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littlefallenseraph · 1 year

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You’ll Be Born, Born Again

Chapter 4: What’s Eating You?

Weeks after the Hawkins kids crippled Vecna and the rifts to the Upside-Down were opened, Steve has tried to put the events of that night behind him. Particularly in relation to Eddie. But Eddie is back and now he's got sharp teeth, dark secrets, and a penchant for human blood.

...

Steve was having a hard time wrapping his head around everything this morning.

He was happy Eddie was back, sure. Dustin was going to be beside himself. Wayne would probably show more emotion than Steve had ever seen. The kids were gonna want to throw a party to celebrate when they finally found out Eddie was okay.

Maybe he was a little frustrated, too, that Eddie didn’t want to tell everyone he was back for what felt like a silly reason. No one was going to care how he looked, they were just going to be ecstatic that he was alive. So why didn’t he want to tell anyone? Especially when everyone had been so worried. And who knows? Maybe now that he’d been pardoned, Wayne would want Eddie to come to stay with him when he got a new place. Not that Steve felt put out by Eddie being here–he was all alone in this big house anyway, and it felt nice knowing he wasn’t sleeping alone anymore, even if they were in different rooms.

He wouldn’t say he had missed Eddie. It’s not like they were close. They hadn’t talked about anything other than their impending doom and plan to destroy Vecna. Not to mention, their first interaction since Steve graduated involved Eddie slamming him up against the wall of a boat house with a broken bottle to his jugular. So no, it definitely wasn’t that.

There was also that little inkling that Eddie wasn’t telling him everything, which irritated him despite his desire to give him the space he needed. Of course, he didn’t want to push Eddie if he wasn’t ready to discuss it. But it felt like more than just his experience. He had looked awful, and that thing with the water? That was weird, right?

And then there was what he’d said right before Steve left last night. So I heard you playing it. It’s what convinced me to come back. He’d heard Steve playing his music and that’s what had brought him back from the Upside Down. Steve wasn’t quite sure how he’d felt about that.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he walked over to the radio and clicked it on. He scanned through static until he managed to catch a station. A song he’d never heard came through the speaker, filling the kitchen. It was obviously a metal song, with fast-paced drums and an even faster-paced guitar solo sounding through the room. He smiled as the singer came in, maybe that’ll get Eddie out of bed, he loves this stuff , he thought to himself and cranked the dial up a little.

A quiet “Hey,” floated over the music and Steve looked up to see Eddie, still dressed in the clothes he’d offered last night.

“Hey! I didn’t hear you come out. How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks.”

“Good,” Steve regarded Eddie, there was color back in his cheeks and the shadows under his eyes had lightened significantly. His eyes trailed down to the top of the Hawkins High shirt he lent Eddie. “Uh…you’ve got some…blood…” he gestured around his neck.

Sure enough, there was a ring of blood soaked into the collar.

Shit.

Eddie stared down at the obviously blood-stained shirt. “Oh shit, I uh…” think fast, Munson . “I got a bloody nose last night, must have gotten on the shirt.” He quickly pulled it over his head and examined the stain more closely.

Steve was frozen. His eyes flicked back and forth from Eddie’s face to his now bare torso, stunned into silence by the evidence of what had happened. There were pale, raised marks covering the majority of his skin. Steve’s hands came up to his own ribs like he could feel the bats digging into his sides all over again.

Then another thought struck him. “Eddie, you’re…how’d you heal so fast? Dustin said those things tore you to shreds.”

“Oh uh…” Eddie looked from the shirt to his midsection, “Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought?”

Doubt flashed in Steve’s eyes and Eddie shrugged, shifting his attention back to the shirt. He shuffled over to the sink and turned it on. “I’m gonna run some cold water over this, but I could use something to put on it.” He leaned down, opening the cabinets and drawers. “You got any vinegar? Or hydrogen peroxide?”

Steve pushed his questions aside for later and said, “Yeah, I’ve got a new bottle in the bathroom. I’ll go grab it.” And turned to run up the stairs.

He grabbed the peroxide from the medicine cabinet and then stopped in front of the mirror. He pulled up his own shirt to reveal wounds that, while healing better than he expected, were still red and inflamed, with scabs covering the worst of it. They looked nothing like Eddie’s wounds, not even close. And Eddie had been stuck in the Upside Down for two weeks.

He thought about Eddie, bare-chested and scarred in his kitchen. He was more muscular than Steve thought. It was lean muscle, but the strength was definitely there. He felt heat creep up into his neck as his mind lingered on the ink that decorated Eddie’s skin. Pull yourself together, dude has it really been that long since –

Eddie’s voice rang through the house and interrupted Steve’s train of thought. “Hey Harrington, you lost in your own house or somethin’? I’m wasting water down here!”

Steve scooped up the bottle and made his way back downstairs. “Didn’t know you were so concerned about the environment, Munson,” he said, tossing the peroxide to Eddie.

“Well, Stevie,” Eddie replied, turning the water off before ripping off the seal and pouring the acrid-smelling liquid onto the shirt, “I think you’ll find I’m full of surprises.” He let the shirt down in the sink and then spun around to rest his hips on the counter.

“Oh, yeah? Like the fact that you know how to remove blood stains?” Steve asked as he crossed his arms and leaned against the refrigerator.

Eddie chuckled, “Believe me, that’s the least surprising of my skills. You know how many times I got the shit beat outta me in high school?” He smiled, but Steve could see the pain in his eyes.

“Eddie…listen,’ Steve brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck and looked away. “I just wanna say I’m really sorry about that.”

“Hey, it’s not like you were the one beating me up, you don’t have to…”

“No, but I knew and didn’t say anything.” Steve looked back up and into Eddie’s eyes. “I was a real asshole in high school, and I could try to blame it on the people I was hanging out with or my parents or whatever, but really, I was just a dick. So I’m sorry.”

Eddie cleared his throat and nodded, “Thanks. That actually means…a lot.”

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed between them before Steve chimed back in, “So uh…how long does that have to sit before you get the blood out of that shirt?”

Eddie waited the prescribed amount of time before scrubbing away at the shirt to get the stain out and then hanging it to dry on the porch. Then he made some excuse about getting changed for the day and sprinted up the stairs.

Back in the safe quiet of the guest room, Eddie couldn’t keep up the cool facade anymore. Where the hell did that blood come from? He hoped to the powers that be that it wasn’t a person. Please please I don’t think I could handle actually being a murderer. He started to lose control of his breathing, taking breaths faster than he knew he should. Shit. Shit shit shitshitshit.

A knock sounded on the door, “Hey, Eddie. You okay in there, man?” Concern colored Steve’s voice.

Calm down, Munson. Eddie struggled through as deep a breath as he could take, “Yea, yea I’m fine. Still just tired.”

“All right…” Steve didn’t press the issue. “I’m gonna make some breakfast, you want anything?”

“I…yeah sure, all right.” If the water last night had been any indication, Eddie was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to enjoy whatever Steve was making, but he’d say anything to make him go away. Just for a few minutes; so he could get his thoughts together.

He must have gone out last night without knowing. Flashes of what he’d thought was a dream surfaced immediately and he sank to the floor. He tried desperately to dredge up a form, a face to whatever, or whoever, he had fed on, but he came up empty. It couldn’t have been Steve, he would have said something.

Eyes darting around the room, he searched for anything that might give him a clue as to what happened. He couldn’t inspect the shirt–he had just washed it and besides, it was hanging up near the radiator downstairs. He glanced down and practically ripped the pants he’d been given off to look at them. No blood that he could see. No blood, no hair, not even dirt. Shit, where the fuck did I go? And what if it happens again?

“Okay…okay,” he said out loud, “The cops haven’t shown up. There’s no blood on anything else. Maybe…maybe I really did just get a bloody nose. Yea that’s it. And now I know what it feels like, so when it happens again I can be ready and…I don’t know...lock myself in here or something.” As he reasoned, he felt his heartbeat slow and his breath even out.

His panic must have taken longer than he’d thought because soon enough he heard Steve making his way back up the stairs and knocking on the door again. “Hey uh…I made eggs. I hope that’s okay. Do you…are you okay in there?”

Instead of responding, Eddie pulled his jeans and t-shirt on and opened the door, “Just fine, Stevie,” he said with a grin, that he hoped was even a fraction convincing, plastered on his face. He rushed past Steve and down the stairs, “Let’s get some grub!”

As Eddie’s feet hit the ground floor, he heard a, “Hey, Steve! I’m using my key since you don’t feel like opening the door…” and the front door swung open. Suddenly, Eddie was face to face with a very flustered and very confused Robin Buckley who proceeded to promptly drop the entire box of cinnamon rolls she’d been holding.

They stood for a moment, Robin choking out sounds and half-words while gesturing wildly between Steve, who was standing mortified at the top of the stairs, and Eddie.

Eddie whipped his head around, shooting an accusatory glance at Steve, “You didn’t feel like mentioning that Buckley was gonna show up?”

“I didn’t know!” Steve defended. Then, when Eddie narrowed his eyes, added, “What, you thought you were the only one who just shows up at my house unannounced?”

Finally, Robin managed, “One of you two ding dongs wanna tell me what the heck is going on here?!” It wasn’t a question.

“I uh…” Steve started, then brought his hands up in a shrug, “Eddie’s okay! Surprise?”

“Yeah, I can see that!” She wheeled on Eddie. “We went back in to look for you and you were just gone! We mourned you and you were alive this whole time!”

Alive may have been a loose interpretation of what Eddie was now, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud. He held his hands up in surrender, “I…may have…hidden…Sorry about that.”

“So you were there, and you just decided not to come back with us? How long have you been back? How did you get here?” Robin’s questions were getting louder and more frantic as she approached Eddie and threw her arms around his middle. “Dustin is gonna be so pissed at you.”

Eddie chuckled, letting his hands drop to Robin’s shoulders and patting them gingerly. She squeezed before backing up to look at him with glassy eyes.

“Well,” he began, “In my defense, I didn’t know you were looking for me.”

“Not like we were gonna skip around that creepy place screaming for you.” She gave him a light punch to the shoulder.

“Fair enough.”

Steve's light footfalls sounded behind them as he came down the stairs, “Aw, Rob! You brought cinnamon rolls?”

She turned to him and sniffed. “Yea well, we’ll see how good they still are. I kinda threw them when I walked in.”

Steve crouched and popped the box open, “Look fine to me! We might have to scrape some frosting off the lid though.” He picked them up and walked down the hall, “Come on, we can have them with the eggs I made.”

“Yea you’re gonna have to catch me up,” Robin began and then flashed a concerned look to Eddie and whispered, “You let him cook?”

Steve’s voice sounded from the kitchen, “I heard that!”

Three hours later still found the trio sitting in the kitchen around the bar, lunch now haphazardly strewn about the counter. Robin and Steve had caught Eddie up on everything that had happened in the 2 weeks he’d been gone and now it was their turn for questioning.

“Okay so wait, you’re saying you just…woke up? Like…like you’d been taking a power nap?” Robin asked, mouth half-stuffed with a potato chip.

Eddie, who had been artfully pushing food around to make it look like he’d been eating, shrugged, “Yea pretty much. I remember Dustin trying to keep me awake and then nothing. Then I just…woke up.”

Steve leaned over the bar, “And what about your injuries? Dustin thinks you’re dead because of those, and it looks like you got them years ago.”

“Ooh wait, I wanna see!” Robin launched herself at Eddie, pulling up his shirt to examine his scars. “Oh my god, where did they go?”

“That’s what I’m saying! They healed way faster than mine have,” Steve held his hands out, gesturing at Eddie’s torso. “Are you just some secret superhero or something?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Yeah, right. Some superhero I’d be.”

“Eddie,” Robin soothed, “You almost died in there helping us. Most of us you didn’t even know that well.” She put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tight, “That sounds like a superhero to me.”

Stunned, Eddie blinked away tears, “Well hey,” he sniffed and cleared his throat, “Don’t go gettin’ all sappy on me, Buckley.”

A moment passed, and Robin gave Eddie a reassuring smile. Then she patted his shoulder and turned back to her plate. “So we havin’ a party or what?”

Eddie laughed, wiping the tear that had managed to escape with the back of his hand. “I don’t think I’m ready for a banquet thrown in my honor just yet.”

“Fair enough. Though ya know when you are I could probably rent some movies fr–oh shit…” She looked around frantically, “Steve what time is it?”

Steve stepped out of the kitchen for a moment and then returned, “It’s almost 2, why?”

“Shit!” she jumped to her feet and shoved the rest of her lunch into her mouth. “I haf to wohrk tooay aht two!” she managed around the mouthful.

Steve leaned over and grabbed his keys from a bowl on the counter, “Let me drive you. Eds, you gonna be okay here?”

Eddie beamed internally at the effortless tenderness of the nickname and nodded, “Not like I could go anywhere in this hellhole of a town even if I wanted to.”

Robin ran in the direction of the door, stopped short, spun around, and sprinted back to the kitchen, throwing her arms around Eddie one more time and swallowing hard. “Glad you’re not dead, doofus.”

He chuckled, hugging her back, “Me too, Birdie. See ya later,” he said, but she was already headed for the door again. She threw it open with abandon and disappeared into the late spring morning with Steve hot on her trail.

“Be back soon!” Steve called before closing the front door behind him.

Eddie spent the next few minutes sitting at the bar and looking around the kitchen, feeling like something was off. It happened slowly at first, but he felt a shiver up his spine, then a full body tingle like his limbs were falling asleep. He stood up and tried to shake it off, finding something, anything, to do. He gathered the leftovers from lunch and put them in a pyrex. He threw away the trash that had collected. He even managed to find a broom to sweep the floor.

