just a bean

The drunk party set it off. Tequila for you and Asgardian mead for him, you'd both started off with giggling over nothing; neither of you can stop the way your eyes flick to each others lips. 

"M'bored"

You huff and Bucky gets a bright idea, grabbing your waist and dragging you off to the quieter side of the room. 

"Come here" He pulls you into his lap, cupping your cheek, lips brushing against his. You don’t hesitate, parting your lips, letting his tongue slip though, your hands grasping onto his shirt, wishing he could be even closer some how. He shifts so you can straddle him, his hands on your ass, while you run your fingers though his hair, soft moans and whimpers falling from both your lips.

“Isn’t this more fun” Bucky rasps, pulling away for air while you take in a breath, your forehead resting on his. 

“Much better” You giggle, going in for his lips again, which he immediately reciprocates. 

Most of the team see at some point but they shrug it off figuring you’ll both forget any of this happened by morning because everyone’s shit faced. 

Except. 

It’s movie night.

Everyone's sitting around the living room, snacks out, comfy blankets, and the movie is great. It's one of your favorites. But there's something else you'd rather do...

You're sitting beside Bucky in a large beanbag chair, glancing at him every so often, his lips are so much more interesting than anything happening in that movie. He catches you sneakily looking at him and it makes him smirk; he shifts so he can pull you a little closer to him.

"Buckyyy" You pout at him, hoping he can take the hint without you having to say anything. "M'bored"

He grins, tilting your chin up, pressing his lips softly against yours. It's dark enough that no one would really notice unless they looked directly at what you were both doing. You part your lips granting access for his tongue to tangle with yours, his hand moving to grasp the back of your neck. Your hands fist his shirt, tugging on his dog tags to keep him as close as possible, nipping his lip, making him groan. You could stay like this forever and be perfectly content.

Your both so lost in each other, you don't notice the lights turning on after the movie ends. OR screaming and howling coming from the team when they look down and see you sitting right in Bucky's lap, his hands carded through your hair, making out with you like its the one thing that's keeping him alive.

"HOLY SHIT"

"What the-

"WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?!"

"Do neither of you need oxygen?!"

"Bad Bucky"

You and Bucky yelped, breaking apart, feeling water hitting your face while Tony sprayed you both once more for good measure.

"Bad Bucky. Bad. Down"

"You wanna tell us what that was" Sam wiggled his eye brows while Bucky groaned.

"We were bored" He shrugged, his cheeks skill flushed and lips still plump. You nodded in agreement, while the rest of the team stared at you both. They have so many questions but don't even know where to start so they call it for the night.

Imagine they come down for breakfast and they find you on the counter, your legs wrapped around his waist, both of your plates still left on the counter because you got...busy.... Steve attempts to cough to get you both to stop but Bucky's to distracted, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other tugging your pony tail from your morning run. They all stand and watch for a while, Tony occasionally checks the time, a little impressed with just how long either of you can go without having to break apart for air. Sam finally breaks the silence, mostly because he's hungry.

"Okay, fucks going on with you both"

"What do you mean" Bucky's voice is breathless, his chest heaving. Neither of you even bother to look over, eyes still locked with each other, still glancing at each others lips.

"I've watched porn with less raunchy kissing than this" Tony snorted, while you both kept gazing at each other, clearly itching to jump at each other at any moment.

"We're just friends" Bucky helped you off the counter, hoping to drag you somewhere else because he wasn't done kissing you.

"Friends that kiss" You added, pulling Bucky by his wrist to go and make out somewhere else.

"I'm putting you both in separate cages!"

A few years later

"We are in the house of God, don't you dare pull that shit up here"

"I have no idea what you're talking about" Bucky snorted while Tony shook his head, rolling his eyes. Bucky could feel his heart race, while Steve squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“I will pull out the spray bottle”

"You look gorgeous doll" Bucky whispered, holding your hands in his, itching to do the one thing he wanted to do so badly the moment he saw you that day, just a second longer...

"You may now kiss the bride"

His hands wrapped around your waist pulling you close, his lips smashing against yours. Your hands cupped his cheeks, moving your lips softly with his, the crowd erupting into cheers and happy tears while you both stayed lost in each other. 

"I told you not to pull that shit up here!" Sam sniffled, grabbing a tissue from Steve, watching you both still softly kissing each other, unable to stop the little pecks and nips on each others lips. You finally broke apart, still giving each other heart eyes; no one else stole his breath away like you did. 

"Friends that kiss, huh?"

Tags:

“You’re sure?” Steve asks, his eyes on you as you slip your skirt on over your lace thong. Your top half is clad in a strappy red bustier, your tits practically spilling out over the flimsy material. 

You nod at your boyfriend. “I’m sure Stevie. Are you sure?” you reply, putting the collared sweater on over your top. 

The boy nods, biting his lip as you walk toward him, standing between his legs as he sits on his bed. You comb your hand through his hair, smiling down at him. His hands reach up under your skirt, grabbing your ass.

“He’ll be here soon, let’s go downstairs,” he says, giving you a light smack before getting up, grabbing your hand and guiding you downstairs. 

It had all started just a few weeks ago. Steve had noticed when you came to surprise him while he was at work. -

“Hi baby,” Steve says as you approach the counter. “What’s this?” He asks as you hand him the coffee you brought to surprise him. 

“Just thought you could use a pick me up,” You smile at your boy. You were planning on running in and kissing him all over, but there was someone else blocking your way.

“You’re the best baby, thank you,” Steve smiles back at you, taking the coffee and kissing your cheek. “Oh, yeah baby you know Eddie,” Steve says, remembering the boy in front of him dressed in all black. 

Your cheeks heat up at the way Eddie looks at you, unashamedly looking your body up and down as he flips a lighter around in his hand. You didn’t know Eddie well, but knew that he and Steve have gotten closer over the past year or so. He didn’t scare you necessarily, but he did make you a little nervous. He’s intimidating, with his dark style and obscure interests, and every time he looked at you, it always felt like he was seeing right through you. 

“Yeah. H-hi,” you stutter, stumbling over your words slightly. 

Eddie’s smirk is wolffish as he notices your nerves. “Hi,” he chuckles at your shyness. “It’s okay, I don’t bite.”

“That’s a lie,” Steve scoffs and your eyes flick to him quickly. You’re no angel, but Steve rarely talks or jokes about sex with anyone while you’re there- he’s typically very protective and private…

“Wouldn’t you like to know Harrington,” Eddie winks at him. Your core tightens as the two boys seemingly flirt in front of you. You look at Steve, a blush coating your cheeks at the interaction, but he just shrugs before he has to turn his attention to a different customer at opposite end of the counter. 

Then, just a few days later, you lazily walked down the stairs at Steve’s house.  It was late, and you had just woken up after you had fallen asleep doing homework on his bed. And when you realized Steve wasn’t still in bed with you, you decided to get up and go find him. 

“Steve?” you ask, seeing the downstairs light on. You walk down tentatively, wearing only one of his big shirts and your underwear. 

“Down here sweetie,” Steve calls back to you, and as you round the corner you realize he isn’t alone. 

You are met with a grinning Steve and Eddie, sitting next to each other casually on the couch as a horror movie of some sort plays quietly in the background.

You stop in your tracks, suddenly feeling very exposed. “Oh uh- s sorry I’ll change,” you say, about to turn back up the stairs. 

But Eddie’s voice rings out , stopping you in your tracks “Don’t change on my account,” he says. “I  don’t mind.”

“Yeah honey come sit, it’s okay,” Steve adds, waving you over to him. 

You look at your boyfriend questioningly, unused to him being so comfortable with you being exposed in front of his friends. But it seems like his relationship with Eddie is…different. You walk toward them slowly, feeling their eyes on you. You land in front of the couch where they’re both man-spreading, creating little to no space for you to join them. 

Eddie looks from you to Steve as you shift awkwardly in front of them. “She’s so pretty Steve,” Eddie says, and your eyes widen. Your nerves are buzzing through your body, mixed with an unknown excitement at being looked at like prey by the two men. 

“She is isn’t she?” Steve replies . He grabs your hand gently and pulls you to sit on his lap. You shift so you’re half on him, half off, one knee slightly brushing Eddie’s, and it makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. Your heart flutters slightly and a tinge of guilt enters your brain, but it clears as you feel Steve’s semi-hard on beneath you.

“What do you say when someone compliments you?” Steve asks, his voice low in your ear. You look at him nervously, his dominance coming through in front of the other boy. You feel weak. 

“Th-Thank you,” you whisper, before turning to curl your face into Steve, hiding. 

