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estrellami-1 · 6 months ago

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How Steve Harrington Gets a Family

The first time it happened, Steve didn’t remember. He had no idea why Hopper was acting so weird until Joyce took him aside, sighing softly.

“Oh, honey,” she murmurs. “You don’t remember, do you?”

He frowns at her. “Remember what?”

“You called him dad, Steve.”

“I-” he gapes. “What?”

It goes like this.

He’d been hospitalized, after the Russians; he doesn’t know all the details, won’t for years, but Hopper had escaped from the reactor, thrown his weight—and title—around until someone had put Steve in a room, in a bed, gotten an IV into him, run whatever tests doctors run.

He was delirious with the truth serum still in his system and the adrenaline wearing off, groaning in pain and mumbling nonsense.

Hopper had put a hand on his head, said, “I’ve got you, Steve. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

“Dad,” Steve had mumbled, shifting into Hopper’s hand, and promptly passed out.

“Oh,” Steve whispers after Joyce tells him. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, no shit he’s been acting weird, I mean why would he want me as a kid- shit, I need to apologize-”

“Whoa,” Joyce says seriously, hands on his shoulders. “Slow down, Steve. You know Hopper loves you, right?”

Steve bites his lip on the snark that wants to come out, instead choosing to just blink at her.

“Christ,” Joyce laments, “I’m going back to school, everyone need so much damn therapy.” She takes a breath and looks Steve in the eye. “Hopper loves you, Steve. He’s considered you his kid for a long time now.”

Steve gapes at her. “No he hasn’t!”

Joyce raises a brow. “Uh-huh. And how many parties has he busted, exactly? And how many marks do you have on your record?”

Steve snaps his mouth shut. “Oh, shit,” he whispers, looking up at Joyce. “He- he does? Really?”

“Really,” Joyce confirms, pulling him into a hug.

“Oh,” he mumbles, before letting himself enjoy the hug.

Later, when he’s about to head home, he stops in front of Hopper, glancing nervously over to Joyce, who nods encouragingly. “Can I, uh. Talk to you? For a second?”

Hopper narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “No, nothing! Just-” he sighs, runs a hand through his hair, gestures Hopper out the door and around the side of the house. “So, Joyce and I were talking, right? And I was wondering why you’d been acting weird around me, and I didn’t even remember what I said in the hospital, so Joyce told me, and- and I don’t expect anything from you! At all! And it- how I feel doesn’t have to change anything-”

“Christ,” Hopper says, but he’s smiling. “I think you’re worse at emotions than I am.”

“Well I’ve never had to tell anyone I think of them as more of a father figure than my own father before!” Steve blurts out, then freezes.

Hopper bursts out laughing. “Jesus, kid, do you think before you talk?”

Steve’s not hurt. Really. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking anywhere but at Hopper. “I’ll leave.”

A hand on his wrist stops him. “C’mere, kid,” Hopper says, pulling him into a hug.

Steve stiffens. “What?”

“Boy, you’ve been my kid since the third time I didn’t write you up for one of those damn parties,” he grouses.

Steve relaxes into the hug. “So. If I, uh. Were to, maybe, call you dad again…”

“Just see what I’ll do if you don’t,” Hopper says gruffly, and it’s really not that funny but Steve’s just so relieved that he cracks up anyways.

They pull apart after a minute, and Steve has a giddy grin on his face as he backs up. “Bye, Dad,” he says, before turning and running to his car. Hopper’s laughter follows him.

He’s been close to Dustin for a while now, but still refuses to call his mom Claudia. The most he’ll do is Mrs. H, even though every time she sees him, she tries to get him to call her by her first name.

He can’t do it. He can’t make himself. Maybe it’s the manners instilled in him, maybe he’s just awkward as fuck, who knows. But he chickens out every time.

That’s why, when she answers the door, he smiles. “Hey, Mrs. H.”

“Steve,” she greets him warmly. “Come in, come in. Call me Claudia. Oh, what is this? I told you you don’t have to bring anything!”

“Just some cookies,” he promises her, putting them down where she directs and falling into the hug she gives him.

“Dear,” she asks him later, when they’re sitting at the table with Dustin, “call me Claudia, please?”

Steve can’t look at her; passes the butter Dustin’s silently asking for. “Sorry, Mrs. H.”

“Jesus,” Dustin groans, buttering his roll. “If you can’t even say her name then at least call her mom.”

Steve’s cheeks are on fire. “That’s not exactly up to me, Dust,” he grits out.

“Oh, dear,” Claudia sighs. “I would love for you to call me mom.”

“Then we’d be brothers,” Dustin adds, “which we basically are anyways.”

Steve snorts. “I don’t think that’s exactly how it works,” he tells Dustin, but takes a breath and smiles at Claudia. “Thanks, Mom,” he says quietly. Claudia beams back at him.

“I don’t give a damn!” Claudia yells at the hospital receptionist, who really just looks exceedingly bored.

Steve knows the look of someone who’s grabbing their pepper spray. “Mom?” He calls, wet and wobbly, and Claudia spins around, running to his side.

“Oh, Stevie,” she murmurs, gently cupping his hands. “Oh, goodness, your face- have you gotten looked at? Has someone come to see you? Where’s Dustin?”

Steve opens his mouth to answer and promptly bursts into tears. “He’s f-fine,” he manages. “Ankle. Getting- getting helped. But- Mom-”

She hushes him, pulling him down into a seat next to her. “Let it out, Steve, there you go. Mom’s here, I’ve got you.”

He finally composes himself enough to pull back and look at her. “It’s not good, Mom,” he whispers. “I tried, I really did, and I know CPR but he was losing so much blood-”

“Steve,” she stops him, “I thought you said Dustin was fine?”

“He is, it’s just his ankle, but Eddie, Mom… he’s back there, they’re doing surgery, but he- I felt-” he grabs at his own chest, and somehow Claudia knows what he means. “Oh, dear,” she murmurs, pulling him into another hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers into his ear. “You did what you could, you kept him stable until the doctors could do their job, and now it’s their turn, okay? Let them take care of it. They’re gonna do everything they can.”

His eyes well up again. “He didn’t kill anyone, Mom.”

“Oh, I know that, sweetie. It’s okay. I never thought he did.”

“But they do!” He sniffs, wipes at his face. “And what- what if-”

She pulls his attention back to her with a hand on his face. “Did I tell you about the time a known serial killer came in?” She whispers. He shakes his head. “He’d been in an… altercation, with the police. Shots had been fired. We all knew who he was, but when he flatlined on the table, we got his heart beating again.” She grips his hand tightly. “Doctors take an oath, Steve. They’re going to do everything they can. Okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, letting her pull him into another hug.

“Y’wanna tell me about Eddie?”

“You know Eddie.”

“Mhm, from Dusty. I’ve never heard about him from your perspective before.”

“I didn’t really know him before today,” he admits. “I knew of him, in high school, a little bit, but then I graduated and he didn’t and then Dustin started raving about him and… I got jealous.”

“Oh, Steve.” She cards a hand through his hair. “You know Dustin will always love you. You’re brothers.”

Steve sighs. “I know, but… we’re also not. I love you more than I love the woman who birthed me, and I love Dust as much as I’d love any biological sibling I could ever have, but-”

“I know,” Claudia says. “It’s okay, dear. Keep going. Tell me about Eddie.”

“Right. So I got jealous, and then I really didn’t wanna meet him, ‘cause he actually sounded kinda cool and I’m just… me. And I know what you’re gonna say, but you’re biased as my mom.” Claudia just chuckles. “But then I met him, and… he’s really nice, Mom. He really loves the twerps. And he’s, like… kind? And I know nice and kind are synonyms but it’s different. Like he’s just… an inherently good person. That’s kind. Nice you can fake. But you can’t fake kind. Y’know?”

“I know what you mean,” she agrees.

“Okay, good. Well he’s kind. He-” Steve sniffs. “He called me a good dude.”

“Well,” Claudia says, smiling, “you are.”

Steve chuckles wetly. “I am now, maybe, but I wasn’t when we knew each other in high school, and I didn’t really expect him to say anything. And he’s so passionate, Mom, and he’s talented, and he’s selfless, but that backfired because it landed him here-”

Claudia hums, strokes a hand through his hair. “How long have you liked him?” He stiffens. “Oh, please, like I haven’t known this entire time. Honestly, Steve, I’m not an idiot. And I’m not some backwards idiot especially who thinks two boys who love each other are the greatest sin.”

“No, it- Mom, you love Robin, of course you’re fine with it, I just- I didn’t… I didn’t realize.”

“Oh, Stevie,” she sighs, running her hand through his hair again. “When he gets out, are you gonna do something about it?”

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Maybe. If- if he even wants to be friends-”

“Okay, now I know you’re talking crazy,” she teases him, grinning.

Just then Hopper walks in, looking around with wide eyes, stopping when he sees Steve. “Dad!” Steve yelps, standing and walking quickly towards him, stopping about three steps in. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters, because he knows the way the room is spinning and his vision is going out.

He’s out before he hits the ground.

He wakes up later to find he didn’t hit the ground, actually; Hopper had leapt forward and caught him the second he’d stopped walking and started swaying.

He blinks bleary eyes open and finds himself looking at a ceiling tile. “What-”

“Don’t move,” comes Hopper’s voice from beside him.

He turns his head to frown at him. “Dad? What happened?”

“You passed out. Jumped outta Claudia’s arms like she’d burned you when you saw me. Much as I love you, kid, the parent’s gotta go first this time, ‘kay? No more self-sacrificing bullshit and not getting medical attention when you need it.”

“M’kay,” Steve says. “Sorry, Dad.”

Hopper puts a hand on his head. It’s comforting. “Go to sleep, kid.”

When he wakes up again, he’s more lucid. He looks around, sees Claudia asleep in the chair next to him. Looks on his other side, and his breath catches when he sees Eddie. His eyes are closed, he’s still asleep, but he’s alive.

“Mom,” he whispers, tearing his eyes away from Eddie to look at her. He feels bad, a little, waking her, but only a little because he knows she’d tear him a new one if he didn’t. “Mom.”

She starts awake and tears up when she sees him. “Stevie,” she murmurs, cradling his face with her hand.

“Mom,” he says again. “He’s here.”

Claudia chuckles. “You can thank your father and I for that one. We raised hell.”

“I bet you did,” he says appreciatively.

“And you, young man,” she says, too full of love to really be mean, “next time you tell me when you’ve been half eaten, okay? Or have you forgotten I’m a nurse?”

“Didn’t forget,” he murmurs, nudging her hand with his face. “Just wanted to stay with you.”

“Oh, Steve,” she murmurs. “You beautiful boy.”

He falls asleep again.

He wakes up again later and looks over to see Eddie also awake, and also looking at him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

It’s hard to tell from where he is, but it looks like Eddie’s blushing. “Looks like I’ve got you to thank for saving my life.”

Now Steve’s blushing. “Ah,” he eloquently says. “No, I mean, just- what anyone else would do?”

“Are you asking me?”

Oh, god, is he teasing? Steve barely survived the flirting before, but now there’s nothing else to keep his attention off Eddie, nothing else he can blame the blush on. “…I just didn’t do much,” he belatedly says.

“Bullshit.” He shifts and hisses in pain. “Fuck, those bastards got me good. But that- that’s proof, y’know?”

Steve blinks. He doesn’t know. “What?”

Eddie grins at him. The stitches in his cheek pull, but don’t tear. “That you saved me.”

Abruptly, Steve tears up. He looks away, up at the ceiling, wills the tears to stay inside. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you-”

“No,” he answers quickly. Too quickly. There’s an awkward silence now. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I- I felt your heart stop, okay?” He looks over again, knows the tears are there, knowing they’re leaking into his hairline and across the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t sure the doctors were even gonna try that hard to save you. And now you’re joking with me, and-” he takes a quick breath, holds it. Releases it slowly. “‘M just glad you’re okay,” he finally says.

“Oh,” Eddie says quietly. “I, uh. Didn’t think you really… cared. About me.”

“I think I care more than I should.”

Eddie takes a breath. “I’m about to say something way too brave, and I’m only saying it ‘cause we’re both in hospital beds and I’m assuming you can’t just, like, walk over and punch me.”

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. But, uh. Anyways. I don’t… people don’t care about me. My uncle Wayne does, sure, and the kids, but that’s different, and- well. I’ll take whatever care you wanna give me. It won’t be too much.”

“Okay,” Steve says, “well I definitely don’t want to punch you for that, what the hell, but I hope you know you’re gonna get hugged for that as soon as I figure out how to undo all this shit.” He gestures to the tubes in his arms, and Eddie starts to laugh, then stops just as quickly with a hiss.

“Okay, abs got eaten, no laughing,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Shit, dude, stay in bed, you had like five people in here earlier who all told me specifically to not let you out of bed, though how I’m supposed to do that I dunno.”

Steve blinks over at him. “Five?”

“Well- four, now that I count. Dustin was here with his mom, he’s getting released later but was allowed out of bed for a minute and came to see us. Robin, and she looked angry, are you two, like, okay?”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, she’s just worried.”

“And then Chief Hopper, which- do you wanna explain why the actual Chief of Police was in here?”

“Ah,” Steve says, and blushes again. “He kinda, like… adopted me? Not officially, obviously, but he’s… well, I call him dad, so-”

“And Claudia?”

Steve hums. “‘S my mom. Dust’s my brother.”

Eddie snorts. “Jesus, Harrington, d’you just go around collecting people to call your parents? How many d’you have now, four?”

“Nah, just two. My parents fucked off pretty permanently by the time I was nine. And before that I had nannies when they were gone.”

Eddie blinks at him. “You- wait. Back up. You’ve been alone for the entirety of high school?”

Steve thinks. “I mean, I had Hopper, kinda, but that was before he became Dad, so… I guess?”

“Goddamn,” Eddie whispers wonderingly. “And you’re still sane?”

Steve snorts. “Jury’s out on that one, I mean I do willingly hang out with the twerps, so-”

“Fuck, don’t make me laugh, man.” He sighs. “I get it, though,” he says quietly. “Mom was an angel, but… Dad got to her, y’know? Tore her wings off, rubbed her halo in the dirt. Poured alcohol down her throat until she was dependent on it. And him. And when she-” he shakes his head. “Then it was just Dad, and he got sent away ‘cause apparently his new car wasn’t his, y’know? And I went to live with Wayne at twelve.”

“But now you’ve got Wayne.”

“Mhm.” He smiles a little. “Call ’im pops sometimes, ‘cause he’s my real dad now. Sometimes Wayne, sometimes Uncle Wayne. He doe’n’t care much.”

“What’s it like? Living with him?”

“It’s been a dream, honestly. He’s the nicest person I’ve ever met, and he’s got patience to rival a saint. Doesn’t care when I play my music loud, or forget to eat, or bring boy—uh, girls—over.”

Steve hums. “There’s still the house in Loch Nora, but I stay with the Hendersons most days. I tend to bring people I meet to Loch Nora, just ‘cause it’s empty, y’know? I mean, Dust’s a little shit, and he’d tease me regardless of who I brought home. Mom wouldn’t care. Hell, she’d probably give me a condom and lube,” he laughs. “And she’s teaching Dustin to be the same way. He’ll get there one day.”

“He’s a twerp,” Eddie agrees. “I didn’t know you, uh-”

“Mhm,” Steve answers. “Robin says I’m like Bowie.”

“Like Bowie- you’re bisexual?”

“That’s the one!” Steve says happily. “I can never remember the name.”

Eddie looks at him wonderingly. “Who are you, Steve Harrington?”

Eventually they get out of the hospital, and eventually they stop circling around each other. Eventually they kiss, and fall asleep on the couch, and make each other breakfast, and do certain things behind closed doors that Steve still can’t think about without blushing.

Eventually they’re outside the Munson’s trailer, working in the garden that Eddie, surprisingly, loved.

“Imma go in,” Steve says eventually. “Get a drink.”

“Alright,” Eddie says, not looking up from where he’s pulling weeds near his tomatoes. “I’ll be here.”

Steve has a bit of a headache already, and he knows drastic temperature changes don’t help. He didn’t think the trailer was that big of a difference, but it’s cool enough he’s got goosebumps breaking out along his arms almost immediately. Then he’s hit with a blast of freezing air when he opens the fridge, and his head begins to throb. “Fuck,” he mutters, shutting the door and grabbing for a glass, hoping the sink water isn’t too cold.

It’s cooler than he’d like, but it’s all he’s got right now, and he knows if he doesn’t hydrate it’s going to end up worse. He chugs two glasses, sets the cup down, and goes to sit at the table, rubbing his eyes.

It gets worse almost without him realizing: one second his relatively fine, the next he’s groaning in pain, trying to block out all the light by laying his head on his forearm.

A hand on his back startles him. “Dee?”

“Wayne,” comes the gruff voice. “Not Eddie. Y’got a migraine?”

“Mhm.”

“Y’take anything for it?”

Steve waves a hand. “Had water.”

Wayne leaves for a minute, comes back and presses two pills into Steve’s hand. A glass of water is placed in front of him.

He takes the pills, squinting, and lays his head back down.

“Nuh-uh,” Wayne says, “up you get, c’mon, you’re sleepin’ this off.” Hands at his shoulders guide him out of his seat, shuffle him slowly down the hall to Eddie’s cool, dark room. Lay him down and pull the blankets over him.

Steve sighs and relaxes into the bed, cracking an eye open to look at Wayne. “Thanks, Pops,” he murmurs, then winces when Wayne freezes. “S’rry. Wayne.”

Wayne pets a hand through Steve’s hair. “Pops works just fine,” he says. “I’ll tell Ed you’re in here.”

“M’kay,” Steve breathes, and lets himself fall asleep.

They’re at Hopper’s cabin, an annual We Saved the World semi-party that usually ends in at least one disagreement.

Eddie’s got most of the kids corralled away in the living room, with promises of an epic one-shot. The adults, Steve, Max, and El are in the kitchen.

He doesn’t know who started it, but someone teases him, and Hopper ruffles his hair with another jab. “Dad,” he complains good-naturedly, laughing.

“Steve?” El asks.

“Yeah?” He looks at her.

“Hopper is your dad.”

Steve glances at Hopper, who’s listening, but making no move to answer. “I mean… not, like, biologically, but yeah.”

“Me too,” El says. “Are you my brother, then?”

Steve flounders. “I- I guess if you want me to be?”

“You’re a good brother to Dustin,” she answers. “I haven’t had any good brothers besides Will, and we are the same age. I would like a good older brother.”

He smiles, tugs her into a hug. “I guess I’m your brother, then.”

She goes willingly. “Does that mean Joyce is your mom too?” She looks up at him, big eyes serious. “She is a good mom.”

“Uh,” Steve says, “that’s kinda up to Joyce.”

“Oh, honey,” Joyce says, because of course everyone had stopped talking the moment El had started. “Why don’t you call me Mama J?”

Steve smiles bashfully, accepting her hug. “Sounds good to me.”

When he tells Eddie later, his boyfriend laughs. “You really do collect parents!”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #jim hopper #wayne munson #joyce byers #el hopper #steve keeps accidentally getting adopted #He’s not mad about it #starambles

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writeroutoftime · 5 months ago

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our family

pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader (requested by: @piratejakesgf)

summary: it's the first morning tyler is going back to storm chasing after the birth of your daughter and he finds he needs some reassurances in the nursey.

warnings: none (though not proofread lol)

words: 0.7k

a/n: oh my goodness, thank you for this request!! it was so sweet and fun to write! imagining this man as a father truly made me swoon! please enjoy!! 💕

oOoOo

The sun slowly began peaking over the skyline - a gentle nudge to those still asleep that morning was soon arriving. Not included in that group was Tyler Owens. Instead, he stood in the baby pink nursey, staring down in the crib at his seven-month-old daughter. His finger stroked over her soft cheek, memorizing every breath she took.

Tyler thought the moment he met and fell for you that his life was changed forever. But it changed all over ago seven months ago when he held his daughter for the first time. It was then that he knew nothing in his life was more important than being there for his two girls.

He could feel the anxiety building in his body the longer he stood and simply watched. Tyler knew that eventually he was going to have to tear himself away from her, from you, and get back out to chasing. And dep down, he truly was excited. To be back with his team, doing what he loved. But it all felt so much more complicated now.

He went through a similar spiral once 'I love you's' were shared between each other. It was so easy to go out in the middle of a damn tornado when there was no one waiting for him. And now there were two people who would be waiting to for him to make it home safely.

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Tyler didn't hear you shuffle into the nursey. It was only when you wrapped your arms around his frame and pressed your cheek against his sturdy back that he found himself relaxing the tiniest bit.

"Morning, darling." he whispered, letting go of the crib railings in favor of grasping your hands with his.

Your response of incoherent mumbles brought a much-needed smile to his face. Carefully, he untangled your limbs and turned you until your sleepy face met his green eyes. He titled his head forward so his forehead could rest against yours, soaking in this quiet moment.

"How you feeling today, cowboy?" you whispered, not wanting to shatter the bubble that encompassed you both.

Tyler sighed and stepped back so he could pull you into his chest. "I, I don't know if I'm being honest." he confessed. "Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to be back out with the team again, but..."

"But?" you prompted, offering Tyler a space to just think and talk with zero judgments.

"But, I also don't want to leave the two of you. I mean what if something happens here while I'm gone? O-or what if something happens to me while I'm out there?"