No matter how much he moved, he still felt that horrible tingling. Like something was crawling under his skin and wrapping around all his nerves, invading his lungs, and cutting off his air. Suddenly, his body went rigid and he fell backward onto the tile.

Enjoying your time in Hawkins, Edward? Vecna’s voice echoed in Eddie’s mind, permeating all his faculties and making him break out in a cold sweat.

“What the hell do you want, you necrotic son-of-a-bitch?” Eddie spat breathlessly between clenched teeth.

I merely sought to remind you that you belong to me, Edward. I do not need you at present, however, I can guarantee that I will call upon you soon.

“Fat chance,” he coughed, “you can use me over my dead body.”

I think you are forgetting, Edward, that your body is already dead. I gave it to you for the time being, but when the time comes I will require it back. Oh and one more thing. Those vermin won’t sustain you for very much longer. And with that, the tendrils of control began slowly receding.

Air flooded into Eddie’s lungs and he lay on the tile floor gasping until he heard the front door open again.

“Hey, Eddie, I’m back!” Steve walked through the hall, keys jingling in his hand. They hit the floor the second he arrived in the kitchen to find Eddie curled up, face twisted in agony, clutching at his chest with shaky hands. “Oh my god, Eddie! Are you okay?” He pulled Eddie up to a seated position, one hand rubbing circles into his back and the other braced on his knees as Eddie caught his breath.

“Just–” Eddie choked, “slipped and had the wind knocked out of me. That’s all.”

Steve helped Eddie to his feet, “You look like hell. Do you need to go lie down or something?”

“Ya know, that’s not such a bad plan, could um…” Eddie hesitated. Steve had already done so much. Maybe just do everyone a favor and get the f–

His thought was interrupted by Steve slinging his arm around Eddie’s waist and drawing Eddie’s arm over his shoulder before standing up.

With the abrupt proximity, Eddie’s senses lit up. He felt the pulse in Steve’s fingertips, his heartbeat speeding up against his ribs, the smell of his car, and the late spring air. It made him dizzy and he tried to put space between them but he faltered, pressing his side further into Steve instead.

“Shit, Steve I–”

“Come on,” Steve cleared his throat and Eddie could feel the heat rising to his face as he looked away, “Let’s get you in bed.”

Eddie tried desperately not to notice the way Steve’s muscles moved under his skin or how small he felt as Steve practically carried him up the stairs. Hunger flowed through his veins and he had to swallow to keep saliva from dribbling out between his lips.

He didn’t understand. Fuck what Vecna had said; if he had gone out last night, which he was still trying his best to deny, he shouldn’t be hungry like this. The last time he’d eaten before that was almost two weeks ago and that had only been a few bats. He didn’t know how many animals he definitely hadn’t drained last night, but he shouldn't be hungry the next day.

But all the overthinking in the world couldn’t explain the way he was clinging to Steve as he helped him into bed. Or the spark that passed between them as they made eye contact. They stayed unmoving for a moment and then Steve said, louder than was necessary, “I’ll get you some water!”

He was back in less than a minute with a fresh glass of water which he placed next to Eddie beside the still-full glass from the night before. “Do you uh…can I get you anything else?”

Eddie sat, hands firmly interlocked, and shook his head. “Think I’m good, thanks,” he said, willing his heart rate to slow and his senses to dull.

Steve nodded, rocking back on his heels and backstepping toward the door. “‘Kay, well I’ll just be…”

“Steve…” Eddie stopped. Don’t do this, you idiot. You feel starved when he’s within a yard of you, his mind screamed at him. He pushed past it, “Do you wanna…hang out?”

“Oh…” Steve replied, “Su–uh–sure. What do you want to do?”

“I should probably stay in bed, so…”

Steve’s eyes widened, unsure of what to expect. He was already sure by the way Eddie had recoiled when Steve touched him that Eddie didn’t want him around.

But to his surprise, Eddie landed on, “...got any good books?”

“Uh…maybe? Give me 2 seconds.” Steve went to his room and searched through the bookshelves, but couldn’t find anything he thought Eddie might enjoy. Then, he remembered a gift Dustin had given him for his last birthday. He dug it out of what he thought would be its final resting place in the back of his shelf and strode back to the guest room.

“Tada!” Steve proclaimed, holding it up.

Eddie snickered, “You have a copy of The Hobbit?”

“I mean…yeah. Who doesn’t?” Steve tried to brush off his uncertainty. But when Eddie raised his brow and pursed his lips in doubt, he admitted, “Dustin gave it to me. I…haven’t read it.”

“Yea well, leave it to that kid to force his hobbies onto his friends. Ya know, I only got into comic books because the little twerp wouldn’t shut up about ‘em?”

Steve walked over to the bed and sat down beside Eddie, handing him the book. “No shit? He get you into this, too?”

Eddie gasped, “I beg your pardon, Stevie! If anyone got anyone into Tolkien, it was me.”

“I guess I just don’t get the big deal. I tried to read it once and the dude took like 6 pages describing one guy.”

Eddie gave Steve a knowing smile, “Okay so there’s this ring…”

Eddie had spent entirely too long telling Steve everything he could about The Hobbit, and now Steve was sitting next to him only half paying attention as he read aloud.

“Hey, Eddie can I ask you something?” Steve ventured in a break between chapters.

“Sure.”

Steve took a deep breath. “What’s going on with you? I know you just got back last night and all but…something seems off.”

“I don’t know, man,” Eddie sighed, closing the book, “Sometimes I feel normal and sometimes I feel…I don’t know…sick?” He chose his words carefully. He wanted to be honest with Steve, but he also didn’t want to scare him. Or worse. He had selflessly offered Eddie a place to stay and hadn’t asked for anything in return. Not so much as his fair share of chores. The last thing Eddie wanted was to admit that he had a hankering for sanguine delights and ruin everything.

“Okay,” was all Steve said. He felt his irritation from earlier in the day bubbling to the surface. He looked like gears were grinding together in his mind and he was trying to make sense of them. After another moment, he added, “I trust you,” in a strained voice.

Eddie couldn’t even begin to understand why Steve would trust him. The one instruction Steve had given him the day they went into the Upside Down, don’t be a hero , he didn’t follow. He couldn’t even help Dustin in the end, because he’d gone and gotten himself wasted by some stupid flying rats.

Caught up in his thoughts, Eddie didn’t realize Steve had turned to him. There was a complicated look on his face. His brows were drawn together and there was a fire in his eyes. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d ya do it?”

Eddie shook his head, “I don’t–”

Steve felt his cheeks flush and his heart speed up with anger and he desperately tried to push it aside, “Dustin said you had distracted the bats. You were in the trailer with him. You could have gotten out. But then when he was safe, you cut the rope and ran back out there. Why’d you do that?” It didn’t sound like an accusation, but there was irritation beneath his words.

The pain he’d caused hit Eddie like a freight train. He stared down at the book, fiddling with a bit of the cover that had come loose. “I don’t really kno–”

Steve's words were quiet, but venom flowed through them, “Don’t give me that bullshit, man. You were home free, you’d done your part and you were almost out of there.” He hadn’t realized he had been increasing in volume but by the time he finished the sentence he was yelling. Anger spilled from his lips and he threw it at the man beside him, “Do you have any idea how devastated Dustin is? How devastated we all were when he limped out of that rift screaming your name?”

Eddie sat there, stunned into silence. He could feel a blaze in his gut being stoked with every word Steve slung at him.

Steve continued, “Not to mention your uncle! You may have heard me play that music but you should have seen his face, Eddie. He’s completely wrecked! You’re all he had. And then you woke up and, what, assumed everyone you knew would rather you stay that way?”

“I don’t know, Steve!” Eddie finally shouted, hurling himself out of the bed and away from the tension between them. “I don’t know, okay? I’ve already fucked up enough people’s lives, I figured…I don’t know.” He sank onto the floor. “I was wanted for murder, every fuckin’ person in town wanted me dead, anyway. It just…” tears welled up in his eyes and his voice broke, “seemed like I had the chance to do something heroic. And if I died, well…” he shrugged, “everyone would be better off either way.”

Steve's rage melted away as he watched Eddie sob on the floor of the guest room. “Eddie, I…” He crawled across the bed to sit beside him, “I’m sorry man, I just…everyone is really upset. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…I know you just got back and you need time.” He bit his lip, clenching his fists in his lap, “I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

Eddie sniffed and ran his hands under his eyes, “No, you’re right. I know it’s selfish to let everyone think I’m dead. I just need a little more time. To figure out what’s going on with me or to just…I don’t know. I just need more time.”

Without warning, Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulled him tight against his chest. Neither of them said anything. They didn’t have to. Unspoken support passed between them and held Eddie up even as he cried into Steve’s shirt.

They sat like that for a long time, Eddie sniffling into Steve’s chest, neither of them speaking. When Eddie managed to catch his breath and inhale deeply, an overwhelming sense of Steve surrounded him. He could smell Steve’s shampoo and deodorant. He could feel the steady rise and fall of Steve’s chest. And despite that, he could also feel the way Steve’s hands trembled as they gripped Eddie’s shirt, the warm dampness that was collecting under his arms and chest, the way his heart seemed to be trying to break free from his ribs just like Eddie’s was.

Eddie reluctantly pulled back, “Sorry about that…I don’t usually get all emotional like that.”

Steve shook his head, “Not a problem,” and let his hands drop to his sides.

Silence stretched between them.

“I’m gonna go make some dinner,” Steve stood abruptly, “You want anything?”

You, a hungry voice growled in the back of Eddie’s mind. He squashed it down, replying instead, “No, I think I’d better just head to bed. Feeling a little dizzy.”

“All right. Well…I’ll see you in the morning…” Steve said as he shuffled awkwardly out of the room.

As the door closed behind him, Eddie stood and got back into his bed, lying on his side and curling into a ball. Buckle up, Munson. You are in some deep shit.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #fanfiction #fanfic #My writing

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billyhargrovebabe · 3 years

Text

Thank youuu for the tag!! @lovebillyhargrove 💞💞💞 I love reading everyone’s pieces!!

WIP TAG GAME

Rules: Share the latest line however much you want from your work in progress and then tag as many people as there are words in the line as you want.

I’ve got about a hundred half-written Harringrove pieces bc I have commitment issues apparently lol. I also hate my writing but that’s besides the point…

Anyways… here’s one.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Steve knew it was his fault.

The last time he and Billy had been together, he had said the word — blurted it out when their skin was flushed together.

He's in love with Billy Hargrove. Had told Billy so much himself.

And Billy had just gone rigid beneath him, his bright eyes fading into something reserved, something Steve hadn't understood as he pulled himself up from the blond's chest, stricken with panic.

"I'm not— I didn't..."

Billy never responded, not really. He hadn't said those words back, he had just said shut up, pretty boy, and pulled him back down to his body, pressing his lips to Steve's blazing cheek.

He hadn't seen Billy since then, after he had vomited his feelings at the poor guy, when they weren't even official. He knew he was the reason Billy had just disappeared — scared of commitment, not feeling the same way, blah, blah.

It’s been a month. A whole ass month. No golden curls or baby blues in sight.

And sure, he’d noticed the bruises now and then, dusted across Billy’s ribs or occasionally his face, but he’d never thought anything of them other than Billy being Billy. He liked to fight, whether it be Tommy H or some nameless stranger on the other side of town. Billy came with bruises — that was just Billy.

Except he storms into Hopper’s office, ignoring Flo’s protests about it being too early, that the chief’s having his coffee time, and slams the door shut behind him.

“How has a teenager being missing for over a month and you’ve not done a damned thing about it?!” He spits out, not bothering to sit in the chair opposite Hop, that he gestures to.

Hop drinks his coffee so scalding hot that the steam escapes his mouth, blinks sluggishly, and says nothing but a grumpy, “Huh?”

And Steve wants to shout, to scream, why does nobody give a fuck about Billy?! Instead, he stares down the older man with narrowed eyes.

“Billy. Billy Hargrove. He’s been gone an entire month to the day. He could be dead for all I know! And you— you’ve just sat around drinking coffee and eating donuts!”

Hopper sends him this calculated look as he sets his giant mug down on the wooden desk top. Steve’s expecting something — an excuse, a lie — but he’s met with the smoke of the cigarette Hopper plucks from his breast pocket and lights up instead.

He slams a hand down on the desk, the coffee mug jumping at the impact. “There's a loving family back at home for him, who you told there was nothing you could do to find him! What excuse for a chief are you, Hopper?!"

The older man, calmer than a dove floating in the wind, rises to his feet. He yanks open his top drawer, empties the contents on the desk in front of him. Spreads the small squares across the glossy surface.

Steve furrows his brows, seeing the polaroids Hop was spreading out in front of him. He leans closer.

“Does it look like this kid is from a loving family, Steve?”

The smoke he huffs out is sour in Steve’s nostrils, knocks his stomach queasy and leaves a sour taste in his mouth. It sours more when he picks up the first of many and eyes it carefully.

Billy.

He’s looking away from the camera, baby blues focused on the floor, with a bloody and bruised face. One of his arms is held close to his chest, bent at an ungodly angle and his t-shirt is stained, soaked in several places, notably from his dripping nose.

Steve’s stomach violently lurches.

“The kid’s lucky to be alive if I’m being damn honest.”

He picks up another, sees a trail of marks stomped into Billy’s ribs, skin broken in some places and swollen. Blood is etched across his chest, trailing down his neck.