“Aw, and you’ve taught her manners. Such a good girl,” Eddie taunts, his voice condescending as he talks down to you. It’s different than when Steve says it. Steve is always so sweet and loving, but how Eddie says it is…almost rude, patronizing. And it makes you melt. The way they are talking to and about you, so condescending and casual, makes you start to slip down into a cloudy headspace - one you’re only used to being in with Steve.

“Did you need something sweetie?” Steve asks you softly. You shake your head into his neck. “Jus’ wanted to see where you were,” you admit. 

Steve kisses your forehead. “Okay honey. Then go back upstairs and let Daddy finish talking with his friend,” he says, moving you so you’re standing up again. 

Your breath hitches at the use of his title in front of the other boy. Your heart is pounding as you look at Eddie, who’s watching you with a devilish grin. You stand there, dumbfounded by the dynamic in the room, and so horribly turned on. 

Then, Eddie sits up, his boots shifting on the ground by the couch. “Didn’t you hear him? Go Upstairs,” he demands, his voice unwavering and strong. You’re shocked, unmoving. 

“Now,” Eddie commands, and it stirs you out of your frozen state. You nod quickly and nearly run up the stairs, both slightly frightened, and extremely flustered. You end up back in Steve’s room, your back against the door as you find yourself trying to catch your breath 

What just happened? 

-

You end up falling back asleep in Steve’s big bed, your mind drifting to thoughts of Steve…and Eddie. You almost feel guilty, but you also can’t help the burning feeling you have that Steve was doing this to you on purpose. 

You’re startled by Stevie coming to cuddle next to you in bed. 

“Hi Honey,” he whispers in the dim light, kissing your neck. 

“Mmmm, hi,” you hum, turning to face him. 

Steve smiles at your sleepy face. “Thank you for being so good for me earlier,” he says, moving some of your hair behind your ear. 

“Of course,” you reply. “Was a little surprised but…I kind of liked it,” you admit. But Steve already knew that. He knows you, knows what you like, knows what you might like. His smile grows. 

He sits up taller, guiding you to do the same. 

“I have..an idea,” he starts. He’s a little hesitant, and it makes you nervous. You look at him expectantly, grabbing his hand in encouragement. 

“Well,” he says, taking his lip between his teeth. “You know you’re mine, right baby?” He asks. 

You nod. 

“And when something is yours, you get to decide what to do with it,” Steve continues. Your heart is pounding, unsure of where he’s leading this. 

“And I want to lend you to Eddie.”

Your stomach drops. Lend you to Eddie? Meaning…

“He likes to play like we do, but he’s a little rougher. And I thought it would be nice to lend him my good little girl to play with. I know you’ve wanted to brat a little more and it’s hard in our dynamic…I’ll be there too to watch,” Steve explains. Your brain can barely process what he’s suggesting, but the heat in your cheeks , and between your legs, is telling. 

Steve observes you, taking in your flustered expression. “Is that something you’d like to do?” He asks. And you know that if you said no, he’d respect it- drop it completely. 

But you’re tempted. You can’t believe it’s even a possibility. And the thought of Steve watching while Eddie….

You nod, biting your lip as your eyes search Steve’s for confirmation. He takes your hands in his, squeezing tightly. “Y-yes,” you breathe out. “I think I’d like that a lot.”

A smirk spreads across his handsome face. “Good girl.”

-

And that’s how you ended up here, walking downstairs to await Eddie’s arrival to your “movie night”, or as Steve called it, your play date with the metal head. 

Steve had told Eddie of your hard limits, and explained the nature of your dynamic - how you’re a little bratty, very subby, and that you refer to him as Daddy. He let Eddie in on your nature, the way you react to certain things, some of what you two have explored and what you are interested in exploring more…He gave Eddie the full scope of your dynamic, and was excited to let him corrupt you even more.

You sit on the couch patiently, watching Steve as he disappears into the kitchen. Your heart is racing in anticipation. Your teeth are etched into your lip, biting as you try not to let your brain wander too far into what could possibly occur tonight. That’s when you hear it -

A knock on the door. 

Your head turns quickly at the sound, the knock ringing through the silent house. “Answer it baby,” Steve instructs you, poking his head from around the corner. 

You get up slowly, your legs feeling shaky with nerves. You’re not sure what to expect- you’ve never interacted with Eddie much by yourself, and you know Steve is here too but it’s still intimidating. You try to steady your breathing as your hand reaches for the door.

You open it slowly, revealing Eddie in all black, a flimsy black backpack with him. 

He’s smiling that wolffish grin at you, seeming to have little to no nerves about the situation at hand. His frame naturally towers over yours, and the darkness of his eyes adds makes your breathing stop. Your hand is clutching the doorknob, steadying yourself. 

“Hi little thing,” he smirks at you. “Aren’t you going to invite me in to play?” 

Your cheeks heat up and your eyes find your feet in embarrassment. You hear a small shuffle behind you and turn to see Steve watching the interaction , leaning against the wall. His presence calms you some, and his nod gives you the confidence to let Eddie in. 

“S-sorry. Hi Eddie,” you smile meekly at the tall boy, moving so he can walk past you into the house. You close the door behind him, locking it promptly. 

“It’s okay. You’ll learn,” he says confidently, sauntering past you and Steve, into the living room. 

Your eyes lock with Steve again. “You okay?” he mouths, checking in on you. 

You give him a silent, quick nod. You wanted to do this. And Steve wanted it too. You force your legs to move, guiding you into the living room where you see Eddie sitting on the couch. 

He’s man-spread, elbows on his knees as he watches you, waits for you. His gaze sends a warmth to your core, your nerves tumbling around and already starting to turn you on. 

You approach him and stand with your hands behind your back, your feet rubbing against each other in your white socks. “Can I get you something to drink?” you ask, your voice coming out barely above a whisper. You curse yourself for not being able to speak up, your nerves apparent.

A quirked smirk grows on Eddie’s face. His eyes flick behind you to Steve standing not too far away, observing the interaction. 

“No, thank you sweetheart,” Eddie responds. You move to sit next to him on the couch, unsure how close to sit to him, but as soon as your bum hits the couch, you’re stopped. 

“Ah - ah. No,” Eddie says, a hand coming to wrap around your wrist. His touch is cold, the rings on his fingers heavy and pressing against your skin. 

“Kneel,” he demands, his voice calm and direct, but stern in the way he addresses you. He points with his free hand to the spot in front of him. 

“Right there. In front of me,” he explains. You move slowly, processing the demand. It’s already starting. 

You’re not unfamiliar with the kneeling position, it’s demeaning and absolutely an assertion of power. It’s a way Steve likes to help you drop into subspace, putting you below him - you’ve just never done it for anyone else. You drop to your knees on the floor, your skin scraping the carpet, and sit on your heels. Eddie releases your wrist and you let it lay on your lap with your other hand. As you look up at him through big eyes, you feel small, powerless. The feeling sends electricity to your core. You squeeze your thighs together slightly for some relief. 

“That’s it,” Eddie praises you, making your heart flutter. He leans forward, a hand coming to cup your chin, tilting it up slightly. “This is where you belong,” he states. 

“Looks good like this, doesn’t she Harrington?” he asks the other boy, but keeps his stare on you. It’s taking everything in you not to fidget, to squirm, you know it wouldn’t go unnoticed. 

“You should see what she looks like with her mouth full,” Steve comments. His tone of voice sends your heart fucking racing. He sounds strong yet arrogant. Cocky and dominant. The typical softness in his voice that he uses on you gone as he watches the scene unfold in front of him.

Eddie chuckles, moving his thumb to swipe across your lower lip. Your mouth parts automatically at his action and his eyes light up at your obedience. “Gonna explain a few things to you, get some things straight in your pretty little head,” Eddie says. 

He removes his hand, but your head stays tilted up, focused on him and only him. He’s already got you dropping in quickly.. “You call me Sir, or Master. You call Steve Daddy. Understand?” He asks, eyebrows raising. 

You swallow thickly. “ Y-yes Sir,” you reply, the title foreign on your tongue. You’ve never used a title on anyone but Steve, it feels strange, but enticing. You can feel the wetness growing between your legs, and suddenly are reminded that you actually have no idea if you’ll even get relief tonight. 

“Good,” Eddie says. 

“Good girl,” Steve adds quietly from behind you, reminding you of his presence, that you’re safe and protected. 

“Daddy Steve said you know the stoplight system, yes?” Eddie asks. 

“Yes Sir,” you respond. “Green for good, yellow for slow, red for stop.”

“Mmhmm,” Eddie murmurs. He praises significantly less than Steve does. It makes you want to earn those precious words from him so badly. 

“Let’s practice.” 

Before you even comprehend it, a hand flies to your cheek, smacking you hard.  Harder than you’re used to. It shocks you, making your mouth fall open in a gasp. The sting on your cheek lingers as Eddie asks - “Color?” 

