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#steve fanfic
justmeinadaze · 1 month
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Don't Be So Hard (Steddie X Plus Size You)
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"Don't be so hard on yourself The name of the game is humiliation, And thanks for your admiration. I never thought I'd say this: The way that we play has its confrontation, And guilt by association."
A/N: New version of these beings for me to try out. Thank you @bimbobaggins69 for the idea by just being amazing <3.
This take place 10 years after events in season 4 so about 1996.
Warnings: Older Dom (30s) Coach Steve Harrington/Older Dom (30s) Professor Eddie Munson & Young (20s) Fem Plus size Sub Student Y/N (whew! That's a mouth full lol), SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading, voyeurism, use of sir, FLUFF, Eddie and Steve have an established relationship. ANGST (because I'm me), reader is plus size and gets name called by the jocks (they call her names like piggy), one of them does assault her (pushes her and yells at her; brief), Steddie saves the day, mentions of reader staring in a play that makes her anxious due to her body.
This whole dynamic is technically angsty (which is why I love it muahaha).
Word Count: 8679
“I fucking hate schools.”, you grumble under your breath as you hit snooze on your alarm for the fifth time that morning. The beginning of your junior year spring semester at Hawkins University started today but the idea of getting out of bed sounded exhausting. In Hawkins, everyone was in everyone else’s business and being the bigger girl some of the jocks felt the need to butt in more than anyone else. 
“Hey Y/N. Did you put on more weight this summer? Those jeans look like they’re about to pop!”
“Should you be eating that, piggy? Maybe try a salad every now and then.”
You thought when you left high school, you wouldn’t have to deal with this crap anymore but unfortunately some of it followed you to college. 
When you finally made it to your first class it was right before it began so you could avoid any unwanted conversation. You weren’t so lucky.
“Heeeeeeey, Y/N.”, football star Martin Click cooed obnoxiously as he leaned towards you from his seat above yours. “I was hoping we’d have some classes together, piggy. I missed you over the summer. You couldn’t bother to dress up for me?”
“Oh, sorry Martin, if I had known we would be sharing a class I would have made myself uglier but unfortunately for me that’s impossible since I’m so fucking sexy. Maybe you can tutor me on how to be a sloppy asshole.”
The breathy laugh that echoed to your ears caught you off guard as you glanced up towards the front of the classroom and met the chocolate eyes of your new Literature & Writing professor. 
“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as red paints your face.
“No, no. No reason to be sorry. I thought it was a good comeback.”, he grinned making you blush even more. “Mr. Click, should I tell Coach Harrington that you’re more focused on ladies attire than my class or are we going to behave this semester?”
Rolling his eyes, Martin leaned back in his chair making the professor smugly smirk as he winked in your direction. 
“As I’m sure ya’ll are aware, I’m professor Munson and if you’re here because of my reputation then I will kindly ask you to leave. I’m not here to talk about my past or my family history.”
You had heard rumors about Eddie Munson and of course knew all about him being on the run back when you were little. You parents never let you leave the house or play outside for fear that the “satanic Hawkins killer” would snatch you up and make you his next victim. As you grew up and read more about what happened, it seemed less to you like he did anything at all and obviously the chief agreed because Mr. Munson was never tried or did any prison time. 
No, you weren’t interested in his past. You were interested in the things he could teach you. After overhearing one of his lectures, you were fascinated with the way he told a story and explained the material. He got so animated to an adorable degree and as a theater major you thought it would be fun to see how he interpreted literature while getting the final English credit you needed. 
When no one moved he smiled and began talking about usual first day things such as the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. After the class had ended and everyone left, you stayed behind and quietly made your way to his desk. 
“Hey, um, I’m sorry if I was rude or—”
“I didn’t think you were rude. If anything, he was and definitely needed to be put in his place.”, he interrupted without looking your way as he sorted through papers in front of him. “You’re Y/N, right?”
“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the plays you were in on campus here. I dragged my friend to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you actually got him to pay attention.”, Mr. Munson smiled as he finally lifted his head to look your way. “You were very good.”
“Oh, um, thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.” He tilts his head at your comment as blush fills your cheeks again. “I just meant I’ve seen some of your lectures before and you’re an amazing storyteller. You excite me, I mean you make me want to pay attention to, I mean… ok, let’s pretend I just left right after class and didn’t just embarrass myself.”
Hugging your books to your chest, you power walk out the door as his chuckle fills your ears. 
***
With a break between periods, you hastily headed for the gym after lunch to change and get out on to the track by the field. Contrary to popular belief, you were fairly athletic despite your size and enjoyed letting off steam as you pumped your legs as fast as they could take you.
As your music blared loudly in your ears, the feeling of eyes watching you grabbed your attention towards the bleachers where Coach Harrington was standing with his arms crossed and leaning to the side as Professor Munson balanced his arm on his shoulder, murmuring something to him as their eyes followed you. 
Trying to block them out, you continued to focus on the path in front of you but was blindsided when a football whizzed past your nose almost hitting you.
“Whoa! Sorry, piggy. Have to keep your eyes open around here.”, Martin laughs as you roll your eyes. 
Glancing their way, you noticed both men were standing straighter as if prepared to defend you if needed. You weren’t a weak little girl and for whatever reason you strongly felt like you needed to show them that. As you pick up the football one of the players lifts his hands running towards you as if expecting you to not be able to throw it but at the last minute you throw a perfect spiral to their coach who doesn’t even hesitate as he lifts his hands and catches it seamlessly from the air. 
“Well, shit, gentlemen. Looks like I have a new passer.”
“Oh, no thank you, Coach Harrington. If I ever played a sport it would be with a team that doesn’t suck.”
Again, Mr. Munson snicked through his teeth as the man he was leaning on flashed you a big grin. 
#############
That night you decided to run after hours, thinking you would be alone but were surprised when you saw Coach Harrington on the track. 
“Shit! Sorry, you scared the hell out of me.”, he nervously chuckled. 
“I’M sorry. I thought no one would be out here.”
“Yeah, normally there aren’t.”, he teased raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
As he took off continuing to jog, you pushed your headphones on your head and started your run. After a couple of laps with you in your zone, your feet abruptly slipped out from under you as you tumbled forward onto the gravel.
“Whoa!”, Coach Harrington shouted in concern as he ran to your side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?”
“Ow. Yeah, I just…tripped. Fuck that hurt.”
“Let me see.” Without any hesitation, his hand gripped your leg and looked it over. “Oof, you may have a pretty good bruise there but you should be alright.” Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to you to help you up which you eagerly accepted while he gripped you tightly and led you towards the bleachers. “You must have been deep in thought because you passed me a couple of times and didn’t even turn your head.”
“I did? Yeah, I’m sorry. I just have some things on my mind.”
“No, I know what you mean. Eddie—Professor Munson told me what happened in his class. If any of those guys bother you again, please let me know. I’ll make them run laps or even sit them out of a game if I have to. Nothing scares these kids more than not being able to play.”
You knew of Steve Harrington mostly because of his parents. The Harrington’s were prominent members of the community and very well respected. In your high school there had been pictures of him from his days on the basketball and swim team when he was a student. 
After he graduated, other rumors began to circulate about him spending time with the “freaks of Hawkins” but who cares. Not you especially since you had been labeled a freak since elementary. 
“I, um, I hope you didn’t take offense to what I said. Your team doesn’t suck just…some of your players. I mean, not their playing ability just their personalities. FUCK, why can’t I talk today?”
His smile widens as he laughs from his gut making you don your own smile. 
Coach Harrington’s eyes meet yours for a moment before a controlled laugh escapes his lips.
“What, um, what were you listening to so loud that you didn’t hear me yelling for you to slow down?”
Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman. 
“Just some CD I burned to get me pumped. Right now, it’s playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica. Have you heard that song?”  
Something dark flashes over his face before he awkwardly nods and gets up leaving you alone on the bleachers as you stare after him. 
***
“Are you fucking kidding me?”, you growl as you push on the girl’s locker room door to find it locked. “What is going on with me this semester?”
Glancing around and seeing no one, you brave the boy’s locker room, finding it open, assuming that in his weird state, maybe, Mr. Harrington forgot to lock up. As quickly as you could you showered and began to change into some comfy clothes. 
The sound of something hitting the wall nearby froze you in fear as you gaze scanned the area. 
No one nearby. It could be the janitor cleaning the coach’s office.
Quietly, you threw your things over your shoulder and tiptoed that way with the intention of ducking under the window of the area so you weren’t seen but the muffled sound of moaning had you pausing again. 
“Mmm…Steve…Steven. Wh-What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”
“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”
“Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here, Steve. You saved me.”
Peeking through the window, you saw their forehead’s pressed together as Eddie gently caressed his cheek with his thumbs. A small sigh left your lips when they began to kiss each other again. With a bit of needy force, Steve turned him around and pulled his back flush to his chest. Gently nibbling on his neck, he reached around and unbuckled Eddie’s pants, pushing them down to free his cock that he promptly began stroking. 
Fuck me he’s big. 
You practically drooled at the sight, licking your lips as your palm absently glided under your shirt to rub your tummy.
With his free hand, Steve sloppily yanked down his sweats making you moan as you watched him spit in his palm and rub it between Eddie’s cheeks before gradually guiding himself into his entrance. 
“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”
Clinging to each other tightly, Steve thrust his hips at a steady rhythm and you marveled at the sight as your fingers drifted into your own sweatpants and you began circling your clit.
“H-Harder, Steve, please.”
“Please.”, you whisper as you try to keep your eyes open and on them. 
“Like this, honey? Fuck you feel so good, Eddie. I love you.”
Arching his back, your professor craned his neck to kiss the man’s lips as he pumped into him as hard as he could without hurting him. 
“I love you to, baby. Shit, I’m going to cum. Cum with me, Steve.”
Nodding aggressively, he chased their highs until both men grunted and came. While they softly kissed each other your body trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle your moans as the coil snapped. It wasn’t enough as both their heads turned meeting your eyes as you were coming down from cloud 9. 
No one moved as the three of you stared each other. 
Holding up his hands in surrender, Steve pulled out as Eddie straightened up, worry painting both their faces. 
“Y/N…”
Before they could do anything else, you turned and quickly ran out of the locker room.
##############
What the fuck was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have watched them. Two teachers in the MALE locker room while I was touching myself. Shit. I’m going to be expelled for sure. 
Sitting on the stage of your theater class, you focused on the script in front of you as you prepared for an audition your professor recommended. Mrs. Lilah always felt constrained by Hawkins when it came to material but this year she quiet literally said fuck them and decided to do Rocky Horror Picture Show. 
As you read through your lines for Magenta, a clearing throat caught your attention. 
“Hey Eddie!”, your theater teacher beamed as she waved at him and he smiled back before jumping onto the stage to sit beside you. He smelled strongly like cigarettes and a dash of cologne that had your head spinning as you continued to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you. 
“Hey Lilah. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I just need to talk to Y/N here about an assignment real quick.”
“No problem. She does have her audition for Janet in a few minutes and I’m dying to see her interpretation.”
That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way. 
“I’m doing what now?”
“For Janet, honey. I think you’d be perfect. She’s a bit timid at first but comes out of her shell.”
“But…but…she’s in a bra for a good chunk of the play.”
“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”
“Hm, yeah, Y/N, does people seeing your body in the shadows in an intimate way make you uncomfortable?”, Eddie murmured low enough so only you could hear. 
“Let’s just do the audition and if you prove me right, we can talk about the wardrobe, ok?”
Flashing her a timid smile, you turn to give your attention to your professor. 
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Skipping my class this morning? Oh, you mean when you watched me and my boyfriend have sex in the boy’s locker room?”
“The girl’s one was locked and I needed to shower—”
“That explains why you were in the locker room but not why you were there watching. Are you going to run and tell all your little friends about how you saw the murderous freak fucking the pretty, rich football coach?”
“What? No. I would never—”
“Mhmm. Look how much will it take to keep your mouth shut?”
“Nothing. I don’t—”
“Please, Y/N! Everyone has a price and Steve doesn’t deserve to lose all he’s worked hard for. So, tell me—”
“Will you let me talk!?” Glancing around to make sure no one heard your outburst; you lower your voice as you continue. “I don’t want anything or any money. I won’t tell anyone. I genuinely don’t care about your private lives. I’m really sorry I watched. I shouldn’t have…I just…”
Your professor’s eyes focused intently on you as he waited for you to continue. 
“I was attracted. The way you two kiss and the way he holds you…no one’s ever been that way with me…” When your eyes dared to finally meet his, you expected anger but those gorgeous chocolate irises displayed a softness you appreciated. “I swear, Mr. Munson, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”
Nodding, he jumped down from the stage before turning to face you again. 
“I think under the circumstances you can call me Eddie. Not in class but… I also think you should play Janet. You’re a very beautiful young lady. Don’t let any of these superficial idiots take away that lead role from you just because of how you look.”
#############
A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around. 
Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew. 
As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else. 
Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table. 
“Is that my favorite piggy?”
You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away. 
“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss. 
“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face. 
“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”
As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car. 
“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”
“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.” 
Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.
Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level. 
“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders. 
“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy. 
“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”
“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”
“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”
The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before. 
“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”
“WHAT?!”
Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both. 
“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things. 
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”
“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”
Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard. 
***
When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.
“You ok, babe?”
His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway. 
When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”
“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”
His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.
Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days. 
Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played. 
“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”
What could he have meant by that…
Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life. 
There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master. 
They must have been in two different worlds in high school. 
What must have happened to bring them together?
“Steven, you need to calm down.”
The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall. 
“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”
“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”
“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”
“Why then?”
“She…she seems like a nice girl.”
“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”
“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”
“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”
“Like that’s ever stopped you.”
“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”
“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”
“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”
Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.
“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch. 
“I didn’t know you could sew.”
“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”
“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter. 
“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”
They both glance at each other as you blush. 
“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”
“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you. 
“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”
“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”
Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look. 
“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”
“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”
“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”
“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material. 
Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them. 
It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you. 
“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”
All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes. 
“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”
Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him. 
“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”
As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control. 
“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”
“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.
“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.
“Edward…”
“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”
“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”
“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”
“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”
The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip. 
“He said show me respect.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”
You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face. 
“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”
“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together. 
“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”
“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”
He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that… 
Or…
“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”
“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder. 
“Go ahead, Y/N.”
As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.
You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body. 
“Did you see our cocks?”
“Yes.”
Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”
Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans. 
“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”
“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”
Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately. 
“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”
He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you. 
“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”
“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”
“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”
While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks. 
“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”
“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions. 
“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.
You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?
“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”
“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”
As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.
“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”
“Our?”
Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them. 
“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest. 
The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it. 
“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “
“Good. Good girl.”
His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.
“Can I kiss you?”
“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”
“Yes and no.”
“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs. 
“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”
The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward. 
“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”
“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm. 
“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”
Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm. 
“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”
You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core. 
“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.
As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you. 
“What did I say? How do you answer us?”
“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”
Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them. 
“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”
“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”
“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”
“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”
Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.
“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass. 
“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”
Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand. 
“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”
“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.” 
At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. 
“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”
Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit. 
“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt. 
“Watch your mouth, little girl.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”
Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again. 
“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”
Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him. 
“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”
Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room. 
Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan. 
“Sensitive. I like that.”
Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met. 
“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”
“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.
“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled. 
“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”
“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”
“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”
Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them. 
“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”
“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”
They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his. 
“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”
“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”
Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress. 
“We know. You’re sorry.”
Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.
“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”
“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.
“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”
“What do you want, Ed?”
“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”
Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.
“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”
Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair. 
Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly. 
Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest. 
“I’m…I’m…please…”
Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own. 
“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him. 
“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”
His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps. 
“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”
“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.
Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed. 
“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”
“Green.”
His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows. 
“Green, what?”
“Green, SIR!”
You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward. 
“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”
“Green, Mr. Harrington.”
As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half. 
“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you. 
Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together. 
“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips. 
“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”
The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours. 
“Still green, babe?”
“Yeeeees, sir.”
“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.
“Oh my god!”
With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest. 
“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”
“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”
“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”
“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”
“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”
As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit. 
You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came. 
“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you. 
You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were. 
“For me?”
“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you. 
Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs. 
“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go. 
Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you. 
“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”
As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.
“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”
Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom. 
“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”
Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind. 
“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”
Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back. 
“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped. 
“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”
Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers. 
“I guess we can sleep in the—”
“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts. 
“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”
At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.
“You’re worried.”
“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”
“That sounds delicious.”
“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”
“10 years. Not much.”
“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”
“So do you, honey.”
“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”
“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”
“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”
Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you. 
##############
@corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon
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crappymixtape · 2 months
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because of you • part one
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PART TWO • PART THREE • PART FOUR // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+  | ( 2.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )
B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T O N E 🎶 good girls ( john carpenter remix ), chvrches
“Why is she even here?”
“Steve!”
A loud smack cut the air in two as Robin slapped a hand against Steve’s shoulder, rendering the rest of group there in Max’s trailer silent.
Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, cheeks burning under his gaze, lips twisted into a scowl and trying hard to hold back the daggers you wanted so badly to throw at him.
“She doesn’t know what the hell we’re up against! How’s she supposed to–“
“Steve, none of us knew either, cut her a break.”
“Cut her a break and then what? We all get eaten by a fucking melted people monster?”
“That’s not fair–“
“It’s fine! It’s fine, Nancy,” you cut the girl off, standing quickly from your spot on the couch.
They’d been talking like this since you showed up. Like you weren’t right there in the room with them and honestly you kind of wished you weren’t anymore.
“I need some air,” you grumbled before giving Steve a pointed glare and shouldering open the front door.
The air outside was crisp as you sat down on the front stoop. Not a cloud in the sky and sunlight washing everything in soft golden light, but it all still felt so dark. Like it was harboring thick shadows. Long, spindly, and pitch black. Waiting to wrap their twisted fingers around you.
Waiting to dig into you and squeeze tight.
Waiting to lift you twenty feet into the air and snap your bones like twigs.
Waiting to leave you for dead.
And here was Steve fucking Harrington asking what right you had to be there. Asking what purpose were you gonna serve amongst this “holier than thou” joke of an army. Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie had already gotten their asses handed to them by what they’d called demobats, Steve arguably needing serious medical attention, and they wanted to go back? It took everything you had to not leave right there on the spot.
Hell, maybe you should, you thought for a minute. You didn’t owe them anything, especially Steve, but you did owe it to your best friend. The one who basically had a hit out on him. The one who wouldn’t hurt a goddamn fly, but all of Hawkins had already decided he was guilty and you weren't about to leave him.
Eddie.
❝ SO SAVE YOUR BREATH, GIVE A LITTLE OF WHAT YOU HAVE LEFT – DO THEY KNOW SOMETHING I DON’T? ❞
You met him two years ago under the bleachers at the Homecoming football game. It seemed like the perfect place to smoke the joint you’d messily rolled in the car right before you’d come into the stadium and apparently you’d been right, but someone else had already laid claim to it...
“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but this is kind of my spot.”
He’d been all black leather and denim. Dark curls and clove. Silver rings and chains and heavy boots and maybe you should’ve been more intimidated, but the smile lines at the corners of his mouth gave him away.
“Don’t see a sign anywhere,” you’d shot back, no hesitation. Looked over at him all skeptics and attitude and took a long drag from your joint. Blew the smoke off in his direction and it made him grin like an idiot.
“Been sellin’ weed down here for like…the last three years so–actually, yeah. What the fuck, man. Someone owes me a sign.”
...And that was it, you were a goner. Laughing mid-toke and coughing so hard you cried and it made him feel so bad he gave you a baggy for free. Eddie "the freak" Munson and you – best friends.
Skipped all the stupid dances and football games with you. Paraded around the lunch room like an idiot with you. Threw fries back at the jocks for you when they called you a loser and sat on the floor in the bathroom with you when you cried.
So fuck “King Steve” Harrington.
You had every right to be there, probably even more than he did and you were gonna tell him to his face, but—
“Can I sit?”
The sudden sound of someone else made you jump.
“Jesus, Eddie.”
“Sorry,” he chuckled and sat down next to you. Gave you a sidelong glance and a small lopsided smile. “He’s really not so bad–”
“You’re joking. Right? Tell me you’re joking.”
The boy hummed, dropped his gaze down to the rings wrapped around his fingers and twisted the one on his thumb.
“He doesn’t want me here. None of them do,” you grumbled, frustration fed further by his non-answer and it pulled his eyes back up to you.
“Hey now, that’s not true–”
“Yes it is! Even Nancy looks at me like a kicked puppy.”
That pulled a laugh from him. Made him scoot closer to you and bump his shoulder into yours. “Listen, sweetheart,” the nickname made you soften, but you tried to keep your scowl in place, “We’re all in over our fuckin’ heads, hm? And Stevie boy…he’s seen some shit. He’s just trying to–”
“Just trying to what? Be a complete dickhead about it? Mission accomplished.”
Eddie sighed and roughed a hand over his face. Rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. He knew what you felt because he’d felt it too. Knew what it was like to get laughed at and mocked in the lunch room. Knew how it was supposed to be between him and the other boy. Hell, he nearly cut Harrington’s face off with a broken bottle a few days ago, but one thing was clear.
Change was possible and Steve Harrington was proof, he just wasn’t great at showing it.
“Alright. He could be less of a dick,” he conceded, propping his chin in his hand and looking at you with his big brown eyes. How could you be mad at that?
You mumbled under your breath about that not being the only thing, but fine, okay, only for you, Eds.
Reaching over he flicked at your fingers and looked at you from under his curls with a stern pinch between his brows. “He’s helping me, sweetheart. They all are. Shit, without them I’d probably be in jail already. Or in Carver’s trunk,” he tried a laugh, but it fell short at the end with the weight of his words and it made you grab at his hand and squeeze it.
“Shut up,” you chided softly, no heat behind it. The anger that had been swelling in your chest all but extinguished.
Silence settled between the two of you then, heavy and tinged at the edges with worry. With everything that was at risk and it started to gnaw at the pit of your stomach. What if you couldn’t fix it? And even if you could, this Vecna asshole was about to end the world anyway so what the hell did it matter?
How were a bunch of kids going to do anything about it?
“Ahem,” the door knocked into your back and jolted you back to earth. Pulled a gasp from you and when you looked up over your shoulder you felt your anger return ten fold. “We’re leaving, geniuses,” Steve announced, pushing at you with the door.
“Least you know you’re an idiot,” you mumbled under your breath, standing up from your spot to glare at him at eye level.
“Real cute,” Steve shouldered past you on the stoop, took the last two steps in one go and turned to face you both as he landed on the grass. “For you, Munson,” he said, throwing a mask at Eddie, “Courtesy of Mayfield.”
“What’s that for?” you couldn’t help asking as Max appeared at your side and pointed so casually – too casually – at the mask.
“Gonna steal a Winnebago. Get that on, dingus. Let’s go.”
“Nice,” Eddie grinned up at the red-headed girl and yanked the mask on over his head, “Thanks, Red.”
“Let’s go,” Steve urged, waving his hands at everyone to get out of the house and you felt your heart racing.
“Steal a Winnebago? Eddie. Fuck that–”
“Honey, I’m already a wanted man–” Eddie cut you off and readjusted the ridiculous looking mask a bit. “–c’mon,” he said, tugging at your belt loop to get with it.
“I–that doesn’t mean you can just steal–”
“We’re way past that,” Dustin chimed in, shoving past you just like everyone else, “Besides, if the world’s gonna end anyway, what’s it matter?”
Shit. The kid had a point. It was probably fine. It was just a trailer. Maybe you could give it back afterward? You needed it more than they did. Right?
“Dammit,” you grumbled under your breath, now the only one still standing around. “Wait for me!”
❝ THEY TELL ME I’M HELL-BENT ON REVENGE, I CUT MY TEETH ON WEAKER MEN, I WON’T APOLOGIZE AGAIN ❞
The first time you ran into Steve Harrington was sophomore year. In the hallway before Click’s class. You were cramming everything into your bag, but struggling with your history book when you heard it coming.
Tommy Hagan’s stupid laugh.
Your stomach sank, eyes glued on your things and trying to ignore it. He was in your science class the year before along with his ditzy girlfriend Carol and they always made sure to get a spot in the back just to make out.