The next is a close up of his face. His bright blue eyes behind splats of bruising, one eye almost closed off entirely as he stares directly into the camera. And his lips — those soft lips that Steve knew well — were cracked with bloodstained teeth poking from behind.

There was still maybe half a dozen more.

He’s never felt so dumb in his life. Being a kid who’s parents were distant to him entirely and permanently disproving of him, he should have spotted the signs. Billy’s dad was a cold-blooded abuser.

The date printed in the corner of each square makes his breath catch in his lungs, that night. The one where Billy fled in the middle of the night after Steve confessed his love for him. He probably got caught sneaking in by his dad because Steve couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

“Not convinced? Take a look at the damned report." Hopper jerks, flops down this thick file that claps against the wood of the desk and sends the polaroids flying.

Steve reaches for it, flips it open with a harsh swallow past the lump in his throat.

William 'Billy' Hargrove described the assault against him by his father after coming home late at night. He says he was pushed to the floor and landed on his arm. His father then proceeded to inflict more damage to his body — specifically using the force of his boots against Billy's ribs. Billy explained how the injuries to his face came after his father had picked him up from the floor by his collar, and verbally assaulted him. Finally, Billy left their family home and drove off in his car, to which he was met by Chief Jim Hopper less than an hour later.

His heart thunders in his chest. If he had known— he would’ve done something about the bruises earlier. He would have told Hopper or… shit, he would have even given Billy a key to his house to keep him away from his dad.

“That's no loving family, Steve.”

“I didn’t know,” he confesses to the older man. He lets out a shaky breath, wills the tears in his eyes to stay put. “Is he okay?”

Hop grunts. “He’s fine. He’s safe now.”

“Where is he?”

“That I can’t tell you just yet — for his protection and for the sake of the case. I’m working on the case day and night to get the kid’s old man behind bars. And before you start— he doesn’t appreciate being kept away from everyone either. Especially you.” Hop points his burning smoke pointedly at Steve, his cheeks burn instantly.

“Here…” The older man scribbles on one of his notepads, tears the sheet off before handing it to Steve. “One phone call a day, alright? That’s it.”

Steve nods immediately, catches sight of Hopper’s phone sat on the desk.

“Nuh-uh. You can use your own landline, kid. Don’t want you blocking up my line all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Hop.” Steve spins on the spot, heads for the door with a rush in his steps. He needs to get home and to dial the number, needs to apologise and maybe tell Billy he loves him again now that he’s safe.

“And remember— one call a day only!”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Polaroids will forever be one of my favourite prompts for these boys… this one just went a different way to usual? Don’t hate me lol.

Steve’s an oblivious bean, a little dumb too… but that’s okay — he figures it out eventually. Also, I think y’all can kinda guess where Billy is, no?

Tags:

Everyone who made it this far, this is my personal nomination for you to participate!!

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy x steve #billy/steve #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fics #angsty #mentions of abuse #Steve is oblivious #jim hopper

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mrsbarnes107 · 3 years

Text

Secret of the Widow

-part eight-

Summary: Post Endgame time period. The team is healing, trying to navigate this new normal they’ve found themselves in when Bucky and Sam bring home a stray with an attitude and a secret. Will the broken team take her in? Or is it too much to bare?

Warnings: language, *eventual* violence and smut, death, fluff, angst

Pairings: Bucky x OC

Disclaimer: this is posted to Wattpad as well and it WILL HAVE PLOT. I’m a Bucky hoe so there will be smut and romancy stuff but this is a series, so plot plot plot and slow burn.

*Bucky POV*

I've finally gotten away from Wilson and his incessant blabbering, and am now making my way to the training room to find Ali.

Ever since she got here, there's been this ache in the back of my mind. It feels a lot like the first time I saw Steve all those years ago. A dull tug, trying to pull something forward.

She knows me. Knows me well apparently. And I feel deep in this little dark corner of myself, that I know her too. She unsettles me immensely, the thought of her risking herself so wantonly with the Winter Soldier, knowing my past and darkness. It's horrible. But shes also comforting. A type of comfort I haven't felt in a long while.

She's a wild card still. Unpredictable. And yet she peaked my curiosity.

I still can't get her teary blue eyes out of my mind. I'm thankful I heard her sneak past my room the night before. Otherwise I never would have followed her to the lab. Never would have seen her pain and loss so openly. Her cries were heartbreaking, sobs wrenched from deep inside.

I understand what it's like to feel utterly alone and confused. And I wish I could take that feeling from her.

Taking a quick left I stop at the door of the training room, hearing music and the dull thud of knife hitting Kevlar.

God help me I can't get the image of her dancing so carefree in my hoodie out of my head either. Walking into the kitchen to that view, well fuck me back to the 40s. A beautiful woman dancing and singing, a home cooked meal on the stove, and a blade twirling between delicate fingers. She's going to give me whiplash. Or death.

This need to protect and cherish her conflicts with the instinct to be wary and set clear distance and it's worse than the cyclone at Coney Island.

I just know this isn't a good idea.

***

*OC POV*

"You're letting go too soon Doll."

FUCKING BLOODY HELL I'm gonna kill this man.

I very much did NOT let out a tiny squeak for the second time today and launch ANOTHER knife straight at Buckys (admittedly handsome) stupid face.

Okay I did.

With a cocky flourish he catches it and give the blade a nice twirl. "See? Too soon. You're aim would be more accurate if you hold off a second or so before releasing. And the blade would slice through the air better. It's catching too much resistance from the angle."

"You have gotta stop sneaking up on me Sarge. Unlike yourself, I'm too young for heart failure."

Bucky sends me a scowl and scoops up the rest of the knives from the target then makes his way over.

"Sweetheart, I may have some years under my belt, but I'm a fully and exceptionally functioning man." I look down to see the tip of a knife gliding up my stomach and to my throat, pausing to move a lock of hair behind my ear.

Suddenly sweaty I clear my throat and swipe a knife from his metal hand. "I'll take your word for it Buckaroo. Now you wanna show me how exceptionally you can teach?"

At that he steps behind me, chest pressed against my back, hard muscle very much evident under his tight shirt. His hand gliding down my arm softly until he wraps his fingers around mine, now holding the knife together.

His (very beefy) leg presses between my thighs, allowing his foot to hook around mine and reposition my leg.

Hell in a handbasket its fucking hot in here. Jeez. My heart is going wild and I know for a fact Bucky can hear it.

His breath ghosts along my neck as he murmurs low against my ear.

"You're quick and underestimated because of your size. Use that more to your advantage and strike like a little viper. Fast and deadly."

He guides my hand as if drawing the knife from my thigh holster, making my hips shift back against his. As our arms make a slow, practiced arc Buckys metal hand squeezes my hip telling me when to release the knife.

With another light squeeze he steps back and nods for me to continue.

This man will undoubtedly be a distraction in the field if I don't get it together.

With a sigh I drop to a knee only to pounce back up in a spin while drawing the blade, letting it sail through the air in complete silence, slicing through it only to come to a halt with a smack that echoed through the room. In the blink of an eye it went from my fingertips to the mannequins skull a good twenty yards away.

He really didn't need an ego boost but damn if he isn't talented.

"Better. Now let's see how you do hand to hand."

I was suddenly back to the mat with a very heavy soldier pinning my body down, knife pressing into the hollow of my throat.

I let out a soft grunt as piercing blue eyes filled with concealed torment and a hint of playfulness met my own. "Well this brings back memories... for me at least."

Using his confused pause as an advantage, I run my foot along the inner seam of his sweatpants as the other slips from between his to hook around his thigh.

A startled grunt escapes open lips and the knife moves a fraction as his hold loosens. With considerable effort I had the hulking soldier underneath my straddling hips, knife now running up his chest, small cuts appearing along his shirt.

Large hands rest on my thighs, squeezing with every dip of the blade as it runs along the ridges of concealed muscle.

"Dirty move Doll."

With a small shrug his shirt gets cut open completely. "It can get dirtier Sarge."

I shift against his hips and his hands clamp down hard, keeping my legs in place, most definitely leaving Bucky shaped bruises.

"Are we ever gonna have that conversation you promised? Cause I feel like I'm missing some important pieces to our story."

"Huh, I thought this was a training session, not a slumber party." With another squirm against his crotch he lets out a low growl and I hop up, tossing the knife into the floor by his head. "Come and get me Barnes."

With that I took off down the hallway, thundering footsteps quickly catching up with mine. Damn super soldier speed.

As his arm wrapped around my waist I let out a giggle and ducked underneath it, landing a blow to his stomach. Which did little more than make him let out a grunt of air as I dropped to swipe his legs from beneath him.

With a roll Bucky jumped back up and caught my arm, spinning me against the wall.

His thigh pressed between mine as his metal hand locked my arms above my head, our chests heaving together despite the minimal effort of the chase.

The forgotten blade appeared in his other hand, the sharp tip trailing down my arm, dipping along the collarbone. Buckys head tilted as my heart beat went double time, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

With a smooth flick of his wrist a bead of blood trailed down my throat, stopping between the swells of my breast, Buckys eyes following the slow path returning to mine darkened and razor focused.

With a glimpse to the lip I trapped between my teeth he cocks his head with a suspicious glare. “Bringing back more memories Sweetheart?”

“I don’t know, is it Sarge?”

Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t get you-

Buckys hips press firmly into my own, his thick thigh shifting higher, now tight against the needy heat between my legs. A very noticeably large and stiff bulge pressed into my hip. How am I not on fire yet?

A small whimper escapes my lips as Bucky trails his mouth and nose along the length of my neck, beard scratching deliciously against heated skin. My hips bucked, wonderful friction meeting my clothed center, a moan escaping with a sigh as I repeated the action.

Bucky growled low in his throat as his hips snapped against mine, leg tensing against my soaked cunt. “I might not remember our past yet Doll, but I remember this feeling. Your warmth. First time I looked into those big blue eyes I knew you were gonna ruin me. Had no idea who you were, but fuck it all I knew you somehow.”

With a slight tug he released my arms, hands falling to my waist, tracing a path along my body.

I rested my palm against his heart, as the other cupped his cheek. Thumb tracing his red lips I looked into lust blown confused eyes. “Maybe one day you’ll remember our story, until then I’ll remember for the both of us.”

A rough thumb brushes over a hard nipple as his hips start to rock steadily into my own. A small moan escapes as my fingers tangle in Buckys thick hair. His mouth once again finding my neck, this time leaving hot kisses. His tongue traced along my ear, teeth nipping along the skin until he reached the spot on my neck that made me keen.

His lips kissed a smile into my skin as he sucked it into his mouth, leaving his mark on my body. My greedy hand began to make its way to the band of his sweats as he-

“Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barnes, the team needs you in the conference room immediately.” Friday said from above us, damn near giving me a heart attack.

Cockblock. “Fucking hell.” I mutter as my head tilts back to rest against the wall, Buckys hot breath puffing against my chest from where his face is pressed into my shoulder. I run my fingers through his hair for a moment, relishing his warmth after so long being cold.

Bucky pressed a kiss to my collarbone as I clear my throat. “Well, duty calls soldier.”

As he backs away and releases my body, I rock onto my tiptoes and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before swiftly walking to the conference room.

I’m almost certain these shorts are ruined. My sanity is not far off either.

#avengers #avengers fic #black widow #bucky barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #captain america #endgame #marvel #spiderman #sebastian stan #knife kink #winter solder #iron man #tony stark #steve rogers #tfatws #bucky x oc #bucky x reader #wanda maximoff

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carryonmywaywardcaptain · 4 years

Text

Imagine...being a demon and hunting Dean down

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: When Dean says he knows you better than anybody, you’re surprised to find out that you may have more of a history with the Winchesters than you can remember...

Warnings: very slight Season 15 *SPOILERS* for like a paragraph; mentions of “need to kill”; slight angst and open-ish ending, but implied TFW 2.0 win

A/N: Written for @wayward-mikaelson‘s #Daily Imagine Prompt and (unintentionally) for @winchester-reload‘s #Suptober20 day 4 prompt “Brand” (even though I’m working on my actual entry sketches!) Idk where this came from and it took a weird route. Also, there’s an unintentional...nod? paraphrasing maybe? of dialogue from CA: The Winter Soldier, so credit to the MCU writers for permanently snaking their way into my subconscious because my love for Steve and Bucky apparently knows no bounds.

“If it isn’t the notorious Dean Winchester,” you sneered. “As fun as this little game of cat and mouse has been, you Winchesters are really starting to piss me off.”

They’d been tailing you all across the country and you’d had enough. Sure, you were a demon, but it wasn’t like you set out to hurt anyone. As long as everyone else could mind their own business, you liked to think you were pretty easygoing.

…aside from a few bloody slip ups here and there but, hey, who was counting?

At least you weren’t one of those crossroad douches in the soul collecting business. You preferred to spend your time topside, having fun and wreaking a little havoc now and again. It had been going just fine until those plaid-wearing pests became obsessed with you. Eventually you’d decided to hunt them down for a change so you could finally get a little peace.

You hadn’t spotted the tall, sasquatch Hunter yet, but you’d caught the green eyed one by surprise and knocked him to his knees. Glaring down at him with a smirk, you kept a firm hold on the pressure point of his shoulder to make sure he stayed right where you wanted him.

“Did the cat catch your tongue? Because, with all of our showdowns lately, I was expecting a little more of that quick wit you always seem to have stowed away.”

