now,” He said, his charming smirk returning. “Are you going to be good? Speak.”

“Yes,” You squeak out, your voice hoarse suddenly. “I’ll be good.”

“Good girl,” He smirked, and pushed your face away.

He stood and began to circle the mattress, looking down at you much like a lion would his prey. You began to wriggle again, pushing your thighs together at his piercing stare.

He chuckled. “Look at you,” He said. “What a whore. You’re already wet and I haven’t done a damn thing.”

How did he know?

He squatted down again, looking you in the eyes. “Open your mouth.” You did as he said without a thought. As soon as you did, he spit directly in your mouth. It shocked you a little, but you could also immediately feel yourself soak your panties. “Close your mouth and swallow.”

You closed your mouth and did as he said, making him chuckle. He grabbed your face, squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger again. “Such a good, obedient, little slut. I can’t wait to see how much I can push you.”

He pushed your face away again and stood up. He took off his brown button up shirt, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt and jeans. He opened a draw in the cabinet and pulled something out that you couldn’t see, setting it down still out of sight. He came over to you, holding scissors. In one fell swoop, he cut open the front of your shirt, making your mouth open in shock. Before you could even realize, he cut open your shorts as well, leaving you in nothing but your underwear as you had chosen not to wear a bra today. He discarded of the ruined material, placing the scissors on the cabinet with the other items that he had gotten out that you still hadn’t seen. He came back over to the end of the mattress right at your feet, holding his hands behind his back.

He admired you for a moment and once again you pressed your thighs together, just hoping for a little bit of friction. You began to ache with want and your core felt cold due to your panties being completely soaked through and the cool air hitting them. He kicked your legs apart with his shoe. “Feet stay there. Bend your legs.”

You did as he said. He crouched down and became face first with your mound. He leaned in and took a deep breath. He stayed there a minute and you finally realized he was smelling you. You had the urge to close your legs, but you didn’t, fearing the consequences. He finally reached up and yanked your panties down your legs before discarding them to the side with the other remnants of your clothes. He came back and immediately dived his tongue into your pussy. You screamed out in surprise, pulling on the chains above you. He pulled away and slapped your thigh definitely hard enough to leave a mark, making you scream out again.

He crawled up your body, coming face to face with you. “What did I say? Speak.”

You head felt like you were floating as you tried to form words. When you didn’t, he smacked you right across the face, leaving your mouth hanging open at the sting.

“I said, speak.” He growled.

“You said keep my mouth shut unless you said otherwise.” You choked out, tears stinging your eyes.

“Right. Now, why didn’t you listen?”

“I…” You started but earned another hit to the face.

“Do you not know what a rhetorical question is, you dumb slut? Did I say speak?” He yelled in your face.

You silently shook your head no as tears fell down your cheeks. “Look at you. Pathetic. Can’t take a punishment, huh, princess?” He said, in a mock-sweet voice. “Too fucking bad.”

He pushed off of you and got up grabbing something from the cabinet. He pressed a button, and you heard a soft hum fill the air. It was a vibrator.

He came over to you and laid by your side, hovering over you. Without much thought, he placed the wand directly to your clit. You breathed in quickly but didn’t scream out this time. He chuckled, “See, we can learn from our mistakes.”

He pressed the plus button, making the vibrations go to a higher setting. You tensed, holding on the chains above the cuffs around your hands. You could feel yourself holding your breath. He pressed the plus again and you were right there. You knew you were going to cum.

And he took it away.

ou couldn’t help the groan that you let out in frustration. He raised an eyebrow at you before reaching over and pinching your nipple. “Maybe we can’t learn from our mistakes. Did you think I was gonna let you cum, princess? After being such a bad girl?”

He pinched your other nipple and you let out a curse which only made him pinch harder. You gritted your teeth to not let out another sound. He removed his hand from your nipple and found your wet folds, and your eyes went wide as he plunged a finger into your hole.

“Not a fucking sound.” He warned. You nodded.

He began pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. He added a second finger and brushed against that sweet spot inside you, making you bit down on your lip enough to draw blood.

“Is the doctor making you feel good, princess? Speak.”

“Yes, doctor.” You moaned out in relief that you could let a noise out, even if it was just one.

You could feel his bulge against your hip twitch as you called him doctor. He continued pumping in and out of you, hitting that spot every time now that he had found it. He added a third finger and began to really stretch you out and it felt delicious. You bit down on your lip again, tasting the metallic taste of your blood.

He brought the vibrator back out, attaching it to your clit and you almost let out another scream, but held back. “Good girl, princess.” He hummed in your ear and that sentence alone almost made you cum.

You were so close. Right on the edge.

And you let out a moan.

He froze. You could almost feel the anger radiating off this man. He pulled out of you and turned off the vibrator, throwing it to the side. He climbed on top of you and spit in your face, grabbing your cheeks again. “Just when I thought we were getting somewhere, princess. You go and do that. What do I have to do to keep you quiet, huh? Stuff my cock down your throat?”

You gulped and you couldn’t help the way your mouth salivated at the thought of him inside you in any form.

He smirked. “That’s exactly what I’m gonna fucking do.”

He smacked your face lightly before getting up and removing his clothes. Your eyes widened at his length. You didn’t know if you could take it all.