“Need some help?”
When you finally looked up at him he’d stopped right in front of you, the grin on his lips sharklike as Carol smirked out from under his arm. Another boy you didn’t know was standing just behind them wearing a stupid member’s only jacket, half unzipped, and had hair that sat perfectly in place. Too perfect.
“That looks heavy, hm?” Tommy said grabbing your book, voice all saccharine sweet and sharp around the edges. Flipping through the pages he pulled a face, clicked his tongue and weighed it in his hand, then made a show of dumping it on the floor. “Whoops. Sorry!” he half-laughed and your cheeks burned.
“Bite me, Hagan,” you snapped back, bending down to grab your book, and it only made his grin grow wider.
“Ooo. She’s fiesty today, Stevie. I like it.”
And then he chimed in. Stevie. The had-to-be-douchebag that everyone called 'King Steve.'
“Probably on her period,” he said scoffing a laugh, all confidence and bravado and the look on his face was so smug. Thought he was so clever and funny and when you finally turned around it was to take the two steps up to him in one.
“Really? My period? So original.”
It made him swallow hard. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he blinked back the flicker of surprise glinting in his eyes. He took a quick glance at Tommy like he didn’t want to disappoint him and then hardened his expression. Crowded down over you and nodded.
“Explains you being such a bitch.”
And it took the air from your lungs. Stuck in your sides sharp like a knife and you felt your throat tighten as Tommy and Carol snickered, but you wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. Not here.
“Yeah. Bet you wish you had an excuse for being such an asshole,” you cut at him and it pulled an Oh shit! out of Tommy as he doubled over laughing, Steve’s mouth dropped open in shock.
Your feet couldn’t carry you away fast enough as you shoved your book in your bag and turned to leave, but you refused to run. Refused to let them see weakness, and as Tommy yelled down the hallway after you about tampons you raised a middle finger high in the air to punctuate just how much you hated them all.
Eddie met you in the bathroom after that, the one nobody used on the other side of school, and you told him everything. He let you have the joint he had tucked behind his ear for emergencies, listened to you and told you they weren’t worth it. Especially not Steve. Because even though Tommy started it, Steve was the one who dug in. Could have left it alone but didn’t and that was what really got you.
How obvious it was he knew how shitty they were being, but went along with it anyway because he had to maintain his status. Had to uphold how ‘cool’ he was and keep the line in the sand drawn between him and ‘the freaks’ like you.
So he wouldn’t get a second chance.
And he wasn’t worth your time.
Not then and sure as hell not now.
[ NOTE: THIS IS PART ONE OF A THREE PART SERIES, PART TWO AND THREE TO COME SOON ]
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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Busybody
summary: when Steve notices your anxiety spiraling out of control, he finds his own way to help
cw: anxiety
Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
You’d woken up with some busybody in your chest that you can’t get rid of. 
It feels like you’ve had three cups of coffee despite your four hours of sleep. You’d all but jolted awake, pre-panicked about something that you haven’t identified yet. Something you have to be forgetting, or not assigning enough importance to, surely. And the way you figure it, if your body’s going to freak out at you about being idle, you may as well appease it and hop to. 
By the time Steve cracks an eyelid, you’re thinking about what to make for lunch. Heart never having left your throat, you’ve cleaned the kitchen, baked a blackberry cobbler, tried to read a few pages of your book before giving up for fidgetiness, reorganized your portion of the bathroom cabinet, and begun a grocery list for the week. 
“Morning,” he yawns, leaning against the counter. He’s looking endearingly rumpled, a faint red line on his face from a crease in his pillowcase and his hair pressed flat on the one side. You smile at him as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Smells like fire in here.” 
“Morning! I made a cobbler,” you explain, not mentioning the burnt first attempt that’s smelled up his kitchen despite you opening all the windows. “Do you want some bacon, eggs, and toast for breakfast?”
Steve blinks, eyebrows rising slightly. “Uh, sure. You gonna make me some?” 
“Mhm.” You’re already taking the eggs out of the fridge. “Scrambled?” 
“Yeah. Thanks, babe.” 
“No problem.” You grin, happy to be of use as you whisk his eggs with a fork, turning on two burners of the stove to preheat as you do. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good,” he yawns. “Well, pretty good. Woke up a couple times this morning, but you were already gone. Been up for a while?” 
“Yeah, couldn’t sleep.” 
Steve nods, frowning. “Sorry, honey. You didn’t get much chance to sleep the night before, either, right?” 
You hum, bacon sizzling when it hits the pan. You put the toast down in the toaster, hoping you’ve timed it right so it’ll still be warm when everything else is done. “Oh, do you want orange juice?” 
“Sure, but I can grab it.” He moves for the cabinet, but you nudge in front of him, too restless to stop moving while everything heats on the stove. 
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” You shoot him a smile as you grab a cup. Steve returns it, but muddled.
“So between last night and the one before, how many hours have you gotten?” 
You shrug. “Not sure.” Nine, give or take. “But I don’t feel tired.” 
“Well, that’s good,” he says slowly, watching as you fill the cup with orange juice before hustling back to the stove, flitting between tasks at something approaching light speed. 
“Hey, so I was thinking,” you go on, flipping the bacon, “do you want to do some Christmas shopping today? I mean, I know you said you’re not thinking about it yet, but it can’t hurt to get a jump on things.” 
Steve yawns again, stretching his back. “Yeah, that sounds okay. Not sure I’d know what to get anyone.” 
You nod a few times. “Maybe you’ll know it when you see it.” Flip the bacon onto a plate, add more pepper to the eggs, put the bacon’s pan in the sink, turn off that burner on the stove—the toaster goes off, and you nearly hit your head on the ceiling. You jump straight up. 
“Oh.” You press a hand to your chest, laughter tripping off your tongue. Your blood thrums excitedly, like it’s finally found the outlet it's been looking for all morning. “God, that scared me.” 
“I could tell,” Steve says, eyebrows at his hairline and smiling faintly. “You doing alright?”
“Yeah, good.” Your heartbeat has become more noticeable all of a sudden, a hollow ache behind your breastbone. “I’m almost done, just a sec.” 
“No rush, honey. Thanks for making me breakfast. It looks great.” 
“Of course, no problem.” You plate up the rest and spin to find Steve already there, his hand the only thing stopping you from nearly flinging the dish into the wall surprisedly. 
“Thank you,” he says earnestly, taking the plate from you and setting it on the counter. He brings his arms around your shoulders, and you wrap yours around him too, an automatic response. Steve sighs, his ribs expanding and contracting with the force of it, and you copy him mockingly. 
“Still tired, baby?” 
“A little,” he admits. “Though I can’t really complain, considering how little sleep you’ve gotten.” 
You make to pull out of the hug, but Steve tightens his grip on you, palm pressing into the midpoint of your upper back. You give in, a willing captive. 
“It’s fine,” you tell him. “I’m sorry you’re tired.” 
Steve hums, taking another big breath. “I’m good.” A pause. “Okay, you can tell me if I’m crazy, but it does smell like something’s burning in here, right?” 
“Burnt,” you admit. “I left a blackberry cobbler in the oven a bit too long. The one in the fridge is a re-do.” 
“Oh, okay.” 
“Sorry.” 
“No, don’t be. I think the smell’s clearing out anyway. Right?”
You sniff experimentally at the air. “Yeah, I think so.” 
“Yeah?” he sniffs too. 
You inhale more fully, only detecting the faint remains of smokiness under the newer scent of bacon grease. 
“I’ve never had blackberry cobbler,” he says, palm beginning to coast slowly between your shoulder blades while his other arm stays firmly around your waist. “What’s it taste like?”
You perk up. “Wanna try some now?”
“No—I wouldn’t want to ruin this breakfast you’ve made me. Describe it to me.” 
It’s an odd request, but nothing you can’t manage for him. You think back, letting your tongue conjure up the memory of the last time you had it. “Well, the blackberries aren’t tangy by the time they’ve been cooked,” you tell him. Steve hums, hand solid and steady on your upper back. “And this recipe is really sweet. The dough is kind of like sugar cookie dough.” 
“Sounds good,” he says appreciatively. “Hey, do you think you can smell it?” 
“From inside the fridge?” You take your head from his shoulder to give Steve an odd look. 
“Sure, just give it a try.” He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. You wrinkle your brow, sniffing tentatively. Steve opens his eyes as if to check you’re doing it, and it’s the worry in his look that gives him away. Your bemusement gives way to fondness as you take a long breath in, filling your lungs and holding the air inside you for a few moments before emptying them. You know what he’s doing, but you’re letting him anyway. 
“Mmm, don’t think I can,” you tell him wryly.  
“No?” Steve’s smile is sheepish, well aware you’re onto him. “Do you think we should find three things you can touch, just for fun?” 
You roll your eyes at him, but inhale again as you hug him tightly. Some of the pain in your chest eases. “Thanks, Stevie.” 
“What for?” he asks, hand resuming its route between your shoulder blades. “Hey listen, I’m all about your Christmas shopping idea, but do you wanna try taking a hot shower first? It might help you relax.” 
“That’s a good idea,” you admit, peeling away from him. He lets you this time, albeit reluctantly. “Your breakfast is going to get cold.”
Steve looks at it as though just remembering it’s there. “Right, thanks. Sit with me while I eat? You could have some of that tea you like.” 
You smile at him, taking a mug and your herbal tea down from the cabinet. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.” 
“You’ve got to stop thanking me, I haven’t done a thing all morning.”
878 notes · View notes
trashmouth-richie · 7 months
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ᴴᴱᴬᵀᴱᴰ
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MODERN! EDDIE x FEM! READER
MODERN! KING! STEVE x FEM READER
CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED
summary: taking the back roads to Indianapolis was Eddie’s idea. the day trip there was Steve’s. But when Wayne’s borrowed truck grinds to a halt on the hottest day in September, the tension and the boys’ tempers aren’t the only thing to rise.
warnings: 18+ smut, alcohol use, drug use, drug mention, kinda sadboy! Eddie, king Steve being king Steve, modern times so things such as google and Snapchat are mentioned. no use of y/n, reader has a nickname, pet name usage.
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The blazing swell of the late September sun had been pelting down on you all day. Stuffed right between your best friend Eddie and his best friend Steve, the humid Midwest air trickled through the open windows in a hazy wave of oven door heat. 
  Between Steve’s hair-brained idea of driving to Indianapolis for tickets to the annual Irvington Halloween Festival and Eddie’s even more ridiculous idea of taking Wayne’s single cab truck, without A/C to make the 4 hour round trip drive— it was no surprise when the clunking metal of the brown ‘86 Chevy spluttered to a grinding stop alongside the highway. 
  100 miles from Hawkins, and nothing but pent up anger boiling at the surface to keep you all company.
  “Oh this is just great Munson,” Steve groaned, swinging open his door and slamming it shut with a metallic bang. A ring of sweat set deep in the Hawkins athletic shirt he was wearing, a heavy hand pushing his hair from his face, “dude, let’s take the truck!” he mocks the long haired metal head, “fuckin’ told you this would happen!” 
  The boys weren’t exactly getting along for the entirety of this trip. Eddie and you had made plans to decorate your apartment tonight for Halloween, a month too early just like you did every year, a night full of themed snacks and cheesy 80s horror movies, the perfect opportunity to finally make his move. 
  But when Steve showed up at the light blue trailer looking for his wingman to help him score at Hargrove’s party— he was less than impressed to find you peeking around Eddie’s outstretched arm holding open the door, a shit-eating grin on your face. Even more pissed when Eddie told him that you would be tagging along. A roll of his eyes and a scoff on his lips as he pounded down the concrete steps. 
  Steve wasn’t your favorite and you definitely weren’t his. He didn’t get the appeal.. Always too loud, too annoying, acting like one of the boys when clearly you were just too insecure to have any friends that were girls. 
  As he stomped through the dead grass he told himself it had nothing to do with the fact that you turned him down freshman year, never mind that it was six years ago and Steve had plenty of girls added to his belt, his snap score and drawer full of stolen panties proved it. Never mind that his bruised ego from that night at a bonfire in the woods pushed him into his King Steve era. He flicked a cigarette into the dirt, muttering under his breath. 
  “Fuck off, Harrington.” Eddie gripes as he shoves the gear shift into neutral, he lowers down to his left and pulls the hood jack towards him. “It’ll be an easy fix.” He says to you, his breath fanning your sweaty cheek as he shoves open the door and jumps out, boots crunching along the gravel as he pushes the hood open. 
  To be fair, Wayne’s truck had about a 50/50 chance of making the trek to Indianapolis, but Eddie had wanted to take it for a few reasons, and not one of them was for a trip down memory lane like he had told Steve. 
  The first reason he wanted to drive the truck opposed to Steve’s BMW, was lol was because it was a stick shift. An opportunity to let him float the gears and have his veins pop out that he knew was a panty wetter for most girls, he had only hoped you fit into that category. 
  The second reason was simple: there was no air conditioning, meaning the small tank top you were wearing would undoubtedly become very hot, and maybe… just maybe you would think of taking it off to cool down. 
  And finally the third reason mimicked the first… you would be sitting bitch in the middle, and with each shift between gears, his arm would be sliding around the soft plains of your luscious thighs. The same thighs that were bare besides a high waisted pair of cut off shorts that had his mind flipping the perv meter to dangerous levels when you hopped off your bike this morning.
  Greeting him with the same smile that cooked his brain to mush for years. 
  Only today— you were starting to flirt back with him, pushing your ass out and bending at the waist just to untie your shoes. Even though in the history of forever, you had never once taken off your worn converse in the Munson trailer. You also were wearing a tank top, accentuating your curves, and Eddie was ready to chew a hole in the makeshift drywall of his trailer when you bounced up the steps to greet him. 
  Usually you hid your body with a baggy shirt and a pair of jeans, your fuck-off attitude is what earned you the right to have Eddie as a friend in the first place. 
  Tonight he was going to push the limits, share a joint with you when the yellow harvest sun dipped low into the indigo trees, kiss your ear with chapped lips while he held you when the movie had a jump scare… he had a plan. And Steve ‘cockblock’ Harrington was being the worst wingman of all time. 
  Sliding out of Eddie’s door, the Navajo rug blanket snags against the cracked leather of the worn seat. The back of your knees were sticky and shiny with sweat, same as your cleavage, not a single stitch of wind to be found along the gravel road— unless you counted Steve’s annoyed huffs.
  Steve bitched and moaned the entire time Eddie was bent over the truck. Investigating what had gone wrong, “aren’t you supposed to be some sorta mechanic?” He grumbled, pushing his hair from his forehead, slotting his hands back into place around the Levi’s on his athletic hips, “swear to God if you make me miss this party, and what Lily has been teasing me with on snap,” his eyes roll into the back of his head at the thought of it, almost letting out a desperate whine.. “I’ll shoot you dead Munson.” 
  “Take it easy Stevie,” Eddie grunted, his jaw tensed and an irritated tone on his lips. His brows turned inward in concentration as he twisted a wrench with strong grease covered hands from behind the hood, “just need’t..  fuck.” Dark smoke started billowing out around him.
  His foul mouth spewed a string of words that barely made any sense, ending his fit with a slam of the hood and his wrench thrown into the ditch. 
  You walk pointed nails across his sweat covered bare back easing his bruised ego with a sickly sweet voice, “it’s okay,” you preen, pushing your chest into his side  when he wiggles from your tickling fingers, his dark eyes swirling into calm and the huff from his breath lost in his throat, “I’ll just call AAA.” 
  AAA did not service in your area, and according to google— the nearest gas station was twenty miles away, a podunk hole in the wall that sold newspapers for a quarter and had 1 star reviews. 
  “Fuck,” Eddie shouted, kicking the tires and hiding the burn of ache traveling up his leg, “the hell are we gonna do now?” 
  “Guess we’re fucking stranded! Great idea Munson, gonna die by the inbred hands of the family from The Hills Have Eyes, but god we just had to take this piece of shit!.” Steve spit as he flopped back into the bed of the truck. 
  Eddie pointed a greased finger into Steve’s chest, “you,” he said prodding with emphasize, “were the one who didn’t want to buy them online, oh God Eddie let’s just get out of Hawkins for the day, make Lily sweat a little bit, make her think I have a bitch in Indy..” 
  “Fuck off,” Steve said shoving Eddie’s hand away, sitting up, casting a stank eye in your direction, voice laced in venom, “at least my dick is getting w—”
  A pack of cards hits Steve right in the chest, hard and knocking the insult from his lungs. 
  It was your idea.
  The slick pack of cards in the glove box with paisley red design on the front was sure to lend some relief and make time pass between now and when Robin would be on the way, driving Steve’s BMW with white knuckles and the radio off no doubt. You had texted her when the boys were arguing, explaining the situation and promising her a small white baggy from Eddie’s stash when you got back. 
  “great idea,” Steve accuses, “s’ gonna take at least 2 hours to get here,” his hands fly in the air in defeat as he yells, “she’s failed her drivers test four fuckin’ times because she drives like my grandma, and that old bag has been dead for years!” 
  “Cool it, you didn’t have any other ideas besides whining Steve,” Eddie defends, fingers wrapped around the neck of a foggy glass bottle filled with amber liquor, he hands it to you in a slick move of his wrist bending and presenting both a blunt and the bottle like a flower blooming in his open palm, “might as well relax a little s Sswhile we wait, make it worth our while.” 
  The liquor went down with a burn, hotter than the pinked shoulders of Eddie’s sunburnt skin. And the small band of splotchy salmon across Steve’s nose. 
  Eddie wrestled a dusty moth bitten blanket from behind the seat, and spread it on the bed of the truck. Before you could push your ass up onto the tailgate, he had wrapped his hands tight along your hips and hoisted you up. A grip so tight he didn’t want to let go, your body feeling just right in his palms, and you were feeling it too. 
  As the liquor bottle got lighter and lighter, the tension eased, Steve was actually laughing at Eddie’s jokes and wasn’t rolling his eyes as much when he had to give you a card or when Eddie praised you for winning again. 
  When Steve threw his cards on the blanket and twisted his arms in a pout at losing another round of Go Fish, it was his idea to play another game. 
  “It’s real easy,” he explained around a puff of smoke as he shuffled the cards back into the pack with his large tanned hands, a single bead of sweat sloping down from his temple and curling around his chin. “You hold up five fingers, and if you’ve never done what one of us says, you keep a finger up, but if you have… you put a finger down and take a sh—- hey dickhead!” 
  Eddie’s lips turn sinister around the glass bottle as rogue drops of Crown dribble from his chin. “Ooops,” he says coyly, eyes bigger than Betty Boop’s and already feeling the combined high and drunken stupor take over his body, “were you needing this?” 
  Dragging a hand down his face, Steve sighs, “yeah it’s kinda the whole point of the game, fucker,” 
  “Hey…” Eddie whines, “be nice Stephanie.” 
  With another ten minutes of arguing about Eddie being a jackass and Steve being crabby in hot weather, you all agree to play the game, the loser has to finish the bottle and strip off an item of clothing. 
  “Okay so let’s start this easy,” Steve explained, “never have I ever been arrested.”
  Eddie puts a finger down and scowls, “good one Harrington,” he adjusts his legs and leans back against the frame of the truck, “just because you got away doesn’t mean your ass wasn’t just as guilty as mine.” 
  “Shoulda ran faster,” 
  The boys make annoyed faces at each other and it’s Eddie’s turn, “never have I ever… nope I’ve done that… never have I.. shit.. okay pass! I gotta think.” 
  “Your turn,” he says, passing you the bottle of almost empty liquor.
  “Okay, Uhh..” you hold the bottle with both hands and gently peel back the label with your fingernail, rubbing the sticky residue between your fingers, you rack your brain for something that would get them both, “never have I ever… peed standing up.” 
  The boys roll their eyes, and each put a finger down, “cheap shot,” Steve whines, and glowers when you stick your tongue out at him. 
  “Oh I got one!” Eddie says rubbing his hands together, splaying a wicked grin on his face, “never have I ever, socked Billy Hargrove in the face.”
  You push Eddie’s shoulder and slap his chest playfully, as he laughs like a hyena, “he deserved it!” 
  Steve chokes on his inhale of the passed blunt, “that was you?!” 
  “Fuck yeah it was!” Eddie says proudly, “that’s why she’s banned from the pool.” 
  Laughing at the now funny memory of Billy slapping your ass as you walked by him in your swimsuit. 
  The way Eddie’s fist felt in your hands as you shoved it down, the rage in his eyes as he was ready to beat the bricks off of Billy. 
  The sick twist of his mustache when it formed a grin knowing that Eddie was on his last strike with Hopper and couldn’t defend you. 
  And the satisfying crack of his molars splintering in his gum line when you knocked your fist into his jaw.
  The pain and swollen fingers were worth it. 
  “And I’d do it again,” you say lowering a finger and taking a swig from the bottle, the burn of the liquor barely there now. 
  Steve laughs, a new sense of almost admiration, as he looks at you with his hair in his face, grabbing the joint from Eddie’s fingers and holding it firm between his teeth, “my turn,” he says clearing his throat, “uh..never have I ever… kissed Eddie.” 
  You and Eddie look at eachother and giggle awkwardly around the cloud of dense smoke, but your fingers never budge. 
  “Seriously?” Steve says incredulously, looking from you to Eddie and back to Eddie and then you again, “can’t lie in this game, dude.” 
  Eddie had come close to kissing you on a few occasions. Once in high school at Steve’s party after winning the beer pong tournament, he looked at you the way someone would a lover, wetting his lips and looking at your mouth, but in the end he gave you a bone crushing hug and twirled you around the room. 
  Another time during the 4th of July fireworks last year when you had both smoked two bowls from the pretty pipe he gifted you earlier that year on your birthday.
  The air was warm, just like today, and you leaned your back into his front as you laid lazily on the roof of his van. He was singing a song you were too high to comprehend and when you turned your head into his shoulder and looked up at him. 
  His fingers wrapped around a lock of your hair and you hummed in approval. Snuggling further into him. And the next thing you knew it was nearly dawn and you had fallen asleep. 
  It just never seemed like the right time. 
  “So who’s turn is it?” Eddie said clearing his throat. 
  “Oh n-n-n-n-n-n-no!” Steve said leaning further into the circle, clearly interested to know what’s going on, “we aren’t just gonna skate past this.”
  “Drop it, Steve,” Eddie said all too fast, his boots stretching out to kick at his thigh. 
  The bottle in your hands is suddenly heavy and you set it down with a clunk on the bed of the truck. And you pick hastily at your nails, avoiding two sets of brown eyes. 
  “Fuck it,” Steve says, tongue dancing around his mouth trying to stop a smirk, “I dare you to kiss her.” 
  You're certain your heart stops beating. 
  “Jesus Christ,” Eddie sighs. Running his hand on the back of his neck, his open cut off flannel shirt showing off his tattooed chest. 
  “Y-you don’t have to Eddie, it’s okay…” you say trying to brush the tension off, not noticing the way his hands are fiddling with the ends of his shirt and how his eyes haven’t left you, “but I dare you to.” 
  It could have been the combined high. It could have been the fact that you hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eddie since you parked your bike against his trailer this morning. 
  He was always good looking, in that goofy best friend kind of way. And although your friendship was never normal, Eddie’s hands always searing through your skin like grill marks on a hotdog, it never crossed the boundary into something more. And you’d be lying if you weren’t curious about how his lips would taste. 
  That was all the convincing Eddie needed before he pushed himself up in a fluid motion, balancing on his knees, and leaning back with a second guess, but it’s you who leans up on your knees too, meeting him halfway.  
  His dark curls swing around your face as he gets impossibly closer. “You sure?” he asks, working a finger under the tip of your chin. 
  And your surprised when your nod is followed by soft lips, slipping against yours. 
  He tasted like the liquor you’ve been drinking and matches. Musky, and woodsy. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip and catches into the corner of his mouth, the brine of sweat on your tongue has you whining into his mouth and he swallows your noises with glee. 
  He shudders when you pull him closer, fingers hooked into the fabric of his shirt. His eager hands holding your face, lips smacking against yours, and for the first time today, it’s not the heat that has your panties wet. 