You took a moment to carefully craft your response. "I can't say that I won't be worried while you're out there. But that's nothing new. I know you're going to do everything in your power to come home to me - to us." you said, your voice firm.

"Of course I will." Tyler vowed

"Well, we'll be waiting for you when you come home. And that'll just mean the reunion is that much sweeter." you told him with a sly smile.

Greedily, you pushed forward until your lips met Tyler's chapped ones. He responded immediately and held you impossibly tighter. The kiss was long and full of passion, both of you expressing everything that couldn't be said. Love, passion, and promises of more early morning kisses to come.

You eventually pull away and swayed slightly in the nursey as Tyler still held you tightly. Though he felt more relaxed, you could tell there was something he was holding back. As gently as you could, you grasped his chin in your fingers and forced him to look at you.

"And, when you come back home, if it still doesn't feel right - we'll figure it out. We're always here for you, whatever it is you're going to do."

Tyler nodded, teeth caught on his lips as he tried to hold back his tears. "What would I do without you both?" he asked with a small laugh. And when he got into his truck and turned back to see you and your daughter waving goodbye to him, he knew he'd make it back to you whatever mother nature threw his way.

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens imagine #twisters x reader #twisters imagine #rita writes

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joeyfranchise · 3 months ago

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cuz you know that’s it’s delicate

joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: what happens when joe’s teammate slips a joke about your size difference and it sends you spiraling? being in love with joe since college has been tough but what happens when he starts figuring it out and trying to unravel you more?

warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, MDNI. heaaaavy size kink, joe being a smartass should be it’s own warning, language, p in v, fingering, oral (f. receiving), roughness. probably more? this one was so much fun, plzzz stick around til the end. 🤭

word count: 3.1k!

note: heyyy everyone! my first joey smut 🤭 i hope y’all love it and again MDNI!! (shoutout to my boo @slimshiesty, hate me later and that stray ball part is rotting in my brain, so i snuck a lil of it in here as an ode to you. ily bbg. 💗) (also another taylor swift title bc i fr couldn’t think of anything else plus i used it a bit.. i swear i’m not trying to steal anyones thing i love all the joey swifties)

tags: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 (plz message me or send an ask to be added!) part 2

sexual frustration has to be one of the worst things in the world. sexual frustration at the hands of your best friend, however, takes the cake.

it started at a party two weeks ago when you were invited out by joe, the star nfl quarterback, certified dweeb, and your very best friend all wrapped into one.

flashback

you were sitting around with joe and some of his teammates, listening in on their conversations and people watching the rest of the time. it was easiest for you to hang out with joe and ja’marr since you knew them from college, but the rest of their teammates and their teammates partners were really cool too, and all so welcoming to you.

everyone was laughing and joking, having a laid back time, picking on each other for random things. that was, until, someone mentioned how funny it was to see you standing next to joe, being that he was well over a foot taller than you.

“what? how’s it funny?” joe asked, glancing between you and his teammate. “because you make her look so tiny! like a little doll. get up and stand next to each other.”

you were reluctant to move from your seat, hating where this was leading. it was already hard enough having feelings for your best friend over the span of a few years, but this was crossing dangerous territory. kink territory.

for you, there was something about how much bigger than you joe was. he towered over you. his body was lean but built with thick muscles. he could quite literally pick you up and sling you around like a rag-doll. (and honestly if he did, you’d thank him.)

you hoped his teammate pointing out your size difference wouldn’t be turned into a big deal, but once joe pulled you out of your chair to stand next to him, it was like the gates of hell opened.

you stood side by side, your head barely even reaching his armpit. everyone around the table laughed, including joe. “damn, i guess i never really focused on how little you are, y/n.” joe laughed, and placed his forearm on top of your head like an armrest.

alarms went off in your head. ABORT MISSION. ABORT MISSION.

you cleared your throat quickly, and came to your senses, shoving joe off before getting back into your seat. “maybe i’m not small, maybe you’re just a freakishly large man.” you remark, trying to keep your voice even.

“nah,” he replied, sitting down next to you again, “you’re sooooo tiny.” he laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you flipped him the finger. “fuck you big bird.” you snarked before downing the rest of your drink. god knows you need it. you hoped that your pink cheeks would be chalked up to the alcohol and that nobody else had caught on.

the next instance came a few days later, on a sunday, and it was much worse than the first. so, so much worse.

flashback to sunday

you came to the bengals’ home stadium to watch their game, and since it was early you figured you’d go down to the field to say hi to joe and some of your other friends on the team.

you made it down and waved hi to ja’marr, tee and sam before making your way to joe. he spotted you and smiled, walking in your direction to meet you halfway.

you decided on wearing one of his jerseys and a pair of jeans, something simple and comfortable. as soon as he made it to you, the first thing he did was look you up and down and then pick up the sleeve of the jersey before chuckling.

“damn, this thing is swallowing you!” he comments. you playfully smack at his arm. “shut up, joey.”

“it’s cute, though. you look nice. are you excited for the game?”

you don’t give yourself much time to process that “cute” comment. wtf does that even mean? who cares. ABORT MISSION.

“of course i’m excited! i can’t wait to watch you guys kick some ass today—“

your sentence is cut off abruptly as joe grabs you and lifts you, turning your bodies so his back is now facing the opposite direction on the field. his grip on you is so tight that your chest is pressed into his stomach. you look up at his face, his expression a mix between anger and concern. you can feel your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen in disbelief.

“um, joe, you’re bear hugging the hell out of me right now. wanna put me down and explain what happened?”

he lets you down gently, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “stray ball was coming right at you. i didn’t want it to hit you, it would’ve hurt you pretty bad.”

you reach a hand up and pat his chest, feeling the thick muscles. “thank you!” you respond, once again monitoring your tone. “i’m gonna head up and talk to everyone, ok?” you ask, already moving to leave. “yeah, ok.” joe says, focusing his attention on the ground. you can tell he’s contemplating something, but you don’t want to ask. you want to get out of there as quickly as possible.

the final instance came a few days later when you went to joe’s house just to hang out and have dinner.

flashback to wednesday night

you park your car in joe’s garage and step out, tucking your phone and keys in your pocket before heading up the stairs. before you make it to the door, joe’s already opening it and waiting in the doorway.

“hi bub!” you call, pushing past him and stepping inside, kicking off your shoes by the door. he greets you back sweetly and the two of you go sit on barstools in the kitchen, just catching up on things that have gone on this week. you rant to joe about your job and he listens intently, offering what advice he can.

he rants back to you about things going on with the team, and frustrations he’s having on the field. you try to return the favor and offer him some advice, but you know you aren’t of too much help. joe appreciates it regardless.

soon after your food arrives, you find yourselves in the living room, sitting on the couch side by side as a movie plays. you and joe always loved just being around each other, you had so deep of a connection that oftentimes words didn’t need to be shared at all.

you both enjoyed those moments.

you felt yourself starting to doze off until joe laughed at something in the movie, the sound waking you a bit.

“oh, sorry. you can go to sleep.” he whispers, pulling you into his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. you appreciate his warmth and you rub your head on his shoulder as you get comfy. you hear joe chuckle.

“what’s funny?” you mumble, your eyes still closed. “it’s like i’m hyper-aware now of how small you are next to me. it’s so cute.”

you make no outward moves or sounds, but inside you are screaming. yelling. this is the worst one yet.

you don’t know it yet, but joe’s figured it out. he’s seen you get flustered three times now over these comments, and he knows something is going on in your brain when they’re said. he isn’t aware if you have feelings for him like he does for you, but he knows you liked when he picked you up so easily on the field the other day.

it was effortless to him, despite what you might think of yourself.

you sit next to him in silence, eyes still closed, trying to control your breathing. just try to fall asleep again you tell yourself, hoping that joe has no idea. if you only knew.

when you wake in the morning, you’re still snuggled on the couch with him as the soft morning light shines gold around the living room. you shake him awake.

“joey, i gotta get going. i need to go home and get ready for work and you have thursday practice.”

he pulls you in closer for a moment, hugging you bye, and then wishes you a good day at work. you bolt out the door and to your car as fast as you can, heading home to wash the previous day away in the shower.

end of flashbacks

so, this is where you are now.

it’s been almost a week since you’ve talked to joe, avoiding him because you aren’t sure what to say or do. part of you knows he has something figured out, but you don’t know what or how much.

you’re terrified to let him in on your feelings, what’s going on in your head, because you’re delicate and you don’t want to ruin something that has always been there for you.

the other part of you knows you have to tell him, you need to tell him. you love him, you lust after him. the comments that keep being made about your sizes are driving you to the point of insanity that nothing will fix it unless joe manhandles you as rough as you can take it and he fucks it out of you.

you’re pretty sure your vibrator is gonna be on its last leg soon.

alright, i gotta call him. i gotta get this over with.

you grab your phone off the kitchen counter and dial his number, listening to it ring for a few moments.

“hello?” he finally answers, sounding a bit upset.

“hey joey. sorry i haven’t been talking to you this week. i just— i think i need to talk to you about some stuff and.. would you mind coming over later?”

he says nothing for a moment, but you hear him blow out a long breath. “yeah, of course, y/n.” he finally says. “i can be over around 7?”

you check the clock on the stove, it reads 4:34pm.

“7 sounds great! see you then!” you say, hanging up quickly. now you play the waiting game.

all your chores are done, and you take a lovely everything shower to help calm your nerves, and you make sure to drink plenty of water and have a snack as you tell yourself affirmations.

it’s going to be okay, he’s my best friend. he will understand. he will still be my friend regardless, he’s always been there for me. if he rejects me, nothing will change that.

you sit on the couch and scroll your phone as you wait. there’s still just a bit over an hour before joey will arrive, so you waste time scrolling tiktok, cozy on the couch.

soon enough you hear the doorbell, and you jump off the couch to answer it, stepping aside to let joe in.

he sits on your couch, waiting for you to join him and start speaking. “joe, i, um.. i hav-“

he cuts you off. “you have feelings for me? you like it when people compare our sizes because it turns you on?” he smirks, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. he’s manspreading now, his thick thighs on full display. your mouth falls open for a moment.

“yeah. essentially exactly that.” you finally reply.

“so what are we gonna do about that?” he questions, pulling you into his lap. you place your hands on his chest instinctively, and before you know what’s happening he‘s pulling you in for a heated kiss.

his lips are soft against yours and he gently prods at your bottom lip, sliding his tongue past as you open it. he tastes like mint, it’s intoxicating you. one minute his large hands are splayed over your back holding you to him, the next he’s lifting you off the couch by grabbing underneath your armpits and carrying you down the hall, roughly body-slamming you on the bed.

“dude, save the UFC moves for ja’marr!” you groan, sucking in a large breath. joe jumps on the bed, caging you in by placing his knees on either side of your hips and his hands next to your head.

“no, i don’t think so.” he smirks, leaning in closer until your noses are nearly touching. you felt your cheeks heating up at his close proximity, and his eye-contact with you was starting to feel intimidating, even though you had just been sharing such a passionate kiss. you hated that you could feel your wetness soaking through your panties just from him trying to wrestle you.

he blows gently on your face and you shove at him. he laughs you off and leans even closer, pressing the tip of his nose to yours before moving away and leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“this would be a lot easier if you’d just admit that you want me to manhandle you. you want me to go rough, right?” he teases. you’ve had enough of his smugness. you grab the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss, tugging at his hair and nipping his bottom lip. he groans into you. he stands from the bed, picking you up again, carrying you across the room before roughly slamming your body against the wall.

you let out a strangled moan, loving the feeling of him using all his strength on you.

“can i take your shorts off?” he asks, looking into your eyes.

“fuck yes, please.” you breathe out, exhilarated.

joe yanks your shorts and panties down your legs in one swift motion, kneeling down in front of you. he’s able to keep your body held up and pressed against the wall. he looks up at you with questioning eyes, making sure this is okay. you give him a soft nod in response.

he leans in and throws one of your legs over his shoulder. he starts by pressing the smallest kiss to your clit, and then licks a slow, languid stripe up your core. you hiss, your body arching off the wall at the new sensation. when you look down, you find him looking up at you, his beautiful blue eyes trained on your face.

your eyes roll back in your head as he continues his ministrations. you feel the hand that isn’t holding you against the wall rubbing circles on your inner thigh before joe slowly slips a finger into you.

you quickly approach your orgasm, your stomach tight with anticipation. joe doesn’t let up, working you there until your body feels like it’s being dunked into warm bath water, the feeling covering you from head to toe. it takes you a minute to regain your sense of self. joe pulls his fingers from your core and removes your leg from his shoulder, standing back up before lifting you so your legs are around his waist.

you waste no time pulling him in for a kiss. “holy shit, joey!” you moan, baffled at what just happened. he smirks into your kiss.

for the second time, you’re thrown onto the bed. you sit up, propped on your elbows as you watch joe stalk closer, his erection very obvious in his shorts. he pulls his shirt over his head and you do the same, unclasping your bra just after so that you’re completely bare for him.

you chalk your forwardness up to being comfortable with him, normally you wouldn’t have the confidence to act this way. neither would joe, actually, but you shrug it off.

you don’t remember seeing him strip his shorts off or climb on top of you, but you know you’re kissing him again. you can’t get over how good his lips feel. one of his hands traces your curves, he runs his fingers along your body until his large hand is cupping your breast.

he moves his kisses to your neck and you gasp, reveling in the feeling of him kissing and touching you softly and sweetly.

you look down at his throbbing cock and suddenly you feel intimidated. joe hears you gasp. he lets out a soft laugh.

“don’t talk a big game and then act scared of it, baby.” he teases, pressing light kisses to your cheeks. you swallow thickly.

joe reaches down and strokes himself, spitting on his hand to slick himself up. he looks at you once again for confirmation, and you nod to him. he helps you get comfortable beneath him, positioning your legs around his waist as he pushes his tip in. you suck in a harsh breath.

it stings, but it isn’t the worst thing. he moves against you slowly, sliding in inch by inch until he bottoms out. he looks down and you, your faces inches apart, and you giggle.

“what is it bub?” he asks, smiling softly. “they weren’t kidding calling you big dick joe.” you laugh out. joe laughs too.

after giving you a few minutes to adjust, he starts moving hips, rocking into yours slowly. you think this is what the peak of euphoria feels like.

he leans back down to kiss you, his hand finding your throat and squeezing ever so slightly. your back is arched, your chest pressed to his as your hands tangle through his hair. his hands move down, finding your hips and holding them down to the bed. you moan at the rough grip.

he starts going harder, his hips pistoning into yours as you continue kissing, both of you moaning out your pleasure.

“joey, i-i’m close.” you warn, your body covered in a sheen of sweat. you felt it again, you were so close to that warmth once again pulsing over your body.

until.

knock knock knock.

what was that? you thought. you tried to focus on joe but everything seemed to be slipping away.

then, there it was again. the knocking. and the shrill of your phone ringing.

you startled awake, sweat covering your body. you looked at your phone screen. 7:10pm. one missed call from joe.

you threw your throw blanket off, trying to gather your thoughts. what the fuck? what is happening?

you thought you’d just had the best fuck of your life, that everything would be okay with you and joe but… it was just a dream? you dozed off and you didn’t even know it.

“y/n, let me in!” you hear joe yell from the opposite side of the door. you’re panicking, your body is hot, your clothes are stuck to you. still, you get up and almost sprint to the door. you open it, taking in his appearance. just like your dream.

black shorts, black shirt. backwards cap.

“can i come in? are you okay?” he asks. you watch as he takes in your appearance. sweaty hair stuck to your neck, your eyes glazed over.

“um, yeah joe. i’m okay. come in.” you step aside, inviting him in, just like your dream. he sits down.

“so, what did you wanna talk about?” he asks. you sit down next to him, blowing out a long breath. this was gonna be a longggg conversation.

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assumptionprime · 5 months ago

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Playing Dark Souls 2 again and damn, in spite of its rough edges, I think it’s my favorite.

They’re all good, mind you. Dark Souls 1 is the foundation, and 3 is playing the hits while also saying that it can’t just play the hits forever and has to end.

And Dark Souls 2 is doing its own weird different thing and I love it.

I think it has the best story of the three games, because it really concerns itself with people.

The intro isn’t a list of people and monsters you need to kill, it’s your story. How you came into this land. You are afflicted with the curse of undeath, and it’s destroying your life and your mind. Everything that follows is based around that. You’re not the Chosen Undead, a title put on you in the first game because of a role you’re expected to play in some legend. You’re the Bearer of the Curse, because that’s your concern in all this, your curse.

You see it afflict others throughout the game, too. Most of the characters in Majula can’t remember how they got here, their goals, their lives before Drangleic are fading, same as yours. Lucatiel is by far my favorite NPC in any Souls game, a tragic view of another cursed undead that doesn’t quite make it. You fight alongside her. She confides in you, forms a bond with you. And then, as the last remnants of her mind, her self, leave her, she begs you to remember her name. Vendrick, the mighty king of Drangleic, is a shell of himself. He shuffles around in his own tomb, having long ago succumbed to the curse. He may as well already be dead. In every way that matters, he is.

And if you don’t figure something out, it’s going to happen to you, too.

Some to do has been made about the world layout not making sense. Some say it’s bad design or development troubles leading to compromises. Others say it’s intentional, that time and space are warped, though I think that’s either not true here or done much better in DS3. I subscribe to a third camp I’ve seen a bit less frequently: These nonsensical ways you move between some of these places are because you forgot how you got from one place to the other.

“So you got to the top of the tower, then what?”

“Oh, then I got on an elevator, which took me up— up to… I was on an elevator… then I was in an old keep sinking into a lake of lava.”

You’re losing your mind and your memory, you just can’t remember what happened between Earthen Peak and Old Iron Keep.

So you go slay the old ones, find Vendrick, seek out the ancient dragon, defeat Nashandra and—

It doesn’t work. You don’t cure the curse. You can either take the throne, or keep looking for a cure. We don’t see what kind of monarch you are to your ruined kingdom if you stay. And we don’t see you find a cure to the curse if you leave.

You lose.

It’s left to you to decide, does continuing to fight this fate have meaning? Is the struggle, in and of itself, worthwhile?

Dark Souls 2 is about going Hollow, and I love that it goes in such a different direction with its lore and story to be that.

#dark souls 2 #also yeah I know about the crown you get for doing all the DLCs #I always saw that as a non-canon little bonus

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javierpena-inatacvest · 3 months ago

Text

A Little Longer

Summary: Frankie promises to give you what you ask for... but only if you can play by the rules of his game

Word Count: 2.4K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, established relationship)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), this is literally porn with no plot WHOOPS, cockwarming, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), cum eating, breeding kink (just really wanting to cum inside- no implications of wanting to get pregnant but use your imagination if you so choose because you know I will🙂 edging, overstimulation (if u squint), praise kink, size kink, feral Frankie, but also sweet soft baby boy Frankie 😭🥺

A/N: Ovulation demons are at it again!!! 🤠 Idk what to tell y'all, this came to me (quite literally whoops) and I couldn't rest until my thots were written down! I know Joel won the voting poll for this one, but honestly it just screams Frankie 😩 Everyone clap for Madeline as she writes something that isn't an explicit pregnancy breeding kink!!!!

Frankie was never the type of guy to spend his Sundays glued to the TV, watching whatever NFL game was on just for the sake of staying up to date on the sports world.

So when you found him in the living room, lounged and sprawled out across your couch with football on in the background, you were sure that now was just as good of a time as any to suggest you spend the rest of your lazy afternoon in a much more enjoyable way for the both of you.

"How much longer until the game is done?" You cooed, crawling into Frankie's lap, straddling your legs across his hips and tracing your fingers up and down the worn cotton of his t-shirt.

"'Bout halfway. Why?" Frankie smirked, the half hard bulge growing in his sweatpants revealing he knew damn well why you had asked.

"Because, I have a game I'd rather play that's much better than football." You teased, leaning down to trail soft kisses along his neck and jaw, subtly grinding your hips down into his.

"Yeah? and what game would that be, quierda?" Frankie's smirk only grew wider, lust pooling in the warmth of his brown eyes as his hands roamed to grope your ass, kneading the plump flesh in his grasp.

"My favorite game. The game where you put your dick inside me."

The two of you couldn't help but giggle despite the palpable tension brewing between you, a desperate and hungry need filling the air as Frankie's grip tightened, feeling you sink your weight over the full blown erection tenting his pants.

"That is a good game," Frankie chuckled, looking up at you with a concentrated furrow in his brow, seeing the gears turn in his mind as his eyes locked with yours. "I'll play. But-"

"But what, Frankie?" You asked, titling your head in confusion at his pause.

"But... We get to play by my rules."

At this point, Frankie's subtle smirk had shifted to a full blown devilish grin, leaving you wondering what kind of ideas he had managed to concoct in regards to your proposal.

"And what rules would those be, Franke?" You mewled, playing along as you traced your fingers along the edge of his waistband, tugging it down just enough to expose the happy trail running down the lower half of his stomach.

"I'll put my dick in you... But I'm not fucking you until the game is done."

You froze in your tracks, the unsure scrunch of your face acting as a silent ask to figure out if Frankie was being serious or not. The sudden shift in the tone of his voice now humming deep in his chest with a hungry desire, made it very clear that his suggestion was more than sure.