If you were being honest, he was a pretty fine piece of ass and you wouldn’t mind going a round or two with him under different circumstances. Even with the dopey look of intensity on his face, laced with...something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Distress? Of course it would make sense for him to feel that way--you were a demon after all. Was there a hint of longing in the way he was staring at you? Maybe he couldn’t help thinking you were attractive despite what you were.

Who cares? You practically growled at yourself, chasing away something nagging in the back of your mind that told you there was more to his reaction. Pretending you didn’t actually care because you were incapable of such feelings anymore.

“D’you remember me?” he asked, eyes darting back and forth between yours.

Fuck, he was gorgeous. And it was really hard not to get caught up in his eyes. Why did that piss you off so much?

“Of course I do. You two meatheads have been on my ass everywhere across this godforsaken world,” you spat. “I know we’ve had a grand ol’ time and all, but listen up because I’m only going to say this once-- Leave. Me. Alone. If I catch you two on my tail again, I won’t be such a ray of fucking sunshine.”

He studied you for a long moment, seemingly unfazed by your threat.

“What do you remember about becoming a demon?”

You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at his question. “What does that have to do with anything? And why the hell would it matter to you?”

“Because it does. Now I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you don’t remember a whole lot about what happened to you. That there’s some gaps you just can’t seem to fill in.”

“And let me guess--you just happen to have all the answers to that because you know me so well?”

“I do. I know you better than anybody.”

You weren’t sure what game he was trying to play or how he could possibly know how disconcerting it was that you couldn’t recall a damn thing before the last month or two. Your life as a human, your time in hell-- you didn’t have the slightest idea who you were or what had happened to you.

But there was no way you were going to listen to some Winchester--even if your gut told you he was telling the truth.

“I highly doubt that,” you retorted, seething with defiance.

“You know me--”

“No I don’t,” you snarled, unsure why his words were making you feel so unsettled.

“Your name is Y/N L/N. You’ve known me and Sammy your whole life. You--ngh--”

He flinched and groaned in pain when you tightened your grip, digging your thumb into the hollow area just below the crook of his neck and above his collarbone. With your other hand, you withdrew a large blade from the side holster you’d crafted yourself.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’ve had enough of the foreplay.”

Dean threw a sidelong glance at the weapon. His nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw and fixed his olive eyes on you again.

“I know you’ve been bouncing around looking for answers on that blade. Just like I know that underneath that jacket of yours you’ve got a mark on your arm. And I know from the small trail of bodies you’ve been leaving behind that you’re trying to fight that hunger you have to kill anything and everything around you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your voice quivered between your gritted teeth.

“It’s called the Mark of Cain. And that right there is the First Blade.” He nodded toward the weapon without a trace of deceit on his face. “I know the calm you feel when you’ve got the blade in your hand. And that power flowing through you? It scares the hell out of you.”

You grimaced, placing the antique blade against his throat as your chest began to heave from the growing rage pulsing through your veins. What gave him the right to pretend he knew a damn thing about you?

Maybe he was right. Maybe you could admit the power did scare you sometimes. You didn’t exactly give a shit about right and wrong, but the overwhelming urge to kill left you feeling out of control. It was why you were trying to uncover answers about the brand on your arm. Why you were fighting a losing battle with the trembling hand gripping the blade now-- you wanted answers and you needed him to keep talking.

“How do you know all of this?” you demanded.

He swallowed uncomfortably and the blade bobbed against his Adam’s apple. “It was Chuck--uh, God. You’re a Hunter, Y/N. You, me, Sam, Cas, Jack--we’re family. Chuck’s trying to end the world and we were working to stop him. On our last run-in with him...we thought he killed you. But it turns out he sent you to some other universe he’d created. In this world I had the Mark and, when I died, I became a demon. In the other world he tossed you into, we think that’s what happened to you. ‘Bout a month or two ago, somehow you found your way back to this world and we’ve been trying to track you down ever since.”

Furrowing your brow, your eyes fell away from him as glimpses of the events he’d described flashed through your mind. You squeezed your eyes closed, trying to latch onto fragments of the hazy memories emerging from the depths of your subconscious...

Dean screaming your name, face contorted with horror. A small man with graying hair and a wicked grin snapping his fingers. Your hand gripping someone’s forearm, just as his strong hand grasped yours. The deep red energy that flowed from his arm to yours, searing through your veins until the Mark bubbled to the surface of your skin--the scar that was always itching to let the darkest parts of you reign free.

“We can help, Y/N. Me and Sam can fix this.” Dean’s gruff voice was resolute as he briefly glanced away and begged you to consider his offer. “Just come with us and we can cure you.”

His words stirred something in your chest, making you realize he had triggered the faint prick of some long forgotten emotion. A small part of you longed to go with him, but it was miniscule and insignificant when you considered that “fixing this” might mean getting rid of the Mark.

Despite the fear and lack of control it brought you, you were unwilling to give up the power or the blade. It was an addiction you had no intention of overcoming.

“Maybe I don’t want to be cured. The way I see it? There’s nothing to fix. Time to say goodnight, Dean-O.”

You raised the blade but, before you could strike, something cinched around your wrist. When the power coursing through you became dull, you turned in surprise to see that Sam had secured your wrist in one end of the cuffs he held. He reached for the blade with his free hand and swiftly dodged you when you lunged at him after releasing your hold on Dean.

Snarling in rage, you again swung at Sam while he tried to wrestle the blade from your grasp. Dean suddenly collided with your back, circling his arms around you as he pinned your limbs to your sides. You thrashed your head and screamed as you tried to escape, but his cheek was pressed between your shoulder blades, tucked safely away from your efforts of fracturing his nose with the back of your skull.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he grunted, arms tense as he squeezed you tighter. “We’re gonna fix this. You’re okay, sweetheart.”

“Dean, I still...can’t...she’s too strong,” Sam grumbled.

You continued struggling while you gripped the blade with every bit of strength you had. As you fought the boys, you spotted a young man in a tan jacket walking toward you who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He looked vaguely familiar and you surged toward him out of instinct, knowing he was a greater threat than the men holding you.

His hair was side swept, with a few of the sandy colored strands grazing his forehead. His eyebrows were drawn together over soft eyes, brimming with an array of emotions. The boy raised his hand in greeting, smiling in relief as if he’d managed to find a long lost family member.

“Hello, Y/N... We’re going to help you. I promise. Sam and Dean will find a way to fix this.”

“Do it, Jack!”

“Any time now, kid.”

The boys shouted in unison and you paused for a fraction of a second as another series of memories flooded you. Before you could make sense of them, Jack reached out and pressed two fingers to your forehead.

Your knees buckled and your eyes fluttered closed as you slipped into unconsciousness.

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notyetneedcoffee · 5 years

Text

Wrong Number

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: +18 for smutty dirty talk

* * *

“Thank god you answered. I need you to save me.”

There was a long pause. You knew you sounded desperate.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky Barnes stopped dead in the street forcing several people to weave around him. He looked at the phone in his hand, not recognizing your smooth female voice. The number was not familiar either.

“From what?”

“This team building, touchy-feely conference is going to make me vomit, and if I don’t convince Kevin -” you said the name with distain, “that I have a boyfriend, I’m going to be forced to stab him in the neck with my pen. I like this pen. It’s a Monte Blanc. It doesn’t deserve to be bloodied up.”

The man on the other end of the line chuckled. It was deep and rich. And, completely unfamiliar. You whispered. “This isn’t Joey, is it?”

“Nope, sorry. Name’s Bucky.” Came his amused response. “But I can’t refuse a dame in distress. Anything I can do to help? I’d hate to see you have to resort to stabbings.”

You laughed. Not only did this man’s voice feel like audible whiskey, he was willing to play along. “Really? You’re an angel.”

“No one’s ever accused me of that.”

“Even better.” You smirked. The annoying executive from Palm Springs, Kevin, drifted closer to you. He tried to be discrete, but instead came off as a creeper. You switched to a fake conversation. “I told you, Love, I can’t get out of this. I’m stuck here until Friday night and before you ask, no you can’t come.”

“Is Kevin there?” Bucky asked.

“You’re right.” You sighed, as if answering something completely different.

“Is he close enough to over-hear if you held the phone out?”

“Oh, sure.” You purred.

Damn. His low chuckle sounded like pure sin and caused your crossed legs to tighten.

“Okay Doll, here’s what I want you to do. I’m going to explain exactly why ‘your boyfriend’ wants to be there, and in shock, you’re going to hold the phone out a little. Turn the volume up a touch so he catches what I’m saying.”

You giggled. “There’s a reason I adore you.”

He laughed. “Ready?”

“Oh yes” you breathed, a little heady. Kevin looked sideways at you.

“Come on, Doll, you know you want me there.” Bucky’s voice rumbled through the phone. “It hasn’t been that long, but my cock is aching for that tight pussy of yours. You need me to fuck you senseless. I know it ‘cause I’m ready right now to bury myself in that wet cunt. I want to taste you everywhere, goddamn Doll, I can imagine your honey on my tongue. Let me come and set you on fire. I don’t care if the whole conference hears you scream, cause Baby, when you come all over me it’s the most beautiful sight in the world. I know I’ve wrecked you for any other man, haven’t I? The way you come for me again and again. I don’t think we can survive until Friday. If you make me wait, when I get ahold of you, I’m going to fuck you until we both pass out.”

You didn’t need to fake the flush on your cheeks. His words, his voice, soaked your panties.

It did the job. Kevin blanched, then reddened, before making a quick escape to the other side of the lounge.

“Oh, you are so good.” You smiled wickedly. “Your real girlfriend is a lucky lady.”

“Got rid of him, huh?” He was silent a moment. “Ain’t got a girl.”

You cradled the phone closer, turning more fully to the bar and waved for another drink. “Shame. Good sense of humor. Quick on mark. Great voice. Extra bonus points for the dirty talk. You even came to my rescue. I’d say you’re quite the catch.”

You could hear his breath, as if he were holding the phone very close to his face. Finally, he spoke quietly. “That’s nice, but you don’t know me, Doll.”

“Well,” you rolled the amber liquid around in your glass. “Now that I don’t have creepy dude breathing down my neck, we could actually have a conversation.”

Again, silence stretched for a moment. Background voices became clearer and somewhat insistent, though you couldn’t make out all the words. Bucky’s voice suddenly filled you ear with a clipped tone. “Good luck with things. I have to go.”

The phone went dead. Well, damn.

You finished your drink alone, imagining what kind of man could possess that voice, dripping with smoked honey and filthy words. You blamed your warm skin on the alcohol, but the slick between your legs resulted from that interaction.

Bucky. That’s what he said his name was. Before you could lose it, you saved the best wrong number you’d ever dialed to your contacts.

* * *

“What the hell is wrong with you, man?” Sam Wilson nudged Bucky in the shoulder, earning a glare that would terrify most.

“Something is bothering you, Buck.” Steve Rogers punched the up elevator button again. They’d gone to an emergency briefing and his friend seemed distracted the whole time. “I can tell.”

Bucky just shook his head slightly, frowning. Steve’s head dropped to one side in a clear ‘really?’ expression. He sighed. “I was speaking with someone on the phone when you guys came to get me, and I realized I never got her name. That’s all.”

“HER name?!” Sam grinned. “What, pray tell, were you talking to HER about?”

“Can it.”

“C’mon. Who is she?” Sam beamed and they all piled in the elevator. “If you’ve got her number, you know we can get, like, everything on this girl. We do have spies here, you know?”

“Sam.” Steve warned as Bucky looked murderous. “If Buck wants to find her, he’s got the know how to do it. Let him be.” Then just to dig a little, he added. “It’s not like she could have made that much of an impression. He didn’t even get her name.”

When the elevator doors opened on the living quarters floor, Bucky bolted straight to his suite. Fuck those guys.

All evening he kept staring at his phone. Her number was there. He could call her. Of course, she’d probably be sleeping by now. What time did normal people go to bed? Plus, she was at some sort of conference, which probably meant early morning meetings. Yes, he decided, she was probably sleeping.

He watched another hour of the history channel before the lure the phone had it in his hands. He could just text her.

Sorry I ditched the call so fast. Work.

There, he felt a little better. He apologized. Sort of.

The beep of his phone made him jump. He looked at the words in shock.

It’s ok. Glad you texted. Would still love to talk some time when I’m not tucked into bed, unless pillow talk is an option! Call me after my sessions. 1600 tomorrow?

You answered him back..

I don’t think I gave my name. It’s Y/N, but you can still call me Doll if you want.

Buck smiled at his phone and said your name aloud, tasting it on his lips.

I’ll talk to you tomorrow. ‘Night. B

He threw the phone down, smiling to himself.

He got ready for bed. Sam’s words began plaguing him as he brushed his teeth. He could look her up. It’s not like people didn’t put their whole lives on the internet for anyone to see these days. Even though he never uses any of that stuff, and didn’t even know how, Bucky knew just who to ask.

“Friday,” he called out to the building’s AI as he sat back in front of the big screen.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes. How may I assist you?”

“If I provide you with a name and a phone number, can you show me if they have any stuff on the internet?”

“Of course.” Bucky spoke your name and phone number. Almost immediately images began to fill the screen. Friday offered a summary. “Y/N, age 33. Born in San Francisco, California. Is a medical doctor with a degree from Stanford Medical University. She is currently employed with the CDC in the city of New York. Five years ago she filed for divorce from her husband only 5 months after –“

Bucky put both hands in the air. “Stop! This isn’t what I was looking for…”

The AI voiced a disturbingly thorough list of information that could be obtained with just a name and cell phone number. He stopped her again. “Friday, is there’s anything on Social Media, stuff she’s shared openly.”