  Kissing Eddie is like finding money in your jeans after they go through the dryer. It’s easy, and slow, and so fucking good. 
  Seconds, minutes, days? go by before Steve clears his throat and mutters an ahem! 
  Eddie finished the kiss by nudging is nose down the apple of your cheeks and kissing behind your ear. 
  “Fuck…” is all Steve can muster and you bite your lip and sit back down, lips still buzzing with Eddie’s spit still on them. 
  Eddie is smiling and looking at you, eyes drunk on lust. 
  “I— uh, yeah, it’s my turn I guess, ” straightening your back and crossing your legs in a pretzel, you know damn well you’d get at least one finger down from Steve. “Never have I ever… kissed Nancy Wheeler.”
  Steve rolls his eyes and puts a finger down, and when a long finger covered in grease despite the many wipes against denim jeans  also disappears into a fist… a sloppy grin lines Eddie’s mouth as Steve looks like he might throw up. 
  “Are you fuckin’ serious man?” 
  Eddie explains to a butthurt Steve, “let me explain, fuck— it was like a hundred years ago, after junior year, she kissed me!” 
  It was true. 
  Nancy went to Eddie to buy some “forget-‘ems” (Eddie’s coined word for ecstasy) after Jonathan left her for the pretty long haired new boy from California. She was scared and didn’t want to be alone while she took the white pill. Drug use being foreign to her entirely. 
  Eddie? She had asked kindly, unsure about herself for the first time. Take it with me? 
  His long curls bounced as he nodded his head, taking one of the pills from her dainty hands and placing it between his teeth. Tipping his head back with a quick jerk and a rough swallow, hoping it looked cool, he looked into her blue eyes and gave her a grin. 
  It was strange, having the preppy Nancy Wheeler in his trailer with her proper fitting cardigan and light wash skinny jeans. 
  He could tell she was uncomfortable, the normal glow of her skin was lost behind shallow cheeks and dark rimmed eyes, pressed tight with setting powder to try and hide it. 
  maybe she should have had a smaller dose, being that her small frame had never dealt with drugs before. And right when Eddie’s high took over, Nancy Wheeler had started to feel it too.
  She ran around the trailer giggling and feeling the rough edges of the peeling wallpaper. She did flips on Eddie’s bed and spilled cereal all over the kitchen, laughing with dark wide pupil filled eyes. Completely rolling. 
  The high lasted longer than Eddie had thought it would, and she started to cry when thinking about her mom, crying harder when she asked Eddie about his. Forgetting she was gone. 
  She took it a step further by kissing Eddie square on the mouth, wet cheeks and harsh lips pressed to his before he could pull away. And immediately after, Nancy threw up all over his lap. 
  Ending the high and the four hour sudden friendship they had gained. 
  Eddie had told you the story one night when he got too drunk, making you swear to secrecy the next morning that you’d never tell a soul, and you hadn’t. Keeping the pinky promise with your friend all the way to your grave— if he hadn’t just spilled it all to Steve. 
  “See,” you say to try to smooth things over, voice calm and cool through your own high, “no harm no foul, Stevieee,” you chirped, hiding a small giggle behind bit lips. 
  “Really?” Steve spit, flustered and a bit bold trying to mask his hurt with venom. Tongue pressing deep into his cheek and his dark eyes locked on your own, hands tapping onto his bent knees, “then maybe we should even the score, huh?”
  Eddie blows a ring of smoke into the air, following its lazy descent into the dense humid sky. “You wanna kiss Chrissy?” He looks at you with a quizzical expression, laughing at your stunned face, not understanding what Steve is getting at, “be my fucking guest, dude.” 
  “No,” Steve says firmly, not breaking eye contact with you, dark knives of fury peel back each layer of skin, “her.” 
  Eddie says your name in disbelief, and you’re stunned to your core, realizing the air was suddenly much stickier and hotter than before. 
  He sits up straight and leans over the discarded card game, pointing at Steve, eyes narrowed in on him, “you don’t even like her.” 
  “Sure I do,” Steve lies, sniffing loudly, his wicked eyes glance towards Eddie and he licks his lips when he turns his head back to you, eyeing you up and down, as he leans back on his palms, “don’t I, Taffy?” 
  Eddie’s nickname he had given you when you were kids for love of the cavity inducing candy, felt wrong falling from Steve’s mouth, especially in the grim sentiment it was said in. 
  Of course he was referring to the way he had approached you at that party at the lake all those years ago. 
  You could still smell his Acqua Di Gio cologne, the way the sun highlighted his hair that summer, the freckles on the bridge of his nose, the warm beer on his breath. 
  You make a face in disgust towards him, “I’m not kissing you, Harrington.” Crossing your arms in finality as if your words held enough power to command an entire kingdom. 
  Eddie shoves Steve’s shoulder, “what the fuck man,” mixed pleasure of pain and concern painting his face, “don’t be weird.”
  Steve knew how much Eddie liked you, having spent many nights on the roof of his practically abandoned home listening to Eddie through FaceTime over analyzing how to make his move. 
  “‘m not,” he says with a shrug, long fingers tapping against the metal of the truck bed behind him, legs stretched out so the tops of his air forces skim your bent knees, eyeing what he wanted, you. 
  “just trying to get even,” Steve said nonchalantly. 
  “She’s not gonna kiss you,” Eddie said, shaking his head and throwing his hands around, hurt lacing his voice, “give it up.” 
  Steve wiggled the toe of his sneaker against your knee, shooting you a wink, “not until she does.”
  It’s not as if the question hadn’t crossed your mind. It had more times than you’d like to admit. What would it be like to kiss Steve Harrington? 
  “Dude! She doesn’t wanna do it. Fucking leave her alone.” Eddie’s voice was loud and on the cusp of breaking as he pleaded with his friend.
  What would have happened if you fell for his charm instead of turning him down? He was definitely sweet back then, taking your hand in his and guiding you along the rough terrain of the woods. 
  “Let her speak for herself!” 
  Eddie’s eyes fall to yours in desperation, his heart aching for you to tell Steve off, “c’mon, tell him, Taffy.” 
  Pressing your eyes shut tight you can feel Eddie’s hand on your knee, rubbing soft circles in an attempt to remind you that he’s there. 
  “One.”
  “What?”
“What!”
  “Just one kiss, then you need to shut up, got it?” 
  “Taff, you don’t have to do this, we can— we can just get home and I’ll pay him or something.” He’s desperate, willing to do whatever it took to not have this happen. 
  “It’s okay, Eddie, what’s one stupid kiss gonna hurt?” 
  You don’t hear the way he groans and throws himself back against the side of the truck, pinching the corner of his eyes between his fingers trying to ignore Steve’s low chuckle and smirk planted on his face. 
  “C’mon then,” Steve presses, man spreading his legs and patting his lap, “get over here.” 
  You roll your eyes and push yourself up again, “cocky aren’t ya?” 
  “all confidence babe,” he says back, licking his lips, and you roll your eyes again before kneeling in front of him. 
  Eddie groans and kicks at Steve’s leg again. 
  “Sorry dude, just bro code,” he said to Eddie, “and you,” he says addressing you with a nod, “ready?” 
  “Yeah, whatever.” 
  He doesn’t move like Eddie, he’s grabby and rough, taking what he wants and not waiting for cues. He bullies his way into your mouth with his tongue, colliding yours with his and massaging it wildly. It wasn’t bad, just completely different than how you were just kissed by Eddie. When his teeth bite the flesh of your lip you yelp in surprise.
  You turn your head and Steve’s lips trail down your neck, hungry hands grab at your waist and pull you into his lap. Your eyes are closed but his are open, looking at his friend and moving his hand in a wave to beckon him over. 
  A second set of hands is on your shoulders and you feel Eddie’s lips against your neck. 
  “This okay baby?” 
  His breath is hot and stuttering as you reach up and fist your fingers in his hair, your answer muffled by Steve’s mouth. 
  You moan their names, and it drives Eddie wild. 
  Eddie’s hands lower the strap of your tank top scraping your skin with the blunt of his nails. He groans when he sees the absence of a bra strap, diving into your warm skin with a lapping tongue, thrashing slow against your skin, working a strawberry shaped bruise into your skin.
  Steve’s hands are already working to pop the button on your jeans, and you whine when you feel his hard cock beneath your leg. 
  “So fuckin’ pretty,” Eddie breathes as you crane your neck to meet his lips, desperate for your lips to connect with his sgain. 
  His hands fumble on your tank top straps and he groans when his fingers skim over the swell of your tits, you twist his hair in your fingers when his rough hands pinch at your nipples.
  Steve takes his shirt off and tosses it carelessly, his skin is warm on your bare chest as he licks at your exposed neck and earns another moan from you, causing you to whine into Eddie’s mouth and move your hips against his cock. 
  You’re all a tangle of bare chests and sweat coated skin. The boys are barely giving you any time to breathe between open mouth kisses and lazy tongues before the other one commands your attention. 
  “oh, fuck,” Steve whimpers when he works your shorts down, his large fingers find their way into the wet folds of your pussy, “no panties?” 
  Eddie pulls his mouth from yours to let out a desperate groan as your hands unzip his jeans, “shit, all day and no bra or panties,” his hands caress your cheeks and his thumb slips into your mouth open, which you close around him and moan, “you’re a bad girl, huh?” 
  “With the tightest little pussy, fuck,” Steve groans as he pushes a finger into your slick walls. 
  “Mm’mm” you answer them both at once, grabbing needy at Eddie’s cock through his boxer briefs as it flips into your hand, heavy and leaking a pearl of cum from the slit. 
  Noises of all kinds flood the bed of the truck. 
  Wet sloshing from you gushing over Steve’s fingers, him coaxing an orgasm from you as quick as he could, determined to hear your pretty mouth hum. 
Eddie almost in tears as your mouth devours his length  and the head of his cock slides into your throat. 
  The velvet skin of Eddie’s heavy cock slides in and out of your mouth at a slow speed, a small patch of hair rubs on your nose as you take him deeper.
  He’s muttering incoherently and Steve is egging you on. His lips wrapped around your nipples and teeth nipping harshly. 
  “Jesus Jesus sweetheart, Taff— I’m gonna, don’t want to shit shit shit,” you open your mouth and he slides out on accident as you cum all over Steve’s fingers. Sloppy and wet as he rubs at your clit like a DJ. 
  “Thas’it,” he encourages, “so fucking wet, pretty little pussy, yeah, you like this? The two of us giving you what you want huh?” 
  “Yes, Jesus Christ yes!” you’re a blabbing mess, as your high peaks and Eddie spins you away from Steve.
  Steve’s jeans are soaked from you and he’s pitching a tent big enough to host a family reunion. 
  “My turn baby,” Eddie says kissing you sloppy on your lips, “been wantin’ to taste this sweet pussy for years.”
  He helps you lay down on the blanket, making a makeshift pillow with the discarded clothes from the three of you. 
  You’re covered in sweat and more than likely sunburnt in places no one ever should be, but you could care less. Being worshiped by Steve and Eddie had you feeling like the sexiest woman alive, and nothing could compare to the separate high that alone was giving you. 
  Eddie nudges his nose in the crook where your thighs meet, tongue lapping up the pleasure leftover from Steve. “What’d’ya think Stevie boy? Wanna bet I can make her cry?” 
  Steve’s busying himself with unthreading his legs from his jeans, his cock in his hand as he strokes it up and down at the sight of you spread out and naked for them. 
  “You’re on, Munson.”
  Eddie’s tongue was tantalizing. Demon-like against your puffy clit and going further into your pussy than any tongue has before, including Robin’s. 
  His nose pushes up against your clit as he goes deeper, swirling his wicked tongue and slurping your folds into his mouth. 
  You’re buzzing all over. Vibrating from the intense pleasure. Moaning and yanking Eddie’s hair between your fingers as he moves and licks and darts his tongue. 
  Pretty whimpers elicit your body and are swallowed by Steve’s lips, as he hungrily works his tongue into your mouth. The swirling and twirling is all too much.  Their tongues work like hands on a clock and your second orgasm arrives quick fast and in a hurry. The tears spill from your eyes as your writhe and moan beneath them, clawing every inch of their skin. 
  Eddie cleans you up with his tongue holding your hips in place as you shake and try to wiggle away from him. Too sensitive as you lay practically lifeless on the bed of the truck. 
  “Told you,” Eddie says as he sits up, with a sheen of your arousal all over his face. Smiling wide. “I’m just that good.” 
  Steve sits up and tucks his cock back into his boxers, pushing his hair back from his sweat slicked face, “yeah yeah, whatever…” he says, looking out towards the blue sky and the wavering, heat wave horizon, a stupid grin on his lips, “better get dressed sweet girl.” 
  “Thought we were just getting started,” you whine as Eddie kisses his way up your body, laying on his back next to you, his finger threaded with yours. 
  Steve chuckles and points a long finger to the road, “it’ll have to be another time, princess, our ride is almost here.” 
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I have a part two partly written .. lemme know what you would think of that?
CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED
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veltana · 3 months
Text
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No one as sweet as you
Stucky/Fem!Reader
Explicit | ~9.4k
When you’re hurt by your boyfriend you go to the two people you can depend on for anything, Steve and Bucky, your best friends.
This is set while they were living together in college. It focuses on their relationship and how Bucky and Steve started to develop feelings for Sweets as more than just their best friend.
Steve's break-up
Teen | ~1k
Bucky's break-up
Mature | ~1.7k
Reader's break-up
Teen | 1.9k
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Realization
Stucky
Explicit | 1.6k
Steve/Sweets | Explicit
Moodboard and banners done by me.
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tuiccim · 2 years
Text
Playing for Keeps
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Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader
Warnings: Post-breakup, angst with a happy ending, jealousy, manipulation, anxiety.
Word count: 2k
Summary: A party at Tony's penthouse has you facing Steve Rogers for the first time since he broke your heart and you make sure to show up with a heartthrob on your arm.
A/N: Thank you to the lovely @whisperlullabyfor beta reading for me. Dedicated to my darling friend @maladaptivexxdaydreaming who sent me the gif that set my brain going on this story.
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You take a deep breath on the elevator ride up to Tony’s penthouse and glance at your date. Handsome in his suit, Jean-Paul smiles at you and reaches to entwine your fingers together. You squeeze his hand as the doors open revealing a room full of people. You make your way around saying hello to your friends and acquaintances while sipping a glass of champagne. 
“Hey! You came,” Natasha greets you with her signature smirk. 
“Of course. Tony invited-”
“Look who it is!” Sam slides up to you with a grin. 
“Hey Sam,” you say, giving him a quick hug but feeling your stomach knot. 
“Who’s your friend?” Sam asks, eyeing Jean-Paul. 
“This is my date, Jean-Paul Beaubier. Jean-Paul, this is Natasha Romanoff and Sam Wilson.”
“Of course, you two really need no introduction,” Jean-Paul says as he shakes their hands. 
“How did you two meet?” Natasha asks with a glance at Sam.
“We-” “This-” You and Jean-Paul speak at the same time and then laugh together.
“Okay, you tell it,” you smile. 
“As I was saying, this beautiful creature wandered into my reading. I was promoting my latest novel when a vision walked in and stole my breath. I could barely get through the rest of my chapter. And then I had to take questions and sign books. I was watching her out of the corner of my eye to make sure she didn’t leave. She came up after things died down, had me sign a copy of the book, asked some wonderfully intelligent questions, and even managed to seem surprised when I asked her to go for a drink.”
“Jean-Paul!” you laugh at his exaggeration. “More like, I stammered out a barely intelligible question and almost passed out when he asked.”
“I was enchanted,” Jean-Paul smiles at you. 
“And far too kind to me,” you demure.
“That’s so… sweet,” Natasha says with a stiff smile.
“You gotta teach me some moves, man,” Sam elbows Jean-Paul with a waggle of his eyebrows. 
“Oh, Tony and Pepper are waving us over,” you say quickly, relieved to be leaving the conversation. 
Jean-Paul guides you in their direction with a hand on the small of your back. You make introductions and small talk until you can extricate yourself to wander around the party. You enjoy seeing your friends even if it does feel slightly awkward at times. A little later, you and Jean-Paul are sitting close together with his arm around your waist. His whispered observations of the party goers had you giggling uncontrollably until-
“Someone is staring at you, darling, and seems quite unhappy.”
You glance up and feel a chill as you lock eyes with Steve Rogers. His piercing blue gaze speaks volumes. Turning back to Jean-Paul, you tell him, “That’s my ex.”
“Captain America. He won’t make me disappear, will he?” Jean-Paul’s lips quirk. 
You laugh and shake your head. He kisses your neck and continues talking but your mind wanders to the supersoldier whose eyes you can still feel on you. It had been six weeks since he broke up with you. He looked different in just that short amount of time. His hair was a tad longer and less groomed.  His beard had grown in making a much gruffer looking Captain America. He had ended your seven month relationship for reasons you didn’t fully understand. His lame excuse of putting you in danger, and that he was too busy with the Avengers to give you what you deserve had sounded hollow even to you. 
The intense retrospection you had put yourself through had led you to one conclusion. The drawer. Steve stayed with you as much, if not more, than he stayed at the compound and so you had cleaned out a drawer for him, made some space in the closet, and invited him to keep some things there. Less than a week later, he took all of his things and walked out of your apartment and your life. You were devastated but had concluded that Steve simply couldn’t commit. After all, seven months in and he had never said I love you. Although, that hadn’t stopped you from berating yourself for pushing him. 
Now, your anger and guilt had subsided but your heart still hurt and you knew you had to do something. Jean-Paul was perfect. Handsome, kind, funny, and intelligent, all the things you need right now. 
“Hey…” Jean-Paul gets your attention. 
“I’m sorry. I got lost in thought for a second.”
“It’s okay, minou. Would you like another drink?”
“That sounds great but I’ll get them. Thor is over there. I know you wanted to meet him. Would you like me to introduce you?” you ask. 
“Please,” he stands and holds a hand out to you. 
After making introductions, you excuse yourself to refresh your drinks and run into Wanda at the bar. 
“How’ve you been?” you ask her. 
“I’m doing fine,” she says with a raised eyebrow. 
“Is Vision okay?” you ask, confused by her demeanor. 
“He’s wonderful. How are you?” Wanda’s intonation expresses more than her words. 
“I’m doing pretty good. Just trying to move on. Find some happiness,” you answer the unspoken question.  
“He hasn’t been the same since…”
“He broke up with me, Wanda. This was his choice,” you answer defensively. 
“I’m not blaming you. I’m just letting you know in case…”
“I won’t chase him. He made his feelings very clear. Anyway, I should get back to my date. It was nice seeing you.”
“You, too,” Wanda smiles sadly. 
You make your way back to Jean-Paul who puts a possessive arm around you. It seems every time you glance around the party you manage to catch Steve’s eyes. His gaze seemed to follow you everywhere, sometimes centered on you and other times wherever on your body Jean-Paul’s hand was on at the time. It was disconcerting but you chose to ignore him and made your way around the party while trying to enjoy yourself. 
It was as you were conversing with Natasha and Sam again that everything seemed to hit you at once. Jean-Paul’s side pressed to yours, his hand making circles on your back, the noise of the party, the feeling of Steve’s eyes on you, the weight of the glances Natasha kept making in his direction, the cold glass in your hand, the underlying meaning of all the words around you, and your anxiety skyrocketed. The overwhelmed feeling was too much for you and you excused yourself to the lady’s room. 
Sitting on the toilet, you allow yourself a couple of tears before forcing yourself to suck it up. Before, you would have been with Steve. The noise would have faded when he looked at you, not buzzed as it had tonight. All of the conversations would not have seemed rife with meaning and you wouldn’t feel constantly judged. You would have been safe and comfortable under his wing. 
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you straighten your shoulders, take a few deep breaths, and force yourself to leave the quiet sanctuary. You walk down the hall towards the living room when a door opens as you pass it and you hear your name before being pulled into the room. You stare into Steve’s eyes as he closes the door and then leans into you with his large hands spread on each side of the wall beside you. He was close enough to smell and you had to stop yourself from closing your eyes and breathing him in. Just his presence had an instant calming effect on your nerves until the intrusive memories of his words broke through. 
“Are you okay?” he asks softly. 
You look at him as several emotions run through you. Finally, you lift your chin and answer defiantly, “That’s not really your business anymore.”
“It’ll always be my business to make sure you’re okay,” Steve says softly. 
“I’m fine. Can you-”
“Minou?”Jean-Paul’s voice can be heard through the door just as he opens it and stares at you trapped by Steve’s arms. You push Steve away as Jean-Paul turns on his heel to leave. 
“Jean-Paul, please! It’s not what it looks like!” 
“Tu me prends pour une valise?(Do you take me for a fool?)” He says as he walks away quickly. 
“No! Jean, please!” You try to follow but Steve grabs your hand. 
“Please don’t go,” he begs. 
“Why not? Why shouldn’t I run after a good man? Why should I stay here with the one who broke my heart? Give me one good reason!” You practically shout the last sentence and scoff when he simply stares back. 
As you turn away again, he finds his voice, “Because I love you!”
That stops you in your tracks. He had never said it before. He had never mentioned love or the future even but now he was declaring it loudly. But could it be real?
“Funny how you just figured that out. You see me with another man and your jealousy finally forces those words out of your mouth. Well, Captain Rogers, I don’t believe you!” 
Steve closes the door before you can go out and when you turn back to him with a sharp remark on your tongue, it fades as you notice the tears clinging to his lashes. He holds his hands up and says softly, “Please, please hear me out. That night was the worst night of my life. I thought I was doing what was best for both of us with everything that was happening. There are so many threats, so many things you don’t know about and I can’t tell you. I thought I could protect you best by letting you go.”
“No, no! That isn’t the real reason you did this. You did this because you’re too scared to really commit to someone. You realized you had gotten in too deep with me and ran scared,” you try to hold onto your anger but your voice breaks on the last word. 
Steve sees you straighten your spine but the quiver in your lip is a dead giveaway. You’re scared to let him in again and his heart twists. Whatever it took he would win you back and the first step was admitting his failings. Carefully, he cradles your neck as he speaks softly, “You’re right. I was scared. I am scared but not having you is so much scarier. You are what makes all of the fighting worth it. You make me a better person and remind me of all the good things in the world. I wasn’t going to come tonight but I knew I had to. I had to see you. I needed to know that I could be in the same room with you and all of my reasons for breaking up with you would hold up.”
“And?” You whisper.
“Not a single one did. The second those elevator doors opened and I could see you, nothing else mattered except you. I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. I love you so much. And if it’s still on the table, can I have that drawer?” Steve looks into your eyes, waiting for your answer. 
“It’s still available. I think we can make that work,” you reply with a little smirk. 
“And the other thing?”
“Yeah, I love you, too, Steve.”
“Thank God,” Steve whispers before kissing you sweetly. 
“What do we do now?” you ask as the kiss ends. 
“Go to my room to grab a few things. Do you want to go find Jean-Paul and tell him?” Steve asks.
“He’ll figure it out,” you say as you pull Steve to you for another kiss. 
Hours later, you smile at Steve’s sleeping form next to you. Your lips are slightly swollen from the number of kisses shared and you would have beard burn in some interesting places tomorrow but it was worth every moment. Quietly, you grab your phone and send a quick text to Jean-Paul, “Tell Kyle I said thank you for letting me borrow his hubby for the night. You’re the best.” Turning over, you snuggle against Steve and smile at being back where you belong.
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Updates and taglist: I do not keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made weekly. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction​ and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!
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keerysfolklore · 4 months
Text
Yuletide Pixels; S.H
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Part One: Virtual Greetings
Masterlist
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: Steve Harrington, still nursing a broken heart from his previous love, decides to embrace the holiday spirit by heading to New York to meet his online girlfriend, Y/N, for the first time. As he navigates the festive cityscape, he grapples with the ghosts of his past relationship, determined to open up to new possibilities. However, as Steve gets closer to Y/N, he begins to question if she is everything she claims to be, unraveling a mystery that adds a layer of suspense to their Christmas rendezvous.
Warning: Fluff, Hallmark Type of Fluff, Alchol, A little bit of spice - smut to follow, angst etc.