It takes a short second for you to process, to decide. “G-Green,” you land on, sure, as you feel the smile start to creep on your face, the adrenaline rushing into your veins. 

You’re playing. You’re really playing with Eddie, and Steve is here and your veins are absolutely buzzing . 

Eddie’s eyes light up at your response, his tongue poking out slightly between his pink lips. His hand raises again and 

SMACK. 

He slaps, or hits,  you in the face again, harder than before. He must have moved his rings to his other hand because you didn’t feel them, but your jaw is now slack. Your breathing is rigid, your face turned to the side from the impact of the hit. Out of the corner of your blurry eye you could see Steve coming closer, a slightly worried look on his handsome face . 

But he must not see the look on yours- one of a dropped in sub, the glazed over eyes, the buzzing in your body, the slight fog in your head. You felt high. You started giggling a little to yourself from the shock of the hit. 

“Color?”  Eddie asks again, his gaze searching your face , learning about your pain tolerance and limits. 

You slowly turn your face back to him, cheek red. Your eyes are glinting with something devious, something dark within you being awakened. 

“So fuckin’ green,” you smirk, not recognizing the confidence in your own voice.

Eddie’s head quirks slightly, but he knows what this is. He knows exactly how to handle a little brat - especially one who’s never been truly broken. 

At your words his hand launches to your throat, choking you harshly. Your smirk still remains, though you are surprised by the action. Eddie easily uses his strength to bring your neck to the couch, pinning you so you are now leaned against it, ass on the floor and back being arched to accommodate the position. 

He raises his hand and slaps you again, with slightly more force than before, on your other cheek. It stings , and the pain registers something deep within you that feels so good. Your pussy starts to clench around emptiness as you continue to be manhandled. 

 “Watch your fucking mouth,”  Eddie spits at you from above.

Another slap makes you lose your smirk, replaced with a grimace as you hiss slightly from the pain.

“Think Daddy needs to start hitting you harder with a nasty mouth like that,” Eddie growls as he releases your throat for a moment, making you cough slightly. You catch your breath and his hand wraps right back around the soft skin.

Steve snickers. “She’s just testing you. Told you she was a little brat.” You hadn’t realized he had taken place in the seat adjacent from the couch, one leg over the knee of his other as he watches Eddie take control of you. 

Everything about the situation was setting your insides on fire. You were subconsciously gyrating your hips, looking for some sort of friction in between your legs. You’re looking up at Eddie with big, glassy eyes, waiting for his next move. “Look at you, little slut, your pussy already making your brain go dumb?” Eddie patronizes you, looking at the way you’re moving your hips. 

You’re still locked into place with his hand on your throat, but you nod your head as best as you can. “Daddy was right, you like being roughed up don’t you?” Eddie asks, releasing your throat and standing up tall, your face even with the bulge in his tight black jeans.

“Yes Sir. I love it,” you reply, eyes bouncing between his above you and the outline of his cock in front of your face. 

Eddie looks back at Steve, who is smiling, cheeks starting to burn red, as he takes in the sight of you. Your hair is already a little messed up, your clothes twisted this way and that, and your cheeks were red from the slapping. Your eyes are glossy, not quite crying but glazed over as the blood is rushing all over your body straight to the throbbing area between your legs. 

Eddie leans over to the black backpack sitting near you and opens it slowly. You can’t see what he’s rummaging around, and the anticipation makes your heart speed up. You hear a clanging that is somewhat familiar as Eddie pulls out a pair of red leather handcuffs, held together with a black chain. Your eyes widen. 

“Harrington said you’ve used cuffs before,” Eddie says, twirling them around in his finger. 

You whine quietly at the memory, Steve having you handcuffed above your head as he fucked into you hard and fast. “But tell him what happened baby,” Steve says from across the room.

Your face immediately reddens, your lip being taken between your teeth. “I- I broke them,” you mumble under your breath, embarrassed. 

Eddie looks at you again, eyebrows raised, unlocking the entangled cuffs. “Speak up,” he demands. 

“I broke them,” you admit loudly. 

Eddie chuckles. Steve smiles at the memory, he had no idea you would resist them so much, breaking apart the cheap plastic within just a few minutes of putting them on you, all so you could put your hands in his hair while he fucked you. 

Eddie squats down, his face coming closer to yours as he holds the cuffs in front of you. “You won’t break these princess,” he states confidently. 

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the comment, the cockiness in his voice making you react just as crassly. 

Eddie slaps you across the face again, hard. The hit makes your chest rise and fall quickly, your breath catching in surprise. You didn’t see it coming , no warning, nothing. And now your face was stinging, a few small tears forming in your eyes as well. 

As much as you wanted it to make you submit further, it didn’t. The hard slap pissed you off. You’re not used to being handled so roughly, being manhandled like you were below him. It’s not that you don’t necessarily like it, you just weren’t going to let it happen without a fight. 

You stand up quickly, rubbing your cheek for a second as your eyes burn toward the man who just hit you again. He’s standing with his arms crossed, looking down at you with the cuffs in his hands as you look up at him, your jaw clenched as you try and withhold your anger. He snorts a small chuckle through his nose at the sight of you. 

“Baby…” Steve warns, slowly standing up himself as he sees the shift happening in you. Steve is used to you bratting against him a little bit, but not much considering there’s not much to brat against. You typically submit to him easily now, because you love it . But he still knows that part of you, the part that doesn’t do that for just anyone. It’s part of the reason why he wanted you and Eddie to play in the first place, he wanted you to be challenged in a way he has a hard time doing, partially because of his intense love for you, but also because he enjoys being soft with you. 

“Shut it Harrington,” Eddie says, holding a hand up to the other boy as his eyes stay on you. “Let’s see what the little girl is going to try and do,” Eddie smirks. This is his favorite game to play. 

Your hands are clenched in fists at your sides. “I’m not a little girl,” you assert, trying to sound strong. 

“Oh is that so?” Eddie challenges, stepping closer to you, dropping his arms so his chest is touching yours. You don’t take a step back, though. You keep your place, despite your knees starting to press up against the couch. He takes another step and you try and hold you place but it’s impossible, making you start to fall and sit on the couch. 

Eddie’s hand is quick to fly up into your hair, grabbing it harshly as you fall on the couch. You gasp and your hands fly up to meet his, but it’s no use in fighting back. The tug he has starts to sting your scalp, easily controlling your movements with his grip. “You look like a little girl to me,” He smirks, pulling your hair even more. 

“I’m NOT,” you protest, but it comes out as a small tantrum. You try to move your body but Eddie is stronger and bigger than you. He may not look it, but the control he has over his body is just as useful as having massive muscles. He forces your head down so you’re laying flat on the couch, your cheek smushed against a cushion. He moves one of his knees so it’s pushing your hips, making you lay so your chest and stomach are on the couch, your ass is pointed up in the air. He pins your legs down with an arm, then changes it with a leg, so his weight is keeping you in place. 

Your skirt flips over naturally, revealing your exposed ass and tiny little thong. You’re huffing, trying to wiggle your way out of Eddie’s grip, but the hold he has on your hair, mixed with being pinned under his weight makes it impossible. You grunt softly, resisting and resisting. But Eddie’s free hand grabs one of your own, then releases your hair and grabs your other hand. He pins them together against your back and quickly latches the cuffs around your wrists. Tight. You whine, kicking your feet in protest. 

“Thought you could fight me little girl? Look where you ended up,” Eddie says, a hand holding your two cuffed ones against your back while the other rubs over your exposed ass. 

“Fuck,” Steve sighs, his view of you immaculate. It’s a dream, seeing you face down, ass up with your hands cuffed, your ass exposed, your face all red and flustered. 

“Say you’re a little girl,” Eddie spits, his voice deep from above you. 

“Fuck you,” you spit back, not even thinking, still wiggling in his grip. He turns to Steve at your words. His cool demeanor diminishing as you continue to fight, helping him drop even more into a dominant space. 

“Remember she said that, Harrington,” Eddie says to Steve, talking as if you’re not there. Eddie brings his hand to unravel the belt off of his jeans, quickly taking it off and folding it. 

Your eyes meet Steve’s, unable to fully see what Eddie’s doing, but having an idea of what’s about to come. You’ve never been spanked with anything but Steve’s heavy hand. You think he might jump in and save you, but the darkness of his eyes tells you something different. 

Eddie rubs the leather belt over your ass and you shudder, the nerves radiating up and down your spine. “Are you a little girl?” Eddie asks again, a warning and a test, seeing how badly you want this. 

You brace yourself, you know what’s coming, but you want it. 

“No.” 