“Of course, Sergeant Barnes.” The screen opened to an Instagram account and a Facebook page.

Bucky stared at her profile picture. He picked up the controller and began to skim through the posts full of dark humor, beautiful smiles, random things around the city, and for some reason, her toes. There were pictures of her toes in the grass at the park, in the sand at the beach, propped on the rail of a balcony. He found it oddly adorable.

He found a short video of her trying to say a tongue twister. There was that voice. This was definitely her. Bucky watched the video clip again. Finally, he went to bed, her voice in his head.

* * *

Your phone rang at 4:02, just as you stepped out of the elevator on the fourteenth floor. “Hello, stranger.”

“Hi, Y/N.” Bucky sounded tentative. “Is now okay?”

“Sure, I’m just getting back to my room. We’ve got a two-hour break before a boring ass dinner with a keynote speaker.”

“Any trouble with Kevin?” He asked.

You giggled. “None at all. In fact, he turned the brightest shade of red. Poor fellow, got all muddled looking. All day he kept stealing glances my way, so I kept checking my phone and subtly acting hot and bothered.”

“You’re mean.” He laughed.

“He’s a jerk, and if his pompous ass can’t handle the thought of a man being more virile that he is, tough shit.” You giggled again. “Besides, it was fun.”

“See. Mean.” Bucky grew more serious. “Didn’t mean to cut you off like that. Just some guys I, uh, work with came up with an urgent matter.”

“At least they didn’t walk up to hear you say you want to bury your cock in my wet cunt.” You purred, smiling to yourself as you kicked off your shoes and laid back on the hotel bed. A long silence followed. “Bucky?”

“Sorry.” His rich voice sounded an octave or two lower. “I’m, uh, it’s just -” He stumbled for a moment before falling silent again.

You frowned, asking quietly. “Did I go too far?”

“No.” His voice still held that deep sexy tone, only softer. “I’m just not real used to hearing such things from a woman’s lips, and -” he took a deep breath, “your voice is like silk. It just does things to me.”

“Mmm, good to know I’m not the only one affected by our conversations.” You purred.

“Damn, Doll.” Bucky chuckled. “I don’t even know you, but I could listen to you all day. And I hate being on the phone.”

You wanted to crawl through the line and see if he looked and felt as good as he sounded. “Well, I sure am happy to have dialed a wrong number.”

“Me too. Uh, who were trying to reach when I got so lucky?” Bucky asked.

“Joey. He’s friend from my building. Both him and his husband both work at home, so I thought of them first. I don’t know why.”

“You don’t have him in your contacts?”

“No, new number and I just had it jotted on a post it.” You stared out the window at the rain pelting down. Your phone said it was nice at home. “So, you’ve got a New York number. Is that home?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.” You smiled to yourself.

“Where are you now?” Bucky asked. You heard something conspicuously like a bottle of beer – or a soda, but probably as beer – being opened.

“Orlando. It’s a conference on pandemics. Unfortunately, it’s less science and more ‘we all just need to get along’ communication bullshit.” You sighed. “I’m probably being harsh, but there’s better things I could be doing with my time.”

“So, you’re what? A doctor?” Bucky asked, although he already knew the answer.

“Yes. But I do research, not practice. What about you? What do you do when you’re not saving ladies from creepers?”

“That’s pretty much my job.” He deadpanned.

You busted up. Typical.

“I’m - um – you could say I’m in the high-stakes security business.” Bucky answered when your laugh faded away.

“Can’t really talk about it?” You knew a lot of federal agents and private security officers through your work. They didn’t talk about their work either.

“Something like that.” He hesitated.

“Well, then, if you can’t tell me about your work,” You purred, “you’ll just have to tell me what gets your motor running, Bucky.”

“Oh, really?” His chuckle came deep from his chest.

“Yeah, and don’t give me any ‘slow jazz, sunsets and long walks on the beach’ horseshit.”

He laughed, full and light. “But I like jazz.”

* * *

Getting through the conference with a bunch of phone calls and regular text exchanges with Bucky turned out to be much better than the first few days without. His humor was dark and sarcastic. Although you didn’t delve into anything about his work, and you both kept the exchanges fun, you felt like you’d gotten to know him well. How could you feel a closer connection to someone you’d never met, than you did with the last man you dated for two months?

Bucky had sent you a text stating that he would be on a job and unreachable for several days on the night you arrived back in New York. It was sweet the way he wanted to assure you that he would call, and he felt bad he could only text a farewell. You assured him you understood. He called you an amazing dame.

Work the next week barely allowed for time to miss the text exchanges, so much had piled up in your absence. On Wednesday, you were thirty-two pages into the clinical results of a recent test when the phone beside you rang.

“Dr. Y/L/N.” You answered.

“Good morning, Y/N. It’s Rebecca Kim.”

You recognized the name immediately. She was a private researcher and you both served on several committees together. “Oh, hi. What can I do for you?”

“We’ve had a situation,” Dr. Kim used the term loosely. “There’s a potential exposure here. It looks like, damn I’m not certain, but it might be XF3058.”

You froze. It was a designer pathogen, a targeted and weaponized disease. All the information on XF3058 was highly confidential, kept under tight security. “Is it active, or inert?”

“Currently Inert. But the subject shows signs of full infection and he was among the populous. I need help here.”

“I’m on my way.”

It only took twenty minutes to pack up what you needed and catch a cab to Stark Tower. Rebecca waited for you in the lobby. You would need escorting to the top security research levels. You’d only been here twice before. It was like Candy-Land, all the best tech.

The two of you were joined by Doctor Banner. He was a kind man, bright and quick to offer you a smile. “So, you’re here help figure out if we’re all doomed?”

“It’s a targeted pathogen.” You shrugged. “Unless you have the correct genes, we’re not ALL doomed.”

“We just don’t know how many people it could infect.” He nodded.

“My last estimate was .14% of the populace could be potential targets, which is still hundreds of thousands of people on the eastern seaboard alone.” You began reviewing the data.

Nearly seven hours later the computer in front of you beeped, indicating the test simulation finalized. Looking at the report, you jumped up. “Yes!”

“What?” Banner removed his glasses.

“Gotcha, you little bastard.” You pointed at the screen before turning to the other two in the room. “I’ve been running down the genetic signature. This is an old strain. The degradation in the proteins made me think about sixty years. I then pulled the profiles of the known examples of that time frame, and I can say conclusively this is from the Cold War lab of one Kazimir Maksimov. I’ve got the exact genetic sequenced.”

“So, we can engineer an antidote.” Rebecca sighed. “I’ll get the system on it right away.”

“I’m going to take Dr. Y/L/N up to brief the team.” Doctor Banner stood.

You followed him out of the room and up in bright steel elevators. It wasn’t until then than by ‘team’ he meant ‘Avengers’. Nervously, you smoothed your clothes and tried to check your reflection in the metal wall.

“Don’t worry. They’ll just be glad you found the solution.” Bruce smiled.

“Kinda wish I’d at least been wearing something other than jeans the first time I meet Stark, you know.”

He laughed. “Tony’s all bark and no bite. If he gives you shit, give it right back.”

The elevators doors opened and Bruce led you to a glass encased conference room. Tony Stark, a red-head woman, and sandy-haired man stood around an interactive screen at the end of the room. “Hey guys,” They all turned when you entered. “This is Dr. Y/N. She’s the one Becca brought in. We’ve got news. She’s worked it out.”

“Ah, the CDC doc.” Stark propped a hip on table. “So why aren’t you here working for me?”

“You haven’t offered.” You retorted with a smile. “Can I pull up my files from here?”

Turns out Stark and the others, Natasha and Clint, were far more forthcoming with the details. The victim of the pathogen was actually a Hydra agent taken down in the process of eliminating a hold-out base. They weren't sure if he’d been exposed when the building blew, if he’d been accidentally exposed or purposefully infected.

You were explaining that the virus had been in his system for at least four days when he died, and had they’d not killed him, he would have died within 24-hours. He’d been infectious for seventy-two hours.

“Well, it’s a good thing they decided to torch the place. We didn’t find any survivors after that.” Natasha drawled.

“It’s still hard to believe they just kill them all.” A strong voice came down the hall.

“That’s the way those assholes work, you know that. No loose ends.”

Your head snapped around. You knew that voice. Two extraordinarily handsome men came in. One you recognized immediately as Steve Rogers. The other, he had the voice of liquid sex. Nearly the same height as Captain America, strong – damn look at those thighs – and dark haired, your mouth fell open at the sight of him. His blue eyes locked on yours and he stood a little straighter.

No one missed the exchange, looking back and forth between the two of you.

“Bucky?” You breathed.

A sly smile grew on his face, and you felt yourself flush. “Hey, Doll.”

“Okay, how do you know the good Doctor and I don’t?” Stark scoffed.

“Not your business.” Bucky leveled a solemn stare at Tony.

“Yeah, well.” Bruce interjected. “Doctor Y/N has uncovered the source of the pathogen and we’re working on antidote if it becomes necessary.”

“I thought you said that could take days.” Steve asked Banner.

“She’s good.” He shrugged.

“And I still don’t know why she’d not working for me!” Tony threw his hands in the air.

“I’ve told you before. You’ve yet to make an offer." You threw back at Stark, but your eyes still had not left Bucky. Your brain spun. Thankfully common decency kept your feet planted in place, because every cell in your body wanted to touch him, to smell and taste his skin.

“I may have to change that.” He grumbled.

“You know where my office is.” You finally looked back at the group. “It’s been a long day. I think you’ve got what you need for now. Is there any objection if I call it night?”

“I may have to contact you about the final reports, but that can wait.” Bruce nodded.

“I may have to contact you about what sort of furniture you want in your office.” Tony smirked. Then he waved his hand towards the door. “Go on, get going. We’ll be in touch.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Bucky stated immediately.

You both walked to the elevator side by side, not speaking. You stopped at the doors, facing each other. He hit the button, giving you a shy – oh my god – smile.

“So.” You sighed, “an Avenger, huh?”

“Of sorts. Steve brought me in a while back.”

“Ah,” You took his metal hand in yours. All the pieces click in place in your mind. “I seem to remember seeing a briefing about that somewhere.”

You could see the concern in his eyes. You didn’t know much about him. You did know he was enhanced, by Hydra, with a derivative of the same serum used on the Captain. Other than the friendship between the two men, you didn’t know much else from his past.

“Does that bother you?” He asked finally.

You smiled up at him. “Not in the least.”

The elevator doors opened and you stepped inside. Even though the car was empty, you remained close enough to feel the heat rise off of him. “Smart, funny, and gorgeous.” Bucky moved a strand of your hair off your shoulder. “And you smell incredible.”

You placed your hands on his strong chest. He was magnetic, a forceful draw. His hand cupped your cheek, a simple gesture that felt so intimate in this small space. His other hand slapped the stop button, halting your progress. Everything stood still.

“Hey.” He breathed, face close to yours.

“Hey, back.” You whispered.

Bucky’s mouth touched yours, soft full lips brushing lightly. When you smiled into the kiss, his tongue reached for permission but was met with your own. Flaring from sweet to fevered, he pulled you tight against him. Wet, hot, your mouths explored one another.

He turned, pinning you against the wall, hands roaming over your body. You clung to him, fingers in his hair and relishing in the hard muscles pressed against you. When his mouth trailed down to your neck, you breathed out a heavy “Holy shit, it’s good to meet you.”

He laughed against your skin. “Pleasures all mine.”

You took his face in your hands and kissed him again before sighing. “This elevator is probably monitored, huh?”

“Definitely.” He stepped back a bit, allowing you to stand fully on your own feet. “And I’ve been dying to ask you out. Dinner?”

“How about pizza?” You gave him a devilish grin. “We could order in.”

“Anything you want, Doll. Pizza in sounds perfect.”

Bucky released the elevator but hit a different floor than the lobby. The doors quickly opened to an obvious residential floor. You laughed, “Damn, that’s convenient.”

He took your hand and led you down the hall. “I aim to please.”

“I have no doubt.”

You glanced sideways at his sparkling blue eyes, utterly taken by the intensity as he stared at you. The smell of him drew you closer. He smiled as you leaned into him.

Damn he was glad he answered that unknown number.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader #fanfic #mcu #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic

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ticklikeabomb · 5 years

Text

One-shot : Bad Guy

Pairing : Steve Rogers (NOMAD) x Fem Plus Size Reader

Warnings : Language ; DOM Steve ; SMUT -> 18+ !!!

Word Count : 2.2k

A/N : One-shot inspired by the song “Bad Guy” by Billie Eilish and cause I’m a slut for bearded Steve <3

Steve has been on the run for a while now. It felt bittersweet to abandon The Avengers behind, his way of lifestyle but he knew deep down he made the right choice. Sam and then Natasha followed his footsteps, having his back meaning he wasn't completely alone in the world. Even though, something was missing ; not only Bucky or Peggy but something more meaningful, a sense of danger he always thought was for the good cause. Now he wanted to face danger for thrive, not because it was the a certain way to accomplish good. Just feeling like he could do something bad, something out of his comfort zone. Refusing to sign the Sokovia Accords was the first drop of blood. Once he tasted "blood" he wanted more. The second step was to let his hair and beard grow ; an act of rebellion from the sweetheart looking face and the perfect persona people put on him since, well ever. He was feeling good, probably more than ever and was about to show it.