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Steve stood in the middle of his room, surrounded by an array of clothes, as he contemplated the essentials for his upcoming trip. The invitation to spend the holidays in New York with Y/N had arrived like a serendipitous gift, and excitement mingled with nerves as he prepared for the journey.
His suitcase lay open on the bed, a blank canvas waiting to be filled with the promises of a winter romance. Steve meticulously folded each shirt and sweater, a careful choreography of packing that mirrored the precision he once used in styling his hair. He couldn't help but smirk at the irony; love had a way of turning the tough into the tender.
Amidst the packing, Steve's mind drifted back to the moment he decided to make this leap, to bridge the gap between pixels and reality.
——
It was a chilly evening in Hawkins, the kind that whispered the arrival of winter. Steve sat in his dimly lit room, surrounded by the soft glow of fairy lights that his Mum had hung to add a touch of warmth to the space. The room, once a fortress of solitude, had transformed into a sanctuary where he connected with Y/N through the digital waves.
His phone buzzed, which nowadays meant two things - one a phone call from Dustin asking for a ride or two, a message from Y/N. Tonight it was the second. They had shared countless messages, pictures, and even late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours. Yet, tonight felt different. The holiday spirit was in the air, and Steve's heart carried a newfound courage.
With a deep breath, he tapped out a message to Y/N, his fingers dancing across the screen.
"Hey, Y/N. I was thinking... the holidays are coming up, and I was wondering if you'd be up for something crazy. What if I hopped on a plane and spent Christmas with you in New York? In person, finally? Be nice to finally meet my girlfriend. 🙂"
The seconds that followed felt like an eternity. Steve anxiously stared at his phone, waiting for the response that would decide the course of his holidays. A flurry of thoughts raced through his mind. What if Y/N found the idea too impulsive, too forward?
Then, the reply arrived, a virtual heartbeat that echoed through the room.
"Stevie, that sounds amazing! I'd love for you to spend Christmas with me. It's a date! 💗🎄✈️"
Steve's heart skipped a beat. The anticipation of their first meeting, wrapped in the magic of the holidays, sparked a newfound excitement within him. The decision was made, and the path to New York, paved with dreams and promises, awaited him.
---
Robin sat on the worn-out beanbag in Steve's bedroom, a hint of concern etched across her face as she watched him pack for his trip to New York.
"Okay, Steve, spill it. What's got you grinning like an idiot while stuffing your entire wardrobe into that suitcase?" Robin quipped, her eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
Steve looked up from his packing, a sheepish grin playing on his lips. "Guess what? I'm finally going to meet Y/N in person. I'm flying to New York for Christmas!"
Robin's eyes widened, and she couldn't help but let out an involuntary gasp. "Seriously? That's... huge, Harrington. But wait, aren't you nervous or something?"
Steve chuckled nervously, "Well, maybe a little. But it's exciting, you know? I've been talking to Y/N for months, and it feels like the right time to take the plunge. I asked her to be my girlfriend a couple of months ago after a few too many drinks at Eddies, so if feels right yanno. To meet her."
Robin arched an eyebrow, a sly smile forming. "Hold up. You're not getting catfished, are you? This Y/N, is she even real? I can’t believe you’re dating a girl you’ve never met!"
Steve laughed, "Come on, Robin! We've video chatted, and she's sent plenty of pictures. She's real, and she's amazing plus she’s super cute."
Robin leaned back, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Alright, alright. But what if she's, I don't know, too perfect or something? What if the real deal doesn't live up to your digital fantasies?"
Steve paused, a thoughtful expression replacing his earlier excitement. "That's a possibility, I guess. But I like her for who she is, you know? Even if she's not exactly what I expect, it's about connecting in person and seeing where it goes."
Robin raised an eyebrow, "And what if she's secretly an alien or something? You gonna fight off extraterrestrial beings for the sake of love?"
Steve laughed, "Hey, you never know. We’ve seen weirder things Robs. But seriously, I'm going into this with an open mind. It's an adventure, and I'm up for it."
Robin couldn't help but smile at Steve's optimism. "Well, you better keep me updated, Harrington. I need to know if I should start preparing a dramatic speech for when you come back heartbroken."
Steve rolled his eyes, "You watch too many romantic movies, Robin. This is real life."
"Real life can be more dramatic than the movies, trust me," she replied with a smirk.
As Steve continued packing, Robin couldn't shake the worry lingering in her eyes. "Just promise me you'll be careful, alright? If she turns out to be a psycho killer or something, you better have a plan. Let’s be honest you’re not a final girl.”
Steve grinned, "I promise, Robin. I'll be careful. But I have a good feeling about this. Y/N seems genuine, and I think it's worth taking the chance."
Robin sighed, shaking her head, "You're hopeless, Dingus. But fine, I hope it works out for you. And if it doesn't, well, you'll have a dramatic story to tell. And Dustin owes Eddie $20."
Steve chuckled, "Thanks, Rob. I appreciate your concern. Now, can you help me zip up this suitcase? I think I might have overpacked."
The next morning, Steve found himself at Airport, the scent of coffee and the murmur of travelers filling the air. As he checked in, the reality of his journey set in, and the thrill of adventure coursed through his veins.
Steve sat in the bustling airport terminal, his fingers tapping nervously on the armrest of the plastic seat. The announcement for his flight echoed through the air, a reminder that his journey to meet Y/N was about to begin. As he scanned the crowd, his eyes caught sight of an elderly couple, hands intertwined, sharing a quiet moment that spoke volumes.
Steve couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia mixed with a touch of melancholy. It reminded him of a time when he believed in love, a time before heartbreaks and shattered illusions.
Nancy had been his first love, and the painful aftermath of their breakup left Steve wary of diving into the depths of his emotions again. In the years that followed, he became a self-proclaimed serial dater, avoiding anything that resembled commitment. Casual relationships, casual sex – they became a shield, protecting him from the vulnerability that accompanied love.
The elderly couple's laughter drew Steve's attention back to the present, and he couldn't help but wonder if he could find that kind of love again. The fear of getting hurt had kept him at arm's length from love, but as he embarked on this journey to meet Y/N, a newfound sense of hope bubbled within him.
It had all started when he reluctantly signed up for a dating site. Swiping through profiles had felt like a chore until he stumbled upon Y/N's. Something about her witty bio and the genuine smile in her pictures sparked his interest. As they exchanged messages, a subtle shift occurred within Steve. It wasn't just about the thrill of meeting someone new; it was about the prospect of finding a connection that went beyond the surface. Beyond looks or sex.
thek1ngharrington: speaking to you makes my day honey, I wish I could see that cute face in person…
newy0rkg1rly: same stevie, you’re not like the other guys on this app <3 you’re so charming!
thek1ngharrington: charming hey?
newy0rkg1rly: most definitely stevie <3
thek1ngharrington: you know what else would make my day? …
thek1ngharrington: if you’d let me be your boyfriend…
The elderly couple's affectionate gestures fueled Steve's daydreams. He envisioned himself and Y/N, decades down the line, still sharing quiet moments filled with laughter and understanding. The idea of a lasting love story, one that could weather the storms of life, resonated with him in a way that casual flings never did.
His boarding group was called, pulling Steve back from his musings. As he made his way down the crowded aisle of the plane, he couldn't shake the mix of excitement and nervousness that fluttered in his chest.
The hum of the plane's engines became a comforting backdrop as Steve settled into his seat. With each passing mile, he felt the weight of past regrets lift, replaced by the anticipation of what awaited him in New York. The idea of meeting Y/N face-to-face stirred emotions he had long buried.
As the plane ascended into the sky, Steve gazed out of the window, lost in thought. The elderly couple he had seen earlier served as a silent reminder that love, resilient and enduring, was worth the risk. The journey from heartbreak to hope had brought him to this moment, and he couldn't help but believe that Y/N might be the key to a new chapter in his life.
As the plane soared above the clouds, Steve's mind drifted back to their virtual conversations. The late-night calls where laughter echoed through the digital waves, the moments of vulnerability shared in text messages – they all contributed to the tapestry of their connection. Now, he was on a journey to weave those threads into something real.
The flight passed in a blur of anticipation and daydreams. Steve landed at JFK Airport, greeted by the bustling energy of New York. The city, adorned with festive decorations, welcomed him like an old friend. The adventure had officially begun.
---
Steve's hotel room exuded a warm, intimate ambiance that wrapped around him like a cozy embrace. The dim lighting cast a soft glow on the walls, creating an atmosphere that felt both inviting and secluded.
A plush armchair nestled in a corner invited him to unwind, its velvety texture a tactile invitation to relaxation. The room was adorned with subtle Christmas decorations – a miniature tree adorned with twinkling lights, a wreath hanging on the door, and a scattering of festive throw pillows on the bed. The scent of cinnamon and pine permeated the air, courtesy of a holiday-scented candle flickering on the bedside table.
The focal point of the room was the bed, dressed in soft, inviting linens. A plump duvet beckoned Steve to sink into its warmth, promising solace from the chill of the winter night. The TV, strategically positioned at the foot of the bed, played classic Christmas films that filled the room with the familiar melodies of holiday cheer.
Outside, the city was blanketed in a layer of pristine snow, muffling the sounds of the bustling streets. The occasional gentle tap of snowflakes against the windowpane created a soothing rhythm, heightening the sense of coziness within. Steve, nestled under the covers, watched the flakes dance in the soft glow of the streetlights, feeling a sense of tranquility settle over him.
Steve fumbled for his phone, excitement bubbling as he dialed Robin's number to share the news of his safe arrival in New York. The phone rang a couple of times before Robin's voice greeted him with a characteristic nonchalance.
"Hey, Harrington, what's the word from the Big Apple?" she quipped.
"Hey, Robs! Just wanted to let you know I've landed, and I'm in the hotel room. New York's looking pretty cool," Steve replied, his enthusiasm evident in his voice.
"That's awesome, Harrington! Make sure to hit up all the touristy spots and get a slice of real New York pizza," Robin suggested.
As they continued their conversation, a raucous voice in the background cut through the line – it was Eddie, always the embodiment of crass humor.
"Tell Steve to find a hot New York babe and live his 'best life' or whatever," Eddie blurted out, causing Robin to groan audibly.
Robin chuckled nervously, "Uh, yeah, Eddie's always full of stellar advice, as you can tell." She rolled her eyes, "Ignore him, Harrington. So, what's the plan for your first night in the city that never sleeps?"
"Well, I was thinking of grabbing a coffee and then maybe checking out the Christmas lights. You know, classic tourist stuff, I think I’m gonna see if y/n wants to meet tonight instead of tomorrow." Steve explained.
Robin teased, "Aww, look at you trying to be all romantic. If you start quoting poetry, I'll disown you."
"Eddie's already given me enough questionable advice. No need to worry about poetry just yet," Steve replied, playfully. Eddie, in the background, added another crude comment, earning an exasperated sigh from Robin.
"Okay, Harrington, just promise me you won't end up in some New York tabloid with a headline like 'Small-Town Boy's Big City Misadventure,'" Robin quipped.
Steve laughed, "No promises, but I'll do my best. Anyway, I'll let you go. Just wanted to fill you in. Catch you later, Rob."
"Take care, Dingus. And don't let Eddie’s advice drag you into any shenanigans," Robin advised before hanging up.
As the call ended, Steve couldn't help but shake his head at the amusing dynamic between himself, Robin, and Eddie.
As he sipped from a steaming mug of coffee, the festive scenes on the TV transported him. The crackling fireplace in the films mirrored the warmth emanating from the room, and the characters' laughter echoed in harmony with the gentle snowfall outside.
In that serene space, surrounded by the charm of the season, Steve felt a sense of peace. The darkness, far from being oppressive, cocooned him in a sanctuary where the glow of holiday lights and the comforting embrace of a well-appointed room created a haven for him to relish the magic of Christmas, even if miles away from home.
Steve sank into the plush pillows, As sleep claimed him, the transition from reality to dreamland was seamless. He found himself transported to a bustling New York street. The snowflakes danced in the air, and the festive atmosphere mirrored the holiday charm he had come to love. Steve was wearing a red beanie hat and gingham jacket.
Amid the crowd, Y/N appeared, or at least, Steve thought it was Y/N. However, to his utter surprise, Y/N was no longer the vibrant, beautiful girl he had known. Instead, she had transformed into an old man – complete with a flowing white beard and a twinkle in his eye.
Steve blinked in disbelief, unable to comprehend the absurdity of the situation. "Y/N? Is that really you?" he asked, bewildered.
The old man, who now seemed to be an embodiment of wisdom and whimsy, simply chuckled. "Ah, young man, appearances can be deceiving."
They strolled through the imaginary New York together, the old-man Y/N imparting cryptic advice and sharing tales of a bygone era. The dream unfolded like a quirky holiday movie, with Steve as the unwitting protagonist of this bizarre tale.
"Love is like a new season. Embrace the change, let go of the past, and allow yourself to bloom anew. The hardships you faced are lessons, not anchors.”
The words hit Steve like a train.
“Open your heart, learn from the storms, and let the warmth of a new love melt away the cold remnants of what was. Trust the journey, Steve, and you'll find a love that complements the person you're becoming."
Steve's laughter echoed in the dreamy streets. Suddenly, he jolted awake, finding himself back in the quiet hotel room. The Christmas lights still twinkled softly, and the snowfall outside painted a serene scene.
A wave of relief washed over him as he realised it was just a dream.
Steve chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the hilarity of his dreams.
“That’s enough sleep for me.” He said as he ran his fingers through his bed head.
As evening descended, Steve decided to take a stroll through Central Park. The park, blanketed in a soft layer of snow, became a magical haven where dreams took flight. He paused near the iconic Bethesda Terrace, a scene that seemed to belong to a romantic painting.
The crisp winter air carried with it a swirl of memories, a bittersweet symphony of Christmases past. His mind wandered back to a few years ago when the holiday season was wrapped in the warmth of Nancy’s family.
The park, adorned with a dusting of snow, mirrored the enchanting backdrop of that particular Christmas. Steve recalled the laughter that echoed through the air as they engaged in a friendly snowball fight, the cold nipping at their noses but the warmth of camaraderie keeping them toasty.
Nancy's family home, nestled in the quiet charm of Hawkins, had been a haven of festive cheer. The living room, adorned with twinkling lights and a towering tree, had felt like a scene straight out of a holiday movie. Steve remembered the crackling fireplace casting a cozy glow, the aroma of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts lingering in the air.
The memory of that Christmas lingered, a poignant mix of joy and nostalgia. The exchange of gifts, the shared laughter, and the gentle hum of holiday tunes playing in the background painted a picture of a time when Steve's heart was entwined with the spirit of the season.
As he continued his walk through Central Park, the present-day snowfall created a serene atmosphere that mirrored the magical moments he had experienced in the past.
Steve couldn't help but feel a tinge of wistfulness as he acknowledged the passage of time. Yet, with each step, he found solace in the fact that those memories had paved the way for new chapters. This Christmas, he was on a different journey, heading to New York to meet Y/N, a virtual connection that held the promise of creating fresh, meaningful moments.
Central Park, veiled in the tranquility of falling snow, became a canvas for reflection. The past and the present converged, and as Steve continued his stroll, he carried not just the nostalgia of holidays gone by, but also the anticipation of new memories waiting to be unwrapped in the heart of the city that never sleeps.
His phone buzzed with a message from Y/N, a reminder that she was just a heartbeat away. The virtual world and the tangible one collided as he typed out his reply, each word carrying the weight of his excitement.
"I'm in Central Park, Y/N. It's even more beautiful than I imagined. Can't wait to see you. Where should we meet?"
Y/N's response was swift, a digital rendezvous in the heart of the park. As Steve made his way towards their meeting point, he couldn't shake the feeling that every step brought him closer not only to Y/N but also to the culmination of a journey that began with a simple message and the courage to take a chance on love.
Steve walked into the cozy coffee shop, its walls adorned with rustic decor that exuded a warmth matching the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The place was a visual delight, with dimmed lights casting a soft glow, and the chatter of patrons creating a soothing background symphony.
His heart raced with anticipation as he scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Y/N. The plush couches and wooden tables were filled with people engrossed in conversations or buried in books, but none seemed to be the person he was eagerly awaiting. Steve's nerves were palpable; he couldn't help but wonder if the connection they'd shared online would seamlessly translate into the real world.
Every time the door chimed, signaling someone's arrival, Steve's gaze instinctively darted in that direction, hoping to see Y/N's familiar face. Yet, with each entrance, he was met with disappointment. The minutes ticked away, and the quiet hum of anticipation mingled with the low murmur of conversations around him.
The ambiance of the coffee shop seemed to magnify the intensity of his nerves. He felt a knot tightening in his stomach, unsure of what to expect from this meeting. The coffee cup before him remained untouched, as if mirroring the hesitation that lingered in the air.
An hour passed, and several unanswered phone calls later, Steve's optimism waned. He tried to quell the rising worry within him, but with each unanswered ring, doubt began to cast shadows over his initial excitement. The pretty surroundings that had initially captivated him now felt like a backdrop to an unfulfilled expectation.
Steve stared at the coffee cup before him, contemplating whether he should wait a little longer or admit defeat. The allure of the venue was overshadowed by a cloud of uncertainty. Was Y/N real, or had he been drawn into an elaborate ruse? The doubts gnawed at him, making the cozy atmosphere feel more like a trap than a sanctuary.
He decided to send another text, his fingers tapping the screen with a mixture of frustration and concern. The message remained unanswered, leaving Steve with a sinking feeling. He contemplated leaving, abandoning the hopeful narrative he had painted in his mind, and facing the possibility that Y/N might not be who she claimed to be. Steve looked at the photos y/n had sent him, what if she’s not real?
As he replayed their online interactions in his mind, Steve couldn't shake the suspicion that this might have been an elaborate prank or, worse, a cruel joke at his expense. The vulnerability of putting himself out there, only to be met with silence, left him feeling exposed and raw.
Time seemed to move at a sluggish pace, each second echoing with the unanswered questions that reverberated in Steve's mind. He considered making one last attempt, reaching out with a final call, hoping against hope for a response that would dispel the growing unease within him.
The phone rang, and Steve's eyes were fixed on the screen, the suspense building with each passing ring. No answer. The silence that followed was deafening, a stark contrast to the bustling coffee shop around him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
With a heavy heart, Steve pushed back from the table, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor as he stood. The once-inviting surroundings now felt oppressive, and he couldn't escape the feeling of being played. As he made his way to the exit, the barista shot him a sympathetic look, and Steve offered a half-hearted nod in acknowledgment.
The city outside greeted him with its usual hustle and bustle, but Steve's thoughts were consumed by the unanswered questions. Was Y/N ever real, or was she merely a figment of someone's imagination behind a screen? He grappled with the disappointment, wondering how someone could play with another's emotions in such a way.
Outside the coffee shop, Steve knelt down to tie his shoelaces, trying to distract himself from the mounting disappointment. Just as he focused on the task at hand, the crisp winter air carried the sound of hurried footsteps, and a voice cut through the quiet, "Stevie!"
Startled, he looked up to see Y/N running down the snow-covered road, her breath visible in the cold air. Flustered and apologetic, she reached him, cheeks flushed from the cold and the rush to get there.
"Steve, I'm so sorry," Y/N panted, her words stumbling over each other. "I got caught in loads of traffic, and then my phone battery died. I couldn't call or message. I know it's late, and I feel awful about it."
As she spoke, Steve found it hard to concentrate on her explanation. The winter wind had tousled her hair, framing her face in a way that made it impossible for him to focus on anything else. Her eyes, wide with sincerity, held an earnest apology that seemed to melt away the frustration he had been harboring.
"It's just, the snow and the traffic, and I tried to find a charger, but..." Y/N’s voice trailed off as she caught Steve's gaze, her apologetic tone turning into a sheepish smile. "I'm really sorry, Stevie. I didn't mean to keep you waiting."
Despite the initial frustration, Steve couldn't help but be captivated by her presence. The snowflakes dusted her hair, and there was an authenticity in her eyes that resonated with him. The weight of disappointment lifted as he found himself entranced by her genuine apology.
Y/N, still catching her breath from the snowy sprint, suddenly paused, her eyes widening with realization. A flush of embarrassment tinted her cheeks.
"Oh gosh, Steve," she stammered, "I got so caught up in explaining and apologising that I forgot to properly say hello! We've never actually met, and here I am rambling on."
Steve chuckled, finding her flustered admission endearing. "No worries at all honey. It happens to the best of us. Hey…officially." he says running his hand through his snow covered hair.
Y/N's eyes softened as she met his gaze, and a genuine smile graced her lips. "Hey, Stevie. It's really lovely to finally meet you in person..” she said whilst hugging steve, taking in his warmth.
She couldn't help but be struck by the reality of him standing before her. "And I have to say," Y/N continued, her cheeks gaining a tinge of pink, "you're even more handsome in person. Your photo didn't do you justice."
Steve's surprise transformed into a bashful grin. "Well, thank you, Y/N. I guess photos can only capture so much."
As Steve and Y/N walked through the quiet, snow-covered streets, the city lights casting a soft glow around them, a comfortable silence settled between them. But as they strolled side by side, admiring the winter scenery, both seemed to have the same thought simultaneously.
"I can't believe you're real," Steve chuckled, breaking the quietude with an incredulous smile.
Y/N, with a twinkle in her eye, responded almost simultaneously, "I was beginning to think you weren't real."
Steve couldn't help but find himself captivated by her presence. The soft glow of the city lights reflected in her eyes, and the winter air had given her cheeks a rosy hue that enhanced her beauty.
He found himself subtly stealing glances at her, admiring the way the snowflakes danced around her, creating a whimsical aura. A sense of awe overcame him as he realised that she was even more stunning in person than he could have imagined from their online interactions.
The jealousy, however, was an unexpected emotion that stirred within him. As the snow delicately touched Y/N's hair and cheek, a pang of envy crept in. He couldn't help but wish he were the one experiencing that intimate connection with her, he wished he could touch her softly like the way the snowflakes softly grazed her skin.
The snow continued to fall gently as Steve and Y/N meandered through the winter-clad city, their footsteps creating soft imprints on the sidewalk. There was an unspoken warmth between them, an acknowledgment of the connection that had transcended pixels and screens. Y/N, with a genuine smile, finally broke the companionable silence.
"I'm really happy you came to see me, Steve. It means a lot."
Steve returned her smile, feeling a sense of contentment at her words. "I'm glad I did too, It's even better meeting you in person."
They continued their stroll until they stumbled upon a small, quaint bar nestled between taller buildings. The inviting glow from its windows and the muffled sounds of laughter hinted at an intimate and cozy atmosphere. With a shared look, they decided to step inside and escape the winter chill.
As they entered, the warmth enveloped them, accompanied by the comforting hum of conversations. The bar was small, with dim lighting casting a soft ambiance. The walls were adorned with vintage photographs, and a scattering of mismatched wooden tables and chairs created an eclectic yet charming vibe. A fireplace in the corner added to the snug feel, crackling with a gentle warmth that contrasted with the cold outside.
Y/N and Steve found a cozy corner table, the flickering candlelight creating an intimate space for them. They ordered drinks, and as the evening progressed, the connection between them deepened. Laughter and shared stories filled the air, weaving a tapestry of memories that belonged to their first real-life encounter.
“Robin was worried you’d be some creepy old man. But nope you’re definitely…not” he stuttered.
“I hope you’re not disappointed Stevie.” Y/N said blushing.
However, as the evening unfolded, Y/N couldn't ignore the subtle flirtation from their waitress. A friendly smile here, an extra linger there—it was all harmless, but the possessiveness that had surfaced earlier resurfaced. She watched as the waitress chatted with Steve, a twinge of jealousy knotting in her stomach. Y/N, not wanting to spoil the mood, chose to keep her unease to herself.
The waitress, with a playful wink, handed Steve his drink and left them to their own devices. Y/N took a sip of her own drink, trying to shake off the unwarranted jealousy. It was irrational, she knew, but the unfamiliarity of navigating these emotions in person added a layer of complexity.