SMACK. The sound of the belt hitting your ass is loud, and the cry that leaves your throat matches it.  The thud of the belt lingers with a sting, and you swear there has to be an imprint of it already forming on your ass. You lurch forward, wanting to escape it, wanting some relief, but Eddie was there, holding you down. Tears  are forming in your eyes, but you tried your best to blink them back, trying not to let them fall after just one hit. 

You saw Steve move so he was closer to you, comforting you. “Baby, color?” He asks, all worry in his voice. 

You look up at him , your eyes teary. “Green Daddy,” you respond, your voice wavering. 

He nods back at you, then looks at Eddie, who’s smirking down at you. “She’s fine Harrington. With a nasty mouth like that, she better be able to take a hit,” Eddie says, trying to dismiss Steve’s worries. Eddie rubs a hand over your burning ass for a small moment of reprieve. 

“I’ll ask you again - are you a little girl?” Eddie questions, his voice dark and demanding. Steve seems to be holding his breath, waiting to see how you’ll answer, if you’ve broken. 

“Uh—n- I just-“ you start, but are interrupted by another sting of Eddie’s belt hitting your ass, launching you forward. The tears start to fall this time, the pain radiating through your backside and down your thighs. 

“There’s only one way to answer this. Are you a little girl, yes or no?” Eddie asks again, the pressure intensifying. Your brain is starting to go very fuzzy, barely processing the question through the pain on your lower half. Your breathing is short and stifled, hard to catch as the tears fall. 

“Too long,” Eddie mutters, landing another hit. 

“F-fuck,” you gasp, wriggling your hips, desperate for some relief from the pain. “I-I” you start, trying to get the words out, but it’s hard and you’re resistant, and the pain..

“You what?” Eddie says, grabbing your face in his hand roughly. “Say it- Say you’re a little girl,” he demands, his voice anything but kind. Your tear stained cheeks are squished beneath his grip. 

He tuts, about to raise his hand for another hit because of your hesitation. 

“I’m a little girl,” you say quickly, desperate to escape another hit. 

Steve’s jaw drops open at your admission, stunned to see you so small and desperate. His cock throbs in his pants and he resists palming himself in front of you. Eddie’s tongue pokes out of his mouth, giving your cheeks a small squeeze of affirmation. 

“That’s right. And who do you belong to little girl?” Eddie asks, his eyes dark and wide. 

Your breathing is heavy, the feeling of being so small and helpless making your core ache. “D-daddy,” you say softly, eyes trained on Eddie. 

Eddie smiles. “That’s right baby,” he praises. “And for tonight, who else do you belong to?” He asks, pushing the boundary ever so slightly, wanting you to submit to him.

Your eyes water, the intimidation cracking you along with the ache in your backside, and the gnawing of need between your legs. You are so desperate to move, to please him, to get something. 

“You,” you whisper. 

It’s like everything starts to slow after you say it. You can feel the tension from resisting start to leave your body, the pain of the previous hits being forgotten. All you could focus on is Eddie, the grip he has on your jaw, and the grip he has on your mind. 

“That’s it. Me,” Eddie smiles, a dark hush to his voice, as if you two were sharing a secret. “Say it, baby. Say you belong to me tonight,” Eddie encourages, his eyes dark and soft and absolutely intoxicating. 

“I-,” you start, gulping as you try to formulate the sentence in your cloudy brain. “I belong to you tonight, Master,” you repeat. As the words leave your mouth, a gush flows through your core, and you release a small whimper, moving your hips slightly. 

“Good girl,” Eddie praises, giving you a light tap on your bruised butt. He unhooks the chain of the handcuffs and your arms fall immediately to your side. He taps your legs softly, a small order of encouragement. “Sit up,” he says, his voice just a hint softer than before. 

You do as your told without hesitation, grateful for your wrists being released and your ass being spared. You sit up and face Eddie, who’s squatting slightly in front of you. He smiles at your dazed expression. A subby little girl in front of him. 

He raises a hand to your face slowly, and surprisingly, you don’t flinch. You let him move some of your hair out of your face softly, then trace down to press on your plump lips. He’s playing with you. “If I touched between your legs, little one, what would I find?” Eddie asks, his voice taunting. 

Your eyebrows knit together at the question and you whine, desperate for his touch. Eddie’s eyes flick quickly to Steve, as if saying ‘look at this. Look how desperate she is’. Eddie brings his hand slowly down your front, a finger tracing lightly over your peaked nipples, making you shudder. He chuckles softly at the reaction, but continues the journey lower and lower. Until his hand is on top of your thigh, squeezing tightly. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” He asks, his fingers dancing ever so slowly in front of your middle. 

You nod. 

Steve speaks up from near you, reminding you of his presence. “Words baby,” he encourages, his fingers playing with his own lips as he watches. 

“Yes p-please Master” you breathe, desperate for his touch. 

Eddie lets his calloused fingers press into your core over your soaked panties, and the contact makes you moan. “So wet,” he mutters. “Little slut likes being hit, don’t you?” He taunts. 

You whine again in response, jutting your hips to get more friction against your core. Eddie slides his fingers past your underwear and against your puffy, slick folds, your sweet scent being wafted between the two of you. Your hands fly up to his shoulders, steadying yourself as he presses a finger inside of you. 

Your moan is fucking unholy. 

Your eyes flutter and you grip Eddie’s shoulders tightly as he slowly presses his finger in and out of you, eliciting a squelch from your aroused pussy. 

“Your cock fits in this tight little cunt Harrington? I’m shocked,” Eddie comments, going knuckle deep into you, making your head fall to his shoulder next to your hand. 

Steve’s lip is between his teeth as he sits on the far edge of the couch and watches you fall apart. “She squeezes it right out of me Munson,” Steve says, and hearing his raspy, lust filled voice makes you moan again. 

Eddie sets a pace that is agonizing, just slow enough to hit that spot deep inside of you, but not quick enough to build you fully to any sort of climax. He’s warming you up, playing with you, making you addicted to his touch. 

“Please please please,” you mumble, the words falling out of your lips as a desperate plea to the boy. 

Eddie chuckles. “Don’t be greedy,” he says. “You’re lucky I’m touching you at all after acting out like that.” 

You whine again at his response. “”M sorry so sorry,” you mumble incoherently, trying to grind your hips into his now two fingers, faster and faster. But his other hand presses against your hips, stopping you, then comes up to your throat, moving you so your face is nose to nose with his own. 

“We’ll see if I let you cum tonight,” he tells you. “You’re going to have to be very, very good for me if you want that to happen.”

“I’ll be good, I’ll be good Master,” you choke out, his pace increasing inside of you. Your breath is becoming shallow as his fingers curl to exactly where you need him. There’s a dampness building on the couch underneath you, the mess that is you becoming evidence. 

“Be a good little slut,” he mutters, getting caught up in your sounds and the heat between your legs, seeing you start to writhe and shake as he starts to pound into you. Your pussy clenches around his fingers and he knows you’re getting close. He drops his other hand to rub circles on your clit. 

“F-fuck fuck,” you gasp. “I’m a good little slut, I promise I-“ you gasp, too caught up in the pleasure. 

Eddie stops touching your clit, stopping what he was building deep within you. Your eyes shoot open in protest. But he raises the hand to your cheek and delivers a harsh slap. You’re dazed, your body not sure how to delineate between the pain of the slap and pleasure in your cunt. You just stare at him wide-eyed, no protest, no nothing. 

You’re absolutely gone. 

He delivers another slap to you as he fucks your cunt with his fingers. Your eyes roll, you feel the pressure building again, the same one you lost without his touch on your clit building without it. The slap making you get closer and closer to that edge, closer to the release you so desperately need - 

And then he stops completely, pulling his fingers out of you. 

You whimper. “No! No- no no no,” you try and grab at his hands and he stops you, taking both of your wrists in one of his hands. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie says, his fingers pressing into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

“Arms up,” he demands. You do as he says, spit forming around his fingers as he reaches to pull your shirt over your head. He eyes your tits before giving each of them a quick slap, making you gasp around the digits in your mouth. 

Eddie starts moving his fingers around, gathering your spit and then pushing them slowly down your throat. “Daddy said you can almost take his cock all the way down your throat,” Eddie says, toying with your mouth. You whimper in response.

“I’m going to help train you.” 

Eddie pulls his fingers from your mouth, making you gasp and giving you a quick moment to breathe. But the sight in front of you has you drooling anyway. Eddie pulls off his jacket and shirt, baring his pale skin littered with black ink. And then slowly pushes his pants and boxers down, springing free a very hard, very thick cock that bounces up to his his low pelvis. He’s big, not bigger than Steve, but still big. And thick. So thick. You gulp. 

The precum gathering at his tip makes your thighs clench, desperate to have him inside of you. And by the look of how pink and swollen he is, he wants to be inside of you too. 