"If you want me to fuck you, rules are that you keep me inside you until the game is finished. But you can't move, can't touch yourself, and can't cum 'till I say."

You could already feel the slick starting to pool in the cotton of your underwear from anticipation and excitement, heart pulsing in your chest and cunt at the prospects of Frankie's idea. Because if there was one think Frankie knew about you, it was that you'd never turn down a challenge. And more importantly, you hated losing. So who would you be to deny him a chance to challenge him at his own game?

"You're on, Morales."

It had started off easy- sweet, even- Frankie spooning behind you, gently sliding his cock into your pussy, ass resting against his hips as your bodies melded together, snuggling on the couch.

He had even eased you into it, taking the first part of the 3rd quarter after half time had finished to stretch you out slowly, starting with just the tip notching between your folds and into your heat, sinking himself deeper inside you every few minutes to let you adjust to his size.

Even with how worked up you were, with half of Frankie's length now resting inside you, your confidence in making it another quarter and a half still abiding by Frankie's rules didn't seem too far out of reach.

But then again, you weren't expecting Frankie to play dirty, either.

Suddenly, Frankie was foregoing his subtle pace, trailing hot, wet kisses along your neck as he pushed himself fully inside you, filling you to the brim as his tip nestled against your cervix. A pathetic whimper escaped from your parted lips, catching your breath while your pussy pulsed around his length, feeling Frankie's smug grin pressed against your shoulder between his kisses.

"Oh f-fuck, Frankie!" You moaned, the sweet sting of his stretch already making your eyes roll to the back of your head, trying with everything in you to keep yourself composed.

"There ya go, princesa. Tight little pussy always takes me so well, doesn't she?" Frankie cooed almost mockingly, the hot breath of his words dancing against your skin between sucking at your pulse point. "Gotta relax, baby girl. Still have a ways to go before the game's over."

You took a long inhale in, glancing at the game clock in the bottom corner of the TV frame, finding the small box that read "3rd Quarter- 6:37" and doing some quick calculations in your head.

6 minutes left of this quarter and 15 minutes in the next. Plus game breaks and commercials? You could pull yourself together enough to make it through that without falling apart? Can't be that much longer, right?

For the average person watching football, you were right.

But to you, with Frankie's cock buried in your pussy, painstakingly teasing you to the point of near tears, you were convinced that you were watching the longest football game ever played in the history of mankind.

After sinking his full length to your hilt, Frankie had become relentless. It started off just like he had before, the intensity of his teasing amping up little by little with each minute that passed.

It began with the kisses on your neck, slowing trailing up and down your warm skin, whispering sweet praises into your ear. The tickle of the scratchy hairs from his beard making you shiver in delight, wishing it was buried between your legs, scratching the inside of your thighs as he ate you out instead of your neck.

Next, came his hands, palms that were once innocently splayed across your stomach now reaching under your shirt to palm at your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp, fingertips gently rolling your pebbled nipples, tweaking the hard buds with just enough pressure that his other hand was holding your hips firmly in place to keep you from grinding against him and taking any more than he gave you.

If both of those weren't enough, the final straw was when the hand lazily groping at your breasts snaked down your front, finding its way to your clit, puffy and aching from its time spent untouched while Frankie's cock lay stiff and full inside you.

At this point, you were absolutely soaked, every inch of your bottom half drenched in your arousal as you leaked around Frankie's length, the pads of his fingers sliding over your sensitive and slippery bundle of nerves with unspeakable ease. Even though he had barley but any pressure over your clit, just the ghosting of his fingertips was enough to make you sob, desperate to chase your high after what felt like hours of Frankie teasing you with his cock.

"Oh my god, F-frankie, fuck- please, baby. P-please touch me." You begged, pathetically whimpering as his fingers traced through your drenched folds, his strong grip holding your hips in place to keep you from pushing your ass deeper into his hips for some sort of relief.

"Shhhhhh, I know, baby. But you can't cum yet, remember? If I touch you, you gotta be a good girl and follow the rules of the game." Frankie smirked, teasing you as his fingers lazily collected your slick, purposefully circling them everywhere but your clit.

"I won't, I promise, p-please, Frankie. P-please."

Giving into your plea, Frankie dragged his fingers up your cunt, making you cry out as he finally began to rub slow circles against your throbbing bundle of nerves, the mix of temporary relief and painful ache to cum making you clamp down around Frankie's cock, wetness gushing from your core.

It was taking everything in you to fight the urge to collapse, biting down so hard on your lip you were convinced it might bleed as you felt the pleasure begin to build in you. Unfortunately for you, Frankie had spent enough time memorizing every twitch and tug of your body beneath his that he knew your tell tale signs, pulling his fingers away to the sounds of your ragged moans.

"Frankie, n-no, fuck- please, baby. I need more, pleasepleaseplease."

"Fuck, you're so pretty when you beg. I know, quierda, but not yet. There's still 4 minutes left in the game. 4 minutes left and then I'll fuck you. Fuck you with my tounge, my cock, I'll make you cum so many times you won't be able to walk straight. But not until this tight little pussy is so wet and ready for me that she can take everything I have to give."

With the way Frankie's filthy mouth was spewing, he might as well be fucking into you at full force, his words shooting straight to your core, fingers digging into your couch cushions for any sort of relief you could get.

"F-Frankieeeee-" His name was the only thing your mind could comprehend enough to get out, practically panting as the sheen of sweat began to dampen your forehead.

"You're doing so good for me, baby girl. I know you can take it." Frankie praised, scooping his hand under your jaw to turn your face towards him, cradling your cheeks in his grasp to force your lips to his, colliding mouths muffling the moans escaping from you.

You were practically drunk off pleasure at this point, trying your best to fight off a dizzying high as you watched the clock wind down at a painstaking pace, your heart skipping a beat as you saw the clock shift to count down from only one minute left.

"Less than a minute left, Hermosa. Think you can make it?" Frankie cooed, his fingers creeping back down to circle your clit, sending a jolt through your body as he rubbed at the slippery and soaked bundle of nerves.

The best you could do was nod your head, too far gone for any words as your cunt clamped tighter and tighter around him, so wet that you were more than positive you'd be cleaning stains of your puddles of slick out of your couch tomorrow.

Looking back at the TV, you were down to 12 seconds left, the winning team already celebrating their inevitable victory, hoping that it would be enough for Frankie to give in and finally fuck you.

"F-fuck me, Fransisco, please. Please, baby, wanna cum around your cock so bad." You whined at a pathetic pitch, pleading with Frankie to give you what you had been so desperate for.

You could hear the sigh of relief as the game clock finally wound down to :00, sensing an immediate shift in Frankie's demeanor as the game came to a close.

"Oh thank fuck this game is done." Frankie groaned, flipping you over onto your back and caging his body over yours, colliding your mouths in a messy dance of tongues and teeth.

While he may not have said it, Frankie was just as wound up as you, the warm and wet walls of your cunt soaking him for the better part of an hour driving him absolutely feral, using every ounce of self-restraint to keep from accepting defeat at his own game.

"Wanted to fuck you so bad, quierda. Do you know how hard it was not to give into you, baby? Not to hear those pretty moans and not fuck this perfect pussy. You did so good for me, so good that I'm gonna fuck you until you're begging me to stop. Gonna fill you up so full of me, I'll be dripping out of you for days."

Frankie sat back, throwing your legs over the width of his broad shoulders, leaning into you so that your thighs pressed against your stomach, stretching you open even further than you thought you could as he began to punch into you at a punishing pace.

His cock rammed against your g-spot, the sounds wet squelching from his length dragging in and out of your soaking heat, balls slapping against your ass and lewd moans had your living room sounding like it was straight out of a porn scene

"Fuckfuckfuck- Frankie- don't stop, baby. Don't stop." You sobbed, Frankie barley 10 strokes in before you could feel the coil in your belly beginning to tighten, so worked up from waiting for this moment that you were about to cum embarrassingly fast.

"Not gonna stop, hermosa. Lemme feel it, baby. Did so good for me. Cum all over my cock. Wanna feel you soak me. Wanna feel you before I fuck myself so deep inside of you."

“Ohmygod- oh Frankie, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It only took a few more strokes and the curly hairs at the base of his shaft rubbing against your clit to send you over the edge, your pent up orgasm crashing through you so hard, you were conviced that you were levitating in pure ecstasy. Every inch of your body was trembling with pleasure, gushing around Frankie’s cock as you came, your velvety walls choking his length as he relentlessly continued to fuck into you, ready to chase his own high.

“That’s my good girl. Let go, baby. Cum all over me. Fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good.” Frankie groaned, admiring you as you rode out your orgasm, jaw slack and mouth hanging open in a perfect “O”, your glossed over eyes and blissed out expression finding a way to drive him even more wild.

Reaching between your legs, Frankie’s fingers found your clit, making you cry out from how sensitive you still were, barely finished cumming before he was already on his way to doing it again.

“Frankie, it’s too- fuck- too much. Oh my god, shit-“ you sobbed, wrapping your fingers around his biceps, his muscles flexing in your grasp as you tried to brace yourself.

“I know you can take it, Hermosa. Need to give you one more. Please, let me give you one more.”

“I- fuck- I c-can’t.” But despite your half hearted protest, you and Frankie both knew that you were already half way to reaching your high again, coil in your stomach tightening with each punch against your g-spot and rub of his fingers on your throbbing bundle of nerves.

"You can, baby girl, I know you can. Can feel how close you are again- so fucking wet and tight, fuck- Give me one more and I'm gonna fill you so fucking full of me- watch my cum leak out of your tight little pussy 'till I can fuck it back into you again, keep you inside me for days." Frankie moaned, his pace now becoming more frantic and sloppy with each thrust, fighting with everything in him to keep from finishing before you did once more.

The combination of the feral thoughts that Frankie found himself spewing, along with the overwhelming and all consuming pleasure was all you needed to tip you over the edge again, this orgasm even more intense than the last. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, sobbing and crying out Frankie's name like a broken prayer, body practically going limp as pure bliss overtook you.

"Oh shit- Fuck, you're so good to me, quierda. Feels so fucking good. Fuck, I'm gonna cum too- mierda- give you everything I have, gonna-ahhhhh! Fuck!"

Just like that, Frankie was spilling inside you, hips stuttering with one final thrust as he painted your walls with hot, thick ropes of his spend, balls drawing up into his stomach while he milked himself of every last drop he had to give.

Through heavy breaths and gritted teeth, Frankie carefully pulled out his softening cock, sitting back on his heels to watch the mix of your spend begin to drip out of your hole, awestruck but the wet and shiny mess between your thighs, pussy puffy, swollen and leaking with him.

But for just as animalistic as it made Frankie to watch his cum seep out of your spent cunt, there was an even more primitive part of him that need to make sure that you stayed full of him, to mark his territory inside of you.

Shifting to lay on his stomach, Frankie kept your legs slung over his shoulders, pushing your thighs to your chest to spread you open, watching more of his seed dribble out of your pussy. With a satisfied groan rumbling deep in his chest, Frankie stuck out his tongue, swiping it up to collect the warm mixture of your arousal before pushing it back into your heat, gently fucking you with his mouth as you whined and writhed beneath him.

Once he was satisfied with his cum stuffed back inside you, Frankie couldn't help but look up at you with the most satisfied smirk spread across his face, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling up to trap your body beneath his, resting his weight on top of you with his head nestled between your breasts, big brown puppy dog eyes staring up at you.

"Are you okay, baby?" He cooed, reaching up to gently stroke your cheek, thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin. "It wasn't too much, was it?"

"No, it was amazing, Frankie." You smiled, reaching down to run your fingers through the messy curls of his sweat-ridden hair, heart swelling with how quickly Frankie had flipped the switch from assertive to soft and sweet. "We should watch football like that more often."

"Baby, if this is how you wanna watch football, I won't let us miss another fucking game the rest of this season."

Tag List: (Sorry if I tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!!)

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moonlight-records · 2 months ago

Text

Hole in one | LH44 & LN4

pairing: LH44 x Reader x LN4

summary: your boyfriends want to go golfing on a rarely non-busy day but your mind has other ideas seeing how hot your boyfriends are. luckily, you're not the only one who thinks golfing isn't the only hole in one today--

warning: age gap between lewis & partners, semi-threesome, dom/sub dynamics, mention of eating out, mention of sex, mention of overstimulation, semi-free use(?), cockwarming, blowjob, semi-public exhibitionism (aka car sex), mmf threesome sorta???, edging, facial, mention of medication.

fc: none!

a/n: I KNOW THE TITLE IS CHEESY. DOES IT MAKE SENSE?? IDK AND IDC. It's late and i used my brain power for the smut--don't look at me

wc: 4.1K

God, you were certain you were going to go straight to hell. Poor boys just wanted a nice bonding day and you were imagining their hands helping you get out of this golfing outfit.

The thought crossed your mind glancing between the two Brits who were currently standing by the golf tee happily talking while you looked between the two trying to figure out which one you wanted to take first.

First, Lando was in those black golf shorts and that stupid black wife beater. You had so much to look at that you didn’t where you wanted to focus on first. Between the vein that pops out of his neck when he swings to his hands that gripped the gold club the way you wish he would grip your hair to his muscles just on full display along with a gorgeous tan that would look so much better with marks from you. Your eyes kept linger up to that curly mullet he had just gotten and you wet your lips because damn it. That mullet was just coaxing you to run your fingers through and grab and yank. Maybe you could get a hold of that chain and—

There was some laughter as a darker male nudged Lando with his shoulder. Lewis was the polar opposite of Lando.

While Lando looked like he had just rolled out of bed ten minutes before his ride came, Lewis was dressed like he was always on the golf course. A cream (you think it’s cream anyway) woven short sleeve polo and green golfing pants. The pants fit Lewis in a way that you could clearly see a little bit more than typically bargained before. You learned that the hard way by hole 3 when you realized Lewis did not have his hands in his pocket and now at hole 11, you were disrespectfully staring at any chance you got. When you couldn’t, you took to staring at all the different tattoos that you could see on his arms and watching his muscles. What you wouldn’t give for those damn tatted biceps putting your head in a headlock.

God, what do people call this duo?

Pairs??

You squint when the rare sunlight is suddenly in your eyes before a figure steps to the side slightly to give you shade. The gentle swipe of a thumb across your bottom lip snaps you back into reality.

“Something distracting you, love?”

Your face flushes almost immediately when Lando speaks to you. You avert your eyes while clearing your throat before letting out a soft noise of surprise when Lando lets his hand slip just underneath your jaw and forces your head up just an inch higher. You look back at him and blink because wow. The guys were right. You really did just need a few touches from either of them to turn into a mess.

“Sweetheart,” Lando murmurs while leaning down, “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

“Yeah..”

“You haven’t answered me. You know I don’t like repeating myself but you are just too cute like this so I’ll ask one more time. Is there something distracting you, love?”

“Oh!” You start, “Oh no—not really—” you ramble out and sit up a bit straighter when Lando sits next to you in the golf cart, resting an elbow on the steering wheel as his hand moves back to his chin, swiping his thumb on your lower lip, “just thinking about…things,” you murmur while nodding, more so trying to convince yourself then Lando, “that’s all.”

“What were you thinking about?” He smirks.

You squirm slightly under his gaze while glancing at Lando before letting your gaze drift around. Nobody else was around, which wasn’t a surprise considering you and your boyfriends decided to go golfing only an hour after the rain stopped even though the clouds still hung around, the sun was coming out. At least Lewis was kind enough to tip the workers very well as a thank you. Speaking of, your gaze lands on Lewis who is still by the golf tee, texting someone intensely which means Lewis is distracted.

Glancing back, you’re met with sea green eyes that meet your gaze. There’s a dark fire burning in them that you know screams lustful trouble. You knew better than to give into this temptation. You were in public for christ sake and the last thing you wanted was to get in trouble but you’ve been dying to get your hands on his mullet and it’s right here.

Trouble be damned, you slide closer to Lando, letting a hand make its way around his neck and you start to run your fingers carefully through his curly mullet. You gently scratch his neck as Lando rests his head on your shoulder. You gasp silently when warm lips brush against your neck teasingly. You bite your bottom lip harshly feeling Lando nip at your neck to stay quiet as you press your thighs together. You yank his hair slightly feeling his hand slide between your thighs.

“Lando,” You murmur as a warning trying to close your legs.

“Shhh,” Lando murmurs in your ear. You shiver hearing that stupid smirk in his words as a finger traces the waistband of your skirt on your skin shifting so one of his legs caught yours and forced your legs open for him. You whine softly as his hand starts to slip under the waistband.

You gasp when Lando’s head is yanked back and your eyes flick up to Lewis, standing behind Lando while holding his head back to look up at the older Brit. Lewis is looking down at Lando before his gaze finally makes it over to you and he raises a brow, “what do we have, here?” Lewis asks.

You stare at the older male then at Lando because you have two options. You can either go down with the ship or save yourself. Typically, you’d probably go down with Lando but you were still recovering from two nights ago when you and Lando decided to send Lewis some rather risky photos while he was at the factory. The memory of being being sat in Lewis lap having orgasm after orgasm from Lando, who was on his knee for that entire time eating you out and that was about a good…two hours before Lewis had showed you some mercy by letting you lay on the couch while Lewis had Lando bent over the coffee table an apologizing mess.

“I tried to warn him.” You admit to Lewis.

“Y/N!” Lando manages before he groans slightly when Lewis tugs his hair a bit more while Lewis leans over him, "Sorry,” Lando breaths out.

Lewis shakes his head while looking down at him, “you just love to cause trouble don’t you, you fucking brat,” Lewis smirks at Lando’s feigned innocent smile. He looks at you and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up. “Meanwhile, Y/N over here is being such a little angel for me.”

“She is not,” Lando breathes out, “She was enjoying it more than what she’s leading on.”

Lewis hums softly and thinks it over, “Well, I’m not too sure about that. I did interrupt before anything fun could happen, but.” Lewis leans down, “it seems that out of the two of you, you typically are the one that initiates trouble and y/n has such a pure heart to not let you get punished on your own. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You bit your bottom lip gently while nodding in agreement, “That’s right.”

“See? She’s so kind,” Lewis praises as he leans over to give you a peck, “unlike a certain brat.”

“Well, someone has to keep things lively,” Lando muses, “Besides I never hear either of you complain.”

“You’re right, we don’t complain,” Lewis starts, “we love it very much but sometimes, we just want an easy and I just want you to behave for me. Like today, it was supposed to be an easy day with golfing and cuddling but now I have to punish you for misbehaving.” Lewis shakes his head softly, “what am I going to do with you?” Lewis hums looking between the two of you and grins, “I know exactly what to do.”

It was a miracle that the golf cart made it back to its area in one piece. Even though it only went up to 20 miles per hour Lewis made it feel like it was going much faster with how determined he was to get the three of you off the course after telling Lewis your idea. Lando was growing more excitedly anxious while you sat between the two of them, curious to see what is suppose to happen.Lewis had given you the keys to the Mercedes, telling you and Lando to head over early as he wrapped up and you happily obliged with Lando giving Lewis a mock salute and following.

“Lando,” you start when you two are close to the car when Lando is pressing against your back, kissing his neck. Lando murmurs something into your skin as you tilt your head to give Lando better access as you unlock the car. You get the back door open before you yelp when Lando gives a sharp slap to your ass, whipping around, “Lando!”

“What?” He feigns innocence as he pulls you close by your hips. He lets his hands travel down to your ass to gently rub soothing circles where he slapped before grabbing your ass, “Am I supposed to just stare? Can’t touch it now?”

You giggle softly while wrapping your arms around his neck. You let Lando back you up to the car as you hum softly, “I suppose that wouldn’t be fair.”

Lando grins before leaning down and catching your lips in a kiss. You let a hand find its way back into the mullet as Lando tilts your head, deepening the kiss. You moan softly which gives Lando a chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He stumbles you backwards, breaking the kiss to help you into the back seat before climbing in after you. He shuts the door but something stops it and Lando whips his head around to see Lewis holding the door handle. “Oh,” he says breathlessly and laughs, “Lew. Jesus.”

“Sorry,” Lewis chuckles sheepishly, “didn’t have the heart to interrupt the show.”

You giggle softly while scooting over so Lewis could climb in. Once he was in, you comfortably sat back in your corner watching Lewis pull Lando into a searing kiss by the back of his neck. You fanned yourself watching because it should not be as hot as it was watching Lando just crumble under Lewis’ touch slowly but surely. When they finally pulled away to catch their breath, you didn’t even want to join in. You were much happier just sitting in your corner watching Lando turn into a mess as the curly hair driver was now straddling Lewis, kissing and nipping at his neck for more attention.

You lock eyes with Lewis and he just nods his head slightly. You immediately crawl over and Lando lets out a huff when Lewis shifts him to straddle one thigh while you straddle the other. You’re cupping Lewis’ face and kissing him stupid. You pull back before slinking off of Lewis thigh.

You and Lewis work together to get into position. Lewis manages to turn Lando before having him sit in Lewis' lap. While Lewis pulls Lando’s into another kiss, you move yourself to the floor. It’s a bit tighter than you anticipated but you made it work. You glance up, seeing Lando’s with his head back on Lewis shoulder gasping and whining. Lewis was murmuring in his ear while one hand was up Lando’s shirt playing with his nipples while the other was loosely messing with Lando’s belt. He glances down when you gently push Lewis’ hand away from Lando’s belt before undoing it.