As the night unfolded, the effects of the drinks began to seep into Steve's senses. The dim lights and ambient hum of conversations merged into a slightly hazy symphony. Steve, ever the charming conversationalist, found himself a bit more unrestrained, the laughter a touch louder, the smiles a bit wider.
Steve couldn't shake the warmth that spread through him, both from the alcohol and the genuine connection he was building with her. The conversation flowed effortlessly, but in the midst of the laughter a singular thought began to dominate his mind – the desire to kiss Y/N.
As each moment passed, that longing intensified. The soft glow of the bar lights seemed to highlight Y/N's features, and he found himself captivated by the way her eyes sparkled with every smile. The alcohol acted as a catalyst, amplifying the magnetic pull that drew him toward her.
“So what have you been up to before you met me then honey?”
“Nothing really just last bits of Christmas shopping and getting things ready. I hope you like the gift I got you.” she said grinning from ear to ear, the slight scrunch of her nose making Steve blush.
“I’ll love anything you have for me. Because you bought it.” he slightly slurred.
In the midst of a particularly amusing story Y/N was sharing about her run in with her neighbour, Steve's focus wavered. His gaze lingered on her lips, and a subtle flush crept up his cheeks. The desire to taste the warmth of her laughter on his lips became a tantalizing distraction, creating an undercurrent of tension in the air. The mulled wine that she had been drinking throughout the night tinted her lips Ruby red. He wondered if they tasted like cinnamon.
Steve couldn't escape the persistent yearning. With every shared joke and exchanged glance, the gravitational force pulling him closer to Y/N intensified. The gentle brush of her hand against his, the soft laughter that seemed to dance around them – it all fueled the intoxicating desire that had taken root.
He excused himself for a moment, heading to the bar to grab another round of drinks. The cool air outside the bathroom helped clear his head momentarily, but as he returned to the table, the allure of Y/N pulled him back into the mesmerizing orbit.
As he sat back down, the air seemed charged with a palpable tension. Y/N, unaware of the internal struggle within Steve, continued to share stories, her laughter becoming a melody that resonated in his intoxicated mind.
Steve's gaze, now more intense, bore into Y/N's eyes. In that moment, the bar, the laughter, and the conversations faded into the background. All he could think about was the magnetic pull drawing him closer, the yearning to bridge the gap and feel the connection with a kiss.
Yet, a small voice in the back of Steve's mind urged caution. The line between desire and respect for the budding connection was a delicate one. He tried to anchor himself, aware that the alcohol might be clouding his judgment.
As the night wore on, the push and pull of desire and restraint created a dance of emotions. Steve, caught in the throes of intoxication and longing, grappled with the question of whether to act on the impulse or let the night unfold naturally.
The animated banter that had characterized their evening had given way to a subtle quietness, leaving Y/N to wonder if Steve regretted his decision to come and see her.
"Steve, is everything okay?" Y/N inquired, her voice soft against the distant hum of conversations. "You've been a bit quiet. Like in your head a lot. You’re not regretting anything are you?"
Steve's eyes gleamed mischievously as he glanced at the jukebox, a silent promise of changing the mood. "Regret? Honey not a chance. I’m just feeling festive is all."
“You mean drunk.” She laughed.
As if responding to Steve's unspoken cue, the jukebox started playing "Fairytale of New York.", the festive notes filled the air, momentarily distracting Y/N from her worries. However, Steve's true intention became evident as a broad grin spread across his face.
"Come on, Y/N! Let's dance!" Steve declared, his enthusiasm contagious.
Y/N, initially puzzled by the unexpected change in direction, found herself caught up in Steve's infectious spirit. As they stood up, Steve began singing the lyrics with gusto, his voice resonating through the bar.
“Came in eighteen to one, I've got a feeling, This year's for me and you…”
The chorus approached, and Steve, fueled by both festive spirit and perhaps a bit of liquid courage, pulled Y/N into an impromptu dance. The bar's patrons, initially taken aback, soon joined in the merriment, clapping along to the spirited rhythm of the song.
“All the drunks they were singing, We kissed on a corner, Then danced through the night.”
“Wow I guess the drunks are singing aren’t they Stevie” she laughed.
“We’ll yanno I’m with a beautiful girl what more could I want?” He said shooting a grin that made her melt.
Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine joy on Steve's face. His carefree demeanor and the way he effortlessly brought a festive spirit to the bar painted a picture of someone who cherished the simple pleasures of life.
As Steve twirled her around the small space, Y/N's initial worries melted away. The laughter, the music, and the shared dance created a moment that felt like a respite from the uncertainties that sometimes accompany new connections.
In that moment, Y/N knew in her head and heart that Steve was special. It wasn't just about the spontaneous dance or the infectious laughter – it was the way he embraced the unexpected, turning a quiet moment into a lively celebration. The genuine joy he found in simple moments painted him as someone who appreciated the warmth of connection, someone who brought a touch of magic to the ordinary.
“And the bells are ringing out, For Christmas Day.”
As the song reached its crescendo, Steve leaned in close, his grin undiminished. "You see, Y/N, no room for regrets here. Just good music, great company, and a bit of holiday magic. What more could we want on our first date?"
Y/N, caught in the twirl of the dance and the enchantment of the night, couldn't help but reciprocate Steve's infectious smile. The worries that had lingered earlier in her mind if Steve wasn’t who he said he was was replaced by a growing sense of admiration for the person who, in the midst of the ordinary, had revealed himself to be truly extraordinary.
With a spark of boldness, Y/N, on her tippy toes, closed the gap between them. The lively hum of the bar faded into the background as their eyes locked in a silent exchange, and in that moment, it felt as if time itself bowed to the intimacy unfolding.
Y/N's lips, soft and warm, gently met Steve's in a delicate dance. The initial contact sent a ripple of sensation through both of them, a subtle exploration that spoke of a connection that had been building throughout the night. The taste of holiday spirits lingered in the air, adding a subtle layer to the kiss. Steve’s lips were soft and tasted like the whisky he’d been sipping throughout the night.
As their lips melded in a tender embrace, the world outside the two of them blurred into insignificance. The notes of the jukebox played on, providing a melodic backdrop to this private exchange. Y/N's fingers found their way to intertwine with Steve's, creating an unspoken bridge that conveyed a sense of shared intimacy.
Noses smashed together as the kiss deepened, a testament to the genuine emotion and hunger that flowed between them. It wasn't just a physical meeting of lips but a fusion of unspoken desires and a recognition of something special. The ambiance of the bar, once filled with the laughter and chatter of a lively crowd, now felt like a sacred space reserved solely for the two of them.
With each passing moment, the kiss became a sensory exploration. In the midst of the kiss, Steve became acutely aware of the subtle nuances – the way Y/N's lips responded to his, the playful dance of their tongues, and the ebb and flow of their shared breaths.
Y/N could feel the beating of Steve's heart, a steady drum that echoed the shared anticipation and excitement of the night.
As they eventually parted, the quiet exchange of glances spoke volumes. A shared smile illuminated their faces, carrying the weight of unspoken promises and the magic of a connection that had blossomed unexpectedly.
Steve wished that he was no longer in this bar with her. He wished he could be alone with her, to show her how beautiful she really is to him. He thought to himself whatever happens after tonight he’d never forget how soft her tongue felt against his and how beautiful she looked under the soft glow of the fairy lights.
The jukebox continued its festive serenade, and the ambient glow of fairy lights bathed them in a gentle radiance. The kiss, more than a fleeting moment in a crowded bar, would lead to became a defining chapter in their shared story – a testament to the chemistry, understanding, and the promise of more shared moments yet to unfold.
“Well Merry Christmas honey..” Steve whispered.
“Merry Christmas Stevie, I’m so glad you’re here…” she giggled.
Tagging my loves @ghostlyfleur @forevermoreharrington @stevesxyellowxsweater @munsonsreputation @palmtreesx3 @hopsgirl @jadeylovesmarvelxo @seatnights
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hllfireclb · 1 year
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+18 mdni
I Love Steve Harrington so much.
He‘s literally the definition of broken but still perfect. That man is the most handsome man ever, after the break up with Nancy a few years ago, he has totally changed. He‘s caring, emphatic, kind, loving, still got his own sense of humor but knows when to stop because he sees you feel uncomfortable and he immediately apologizes (just like he did with Dustin in the car <33). Steve can be rough as hell, when the two of you fuck and he totally loves seeing you fall apart beneath him. But what he desires the most, is the slow and passionate sex with you. The sex when he‘s buried so deep inside you, that there‘s a small hump in your lower abdomen. The sex where he can feel every single move of yours while his lips are attached to your body and leave marks everywhere. You‘re whining his name, hands groping his hair and back when his one hand starts playing with your clit.
"I know, I know Baby..I am close too. Let’s cum together yeah? You‘ll let me cum inside right? I‘m gonna breed you real, real good"
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masterlist
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lokiandbuckysdoll · 1 year
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The Dress
Requested By @sarahrogersevans “ I had a smut request with the reader being with both Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan and also fluffing too afterwards with after care 😊xx if that’s an ok one???” 
Paring: Stucky x Reader
Word Count: 1K+ 
Dividers: @firefly-graphics
Warings: SMUT!, Safe Word used!, Aftercare, Fluff! ( i think that's all but let me know if i missed something)
A/n: I do not write RPF! So I made it stucky. i hope you like it.
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The moment you had left the tower for a girls night out with Nat and Wanda,  you knew when you got back you'd be in trouble by your two men.  When you were trying to figure out what to wear for the night, a certain dress in your wardrobe caught your eye.  
 You’d only ever worn this dress for special occasions, it was one of your favorites that Bucky and Steve had gifted you. You loved the silk satin material and the way it fit your figure perfectly while giving a small highlight to your chest area. 
 It also highlighted another asset to your body that Steve and Bucky loved, that's why they bought it for you in the first place. 
Whenever you did get to wear this dress it riled them up, you knew that the second you decided to wear it out tonight. You liked to tease them and get them worked up knowing the consequences that would follow.  
So girls night came and went on, you laughed, had a few drinks and danced. Nat even flirted a little with the bartender to get some free drinks. Overall it was a good girls night out just having fun and catching up with Nat and Wanda.  
As soon as your fun night ended with  the girls and you were back at the tower, that was when the real fun could begin. The elevator in the tower took you directly to your shared apartment floor. 
Right as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, Bukcy was quick to pull you out and corner you in the hallway that led to the bedroom.  
“ You're in trouble bunny” Bucky's voice whispers into your ear sending a chill down your spine, he pressed himself up against your backside making your front collide with Steve's broad chest. 
“Wearing this dress knowing what it does to us” his voice had a tone of authority as he lifted one of the dress straps to snap it against your skin. The action immediately making you wet.  
“ Aww stevie look, she's already getting  wet and the fun hasn’t even begun”  Bucky then began to kiss down your neck, his hands slowly moving to untie the back part of the dress. 
The action alone pulled a small moan from between your slightly parted lips, causing Steve to simply smile. His right hand moved to tilt your chin upward  “ You are in for a long night” he whispered as he inched closer to your face, admiring the look on it before placing a kiss to your lips. 
Everything happened in the blink of an eye, one moment you were caught up in a heated kiss with Steve. That you didn't even register that Bucky had  successfully removed your dress. It wasn't until Steve pulled away from the kiss and asked if you were cold he could see your nipples hardened through your bra.  
Next thing you knew you were being carried away to the bedroom. Steve laid you down on the bed and Bucky was all to be quick to help you remove your bra and panites. Just like that the fun began. 
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Steve and Bucky were both giving you punishment and pleasure at the same time. Together they over drove your body into a blissful haze. Pulling you closer and closer to your climax, then quickly stopping their actions on you and leaving you there as they pleasure each other.  
They were very attentive and soon gave you the release you needed and wanted after having you beg for it of course. They didn’t stop there though you were about to have your Third climax of the night when the pleasure became all  too much for you. 
You were currently on top of Bucky as he was thrusting in and out of you at a steady yet fast pace, Steve was behind you doing the same. One pulled out as the other thrusted in creating a rhyme. You were close but you couldn’t take it anymore because your body was getting tired. 
“ I- Stevie, jamie i- I can’t” you moaned breathlessly. Bucky unhooked his hand that was holding yours to examine your face. You locked eyes with him and said the word you thought you never would say. You said your safe word.  Steve and Bucky stop their actions immediately. 
After saying it your orgasm hit you and shocked your whole body. You fell forward shaking in Bucky's arms, not noticing how Steve had already slowly pulled out of you to lay next to you and  Bucky.  
“It’s okay, shh we got you doll” bucky carefully rubbed your back trying to gently calm you down. Steve pushed the hair that stuck your sweaty face back. “ You did so good for us” he cooed, kissing your forehead. You gave him a faint  smile trying to fully understand and comprehend what's happening while in  your orgasmic bliss.  
 Once you were fully calmed down, bucky told you he was going to pull out, you whined at the feeling. “I know,  I’m sorry” he kissed your forehead. You three laid there for a few minutes before Steve asked if you wanted to rest a little more or  have a bath.  
You opted for the bath, they carefully helped you into the water once it was ready. The warmness of the water immediately helps your sore and aching muscles. Steve sat behind you as Bucky sat in front of you.  
Silence filled the bathroom as all three of you just sat there relaxing. It wasn't until you whispered an “I'm sorry” that was barely audible if it weren't for their super soldier hearing. Steve and Bucky  both shared a look with each other, wondering why you would be sorry. 
“ What are you sorry for?” Steve questioned as he wrapped his arms around your middle and placed his chin on your exposed shoulder. You looked up into Bucky’s eyes and grabbed his Vibranium hand  as you spoke. 
“ I don’t know, I just feel like I disappointed you two because I said the safe word”  You quickly looked down in shame, but Bucky was quicker and stopped your movement to lift your chin so you could look at him.  
“ Never feel ashamed or disappointed  that you had to use a safe word during sex. Okay? Do you understand?” His eyes held a serious stare as well as his words, yet his voice came out soft spoken.  
“ Do you want to talk about what made you say it?” he asked, holding your hand  slightly tighter in his grip. You are hesitant to speak but Steve gives your shoulder a kiss as   encouragement. 
“ My body was just getting tired, and I honestly didn’t want to say it in case you’d get mad”  you don't know why but  you felt the need to cry. This time Steve kissed your cheek before he spoke. “ We made a safe word in order for all of us to feel safe with one another. Including you,  it's completely okay that you said it. ” He kissed your cheek again. 
“ We would never get mad at you, your safety is our priority” Bucky gave your hand a gentle kiss. You just hummed in response as you leaned back in Steve's embrace just enjoying the moment. They soon help you clean off and get changed into your sleepwear.    
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Once all three of you are cleaned and  are relaxing in bed, you take their hands and kiss them. “ I love you both so much” you smile. They both wrap their arms around you, Steve moves your head towards him to place a delicate kiss to your lips. Bucky does the same after him. “ we love you too, more than anything” this time you kiss them both. 
You adjust your body to snuggle up with the two loves of your life. Just as you're about to drift off into sleep Bucky speaks. “ Stevie she’s never wearing that dress out again” he smirks knowing you could still hear them. 
“Oh most definitely she's never wearing it again” You playfully elbow Bucky in his stomach and then go to hit Steve in his chest. Both of them fake as if they really got hurt  “ouch!” they say in sync. 
“ Keep talking and you won't see the lingerie set Nat helped  me pick out” you mumble already string to doze off. They both smirk. 
 “Will see about that,” Steve whispered as Him and Bucky both gave you one last kiss to your head before  pulling the covers over all three of you to sleep for the night.
~~~~ 
Taglist: @vbecker10 @nana1000night @hannibals-favourite-meal @imyourbratzdoll @springdandelixn @missvelvetsstuff​
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jjwantsme · 1 year
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vanilla cherry bomb
s.h
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pairing: steve harrington x girlfriend!reader
summary: in which he gets addicted to her taste
warnings: kissing obv, nsfw references, this is set during summer of ‘85 but before they found out about the russians, SCOOPS AHOY STEEB WHO CHEERED, way too much fluff,, lmk if i missed anything:)<3
authors note: i adore this sm. Let me know if you want a part two of when stuff starts going down. I love steves uniform :,)
masterlist
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“Ahoy, my lady! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, my name is robin. What can i get you?” Robin exclaimed, grinning at the familiar-faced girl in front of her.
“I know who you are, robin,” Y/n giggled. She had grown fond of Robin from the few weeks of her working with steve. “Is steve here yet?”
“Yeah, yeah, he’s around back,” Robin clarified, nodding her heads towards the door that led back there. “Thanks!” Y/n chirped and started heading that way, not wanting to distract robin from her real customers.
“You back here, lover boy?” Y/n called out as she closed the door behind her, though it wasn’t long before she could feel steve kissing all around her face.
“What are you doing here? I thought you said you were going out with Camila,” Steve furrowed his eyebrows but kept the smile on his face, cupping hers with both of his hands.
“Called me, said she was sick,” y/n let out a giggle when she felt steve drop more than a few kisses onto her forehead, “so i thought i’d come visit my steve.”
"𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 steve, huh?”
“Yup! My steve.” Y/n grinned, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the little wooden table he was previously sitting at.
“I’m glad you came, actually, because i have a little surprise for you,” steve smirked, pulling out her chair before sitting down.
“A surprise, hm?” Y/n giggled, resting her chin on the palm of her hand.
Steve grinned and pulled out two pieces of paper that y/n couldn’t quite read. She looked closer and saw…oh my god, no way!
“Stevie!” She gasped, sitting up to grab the tickets and examine them, “You got tickets to ‘Tears For Fears’?!”
“They’re your favorite artist, i had to get them for you,” he chuckled.
“Oh my god, stevie, thank you!” Y/n squeled, giving him a tight hug before pulling away to plant a kiss on his lips.
Y/n and steve had only been dating for 2 months, and it was pure bliss. Steve knew that they were still in the ‘honeymoon’ phase, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care when she was the best thing that ever happened to him.
When they met, he never imagined them getting this far. She was definitely out of his league, in his opinion. She didn’t come from much, growing up poor in East Hawkins, but she was still the most positive person he had ever met. She knew how to light up a room without even trying.
A part of steve didn’t want to date her because of how chaotic his life was. Even apart from alternate dimensions and creepy monsters, he had two snobby parents to worry about, and he didn’t know if he would be able to protect her purity from all of it.
If it wasn’t for Eleven closing the gate last year, he definitely wouldn’t have risked it. (Boy, is he in for a treat!)
But, the last two months have been even better than he imagined, and he didn’t regret the tiniest bit of it.
Steve pulled away from the kiss with wide eyes, “holy, shit,”
He went back in for another one, making y/n laugh but furrow her eyebrows and pull away, “what is it?”
“Your lips,” he paused to peck them, “taste so good.”
Y/n laughed and shook her head, “Ah, my lips, huh?”
Steve nodded and leaned in to kiss her again, putting his hand around her neck softly as his lips synced with hers.
Physical affection had always been a big thing in their relationship, but kissing especially.
Y/n swore steve kissed more than he talked.
She loved it, though, it reminds her that he truly does find her beautiful, and unlike most people, he still invested in her personality as well.
On their one month anniversary, he took her virginity and let her read her favorite book to him moments after, whispering sweet-nothings in her ear.
Saying how much he adores her, how perfect she is, and how much he loves listening to her read romance.
What a guy, am i right?
“Steve, stevie,” y/n breathed, pulling away as steve kept hissing down her cheek onto her neck, “you know you’ve got to get back to work, can’t leave robin like that,”
“Just one more minute,” he mumbled against her neck.
“Stevie.” Y/n spoke sternly, although it was still adorable in steve’s eyes.
He groaned and pulled away from her neck, pouting a little. Although his pout turned into a smile when she ran her fingers through his hair.
“I gotta go, anyways, I promised my mom that I’d watch my sister today.”
Ah, angela. Steve’s self-proclaimed best friend.
“Tell them i said hi, yeah?” He proposed, smiling and kissing her head when she nodded.
“Alright,” she pecked his lips, “bye, baby.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” steve stopped her from walking away by swooping an arm around her waist.
“Yeah?”
“What chapstick flavor are you wearing?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Vanilla cherry bomb.” She tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”
“So that i can stock up on em.”
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justmeinadaze · 29 days
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Secret Underneath (Steddie X Plus Size You)
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"She's got a secret underneath (she's got a secret underneath) Yeah, she's his naughty little freak (yeah, she's his naughty, little freak) She likes to put on a show (she likes to put on a show) She likes when he takes control (she likes when he takes control)"
A/N: This came from utter annoyance at men online and just desperately trying to find a confident man who cares.
ENJOY!
Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, daddy kink (cause im me), blindfold, toys, voyeurism (I guess. They watch her pleasure herself on cam), dirty talk. Sub/dom dynamics, oh um age difference even though its not mentioned (guys are about mid to late 30s and Reader is in her mid to late 20s)
ANGST, Reader is assaulted by an ex (mentioned but not expanded on) boys comfort her, mentions of her wanting to be held and tired of feeling lonely, guys online try to flirt in the beginning but she shuts them down. I think that's it. Cliffhanger ending because again...Im me.
Word Count: 5555 (ooooo :P)
“I can take care of a young little thing like you. You’re perfect”
“If I’m perfect why do I need someone to take care of me?”
“Do you want to help Daddy finish, baby? My big hard cock needs some help.”
“Oof a real Daddy doesn’t need to announce how big his cock is. Try again, little boy.”
“I bet a little girl like you needs to be put in her fucking place, you stupid fucking slut. Now get naked and send me nudes or else.”
You role your eyes as you promptly block the person who sent you the message. When you signed up for this sugar baby website you were hopeful to find someone who wasn’t like the “men” you had talked to on regular dating apps. You wanted someone who knew what they were doing, confident, and could handle your sass without running. 
You had met a few who could live up to the title but none you wanted to keep around long term. 
Sliding your mouse through the images, you found a profile that intrigued you. The image attached wasn’t of one man but two and it didn’t show their faces. It wasn’t odd for the Babies to want anonymity like yourself but your profile picture at least showed all of you in your curvy glory with a mask blocking your eyes and lingerie blocking everything else. Daddies always felt the need to show off so usually their profile images accentuated their faces and/or their money.
These two, with an account named Mogul/Rockstar, were only photographed from the neck down and it was definitely a picture they took, not some professional or anything like that. The man on the left had a black, well fitted suit with his admittedly gorgeous hands holding a glass of whiskey. The man on the right was a bit less put together with torn jeans and a blue jean vest over his bare chest just barely blocking the tattoos that peaked out. You assume he must have long hair because the ends of wavy locks rested on his shoulders.
When most men reached out to you it was with some silly pick-up line or innuendo. This profile, however, simply sent you one word; “Hello.”
(8:45pm) “Hey there. Not much for words?”
(8:47pm) “We imagine you’ve heard them all. : ). “
(8:48pm) “Are you really two people? Or do you just have an extra ego?”
(8:48pm) “Oh or let me guess! Your dick is so big it counts as another person.
(8:50pm) “I mean my friend IS a big dick but lol”
(8:51pm) “Yeah, honey, it’s really two people. We like to be clear about that. Any Baby that becomes ours would be just that; ours. 
(8:53pm) “We’ve learned pretty quickly not many women feel comfortable with two Daddies which is absolutely fine and why we are up front.”
(8:54pm) “How up front are you being really when you don’t show your face?”
(8:55pm) “Hm. Not a yes girl. I like that. It’s good to ask questions. 
(8:57pm) “We do that for a couple of reasons. One being we are well known faces so we don’t want a Baby to choose us solely on that.”
(8:57pm) “Because you don’t want to be embarrassed?”
(9:00pm) “Asking questions is good. Interrupting isn’t. Don’t do it again.”
(9:01pm) “Or what?”
(9:08pm) “Or what, huh?”
(9:15pm) “Fuck you! Ignoring isn’t very Daddy like!”
(9:16pm) “Oh? Did little baby get her feelings hurt? We don’t ignore as punishments but you aren’t ours yet, sweetheart. If you don’t want to follow any rules that’s fine. We can just continue looking and you can be a brat with someone else.”
(9:18pm) “I’m sorry.”
(9:19pm) “What’s the other reason?”
(9:22pm) “Actually, that’s the biggest reason. Our fame gets in the way of a lot of things if you can believe it. Expectations are ruined and certain ideals are put in place.”