A new undercover mission was on the menu for the three former Avengers : infiltrate a famous and private nightclub, gather intel related to a growing terrorist agency and identify the hierarchy of the organization. The potential default? It wasn't just any club. Let's just say that it was the sort of club where latex, whips and orgies were the main course. The Chaud Club. Before, it would have been an obstacle to the famous Captain's moral but today, he was begging for it. The thrive at its essence. The sort of thrive that gets any teenager excited after a short eggplant & peach text.

[Verse 1] White shirt now red, my bloody nose Sleepin', you're on your tippy toes Creepin' around like no one knows Think you're so criminal Bruises on both my knees for you Don't say thank you or please I do what I want when I'm wanting to My soul? So cynical

[Chorus] So you're a tough guy Like it really rough guy Just can't get enough guy Chest always so puffed guy I'm that bad type Make your mama sad type Make your girlfriend mad tight Might seduce your dad type I'm the bad guy Duh

I'm the bad guy

Black pants, dark boots and a leather jacket were the only clothes Steve supported before making his way among the club's regulars. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Natasha in a vivid red leather dress at the bar, while Sam sat at the VIP section feeling like Poseidon surrounded by an ocean of mermaids who fought for his attention. The Moses arriving, the crowd dissipated slightly at every firm step of Steve's; admirative of his chiseled chest and the pure alpha vibe emanating from him or of pure fear, thrill? No one knew, maybe it was a little of both. Either way he was loving the feeling he provoked. A drink in hand, he scrutinized the crowd. His eyes locking with a potential member of the agency. He was about to close the distance when Natasha cut him through the comms exclaiming the man in question wasn't part of the terrorist organization.

Steve stood now in the middle of the room. Trying to blend in, he grabbed the first arm closest to him and let the woman in front of him wander her fingers on his chest, while grinding on his tight. He played the game. Lifting his head up, his gaze fixed on a gorgeous plus size woman, standing at the corner of the room. It occurred to him that she was out of place, not the same expression painted on her face as the others in the room. He noticed her eyes carefully travel the room, catching every single detail around her. Steve whispered to the comms to his partners, "We may have a third player in the game", before indicating them your position. At the end of his phrase he saw the woman already looking at him with a piercing gaze, a smirk at the corner of her lips.

You looked over the crowd attentively until your eyes landed on your target. His face was currently being eaten out by someone, their tongues intervened, battling for dominance. Who would have thought that one of the most Humanitarian organization member, militating for world peace would consecrate his free time to wild nights at the Chaud Club. Never judge a book by its cover, right. And there he was, a total sub in front of the latex wearing dominatrix, ready to make him comply. Not far from him, the VIP section. Who said Sam Wilson, said Steve Rogers and probably Natasha Romanoff. You quickly found her next to the bar, her disguise working for everyone else except you. You would recognize her anywhere and anyhow. Another swift on your right and there he was, Steve Grant Rogers, a finger pressed on the side of his ear. Before he had the chance to lift his head, you saw Wilson and Romanoff looking your way and knew they had an eye on your persona. "This should be fun", you thought.

Even with the club's neons, you still could distinguish the blue of his eyes once he looked at you. A staring contest took place between you. Neither one of you flinching, even though, the woman grinding on his leg was trying (in vain) to get his attention. A deep and dark chuckle escaped from you, the whole thing entertaining. You marched towards him and jerked the woman from him before capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. Shocked she didn't respond right away. You didn't care, the kiss wasn't for her anyway but for him. To get a reaction of him. You disengaged from her and looked at him ; his eyes dark screaming 'envy' and his teeth clenching on his inferior lip. Closing the gap, you grabbed the back of his neck in a strong grip and caught his inferior lip between your teeth, making him groan. Releasing his lip and neck, you took a step back and winked at him before taking the direction of the bathroom, knowing you had him under your fingers.

I like it when you take control Even if you know that you don't Own me, I'll let you play the role I'll be your animal My mommy likes to sing along with me But she won't sing this song If she reads all the lyrics She'll pity the men I know

It didn't took long before he joined you in the bathroom ; locking the door behind his entry. You both stood there, contemplating each other. Your eyes wandering from the edge of his new hairstyle to the belt of his pants, while his eyes followed the curves of your thick and plum figure. "Are you gonna stand there the rest of the night?", you spoke up. His jaw clenched, the inner battle evident : Fight his instincts and be careful or let go. You chose for him, "You have 3 seconds to make a move." He stepped your way, his body an inch from you and whispered in a raspy voice, "I don't think you have a saying here." You chuckled but it was shut by his plump lips fiercely pressed on yours, his teeth biting yours in a carnal way. Even if you didn't want it, a moan escaped from you making him smile but vanished as fast as it came when you pushed him against the door. He hold you tightly against him, his grip shaping the form of the future bruise on your waist. His lips attacked your neck while you fumbled on his belt but he stopped you. "Nah-han. Strip", he breathed out. Raising an eyebrow you wondered if he really wanted to go that road. "I said STRIP", he exclaimed with a predatory voice. "There we go", you smiled brightly. "Finally you've come to your senses." His hand went to your throat and his teeth on your earlobe, biting it. "If I'll have to repeat again, you will regret it", he mumbled. "I guess I'll do", you replied more than happy to push his buttons.

He groaned and ripped your blouse in pieces before his hand went to your skirt. "No", you stopped him. "You don't want me to go home naked do you?", you smirked. Stepping back, your hands went to your skirt's zipping and turned around, providing him with the perfect view on your round ass. Sensually discarding your skirt, you faced him again and saw the tent in his trousers. You motioned him to come to you and he was in front of you in a second. His beard tickling your neck and collarbone heavenly while his teeth marked you. "You have no idea what you're doing to me", he told you through greeted teeth. You slid down on your knees and waited his command. "Show me", you said sensually. He discarded his pants and boxers down, his thick and veiny shaft in front of your lips. You couldn't help yourself and kissed the base slowly making him moan. Before he could come back to his senses, you wrapped your lips around the present that was his dick and sucked him. "Fuck", he groaned. His hand took hold of your head, stopping your movements to jerk his hips forward, sinfully fucking your face. You were at his mercy and you both loved it.

You pushed him further alternating between licks, kisses and sucking before he pulled you up strongly on your feet and planting his lips on yours in a heated kiss, tasting his pre-cum on your tongue. He lifted you up and dropped you on the counter, his mouth travelling down your body. "Let's see how sweet you really are." He latched on your soaking pussy and dove right in, sucking your clit in his mouth and filing you with two fingers. His moan vibrating down your private part was making you wetter and desperate for more. Your hands reached his hair and managed to pull him deeper but he stopped before you were reaching your climax. Grabbing your hands in his he said, "You don't get to touch me. Is it clear? And you only get to cum when you deserve" With your big mouth you counterattacked, "What are you gonna d-, Ahhhh", your voice cracked once he filled you up without warning. He started slowly but quickened his pace like an enraged animal. Moaning out loud, he pounded in you roughly like it was the last thing to do for survival. "Fuck me harder, please", you moaned. You felt him twitch inside you but knew he wouldn't come before you did. Reaching down, he flicked your bundle of nerves rapidly making you see stars, your orgasm exploding like TNT. He was still thrusting in you at a fast pace and your hands reached his cheeks. "Let go Steve, you can let go", you encouraged him. His eyes widened at the mention of his name before letting go and cumming at full force, renovating your walls with his white juice. Heavily panting, you dropped a chaste kiss on his lips, the evident contraste of that sweet gesture compared to the roughness of the sex you just had.

You quickly put your clothes back on, feeling his presence doing the same behind you. "How do you know me?", he asked. You chuckled and walked at him, stopping inches from his lips. "You really think a beard and longer hair are gonna fool people? Either way I like it", you said before unlocking the door. "Will I see you again?", he asked almost desperately. You smirked and got out of the bathroom, joining the main room. He followed you and stopped in his tracks when you neared the exit. A scream was heard among the crowd and he his gaze landed on the fuss behind him. A corpse on the ground, the man militating for world peace. "What happened?", asked Steve through the comms. "The third player? The woman? She killed him", exclaimed Sam. "That's impossible she was with m-", Steve couldn't finish his sentence because he saw the same looking woman merge with you. 'Enhanced', he thought. He saw you smirk and wink at him before vanishing the place.

He didn't know how to feel. The undercover mission was a total failure and a man got killed but on the other hand, Steve never felt more alive. He didn't know what the future hold for him but there was one thing he knew : his path would cross yours again.

[Bridge] I like when you get mad I guess I'm pretty glad that you're alone You said she's scared of me? I mean, I don't see what she sees But maybe it's 'cause I'm wearing your cologne

[Outro] I'm a bad guy I'm a bad guy Bad guy, bad guy I'm a bad

* gifs not mine, credit to owners*

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buckysrighthanddoll · 5 years

Text

Silence (Peter Parker)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Angst (bc I’m me and I’m angsty), fluff, light mentions of anxiety

Distractions were your specialty. But not for other people. You just knew how to distract yourself rather easily. It was a necessity when you were an Avenger who was in love with another Avenger who was frequently out on missions.

You and Peter Parker had been a thing for a little less than a year. You had been a full-time secretary at Stark Tower, a job provided by Tony, who knew that you had the potential to serve the team. You were fifteen at the time, and you had done more odd-end jobs than anything else. You cleaned the compound and various areas of Stark Tower, you faxed papers, you scheduled appointments and meetings for some of the lower management in the building, and you were the daughter of the one and only Tony Stark.

When you met Peter, you had just barely begun training. Tony had designed an amazing suit for you that was similar to his, only much more flexible since that was how you loved to fight. You were training with Natasha when your dad came into the room with the new recruit.

You ignored the door opening and closing as Natasha threw yet another punch at you. You fell to the ground, bringing your legs to your chest to get momentum to spring yourself back up. You front-flipped toward her, latching your legs around her waist as she brought her hands to your chest, attempting to shove you off of her. She successfully did, and you caught your weight on your hands as you landed a round-off. She sprinted toward you, but you side-stepped and squatted down, kicking out your left leg as she ran past you, which threw off her feet. You brought yourself back up and grabbed her hands, forcing them behind her back and tossing her down to the ground. You straddled her before she had the chance to make another move and you placed your hands on either side of her neck, making a slight jerking motion as if you were going to break her neck.

“Nice job, kid,” She smirked at you. You smiled as you got off of her and helped her up, both of you catching your breaths as you looked at your father and the new recruit.

Peter stood in shock just behind your father, who stood confidently. Peter couldn’t believe that anybody could take down the Black Widow. Truthfully, this was the first time you had ever been able to take her down using her own strategies. Your fighting style was very similar to her’s, which worked to your advantage because both of you were very small and flexible. It worked well when you fought Steve, but fighting Natasha was a whole other story.

“(Y/N), Natasha, this is Peter Parker, A.K.A. Spider-Man. He’ll be staying and training here. Peter, this is Natasha Romanov,” He said, gesturing to her. “And this is my daughter, (Y/N). She also just started training.”

“And she’s doing rather well,” Natasha added as she grabbed your water bottles. She tossed yours to you, which you caught effortlessly.

You laughed as you opened the bottle. “I’m making progress,” You corrected.

You couldn’t help but look at Peter. He was so incredibly handsome that you had to take a moment to appreciate it. He was in a hoodie and some jeans, and he looked so simple, but you couldn’t help but feel like you needed to know everything about him. You knew from that moment on that Peter Parker would be your death sentence.

“You look distracted,” Bucky said as he walked into the kitchen area. You had just finished brewing sweeping the floor and had pulled out the mop bucket, but you were moving at a much slower pace than you normally did.

“Always am, Buck,” You said as you turned on the hot water.

“No, you look anxious. Believe me, I know the look.”

You were anxious. Peter had been gone on a mission for three weeks with your dad, Steve, Natasha, and Clint, but the mission was only supposed to last one week. And nobody had sent any messages to you, which annoyed you to no end.

“Yeah, but it’ll be fine,” You shrugged. Bucky nodded at you as he clapped a hand on your shoulder. Bucky had always been the most comforting person to be around for you. He often told you that you reminded him of his younger sister.

“Let me know if you need anything, kiddo,” He told you. You nodded and smiled weakly up at him as he walked away with an apple, leaving you alone once again.

You had cleaned the entire compound three times, but they still didn’t return. You had worked out for hours on end until your body couldn’t take it anymore. You had fought with Bucky multiple times, which was the most distracted you had been the entire time. You tried reading. You tried writing. Nothing seemed to be taking your mind off of the mission long enough.

As you sat in your room, the silence took over everything. You could hear your own heartbeat. You were left with nothing but your anxious thoughts. What if they weren’t okay? What if Peter was hurt? What if your dad was hurt? What if they were in severe danger right now? So many ‘what-if’ questions ran through your head, and you could do absolutely nothing to stop them.

Now you understood why people feared the silence.

You passed countless hours like this--trying to distract yourself, failing, lying restless for hours in your bed, finally catching a couple of hours of sleep, waking up, and repeating the whole thing.

Today marked one month of the mission as you stepped out of the shower. You dried your hair and brushed your teeth, getting clothes on as you prepared to step into the gym again.

“Notification for (Y/N) Stark,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoed. “The quinjet is five minutes away from the landing zone. No casualties reported, but there are minor injuries.”

“Thank you,” You called. Your smile was gigantic as you threw your bedroom door open, nearly crashing into Bucky as you did. “You coming, too?”

“My best friend is on there; hell yeah I am!” He said, smiling. You absolutely adored how excited Bucky always was to see Steve.