You stick your tongue out as you fiddle with the belt while Lando squirms above. You huff before smacking his inner thigh gently causing him to yelp out of shock, “stop moving!” You tell him as you get the belt undone before undoing Lando’s shorts.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You ask.

“Could you do me a big favor?” Lewis asks, “could you go into the glove compartment and grab me the travel lube? Please?”

“Of course!” You take a hot minute to turn so your back is to your boyfriends and lean over the counsel and just get the glove compartment open. You shift to lean a bit more as you dig through, listening to the sound of kisses and soft gasps and whines. “Oh, was someone eager?” You hear Lewis behind you, “Was a good enough boy to at least your butt plug.” You put your lips together tightly as if you were eating a lemon to keep from laughing out loud as Lando just murmurs something before he groans out in pleasure before he tries to quiet himself.

“Found it!” You announce happily as you lean back offering the travel lube to Lewis. The second that it’s out of your hand you’re leaning forward to close the glove compartment while behind you Lewis and Lando shuffled around before Lando . When you turn around, Lando is now sitting in Lewis’ lap. He was panting slightly his back against Lewis chest, shorts and boxers now pulled down, face flushed.

“Ah, there we go,” Lewis purrs while hooking his chin on Lando’s shoulder. You watch Lewis’s hands moving down to stroke Lando’s cock, making you kneel right there as he does so, “You’re very pretty as a brat,” Lewis whispers but besides Lando’s gasps and whines, you can hear Lewis, “but you’re much prettier when you’re like this.” Lando manages out a breathless “Yes sir,” while gripping Lewis’ arm like a lifeline.

Lewis drags his teeth against Lando’s neck, finally biting a mark on his pretty skin (which you’re jealous of since you’ve been wanting to do that all day) but you’re getting more flustered while looking semi-embarrassed, turning as red as Ferrari’s suit and ducking your head. But Lewis is quick to snap his fingers and motions for you to rest his head against Lando's bare thigh while he works. You hesitate but do what is asked with Lewis praising you, "just keep looking here baby. Don't look away from how pretty Lando's being for you,” and Lewis goes back to working Lando up. "See? Look at how well behaved Y/N is? You see what happens when you behave? You get rewarded. We should probably do something to reward her...right?"

You watch Lando swallow a strangle cry probably because the three of you were in a mainly empty parking lot and currently doing—this. You see Lewis use his free hand to slip up Lando’s shirt to grab his chin, forcing the younger Brit to look at him, “Well? Do you think Y/N deserves a reward?” “I—mm yeah,” Lando manages out, “but I thought—”

“Oh trust me. I didn’t forget about you.” Lewis grins and kisses him, “you are going to sit here on my cock so pretty for me while Y/N enjoys her reward and let us just use you how we see fit, is that okay?” Grabbing his jaw a bit harsher, “and the only time you can cum is when I decide. Understood?”

Lando whines but nods. “I—yes sir,” Lando says softly while digging his nails a bit more into Lewis' skin, “I understand.” Lewis hisses feeling Lando digging into his arm. In return, Lewis leans down to nip at Lando’s neck, leaving another mark while rolling his hips up. Lando arches his back and moans loudly, squirming slightly. “Oh fuck—”

Lando completely ignores the reaction he pulls from the younger driver while using his free hand to brush your cheek. He shifts a little further forward and ushers you up. "Come on, you’ve earned a reward for being so good and not following this brat’s lead for trouble. Go on," He urges, nodding his head before you get the picture. You look up at Lewis and Lando before adjusting your kneeling position the best you can.Then you duck your head and wrap your lips around Lando’s cock, replacing Lewis’ hand. Immediately, you hollow your cheeks out when you start sucking the other off.

“Such good sweethearts, both of you,” Lewis says above directed at both of you. You can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks and neck as your lips stretch over the girth of Lando’s cock. It earns a strangled cry from Lando as Lewis speaks. "Fuck you two are just too pretty," he moans, rolling his hips up into Lando, earning another gasp and moan as Lando bucks his hips forward slightly. It causes you to choke on Lando briefly and when you pull back, there's a string of spit connecting your lips to Lando still. “Oh are you okay sweetheart?” Lewis purrs softly, “Lando isn’t being rude, right?”

“No, no he’s not being rude. Just, surprised was all,” you admit.

“Well, why don’t you take a bit of a break?”

You blink and nod slightly as you lean back, panting softly. You press your thighs together when you’re reminded just how strong these drivers are as you watch Lewis grab Lando’s hips hard enough to lease bruises before Lewis is practically using Lando as a toy. You watch Lewis manage to pick Lando up before slamming him down. Lando’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he grips onto Lewis, doing exactly what he was told. Sitting there, looking pretty, and letting you two use him however you two saw fit.

Really this shouldn't be turning you on as much as it is, but it is. Lewis is really hot when he gets all commanding like this, switching off from fucking Lando senseless to you sucking Lando off while Lando is being pampered and gets the praises he deserves and looks so sexy as he’s begging Lewis to show him any mercy and - you stick your tongue on the underside the younger drivers's cock, swallowing him down even more, some of your hair falling in your face when Lewis gently guides your head back dow. You know that your jaw is probably going to be sore tomorrow and you probably won’t be able to get in this car for a bit without getting flustered but you do not care right now when your boyfriends are being this hot right now.

"Look at her, Lan," Lewis breathes when he sees you giving into the job, "look at how much she's loving this,” you glance up seeing Lewis pampering Lando in kisses. Lando was breathing heavily, face and chest flushed. Hair stuck to his forehead from sweat while his cheeks were slick with both sweat and tears. His eyes are slightly red and glassy but he seems so gone in subspace. Lando almost sobs when you deep throat him, burying his face in Lewis neck as his hands fly to your hair to find purchase, holding onto your hair as you start bobbing your head again, randomly deep throating him to keep things interesting.

Pulling off, you pant while looking up, biting your bottom lip as you smile when Lewis strokes your cheek, “Oh, what a good little slut for you’re being - and only for us.” Lewis starts, “You think it’s time for Lando to have mercy?” You look your other boyfriend over and nod. “Okay. Well, how do you want him? Down your throat or all over your face? Tell me what you want."

Your brain short circuits because you swore that Lewis was going to make this decision, not you. This feels like a big decision and you aren’t really sure what to pick as you squirm in your spot, “I—um,” you start before Lewis is grabbing your hair and guiding you to look up at him a bit harshly, "Y/N," Lewis warns, "you have to use your words. Or we will stop and I will fuck Lando silly in the backseat and neither of you will get off. You understand me, don’t you? Tell me what you want."

You let your mouth fall open before closing your mouth and swallowing the lump in your throat. As much as you would love to see your boyfriends have sex, the idea of not getting off was the only thing that made the idea slightly unappealing. This was your reward so you found it a bit rude that you were now in the position where you couldn’t properly enjoy it. “I k—I understand sir,” you correct yourself swiftly, “I—” might as well go big since you’re already here giving a blowjob in a car, “I want Lando to come on my face, please.”

“Such a pretty slut,” Lewis whispers to you while gently pulling you up closer to him. You shift before he pulls you in into a kiss so searing that neither of you remember how long it lasts but he knows when it's done, he has both you and him gasping for air. “Whatever our princess wants is what she gets. He murmurs, “Now why don’t you sit back.” You nod quickly as you sit back. Lewis makes Lando look and he groans seeing the state you were in and you could only imagine how you looked. Lips swollen and red, cheeks flushed, eyes glossy. Lando tries to look away but Lewis catches his chin and forces him to look while his other hand replaces your lips and starts to stroke Land again. "Come on baby," he goads, moving them closer, angling them so his cock is pointed right at your face. "Give her what she wants. Paint his pretty whore face," he growls, the slick making an obscene noise. "Y/N, open your fucking mouth and stick our your tongue," he commands, voice rough. Your eyes widen for a second but you also follow that command, hands resting on Lando's knees and opening his mouth, waiting patiently. "See love?" Lewis whispers, pressing his lips to Lando's temple. "See how good she's being? Now be good for us and come over Y/N's face, yeah? Paint it for us."

Lando is so overstimulated between Y/N and Lewis that he can’t even remember his own name right now. He whines loudly when Lewis shifts slightly to kiss Y/N, feeling Lewis shift inside him and god if he didn’t get to finish soon, he was going to become the worst possible person for Lewis to handle. He groans loudly, melting into Lewis chest while jerking his hips into Lewis hand, eyes closed and head tipped back. He forces his head up to look at you and he lets out a strangled noise because oh fuck. You should not look this gorgeous right now with your tongue out and eyes on him. "Uh huh," Lando manages because it’s all he can muster.

There’s no warning. No heads up. Not even a single noise. Lando’s orgasm hits him hard and fast and unsuspectingly that Lando just lets his mouth fall open silently as he arches his back, legs shaking, and eyes rolling into the back of his head. Lewis is murmuring praises while running his free hand through Lando’s hair while you get a second to close your eyes because the last thing you want is seamen in the eye. You open your eyes when Lewis gently coaxes you to. Both Lando and Lewis moan softly seeing the absolute mess Lando made of your face. You blush slightly before you close your mouth and swallow whatever made it onto your tongue before sticking your tongue out again.

“Such a good princess for us,” Lewis praises, “did you enjoy your reward?”

“I did.”

“Did someone learn why they need to behave?” Lewis asks.

Lando hums while slumped against Lewis' chest, “yeah,” he murmurs, “I did. Not going to change anything.”

“We wouldn’t want it any other way,” you giggle and Lewis laughs.

“Okay baby,” Lewis rubs Lando’s back, “think you’d be good sitting for a bit while Y/N and I finish up?”

Lando groans softly and whines, “noooo,” he starts. “Just–five minutes?” Lando asks.

You sit next to Lewis and giggles softly while kissing Lando’s other temple, “sure baby. I can wait five minutes. I’m not in a rush. Babe?”

“I can manage waiting five minutes,” Lewis smiles as you and Lewis happily smother Lando into kisses. That is until Lando becomes a bit more coherent and stupidly says,

“You know this is the first time I lasted more than 10 minutes off my meds…oh my god. It’s like–a hole in one–”

“BOOOOOO.”

“Lando, that was horrible–”

“GOD FORBID I SPEAK THE TRUTH–”

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velvetures · 1 year ago

Text

Honorifics

A/N: Yeah... I don't know about this. I'll probably take it down since I'm unsure if it's got enough of a consistent vibe. Let me know if it's actually something you enjoy since I don't write angst or hurt/comfort often. I ALWAYS WRITE HAPPY ENDINGS THO. That's a damn promise. Summary: You've given Ghost a title he hates, and takes it out on you. The situation goes too far, and you're both left trying to figure it out. Reader is nicknamed "Brass" since she's a long-distance shooter/sniper. T/W: angst, cursing, Ghost being an emotionally unstable human, yelling, the reader having a breakdown, smidge of not eating, smidge of not drinking anything, comfort, feelings, female reader, not proofread.

When you joined the task force, things didn’t exactly go as smoothly as you had hoped it would. Training sessions usually ended up with you either getting your ass beat or nearly surviving a full-on embarrassment by the skin of your teeth just to be told that you still weren’t in good enough shape to keep up with them in the field. Surely being a woman didn’t excuse you from being in shape for the kind of work Laswell and Price had brought you in for, but damn if it wasn’t difficult to try and have a one-on-one fight with someone like Soap or Ghost without the benefit you would typically have in a real-world battle situation. The reality that all of the men in the squad were literally the best of the best aside, there could be just barely enough room for you to compete on the same level when it came to sheer physical strength. While that wasn’t your specialty anyway, the Captain made it clear you needed to prove you could handle your own against serious physical fights without assistance. After nearly five weeks of having one of your squad mates slam you on your ass one too many times in the training hall, you finally were able to prove to Price that you could go out in the field and he didn’t have to extend any extra worries for your ability to survive.

Logistically as a sniper, it meant you frequently held a much more distant role in missions. By watching from a scope you could ensure that infiltrations, covert ops, and other hush-hush kinds of operations that typically the 141 wouldn’t have the luxury of. Being the skilled marksman you were, it made sense to take advantage of your talents and also extend you a job that progressed past what you’d experienced in your “standard” military career and multiple tours overseas. However, that meant communications were essentially the backbone of your usefulness aside from your rifle. Next to nothing else, your daily and mission-based work almost exclusively went through Lieutenant Ghost. Which… often proved to be the largest obstacle that you faced aside from making sure that your scope didn’t get bumped off sight the -often- rough flights and drives to insertion points.

The Lieutenant was particularly mean… he certainly didn’t give a single thought to if anyone thought that he was a little too harsh of a personality to swallow. That went for everything you came to learn about Ghost. From his lack of willingness to speak unless required of him, to his unique ability of appearing and disappearing from anywhere without the slightest sound or hint of where he’d come from or gone to. Trained as a distance marksman, even you were impressed that such a massive man could move around like smoke on water. That and his physical appearance; good god above. Surely a man like Ghost had never graced the face of the Earth before, else he’d have been just as mythical in his legendary life and would’ve been known by thousands of people. He stood towering over just about everyone, in whatever room he was in, and compared to your own height it was downright laughable the difference between the two of you as operators.

The one thing that made the biggest impression on you after meeting the Lieutenant was his voice and how he spoke. That thick accent always sounded rough and a little gritty. His deep timbre gave such a commanding authority that if given the choice between getting yelled at by Captain Price or Ghost… there was no choice you’d sit for hours listening to Price threaten you over Ghost. He just sounded so scary and attractive all at the same time. Unsurprisingly, it developed into a subconscious dynamic where you saw Ghost as such a superior officer -and human- that no matter how much you liked to daydream about Ghost in less-than-professional situations… You gave him the utmost respect at all times. Easiest of all to recognize was that from day one, you had never addressed Ghost to his face as anything other than ‘sir’. Not even his rank gave enough nuance to his character and presence, so for you, Ghost was inextricably attached to the name.

Ghost however… didn’t like it.

Such a simple address actually made Ghost grit his teeth beneath the shield of his mask. When he heard you call him that, he automatically related it to how he had called General Shepherd ‘sir’ as a subtle sign of mockery and defiance. Thinking about that made him more than necessarily angry and confused, but he couldn’t really accuse you of having ever been given much of a reason to detest him. Therefore, he had to come to the conclusion that you were doing it out of some kind of respect that a drill sergeant or boot camp instructor had bashed into your brain so hard that it stuck permanently. Not surprising since you were much different from the rest of the task force. Yet he had to revise that after the first six months of you being with them permanently. You had gotten settled in. Enough so that you called the Captain, ‘Cap’… Soap, ‘Johnny’… and Garrick, ‘Gaz’ like everyone else did. Exceptionalities only appeared when it came time for you to be around him or have any sort of interaction that wasn’t the occasional silent nod of acknowledgment when walking past each other in the hallways.

He honestly tried to ignore it and you altogether for that matter in an attempt to keep his bitter anger at a minimum. Seeing such a small and fucking happy woman always lingering around somewhere in the corners of his sight couldn’t be anything but a distraction waiting to happen. A bad habit that he didn’t have the mental capacity or emotional willingness to take on. Fuck… he already had to worry about the 141 as a whole, to begin with. Now you on top of that? It was more responsibility than he’d signed up for initially. Hearing you call him ‘sir’ day in and day out began to take its toll on his self-control. Ghost needed to either find out why you were hellbent on calling him that, or at least be enough of a bastard to you to be reassured that you did it because you wanted a polite way to tell him to shove it up his ass sideways.

The Lieutenant had been being nothing short of a prick in the last few months.

He was making paperwork back at HQ a nightmare that couldn’t be solved alternatively through someone like Gaz or Soap who often didn’t mind playing the part of the unbiased third party. Refusing to sign things when you stopped by his office, outright ignoring your necessary questions, and stonewalling you at every single stop along the way just to yield at the last moment and do everything you’d been asking for so the both of you wouldn’t face heat from any higher-ups. That alone was enough for you to consider talking to Soap privately since he knew Ghost the best… but you’d kept putting it off hoping that it was just a passing phase of shitty attitude.

Your patience and emotional strength fell through the floor after attempting for the third time in a week after something so fucking simple as trying to get his approval and official signature on a post-mission report Price had delegated to you after being called to Washington D.C. for a meeting. It wasn’t a major task, but knowing that the Captain had given you the responsibility first over anyone else made you want to impress him and take care of business without incident. God forbid you do something as simple as ask Ghost to pick up a pen and scribble his name at the bottom of a page so that you could send it on through the higher-up channels. It resulted in the Lieutenant straight-up yelling at you in the middle of the hallway outside his office when he’d found you standing there patiently waiting for him to show up. He wasn’t threatening physically, but it cut much deeper into your pride and feelings than it should have.

With every word that dripped venomously out of his masked mouth, you lost a little extra peace of mind on having such an untouchable and unshakably good opinion of Ghost for so long. This moment of undeserved verbal punishment was enough to make the corners of your eyes burn with inner disgrace, self-doubt, and plain old sadness which motivated you to get the hell out of there before the Lieutenant saw you cry. When you turned your back and walked away right in the middle of his berating for you being “too fucking annoying to tolerate”, your only destination was your personal quarters on the other end of the building where a lock on the door could shut out the entire base for as long as you saw fit. Upon the first estimation, it would be after Captain Price returned so that you could have at least one single chance at not getting a second punishment or dismissal from the squad. The sound of your door slamming shut and your back sliding down against it on your way down to the floor silenced the entire room around you, leaving just enough room for the papers clenched to your chest to flutter onto the ground and your weak cries to sounds amplified.

It was hours before you could drag yourself off the floor and into bed, too tired and wanting to fall back on the trained and instinctual desire to hide away somewhere isolated and not move for hours on end. Being a long-distance marksman gave you the talent of patience insurmountable to the average person, allowing days to pass by without you needing to do more than go to the bathroom before coming right back to a motionless position. That’s what you wanted tonight. You needed to focus all of your energy into your brain alone and use it to sort through the hurt burning through your eyes and throat, and the questioning that gave such a sickening feeling a chance root in your stomach. Questions of if it had been foolish to trust Ghost as much as you did the others, knowing how you’d been warned that he would be difficult to work with. Hoping you hadn’t been truly so ignorant of judging behavior to think that the Lieutenant was something much greater than his behavior had been not only today but for the past months.

The next two days were spent laying near motionless… not hungry or thirsty.

Just thinking, sleeping, and staring at the wall across from your bed.

A solid knock on your door was the first human sound that hadn’t been made by you in over forty-eight hours. You’d not looked at your phone or any communications since locking yourself inside, and there was a good chance someone from the squad had come searching for you after such a long period without seeing or hearing from you. When you refused to answer right away, another harder knock banged on the door twice and rattled the steel in its doorframe. Impatient. Testy. Quite familiar with everything you’ve been through lately. Recognizing the Lieutenant was the one outside made your gut churn all over again. Questioning whether to get up or not wasn’t hard. Laying perfectly still in bed, you waited. If you were being honest though, it’d been a long time since you’d spent so long restricting yourself from basic needs for the purpose of acting like a living phantom. Close to three years since any sniper position had left you utterly abandoned without resources. Only this time it was self-induced and nothing short of a trauma response you wanted to hide away from. Truthfully you couldn’t tell if walking to the door was an easy feat or not. After not drinking anything, using the bathroom wasn’t necessary and the last time you’d stood up didn’t cross your memory clearly.

Ghost slammed his fist against the door again one last time. But he didn’t wait long enough for you to answer before rattling the handle to the door with a heavy sigh that was audible through the cracks separating you. Metal on metal gritted softly and moved the door handle a bit further. Recognizing that as nothing short of Ghost picking the lock to your quarters without the slightest care of how he’d be breaking multiple stipulations laid out for them living in HQ. Either your physical or mental state kept you from giving a damn when the handle gave way fully, leaving a bright fluorescence light flooding in from the hallway into your pitch-black room. It made your eyes water and the urge to turn your head away was strong enough to budge your head into the blankets and pillow surrounding. Heavy boots made the paperwork scattered on the floor crunch softly and the sound of his deep breaths gave away his current state of frustration. Clearly not appreciating being locked out of a room that he had no fucking business being in. A long pause led to shuffling around, and the sound of your desk chair creaking under his weight.

“Gonna say somethin’?” He sounded no less irritated than the last time you’d spoken.

It made your throat burn to even think you’d allowed his to get in your head so deeply just to utterly rip every last bit of security and respect away from you for no damn reason. Your silence made quite the statement, even if the actual task of speaking hadn’t been a totally voluntary one. You’d not moved your jaw in days at this point.

“You’ve missed five drill sessions, two mandatory meetings, and one phone from General Shepherd.”

Listing off your offenses hardly bothered you. The consequences of this had been fully accepted days ago, and Ghost would have to do a lot more to get you up from this bed. You’d trained for hell, and no matter how badly Ghost had ruined your almost loving and patient view of him there weren’t enough men on the planet to make you get up voluntarily. Drastic… yes. Satisfying to your own pride… undoubtedly. When you didn’t even let out a single breath loud enough for Ghost to hear instead of that instant apology or willingness to appease him… please him even, with that little quip of ‘sir’ ready on your tongue, the Lieutenant was up out of that chair so quickly you heard it roll into the wall behind him hard enough to thud against the drywall.