(9:23pm) “My reputation as a rockstar makes some ladies think I can’t be soft and I definitely can. Our image isn’t solely who we are.”
(9:25pm) “I can understand that. Being a bigger girl people think I’m either desperate or my weight becomes a fetish to them. Which, I mean, fetishes are fine but men make me feel like…it’s the ONLY reason they are sexually attracted to me.”
(9:26pm) “And not because of your personality. Yeah…”
(9:28pm) “Is that why you’re a bit of a brat? Lol need to weed out the idiots?”
(9:30pm) “Something like that. Lol.”
(9:32pm) “Baby, I think my friend and I are in agreement that we’d like to try this out if you’re willing. You don’t have to see us or do anything you don’t want. Per the anonymity that was mentioned, we aren’t going to give our names so you don’t have too either. We also won’t be showing our faces so, again, you don’t have to.”
(9:33pm) “More than anything, we just want someone to look out for and talk to. Maybe make you feel good from time to time if you let us.”
(9:35pm) “Ok, Daddy.”
(9:36pm) “Good. Good girl. : ). We can talk on here until the three of us get more comfortable and then we can give you our numbers so you can talk to us there or individually. As you can imagine, rockstar travels a lot and so do I for deals so we aren’t always together 24/7.”
(9:40pm) “Are you both friends or partners?”
(9:42pm) “Friends for sure.”
(9:43pm) “Ok, baby girl, we’ll let you go but we’ll talk to you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”
(9:45pm) “Good night, Daddy.”
(9:46pm) “*Daddies”
(9:48pm) “Good night, honey.”
(9:48pm) “Sweet dreams, princess.”
As you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t help but wonder who they could be. You did some quick googling of businessmen who were friends with rockstars but that was stupid because that was a very common friendship found within industries. Rolling over, you plugged in your phone to charge it, pausing when you heard it ding.
Mogul/Rockstar deposited $300 into your account!!
Wow. No man had ever sent you that much just for an introductory conversation. Maybe because it was two of them they felt the need? As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself getting more and more curious about them, dreaming of possibilities that may come to be.
############
That first month went by a lot smoother than you expected it to when it came to this account. They were incredibly kind and genuinely seemed to care about your day and what you were up to. Any time you voiced any kind of concern, they listened and did what they could. For example, you wished you could tell who was responding when since at the moment they replied as one. A few minutes later Rockstar changed his text to be red so you knew you were talking to him. 
When it came to finances, they were more than generous, giving you a set amount of $500 at the end of each day. They never once asked for anything sexual or made innuendos about their bodies or yours. 
As the second month began however you found yourself getting antsy.
(6:42pm) “May I ask a question?”
(6:43pm) “Yeah, of course, anything, honey.”
(6:45pm) “Can we do something…I mean can you help me…”
(6:46pm) “We can help with anything, princess. You just have to ask like a big girl.”
(6:47pm) “Can you…help me cum…”
(6:47pm) “Please, Daddy.”
(6:48pm) “We can do that for you, pretty girl. If you want. You remember the rules?”
(6:48pm) “Yes, Daddy.”
(6:49pm) “You don’t even have to turn on your camera or mic or anything. You can just…watch me.”
(6:50pm) “We never do anything we don’t want to do.”
(6:51pm) “But we would love to watch you cum. Do you have toys or were you just going to use your fingers?”
(6:53pm) “I have toys, Daddy.”
(6:54pm) “I actually just got this rabbit vibrator but I have no idea how to use it.”
(6:57pm) Mogul/ Rockstar has invited you for a video chat.
Biting your bottom lip, you grab your mask and pull it over your eyes, checking your appearance in the camera box before clicking their link. The camera box was still just their image from the site which you expected but was pleasantly surprised when a husky voice flowed through your speakers. 
“Hey, honey. You don’t have to turn your mic on if you don’t want to. We just thought it would be fair since you’re about to vulnerable with us.”
You smiled as you turned on your microphone. 
“Is it vulnerable? It’s just…masturbating right?”
“I mean, are you playing with yourself on the internet for just anyone?”
The second voice that followed through sounded extremely familiar as if you heard it somewhere before. It was incredibly sexy none the less. 
“No.”
“Then I would say you’re being vulnerable, babe. Jesus, you are really beautiful by the way.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”, you beam.
“Can we ask why shorts and an oversized shirt? Most women wear the lingerie or a bra and panties.”
“Or are totally naked.”
“I just want to be comfortable. I’m not roaming around my house in a bra and panties.”, you giggle. “I take those off as soon as I get home from work.”
“Very fair. We’ve never asked what you do. Do you feel comfortable telling us?”
“I’m a teacher. Another reason for said anonymity.”
“Again fair.”
“Um, may I ask, whose voice is whose?”
“Yeah, pretty girl. I’m the Mogul.”
“I’m the rockstar.”
Smiling, you nod but you find yourself completely unsure of how to proceed. Usually, you could play innocent and do what you needed in the bedroom but something about these men were making you…
“Honey, are we making you a little nervous?”, Mogul asked in a sweet tone. 
“Yeah a little bit. I’m sorry.”
“No reason to be sorry, sweetheart. Can you do your Daddies a favor and show us the toy you got?”
Like a little kid in a store, your smile grew as you opened the box by your feet and produced the pink vibrator, displaying it for them to see.
“Is that your favorite kind of toy?”
“Usually men are but—” You quickly covered your mouth with your palm not meaning to let your sass slip out like that. Again, you were surprised when you heard both men laugh.
“I like that sassy attitude.”
“The confidence to.”, Mogul adds. “Don’t cover up that personality for us, baby girl. We’re big boys. We can handle it.”
“Most men can’t.”
“Most men aren’t us.”
“That’s for damn sure.”, you smirk as your thighs rub together. 
“Why don’t you take off those short for us, sweetheart?”, Rockstar suggests as you nod, rising from your chair to bring them down and toss them aside. “Good girl. Can you open your legs for us so we can see that pretty pussy?”
Licking your lips, you close your eyes as your open your legs giving them a good view. 
“Open your eyes, baby girl, and don’t move them from the camera.”, Mogul commands in a firm tone. “Jesus, man. I bet she tastes really fucking sweet.”
“And is really fucking tight. That toy is going to stretch you out I bet.”
You moan at their words as you tease your slit with the end of the vibrator.
“I wish you both were here to help me.”, you whine as you palm slides under your shirt to massage your breast. 
“Go ahead, honey. Push it into your cunt and tell us how it feels.”
Mewling, you easily guide it inside of you, the subtle vibration against your clit driving you crazy.
“Fuck, it feels so good, Daddy.”
“Yeah, princess? Fuck, I’ve never wanted to eat a pussy so bad in my life. Look at her. I just want her to ride my face till she cums over and over.”
“Fuck…yes.”
“You’d like that, baby? Make a mess all over Rockstar’s face.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Such a dirty little girl. Can you say it for us?”
“I’m…I’m a dirty girl. Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good inside of me.”
“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so fucking sexy. Make yourself cum.”
“Can I, Daddy? Please. I’m so close.”
“Yeah, sweetheart. You have our permission.”
Your body shook as you came, your hips grinding against the toy as you elongated your high. 
“Good girl, honey. Very good. Come back to us.”
“Th-thank you. Thank you.”, you grin as you bite your lip. “Wait, did you guys cum? I wanna hear it.”
“This was about you, babe. We didn’t touch ourselves.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that we’re really fucking hard though after that display.”, Rockstar laughed.
“Are you serious? You guys didn’t…at all. Most men do.”
The image in their camera box suddenly changes and their laps from the waist down come into your view. Both men were wearing shorts and you could vaguely see their bulges poking through. Their hands were gorgeous, one littered with rings that you assumed belonged to the rockstar. 
“Again…we aren’t most men.”
“Don’t make us have to remind you again.”
Nodding, you softly apologize as you lean back in your chair.
“What’s wrong, baby? Are you pouting?”, Mogul asks in a tone that makes you smile. 
“Not really. I just…I wish you could hold me.”
“Yeah…yeah, princess, we wish we could to.”
“Will you ever trust me enough to show me your faces?”
You listen as they heavily sigh.
“Maybe. Let’s just take this one step at a time, ok?”
After your good nights and lying in bed alone, you don’t know why but you begin to cry. You had been alone for so long, broken hearted from the bullshit your ex put you through. You loved what the site offered but you wondered if that momentary high would be enough to sustain you. You just wanted someone who would hold you and tell you everything was alright. Someone who would take care of you and make you feel safe so you didn’t have to worry anymore about…everything. 
As your phone dinged, you glanced at the notification that illuminated your screen. 
Mogul/Rockstar deposited $2000 into your account!!
Hardening your heart, you reminded yourself that you were strong, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as you forced yourself to sleep. 
##############
(6:15pm) “Hey beautiful. What are your plans tonight? Rockstar and I were thinking maybe the three of us could have a camera date and just talk. Nothing sexual.”
(6:17pm) “You don’t have to of course.”
(6:20pm) “Sweetheart, you know how we feel about you not answering.”
(6:25pm) “Shit, you guys. I’m so sorry. I was charging my phone while I was getting ready! I actually have plans tonight.”
(6:27pm) “Ooo that sounds like fun. Spending some time with friends?”
(6:29pm) “Not exactly lol My ex actually invited me to dinner so we could talk about some things.”
(6:30pm) “You’re going on a date?”
(6:32pm) “Um, I guess you can call it that.”
(6:32pm) “Is that a problem?”
(6:33pm) “We made it clear that if you agreed to be our Baby you would be ours.”
(6:34pm) “Virtually, yes, but the information and rules you gave me didn’t say I couldn’t go out on a date. 
(6:35pm) “What. Did you think I was just going to be ok with not knowing who you two were and never having you two fuck me or hold me. 
(6:35pm) “To not go on actual dates and feel wanted.
(6:36pm) “Needed.”
(6:38pm) “Didn’t realize you needed everything spelled out for you. Relationships take time. Like you we imagine, we’ve been burned before. We don’t want another whore who’s only dating us for our money or status. We deal with fake people enough!”
(6:39pm) “We like talking to you and you’re so beautiful. We WANT to see where this goes but if you’re in that much of a rush maybe this was a bad idea.”
This Baby is currently offline. You may leave messages for her and she will get this when she logs back in!!
***
(9:32pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude has invited you for a video chat!!
(9:34pm) Mogul/Rockstar declined your invitation for a video chat.
(9: 35pm) “Please…I need you…”
(9:38pm) “Now you need us? After your date I’m thinking didn’t go well since it’s 9:30.”
(9:39pm) “Try again, little girl. We aren’t the kind of men you use whenever you feel like.”
(9:41pm) “We have feelings to.”
(9:45pm) “What? No sassy come back? Nothing sarcastic you want to say?”
(9:50pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!!
“Jesus Christ. What happened, baby?!”
When you illuminated their screen, you were a complete mess. Your hair was frayed every which way and even under the mask covering your eyes they could tell your make up was smeared from tears. Your black dress that you had worn was torn at the sleeve, hanging down as you held it together with your hand. 
“Did that fucker hurt you?”, Rockstar growled. 
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who to call. I’m so sorry, Daddy. I should have stayed here with you. I’m just so tired of feeling lonely. As soon as that fucker showed me even a little bit of attention I just…”
You listened as they mumbled to each other, unable to make out what they were saying as you dried your tears with your fist. 
“We’re in New York right now. Are you close to that state?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Do you trust us? Say it.”, Mogul replies sternly when you nod.
“Yes, I trust you.”
“There’s a hotel outside of the city. I’ll message you the address and room number. You follow the instructions we give you to the letter. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
***
“Hi, um, I’m checking into a room…under, um, Baby Girl.”
You cringe as you relay the information but all the young lady does behind the hotel counter is beam over at you as she types on her computer. 
“Ah and here’s your key. Do you need an escort or anything?”
“Oh, uh, no, ma’am, thank you.”
“No problem! The gentleman said he would be right there.”
You glanced around you nervously as you rode the glass elevator up to the floor your room was at. You appreciated that they didn’t make you go to some run-down Bates Motel but you were still a bit on edge. 
Heading for the door, you paused taking a deep breath before putting in the key and slowly entering the room. It was a modest little room but lived up to its five-star rating just on looks alone. Shifting your gaze, you realized quickly you were alone but noticed a note with the words “Baby Girl” on the mattress. 
Lifting it up, you found a black silk eye mask one would use for sleeping folded underneath. 
“Please place this mask over your eyes and we will be right in. 
We know it took a lot of trust for you to drive out here so we’re trying to meet you halfway.”
Taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to put the thing over your head, struggling a bit as a bruise had begun to form where your ex tugged at your dress. 
The sound of the door clicking and swinging slowly open caught your attention as you froze in place. 
“Um, f-full disclosure, my eyes are closed as well. I couldn’t get this thing further down and I could see under the—” You point at the bottom of the mask as the door closed. 
Cologne filled your nostrils as footsteps walked closer to you. 
“Is it ok if I touch you so I can fix it?”
Your head tilted to the side at the sultry, smooth voice just above you.
“Yeah…who-who is this?”
“I’m the mogul in our name. Rockstar is on his way.”
“Were you two not together?”
You feel the atmosphere shift as he kneels in front of you and his fingers gently hold your head as he adjusts the mask to be more comfortable.
“We were but he wanted to stop and grab some things in the lobby. How does that feel?”
“Better, thank you.”
He withdrawals his hands but he doesn’t move as you feel his eyes scanning you over. Braving crossing a boundary, your hands carefully reach out and find his cheeks. Taking a hold of your wrists, Mogul helps guide your movement over his fluffy hair making you smile at how soft it is. When your thumb finds his lips, he exhales heavily and his warm breath has your pussy clenching around nothing. 
Abruptly, the door beeps and opens again as the smell of cigarettes fills the room.
“Do you know how hard it is to find ice in this goddamn palace!?”
Your head tilts again as you try to follow the new voice as he moves about the room. 
“And that would be the rockstar.”, the man in front of you assures as he pats your thigh and sits beside you. As he goes to release your hand, you immediately reach for him again, afraid of being in the dark now that they were here.
“Next building you buy should be a fucking hotel so you can put things where us humans can find them.”
You hear what sounds like someone being lightly hit as everything becomes silent again. 
“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry. My mouth tends to move before my brain does.”, he replies in your direction at a bit of a calmer register as he bounces on to the bed beside you. “God, asshole got you good, huh? Ok, this is going to be cold.”
You yelp and wince when something freezing lands on your arm. 
“I searched for like an actual icepack but I guess the 5 stars don’t include first aid.”
“Ok! I get it. You’re not used to fancy places, dude. Jesus.”
Rockstar laughs through his teeth making you smile again as your free hand reaches towards where you assume he is. Your fingers touch hair first and your eyebrows scrunch together as you realize you found the ends just above his shoulder. 
“Yeah, I, uh, wouldn’t run my fingers through that. It’s all tangled. You may get stuck and have to stay with us forever.”, he chuckles before it trails off. 
You can feel them both watching you as your palm finds his cheek and like with his friend your thumb moves along his bottom lip. They were a bit more chapped but based on the smell you assumed that was due to the cigarettes. As your hand began to travel down his neck, you paused and pulled away not wanted to make either man uncomfortable. 
“I’m sorry.”, you mumble.
“What are you sorry for, honey?”
“I don’t mean to be…that much of a brat, you know. I like talking to you both to and I want to see where this goes but…I guess I’m like him sometimes.” You pause as you gesture towards the rockstar. “My mouth moves before my brain. I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my Daddies anymore.”
Both men were silent for what felt like an eternity before the ice was removed from your skin and replaced by lips. A pleasant sigh escaped you as he tenderly kissed your bruises.
“Why did you ex hurt you?”, Mogul asked.
“Because he’s a fucker.”
“Yeah, we gathered that.”, Rockstar teased as he leaned away from you but intertwined your fingers with his. 
“He, uh, took me on a date to this tacky little restaurant that I told him a million times I hate and then on the drive home he insinuated because he took me out I’d want to…you know.”, you exhale as your head hangs. “I’m just so tired of being lonely. I just want someone to take care of me. ME. Not the supposed ‘whore who needs to be put in her place’ or ‘the desperate big girl’. I’m strong and I can take care of myself. I’m just…tired.”
Fingers tenderly moved your hair behind on of your ears. 
“God, I love your attitude.”
“It’s not uncommon for us to constantly run into ‘yes’ people. It’s one of the problems we have with Babies. Always ‘Yes, Daddy.’ Or ‘Of course, Daddy.’ Sometimes we can’t tell if it’s them being genuine or pandering to us to get what they want. Which…I guess is fine but…”
“Not what we’re looking for.”
Your hands search for Mogul’s face and he grins as he leans in allowing you to touch him. When your lips find his, however, he hastily pulls back and rises to his feet. 
“Hey, no, honey. You don’t have to do that. That’s not why we came down here.”
You feel yourself start to panic, losing your bearings since you can’t see. You had gotten used to them both being next to you and when he stood up you suddenly felt lost. 
“I’m right here, princess. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, Rockstar murmurs in your ear as he squeezes your thigh.
“You don’t want to fuck me?”, you ask to the void, unsure of exactly where the other man may be. 
A deep, guttural groan echoes in front of you as you turn your head towards it.
“I’ve never wanted something or someone so bad in my life, baby, but… that’s not why we came here.”
“He doesn’t want you to feel used. Your ex tried to do that and he doesn’t want you to feel like we’re the same.”
“I don’t. I don’t feel that way at all, Daddy.” Your voice had dropped into that little girl tone as you fully allowed yourself to be vulnerable for them. “Please…”
Lips connected to yours again but the taste was different. The nicotine that lingered on his tongue mixed with the slight taste of mint toothpaste set your body on fire as it fully came to life and you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck as he gently tilted you onto your back.
The bed dipped on your other side and you disconnected from one set of lips to another. You became lost in his kisses as his tongue danced with yours and their hands roamed your skin. 
“We’re going to be gentle tonight, baby girl. Let us take care of you.”
You allowed them to undress you and waited patiently as they removed their own clothes. Lying on either side of you, they each lifted one of your legs over their hips as their lips and tongues sucked on your neck.
Rockstar’s fingers glided through your folds and you groaned loudly as he massaged circles into your clit. While running your hand through his hair, Mogul licked and sucked on one of your nipples making your hips buck as you searched for more friction. 
“Please.”
“What do you want, sweetheart? You want my fingers?”
“Yes, Daddy, please.”
His nose presses against your cheek, his mouth opening in a silent moan as he effortlessly guides two of his digits inside of your core. 
“Fuck. I was right. You are tight. Jesus, sweetheart, our cocks are going to stretch you open, baby.”
“Can…Can I have you both?”
“Can you handle that?”, Mogul asked with a slight whine of want. 
“Yeah, Daddy. I can, I promise.”
“Baby girl, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for.”, he chuckles and you listen as he sucks on what you assume is his fingers. “You may think we’re cocky but trust us we’ve earned the right to be.”
You suck in a breath as you twist your hips and feel two long thick fingers pushed into your ass as both men thrust their digits into you. 
“Oh…my…”
“Can a little girl like you handle your Daddy’s big cocks inside of you at the same time?”
Your hands cling to the man in front of you as you passionately kiss him, his tongue catching your moans as you tremble and trench his fingers as you cum. 
“Y-Yes, I can…I can handle it.”
They abruptly sit up and manhandle you around the bed, Mogul’s arms holding you tightly as he places himself on the edge of the mattress with his legs hanging off the side. Just as you had, his palm comes up to caress your face as his thumb traces your lips. 
“You’re so beautiful, baby.” You softly smile at the sincerity in his voice while he circles your arms around his neck. “Just hang on to Daddy, ok? We got you.”
His hair tickles your nose as he tilts his head and grips his cock between your bodies. 
“Shit, um, I almost forgot. Is it ok…I don’t think we have condoms.”
“It’s ok. I’m protected and I’m clean. You can cum inside me…if you want to…”
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re going to kill us. Ok, go ahead and baby let me know when you’re ready for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
You feel his mushroom tip tease your entrance making you both moan. 
“Take your time, honey. I got you.”
As you slowly descend onto him, he sucks in a breath as your fingers thread through his hair. 
“So big. Fuck, Daddy.”
“How does she feel, man?”
“Mmpf, tight. That’s it. You’re almost there.”
When you’re fully seated on top of him, his forehead leans to rest on yours as his humid breath fans your face. The action causes you to clench around him and he grunts in pleasure.
“Hang on to me.”, he whispers as he tips back onto his hands tilting you with him. 
Rockstar spits in his palm behind you and you mewl as he rubs it between your cheeks.
“Are you ready, princess?”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”
Holding your ass open, he gradually slides into you.
“Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting… goddamn baby girl.”
Ringed fingers take hold of your bicep as both men thrust into you at the same time hitting every spot inside of you that has you melting into them. 
“Oh my God. Yes!”
“Yeah, baby? Fuck, dude. I don’t know how—mmm—how long I’m gonna last. Her ass feels so good.” A hand slaps your behind making you moan as another strong palm grips the back of your thigh guiding your movements as you bounce back into theirs. 
Lips in front of you open mouth kiss your chest up to your neck as you push them closer to your skin. 
“Please. Fuck, Daddy! M’gonna cum.”
Slamming their hips up to meet yours, your body quivers as the coil snaps.
“Atta girl, honey! Making a mess all over our cocks and coming hard like that. So fucking sexy.”
Clinging to them tightly, you allowed them to use you to chase their highs. The man behind you warms your insides first, grunting as his rhythm falters. The man in front of you soon follows thrusting his spend deep inside of you.
“We’re going to pull out, sweetheart, ok?”
“Ok, Daddy.”
After carefully removing themselves, you feel yourself being lifted into the air and spun around before being placed on soft pillows. A wet rag cleans you and you pleasantly sigh as you curl under the covers that were placed over your body. 
“Are you both going to stay?”
Cool metal touches your skin as a hand pets your head. 
“Do you want us to?”
“I promise I won’t look.”
Warmth encases you as they lay on either side, murmuring praises as you steadily fall asleep. 
#################
When you woke up the next morning you were alone, finding a note on the nightstand that said they thought it best to leave before you woke up but that the room was yours for as long as you need and to message them when you made it home. 
You did what they requested but decided to utilize the rest of your Sunday for yourself thinking about everything that happened. You heard your phone pinging but you didn’t want to talk to anyone wishing you could call in that following Monday. Unfortunately, you made a promise to a friend, you couldn’t break. 
“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your colleague asks as she lightly elbows your side. 
“I’m fine. Just an interesting weekend.”
“Alright, guys so this where all the important decisions are made.”, the building tour guide obnoxiously smiled as she guided the class around the office space. “Let’s see if the boss is available.”
“Well thank you for chaperoning with me. When Mrs. Ludwig cancelled I thought I would have to reschedule.”
“No problem. I know nothing about business and economics but…”, you giggle. 
“Holy shit!”
“Mark!”, your friend shouts. “Watch your mouth! Jesus!”
“Mrs. Raymond, it’s Eddie Munson. The guitarist from Corroded Coffin!”
Turning your head in that direction, you realize two men are staring your way, one of them indeed the famous rockstar. 
Rockstar…
Blinking you tilt your head as you notice the rings on his fingers.
That voice. I knew that voice.
“It’s not uncommon for us to see Mr. Munson around here. Him and Mr. Harrington have been friends for a long time. Right, sir?”, the tour guide asks.
“Steve Harrington? The business mogul?”
Mogul…
“See, Y/N. You know some things about the business world.”, your friend grins. 
As the world around you seems to slow down to a halt, you three continue to stare at each other as you figure out where to go from here.
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crappymixtape · 2 months
Text
because of you • part two
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PART I • PART III • PART VI • PART V // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+  | ( 3.3k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )
B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T T W O 🎶 theatre, etta marcus
❝ IS IT EASIER WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE TO START AGAIN? WHEN YOU DON’T WANNA MAKE AMENDS? ❞
‘Stealing a Winnebago’ had been easier than you’d assumed, but the getaway execution went exactly like you thought it would. Absolute disorganized chaos and the way Steve peeled out of the trailer park dumped you into Robin’s lap for the first mile. Made you even more skeptical of whatever half-assed plan these people had frankensteined together and now? You found yourself browsing the clothing section of The War Zone.