You both got to the landing area as the quinjet landed. The door opened and the team stepped off, looking bruised and bloody. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it could’ve been. You still remember the time your dad had gotten severely beaten and lost almost too much blood. It scared the living hell out of you.

You gave your dad a giant hug, making him wince. “Your boy is on his way out,” He chuckled, kissing your cheek and walking into the complex. You laughed it off until Peter stepped off of the quinjet. You ran up to him and practically jumped into his arms, making him laugh.

“I missed you, (Y/N),” He muttered into your hair.

“You and me both,” You laughed. You pulled back to take a look at him, seeing various cuts and some bruises peeking out from under his suit. “Let’s get inside and I’ll clean you up a bit, okay?” You asked. He nodded and you walked together into the compound, going to the medical center first.

Peter sat on top of one of the tables as you pulled out simple first aid supplies. You didn’t know too much about medicine, but you were planning on learning all that you could so you could do first aid on missions.

Each cut was cleaned carefully, neither of you speaks a single word until you took care of each and every cut and bruise.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He asked you. You blushed a light pink, smiling to yourself slightly. You couldn’t deny that you had felt something for him and that you suspected that he returned those same feelings.

“I’ve been told,” You retort, smiling at him.

“Can we go on a date sometime?” He asked. Your breath hitched in your throat as you cast a wide-eyed look at him. He was never this straight-forward. “I-I mean--please don’t--it’s only if-if you want,” He stumbled.

You laughed as you placed the cotton balls in the trash can. “I would love to,” You said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Peter Parker would be the silent death of you.

#peter parker #peter #parker #one shot #one #shot #fan fiction #fan #fiction #fan fic #fic #daugher reader #daugher! reader #stark #silence #angst #fluff

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celoica · 6 years

Text

the wild hunt

characters → billy hargrove/steve harrington

rating → explicit

tags → werewolves, witchcraft, drug use, biting, mates, knotting, alternative universe - modern setting

notes → inspired by @hoppnhorn‘s hide ‘n seek, because i’m garbage for werewolves and knotting--and then i was like, why does billy get all the fun? so steve ended up being a witch.

you’re a bloody feral wolf-face I like you

-- Alice Notley, from “Get Rid of All Controls,” Disobedience

If Nancy knew what he was doing with her krachai dum, she would probably kill him—and then bring him back from the dead to take his balls.

He licked his lips, dropping his backpack to the ground. The night air was warm around him, a heat that lingered after the sun had set. Steve crouched, tugging the laces of his shoes free and stripping off his socks, setting them beside his backpack.

Anticipation trilled through his veins, sliding across his bones and settling low in his belly. Despite it, a lump formed in his throat, a nervousness he hadn’t been able to shake even when he’d been in the shower, three fingers deep in himself and biting his wrist to stifle moans.

It had been his idea. Everything had been his idea. From the day Billy Hargrove had rolled up in his vintage car to the day Steve had walked into school with a fresh bite on his neck, proudly scabbed over and on display for his entire class to see, it had been all Steve’s idea.

Billy did something witchy to his blood, thickening it under his skin and making it hard for him to think about anything else. At first, he’d thought maybe an incubus, something demonic and lust-driven and so out of place in tiny Hawkins, Indiana, until Laurie had leaned over and whispered about the new kid being a werewolf.

The last time they’d had one of those in Roane County had been before Steve had been born.

Even without the full moon to influence him, Billy was everything Steve had imagined a werewolf to be; aggressive and larger than life, in tune with the people who watched him with curious eyes, charming until it made Steve’s stomach clench in jealousy when his attention was on anyone but him.

Witchy. To him. The witch.

The grass was thick beneath his bare feet, carefully chosen for the pebble-free clearing. He’d spent his entire Saturday scoping it out, trekking through Hawkins’ forest trails until he found it. On his way into the clearing, he’d let his bare palms and shoulders scrape against rough bark, leaving a trail of Steve-scented breadcrumbs to follow.

Steve unsnapped the watch at his wrist, setting it on top of his backpack. His belt followed. He stripped off his T-shirt and tucked it into the front pocket. He stood, rolling his shoulders and breathing in the scent of night.

It had taken all of half a blowjob while stoned to convince Billy it was a good idea. If he could handle that wouldn’t ripping Steve to shreds, he could handle liquid lust.

Steve’s heart beat heavily in his ears and he shifted on his heels, shoulders rolling back again. He’d dreamed about this for months, since he’d gotten Billy’s mouth on his neck the first time in the back of the Camaro, teeth worrying the skin while Steve jacked him off. Canines too sharp to be human, jaw too strong to be even close to it, Billy had driven his teeth into his neck and Steve had been lost, sucked into a vacuum of him and Billy and everything Billy was.

For the most part, Billy kept his claws to himself, shying away from Steve’s touch when he slipped his fingers low around his cock to touch his knot, pulling out before he could come to stop them from tying together. It hadn’t bothered him until it did, until Billy had shrugged and changed the subject and punched a hole in the wall when Steve hadn’t let it go.

He’s turned, you know. You shouldn’t trust him, Nancy had said when she’d seen the hole in Steve’s bedroom wall. It had clicked then, and Steve’s brain had kicked into overdrive.

Teeth were fine because humans had teeth. Claws and knots and everything in between were different. Too foreign on Billy to be comfortable with, even when they were both naked and Steve was willing to do the horizontal tango to bad 80s playlists with him.

The rustle of leaves and the crack of a twig sounded behind Steve. He sucked in a sharp breath and looked over his shoulders, body frozen on the spot.

Everything about Billy was wild—from the look in his eyes, too golden and pupils shaped wrong, to the curl of his hair and the slant of his cheekbones and the point of his ears, too sharp to be human. Lips parted to make room for his canines, too big to fit inside, he breathed deeply, eyes glued to Steve’s.

He was naked, stripped down to nothing but bare skin. His cock was already hard, thick and flushed red at the tip, hanging heavily between his sun-kissed thighs.

Steve glanced down at his hands and sucked in a breath. The distance between them did nothing to make the claws extending from his fingertips look anything but deadly.

Billy watched him closely, eyes narrowed. He tipped his head back and sniffed the air, scenting. Steve’s heart slammed into his throat, heavy there. He swallowed around it while the want pooled low in his spine and his cock thickened.

He took off, bare toes digging into soft grass. Billy growled behind him, loud and low and as threatening as always. A hot rush of lust rolled through Steve, spiking his blood with adrenaline and desire, until he was halfway across the clearing and his chest burned.

He hit the ground hard, chest slamming into the grass, legs pinned beneath Billy’s weight. He yelped, startled, and squirmed beneath him, even as Billy cupped the back of his neck, claws dipping into the tender skin of his nape and breaking through. He shoved his arms beneath him and shoved up; Billy shoved down, hips jerking against Steve’s ass, cock thick and shoving against him.

Steve bit his lip hard enough to bleed, stifling a moan. Billy leaned down, breath hot on the side of his neck—and then teeth were jammed inside his skin, pointed and sharp, breathing through as easily as his nails, somewhere east of the months-old mating mark.

He moaned and whimpered, a desperate, twisted plea he didn’t quite understand. Grabbing fistfuls of grass, he yanked, eyes wide as he stared into the open forest, lips parted around wounded noises that broke free of his throat. His cock ached, trapped between his jeans and pressed into the ground.

Billy bit harder, teeth working into the muscle, until Steve whined out, “Billy, please.”

Growling, deep enough to vibrate along Steve’s skin, Billy raked his hands down Steve’s sides. He shouted, skin stinging red and bright, pinpricks of Billy’s touch left in his wake. He jammed his knees down into the ground and rocked up, shoving his ass against Billy’s cock, grinding back as he yanked on the grass.

Billy pulled his head back, teeth leaving Steve’s neck. He growled again, different now, thicker and laced with need and want deeper than before. It tasted like instinct on Steve’s tongue.

He shredded Steve’s jeans easily, fabric unraveling in ribbons, hands on his hips. The skin of his neck and sides burning, Steve arched, tilting his ass up until his spine ached.

It was a gritty slide, the lube barely enough, and Billy gave no hesitation as he ground in to the thick root of his cock, pelvis flush to Steve’s ass. Toes curling, fingers twisting helplessly in the grass as Billy reared back—no adjustment, no time to enjoy the first sticky stretch—and thrust in, hard and sharp, Steve cried out sharply as he was shoved forward in the grass.

He was relentless and animal, every inch of his strength narrowed down to where his cock shoved deep into Steve, where his hips met the Steve’s thighs and ass, dark blond hair rasping against his skin. Steve jerked with each thrust, strangled noises fucked out of his throat as if Billy’s cock were there. He might be—he felt bigger, thicker, an edge of too big stretching Steve out, forcing him to take it with each solid shove of his hips.

Steve took it, grateful and loudly, gasping out his pleasure into the dark of night, pulling up weeds by the roots. His cock pressed uncomfortably against the ground, but hot-white need sparked up behind his eyes when Billy shifted the angle, wrenching Steve onto his knees with easy strength, cock grinding into his prostate with each thrust.

Pressing his chest flat to the ground, ass hiking higher in the air, Steve closed his eyes, lips parted and spilling moans and gasps.

Billy growled again, a deep vocalization of satisfaction, fingers tightening on Steve’s skin, digging in hard enough to break through the heat roiling through his blood. It did nothing but make his cock ache, an insistent lust that bit at his insides.

It hit him like always—suddenly and powerful, shaking through his core until he shook with it, a white noise of neurochemicals setting fire to his nerves. His cock twitched through it, dripping come onto his thighs and belly and ground. He whined out Billy’s name, thick and as pleading as before, pulling at another handful of grass.

Too much, like it always was after he came, but Billy didn’t stop. A noise rattled in his chest as he fucked in harder, shoving Steve’s knees forward through the grass, burning the skin. He moaned brokenly, eyes screwed shut, mouth agape.

He felt Billy’s cock thicken, catching on the rim of his hole, until Billy was forcing his way inside on each thrust, a sharper, harder shove that broke another cry from Steve’s lungs. He ground in, pulling on Steve’s hips to anchor him still, pressed in so deep Steve could feel him in his throat.

The stretch was almost unbearable. If he was bigger before, he was huge now. Billy’s knot caught, thick and hard and unyielding inside of him; he shifted his hips and choked on a noise, trying to get away. Billy yanked him back, forcing himself in a little deeper as he leaned over the length of Steve’s back, a warning growl vibrating along Steve’s spine.

He breathed deeply through his mouth, stuttering out broken breaths and noises while Billy nuzzled his neck and kissed the bitemark. A tremble ran through the muscles of his thighs and he swallowed hard.

“Billy—” he started and choked on another noise, fingers balling into fists against the dirt. His thighs trembled again, shaking with protest.

Billy nipped the skin behind his ear, hands smoothing over the blood-scabbed dips he’d left on Steve’s hips, gently lowering him to the ground. Steve bit his tongue as Billy settled on top of him, heavy and solid, cock driving deeper with the change of angle.

He settled his cheek in the grass and listened to his heart slow and his blood calm. Billy went back to kissing his neck, his own heartbeat heavy against Steve’s back.

“I love you,” Steve murmured into the ground, tired and doped up.

Billy paused, a hint of teeth grazing Steve’s skin again. “Love you, too.”

#harringrove #billy x steve #my fic

106 notes · View notes

strangenormal · 6 years

Photo

Gif posted by billy–hargrove

Cherry Bomb Part 7

Summary: You were Billy’s best friend when he lived in California. You lost touch, not by choice. You never took the chance to share your feelings before he left. Will you take the chance now that you followed him all the way to Hawkins?

Billy x Reader/ POSSIBLE Steve x Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters featured in Stranger Things. Story will contain mature content as it progresses. Requests are open & hope you enjoy. Image credit to original poster.

Warnings: SMUT IS CONTAINED. Shielded in between “****” marks. Scroll past second mark to go past smut.

You couldn’t sleep being worried about not just Billy getting home late, but Max getting home late as well. Even though Billy had nothing to do with that, you knew he worked hard to not give Neil any excuse to get on his ass. After about an hour of just sitting on your couch and playing scenarios through your head you were startled by a thud on your door.

You quickly got up and slowly made your way to your door. You peered through the peep hole and didn’t see anything, but it was the sound of someone moaning that had you rip your door open. Billy fell at your feet, his face covered in blood from what you assumed to be a broken nose. You had seen Billy beaten before, but this was a new level.

You bent down to help him get inside. You both lightly stumbled over each other as you made your way to your couch. You made a quick sweeping glance around outside before shutting and locking your door. You went to your kitchen grabbed some ice in a rag and a wet rag along with your first aid kit before making your way back to Billy.

“Lift your head Billy.” You sat down for him to place his head back in your lap before you took the warm wet cloth to clean his face. It was then you noticed a cut on his cheek and his eye showing some bruising already too. What you didn’t expect to see was some marks on his knuckles. He never struck back at Neil. You couldn’t think of anything that would set him off enough to actually fight back.

You finished cleaning off the blood as much as you could before getting the antiseptic out of your first aid kit and some cotton balls. He winced and hissed as you got to his cuts and you apologized for the sting. Once he was bandaged up, you helped him to your bed to lay down and took off his shoes. You caught him wincing as he tried to take off his button up. You reached to take off his t-shirt, but his hands caught your wrists.

“Don’t…” Was all that he said and your face turned stern as you escaped his grasp and quickly raised his shirt to see deep bruises already forming on his sides.

“I need to take you to the hospital.”

“Like fuck you do.”

“Damn it Billy, he may have broken some of your ribs!”