“Goddamn it Brass, I demand a fuckin’ answer!” His loud bark caught your attention, but the feeling of your blankets being ripped off your body was a far more startling sensation.

Baring you to the cold air of the room, all your body managed was to raise chills on your skin in a feeble attempt to keep you warm or alert you to seek out that heat again. Tension exploded into shocked silence when Ghost didn’t utter more than a sharp inhale after getting one, shadowed glimpse of your body totally frozen on your stomach. You knew it couldn’t look great. Snipers could come back looking like skeletons sometimes after a long mission if they were given the orders to stay put. You’d not been laying nearly long enough for that to be the case, but dehydration was certainly a symptom you were ignoring quite easily, as well as the possibility of some minor pressure ulcers that would linger for a few weeks if you didn’t move soon. Ghost wasn’t as familiar with the sight of how you felt internally. Snipers weren’t commonly used or in collaboration with Task Force 141. You’d been their first real look at how the inner workings moved or didn’t, and much of your personal way of doing things had dispelled or blown away any misguided assumptions they’d made about your skills early on. Viewing a sniper after days of doing literally nothing, of her own free will…? That wasn’t healthy or accepted in general military companies. Lucky Ghost got the front-row seat though.

When you heard his movement next to you, weight pressed down the mattress at your side in the shape of his hands, and a low sigh registered.

“Brass…” Failing to even say something, you wondered if your own assessment of yourself wasn’t accurate. “It’s been five days.” His faltered tone was truthful, and it destroyed your semblance of time that had been misled by the absence of sunlight coming in through your room.

You thought about trying to say something, resolve falling flat when swallowing felt difficult. A gloved hand rested against your thigh and Ghost almost growled again, sounding a lot more like he was resisting the urge to squeeze you hard. Only his fingers traced along your hip and over the curve in your waist with a tense and heavy swallow. He was being gentle beyond your concept of his depth of emotion and understanding. Nearly loving as he paused over your ribcage with another pinched sort of sound. Staying like that for what felt like hours, you struggled to keep yourself awake. It had been a struggle to move your tongue in your mouth, testing what mobility you’d lost in the short term. Only Ghost wasn’t leaving like you expected, and suddenly his voice returned it its normal stature.

“This’s Ghost. Get a bay ready now, I’m bringin’ someone in.” The reverb of his voice crackled in a radio you knew hooked to his vest. A backup short-range alternative in the case that SAT couldn’t be established or wasn’t clear enough to rely on in the field. Apparently, he used it to keep in contact with someone on base. Or multiple people for all you knew.

“Copy Ghost.” A static voice could be heard and quickly the room was pitched back into a silence you wanted to remain in, but Ghost was adamant to keep infracting alone with a whole list of other rules that, for whatever reason, just didn’t fucking matter or apply to him.

His other hand searched around the dark until he found your face resting amongst the fabric of your bed, curling his hand around your head and meticulously lifting you so very slowly away from the bed with his other arm steadying your legs that had also been taken up off the mattress. You’d never touched Ghost once in all the time you’d known him. Understanding that with his sour attitude, there couldn’t be a single chance in Hell that touching him was an acceptable action. Whereas with Soap, Gaz, and even on occasion Price: hugs, handshakes, shoves, and other physical touches were common, Ghost totally ignored all human contact. Maybe Hell had frozen over outside of your quarters for your weak and still motionless body to be lifted up against the Lieutenant’s chest and carried preciously outside of your room into the burning light of HQ. His chest heaved deep and quickly against you. Both hands curled around you and flexed tighter each time you were able to hear another set of shoes approaching closer to you. Possessive like a soldier. Silent like a Ghost. Determined.

He takes you straight to the medical hall where three nurses and two of the on-shift doctors are fast to respond to your condition. Only Ghost refuses to let them take you away from him for any reason. Stoically stonewalling them just like he habitually did to you as they begged him to lay you down on a transport bed so they could take you back to a room for assessment. The Lieutenant took you there himself, with the group of nurses and doctors hot on his heels and surrounding your bed once Ghost had you settled down inside a private room.

The whole place smells sterile and like alcohol. It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but these are far different circumstances. You’re still too sensitive to open your eyes, but hands are all over your body, gloves fingers touching around the sore places on weight-bearing points on your body, pricks in your fingertips, and a needle poke to the back of your hand. It’s overstimulating, to say the least, and you’re worried they’re going to think you’ve tried to starve yourself to death or decided that living altogether wasn’t worth it and simply wasting away into your bed was the solution. Right away, one of the voices of the medical professionals breaks that worry in your mind by calling for some of the tests to be staggered, needing time between them for nothing other than your own benefit.

“Treat this no differently than prolonged active reconnaissance,” The female voice states softly. “Being on-the-gun for this long is detrimental to all senses, and she’s going to need a while to wake up in a meaningful way.” She added, voice coming clearer the closer she got to your head.

“You’ve been working very hard, I suspect. Maybe not in the field… but you’re one tough lady.” She commented to you quite personally, her hand falling to your shoulders. “We’re going to get you plenty of fluids and start you on a vitamin drip to get everything running as it should again. You’ve also got some slight bedsores, but as long as we take care of them now, you’ll be right as rain soon, sniper.”

Tests were run, treatments began, and nurse after nurse was brought in with both doctors running rotations in and out of your room for the rest of the night. All of them were under the hard watch of Ghost who’d not moved from his position sitting in the corner of your room where he could see not only you but anyone approaching the door. He’d been very quiet throughout the process, watching and waiting for someone to give him some news about your condition with actual certainty. Stewing over the guilt he felt knowing damn well he was the reason you’d shut down so far and were still unable -or unwilling- to come out of it yet. You’d been nothing but the perfect little woman, doing her job with skill and grace, making everyone around you happier just with one glance in your direction. But fuck, he couldn’t stand seeing someone do the callous profession of killing people with one single squeeze of her finger and still have so much innocent and emotional humanity inside such a small body. Ghost couldn’t wrap his mind around it. So instead of trying to do the right thing and figure it out, he did what a man so out of touch with empathy did: Try to snuff it out.

You threatened him whether you or he realized it in the beginning.

But now he could see it with that crystal fucking clear hindsight. How monstrous he was for punishing you with no foundation other than his own selfish fear of seeing a dynamic he didn’t know was possibly wrapped up inside of you. Sweet and little you, never saying anything to him other than a ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir’. Goddamnit Ghost knew he’d nearly killed you in a way. Seeing days of neglect in your sallow expression, darkened under eyes, and weakened body was more than even his cold heart could take all at one time. Wasting away for someone as useless as himself, all because he’d never given you enough credit for finding something worth liking in him where no one else had. Screaming at you. Cursing your existence. Right in your face, while he’d been too big of a pussy to even take off his own mask he hid behind every day as he utterly destroyed your meaningful position and life working alongside of his and his squad. Owing you his life wouldn’t nearly cover his offenses. Laughably, Ghost admitted his own life or death couldn’t measure up to yours. So instead of saying any kind of bullshit apology, he sat in the corner of your room and denied himself sleep, food, and water because there wasn’t anything else he could do until you’d been considered healthy and strong again.

Almost one week to the day you had been signed off for return to duty with zero restrictions. Your physical and mental evaluations came back clean, and with both Price and Ghost signing off on the doctor’s orders, you returned to your quarters where you expected to see your room exactly as you’d left it before Ghost brought you into the medical wing. Only nothing was as you’d left it. All the paperwork left on the floor was gone, as well as the other documents that had been left on your desk that still needed finishing. All of it was gone. Your bed and all of the bedclothes you’d been taken from were also missing. Replaced with totally brand new bedding in dark hues of dark green and navy blue with a decidedly feminine pattern on the quilt. Items you didn’t own. Or have any idea where they came from. Even the smell of stale air was traded for a woody, and familiar smell that wasn’t of a candle, or room spray; It was from a person. The person who sat in the corner of your room in your desk chair with his massive arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes staring at you through the painted visage of a skull gracing a black compression mask.

“Sir,” You greet hoarsely, still working through some of the non-significant parts of your recovery that lingered. Ghost stood from his seat and met you halfway across your room with a silent nod, his hand reaching out and motioning for you to step closer to him. Warily but complicit, you make the few steps forward and watch his hand turn to slide against your jaw and stay there firmly. “I expected you to be at drill.” You say with a tinge of surprise at the touch of his bare hand resting against your cheek.

“Should be,” He replied flatly. “But I’m not.” You nod a little, biting your tongue when his fingertip rubs over the curve of your ear. His eyes were soft and his unarmored physique was highlighted by the shadows made by the lamp on your side table. He’s inspecting you, you know as much. Clear by his thumb pressing over your pulse point and the minute exactly that he waits before speaking again.

“Do you like the color green?” His question knocks you off guard and his eyes slide over the quilt laying neatly over your bed. You were quick to answer honestly out of mere habit.

“Yes, sir.”

His hand stiffens against your cheek, and Ghost takes another step closer. His boots graze the tips of yours and his chin is nearly tucked against his chest to look down at you properly. You’re breathing a little harder, anticipating another break of his patience and an onslaught of screaming all directed at your apparent mistakes made right in front of his face. Judgments you’d still be unable to solve no matter how much you thought about it or what you did to try and find a solution of healthy -or not- motives. Ghost doesn’t yell though. He actually lowers his face down to yours, eyes locked right on you and an intensity burning there.

“Why do you call me that?” His low growl made you shiver, especially when his hand dropped lower to your throat. Now squeezing, but holding your gaze steady on him, reminding you of his strength. The power over you he’d always held, and given you the instant to call him ‘sir’ in the first place. Everything about Ghost was overwhelming, and you’d always been one wave away from drowning under him.

“You deserve the honor…” You answer, certain. Even if he’d broken your spirit and came back in the aftermath with questions you still believed to be much too complex for a single-sentence answer. Hopefully, he understood a little bit better but the way you leaned against his hand, letting him actually feel the pressure of your throat pressing into his palm. Literally offering your trust in him over again, testing the Lieutenant and watching as his eyes widened. His other hand came up to your face, counteracting the pressure you’d applied to keep your breath and blood flow uninterrupted. His face is still only inches away from yours but unflinching at the close contact.

“Brass,” He murmured, masked face teasing closer with his own lack of control. “I’m not what you think I am.” Your chest tightens with his words, soaked in desperation that heats your lips and cheeks.

“What’s that, sir?” You question, earning another flinch of his fingers against your skin.

“Safe… Trustworthy… Honorable.” He replies, getting even closer. The smooth material ghosted over your lips, and his breathing fanning over you wetly through the damp material. You sigh, feeling lightheaded. Weak in his hands, confused yet happy to have your life held in the palms of his hands. Confused about where his mistrust comes from, but gaining perspective every time he flinches when you address him in the way you always believed he’d feel the most revered and… loved.

“You’re wrong,” You challenge, hands moving from your sides to run up the thin shirt covering his chest. “You’re a man of fear. One that death shakes at the mention of. Even looking at you through my scope a mile away is enough to remind me you’re capable of inhuman things…” Your voice lowers, hearing thoughts straight from your soul escaping without filter from your brain. “Yet you’re human. So much more than anyone sees. Because it’s not evil that keeps you going. It’s the fear and hatred of losing anything that means something to you.” Your hand rests over his chest, hearing his heart thundering against his ribs.

“You’re not a monster, you are terrified of losing everything. That is why I call you ‘sir’, is because you’re a man unlike any other, Ghost.”

Hearing your own voice say his name like that feels so foreign. Coming off your tongue with the letters not fitting together in a way that you’d experienced. But Ghost… he reacts differently. His hands tightened around you and he hugged you against his chest tightly. His chest heaves up and down and the thunder of his heartbeat impossibly quickens until your left ear can’t hear anything but the repetitive thrum of blood coursing through his body. Heavy arms snake around you, one around your head to secure it to him and the other clinging to your waist with his hand fisting into your shirt until it’s skin-tight on your stomach. The Lieutenant practically shakes against you, using your much smaller frame to steady himself.

Yet he’s dropping to one knee on the ground, bringing you down with him until he’s nearly cradling you and softly rocking your weight back and forth. Soothing himself in much the same way a child would after scraping their knee on the sidewalk and the tears have begun to dry up. God, it made the massive man feel so weak; much like you did after he’d yelled at you a week ago. Both of you kneeled on the floor now with all of your wounds opened up to each other and had silently found a calm within the eye of a destructive storm that had been raging against the pair of you while everyone on the outside had been simply looking on with bated breath to see how the ending would play out.

“Brass - I…” Ghost’s voice choked up again, his arms tightening around you. “God, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t ignore you anymore… I’m losing my mind.”

You lean into his chest harder, arms struggling to reach all the way around his wide back in an attempt to support him a little bit. You understood through the way he was grabbing at anything on you he could desperately. So you did all you could and rubbed your hand up and down his back quietly allowing him the time to work through his thoughts. Both of you had been hurt by this, and while the Lieutenant’s form of apology came in the way he’d ushered you for help when you needed it most and unquestionably been the reason behind the way your quarters looked. Now it was you, cradling a man who’d never shown a single crack in his armor, feeling the weight of so many emotional wounds that he was practically bleeding out with pain and palpable regret.

“You don’t have to…” You whisper, resting your forehead against his.

Ghost just nods his head, panting heavily and giving a low sort of whine. “I’m so sorry…”

You smile sadly. “I’m sorry too.”

His eyes soften more, blinking away at wetness brimming at his waterline. “Say it again… please. I need to hear it. God, please.”

“It’s okay…” Your hands cradle his cheeks, feeling the sharp lines and hard muscles. “I’m right here, Ghost. We’re going to do this over again… Together, Ghost.”

Nodding weakly, he meets your gaze as you say his name again. Reveling in it. “Together… together, with you.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months ago

Text

i'm glad i get forever to see where you end

check all tags on and read if you prefer on ao3

rated e, minors dni

happy birthday to my wife in all but law, @messessentialist. this whole idea came out of nowhere and then just kept growing and growing, much like my love for you. anytime you're ready to live our rv life dreams, i'm ready.

i'm not gonna post any links here, but just know i had 8 tabs open of different fish and birds that can be seen in and around indiana lakes. i didn't have a particular lake in mind, but there are plenty to choose from so if it matters to you, i mostly looked at lakes in the northeast and northwest area of indiana.

title is lyrics from forever by noah kahan, which is a song you should absolutely listen to if you haven't before.

this work is for sadie. if she is the only one who reads this, then that's all that matters to me.

//////////////////////////////////////////

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

He stares down at the paper in his hands. He thought he’d feel relief, maybe a tiny bit of happiness that he’d never admit to. He even considered that he might feel a small speck of sadness the day his brother died.

But all Wayne Munson feels right now is disbelief and anger, and he doesn’t know where to hide it before Eddie gets home.

“God damn idiot. Couldn’t even have the decency to die of old age. Had to go and get killed behind bars,” Wayne mutters under his breath as he folds the paper and slips it back into the envelope, hoping that keeping it out of sight might help him come to terms with the emotions flooding his chest. “Bullshit.”

Wayne is tired. He feels exhaustion in his bones, even in his fresh retirement.

For some, retirement is a time to reflect on the life you’ve lived and experience the things you couldn’t while you worked and raised a family. For others, retirement never happens at all.

For Wayne, retirement is a reminder that he almost lost his nephew, his son, and the government had to make sure he wouldn’t say a damn thing about how.

He knows he shouldn’t complain, but damn he sure would like to.

And now he has to figure out a way to tell Eddie that his father got killed in prison. The letter doesn’t say much, just that it was violent and the person responsible for his death is facing further consequences. As if Wayne cares about that. As if it helps explain this situation to a boy who already lost enough.

He sighs as he grabs a beer from the fridge and glances at the clock. Eddie should be home soon. He can’t hold onto this for too long; The news will get out soon enough and he’ll hear it from somewhere else, somewhere who won’t take the time to see what Eddie needs.

He takes a sip of the beer, then another, hoping the next taste of the bitter hops will help him decipher what he needs to say to Eddie.

It’s almost a blessing that Eddie doesn’t arrive home for another hour, giving Wayne time to finish his beer and get started on dinner.

Wayne is already prepared to ask Steve to head out tonight instead of linger, using the excuse of making sure Eddie doesn’t need anything before he goes. Usually Wayne finds it endearing, and hopes Eddie can see what’s so obvious there, but not tonight.

But Steve doesn’t walk in with Eddie.

Eddie’s humming something when he walks in, setting his cane against the table before sitting down in a chair and looking at Wayne with a smile.

“Hey, Wayne. How’s your day been?”

Wayne knows he’s about to ruin Eddie’s day at the very least and he’s not sure if he wants that task. He silently curses Al Munson again, wishing for someone to show up and say it was a mistake just so he doesn’t have to do this.

“Oh, boring. Ya know I hate retirement,” Wayne says as he brushes off the stress, tries to figure out a way to lead in to the news naturally. “Too much time on my hands.”

“You love fishing, though. Thought that’s where you went all morning.”

Wayne nodded. “You’re right about that. Guess I just like keeping my mind busy.”

He’s met with silence, which leads him to looking over to the table, where Eddie is staring at the envelope the letter came in.

Why did he leave it out in the open like that? It’s clearly marked from the prison.

“What’s this?” Eddie asks, always curious to the point of danger. “Dad get out?”

This was one of the worst things Wayne ever had to do and that’s saying something. Vietnam wasn’t for the weak, losing the love of his life nearly killed him, and seeing Eddie in a hospital bed after just barely escaping death is something he’d feel deep in his chest for years. But this was up there.

“No, son,” Wayne sighed, turning away from the pot on the stove. Beef stew and bread with butter was one of Eddie’s favorites, but it took a lot of work. That didn’t matter as much as making sure Eddie had support. “They sent a letter to let me know your dad passed away.”

Eddie didn’t look away from the letter. He was playing with the rings on his fingers, replaced by Steve the moment he realized they were missing in the hospital.

“Did they say how?” Eddie finally asked, still not looking up at Wayne.

“They just said another inmate was responsible. I don’t know any details. I’m sorry, Ed. Really sorry.”

And he is. Despite the fact that Al was a terrible father and made Eddie’s life harder than it should have ever been, he knows Eddie must have a lot of complicated emotions.

“Welp!” Eddie claps his hands on his thighs before finally looking back up at Wayne. “Guess that’s that.”

“It…is?” Wayne is trying to watch for any sign of discomfort or sadness, maybe anger. He sees none.

“Yeah. Not like I’ve really had him around to feel much of a loss.” Eddie smiles. It’s not fake, at least not according to Wayne’s judgment. “You’ve been my dad more than he ever was.”

Wayne feels warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of Eddie seeing him as his parent. It makes sense, but he’s never outright said something. Sure, he gave him Father’s Day cards, often handmade. And yeah, he braved a fishing trip every year for Wayne’s birthday because he knew it meant a lot to him. There was that one time he’d called him Dad when he was on morphine in the hospital.

Hearing it changes something in Wayne.

“You really feel that way, kid?” Wayne asks, sitting down at the table across from Eddie.

“Yeah. I kinda thought you knew that already.”

“Guess it’s nice to hear anyway.”

They don’t say anything else. They don’t need to.

A few minutes goes by before Wayne stands up and walks over to the stew, giving it a stir and taking a spoonful out to test the carrots and beef.

“Is that beef stew?” Eddie asks as the scent hits him.

“Sure is.”

“You were worried about how this was gonna go, huh?” Eddie teases, smirk evident in his voice.

“A little. Can’t blame me, can ya?” Wayne decides it’s done and turns off the stove. He’s grabbing two bowls from the cabinet when the front door opens.

“You forgot the meds!” Steve yells as he runs into their kitchen with a bottle of prescription pills in his hand. He freezes when he sees Wayne dishing out stew. “Sorry. Uh. Am I interrupting?”

Wayne laughs around a sigh, reaching up to grab a third bowl.

“No, have a seat, son. Just gettin’ ready to eat.”

Eddie stands and limps his way to Steve, taking the pill bottle to pocket it before he leans further in his space.

“I’m an orphan!”

Steve’s jaw drops and Wayne does all he can not to laugh. It’s not funny, and he knows that Eddie’s probably not processing the news properly yet, but he’d rather laugh than cry.

“Sorry, what?”

“My dad’s dead. The biological one in prison. Rest in peace to the man who gave me, like, two useful skills and musical talent.” Eddie is still leaning into Steve’s space and Wayne’s watching, waiting.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, that sucks.”

“Nah, it sucks that he was such a shitty dad I barely even feel sad that he’s dead.” Ah, there it is. That’s why he’s doing better than Wayne expected. “I’ve got Wayne.”

“Damn right,” Wayne adds as he pulls spoons out of the drawer. “Let’s eat.”

Steve seems lost for a moment as he looks between Wayne and Eddie, unsure what else to say in this admittedly strange situation.

He finally grabs two bowls off the counter and sets them in his and Eddie’s spots at the table.

“Let’s eat.”

- - -

Two days pass before it really hits Eddie.

Wayne’s been waiting.

Nothing major happens. Eddie doesn’t break down in tears or lash out in anger. He doesn’t even mention saying goodbye in some way.

“We should go on a trip.” He says to Wayne while they’re eating breakfast.

“What kinda trip?” Wayne asks without looking up from his newspaper.