What in the hell were they thinking coming here anyway? From Eddie’s retelling of what happened under Lover’s Lake it sounded like not one of them knew anything about hand-to-hand combat, let alone guns. Couldn’t even land a punch, but thought they could handle this? Walls of rifles on display, rounders full of bulletproof gear and cases upon cases of bullets and god, you wanted to leave.
“Hey,” Nancy’s voice pulled your attention away from the tactical vests you were staring at, her eyes wide and earnest as she looked over at you. “If I go over to the counter, you gonna be okay?”
“Oh, totally,” you lied. “Yeah, was gonna go look over here anyway,” and you thumbed over your shoulder at more vests.
“Okay, good.”
She gave you a small Nancy-Wheeler-smile and left you there alone in a sea of camouflage. In the middle of a store you’d never have set foot in before all this and making you second guess yourself. Second guess what was seemingly more and more a stupid decision to go along with all of this and you huffed a sigh in frustration.
“Should’ve stayed in the trailer,” you grumbled under your breath, fighting the urge to just walk out, but apparently you weren’t the only one wandering around all the puke green clothing.
“Huh, didn’t know you had good ideas.”
The sound of Steve’s voice made your hands ball into fists, nails pressing half moons into your palms.
“Do you ever have anything nice to say?” you sneered and he had the audacity to be so causal. Didn’t even look up from the tactical vests he was flipping through and tossed one into his cart.
“Not to you I don’t.”
Anger rose in your chest like a pot boiling over, so hot it made your cheeks burn as you glowered over at him.
“What’s your problem?”
“Don’t have one.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep,” and still he didn’t look at you. Picked a bomber jacket off the rack and piled it on top of his vest and it was the last straw.
Stalking over to his side of the rounder you got right up in his face, dug a finger into his chest and said, “Liar.”
His eyes flickered at your accusation, sardonic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at you and warned, “Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.” And he leaned into your finger. Waited for you to fold. Tsked at your attitude and the sound of it triggered a memory so strong you felt like you’d been sucker punched.
Your second ever interaction with Steve Harrington happened the week before summer break.
You heard it while you were walking back to school from grabbing lunch at the diner. A high, sharp whistle followed by car horn and then—
“Owwww, damn baby!”
And you recognized the voice right away.
Tommy Hagan. Leaning out the passenger window of Steve’s BMW. Wolf-whistling at you and being a dick and you tried to ignore them, but then they were pulling up next to you and slowing way down.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Tommy purred at your back, your mouth twisting into a scowl at the sound of Eddie’s nickname on his tongue. “You need a rid–” he started to ask, but his question cut short when you turned around.
Mouth dropped open in shock for a split second as he realized who you were, Tommy quickly recovered and started to laugh. That obnoxious, hyena-like laugh that made you want to punch him and he smiled and whistled again.
“Shit, Stevie! Who knew the freak had an ass on her!”
“You kiss Carol with that mouth, Tommy?” you shot back, Steve stifling a snicker from the driver’s seat.
“Bet you could do for a kiss, baby,” Tommy tsked, pouted his lips at you and grinned, “Always so damn sour.”
“Yeah? Wanna find out why?” you threatened and it made Tommy grin even wider. Shark-like. Predatory.
“Park it, Stevie,” Tommy didn’t bother looking at his friend, eyes locked on you as he opened the passenger door and jumped out of the car while it was still moving. Walked right up and crowded over you, eyes narrowing as he leaned in, “And what if I do?”
Your stomach lurched, heart leaping into your throat as you stood your ground. You didn’t think he’d take the bait, but you also didn’t shy away. God, you wished Eddie was there. Tilting your chin up in defiance you glared him down.
“Tommy, c’mon man. Just leave it,” you heard Steve’s voice from over Tommy’s shoulder, tinged at the edges with desperation as he ran up on the two of you, but Tommy couldn’t have cared less.
“Well? What’re you gonna do about it, toots?” Tommy pushed again, toes of his shoes knocking against yours as he stepped even closer, towering over you and it hit you like a ton of bricks how in over your head you were.
“Tommy, just leave–”
“I didn’t ask you, Harrington!” Tommy snapped and you took the opportunity.
Grabbing a fistful of his shirt in your hands, you yanked Tommy down into you and drove your knee into his crotch as hard as you could.
“Oh, fuuuuck,” he choked out, folded in half and hands covering his junk as he dry heaved and you took a big step back.
“Coward,” you turned and hurled the word at Steve and watched it land heavy as his face shifted. Brows pinching together and mouth dropped open, but nothing came out as he struggled to say those two little words. I’m sorry. To tell you he wasn’t like his friend, but his silence betrayed him.
“You bitch,” Tommy grunted at you as he tried to straighten up, one hand still over his crotch.
“Don’t move! I’ll–I’ll get you expelled!” you threatened and it made him laugh. A mean, mirthless thing.
“No fuckin’ way. My mom’s on the school board, who’s gonna take your side?”
And you looked back at Steve for a split second, silently asking him to step in and do something, but he stood frozen in place. Still unable to go against his ‘best friend’ and what little belief you had left in him was shattered.
You were done with Steve Harrington.
Shaking your head, you fought back the tears burning at the corners of your eyes and ran up the path to the cafeteria doors. Disappeared behind them with a loud, metallic slam! and left Steve alone to drown in the deafening silence.
Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.
It was like no time had passed, like you were still there in that parking lot with Tommy towering over you and tsking at you just like Steve was doing now, but this time you didn't run away.
“Don’t call me that!” you shoved at his chest and he stumbled back a step.
“Don’t call me a liar!”
“All you do is lie, Harrington! Your entire life was built on lies,” you could see his pulse fluttering against his neck. Watched his jaw tick as he clenched down on the words he wanted so badly to throw at you, but you didn’t give him a chance. “Why are you even here? You don’t give a shit about Eddie. You don’t give a shit about anyone, you’re–”
“Enough!” you flinched as his shout drew the attention of a couple older guys looking at the hunting gear. “You don’t know anything about me, okay? Not a god damn thing,” and the second part was quieter, but they way he held your gaze after punctuated it heavy.
He turned away from you, hastily pushing his cart back toward the cashier counter and walked out the double doors, but you weren’t about to let him have the last word.
“Hey, I’m not done!” you shouted after him across the parking lot. Sharp and biting and it made him spin back around, arms flung out at his sides in exasperation.
“Oh, yeah? Fine. What else you got?”
“Well, for one, I’m not going to sit here while you lord around like King Steve. This isn’t high school. No one here gives a shit about any of that.”
He squeezed his eyes shut at his old nickname. Sucked in a breath and let it out slow to try and steady himself.
“I’m not like that anymore.”
“Seriously? Do you hear yourself? You’ve been a dick to me since I set foot in Max’s trailer! And honestly? I’m not surprised! You think I don’t remember all the shit you put me through, put us through in school?” you shot back and he opened his eyes to glare over at you.
“Like I said, Princess–”
“I said don’t call me that!”
“–you don’t have any idea what this is. What we’re up against. None. You’re in over your head.”
“Okay? And what, I’m supposed to sit here on my hands and say, ‘It’s fine! Steve Harrington and all his little friends will fix this’?? You’re out of your mind!”
“And you think you can?” he shot back and your heart rate thrummed heavy in your ears.
“You know, Eddie says he trusts you now, but hell if I will. No fucking way,” and as you turned and cut past him back to the Winnebago he had to jog to keep up.
“Hey! Eddie almost killed me! With a fucking beer bottle!”
You huffed a laugh and kept walking, shaking your head at the accusation and incredulous at the lengths he was going to prove his point.
“Why should I believe you?” you called over your shoulder, “You’re probably just gunning for a headline: Steve Harrington, Hero of Hawkins!”
“Headline?? I–are you kidding me? You think I’d do all this for a headline??”
And finally you stopped at the bottom step of the Winnebago and Steve seized his chance.
“You really think I’m that superficial?” he shot at your back, but you didn’t turn around. Didn’t even acknowledge him and he spent what little patience he had left. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”
But you were already gone. Frozen in place with the world growing dark. Tree line ahead of you blurring. Unfocused and liquid like water and the ground swam under you as a voice echoed in your mind.
I see you.
The sound of Steve still talking behind you turned to fuzz, crackled like radio static and faded away into ear-splitting silence. Deafening and swallowing you whole and then you felt it. The ground falling out from underneath you and you were drowning in the dark and the voice that echoed in your mind pulled you even deeper.
Resisting will only make it worse.
❝ AND I NEVER HAD A TASTE FOR LIARS OR THE UNIQUELY UNINSPIRED ‘CAUSE I DON’T NEED TO BE DESIRED ❞
Steve glared daggers at your back. Anger hot and fuming and fueled by the fact that you had the nerve to ignore him and god, he wanted to prove you wrong.
“Are you trying to piss me off? Cos its work–” but the words died in his throat as he came around to face you. “Oh. Oh, shit,” with a quick glance over your shoulder he saw everyone else finally coming out of the store and he didn’t wait to call for help.
“Munson!! Eddie!” Steve yelled over your shoulder at your best friend before grabbing your shoulders in his hands and squeezed at them. Leaned down to try and meet your unfocused, far away gaze and when none of it worked he felt his chest grow tight.
Not again.
“Hey, hey! Look at me!" panic clawed its way up his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Stay with me! Munson–hurry up!”
Your eyes were glazed over, tears gathering at the corners as your whole body started to tremble. Breathing stuttered and caught in your throat. Lips parted and trying to pull air in, but it wasn’t enough and Steve felt his hand twitch. Wanted to press it to your cheek to try and ground you, reach you and bring you back, but then Eddie was finally at your side and shoving Steve out of the way.
“Sweetheart! Can you hear me? Shit, shit, shit. What happened?? Honey? Look at me!” Eddie cradled your face in his hands. Did what Steve couldn’t. Voice ratcheted up, his usual low timbre a high pitched thing driven by fear and hearing it doused any remaining anger that had settled into Steve’s chest and replaced it with something else.
With helplessness. Regret. Remorse.
With the slow realization that everything he’d just said to you wasn’t worth it. Remembered how Nancy had yelled at him, just like you, outside of the gym. You’re bullshit! And his throat squeezed with guilt for messing it all up again because he was bullshit. He was a liar and you were right. Had he learned nothing?
He looked at you, your face contorted with fear, and he felt something new flicker within him. A feeling blooming at the pit of his stomach. One he was so certain couldn’t possibly exist when it came to you, but as he stood there watching Eddie try to shake you back from the dark he wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Steve, help me!” tears cut down Eddie’s cheeks as he called to him and pulled him hurtling back to Earth. Desperate. Pleading. Begging him to do something and it shook Steve back into action.
Heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursed through Steve's body and fought off the fear that had threatened to trap him in choke hold.
“Max, gimme your Walkman!” he shouted over your shoulder.
The rest of the group had started running back to the Winnebago as soon as they’d heard yelling and when Steve asked for the cassette player, Max knew time was running out.
“Shit,” she hissed under her breath and broke into a sprint, scrambling to untangle the headphones from around her neck as she hurried to get to you. “Here! It’s still Kate Bush, is that–”
“Doesn’t matter–Munson get these on, hurry!” Steve, snatched the Walkman from Max and crammed it into Eddie’s outstretched hands.
“Please, please, please,” fell from Eddie’s lips, desperate, praying that this would work as he fitted the headphones on and pressed them against your ears, “Please.”
Blinking heavy, you strained your eyes against the black. Against the suffocating dark you suddenly found yourself in. The stand of vivid, green ash trees lining the parking lot replaced by gnarled branches, dark and leafless. Bright yellow buttercups snuffed out by thick, wet vines that snaked their way across the ground under your feet.
You weren’t in the parking lot of the War Zone anymore, not really, and as you breathed in the sickly, ashen air your heart stopped in your chest.
The Upside Down.
“Eddie? Eddie!” you shouted into the dark, red lightening cracking the sky in two, and when no one answered you knew you were utterly alone.
Panic gripped you like a vice as you thought of Chrissy. Of Fred and Patrick and dread filled your stomach. Utter hopelessness and grief and when you whipped around to run you felt something tangle around your leg. Wrapping up, up, up and pulling you down, down, down.
You braced for it, ready to break your fall with your hands, but you never hit and instead found yourself lifting into the air. Unhinged laughter filling your ears as more vines snaked around your arms and legs and you swore you were going to be sick.
It was
Him.
“Why isn’t it working?? God dammit, work!” Eddie was yelling at the Walkman, his composure unravelling as Chrissy’s last moments flooded his mind. “Is she gonna die? She can’t die!” he pleaded and his voice cracked, a sob caught in his throat, “Please don’t let her die!”
“Hey hey, hey! Get a hold of yourself. That’s not gonna happen, okay? It’s gonna work,” Steve gripped Eddie’s shoulders, looked him in the eye and tried to reassure him, but when he glanced over at you he knew he couldn’t make that promise. “Please work,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Where are you going? You can’t leave. Not yet.
Vecna’s voice was everywhere. Flooding every part of you and you feared you would never feel joy again. Would never escape this. Would be stuck here forever screaming into the void, hanging on Vecna’s every whim.
I would like very much to show you where I’m going. Please, take a seat.
And the vines yanked you down, squeezed tight around your wrists and legs and held you fast against the ground, rocks digging painfully into your back.
“Please, let me go!” you pleaded into the dark. “Please, I–” but your mouth went dry as a shadowy figure appeared through the ash. Coming closer and closer in the dark with each heavy step and when it finally stopped, feet at your head, your blood ran cold.
Wet, sinewy skin. Muscles exposed and stretched taut. Eyes that pierced your mind and knew every single one your thoughts. Knew all the dark things spiraling there and made them worse. Clawed at you with spindly, protruding hands and long, dagger-like claws and suffocated you with the smell of something rotten.
Of decay.
Of death.
Reaching a hand down, Vecna held it over your face, inches away from touching you as you struggled against your restraints, but they constricted tighter with your every move.
“Please,” you were crying openly now, tears cutting paths through the ash that had settled on your cheeks, but he ignored you.
I want you to tell your friends, I want you to tell them everything you see. Everything I show you.
“No, please!”
Tell them!
“No, I can’t–”
Tell them everything!
And then your head felt like was being cleaved in two. White hot light fracturing the black sky into thick shards and your screams were the only thing you could hear as Vecna pried open your mind and poured into you his vision for the future...
Hawkins in ruin.
Four gashes in the earth. Cavernous. Hot and angry and full of fire.
Your family. Lying scattered across your lawn. Motionless and still and limbs bent wrong.
Tell them!
Your friends hanging in the air just like Chrissy, Fred, Patrick.
Eyes empty, slack-jawed and lifeless, bones snapped like twigs.
Tell them!
Eddie and Robin and Nancy and Steve and–
“NO!” you screamed, the sound pulled painfully from your lungs as you felt your legs give way and collapsed into yourself.
“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”
Steve scrambled to grab hold of your shoulder and barely caught you before your bare knees hit the pavement.
You heard birds chirping. Sunlight filtering through the backs of your eyelids as you kept them squeezed shut, but the air was clean. Smelled fresh and as you slowly opened your eyes you realized you weren’t choking on ash anymore.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve was still holding onto you, your hands pressed into his thighs as you braced yourself, the feeling of nausea overwhelming.
“I saw him,” you whispered, only Steve could hear you and you started to cry.
“Him?” Steve asked unnecessarily, glancing up at Eddie. Hoping, no praying, if he asked maybe you’d give a different answer. One that wouldn’t involve death and the end of the world and everything hinging on this stupid fucking plan, but he knew.
Everyone knew.
Eyes glued on their feet. Arms folded over their chests and uneasy with the weight that had settled over the group.
“Vecna.”
[ NOTE: THIS IS PART TWO OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
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443 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 5 months
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+quick idea!
what abt fuckboy!james/fuckboy!steve who’s so used to the idea of girls wanting to stay after they sleep w him, but with you, he wants to stay. you get up to leave and get your clothes on before he’s making up dumb excuses and whining with his little puppy dog gaze all like “well you don’t have to leave :(“
and ur just there smirking and trying not to laugh before u climb back in bed w his little clingy self
Thanks for requesting <3
Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 699 words
Steve looks nice when he’s relaxed like this. There’s no carefully curated uptilt to his lips, and the muscles around his eyes are at ease, finally free of that dumb, smolder-y squint he does. You would've never denied that Steve is handsome, but he actually looks quite pretty when he’s not trying so hard. His face has gone soft against his pillow, limps plump and skin golden in the buttery morning light streaming through his curtains. 
You don’t intend to stick around to see that softness melt away. You’re quiet and efficient in changing into the clothes you’d worn the night before, leaving your shoes off for now so your steps remain soundless on Steve’s bedroom floor. You find some mouthwash under his sink and decide that’ll have to do in lieu of brushing your teeth for now, fixing your hair and double-checking that there’s no makeup leftover under your eyes before exiting the bathroom. 
Steve’s sitting up in bed. 
“Morning,” you greet him. 
“Morning.” He stretches, arching his back until it cracks. He tilts his head as his eyes focus on you. “You’re already dressed?”
“Yup.” You sit down on the edge of the bed to put your shoes on. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.” 
“No problem.” He’s doing that stupid eye-squint thing again, albeit a more dulled, tired version, as he rakes his gaze showily up your body. It’s work to not roll your eyes. “I hope you had a good time.” 
“I did,” you confirm, finishing the knot on your second shoe. You stand. “Cool if I leave the front door unlocked on my way out, or did you want to follow me and lock it?”
Steve’s eyebrows cinch, and the squint takes on an unfamiliar nature. “You know, I’m not the type of guy to kick girls out first thing in the morning. You can stay for breakfast, if you want.” 
You give him an appeasing smile. “Thanks, but I’ve got food at home.” 
He sits up straighter, covers slipping down to reveal the waistband of his boxers. “Don’t you need a ride or something?”
“I can take the bus.” 
“Well, I could drive you if you’d just give me a second to get up.” 
“Steve.” You don’t bother hiding the bemusement from your expression. “I really don’t mind taking the bus.” 
Steve pauses with one leg out of the bed and one still in, and you let your gaze linger on his naked thigh for just a moment before forcing your eyes back up to his face. It’s as confused as you imagine yours has to be, but you could almost swear the look in his eyes is tinged with hurt. “What’s the rush?” he asks you. “Do you have somewhere to be or something?”
“No,” you answer with a shrug. “There’s just no point in me sticking around here, and I figured I’d get out of your hair.”
“You’re not in my hair.” 
“I’m not?”
“No.” Steve runs a hand through his hair, one side pressed flat from being smushed against his pillow. You sort of want to stick your fingers in there and ruffle it. “It’s not…you’re not bothering me, or anything.” 
You raise your eyebrows at him. “That’s good.” 
“Just—” Steve blows out a breath. He seems puzzled, and he also seems like being puzzled is frustrating for him. This doesn’t feel like the insouciant, self-possessed boy who’d led you into his bed the night before. “You don’t have to rush out. You could stay for a little while.” 
You cock your hip, giving him an appraising look. “And do what?”
“I dunno,” Steve says, and it occurs to you that he really is at a loss. He doesn’t seem used to having to ask for people to stay. “We could have breakfast, if you want. I could make you an omelet.” That squint is back, like this should be enticing to you.
You huff a laugh but set your bag down, heading for the kitchen. “Steve Harrington, I do not believe for one second that you know how to make an omelet. How about you show me where the supplies are, and I’ll cook us something good.”
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trashmouth-richie · 6 months
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𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎
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older! college coach! steve x fem! reader
summary: your mysterious coach was always hot headed and pushed you harder than the other girls, after losing an important game, you both find ways to release your frustrations.
triggers: 18+ ; steve is thirty and reader is early twenties and plays basketball in college. smut, light use of pet names, no y/n, steve is a dick to reader and has a huge one, biting, hickies, p in v no condom. Very slight mention of blood, indication of simp behavior at the end.
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  “Hustle girls!”
  “Box her out!”
  “Are you fucking kidding me 22?” 
  His workout tank was ringed dark around the hem of the neck, glistening drops of sweat travel from the column of his neck down into the gray cotton blend fabric. 
  He was pissed. When wasn’t he?
  A rogue strand of hair escapes from the style he had down to a science, red blotches flashed across his cheeks and neck, veins poked out from his vacation tanned skin. 
  Last night's game ended horribly. And today you were all paying the price for it. 
  -
With only 10 seconds left on the clock in the 4th quarter, the play he had drawn up on the marker board was the exact same one you had been practicing since your first year at college. Only this time you were getting the ball after Mel faked to Blair, with just enough time to shoot that beautiful three point shot you had been perfecting since high school. 
   The squeak from the black expo marker under his thick fingers wrote out his code: Hawkins for the play that was drilled into your brain by coach for the last year. 
  “Run it just how we’ve been practicing, I’m telling you it’ll work.” 
  Mel’s fake out didn’t work and you had gotten the ball late. Each dribble from the floorboards into your sweaty palm felt like a heartbeat. The girl guarding you swatted at the ball, missing just barely as she attempted to make a steal, trying to force you to foul her when she had the ball to waste more time and grant you your fourth foul, ending your playing time. 
  A quick move around her and a cross to your left hand had her stumbling over her ankles like Bambi, and you cut to the three point line, lined up your Nike’s to the hoop like your dad had taught you, and arched the ball into the air. 
  The buzzer was blaring when the orange ball left your finger tips, tongue poking out and your ponytail fluttering behind you. the gymnasium lights were hospital white, piercing your eyes and making you see dots as you landed on your feet, your competitor reaching for the ball at the last second. 
  Anticipation filled your lungs as the ball circled around and around the rim. The girls and coach all rose from the bench and waited with hands on their heads or holding hands watching the ball spin.
  And with a sick twist, it fell out. Landing to the floor with a silent thud as the bleachers erupted into a nascar loud roar. 
  Bulldogs: 60 Pirates: 58 
  He was furious. 
  Clipboards snapped on his khaki thighs as you all sat on the wooden benches of the sweaty walled locker room. He didn’t yell, he didn’t speak to anyone other than glaring into the ceiling. 
  “Pack your shit, bus leaves in five.” 
  No times for showering or debriefing, you and your teammates were hustled to the bus as he snapped his fingers, let’s go let’s go let’s go! 
  Refusing to let the bus driver stop to get water or any sort of snacks on the way home. “They don’t deserve it.” He preened, looking at your sad faces with a disapproval that cut so deep it had some of the girls in tears.
   His mossy green eyes stopped on yours and the disappointment brewed to hatred, his eyes burning emerald, he blew air through his nose and clenched his knuckles, “none of them.” 
  Mel had thrown up twice during Coach’s infamous Hellfire Sprints. Her and her boyfriend Trevor, who was practically your 5th suitemate, had stayed up until dawn doing pulls from a tequila bottle and hitting his dab pen. 
  You hadn’t slept either. 
  Laying on top of your comforter with wet hair and lotion slicked skin, racking your brain with how the shot felt a tiny bit off from your fingers, how coach’s eyes looked like a fucking demon’s when he glared at you on the bus. 
  How the Sunday morning practice, which was usually laid back and games of pig and watching game tape, was going to be hell on earth. 
  “22 if I have to tell you one more time to move your ass I’m cutting you from this team do you hear me?” 
  You rolled your eyes as you pushed yourself faster to touch the black line, beating out the other girls by a full few seconds. 
  After the sixth set of sprints he had you all go to the workout room and max out on squats. Your legs shook and nearly buckled under the heavy weights. And all he did was stand behind you and tell you how pathetic you looked, he shook his head and scoffed. 
  “We’re gonna stay here all day til you rack this up, don’t care if you fall on your ass— you’ll do it.” 
  His breath fanning your ear drove you mad. Spearmint gum and that rich boy cologne he always wore stung your nose as you grunted in defiance. 
  Through bared teeth and burning lungs you extend your legs to stand. 