His hand finds the base of his cock, pumping a few times before guiding it toward your mouth. You open eagerly, wanting to taste him, wanting to please him. 

You look up at him from your knees, eyes wide, mouth open and tongue out, and he groans lowly at the sight. “Sexy little thing, you are,” he says, pushing his tip just past your lips. 

You moan around him, the taste of him filling your senses, making your cunt clench around nothing. You start to urge your head forward, but he stops you, grabbing a fist full of your hair and directing your gaze upwards. 

“I’m going to guide you,” he explains. “You just keep your slutty mouth and throat open, and if you need to stop, tap my thigh twice,” he instructs. 

His grip on your hair tightens as you nod, taking him deeper into your mouth, letting your tongue brush the underside of his cock. He groans deep and gravelly, the sound going right to your core, as he continues to push himself into your mouth.

“Squeeze your thumbs,” Eddie says. “It helps with the f-fuck, helps with gagging” he explains. You do as you’re told, squeezing your thumbs as he presses to the back of your throat. You do everything you can to breathe through your nose, despite it being almost fully pressed against his pelvis. You never get to be nose to bush with Steve, you always get stuck right when he hits the back of your throat. But Eddie presses on slowly, and you squeeze your thumbs as you feel him slide past your throat, clenching it around him as it closes off your airway.

“That’s it. Good fucking whore,” He praises you, his grip on your hair tight. That, mixed with this cock in your throat makes your eyes squeeze, starting to water yet again. 

“Take my cock down your throat,” he grunts, pulling out slightly before pressing back in deep again. 

You gag softly around his cock, not much, but constricting enough to make him pull out slightly. “Relax. Yeah that’s it, breathe through your nose,” he guides you. 

He moves his cock in and out again, deeper and deeper, drool dripping down your chin now. His hand comes to give your face a small tap of encouragement, making your already red face even more pink. He starts to pick up his speed slightly, but keeps the depth at which he’s fucking your throat. 

“Keep breathing. Yeah, gonna speed up, just take it,” He grunts, his eyes closing quickly as he feels you constrict around him again. “Take it. Yeah fuck, you can take it,” he encourages you, thrusting faster in and out of your mouth. “Brain off, throat open.”

He’s fully face fucking you now, and you can’t think about anything else except letting it happen. Your throat is relaxed, your breathing is steady and your pussy is soaking fucking wet. 

He reaches down to give your tits a slap again and you whine around his cock, which makes him groan even more. “Fuck this,” he says suddenly, pulling out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air and wiping the drool that’s collected down your face and onto your chest. 

He pulls you up by your throat and throws you back on the couch, making you land on all fours. He roughly pulls down your panties and gives your ass a harsh slap, but instead of yelping, you moan at the pain, everything feeling intoxicating at this point. 

He spreads your ass cheeks as you look back at him pumping himself, preparing to push himself into your tight dripping pussy. “Not gonna go easy on you,” he says, his eyes dark as they meet yours. 

“Don’t, Master,” you say, and he smiles back at you, grabbing your hips and pressing his tip up against your hole. 

His grip on your hips is tight and harsh, leaving Eddie shaped bruises. But you don’t even care as you feel his cock start to split you open, finally giving you what you want. You groan trying to push yourself back onto him.

He stops you, slapping your ass hard. “Stay fucking still,” he says, spanking you again hard. You whine but submit, falling so your head is on the couch, and waiting patiently and painfully for him to press fully into you. “You want my cock sweetheart?” He teases you, pushing just enough for you to feel him but not enough to slip inside of you. 

You groan. “Fuck - fuck yes, please,” you say, breathless as you wait. 

“Aw, she’s so desperate,” Eddie patronizes you, slapping his cock against your cunt, making you shiver. You start to tear up from desperation, just needing to be filled, needing to be used so badly after being played with for so long. 

“P-please fuck me,” you cry into the couch, embarrassed and defeated. 

Eddie smacks your ass again and you don’t even jump. “What was that? Can’t hear you baby,” he mocks you. 

You get up on your elbows, breath quick. “Please just fuck me PLEASE I need you-“ you start to beg, and only stop when he presses fully into you, bottoming out right away, the sound of your pussy sucking him in filling the room, mixed with both of your moans of pleasure. 

Your head falls back on the couch, body giving in as Eddie rocks himself in and out of you, stretching your pussy wide open with his girth. His hands are rough on your hips and ass. The sound of his heavy balls hitting your cunt echoes through the house. 

“Oh my- Fu-fuck yes yes,” you moan, gripping the cushions as Eddie pounds into you at a relentless speed. It’s almost not pleasurable, how hard and fast he’s going, but with how pent up you’ve been feeling, it’s fucking perfect. 

“Such a good girl, taking my cock,” Eddie groans through gritted teeth, feeling you squeeze him perfectly as he pulls out and slams into you time and time again. In and out in and out and in and out - 

You didn’t even realize tears were streaming down your face, your orgasm slowly approaching as Eddie reaches a hand around your legs to rub your clit. Your moans turn into high pitched gasps as you get closer and closer, your body giving in completely to the pain and pleasure. 

“Master,” you gasp, unable to fully form words. 

Eddie brings his hand to wrap around your throat, pulling you up toward him as he continue to ruthlessly fuck into you, your orgasm teetering on the edge. He pulls you up so you face Steve, who’s staring at your messy, teary face and whining open mouth. He’s never seen you so absolutely ruined- whimpering and begging. You can’t do anything but continue to look at him as you feel Eddie pump into you, your bruised body moving with his own. 

Eddie’s hand moves so it’s firmly holding your jaw. He whispers roughly into your ear, “See that? Steve is letting me do this to you. He fucking loves it.” You moan, seeing the outline of Steve’s hard cock in his pants, knowing that Eddie is right, Steve loves everything about this.

“And you know,” Eddie continues, eliciting an obscene moan from you. “I think now he might want to see you like this more often, maybe even try and do this to you himself.” 

Your breath catches at the thought. Steve is nodding at you, his eyes blown out as he takes you in. Your cunt is clenching around Eddie and your brain is absolutely fucked out. 

Eddie can feel it. “Ask me to cum,” He demands. You don’t respond, and he slaps your face harshly. “Ask me before you fucking cum,” he orders you. 

“C-Can I please cum Master? Fuck- oh fuck,” you manage to moan out, barely holding off. 

“Cum for me,” Eddie whispers, and you do. Unraveling completely in his hold, shaking and moaning, letting the white hot energy inside of you explode in a way it hasn’t before. Your vision goes white, your body buzzes, and you end up face down completely on the couch, a moaning, crying, drooling mess.

You’re shaking still, small aftershocks of your orgasm hitting you as Eddie leans down, his full body weight on you as he chases his own high. You whine and whine, feeling an out of body, but so in your body, high. 

“Fuck, cum Eds, do it,” Steve says, palming his own bulge as he watches Eddie pound into your weak body. 

“Can’t hold off any more. Ugh fuck-f this cunt is so fucking good,” Eddie moans, his thrusts sloppy as he starts to fend off his own orgasm. He pulls out quickly, too quickly for your liking, and releases all over your ass and back, moaning as his messy hair falls over his sweaty face. 

He shoots rope after rope of hot cum on you, and you moan lowly as you watch him through heavy, hooded eyes. He finishes, twitching slightly as he releases his cock from his hand, and leans over to kiss your bruised ass, your sore back, your bruised hips..

All three of you are breathing heavily in silence, the smell of sex flooding your senses.

After a moment, Steve speaks. “Holy fuck baby,” Steve says, coming to your face, kissing you all over, despite the damp sweat of sex that’s covering you. Eddie moves off the couch and pulls out a small rag from his bag, wiping his seed off of you gently. 

“Gonna go get you some water baby. You okay? Fuck you’re so sexy,” Steve says, his words falling out of him quickly as he examines your face and body. You nod weakly in response, mumbling a soft “ yes daddy,” as your eyes barely stay open. 

Steve runs to the kitchen and Eddie comes next to you, sitting you up some so you can rest your head in his now clothed lap. He pets your hair softly, and it takes everything in you not to fall asleep right away. “Hi Eds,” you mumble, reaching a hand up to brush at his chest softly. 

He chuckles at your soft voice, raspy from tonight’s events. “Hi cute girl,” he smiles. 

Steve comes running back in the room with waters and candy and a blanket. You smile softly as he raises the water bottle to your mouth and drapes the blanket over your bruised skin. He hands the other bottle to Eddie, who chugs it quickly. 

Steve lifts your legs so he can sit, and then lays them back on his lap, rubbing your backside softly to soothe you. 

“Was everything okay sweetheart?” Eddie asks, his voice soft and sweet, a stark comparison to his previous tone. 

“Mmhmm,” You nod slowly in his lap. 