“Camping. Or maybe cabin-ing. Somewhere with walls and running water.” Eddie sounds breathless, like he’s run a marathon. Wayne finally looks up and sees the look in his eyes. “Could go fishing and roast marshmallows and swim and stuff. Like that one time.”

He’s talking about the trip they took together a few months after he moved in permanently. His mama was gone and his dad was sitting in jail waiting for sentencing on an armed robbery turned homicide. Wayne wanted to get Eddie’s mind off everything before he had to go back to school, so he took him up to a friend’s cabin at the lake for a few days.

Eddie’s never been an outside person, but they had fun there.

It was the first time Wayne felt like Eddie was his.

It may have been the first time Eddie felt safe with Wayne, too.

“I could see if that cabin’s available. My buddy doesn’t rent it out much anymore so I’m sure he’d be fine with us using it.”

“Could Steve come?”

“Sure.”

He agrees without a second thought.

This is Eddie’s way of seeking comfort in the people he has left, he can see it from a mile away. If Eddie needs Steve to come with them, it’s no skin off Wayne’s back.

Plus, Wayne can recognize how badly Steve needs to relax. He can’t believe someone as young as him walks with so much tension in his shoulders and lines on his forehead.

“Sweet. He’s never been fishing,” Eddie explains. “Or hiking in the right side up. At least not proper hiking. I guess we aren’t really doing proper hiking. I’m wearing jeans. Can’t be real hiking.”

Wayne smiles down at the sports section of the paper, nodding and humming in agreement when Eddie recommends something else for their trip.

- - -

Steve tries insisting on taking his car as his contribution to the weekend, but Wayne tells him they need the space in his truck for all their gear. It occurs to him when Steve just blinks back at him that Eddie didn’t explain how much is actually involved in all this.

But Wayne takes the time to show him some of the stuff he already has packed in the bed of his truck.

“I thought we were staying in a cabin. Why do we have a tent?” Steve sounds nervous when he asks.

“It’s not a full tent. Just a canopy to hang up to protect us from the sun if we get caught up somewhere during our hike.”

“Hike?” Steve turns towards the trailer, glaring at Eddie, who is too busy trying to figure out which of his sneakers to wear to notice. “He didn’t say anything about hiking. I don’t have boots or, or, anything!”

Wayne grabs Steve’s shoulders, looks him in the eye, and lets out a laugh.

“Do ya think Eddie would agree to go on a hike that requires special boots?” Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t think I could bribe him to go on anything but an easy trail unless that Lars guy from Metallica was at the end of it.”

“So I’ll be fine in my Nikes?” Steve clarifies.

“Better than.” Wayne turns back to the truck bed. “I grabbed an extra pole for ya, but it’s a bit short. We can make it work, though.”

Steve stares at everything piled into the truck. Wayne stares at Steve.

He can’t read him quite like he can read Eddie, not yet, but he’s got a feeling that Steve’s overwhelmed by the effort. Wayne doesn’t know much about his upbringing, but he can imagine it was pretty lonely what with his parents being gone more than they were home.

He’s certain Richard Harrington wouldn’t even know how to cast a line, let alone catch a fish.

“Wayne! Should I just bring both?” Eddie’s standing barefoot on the top step of the deck, holding two pairs of sneakers up.

“Sure, Ed.” Wayne looks down at his bare feet and wrinkles his nose. “Don’t forget your socks.”

“Does he do that a lot?” Steve asks, still staring at everything in the truck.

“Not so much anymore. When he’s got a lot on his mind, though, he forgets little stuff. Socks, underwear, eating.” Wayne could go on, but he’s pretty sure Eddie will kill him if he does. “He’s excited for this trip so it probably isn’t at the front of his mind.”

“Right, yeah. I noticed that.” Steve finally looks at Wayne, small smile on his face. Fond, Wayne would say. “He was so caught up on picking up the kids for game night, he forgot the games.”

“Sounds like our boy,” Wayne said, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from Steve at his words.

But Steve’s smile grew, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He looked over at where Eddie had been standing moments ago, and Wayne watches him.

“Steve, I feel like-“

“Wayne! We forgot hot dogs!” Eddie calls from inside the trailer, front door wide open allowing him to see Eddie’s movement by the fridge. “And buns!”

Steve looks back at Wayne. “I can run and get some while you finish up here.”

“I already grabbed them. Check that red cooler and the bag next to it,” Wayne gestured towards three coolers along the side of the truck bed. “He wasn’t payin’ attention when I told him I was packin’ everything.”

“Not surprising.”

“We got it all Ed! Throw your bag in and let’s go!” Wayne calls towards the trailer. “He’s gonna throw a fit about ridin’ in the middle, but that’s what he gets for bein’ a bean pole.”

Steve snorts as he walks over to open the passenger door. “He’ll live.”

Wayne thinks Steve’s gonna fit right in.

- - -

The cabin is off the beaten path. It’s actually off of all paths. They’re lucky that Wayne’s friend visited recently to clear bushes and trees away so they could get to it.

Forest surrounds it on three sides, the lake is in the back.

It’s quiet, an escape for all of them, but especially for Eddie. Whatever thoughts are trying to cloud Eddie’s mind might just float away in the fresh air if he manages to relax enough.

They unload the truck efficiently, bringing everything inside except the fishing equipment, which stays on the front porch so Wayne can load it on the boat before nightfall. He doesn’t bother locking his truck up; There’s no one around for two miles at least.

Steve’s loading things into the fridge and Eddie’s…

“Where’s Ed?” Wayne asks as he grabs his duffel bag to bring to one of the bedrooms.

“Said he wanted to see how cold the water is,” Steve shrugs, shoving the beer to the side so he can make room for Eddie’s Mountain Dew. “Told him it’s probably not that cold since it’s August.”

“Anything less than boiling is too cold for that one,” Wayne chuckles. “I’ll go load the boat.”

He goes out the back door, immediately locating Eddie at the water’s edge. At least he didn’t go far. He was a bit of a flight risk at the best of times and these weren’t really the best of times.

His shoes and socks are off, sitting in the mix of sand and rocks that make up the shoreline. The rocks are smooth, worn down over thousands of years of water and animals and people. Perfect for skipping across the top of the water, splashes disrupting the calm of a lake with few visitors this close to the end of summer.

Wayne showed Eddie how to skip rocks years ago, not on this lake, but a much smaller one that they’d visited for the day the summer before he started high school. It took him about 100 tries before he got it, but when he did, he’d beamed back at Wayne, proud of himself for possibly the first time in his life.

But he’s not skipping rocks now. He’s standing at the shoreline, where the small waves break against the sand, staring out at the horizon. Wayne is tempted to leave him be, but he can’t.

He walks up behind him, makes sure to clear his throat so he isn’t completely startled when Wayne stops right where the water stops. It licks right at the toes of his boots, but they’re his work ones, steel-toe.

Eddie turns and gives him a small smile.

“Sorry, just wanted to dip my feet in.” Eddie apologizes as if Wayne would care that he’s already finding solace in the solitude of the lake.

“Stay out here as long as you want, kid. You okay?” Wayne watches as Eddie’s hands curl into fists and then relax against his thighs.

“Yeah. Thanks for bringing me out here. I’ll help load the boat,” Eddie offers, already turning towards Wayne fully and taking a step out of the water. Wayne holds his hand up to stop him. “What?”

“I got it. You can help pack the cooler in the mornin’.”

Eddie shrugs and turns back to the lake.

Wayne watches him for another minute, silent so he doesn’t disturb whatever thoughts are brewing in Eddie’s head.

As he walks back to the porch to grab the tackle boxes and poles for the boat, he sees Steve watching Eddie out the kitchen window, concerned frown and furrowed brow on his face.

Steve doesn’t notice him.

- - -

The first night is Wayne making dinner while Steve and Eddie argue over which side of the queen sized bed they’re sleeping on. He can’t help but laugh at how quickly it went from calmly suggesting the other person sleeps on the window side to personal insults.

When he hears Eddie say something about Steve’s hair being too big, he shouts for them to join him.

Dinner is relatively peaceful considering the warzone that was their shared bedroom moments before sitting down to eat. Everyone enjoys the chicken and green beans Wayne cooked, barely leaving any for leftovers. They talk about their plans for the morning, and Steve offers to clean up after they eat so Wayne can have an early night.

It’s kind of him, but he already knows their arguing is just gonna wake him up if they haven’t settled on the bed issue.

“How about you take turns sleepin’ by the window?” Wayne asks before agreeing to an early bedtime. “That way it’s fair.”

“But who has to sleep there tonight?” Eddie asks, sticking his tongue out at Steve.

“Rock, paper, scissors?”

“That’s stupid.”

Wayne raises his brow at Eddie’s crossed arms. “Draw straws then.”

“We don’t have straws.” Steve looks around the kitchen, trying to find something they can use in place of straws, but fails. “It’s fine. I’ll take the window.”

Wayne can tell he doesn’t want to, and he’s pretty sure he can guess why neither of them is thrilled with sleeping directly under a window that looks out into a dense forest, but Steve’s a self-sacrificial kind of guy. That’s been clear for as long as Wayne’s known him.

He also knows that Eddie, even as stubborn as he is, wouldn’t let a friend feel uncomfortable.

“I’ll take it tonight.” Eddie offers.

“No, it’s okay. I can take it.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Y’all will argue over anything.”

Steve and Eddie both turn to him with matching grins. “Mhm.” They agree in unison.

“Eddie takes window tonight,” Wayne says. “Steve can have it tomorrow night. Whoever catches the biggest fish this weekend gets to pick on the last night.”

“Sounds fair,” Steve nods, turning to Eddie to see if he agrees.

“Sure. Fair.” Eddie stands and starts clearing the drinks from the table.

Wayne decides to leave before he gets dragged into a new disagreement. He’s only got so much patience.

He’s not surprised to hear them go out the back door after the sun sets, voices quiet, but still audible through Wayne’s open bedroom window.

They don’t go far, just past the porch, about halfway to the water.

“You know, my dad would never have done anything like this with me,” Steve states, only a small hint of bitterness in his tone. “He didn’t believe in bonding time or whatever. Thought that was for fathers and sons who didn’t have a family business to maintain.”

“My dad never did either.” Eddie says back, and Wayne’s heart stops in his chest. “Probably couldn’t have stayed sober enough to make the drive to a place like this.”

Wayne waits for Steve to say something, anything. He waits for so long, he’s tempted to look out the window and see if he can see them under the light of the moon.

“Your dad didn’t deserve you,” Steve finally says, quieter than they’d been before, like he didn’t want to disrupt the quiet night with his words. “And you deserved better than him.”

“I had Wayne eventually. I have Wayne now.” Eddie replies just as quietly. “And you do too, ya know.”

Wayne isn’t much of a crier. He’s only done it a handful of times. But Eddie’s words make his eyes well up and his throat burn.

“He barely knows me,” Steve tries to argue.

“He knows enough. You were there for the worst of my shit. You still stick around. You’re here right now even though you could’ve turned down his invitation.” Eddie sounds like he’s holding back tears now. “If you mean a lot to me, you mean a lot to Wayne. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Wayne wishes he could be a part of this conversation, or at least be able to see them both. He’s respecting their space as much as he can, though. He’s laying in his bed and biting back tears the way any respectful uncle would.

“I’m not used to meaning so much to someone.”

Wayne isn’t sure he hears him right, his voice breaking halfway through, but Steve couldn’t have said anything else.

He should stop listening. This is turning into something else entirely, he thinks. He shouldn’t hear whatever Eddie says next.

“You mean everything to me.”

Wayne closes his eyes, holds his breath, hopes that if Steve takes it the way he knows Eddie means it, that this doesn’t turn into a real fight. He hopes that Steve’s reaction is kind, even if it’s not what Eddie wants.

Wayne’s almost grateful that he can’t hear what Steve says next. Whether it’s rude or loving, he doesn’t want to be a part of this moment like this. He can’t close his window, they’d hear it. He can’t leave his room, he’ll just be in view when they come back inside.

He waits one minute, two, three. He hears a twig snap and then quiet giggling.

He smiles to himself as he hears footsteps heading back towards the cabin.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Eddie wakes up with Steve’s arms around him and something bubbling in his chest.

Could be heartburn, or it could be the love that’s been growing inside him for months.

He remembers their conversation last night, looking up at the stars and listening to the leaves gently brushing against each other in the breeze, and he can’t help the blush on his cheeks. When Steve kissed him last night, he was pretty sure he was dreaming.

This wasn’t a dream, though.

They stayed up way too late. Eddie knew the moment he looked at the clock as they got into bed and saw 1:48 in bright red that he’d struggle today.

He could hear Wayne moving around the cabin, probably making coffee and breakfast for them since they’d need an early start for fishing. It wasn’t Eddie’s favorite thing to do, but Wayne loved it, and Eddie loved Wayne.

Steve groaned as he moved one arm above his head.

Eddie looks up at him, blushing harder when Steve’s half-lidded eyes are already looking down at him. He’s smiling, cocky if Eddie’s reading him right.

“Sleep okay?” Steve’s sleep-raspy voice asks, fingers gliding across Eddie’s upper arm in unknown patterns.

“Mhm. Not long enough,” Eddie admits. “Could stay in bed.”

Steve hums in agreement before seemingly realizing that Wayne’s already up. “Don’t think we can skip out on Wayne, though.”

This is why Eddie has a hard time pushing his feelings down for Steve. He’s done this before, whether he realizes he did or not.

In the hospital, the day after he’d woken up, Steve had stopped by to bring some clothes for Wayne since he refused to leave Eddie’s side. The kids had apparently been hounding him to take them with him, but he stood his ground and told them that Eddie needed time with just Wayne right now and that he needed rest.

A few weeks later, Steve could’ve easily taken Eddie home by himself, but insisted on waiting for Wayne to get off of work to do it.

Just a week ago, Wayne had forgotten a few things at the store, and when Steve overheard him grumbling about having to make another trip, he offered to go.

That’s just who Steve is.

Eddie loves him for it.

“Yeah. He’d be so bored without me scaring the fish away with my constant humming and leg jiggling,” Eddie agrees seriously. “Wouldn’t want him to miss me.”

Steve lets out a loud laugh, and Eddie hides his pleased smile in Steve’s chest.

He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, can’t believe Steve’s arm tightens around him, pulls him closer so all he can feel and smell is Steve.

“You could just stay quiet while we fish,” Steve suggests, as if Eddie hasn’t thought of that already. “Just for a little bit.”

“That sounds boring.”

Steve pokes Eddie’s cheek with his other hand. Eddie nips at his fingertip before Steve can pull away. They both laugh.

It’s easy.

A knock on the door interrupts the casual cuddling, but Eddie knows it’s not because Steve’s ashamed to be caught with him like that. Steve isn’t used to this being okay.

“You boys up?” Wayne’s voice is barely muffled through the door, something Eddie notes for later.

“Yeah!” Eddie calls back, though he probably didn’t need to speak more than normal volume.

Steve is tense below him. Eddie hates that.

He tries to soothe him by running his hand along his side, memorizing the bumps of his scars, keeping his breathing even so Steve would calm down. Wayne wouldn’t walk in without Eddie telling him he could, but Steve must’ve assumed he didn’t respect his space that much.

“Breakfast is done. Just made eggs and toast.” Wayne knocks once more on the door before they can hear his footsteps walking back to the kitchen.

Steve relaxes and sighs.

“You don’t have to do that.” Eddie still traces along the scar on his hip. “Wayne’s cool.”

“I know.” Steve goes to sit up, but Eddie holds him down. “Eddie, I know. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to react like that.”

“There’s a price to pay before you get up.”

Steve snorts. “And what’s that?”

“A kiss.”

Steve kisses the top of Eddie’s head.

“Unfortunately, I won’t be accepting that form of payment.”

Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing slowly as he guides his face up to look at him. Eddie hopes he can’t feel the heat on his skin, but the odds aren’t great.

“One kiss.”

“Only one?” Eddie pouts.

“Don’t wanna get carried away when we’re supposed to be getting up.” Steve leans in until his breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “So one kiss and then you let me leave so we can go fishing with your uncle.”

“Fine.” Eddie can’t help smiling into the kiss. It’s quicker than he wants, but it’s perfect. When Steve pulls away, Eddie groans and falls flat on his back. “What if we fake sick?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs as he gets out of bed and tries to get changed into regular clothes.

Eddie watches him, can’t wipe the smile off his face as Steve nearly trips over his own pant leg. He doesn’t even care if Steve catches him looking, not anymore.

He gets to look now.

After Eddie’s confession last night, after their first kiss, and the second and third, and talking for two hours by the water, it was pretty obvious that they were skipping over that new relationship awkwardness. Eddie hadn’t quite said he loved Steve, and Steve hadn’t said it either, but actions spoke louder than words. The way they couldn’t stop touching, the way Steve looked at Eddie while he talked about his most recent adventure with Dustin, the way Eddie watched Steve throw rocks as far as he could into the depths of the lake, it was all love.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m never leaving this room.” Steve is looking at him as he buttons his jeans and Eddie is considering sending Wayne on his own.

He waited months for this, but now it felt like waiting another hour was too much.

“Looking at you like what?” Eddie asks innocently.

“Like you wanna eat me.”

“Well…” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows and taps the bed. “I could eat breakfast in bed if you get back in it.”

Steve walks over to the bed, leans over Eddie, gets close enough to nip at his top lip.

“Get out of bed.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before walking to the door. He leaves it open as he leaves the room without looking back.

Eddie curses Steve’s ability to get him to do anything, and reluctantly gets out of bed. He throws on his shorts, a tank top, and ties his bandana in his hair so he doesn’t have to worry about it sticking to his forehead.

When he gets to the kitchen, Wayne and Steve are staring out the window and whispering.

“I didn’t think we’d see a marsh hawk. Population’s been down for the last decade,” Wayne’s saying as Eddie walks up on his other side. “I’ve only seen one before and that was during a trip to Lake Michigan when I was 14 or 15.”

Eddie looks out the window, trying to see what they see. He’s not sure what a marsh hawk looks like, but he’s assuming it’s one of the birds in the nearby trees.

Steve wordlessly points it out to him.

“That’s a cool bird.” Eddie says at a normal volume. The bird spreads its wings out, acting as if it might take off. It’s beautiful, the white along its beak and chest a stunning contrast to its dark brown wings.

“It’s good luck to see one in some cases,” Wayne whispers as he turns away from the window. “Seeing one on your wedding day is supposed to lead to a long and happy marriage.”

“Too bad no one’s getting married here today,” Eddie remarks as he grabs a plate and starts to scoop eggs onto it.

“Not married. But still good luck,” Steve mutters as he follows Eddie. “So we just have to grab the cooler on our way out?”

Wayne nods. “And the bait.”

“I thought we used plastic stuff.”

“We use lures, but we put worms on there to get the fish to actually bite,” Wayne explains. “I’ve got plenty of stuff for bass, but I dunno how lucky we’ll be.”

Eddie nods along as he takes a huge bite of toast. “One time we forgot worms and had to use hot dogs.”

“Fish eat hot dogs?” Steve asks in surprise.

“Some fish settle for hot dogs. They don’t quite realize ‘til it’s too late that it ain’t their food,” Wayne shrugs. “But we got plenty of worms for this trip. Should be perfect fishing conditions.”

They all ate in silence after that, but Eddie could feel Steve’s nerves building the closer they all got to clean plates.

Steve didn’t have to say it for Eddie to know he desperately wanted to impress Wayne, especially now that they were…something. They probably needed to clarify exactly what they were at some point soon. They would. Eventually. Tonight maybe.

Or tomorrow.

“I’ll clean up if you boys wanna finish getting ready.” Wayne offered as he scraped the last of his eggs onto his fork.

Eddie took him up on his offer, jumping up to go brush his teeth and get his sneakers on.

“You comin’?” He asks Steve, who’s still slowly eating the eggs he drenched in ketchup.

“Just a second,” Steve replies with his mouth full. “You can use the bathroom first.”

Eddie nods and leaves the room.

He hears the sink in the kitchen running a few seconds later, and the hushed voices of Wayne and Steve having a whispered conversation. He could sneak back, try to listen in, but he thinks that maybe Steve needs this minute alone with him.

He finishes what he needs to do quickly, though, and admittedly sneaks back towards the kitchen quieter than he normally would, hoping to overhear something interesting.

But all he walks into is Steve laughing as Wayne smiles back.

Eddie doesn’t find that he minds much, as long as they’re both happy.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Being on the boat is different as an adult.

The last time Eddie fished with Wayne on a boat, he was barely shoulder height on him and 100 pounds soaking wet. It was a much smaller boat, though, barely fit two grown adults comfortably.

This boat, however, was built for a family of at least four adults. The awning covered half of the boat, so Eddie didn’t have to sit in direct sunlight when the sun finally rose.

Steve stood to the side, watching Wayne prep the lures and bait, casting his own line out and reeling it in until it was taut. Eddie went next, making a show of it just like he always did. Wayne doesn’t comment, just shakes his head and smiles fondly as he watches the water.

“Um,” Steve starts. “I guess it’s my turn.”

Eddie’s pretty sure Wayne knows Steve’s nervous. It’s hard not to tell with how quiet he’s been the entire ride to the middle of the lake.

Wayne sets his pole in the stand at the stern, and turns to Steve with his hands on his hips. “You saw how I cast mine?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t look sure. Eddie’s not really used to seeing Steve anything less than confident, even in the face of monsters.