Like he read your mind, he said. “Oh, you’ll take it all, sweetheart. And you’ll fucking thank me for it.”

He hovered over you, his cock inches from your mouth. “Open wide, princess. I’m gonna fuck your face. And you? Don’t you dare fucking cum.” He stopped and you looked up to his face, hovering way above you as your mouth hung open.

You furrowed your eyebrows as he turned away from you, getting off you completely. He grabbed the vibrator and something else you couldn’t see. Then you hear the unmistakable sound of duct tape. He placed the idle vibrator right against your clit and then taped the handle around your leg. He turned it on, all the way up. You gritted your teeth as to not make a sound. He positioned himself over you again and you opened your mouth and he slid right in, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged around him, but he didn’t stop.

He held himself above you and began to pump in and out of your throat, groaning as he did so. Meanwhile, you were trying your damnedest not to cum.

You tried to focus on his assault of your mouth, but that made you wetter.

He was fucking your face at a relentless pace now and you were hoping he would cum any second now so this could be over. You could feel the sweat trickling down your face and back and you dared not to cum. You didn’t want to see the repercussions. 

His pace quickened and he began to stutter his hips. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum, princess.” He stopped suddenly and pulled out completely. “Beg me to let you come with me. Speak.”

“Oh my god, doctor, please let me come. I’ve never needed something so much in my life, please.” You begged, your voice hoarse and shaking as the vibrator kept up its brutal assault on your clit.

“Ehh,” He shrugged, lining up his cock with your mouth again as you opened on instinct waiting for him. He smirked down at your obedient form. “Maybe.” 

He slammed back down your throat, earning a gag from you.

He very quickly was on the precipice of coming again, you could tell by the way his brow was furrowed and his eyes were tightly shut.

“I’m coming, sweetheart. Come with me.”

 You could have passed out. He was letting you come.

As he spilled white hot ropes of cum into the back of your throat, you felt yourself finally let go. You really thought you were going to pass out. Your vision was spotty and your ears began to ring as you come as hard as you ever had.

He pulled out of your mouth and fell down on the mattress beside you, trying to catch his breath just as you were.

“Well, princess,” He started, sweeter than he had been the whole time, “Did I make you forget?”

“Yes, doctor.”

To be updated when I post, please follow @breakablebarnes-library​ and turn on post notifications.

#the thot neighborhood #lady marmalade challenge #steve kemp #steve kemp smut #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x female reader #steve kemp x reader smut #steve kemp x female reader smut #steve kemp x female!reader #steve kemp x f!reader #steve kemp fic #steve kemp fanfic #steve kemp imagine #steve kemp drabble #steve kemp challenge #fresh #fresh fic #fresh fanfic

[luonnonvalinnat]

Just food for thought

#I have fanfic ideas and I'm trying to tie them in together and figure plotholes out lmao #tbg #the bad guys #dreamworks #mr. snake #mr. wolf #professor marmalade #my art

[gachawolfiebloom]

Here you go my little enthusiasts...

Chapter 1 of my new Bad Guys Fanfic is here! As for the trolls AU, that will be coming out soon. I can't give a specific date since I am still working on the first chapter, but it will either be sometime next week or the week after.

Here's the cover art.

#bad guys #the bad guys #mr piranha #mr snake #mr wolf #mr shark #ms tarantula #diane foxington #marmalade #misty luggins #bad guys fanfiction #bad guys fanfic

[keen-li]

Just got done with the first draft of MARMALADE. Just gotta proof read now.😊

#marmalade #fanfic #jungkook #jungkook x reader

[finalgowrl]

⚠️MARMALADE SPOILERS ⚠️

it’s 2am and i rented marmalade and this is everything i had to say about it (so far) on my twitter :)

-okay but “marmalade’s” robbery outfit would be a great costume for halloween.

-in all seriousness, i liked it a lot! kept me entertained the entire time trying to figure out wtf was going on and it made me laugh.

-it made so much sense on why marmalade was acting the way she was. i literally thought she was cartoonish but i just put it off as her being crazy lol

-(camila is fucking stunning. her voice is everything. lips, hair, bodY TEA)

-aldis-A FINE MAN woah

-the ending-THE ENDING 😭

-i said it before and i’m saying it again: the haircut he had at the end of the movie is the best style he has ever had his hair. like the steve cut can’t compare.

#finalgowrl post 🎧 #his accent 🥺 #marmalade #marmalade trailer #marmalade 2024 #joe keery #camila morrone #aldis hodge #djo #baron #moonpie #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #baron x reader #baron fanfics #baron x you

[luna234i]

This is how Marmalade kill his friends (oc)

Credit:Azuka

#professor marmalade #the bad guys #fanfic aus #comics

[marwhoa]

Never be scared to be cringe

Look at me, I write tmnt fanfiction on an account that my college friends follow

#<3.marmalade #also my sex sociology teacher knows I write fanfic too

[ryan-the-thing]

Shleepy Hampter

He just woke up

Explode him before he makes any evil plans

#the bad guys 2022 #the bad guys #the bad guys dreamworks #the bad guys fanart #professor marmalade #Accidental Outlaws fanfic