“Are you okay? Do you need anything or-“ Steve starts to ramble, worried about you.

“Perfect,” you mumble, interrupting his worried thoughts. 

“You’re perfect,” Steve comments. “You’re-You’re both perfect,” he continues, eyes flitting towards Eddie above your tired body. Eddie smiles at him, blushing slightly at the comment from the other boy. 

“You’re not too bad yourself Harrington,” Eddie teases, letting a hand gently push the other boy’s shoulder. 

But Steve feels the touch linger. And so does Eddie. And you feel at home with both of them cuddling you, holding you. 

Steve scoots closer to Eddie, their thighs touching, and your body laying on both of them as you roll so your face is against Eddie’s abdomen. Your lips form a small pout as you give his abdomen a little kiss, making Eddie smile. 

The metalhead leans down to give your forehead a kiss back, and you nuzzle closer in to him, inhaling his scent.  You reach a hand toward Steve, holding his hand against your chest as you start to drift off to sleep. 

And you’re not sure if you dream it, or if it really happened, but you swear you feel Eddie’s weight shift slightly as he leans over, and kisses Steve’s cheek too. 

And maybe you hear Steve huff a small sigh of satisfaction as he turns his head to the other boy and gives him a chaste kiss on the cheek back, before leaning his head onto his shoulder.

No one knew what day of the week it was, you only knew when you had to work next – not today – and time didn’t matter. All anyone wanted to do was spend time with each other, normal time, not running-away-from-flesh-eating-bats-time, and it felt perfect. You wished you could stay like this forever.

Stretched out on a lounger, you were the picture of summer wearing a tangerine bikini, a stolen pair of Steve’s aviators, and camped out next to a cooler full of beer and Coke. Whenever you felt your skin protesting against the sun you’d jump into the pool to cool off, but hurried right back to your chair after.

Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Will had spent most of the day trying to shove Max and El in the water, but were thwarted almost every time. I mean, c’mon, it’s El. Like she could’t sense it? Robin and Eddie found their little patch of shade under the only tree in the backyard and passed a joint back and forth until their eyes were glassy and heavy, lips permanently curved into lazy smiles. And Steve? Well. What Steve wanted to be doing and what he was actually doing were two very different things.

He couldn’t help his lifeguard instincts around the pool, sniping at the kids over all kinds of shit – out of love, obviously – but every single time he turned away it was to look at you.

You. Wearing his sunglasses. Your tangerine bikini hugging your curves just right, not leaving much to the imagination. The scent of your coconut sunscreen and citrus shampoo mixed with chlorine and Cherry Coke teasing him every time he walked by, it was almost painful.

Then, finally, the others hauled themselves out of the pool, tired from the heat and shoving each around and playing chicken and summer. You grinned watching as Mike and Lucas both sleepily settled their heads into El’s and Max’s laps atop their towels. Dustin and Will were off talking about Suzie and their next D&D campaign. And Robin and Eddie…well. They were there, but not there, and Steve had picked up the pool net to scoop out the few stray bits of crap the others had dragged into the water.

God. It was like he existed for summer. Like he was made for it. His skin all golden, kissed by the sun and dotted in freckles. Hair, just a touch lighter than it was in the winter, hanging across his dewy forehead. The muscles in his arms tensing and relaxing as he pushed and pulled the pool net through the water. Turquoise swim shorts dripping water, plip plip plip on the patio, clinging to his legs. Sunglasses perched on his head so that he couldn’t hide it if he snuck glances of you over there wearing his aviators.

You could feel his gaze wander up your long legs, your thighs, the soft curve of your hips, that damn tangerine top. And when you lifted a hand to take off your glasses, the grin you gave him was almost cruel. “Looking for something, Harrington?” you called across the patio.

Despite his tanned skin, the flush that rose in his cheeks could be seen from where you were sitting. “What?” fell out of his mouth, dumb in the summer sun, and he propped himself up against the pool skimmer, clearly caught. But then he recovered, just so very Steve. “Just admiring the view,” he gave you a grin of his own and it was your turn to blush.

Biting in your lower lip you put his aviators aside and smirked. “Nice day, hm?” you snarked, swinging your legs over the side of the lounger to stand.

“Oh, definitely a heat advisory in effect,” Steve teased back, discarding the skimmer on the patio at his feet, finally unable to keep himself away from you any longer.

Walking with a purpose he closed the gap between the two of you and took your face in his hands and pressed a heady kiss to your mouth, catching your lower lip between his. You tasted like popsicles and Cherry Coke.

“What was that for?” you murmured against his lips, his hands still holding onto your cheeks as your hands wandered up to rest on his chest.

“For not eating pizza in the pool,” he grinned against you as he went in for another kiss and then leaned in close, his lips to your ear, “I forgot something inside.”

It was so hot, the sun beating down on both of you, but you shivered at his words as goosebumps trailed along your neck. Laughing you tilted your head so that you could meet his gaze and when your eyes met your grin softened and fell. Steve’s eyes. Deep pools of caramel swimming with tiny flecks of hazel and gold. Long brown lashes sweeping his cheeks. Steve. He only had eyes for you.

“I’ll come with you,” your voice was barely above a whisper as you felt a heat rising in your core that had absolutely nothing to do with the hot Indiana sun, and without hesitation his hand was tangling with yours, pulling you through the slider door and up the stairs.

Steve kicked the door shut as you both tumbled into his room and he caught your lips in another kiss before pressing more down your jaw, your neck, to the little hollow behind your ear.

It was hot, the air in his room upstairs was warm and thick and his hands were everywhere all at once. Wandering across the small of your back, trailing the length of your arms, tugging your hips into his. It all made you dizzy, but you kept up.

Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you spun him around and pushed him down onto his bed. His eyes went wide for a split second, surprised at the show of confidence, but he came back down from it and grinned up at you. “So damn pretty,” he murmured and you knew he meant it.

“I could say the same to you,” you purred before diving down against him, your bodies finally pressing together, skin meeting skin around your bikini and his trunks. It felt electric. You’d both wanted nothing more after watching each other in the heat, dripping with the glittering turquoise of the pool, longing to look, to touch, to feel.

A groan escaped him as you trailed kisses along his shoulder and up against his stubbled jaw before settling your mouth on his, lightly pulling on his lower lip.

“Been wanting to do this all day,” he mumbled, fingers fumbling with the tie of your top, cinched snug against your body. As it came undone it fell down onto his chest and he stopped short, hands holding onto your waist for dear life. He looked at you like you were the only thing that existed in that moment. You were the only thing that existed in that moment. “Damn,” it was almost reverent, in awe of you. Every curve, every dip, the very softness of you.

Giving him a small smile you leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear, and simply whispered his name. Pulling back the look you gave him shattered any kind of control he’d been grasping onto and he loosed a heavy breath.

In one fell swoop Steve lifted you off of him easily, tossing you down on the bed before bringing his needy mouth to your sun kissed skin again, body meeting yours. You could feel him against you, could feel much he wanted you, and the heat pooling between your legs told you you wanted him just as much.

Steve bit your shoulder gently and he smirked when you sucked in a gasp. “Shit,” you hissed, half laughing half moaning at the kisses he started trailing down your chest and along the soft curve of your breasts.

His face moved down your body, mouth touching every bit of you he could, and then he paused and flicked his eyes up to look at you. “What?” his tongue ran along his lower lip as he grinned, knowing full well what he was doing to you.

Brow furrowing you propped yourself up on your elbows and opened your mouth to reply, but it promptly clamped shut when he slipped his mouth over your nipple, eliciting another moan from your lips. Your head fell back against the sheets as your hands moved to tangle in his hair. “Want you,” was all you could manage, your lips parted as your breath hitched in your throat.

“I know,” Steve’s voice was low, rough, and the grin he’d given you was long gone, pupils blown wide – fuck, he wanted you too. He pushed himself up for only as long as it took to yank his trunks off, his fingers deftly untying your bikini bottoms before tugging them out from under your ass and throwing them unceremoniously to the floor.

Standing at the edge of the bed he stopped and took in the vision you were, all soft curves and tan lines and freckles. Coconut sunscreen and cherry red lips. He leaned forward and ran his hands up your calves, hooking his palms behind your knees, and pulled you to the edge of the bed as he knelt down. Steve couldn’t take his eyes away from yours even as his hands moved to spread your legs apart, thumbs pressing into your thighs.

His fingers swept inward, slipping against the slick between your legs and you saw his eyes flutter closed for a second as he touched you, felt you, jaw clenching as he groaned, “So wet baby, is that for me?”

“Mhmm,” your mumbled yes was tangled up with another moan as he slipped first one finger then two inside of you, his thumb taking up a slow, languid pace as it traced circles over your clit. Steve was so good to you. Took care of you. You came first, always.