It hits him the moment he thinks about monsters.

They’re on a lake. A lake very similar, though much larger, to the same lake that almost dragged Steve to his death. A lake he’d previously trusted, and no longer could.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just subtly places his hand against Steve’s hip, offering whatever comfort he can. Steve won’t admit he’s scared, but Eddie doesn’t need him to.

Wayne sees it, Eddie knows he does. But because he’s the best uncle, he doesn’t say anything.

He raises a brow and then schools his features back to a comforting smile before showing Steve how to hold the pole so he can cast it comfortably and far enough out that movements from the boat don’t scare the fish from the hook.

Eddie watches, and he sees the nerves slowly easing from Steve’s shoulders, his forehead, and his arms. He relaxes inch by inch, and Eddie couldn’t be more in love.

Wayne steps back so Steve can cast his line.

When the bobber hits the water, Wayne smiles and pats his shoulder. “Good job, son. Now reel it in a bit so you can feel if something bites. Good. Now we just wait.”

Steve turns red at the praise and Eddie realizes that Steve probably hasn’t heard a “good job” from an adult in a very, very long time.

Eddie’s childhood was fucked, but at least Wayne was there cheering him on, showing him what it meant to be proud of your kid eventually. He’s pretty sure Steve hasn’t had that for most of his life.

“How long do we wait?” Steve asks after a few minutes.

The lake is near silent, and the water is so smooth it looks like glass. If Eddie leaned over, he’d probably be able to see his reflection. The gentle lapping of water on the side of the boat and the distant sound of birds in the trees lining the water’s edge fills the air.

“I usually give it 10 or 15 minutes before reeling it in. Check my bait, maybe change the lure if there’s no bites.” Wayne’s watching the end of Steve’s line as he speaks. “I used bass lures on all of ours, but we might change them up in a minute. See what else is out there.”

Steve nods and turns back.

Wayne doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve’s bobber.

Eddie watches Wayne curiously.

Anytime he’s fished with Wayne, he’s left Eddie to his own devices after showing him what to do. He watches his own line, and only steps in to help if Eddie catches something and doesn’t wanna touch the fish.

Wayne’s eyes widen just as Steve exclaims, “Hey! Look!”

“Reel it in!” Wayne shouts, setting his pole down again and rushing to stand next to Steve.

Eddie turns and watches as Steve reels in whatever he’s caught. Judging by the bend in the pole, it’s a decent sized fish.

“Shit, what if it breaks?” Steve asks, voice shaking with the effort of trying to reel in the fish before it escapes.

“It won’t. Keep going.”

When they manage to get the fish out of the water and into the boat, Steve is breathless.

“Look at that!” Wayne holds up the line, right above where the hook is caught in the fish’s mouth, beaming at Steve. “Our boy got himself a king salmon!”

Ignoring his mention of “our” boy, Eddie steps closer and grips Steve’s shoulder, shaking him just enough to make the boat rock.

“How can you tell?” Steve asks Wayne, reaching out to hold the fish up himself.

“You see all these black spots on his back and fins?” Wayne points at a few of the spots. “Other salmon don’t have this many spots or any at all. You keepin’ him or throwin’ him back?”

Steve looks at Eddie, smile falling as he suddenly looks unsure about what the right thing to do is. Before Eddie can say anything, Wayne wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“Either is fine with me. Could cook him up for supper if you wanna keep him or send him back to his friends with a new piercing.” Wayne looks over at Eddie. “Eddie ain’t much for seafood, but I make a mean baked salmon.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, think I’ll keep this one.”

Wayne pats his shoulder again before showing him how to unhook the fish safely. He opens up the empty cooler he brought and places the fish inside.

Wayne moves to grab the bait so Steve can set up again, and while his back is turned, Eddie takes a chance.

He leans over and kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“You’re a natural,” Eddie whispers as he leans away again.

“Shut up.” Steve is blushing that same pretty pink that he was last night and earlier this morning. Eddie can’t look away. “Just lucky.”

Wayne catches two rainbow trout and Eddie manages to catch a small northern pike, which quickly gets thrown back when Eddie starts to make up a story about how it’s a teenager who got separated from its parents. Wayne shakes his head as Eddie carries on, but he’s used to it. Eddie never keeps his catch if he’s lucky enough to have one.

They relax as the day warms up, popping open cans of soda as the sun gets closer to the middle of the sky. It’s not about fishing anymore; It’s about soaking up the tranquility of their surroundings.

Eddie isn’t known for being still or quiet, but even he can let himself enjoy this. Every day since March has been about survival, and appointments, and witness statements, and lawyers, and moving, and the kids. He feels like he’s barely even had time to think.

So while he sits on this boat with two of his favorite people, he thinks.

He thinks about how different his life is now, and how different it could still be.

He thinks about how much Wayne has sacrificed for him for most of his life, but especially the last five months.

He thinks about how much he wants to tell Steve he loves him.

He thinks he’ll tell him tonight.

📼📼📼📼📼

Steve sits on the porch while Wayne cleans the fish, staying a good distance away so he doesn’t end up seeing things that’ll make him wish he left the poor salmon in the lake. Eddie’s inside doing god knows what.

He’s never been happier.

He does wish Robin could be here, but she hates the outdoors. She didn’t even like going on her family’s beach trip last month.

Plus, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to have the alone time he needed with Eddie last night if she were here. Even though she’s been telling him to just talk to him for the last three months, she wouldn’t have caught on to his plan.

Feeling this much for Eddie isn’t new.

After the events of spring break, Steve took a long, hard look at high school and realized that at least part of the reason he was always staring at Eddie was because he was very interested. He started looking for any excuse to stick around in Eddie’s hospital room, and then offered to take him to appointments, and it continued from there.

Now, they hang out almost every day. Sometimes it’s with the kids, sometimes with Robin, sometimes alone.

Steve realizes that even before they kissed and fell asleep holding each other and flirted as much as possible all day, this was the best relationship he’s ever had. He needs to tell Eddie as soon as they’re alone.

“All done,” Wayne says as he steps onto the porch, the container of cleaned fish in his hand. “You ready to learn the secret to makin’ the best fish?”

Steve is quick to nod, excited that Wayne thinks he’s even worth the time it’ll take to show him. Wayne’s been so kind this entire trip, making sure Steve is involved and welcomed, makes him feel like he belongs in their little family.

As Wayne grabs everything they’ll need, Steve sees Eddie through their bedroom door, writing in a journal, tongue poking between his lips as he concentrates. Steve’s never seen this journal, but he can assume it’s another one of his many already filled with songs and campaign ideas.

“You done starin’ at Ed?” Wayne’s voice is quiet behind him, but still makes him jump with surprise.

“Wasn’t staring at him. Thought I saw a…um…bug?” Steve knows he’s been caught halfway through trying to lie, so he moves on. “Ready?”

“Are you?” Wayne raises a brow and smirks.

“Yes!” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What are you implying?”

“Mostly that you’re too in love with my nephew to focus on what I’m sayin’.”

Steve feels heat in his cheeks, but he chooses to ignore it and pretend that he can distract Wayne from what he’s saying.

“So we’re frying your fish and baking my salmon?” Steve starts holding up some of the spices Wayne’s set out on the counter. He can feel Wayne’s eyes on him. “Looks like you like spice.”

“Steve.” Wayne sighs. “It’s okay to feel however you feel. I ain’t gonna judge.”

“Right. Yeah.” Steve turns to finally look at Wayne, who looks sad. He shouldn’t look sad right now.

“Eddie ever tell ya about Paul?” Wayne starts filling one pan with oil and the other with a few small pads of butter.

Steve shakes his head, watching closely.

“Paul was my boyfriend when Ed first came to live with me.”

Steve’s eyes widen as that hits him.

“Woulda been my husband had we been able to be married.” Wayne starts mixing flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl while he talks. “He was a long haul truck driver. Gone for weeks at a time. Stayed with me when he passed through. Came home one day to Eddie asleep in the bed we usually shared and asked if I’d been up to something.”

Wayne smiles fondly down at the bowl of eggs, buttermilk, lemon juice, and garlic he’d started mixing together as he spoke.

“Told him everything. Expected him to call it quits. He didn’t sign up for raising a troubled kid, especially not one who may not be okay with what we had.” Wayne stops and looks up at Steve. “But he just hugged me and said he’d follow my lead. Whatever was best for Ed was what was best for us. Ain’t sure I could ever find a love like that again.”

Steve can feel tears trying to form in his eyes, but he manages to bite them back. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, but he listens without interrupting.

“Ed didn’t take too well to him at first. Probably ‘cause he was in and out so much, didn’t get time to bond with him like I did. Paul was patient. Always so patient with both of us.” Wayne shakes his head and looks down at the counter before he looks up smiling again. “Ed came out to Paul first, ya know? When he was 13. He’d gone on a short haul with him over the summer and when they came back, they were thick as thieves. Paul told me that night that Ed had told him he liked boys and it changed their entire relationship. I was Uncle Wayne, but Paul was like a dad to him. Definitely more than his own dad ever was.”

Wayne looked over to check that Eddie was still in the bedroom, distracted by his writing.

“Paul started taking short hauls instead of long ones. Only gone three or four days at a time instead of 14-20. Thought it was so he could be close to Ed, since we’d kinda become our own little family.”

Steve realizes he’s holding his breath when Wayne sniffs.

“He’d gotten sick and didn’t tell us. Started out thinkin’ it was pneumonia, but it got worse. Doctor thought it was heart problems, but it was everywhere. Leukemia. Untreatable by the time they figured it out.”

Steve’s wrapping his arms around Wayne before he even realizes he’s doing it, letting the tears fall as he thinks about how much pain Wayne and Eddie must’ve gone through to lose someone so important to them.

“Ed was barely 14 when he passed. I think he took it harder than me.”

Steve can’t even imagine. Wayne lost someone he loved, but Eddie lost a father figure after losing his real father to things he should never have had to compete with. And now Eddie’s father was really dead.

All he really has is Wayne.

“Kid shaved his head in solidarity when Paul lost what little hair he had left,” Wayne huffs a wet laugh as they pull away from each other. “Couldn’t believe it when I got home from work and they were both bald as cue balls. Thought they’d lost it.”

Steve and Wayne are both laughing, and it’s probably going to draw Eddie’s attention, but he kinda hopes it does. He could use Eddie’s closeness right now. He needs to see that he’s okay, that this didn’t completely destroy him, that he went on anyway.

But all Eddie does is yell at them to keep it down, which just makes them laugh harder.

“And you never dated anyone else?” Steve asks as Wayne starts putting his fishin the egg mixture. “Not even for fun?”

“Nah. Once Paul was gone, I had to work more to pay the bills. What little time I had was spent with Ed. He was my priority, always.”

Steve wipes the tears from his cheeks as he watches Wayne drop the fish into the hot oil.

“What about now?” Eddie was busy with his own life now, and they’d received enough money from the government to cover their new trailer and have plenty leftover to cover bills. Wayne was retired and had plenty of time to start dating again.

“I got lucky with Paul. It ain’t fair to compare any future relationship to what we had and I think that’s all I’d do. I’m happy the way things are for now.”

Steve drops it for now, but he makes a note to ask Eddie about it soon. He’s surprised Eddie never mentioned Paul, or even the fact that Wayne was gay, especially when he came out to Steve and Robin while he was still in the hospital.

Wayne goes on to explain how long he keeps the fish in the oil before flipping them to make sure the cooking is even, and how putting them onto paper towels to cool drains too much of the grease.

As Steve watches him prep the salmon with a glaze he made from garlic, honey, and lemon juice, Eddie finally comes out of the bedroom.

“Smells like fish,” he says with a grin.

“That’d be the fish.” Wayne doesn’t even bother looking over at him as he leans against the counter. “Salmon is already a tender fish, so you can bake it to whatever you prefer. It should only take about 10 minutes on 400 unless you like it extra crispy, then you may wanna do it for 13 minutes.”

“Chef Wayne teaching you everything you need to know?” Eddie asks Steve, stepping close enough for Steve to feel the heat coming from his body.

“He’s pretty talented. Might need to consider opening a restaurant,” Steve teases.

“Wait ‘til you have his steak. So tender you could cut it with a spoon.”

“Don’t know what you’re after with your compliments, but I’d rather ya just ask for it.” Wayne checked the clock as he closed the oven door.

“I was just bein’ nice!” Eddie exclaims, throwing his arms up in frustration. Steve never noticed how Eddie’s accent changes the more time he spends around Wayne, but he smiles to himself when it slips now. “See if I give ya a compliment again, old man.”

Steve watches as they banter back and forth some more, both of them smiling and laughing the entire time.

It’s nothing like what Steve was used to. His parents never bantered, only fought. Anything that was big enough for discussion, was big enough to yell about. As Steve got older, he learned that staying quiet and letting them get it out would usually turn out better for him. Luckily, once he reached middle school, they didn’t bother coming home enough for him to worry about what to do when they were arguing.

He doesn’t remember a time when there was fun and laughter between them, not even when he was a young child. He can remember his mom dancing with him while his dad was gone on business trips, but the moment he arrived home, the air became thick with tension and her attitude became somber. He remembers one time when his dad let him sit on his desk while he worked, making paper airplanes and having a competition to see how far they could fly, but the moment the phone rang, he was hissing a ‘get out’ with no explanation for the abrupt stop to the fun.

Steve couldn’t imagine talking to either of his parents the way Eddie talks to Wayne, but he also couldn’t imagine receiving the love from them that Wayne so easily gives to Eddie.

And now that he knows another piece of their story, he can see how they’ve come to be like this, comfortable with each other in ways many kids never are with their parents.

Steve’s mind continues to wander throughout dinner, but no one calls him out on it. Maybe Wayne somehow communicated with Eddie that they’d had a serious conversation. Maybe it was just obvious that Steve was far away from the table. Eddie and Wayne chattered as they ate, and Steve let the constant echoes of their voices be the background noise to his thoughts.

“Stevie?” Eddie’s hand touched his cheek, shaking him out of the path he was lost on. “Wayne’s gonna take a walk. You wanna go?”

Steve smiles up at Eddie before looking down at his plate. He barely remembers eating, but he only has a few small pieces of salmon left.

“Sounds good.”

Eddie looks concerned, but Steve brushes him off. He looks around, and when he doesn’t see Wayne in the room with them, turns his face so he can kiss Eddie’s palm.

“Should we grab the bug spray?” Steve asks as he stands, pushing in his chair and grabbing his plate off the table to wash it.

“Wayne’s got it outside. Think he put enough on for all of us,” Eddie follows close behind Steve. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“A lot.” Steve brushes it off so they can join Wayne. “Ready?”

Eddie nods and leads the way out of the cabin.

They ate an early dinner, so the sun is still high in the sky as they make their way down a trail that follows the lake’s edge. Eddie occasionally gets distracted by colorful rocks, holding them up excitedly for Steve and Wayne to acknowledge.

Steve knows the love he has for Eddie is written all over his face.

He doesn’t care to hide it.

Wayne’s quiet as they walk, occasionally pointing out a fish splashing in the distance or a heron standing in the water. He swats a mosquito away from Steve’s face, only for the mosquito to turn around and bite his hand. Eddie’s far too busy climbing over fallen limbs and branches of trees to notice what they’re doing.

“You boys should go for a swim when we get back. Water’s cool.” Wayne makes the suggestion without looking at Steve, who suddenly feels like he’s being studied under a microscope.

“Not sure if Eddie even brought a swimsuit.” Steve laughs it off, hopes they can go back to silence or change the subject.

“I’m sure you boys could figure something out.”

Thankfully, the topic gets dropped and Steve is left wondering if Wayne knows.

Sure, he joked about Steve being in love with Eddie earlier, but that wasn’t a confirmation that he knew they were together. He thought they’d been careful today, but maybe Wayne caught them when they kissed by the truck when Eddie was grabbing his wallet from the glovebox.

He doesn’t have time to think about it more because Eddie lets out a yelp and they can only watch as he falls on his ass into a muddy spot between two large rocks.

“I hate the outdoors,” he grumbles as he stands.

Wayne is laughing, but Steve is rushing over to make sure he’s okay.

“Are you hurt?” Steve’s hands are hovering over him, trying to figure out if he sees any blood. “Did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Eddie replies quietly, holding his arms out as if trying to show proof. “My dignity may be a bit bruised.”

They’re interrupted by the hooting of an owl. It’s loud enough that Wayne shushes them and starts looking around at the trees surrounding them, trying to locate the creature.

It hoots again before Wayne locates it, pointing to a tree only ten feet away and to their right.

“Wow.” Steve says as he gets a close look at it, the white and tan feathers blending into beautiful patterns. “It’s so small. I thought owls were bigger.”

Eddie’s looking up at it, smiling.

To Steve’s shock, he’s the one who responds, not Wayne.

“It’s a northern saw-whet owl. They’re closer to the size of a robin than an owl you may be thinking of.” Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand and squeezes it once before letting it drop. “Paul taught me about all kinds of owls.”

Steve’s head snaps towards him. “You heard us this morning, didn’t you?”

“You weren’t quiet,” Eddie shrugged. “I used to be obsessed with nocturnal animals. He bought me a book about bats and owls for Christmas and went through it page by page with me.”

“I remember that book,�� Wayne looks at the owl while he talks. “Paul said it made him nervous to go out at night.”

Eddie laughs. “He was convinced we’d get attacked.”

Steve can’t blame him. The longer he looks at the owl’s impossibly large eyes and spread wings, the more he believes he’s being hunted.

“Ready to head back?” Wayne asks after another minute, drawing his attention away.

“Wish I had a camera like Byers. Probably could get a good picture.” Eddie says as he starts to walk back the way they came.

Steve takes note to ask Jonathan about his so he can get him one for Christmas.

When they make it back to the cabin, Wayne excuses himself to take a shower and do a crossword before bed, which leaves Steve and Eddie to fill their time however they want. Steve thinks back to Wayne’s suggestion about going for a swim, but he’s not sure Eddie would want to now that the sun’s almost set.

He’s not even sure he wants to get into the lake after dark.

But it does sound appealing, especially with the layer of damp sweat coating his skin from their walk. And there is a light on the dock that would make it easier to at least see each other.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Steve asks Eddie as he sips on a soda.

“Now?” Eddie looks out the window in the kitchen, frowning at the darkness looming.

“Now.”

“It’s dark.”

“We can turn on the light at the dock. C’mon. Just a quick dip,” Steve nudges his shoulder as he starts walking to the back door, fully dressed.

“You’re not gonna change?” Eddie asks in disbelief.

“Don’t plan on wearing my clothes in.” Steve winks as he leaves, knowing Eddie will follow him even if he’s hesitant to do so.

Within seconds, the back door is closing and Eddie is on his heels.

“Are we seriously skinny dipping in the lake while my uncle is here?” Eddie hisses out, hand covering Steve’s forearm.

“I’m skinny dipping. You can do whatever you want,” Steve responds. “But I wouldn’t complain if you joined me.”

Eddie huffs beside him, but still follows him the rest of the way to the water’s edge. The light has a covered power switch to their right, but now that they’re in an open area by the water, they realize the moon is pretty bright.

Steve starts stripping off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. Eddie watches, probably trying to decide if he’s gonna join him or go back inside and pretend Steve isn’t naked in the water. When Steve pulls his pants off, Eddie sighs and starts untying his boots.

“Can’t believe you have me getting into another lake. Wasn’t the first time enough?” Eddie’s grumbling loud enough for Steve to hear, but quiet enough that Steve only catches every couple of words and has to use context clues for the rest. He can’t hold back a smile when he shoves his underwear down and leaves them on top of his pile of clothes.

Eddie is still grumbling as he removes his own clothes, enough that he’s distracting himself from realizing Steve’s already naked and waiting for him.

When he looks up, his eyes widen and his jaw drops open.

“You’re gonna catch flies like that,” Steve steps closer as he speaks, feeling more nervous than he expected to. “Probably should get in so the mosquitos don’t get us.”

“Right.” Eddie shakes his head, closing his eyes so he can focus. “Yes. Let’s get in.”

Steve grabs his hand and walks them both to the water. The water is chilly, but not uncomfortably cold. He knows in the next few weeks, the temperature will drop enough at night to cause the lake to be freezing cold. But right now, it’s perfect.

Being here with Eddie is perfect.

Eddie breathes out slowly as they keep walking further in, squeezing Steve’s hand.

“All good?” Steve asks when they’re waist deep.

“Yep. All good. How uh…how far do you wanna go?” Eddie’s looking out at what little they can see of the lake, even with the moonlight glistening off the tiny waves of the lake.

“Just a little more.”

Steve doesn’t take Eddie’s trust for granted here, knows that he’s asking a lot of him.

When the water is just below his collarbone, he stops.

Eddie is tense next to him, but doesn’t seem to be panicking.

“Okay?” Steve asks.

Eddie looks around and then settles back on Steve. “I’m okay.”

Something about the way he says it makes Steve pause, though.

“You can let it out if you need to, baby,” he offers. He’s not sure what it is specifically that makes him think Eddie’s on the edge of tears, but he wants to give him the chance to cry. “I’m right here.”

Eddie doesn’t sob, or cry, or do anything for a minute. They’re both looking out at the dark lake and the moon above, listening to crickets and a gentle breeze in the leaves of the trees nearby. Eddie’s breathing just stops for a few seconds and that’s all the warning Steve gets before he’s sniffling and talking.