  You wanted to kick him in the dick, make him shut the fuck up for once, but you bit your tongue. Driving the bar up and slamming it loud against the rack  Looking back at him with a glare in your eyes, you wouldn’t let a single tear wet your eyes, never giving him the satisfaction. 
  He looked you up and down quickly, but his eyes felt like hot pokers dragging against your skin. Before he crossed over to another one of your teammates to add more weight to their bar, he dipped his head, and muttered just above a whisper, “Thatta girl.” 
  -
  You didn’t know much about him but what you did know was that he kept to himself. 
  Coach Harrington was only a few years older than you, he had a small mustache that he more than likely grew to make himself look a little older than he was. 
  From what your suitemates had found out by spending hours scouring online archives from his hometown local newspaper to his social media footprint that didn’t exist— and even going as far to stalking his ex girlfriends Instagram— he had played college ball at Perdue for two years before blowing out his knee and ending a full ride scholarship and any rumored possibility of making it to the NBA. 
  From locker room gossip, you had learned that he drove a black Jeep Wagoneer, and lived in one of the newer apartments downtown. 
  The university had paid double what they had for the last coach's salary to get Harrington through the doors. The athletic director, Mr. Hopper, had picked him to coach because he was one of the best. But all he was to you was a fucking asshole. 
  The other girls had ooed and awed over him, the other teams coaches flirted with him before the games, trying to get his number and find out more about the brooding coiffed hair hottie. And maybe you would feel different about him if he wasn’t such a raging prick. 
  But he wouldn’t budge. 
  He didn’t get personal with anyone on the team, barely even talked to his assistant Dustin. Refusing to call anyone by anything other than their jersey number or their last name. 
  Practice lasted for three hours. And by the end of it his voice was hoarse and gruff. Having screamed practically during the entire time. 
  It wasn’t anything new. He was always high strung and losing his shit when it came to the girls, but mostly you bore the brunt of his anger. 
  He always used you as an example on what not to do. 
  “You’re doing it wrong 22,” he’d bellow, his voice echoing loud across the empty gym, his arms crossed tight across his chest, muscles popping under the strain of his tight gray shirt, “drive to the left then cut right, this isn’t fucking hard… do it again.” 
  You did as you were told, fighting through anger that seeped through your skin and riddled your face with shaking muscles of anger, a twitch to your eye.
  You were pissed and had had enough. Not only were you the youngest captain your school had ever seen, you were averaging triple doubles nearly every game. 
  Showing up to practice early to shoot free throws and leaving late to make sure all the equipment was put away. Spending weekends in the gym running drills or pushing weights instead of at the nearest rager popping pills and snorting coke like everyone else your age. 
  You put in the work and it showed, but he couldn’t see it. 
  It was equally frustrating and heartbreaking.
  When practice was finally through and all of the girls had either thrown up, left mid practice to go to the nurse or screamed that they were quitting, the locker room was an endless groan. Muscles were slicked over with the menthol burn of icy hot, and sore shoulders wrapped with bags of ice. Tape was torn from ankles and jammed fingers wadded up and tossed into a nearby waste bin. Sniffles were heard from some players and you stood in a sports bra and shorts when Coach Harrington entered the locker room. 
  “Don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be back here in 3 hours to run more Hellfire Sprints.”
  The girls groaned and slammed lockers, bitching under the breath. 
  “Hey!” Coach Harrington shouted, a thin vein bulging in his forehead, matching the ones in his arms, as he stood with his hands on his hips, the retro fit of his athletic pants swishing under his thick hands. “You want someone to bitch to? You can thank your captain.” 
  The room falls silent as all eyes land on you. And your breath hitches in your throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. 
  “Me?” You question, “what the hell did I do?” 
  “The question you should be asking yourself is what you didn’t do. How did you sleep last night knowing you blew that game for your teammates?” 
  A gasp escapes from your lips and you stare at your Air Forces to hide your pained expression. 
  “Now, the rest of you get recharged, be back here at 5 o’clock, I don’t want any excuses.” As the room starts to file out, through the heavy wood door,  Coach Harrington still stands in the middle of the room,  eyes burning holes  into your skull, “22 meet me in my office in 10, we need to discuss your position on this team.” He turned on his heel and headed through the doors, pushing them open with a straight arm and his pants swishing down the hallway, 
  You wait til everyone has gone, Mel giving you a slap on the shoulder, her skin unusually pale on her olive complexion under her charcoal braids, “good luck.” 
  Lifting your chin you nod and wave, throwing an oversized crew neck over your head and pushing your arms through the holes. Gym bag strewn over your shoulder and you pull your socks up a bit before making the long trek down to Coach Harrington’s office. 
  Contemplating what you would do when you walked through his office and he kicked you off the team, your long basketball career over because your coach couldn’t fucking stand you. 
  Never in all your life had you had a coach like him. He pushed you to the limits and started to make you despise the sport altogether. 
  And since you were about to be booted off the team, you didn’t have anything to lose. 
  The gold plate reading: Coach S. Harrington- Women’s Basketball on the large mahogany door nestled between the cream cinder block walls almost made your stomach lurch. He never asked anyone to come to his office, not even when Zoey got pregnant last semester and had to quit. 
  Nerves shook your fist as you knocked on his door, your other hand fumbling your car keys around the silver ring. 
  “Yeah.” He barked curtly, anything but friendly. 
  Turning the enormous brass knob, you keep your eyes to the floor when you step into his office. For being down an abandoned hallway, it was almost cozy. The walls were painted fire engine red to match your school's colors. His college degree was framed and hanging on one wall, along with signed pictures of Michael Jordan that you knew cost more than your car. 
The oak desk was neat with a MacBook and cup of pens and pencils. A markerboard hung the expanse of one wall covered in scribbled plays and code names. 
  It smelled like musky expensive leather and cologne and neatly stacked paper  Pictures from his glory days were on the shelf behind him, and he cleared his throat when you stared at him flying through the air towards a hoop. 
  His hair was messy, tufts of brown sticking up, like his fingers had been raking through it so many times out of frustration that the flexible gel wasn’t holding anymore. 
  He peers at his screen without making eye contact with you, fingers tapping noisily on the keys. 
“Do you hate basketball?” 
  His question has your head spinning.  And when you don’t answer right away he asks again. 
  “N-no,” you stutter, voice shaky and on the verge of screaming at his stupid question. 
  “Sure about that?” He seethes, still not looking up from his laptop as he clicks away furiously on the keyboard, “The way you played last night could have fooled me.” 
  Moon shapes indent your palm as you try to keep it together without ripping his head off like a praying mantis “It was a mistake.” 
  “We don’t make elementary mistakes,” he says slamming his laptop closed and peering over his desk at you through his thick eyebrows, “a fucking third grader could have ran that play better than you did.” 
  Your throat is dry and chalky as you try to stick up for yourself, being accustomed to keeping rage boiled hot in your belly, “I-I’m..” 
His torment continues, pointing around the room at the awards from the last few years, “We’re a nationally ranked team, and your performance last night was embarrassing, and pathetic!”
  A single tear threatens to slip down your cheek, and he notices the watery look in your eye, and licks his lip, but he keeps going. 
  “I expected more out of you, 22– you let your team down last night, and most importantly, me.”
  You burst before the dam does, annoyed and sick of his threats, sick of his constant nitpicking of every move yoj make, “That’s not anything new.”
  “Excuse me?”
  “You treat me like I’m a dog! It’s almost like you want me to quit, you don’t bitch at any of the other girls like you do to me, and I’m tired of it!” 
  “Watch your mouth.” He points, eyes squinted and nostrils flared.
  “No! I work my ass off for you, come in early and stay late. My game has improved and I’m top of the charts for scoring and rebounds, yet you fucking hound me and are constantly cutting me down.” 
  He doesn’t say anything so you keep going. 
  “Last night could have ended with us winning and you wouldn’t give a flying fuck, you’d still make us run your dumbass drills, you’d still wake up and find something wrong with what I do— stop taking your failed career out on me!” 
  he slams his fist into his desk and stands up quickly, the picture frames wiggle as his chair hits the shelf. He crosses the small office in one long legged step coming to stand before you as your back hits against the heavy door,  he points a thick finger into your face. 
  You struck the last fragile nerve he had like a guitar player busting a string playing a solo. Any reserve he had left was gone, his eyes clouded over into hue deeper than a dark forest. 
  His hot breath fans your cheek, spearmint intensely strong with each bite of his words.
  “Don’t you ever talk to me about my personal life again, you got that? You,” he surges pointing into your shoulder, “are supposed to be a leader for this team, and right now you’re acting like a spoiled fucking brat not getting her way.” 
  The tear you were holding back spills over over your lashes and, his eyes break from yours to watch its southward path on from your cheek to your chin. A low grown rumbles in his throat.
  “I’m not a brat!” you scream at him, wiping your cheek hastily,  “you’re crazy, and we all hate you!” 
  His eyes stay moody and dark as he peers into your face down the slope of his nose, “really?” he says no louder than a whisper, “you hate me huh?”
  A thick hand wraps around your ponytail, and his body crowds yours into the door, back flat as it would go despite your curves. 
  Your breathing is erratic, bubbled into your throat with anxiety like you might throw up. His face is so close to yours you can see the definition of each of his eyelashes, and tiny flecks of gold in his eyes. 
  He’s staring at you with pure hatred, like he’d kill you if ever given the chance, and you’re almost embarrassed by the way your pussy clenches.
  “Say it again,” he murmurs, mouth barely moving and barely an inch from your own, his eyes only leave yours when your mouth opens to speak. 
  “I fucking hate you, Coach Harring—”
  His mouth slams into yours with such force your teeth clack together and the taste of blood trickles on your tongue. Your back is pushed flush against the door, likely to bruise from the force alone. 
  His full weight is pressed against you, his taut body firm and rocked with muscles. He locks your hips in place with alarge hand, fingers gripping your skin beneath your sweater.
  Firm and taking what he wants without a second thought, his lips are intoxicating. The roughness of his mustache tickles your lip in an itching way, more than likely leaving a burn behind in his feverish take on your mouth. 
  His hair is soft in your grip, and you nearly roll your eyes thinking about his hair care routine, but you find yourself rolling your eyes in a different way when you feel his cock bulging through his pants.
  Thick and heavy against your thigh, if you had to take a guess it was probably as veiny as his forearms were. And you stifle a moan when it kicks up. 
  His teeth bite at your lip and you yelp in pain, a noise that only drives him further into you, his hand tightens around your ponytail and yanks your neck further back so your head hits the door. 
  His shirt is fisted into your hand and you pull him further into you, sliding your tongue against his—sharing the taste of your fresh blood and his spearmint spit. 
  You scratch at his scalp with your dull nails and he fights back a melty groan. 
  “Such a fucking brat.” He breathes, as his fingers work the hem of your crew neck up, his fingers feel like lightening strikes against your body, and you welcome the dulled pain with a moan, “Need’t be put in your place.” 
  You whine when your sweater hits the ground with a soft thud and the cool air of his office ices over your still sweat slicked skin. His lips suck deep bruises into your throat, and his fingers dip into the waistband of your shorts, shoving them down in a hurry. 
  Expert fingers find your clit and he smirks when you whine for more, “thought you hated me?”
  You pout when his fingers come to a halt, eyes flicking open to see his confidence boasting on his stupid perfect face.
  “But this pretty little pussy doesn’t, does she baby?” 
  “Coach,” you moan out for him, his title on your lips in a sloppy whine make him harder than he’s ever been. 
  His thick fingers dip into the silky warm folds of your pink pussy. The combined noises you make, echo loud in his office. “Fuck baby,” he groans, his fingers sucking up into your gummy walls, he pops them out licks the juicy wetness of your arousal from them. “So wet honey, all this for me?” 
  Your fingers pinch at his sweats and pull them down in a swift motion along with his boxer briefs. He’s hung more than you thought. Making any guy you had been with previous look like something in a funny museum.
   His abs are sculpted and dip into a hard cut v, leading to a small patch of trimmed hair, housing the longest, thickest dick you’ve ever come across. 
  And you were right it was veiny. 
  The pretty mushroom pinked head was presenting a pearl of pre cum, so pretty it could make an angel cry. When you try to lower yourself to wrap your lips around him, he stops you. 
  “Not today,” he groans, fisting his hearty length, your eyes going dumb watching him, brain numb and drunk on him already, “not enough time.” 
  He wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you up against the wall, your bare back stings against the rough cement wall, he’s grabby, his lips pressing heat into your neck, his moan tingling your skin. 
  With a quick shift of his hips, your tight pussy sheaths his thick cock. And you scream out. 
  “Shit, fuck honey..” he’s fighting to keep composure as you are practically lifeless against the wall. His thrusts are filled with purpose and want as your ass is slammed harder and harder into the wall, clapping along like a round of applause, ankles crossed around his lower back at your Nike socks and the laces of your air forces bouncing in tandem. 
  He’s sweaty and grunting, with each pull from his cock brings more deep and pretty noises from you and he sucks into your shoulder again, knowing damn well his mark will last for weeks. One you’d have to explain to your friends and your teammates, and your boyfriend. 
  He didn’t know if you had a boyfriend and frankly he didn’t give a fuck, you were his for the time being and he would do as he pleased. 
  He was fucking you stupid and you were letting him, holding his neck in a lazy grip as he hammered into you, and when you tightened around him, he knew you were close, “look at me,” he begs of you, “you’re gonna come for me, yeah?” 
  “Yes,” you choke out, barely registering what he’s saying from the tight coiled pleasure of your orgasm ready to fire away. 
  His cock drags slow as your eyes connect, yours lazily spilling over with fresh tears, “who’s makin’ you feel this good, 22? Huh?” 
  “Y-you Coach!” you whine, nearly ready to crumble under his thick fingers when he rubs your sensitive clit. 
  “What was that baby girl?,” he croaked, holding back his release, “couldn’t hear you.” 
  “Oh fuck oh fuck mmm you, Coach Harrington! Fuck I’m coming!”
  Your orgasm breaks and it’s like a dam has busted, his dick is soaked by your arousal and he’s losing any bit of cockiness he had left when your face smooths and your lips blur a pretty round ‘o’  as you hum and your body tingles. 
  He follows not far behind you, muttering sentences that make no sense, drunk on your pussy as he paints your walls with his release. 
  You’ve never seen him look hotter, his forehead rests on your chest as you both catch your breath. For a split second he shows you a sly smirk, like he actually was enjoying himself.
  “you might just be my fav-”
  before he can finish, before he can pull out and offer you a towel, a loud knock scared everything in him stiff. Besides his cock that went instantly soft..  his blood ran cold.  
  His face stares at the door, and you stare at him, your grip on his shoulders tighten.
  “Steve?”  
*let me know your thoughts on this, should there be a part 2? I love hearing your comments ♥️
397 notes · View notes
veltana · 3 months
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Mafia AU prequels - Bucky's break-up
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✦ Pairing: Stucky/Fem!Reader ✦ Word count: ~1.7k ✦ Rating: Mature ✦ Warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, mild swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol consumption, lots of fluff and feels, platonic cuddling, sharing a bed, Bucky is a dramatic drunk, unrequited love/crush, mention of loki/reader. ✦ Summary: The thing with roommates is that you will hear them during sex occasionally, it can’t be avoided with thin walls in an old building. But since that Wednesday Bucky never once slept alone and the rest of the time he was hardly in the apartment. ✦ Note: This is a prequel to No one as sweet as you set while they were living together in college, which focuses on their growing relationship and how Bucky and Steve started to develop feelings for Sweets as more than just their best friend. You don't need to read No one as sweet as you to get this but I recommend it. (Also posted on AO3)
Series masterlist
Masterlist | AO3
Bucky and Dot broke up on a Wednesday around lunch. On Wednesday night Bucky had a new girl in his bed and you and Steve shrugged, put on your headphones, and waited for it to blow over.
The thing with roommates is that you will hear them during sex occasionally, it can’t be avoided with thin walls in an old building. But since that Wednesday Bucky never once slept alone and the rest of the time he was hardly in the apartment.
With your room right in between Steve and Bucky’s, you took the brunt of the sounds and on Friday morning you decided to take shelter in Steve’s room because the girl was a screamer and you had barely slept for two days.
Now it’s Tuesday, around one am and both Steve and you are awake, listening to the moans and sounds making their way through your room and into Steve’s.
"How does he even do it?" Steve sounds a little amazed as you both lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. "Drugs?" you ask. "Honestly, it has to be, how else is he going at it all the time like that?" "Maybe they're all faking it?" you suggest.
"I've never heard anyone complain about him," Steve shrugs. "But I mean statistically he can’t get it right for everyone every time." "If he does, he is one of a kind," you decide. "Tempted to go for a ride?" You hear the smile in Steve's voice without even looking. "No, not really," you grimace. "We should do something, I’m not sure it’s healthy anymore."
"Yeah I know, Sweets, but if I try and grab him like he did with me when I was sad about Peggy he is probably going to punch me," Steve sounds concerned too.
Sweets, that dorky nickname they both have decided to call you because you happen to like all things sweet. Somehow it had stuck, even though you protested. "I can try and talk to him," you pause before continuing. "If he is ever alone again."
Suddenly the front door slams and you realize that the sounds have stopped. Sharing a look both of you rush out of bed, finding Bucky in the kitchen, downing a gallon of juice.
"Want some?" He holds it out when he sees you. The smell of alcohol on his breath is strong, even when you’re a few feet away, pulling out a chair to sit down across from where he’s standing. "No thank you," you answer while Steve leans against the fridge. "So, who was that?" you ask.
Bucky shrugs. "Don't know, met her at a bar." "Are you using protection?" Steve asks with a raised eyebrow. Bucky straightens up, putting the open juice jug down hard on the counter, making liquid slosh out, looking at Steve with black eyes that you’ve never seen before.
"Of course I am, do you think I'm fucking dumb or somethin'," he snarls. Bucky tends to be a little dramatic when he's drunk. In an effort to calm him down you reach out to him. "Hey, Bucky, it's okay, he wasn't-" The moment your fingers touch his arm, he turns and moves his hand. "Don't fucking touch me," he says and the palm of his hand connects with your underarm.
Out of surprise and not because it hurts, you yelp and look up at Bucky, a little confused because he’s never reacted like that before. He stares back at you with horrified eyes, realization dawning on him. Slowly, without another word, he backs away and hurries over to his room, slamming the door behind him like a teenager in a fit.
Steve moves forward and grabs your arm, turning it over to see if you’re hurt. "What the fuck is wrong with him," he murmurs. "It's nothing, I was just surprised," you shrug. "I've hurt myself worse by bumping into tables." "That is no fucking excuse." Steve lets go and starts towards Bucky's door. Before he can knock, Bucky opens it with a bag over his shoulder. He's changed into new clothes and his cap is pulled down low over his eyes.
Steve blocks the doorway and crosses his arms, asking "Where the fuck are you going?" "Heading out, move," Bucky mumbles and tries to duck past Steve but the other won't let him. "The fuck your not, you're gonna stay here and face whatever it is that you’re feeling," Steve's voice is laced with restrained anger. "And you're gonna apologize to Sweets."
You’re about to protest that you're not really hurt, but Steve shoots a look over his shoulder and you clamp your mouth shut. "We understand that you're sad about Dot," Steve is softer now and he leans on the doorframe, giving Bucky a way out but he doesn't take it, he just stands there, looking at the ground.
"You don't understand shit, Steve," Bucky mutter. "Have you even cried?" Steve asks and that makes Bucky’s head snap up, his mouth a thin line. "Real men don't fucking cry," he hisses. They stare at each other for a long while, then Steve points to you. "Can real men apologize when they're being a fucking ass?" Steve asks with poorly hidden disdain.
This is a sore spot for both of them and has been the grounds for arguments before. Bucky has some views on what it means to be a man that neither Steve nor you share. It has gotten better over the years according to Steve but you have not seen Bucky cry once, not to sad movies or when he’s been injured, or even had his heart broken. It's concerning, but maybe you and Steve can help him with that one day.
The bag lands on the floor with a thump and he walks past Steve to where you're sitting on the chair. Without a word he gets down on his knees in front of you and gently grabs your arm, pressing his lips against your skin murmuring "I'm sorry," repeatedly.
Steve has turned to look at you and you meet his eyes that are still hard and annoyed. You use your free hand to remove the cap and run your fingers through Bucky's hair, whispering, "It's okay."
When you do, Bucky stiffens and stops moving for a moment, then he lets go of your arm and buries his face in your pajama-clad lap, his voice trembling when he says, "I'll move out, I swear. I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, Sweets! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I love you so much."
Steve softens immediately and pushes off the door to settle on the floor beside him, rubbing his back. “No need for that Buck,” he says softly and you echo him. “I don’t want you to leave Bucky,” you grab one of his hands and gently press a kiss to the top of it before placing it back again.
After several minutes of silence, Bucky asks angrily into your legs, "Why the fuck does it have to hurt this much.” "I don't know," you answer truthfully. "I wish I never met her, never fucked her, never fucking loved her,” Bucky continues. "No, you don't," Steve argues. "I know it might feel like you will never be happy again but it will get better." Bucky lifts his head and Steve cups his face and brushes his cheeks, even though there are no tears there.
"We love you, and we will help you with anything you need," you promise. Bucky nods and lays his head down against your legs again with Steve's hand still on his cheek.
Eventually, Steve stands up and Bucky looks at him a little worried. "Not leaving, just gonna get another blanket for the bed," he reassures him. While Steve is gone Bucky says, "I'm sorry I hurt you, I love you, Sweets, more than you could ever know." And you smile because even though you know he’s exaggerating, it’s still nice to hear him say it. "I know Bucky, I know," you whisper.
When Steve comes back he pulls Bucky to his feet and guides him into the bedroom. You check the front door before turning all the lights out, then padding over to Steve's room too. They're cuddled together, Bucky's head pressed into Steve's shoulder and you move to slide in behind Bucky, but he grabs you around the waist and pulls you down between them. It makes you giggle and there is a weak smile answering on Bucky's face before you all settle in.
There is not even a light bruise left behind on your arm the next day, but you've never seen Bucky so remorseful. In the following weeks, he accompanies you around to classes, carries your stuff, and has sworn off drinking. Both you and Steve are skeptical because Bucky is famous for his partying but in the months that follow he often goes out but always comes home sober.
One day when you're having lunch at home together on the couch, you ask him about it.
First, he puts his food down before taking hold of your utensils and placing them on the table. Then he grabs you and pulls you into his lap, hugging you so tightly you can hardly breathe.
"I never want to put you in that situation again," he explains. "What if I get angry and do something worse, to you, or Steve, or anyone else." Hugging him back as best you can you say "Maybe you should talk to a professional about it?" "I'm on a waiting list," he replies.
You cuddle into him, really trying to show him that you mean it when you say, "Bucky I'm not afraid of you, I know you didn't mean to hurt me." "Don't make excuses for me," he says and picks up a strand of your hair, twirling it between his fingers.
The moment is cut off by your phone chiming and you wiggle out of his hold. When you pull it out a smile splits your face. "Have to go," you grab another spoonful of fried rice then get up. "Who was that?" Bucky asks.
Since you’re halfway to the door you don't pick up on his tone. "Just someone I've been seeing," "What's his name?" "Loki, he's from Europe!" You turn around with a smile and throw him a kiss before you're out the door.
Bucky feels his heart break, again, only this time he has no excuse to be sad about it because you aren't his.
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darkdarkstucky · 2 years
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Pretty, S. Rogers and B. Barnes.
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˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Pretty
Summary; You were anything but expectant after spending a night between the ellusive lawyers, James Buchanan Barnes and Steve Grant Rogers; it was a supposed fling. Something to spice up their marriage. So you weren't exactly prepared with their advances nor the possessiveness that came with their attention.
Pairing; Soft!Dark Stucky x Reader, Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Reader, Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader.
Warnings; Sexual themes, Adult content, Manipulation, Possessiveness, Soft!Dark Stucky, Married Stucky, Gaslighting Stucky, Age Gap (Steve is 40, Bucky is 39, Reader is 19) Please do not interact if it makes you uncomfortable!
ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ MASTERLIST
♡ chapter one
♡ chapter two
♡ chapter three
♡ chapter four
♡ chapter five
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