He easily found a rhythm as his fingers slipped in and out, in and out, in and out. It was wrecking you and as he picked up the pace your whimpers grew to moans despite biting down on your bottom lip. “You’re so good, baby,” he pressed kisses to your inner thigh, “Want you to come for me.”

Your heart was fluttering in your chest, like a hummingbird caught in your ribcage, frantic and seeking release. One hand still tangled in his hair, the other desperately clinging onto a fistful of sheets as you felt yourself racing closer to the edge. He made you feel so good, his fingers were so good, but he was too far away. You wanted him on you, crushing into you, fucking you.

“Steve,” breathless you begged, “Need you.” And he slowed, knowing exactly what you wanted. What you needed.

“Yeah, okay baby,” he reassured you, climbing over the top of you as he fumbled in his nightstand drawer and grabbed a condom, tearing the foil between his teeth and thumb. Kneeling with a leg on either side of your hips he slid it over his length, pumping his hand up and down a few times before fitting himself between your legs. You were so wet, sweet like honey, and his heart was pounding in his chest when he looked up into your eyes.

He slowly eased himself into you, feeling how tight you were on him, and he let out a groan. “Jesus Christ,” his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out, you felt so fucking good, but he quickly opened them again to look down at you. “Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you felt your body slowly relax as you adjusted to the way he filled you, letting out a sigh, the most perfect melody to his ears, “M’okay.”

ALifting a hand to gently brush your hair away from your dewy forehead he took you in. “So pretty,” he whispered, "So damn beautiful." And then started rocking into you, your hips rising to meet him with each thrust. Slow at first, his forehead falling down to meet yours, one hand holding him over you as the other tangled your fingers with his.

“Oh shit,” Steve hissed as he picked up the pace, both of you panting with the effort as you pushed each other closer and closer to your breaking point. You looked up at him as he fucked into you, his pretty lips parted as he sucked in breaths, moving faster and faster chasing his high.

Letting your hand go he moved his fingers back down to your clit and moved them in slick, heavy circles and the moan you loosed then almost shattered him. “Oh–oh god, Steve, I’m gon-gonna come,” you were gasping for air, as the movements of his fingers grew messy and faster, wanting you to find release before he did, your name leaving his lips over and over like a prayer. And then something in you snapped and your hips bucked heavy against his, your hand flying up to hold onto his bicep like a lifeline as each wave of your climax washed over you.

“Fuck, me too, so close,” Steve’s face almost looked pained as his movements grew hurried and uneven, and then finally his rhythm broke too and his lips parted as his breath hitched in his throat. He finished fast as you clenched around him, guiding him up and over the edge and slowly he rocked his hips to a stand still, both of you messy and sweaty and wrecked.

Letting his head fall forward Steve buried his face in you, pressing light kisses to your collarbone, the crook of your neck, your cheek. He smirked, exhaustion creeping over both of you, and brought his lips to yours, “It’s that damn bikini.”

Laughing you slowly moved to cup his face in your hands and shook your head. “Mental note to wear it more often,” your own little grin tugged up at the corners of you lips as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Steve laughed, but it was cut short as he eased out of you and collapsed onto the bed next to you, the fan on the ceiling pushing the warm, thick, summer air around his room. Resting your head on his chest as he settled, you listened to his heartbeat thud, thud, thud against your ear, your breathing slowly evening out along with his.

He ran his fingers through your hair idly, humming low and content, and kissed the top of your head. “So–” he started, voice tired and gravely, but happy, “I…I wanted to tell you that…uh, what I mean is…shit.”

“What is it?” propping yourself up against his chest you looked at him, concern knitting your brow together.

He caught the worry in your eyes and quickly shook his head, his hand finding yours and turning it over to press a kiss to your palm. “No, no nothing bad!” he reassured you quickly, his cheeks flushing pink. “I just,” he sighed, an uncharacteristically nervous laugh escaping him, “I just wanted to tell you I love yo–”

“Steve!”

“It wasn’t my fault–”

“Mike told me to–”

“I did not!”

Voices carried up through the open window cutting Steve off and he jammed his tongue into his cheek. Someone was gonna get it.

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?” irritation gave Steve a second wind and he crossed the room so fast you couldn’t help laughing as you watched his bare ass stop at the window sill. “I’m a little busy here!” he yelled down at the boys, but then you saw his expression change. “Wait, who the hell got pizza in the pool??”

Quiet. Then a barrage of voices.

“Dustin was hungry–”

“I told him it wasn’t allowed, Steve–”

“You know how he is!”

“They’re all lying, Steve!”

Putting both hands over his face he groaned, loud and exaggerated, before letting them drop to his sides. He thought for a moment, then decided he didn’t care and threw his hands up in defeat.

“You know what? You figure it out,” he shouted back down at them and then pulled the sheer curtains shut before coming back to bed.

Laughing he tossed the sheet over both of you, pulling you in close, smiling against your skin, his hands holding you soft and gentle and then he finally whispered against your ear what it was he was trying to tell you all that time.

Secretly, he’s been silently hoping you would just figure out his feelings by yourself  already, so he wouldn’t have to muster up the courage to tell you himself. 

It’s genuinely concerning you haven’t noticed already; he shows you his infatuation nearly every time you two are together. He’ll kneel down to tie your shoe for you when it comes undone. And he constantly calls you “just to hear your voice.” And he’ll rub your arms in the freezer section of the grocery store so you don’t get cold because you refuse to just take his jacket. And he still wears that silly friendship bracelet you made him in the tenth grade because he’s too afraid to lose it if he takes it off. And he always, without a doubt, gives you half of his food at the diner, even if he hasn’t eaten all day. 

The poor boy’s practically obsessed with you, but you never seem to notice – always off in your own little world, leaving Steve to trail behind you like a lovesick, little puppy.

But he doing the whole puppy dog act tonight. He wasn’t doing anything tonight. He was a wet blanket dripping all over the booth tonight. And he was acting nervous. 

And you still couldn’t figure out why. 

So, by the time you both finished dinner and your waitress brought the check, you were just a touch annoyed.

“‘How’d it go?’” you repeated, truthfully understanding the question, but just wanting to give Steve a hard time. 

“Sure, you know. The first time we met… how’d it go?” he asks again, unsure how to make himself any clearer.

Under the table, his foot had started to mimic the nervous tapping of his fingers. Your eyes snapped to his hand, then the bottom lip between his teeth (nervous habit), then down to your purse next to you in the booth.

“Well,” your brows furrow at the check near the end of the table as you blindly start feeling around your purse for some bills, “I seem to recall it was at the mall? You were in that adorable getup with the hat and the socks… and Robin was there–” You turn your full attention down to your purse, looking at it, offended. 

Steve’s eyes narrow on you from across the booth.

“Ah!” You finally pull a crumbled up twenty from the bottomless pit that is your purse. 

He really needs to remind you to clean that thing out again. 

“Where was I?” you ask innocently over at him, “Oh, right. Robin… Robin, Robin. Oh! She told me you were gonna hit on me and that I should shoot you down no matter what.” You finish with a triumphant smile, the memory drifting back into your mind. 

He’s always liked when you smile like that. Like he’s the butt of the joke.

“Right right,” he nods, eyes dropping back to the empty glass in front of him.

You seem to be waiting for him to just come out with it, to just say whatever it is that’s been eating him all night.

But he can’t. Something about the moment feels off.

He’s afraid to peek up and catch your icy glare drilling into him, until he hears you let out another huff as you start shimmying out of the diner booth without him.

“Wh–?” You were already halfway towards the door. His hand swipes up the twenty-dollar bill you left as he digs into his back pocket for his own wallet. He tugs out a twenty of his own and  replaces it on the table. He tosses out a five as well – should be enough for a tip – before he spots the forgotten purse on your seat and swipes that up, too, sticking your money back in the rightful pocket of your bag before jogging after you.

He's caught up to you just as you've reached the diner door, and you quickly drop it in his face, opting instead to head towards his car in a dramatic huff. 

Eyes rolling, Steve swings the glass door back open, his foot making it about half-way through the exit before the hostess calls out to him.

"You finally gonna bite the bullet and tell her tonight, Stevie boy?" she chides him.

"Har, har, Janet. Very funny," he grumbles, tucking your purse under his arm to preserve some of his dignity.

"See you next week, Harrington," she chuckles, looking back down at the desk in front of her.

God. Is he that obvious?

Shaking the fear from his mind, he bursts back out into the warm, summer air, trailing a step or two after you.

"I didn’t hit on you, by the way," he insists, unlocking the car and jogging over to open the passenger side for you.

You slide in, your belly laugh cut off as he closes the door on you. 

Once again, he's found himself to be the butt of the joke. He still doesn't mind all that much.