“I’m not coughing up blood, and I can breathe somewhat ok, just wrap me up please. You know I can’t go to the cops. One, who would believe me and two, I can’t leave Susan and Max without him to support them financially.”

You were at a loss at that one. You knew Billy didn’t want to get stuck in this small town. He wouldn’t have a choice but to stay and take care of them if he got rid of Neil. He may be an ass hole, but he wouldn’t just ditch Susan and Max like that. You let out a long sigh as you went to get some pain meds and made your way to your linen closet and pulled out some more wrap bandages you had for yourself. You would just go to the store again later.

“Here, take these.” You handed him the pain pills.

“Thanks.” He popped them into his mouth and then stood with his arms up for you to start wrapping his ribs.

Having had to wrap yourself as well as getting to wrap bandages and casts at the vets office helped you get done with him failry quickly. You started to gather all the bloody towels and cotton swabs and etc to feel Billy wrap his arms around you from behind and pull your back into his chest.

“Thank you.” He placed a kiss to the back of your head, then he moved your hair to one side of your neck before placing another kiss where your hair once laid. He started to turn you around and emptied your hands to place everything back on your coffee table before cupping your face with both of his hands before placing a kiss on your lips. You kissed back as you traced your hands up his torso to his chest. He deepened the kiss as he strung one hand through your hair to the back of your neck holding you closer to him. Your tongues danced and teeth pinched lips in a playful manner before you pulled away to catch your breath.

“If this is what I get from cleaning you up and wrapping a bandage, I could only imagine what some stitches would get me.”

“Stick around and you might find out.”

“How about I not, I don’t want you to get hurt that bad…ever if we can avoid it. I’m sure there’s other things I could do to get appreciation from you too.”

“Like what?”

You bit the corner of your lower lip before tracing your hands back down to his waist to his belt before opening it. You watched his body tense quickly and heard his breath hitch before you unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper.

*************************************************************

“I could think of a few things…” You reached into his boxers to palm his slowly hardening shaft.

Your name escapes his lips on his breath before you drop to your knees, taking his pants and boxers down in the process watching his cock spring free of its confines.

You lick your lips as you pump the full extent of his shaft before peering up at him as you slowly take the tip into your mouth.

“Damn baby, I’m really enjoying this view.”

You hum “uh huh” around his cock to feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Shit.”

You took the opportunity to take him fully to the back of your throat. You lightly gagged on his dick before pulling him halfway out to slowly take him back in fully. One of his hands flies to the back of your head as he lightly tangles it in your hair. He’s not doing much guiding, it seems to be more of something for him to hold onto and ground himself. You let the saliva build in your throat and mouth as you gag on him before slowly dragging him out to have a string of spit cross from his tip to your lips as you look up at him and twist your hand lightly up his shaft.

“Fuck y/n.” He quickly helps you get up before he sits on your couch to pull you on top of him. You do your best to not have too much of your weight on his torso as you kiss him as he slides a hand down between you to start tracing it over your clothed pussy.

“Take off your clothes.”

You felt your insides twitch at his demand and demeanor about it. It wasn’t in a bad way. Although he held a commanding presence, you trusted him. You quickly took off all your clothes and started to feel self-conscious as his eyes slowly drank you in from head to toe and back up again.

“You’re so beautiful y/n,” he pulled you back on top of him as he kissed you fervently. He placed one hand on your right breast as his other hand snaked between you two and traced your damp lips.

“You’re already so wet for me.” He didn’t wait for a response before he applied pressure to your clit as he massaged your right breast while dropping his mouth to your left breast. The combination of all the stimulations had you a moaning mess. He earned his name to burst from your lips as he dipped a finger inside you swiftly while still applying pressure on your clit with his thumb flicking over it. He added another finger as you started to ride his fingers and pump his shaft with your right hand.

Your breath gained speed as that spring inside you tightened.

“Cum for me baby.” Your walls clenched around his fingers as your climax burst at his command. He helped you ride out your orgasm as he still played with your breasts and pumped his fingers. As you regained a normal pace to your breath he licked his fingers clean before grabbing a condom and placing it on his dick before you angled yourself above him.

“Your sure about this y/n?”

You placed a gentle, but passionate filled kiss to his lips before slowly easing yourself down his cock to fill you to the hilt. It was a satisfying pain as he stretched your walls slightly. You both sat for a minute just staring at each other as you adjusted to his size. He waited for you to make the first move before starting to jut his hips to match your pace. He continued to play with your breasts massaging them and pinching your nipples here and there. You started to ride him at a relentless pace, but he kept in time with you. You started to feel your climax build again.

“I’m gonna cum Billy.” He moved his hand to have his thumb flick over your clit in rhythm to your movements and you felt his own pace start to become more erratic.

“I’m close y/n, cum for me baby.”

It only took a few more flicks of his thumb before your vision sparked and you felt him reach his climax shortly after you. Billy pulled you up lay next to him before he got up and made his way to your bathroom. You heard your sink turn on and off and were surprised that he came back with a warm wash cloth to clean you up a little before grabbing your hands to help you up and get to bed.

****************************************************

“We can shower in the morning, you did just wrap me up.” You nodded lightly before pulling back your covers and sliding underneath to curl into Billy’s open arms.

You laid in his arms as he lightly traced his fingers up and down your forearm and felt yourself drifting off. You weren’t even sure if you really hear Billy whisper an “I love you” before sleep overcame you or if you started to imagine it. You went to sleep satisfied none the less to be held in his arms.

——————— I’m not the best at smut, but hope it was enjoyable. Sorry for the ling hiatus. The gang will start to be more involved shortly. 😊

@the--real-wombat

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction

25 notes · View notes

chandlers-third-nip · 6 years

Text

Badass- Imagine Pt. 2

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warning: sexual assault, swearing, fluff

Word Count: 1744

Summary: Billy threatens the reader and Steve finds out and wants to protect them. (Part 2)

Part 1

You wake up the next morning cuddled up next to Steve, with his arm draped over you protectively. You roll over and see he is already awake, stroking your arm comfortingly. He looks down when he notices you’re awake and smiles down at you, kissing your cheek.

“I have to go home and shower and I’ll be back here in a while to pick you up for school.” he said softly. You nod and he starts to pull himself out of bed. You whine and reach out your hand. He raises his eyebrows and leans back down to you. You run a hand through his messy bed head and knot your fingers in his hair. “Hey, babe you know I have to go.” he whispers.

“Uh huh,” you reply and pull his lips down to yours. He groans against your mouth as he forces himself to pull away and climb back out your window. You lay in bed for a few moments longer and then pull yourself out of bed and into the shower.

ΦΦΦ

“Oh shit, I think I left my Chemistry textbook in my locker.” Steve mutters as the two of you walk to his car.

“Go ahead and go get it, babe, I’ll wait here.” You look down at your hands intertwined between your two bodies. Steve had not left your side all day and there had been no problems so what were five minutes alone?

“No, it’s okay, I’ll just do the homework tomorrow at lunch.” he says quickly.

“Go and get it, Steve, I’ll be fine for the few minutes it’ll take you to go run and get it.” You laugh nervously. He scans the scene around his car, deems it safe and lets go of your hand. He declares that he will be back before you know it and runs back the way you two had come. You set your bag down and lean against his car and fiddle with your fingers nervously. You hoped it wasn’t obvious how scared you were.

Your fear comes to life as you see that familiar mop of dangerous ringlets start to approach you, a halo of cigarette smoke wafting around them. Steve’s words replay in your head, “Oh my god, I am dating a badass,” and you stand a little taller, feeling more confident. However, this feeling is immediately squashed when Billy stands over you, at least a head taller.

“You missed our date, sweetheart, I thought we had a deal. You give me what I want and I spare your boyfriend his dignity.” He sneers, blowing smoke in your face, causing you to gag.

You wave it away and glare at him, “Fuck off, Billy. I’m dating Steve and I want nothing to do with you, so please save yourself the dignity and get the hell out of here.”

Billy leans in closer to you and moves your hair as he did yesterday. You are frozen in fear and unable to push his hand off. “Such a pretty little mark, soon I will leave more and people will know that you have been marked as mine.” You suck in a breath as he leans closer, the feeling of his warmth breath on your neck causing goosebumps to rise. Then it was gone, Steve stood in front of you, the anger in his face all too obvious. Steve cups your cheek in a sweet gesture and then turns back to face Billy who was regaining his balance.

“Get away from her, Billy. You sick son of a bitch, what kind of man goes after another guy’s girl?” Steve snarls at him. Billy steps closer and starts smiling.

“Is this the King Steve I’ve been waiting so long for? Is this him? Well, it’s about damn time, don’t you think?” And with that he grabs Steve’s jacket in his large fists and throws him to the side, his path to you clear once again. You squeal as he quickly pins you to the side of Steve’s car and snatches your wrist in his hand and rolls up your sleeve. Steve is on his feet once more and hovers over the both of you, unsure of what to do that would not put you in harm’s way.

“Look at these pretty marks I gave her,” he cackles his delight, shoving your arm towards Steve.

“Get off of her, man. You wanna fight me that’s fine but leave her out of this.” Steve almost pleads, his eyes huge with concern, trying to catch yours which are squeezed shut.

“Oh, but I haven’t showed you my favorite,” Billy grips your chin between his strong fingers and tilts your neck so Steve can see the ugly mark there. “I can’t believe how soft her skin is, what about you Harrington? She must still be innocent. Is that it?” he asks turning back to you. “Can Harrington not give it to you? I could, you know, I could give you what you want.” You open your eyes and spit in Billy’s face. This enrages him and with your chin still captured in his hand, he raises his second hand but you never feel the strike. In fact, Billy’s whole body weight is removed from you. You open your eyes again and see a terrible sight in front of you.

Steve and Billy are rolling around on the ground together, landing blows wherever they can reach. You shriek and tell them to stop. “Stop! Stop! Please!” Both boys’ faces are bloody and fists are flying everywhere. Suddenly, Billy lands a blow to Steve’s throat and he chokes, causing him to hesitate his next punch. Billy takes the upper hand and start hitting as hard and as quickly as he can and you are screaming. “Billy, get the fuck off of him, you’re gonna kill him!”

You panic and look around frantically and spot Steve’s abandoned textbook on the ground. You snatch it up quickly and with all your strength, bring the thick book down on top of Billy’s head. He drops quickly and Steve rolls on top of him and brings a couple more final punches to his face, making sure he won’t retaliate, threatening as he does so, “If you ever talk to her, or come close to her, or so much as breathe the same air as her, I swear to God that I will end your life, Billy Hargrove. You’re a disgrace, you sick bastard!”

He stumbles off of him and tries to put his feet under him. He wobbles and you immediately reach out and wrap an arm around his waist, encouraging him to lean on you. “C’mon, let’s get you in the car.” you whisper and bring him around to the passenger side, despite his protests. You pull open the door and he practically falls into the seat. Once you are positive he is settled you jog around the the driver side and see Billy start to sit up. You can’t help yourself and kick him straight in the groin and then jump into Steve’s car, speeding away quickly.

ΦΦΦ

You pulled up in front of your house and quickly open the passenger side door and see Steve passed out in the seat. You start to panic and lean down next to him, attempting to shake him awake. “Steve, baby, please, please wake up!” You stroke his hair, coating your fingers in blood, but you hardly care. Getting desperate, tears start making their way down your cheeks and you are shaking him roughly. “Please, wake up you stupid idiot. You can’t do this right now, I owe you so much, please! Wake UP!” you scream and he groans pitifully as he is pulled back into consciousness.

“Oh my god.” you whisper as you kiss his lips to which he groans louder due to pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He opens those beautiful eyes and tries to smile, though it comes out more as a grimace. “I’m awake, baby, I’m here.”

“Can you stand?” you inquire, grabbing fistfuls of his jacket and start to haul him to his feet. He nods and tries to take a step and he leans on you so heavily, you almost fall over. You grit your teeth and gather all your anger and use it as power to drag him across your lawn and all the way up the stairs. Thankfully, neither of your parents were home, that would have take a lot of explaining that you did not have time for at the moment.

You sit him down on the toilet and demand he stay put until you come back with the first aid kit. You quickly locate it in your parent’s bathroom and step back into your own bathroom. When you step in, you see Steve has stripped off his bloodstained shirt. You suck in a breath and try to avoid staring at him for too long.

After ten minutes the majority of the blood coated on his body is gone and the cuts show through. He is the first to speak. “(Y/N), I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen, I shouldn’t have left you.” He says, closing his eyes. “I just didn’t want to be too protective and I thought you would be okay and god, if I hadn’t gotten there when I did-” he was cut off by you gently placing your finger to his lips.

“Steve, don’t apologize, there was no way you could have been able to predict that was going to happen. Thank you for everything, I love you.” you whisper. He smiles and pulls you closer, resting his head on your chest. After a while, he raises his head and asks, “All done, Doctor (Y/N)?”

“I think so,” you say looking at his bandaged face.

“Wait, you need to kiss them all better,” he pouts, “especially this one!” He pointed out his split lip, to which you rolled your eyes and kissed his outstretched lips. Once you pull away, he speaks again, ��Hey, babe, I don’t know if I was hallucinating when I was in the car, but did you kick him in the balls?”

“Hell yeah I did, for you babe.”

“What did I tell you? A badass.” You laugh and look lovingly at Steve and place another kiss on a bandage on his cheek.

“C’mon you, let’s get that fabulous hair washed and then we can go lay down in my room.”

“Anything for you.”

Hope you guys like the second part! Let me know if you want more with King Steve!

-flawlessara

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