A smile starts to creep onto his lips upon hearing your laughter, but the grin quickly fades as he remembers the severity of his situation. Steeling his nerves, Steve strides around the hood to the driver's seat.

You're just gonna… go in there and just...Tell her. Just say what you feel, Harrington, c'mon. Best case scenario, she feels the same. Worst case scenario, she laughs in your face.

He grips the door handle, but can't seem to muster up the courage to get in just yet. He catches sight of you through the window, riffling through his glovebox, no doubt looking for the mixtape he made for you all those months ago. You spot the one with his writing on the side – crisp, clean – like he took far too much care in writing it. It's just your name on the side, nothing fancy, but he wanted to make it clear this tape was for you in particular. No one else.

Christ, you're becoming a problem.

He grits his teeth and hops inside as you load up the tape, still chuckling to yourself from earlier. Steve bites back another smile.

"Why's that funny? I didn't hit on you when you came in, I was perfectly civil–"

"Steve, you asked me what color lipstick I was wearing and if I had any plans that night," you shoot him a smirk as you reach for your seatbelt.

A blush warms his cheeks at the memory; he thought you would have forgotten.

He clears his throat and starts the ignition, turning in his seat and throwing his arm around your headrest to reverse, actively avoiding your gaze.

"I– uh, don't remember that."

"You're such a terrible liar, Steve," you smile through the words, whistfully, like he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

A chuckle bubbles up in his chest and he can't help but peek over at your smile. Now fussing with the buttons of the stereo, you listen for the song you want to hear.

You look pretty just sitting in his passenger seat, the sun gently setting through the whisps of your hair. 

His eyes snap back to his rear window.

The car jolts to life as it swings out of the parking lot. Steve knows the way to your house by heart, but he always insists on taking the longer route back on Fridays.

"I'm actually an amazing liar, thank you very much," he mutters casually, adjusting his rearview mirror and merging onto the road.

"No, Steve, you're not," you finally find the right song and turn up the volume a touch - loud enough to hear the lyrics, but soft enough for you two to hold a conversation. 

Steve likes this song. He likes all the songs on this tape because they remind him of you – Friday night drives back to your place, close proximity in his car, those butterflies in his stomach when your gaze turns on him.

"Y/N, I am so good at poker, your brain couldn’t even handle it–"

"Being good at poker doesn't necessarily mean you're good at lying, Steve. Just means you're good at reading people."

"Well that, too," he gives you a cocky look before snapping back to the road. "I'm a man of many talents."

"Pshhh," you smack his arm, as if he's said something particularly funny.

"Ow– Wha–? What is so fucking funny?" He shoots you a look across the car, half shocked, half annoyed.

"Nothing," you're giggling through your words once again, "Nothing, Steve."

"What, you don't think I have any talents?" He's accusatory now, leaning towards you for dramatic effect, his eyes still trained on the road.

"No! No, I didn't say that." A wave of seriousness washes over you, but it's quickly replaced with a sincere lightness, a gentle smile as you look at him. "I think you're plenty talented, Steve."

He scoffs, "Don't take that tone with me."

"What tone?" your voice bounces around the car, "I'm not taking any tone."

"That teasing tone, that 'Oh, yeah. Sure, Steve, whatever you say' tone."

You giggle at his poor impression of you, and he can't help the dopey smile that spreads across his face. He can never stay annoyed with you for too long.

You’ve turned your attention back to his glovebox now. He can tell you're reorganizing the tapes stowed there in a very particular order. He strains his eyes a bit to catch the titles. They’re ordered from left to right – his favorites to his least favorites. They’re definitely easier for him to reach from the driver's seat now.

His chest aches at your actions, how you subconsciously think of him, and a warm smile envelops his face. He thinks about how he'd rearrange every tape you've ever owned if it meant making your life a fraction easier.

Your hands freeze and you spin to face him. A silly smile slips onto your own lips and Steve’s breath hitches. 

"What’re you smiling about?" you question coyly.

His grip on the wheel tightens and his eyes snap back to the road. He needs to contain himself.

"You always patronize me." He's grasping at straws, but he knows it'll distract you from the nervous hand running through his hair and the nibbling of his bottom lip.

“Patronize y–? Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, but I wasn't patronizing you just now. I was being sincere." You go back to sifting through his glovebox, muttering to yourself, "Surprised you can even use that word in a sentence…”

His eyes drift back down to your deft, pretty fingers, that bright, pristine nail polish, and he has to steel himself once again. There could be dents on the wheel by the time he pulls in your driveway.

A heavy sigh leaves him as he reaches up to anxiously adjust his rearview mirror. He knows he looks nervous as hell; he just hopes you're too wrapped up in your own little world to notice.

You don't seem to, now picking at your pretty manicure and tapping your foot to the music gliding through the speakers.

Steve passes your street sign and he can't stop the impending dread that washes over him at the idea of you no longer sitting in his car. He always hates the drive back to his place after he drops you off - your warmth still mingling in the air, but he can't quite get a hold of it. He likes that your perfume lingers when you leave, and the smell of your shampoo, but he just hates how it fades so quickly, until he gets to smell it again next Friday.

Pulling into your driveway, his stomach drops. It really is now or never.

He switches off the ignition, leaving you two in the warm darkness of the summer night, surrounded by that hazy light right after sunset. Only bits and pieces of your silhouette are visible from the dashboard light, but you’re still as stunning as always.

A heated look passes between you two before you're gathering up your things to leave, mindful to take your tape out of the stereo, replacing it with his favorite one for his ride home.

Your hand reaches for the handle as you start your goodbye. 

"Kay, well, I'll see you next week, okay–" 

But he stops you with a hand around your wrist. A silent plead for you to stay.

His heart is in his throat. Your pulse is so strong beneath his fingers. He swears he hears your breath catch.

“Y/N," his voice was low, unsure, like he was still thinking of what exactly to say.

"Yeah?" you give him a worried expression, tuned into his serious tone.

"I…" 

But the words were caught in his throat, lips unable to form the words. 

"I… I forgot." He deflates just a fraction and rubs your wrist once with his thumb before dropping it.

"Geez, Steve. Don't scare me like that. Thought you were gonna say you hate me or something like that." You chuckle as you swing the passenger door open.

Hate you? Hate you?

He’s not even thinking when he pushes open the driver’s side door and jogs after you to your porch. 

You stop fumbling with your front door keys and turn to confront him.

“Forgot something, Harrington–?”

But he cuts off your teasing with his lips pressed to yours. 

His hands run up to your neck, his thumbs nestled under your jaw and the pads of his fingers stroking at the soft spot below your ear. Your lips are so soft, so smooth, he can’t stop the little sigh from leaving his throat. Finally, he feels you relax into him, coming up to wrap your hands around his wrists gently, melting into his touch.

Eyes squeezing shut, he’s trying to memorize the feel of you, the smell of your shampoo and the feeling of his nose brushing your soft cheek, and the way your lips move against his, trying to drag the kiss out for as long as possible. 

Unfortunately, he still needs that stupid thing called oxygen and he’s forced to pull back. His hands stay at your neck, the thumbs rubbing across your jawline, as his blown pupils sweep over your face.

“I’m really, really into you, by the way,” his words come out so breathless as he looks between your swollen lips and your wide eyes.

A shaky breath escapes through your lips. “Good thing I’m into you, too, pretty boy.”

He can’t even get worked up about the nickname before he’s leaning in again, this kiss much slower, much more meaningful. His heart starts to ache from the feel of your fingers rubbing along his knuckles, and he can’t stop from smiling against your lips. Eventually, he has to stop from how sickeningly sweet his chest feels, pulling back to rub the tip of his nose up the bridge of yours with his eyes squeezed shut, his cheeks and his lungs slowly starting to ache in the best way.

He hears a content hum come from the back of your throat, and he can’t help but mimic the same sticky, sentimental sound himself.  

His eyes pop back open to get a good look at you. Your cheeks are flushed and your pupils are blown; you can’t seem to contain your own smile. 

“Uh… sorry, if that was a little… unexpected,” he chuckles at your smarmy grin, his hands leaving your face as he takes a bashful step back and off your porch. “I’ll, uh… see you next Friday!”

Spinning confidently on his heel, hands tucking into his pockets, he makes his way back down your walkway and to his car, leaving you there a bit speechless. He smiles to himself at your stunned silence as he reaches for the door handle. Pausing for a moment, he spins back round, riding his adrenaline high. 

“I’ll call you!” he calls out to you before swinging the door open and hopping in.

You’re just left there, standing on your porch, watching him drive off, one honk of the horn and then he’s down your street. 

A hand comes up to graze over your kiss swollen lips. The spot where Steve Harrington just kissed you. The spot where Steve Harrington’s lips were on yours.