“My dad was a piece of shit,” he starts. Steve is gonna follow his lead, and listen, and let Eddie tell him whatever he wants to. Even if that’s all he says. “He hated me. Pretty sure he hated my mom towards the end of her life, too. Anything that put attention on someone other than him was no good. That’s why he got involved with the closest thing Hawkins had to a mafia.”

Steve rubs his thumb against the side of Eddie’s hand under the water, prompting him to continue.

“He ranked pretty high with them so he got plenty of attention. Forgot that he had a wife and a kid. When my mom died, he temporarily got more attention from everyone. Made sure he looked like the mourning husband trying to be strong for the son he barely knew. Even at four and five years old I knew he was full of shit. But at least he was taking me with him sometimes, showing me cool shit. He got arrested when I was seven for petty theft and possession of drugs. Got lucky that the judge believed his sob story of being the only one who could take care of me.” Eddie scoffed. “Paid a fine with money he stole and had to do 80 hours of community service that his boss signed off on after a few weeks. Didn’t care that the only meals I ate were at school and the neighbor’s house when she saw me alone for dinner. Didn’t care that I never had school supplies or clothes that fit. Didn’t care that I missed school anytime I missed the bus, which was often because he never gave me an alarm clock to set to get up in time.”

Steve wants to cry, hearing how shitty Eddie’s childhood was, but he refuses to right now. He doesn’t want Eddie to stop talking.

“When I was nine, he taught me how to steal a car. I could barely see over the steering wheel, but it was the first time I made him proud.” Eddie clears his throat. “He got sent to prison when I was 11. I got put in the system because everything is a mess and Wayne wasn’t even listed as my uncle anywhere. Wayne heard about it all a few weeks later and didn’t stop pushing to have me in his care until they gave in. I’m surprised they put up so much of a fight considering they don’t usually care that much about poor kids with shit parents. Wayne fought for me and I didn’t even know how much he did until I was older.”

Steve glances over to see tears falling down Eddie’s face. He let go of Eddie’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist instead, pulling him against his side.

“He didn’t have to do that. He just knew what a piece of shit my dad was and apparently checked on me a few times a year without me or him knowing. And he told you about Paul.” Steve nods. “Paul was in and out a lot at first, made me suspicious. Thought he was up to no good and just using Wayne as a place to sleep when he wasn’t in the truck. But then he took me with him a few times over the summer and we got closer. I don’t think Wayne even knows how much that man loved him. He was gonna start working more local jobs sooner until I came into the picture and Wayne was struggling to keep up with bills. Long haul makes more money, so he stayed out. Made sure I had clothes and school supplies, made sure I ate three meals a day and had whatever snacks I wanted. Sent payments to the electric company before Wayne even got the bill so I never had to worry about sleeping through alarms or not being able to take a hot shower.”

Steve didn’t realize he was crying until Eddie reached his thumb up to wipe away a tear.

“He was my father in the ways that mattered to me, just like Wayne has been. Losing him was more painful than anything I feel about my dad dying now. All I feel now is guilt that I feel anything at all.”

Steve uses the arm wrapped around Eddie’s waist and the weightlessness the water allows to lift him up and guide his legs around his waist. He’s looking up at the man he loves, holding the back of his thighs, and wishing he could take every shitty feeling away with his words of comfort.

“You can feel however you feel. I’ll love you through it all,” Steve reassures him. Eddie’s breath catches at his words, and Steve knows he chose the right thing to say at the right time. “No one who cares about you is gonna judge you for having any emotion about your dad dying. If you wanted to stand in the middle of a table in the cafeteria at the school and cheer, I’d sit at the table and cheer you on. If you want to show up at his grave and scream and cry, I’ll hold your hand the whole time. So will Wayne. And so would Paul.”

Eddie sobs as he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and hides his face against Steve’s neck. Steve can feel the wetness of his tears, can feel his own still falling into the water below. He doesn’t care how long they stay like that, doesn’t even care if this is all they do all night.

But only a few minutes later, Eddie is pulling back and looking down at Steve, hands playing with the wet ends of his hair.

“I didn’t expect any of this this weekend,” he admits. “I should learn to stop having expectations.”

Steve’s lips turn up in a half-smile as Eddie rests his forehead against his. “Better or worse than what you expected?”

Eddie snorts. “Better. Always better with you.”

Steve’s glad it’s dark enough to hide his blush, but he’s sure Eddie knows what he does to him by now. If he doesn’t, he will soon enough.

Eddie traces a line along Steve’s neck, gently poking at his moles as he watches his own movements. Steve holds him, lets him do what he wants, feels every touch like lightning.

“I love you,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper, like he’s unsure it’s okay, even after Steve’s confession. “I think I have for a while.”

Steve wants to kiss him, but this moment still feels like a part of Eddie’s monologue. He wants Eddie to lead now, to show him how to love him. Whatever he needs, Steve will give it willingly and gladly.

“How long until Wayne comes to make sure we didn’t drown?” Eddie asks.

“Probably not unless we’re still gone by morning.”

“As lovely as being in your arms all night sounds, I don’t know if I’d wanna stay in the water that long,” Eddie laughs as his legs tighten around Steve’s waist. Their mostly soft cocks brush against each other, making them both inhale loudly. “A little longer might not be so bad, though.”

Steve’s finding it harder not to kiss him, not to let his hands wander from Eddie’s thighs, up to his waist, back to his ass. He resists, but Eddie shifts his weight again and everything gets harder.

“You’re killing me.” Steve groans, letting his head fall back so he can look up at the stars in the sky instead of the ones in Eddie’s eyes.

“Look at me.” Eddie’s tone’s shifted to something serious, still adorned with an affection Steve can’t believe he gets to hear. Steve looks at him with his lips parted and unblinking eyes. “I wanna be yours. Will you let me?”

Steve nods. That’s all he can do.

Eddie’s lips are against his, gently coaxing them apart further so he can slip his tongue inside. Steve’s not even thinking about how he hasn’t brushed his teeth or eaten a mint since supper, the warmth of Eddie’s hands circling behind his back and rubbing his shoulders enough of a distraction even without his tongue gliding against the roof of his mouth.

Eddie’s hands are slow, but on a very clear path downwards as his tongue traces Steve’s bottom lip. Steve lets his own hands slip to Eddie’s lower back, lets a finger trace up and back down his spine.

Eddie shivers in his arms.

“Cold?” Steve whispers.

Eddie shakes his head. “Feels good.”

So Steve does it again, with more pressure, hoping Eddie gets the hint.

When Eddie’s hips grind forward, he knows he did.

They’re both nearly fully hard now, lips meeting again, hungrier and biting. Their moans vibrate between their chests, every movement rippling the water around them.

Eddie’s rocking his hips back and forth, friction against their cocks not quite enough to do more than get them more worked up.

The water doesn’t feel cool anymore, Steve’s body already adjusted to the temperature the moment Eddie’s hands were on him.

“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks, bringing Steve out of his thoughts about doing this in his pool when they got home. His hand is flat against Steve’s stomach, fingertips dragging through his happy trail.

“Want you to feel good too, love,” Steve trails one of his hands to Eddie’s front, stopping for a moment on the angry scars covering his side. “Together?”

Eddie slides impossibly closer, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks at once. Steve’s legs would’ve buckled without the help of the lake holding him up.

“Together is good,” Eddie smirks as his hand works them both over, squeezing at the tip the way Steve likes.

Steve had every intention of helping, but he’s doing all he can to keep his feet on the sandy ground and Eddie’s legs wrapped around his waist. He whimpers as Eddie leans in to kiss him slowly, a contradiction to his hand speeding up around them.

“Eddie, I’m…close.” Steve pants against his lips when he pulls back for air. His toes are curling in the sand below, and the small waves around them are splashing against their necks as Eddie’s hand moves faster. Steve’s bucking up into his touch, doesn’t care how desperate he seems.

“Me too, Stevie.” Eddie reassures him, just as breathless as Steve is.

Despite the words spoken and the increasing heat coiling in his belly, Steve gasps in surprise when he comes. He’s even more surprised when Eddie is right behind him, whispering Steve’s name repeatedly as his grip around them tightens then loosens.

Chests heaving, legs shaking, they stare at each other in the glow of the moonlight.

“I normally last a lot longer,” Steve breaks the silence.

Eddie breaks into loud laughter, head falling onto Steve’s shoulder before he realizes that the water is too high to do that without getting wet. He drops his legs and stands, keeping his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist for stability.

“New record for me, too, baby.”

“Next time, we’ll take our time.” Steve promises not only Eddie, but himself. He knows he has better self control than what Eddie just witnessed.

“You wanna head inside and take our time there?” Eddie’s smirking at him, fingers playfully teasing his sides under the water.

“Not sure I can be quiet enough.”

“Even if you bite a pillow?” Eddie pouts.

“I can be pretty loud,” Steve laughs, poking his bottom lip back to normal. “Plus, I’d like to be in one of our own beds when we ma- have sex.”

“Oh my god. Were you gonna say make love?” Eddie is squeezing his arms around him, lifting Steve up so most of his chest is out of the water. Steve’s hands rest against his shoulders, fingertips pruned from being in the water for a while.

“Maybe I was.” Steve knows he’s a sap. He doesn’t care if Eddie thinks it’s silly or stupid, but he does wanna avoid blowing this before it even has a chance to begin.

Eddie must see something in his eyes to keep him from pushing it more. He lets him back down slowly, soft smile on his face.

“I love that you care that much.” Eddie kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I promise we’ll hold off on making love until we’re back home.”

Steve smiles shyly back at him.

“But I wouldn’t be opposed to getting my mouth on you after we shower.”

Steve smacks Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous. I love you.”

“You really do, don’t you?” Eddie sounds awestruck, like it’s suddenly hit him that this is happening, that Steve feels this much for him.

“I really do.”

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Waking up in Steve’s arms for the second morning in a row felt too good to be true.

Most of this trip had felt too good to be true. Last night definitely felt like a dream.

He lets his eyes track over Steve’s bare chest, his neck, his lips pouting out as he sleeps. His eyelids are fluttering, but he’s still asleep, probably coming out of a dream.

Eddie’s fingers trace what’s left of the scar around his neck, touch light enough that Steve wouldn’t feel it in his sleep. He thinks about Steve’s bravery, how he dived head first into everything, be it protecting people from monsters or falling in love. Eddie knows Steve went without medical care after most run-ins in the Upside Down, and had only gotten some last time when Wayne insisted he do so while Eddie was in surgery.

The neck scars faded after they were patched up by a nurse, but many of his other wounds were deeper and infected, leaving a permanent reminder on his back and sides much like Eddie’s.

He traced along the outer lines of one of the scars shaped like a heart on his chest. Steve insisted it was just a weird oval, but Eddie insisted that it was a heart over his heart.

His chest hair has grown back in around it, nearly covering it up if you didn’t look close enough.

Eddie is close enough now.

It’s definitely a heart.

“Not sure how I feel about you staring at my chest that close,” Steve’s raspy voice fills his ear and he looks up to see Steve’s sleepy eyes looking at him. “Max at least had the decency to look from a distance.”

“Ha.” Eddie fake laughs. “I was just admiring your bountiful chest hair and the heart you wear on your sleeve.”

“It’s not a heart,” Steve groans as he covers Eddie’s head with his arms, pulling him on top of him. “You’re just blinded by love.”

“Who knew I’d be the optimist in this relationship?” Eddie breathes against Steve’s lips.

“Probably everyone who’s ever seen me in a relationship.” Steve kisses him quick, just a peck. “Let me up.”

“You’re the one who put me here.” Eddie doesn’t move. “Take me with you if you need to go so badly.”

“Eds, c’mon. I gotta brush my teeth.”

“So do I.”

Steve sighs. Eddie smiles.

“Fine.”

As Steve stands from the bed, Eddie wraps his legs around his waist, a mirror image to their time in the lake. Eddie’s not actually expecting Steve to carry him more than a few steps, but he blushes when he makes it all the way to the bedroom door.

“Still wanna come with me?” Steve raises his eyebrows like he knows Eddie didn’t expect him to take it this far.

“Can you seriously carry me down the hall?”

Steve stares blankly back at him. “I carried you for almost a mile when we got out of the Upside Down.”

“Touché.”

Steve manages to open the door with one hand before it goes back to Eddie’s leg, hoisting him up further so he has a better grip. Eddie just stares down at Steve’s face in amazement.

“Hey Wayne,” Steve says as they pass Wayne’s room. “Sleep okay?”

“Uh huh. There a reason you’re carrying the prince?” Wayne asks, causing Eddie to turn his head and scowl. “Wake up grumpy?”

“Woke up lazy.” Steve responded as he continued on the journey to the bathroom.

Once there, Steve set Eddie down on the floor and handed him his toothbrush. They brush their teeth together, smiling when they catch each other's eye in the mirror.

“Will you kiss me for real now?” Eddie asks after they’ve finished.

“Are you gonna walk to the kitchen by yourself or will I have to carry you?” Steve retorts.

“Your kiss will give me the power to make it.”

Steve snorts a laugh and leans in, his palm resting against Eddie’s jaw to pull him the last inch or so. The kiss is nothing like their back and forth. Steve consumes him, and Eddie lets him.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there, but he thinks it must be longer than they should.

Wayne clears his throat from the doorway. “Didn’t realize this was a part of brushin’ teeth these days.”

Eddie leaps away from Steve, panicked at the thought of Wayne knowing suddenly. He’s been out to Wayne for so long, he forgets that others probably aren’t comfortable being so open. Steve especially, who’s mentioned before that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to come out to everyone until he was sure they’d be okay with it.

“Relax, Ed. I clocked Steve months ago.” Wayne pushes past them to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Move your relations outta here.”

“Relations?” Eddie gags. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“Sorry to ruin your delicate sensibilities. Get out.”

Steve pushes Eddie out of the small bathroom before he can respond. Eddie decides to focus on Steve’s hands on him instead of arguing further.

“Should we make breakfast?” Steve asks as they walk back to the bedroom to get dressed.

“I shouldn’t ever touch an oven, but I’ll watch you lovingly while you make breakfast, darling,” Eddie bats his eyelashes at Steve, who throws his shirt at him. “That’s not very nice. Did I not, and I quote, suck the soul-“

Steve’s hand covers his mouth while he sputters to cover Eddie’s voice from traveling out of the room.

“Jesus, the mouth on you.”

“That’s what you said last night.” Eddie’s words are muffled under Steve’s hand, but they both laugh. “I can make toast.”

“I’ll make the rest.”

Eddie spends the morning touching Steve as much as possible.

He spends the afternoon sneaking kisses and holding him in the hammock set up on the porch thanks to Wayne’s creativity.

He spends the evening watching Wayne and Steve fish while he drinks a beer and hands them whatever they need.

This is a peace that may only last until they leave tomorrow, but something tells him that this is only the beginning of a future Eddie never could’ve pictured for himself.

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

five years later

Wayne slams the truck door a bit harder than he means to. The rain just started coming down harder and he wanted to get his bag in the cabin before it got worse.

When he enters the front door, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air and he smiles.

“Made it, boys!” He yells, though he’s pretty sure speaking at a normal volume would’ve been enough. The cabin hasn’t changed much, but Steve insisted on opening up the front portion so it felt more welcoming.

“Wayne!” Steve exclaims as he pops up from behind the counter of the kitchen. “You just missed Eddie. He went out to the trail.”

Wayne gives Steve a tight hug. At Steve’s frown, he laughs. “Sorry ‘bout the wet clothes. Started raining the last couple miles in and got heavier just as I was leavin’ the truck.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned.

Just as he spoke, the back door slammed open and Eddie dropped his camera bag on the floor.

Wayne and Steve both took in the sight of him, drenched from head to toe, dripping onto the tile floor, and laughed.

“I hate the outdoors.”

“You’re a nature photographer. You hate the rain.” Steve walks over to him, still laughing under his breath. He picks up the bag before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Wayne watches the exchange, fighting tears back at the reason he was invited to their cabin this weekend.

Eddie was proposing to Steve and wanted Wayne to be there to capture it with his camera. He didn’t care that Wayne was an old man who could barely operate a camera, he just wanted someone to do it.

He knew Eddie was also a little nervous and having Wayne there would help keep him calm.

Why he was nervous, Wayne didn’t know.

They couldn’t legally get married, but they might as well be anyway.

“Wayne!” Eddie bounces over to him and throws his arms around him, forgetting for a moment that he’s soaked. “You’re here!”

“I’m here. I’d like to be less wet, though.”

Eddie backs up and Wayne pats his shoulder.

“Both of you should go get changed. Dinner’s ready in ten minutes.” Steve interrupts on his way to put Eddie’s camera bag in their room.

“Yes, dear,” Eddie replies. Steve turns and glares for a moment before continuing on his way. Once he’s out of sight, Eddie sighs. “God, I love that man.”

“That’s why I’m here, ain’t it?” Wayne playfully shoves at Eddie’s arm. “We better listen to him. I’m starvin’ and I think he’d make us fend for ourselves if we show up at the table dripping wet.”

As Wayne changes, he can hear Steve laughing in their room, Eddie talking about something he saw outside in the usual dramatic way he spoke. He thinks back to the first time he brought his boys here together, how hushed they tried to be, how hesitant.

He looked over at a photo Eddie framed for this room so Wayne had something when he came to stay.

Paul was smiling at the camera, arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders, Wayne looking at both of them with a smile. He remembers laughing right after the picture was taken, and giving in and buying them both cotton candy. They insisted it wouldn’t make them sick, then proceeded to both rush to the nearest garbage can after they got off the Gravitron at the fair.

“Wayne! Steve’s bullying me!” Eddie yells.

“You probably deserve it!” He yells back.

“Unbelievable!” Eddie screams.

“Ha!” Steve yells.

Wayne shakes his head as he makes his way out to the chaos he chose to be a part of this weekend.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things #friends to lovers #getting together #fluff #good uncle wayne munson

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jayybugg · 1 year ago

Text

locker room activities

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Draco hates you.....or so you thought.

Warning: Language, Slight Time Skips, Kinda Asshole Draco (?), Smut (18+), No Specific House Mentioned, Use of Y/N.

Word Count: 2.6K

Note: Hi, here I am back again with another fic. It's not song-based this time, just my feral thoughts taking over for Draco. As always, thank you @pizzaapeteer for proofreading and @cafekitsune for the banner! Enjoy!

Draco Malfoy hated you.

You weren’t sure why, but you also didn't care enough to find out. In fact, you found amusement in seeing the blonde make a fool out of himself to prove his superiority. The glares he shot your way only made you giggle to yourself as you just simply ignored them majority of the time. But seeing him get riled up even more by your unbothered state always made your day.

"Another day of being an idiot, Malfoy?" you smiled lazily down at him sprawled out on the ground, his failed potion covering him.

"This is your fault! You charmed my potion to explode!" Draco shot to his two feet, glaring at you. You raised an eyebrow at him, confused at what he was even talking about. "Charmed your potion? I just got here.” you paused for dramatics. “After it exploded." You rolled your eyes at the stupidity of his accusation

"All you do is get under my skin and annoy me, Y/L/N." Draco snapped at you.

"I don't even do anything to you!" You felt your anger boil. This boy practically borderlines harasses you every day, but somehow, he was the victim? Makes sense coming from Draco.

"You do a lot of things to me!" Draco yelled at you. The chuckles from his table of friends was enough to turn him red and send him storming out of the classroom.

"Bloody hell is his problem?" You muttered to yourself, sitting down at the desk to start your potion.

You didn't see Draco for the rest of the day, figured that he probably skipped class and called his father to complain or try to get you kicked out of school. You soaked up the peace as much as you could.

"Madam Pince? Do you know where this book may be? I need it for my ancient runes class." You handed the woman a piece of paper with the title scribbled across it.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy checked it out." She returned the paper to you. You groaned softly. Of course, that imbecile had the book that you needed. "Granted, it's overdue, so he needs to return it. Why don't you go get it from him?" Madam Pince asked, looking over her glasses.

You knew this was her way of getting you to do her job. It was a known fact to everyone that Madam Prince hated to deal with Draco and the rest of his family.

You sighed, grabbing your stuff to go track down the blonde. You really needed that damn book. "Okay, I got it."

Luna was the first to see you, her smile staying wide. "Hey, Y/N!" she waved at you. Pansy turned at your approach and smiled at you. "Hey, what brings you here?"

"I was looking for you, actually." You leaned against the wall next to the girls. "I hate to interrupt the date, but I need your help, Parkinson."

"With what?" she raised her eyebrow, tilting her head slightly.

"Got any idea where Malfoy is?"

Pansy's eyes widened in surprise. "Why are you looking for Draco?"

"Don't get any ideas, Pans. He has a book that I need and Madam Pince told me to get it from him because it's overdue." You poked the girl's forehead, making Luna laugh and Pansy rolled her eyes.

"I was just surprised, that's all." Pansy defended herself, "He should be at quidditch practice, but by the time you get to the field, it'll probably be over and you'll have to wait till he comes out of the locker room."

"Okay, thanks! Bye, lovebirds." You waved the two girls goodbye, making your way over to the field.

Just like Pansy had said, by the time you got down to the field the practice was over. You stood by the entrance, hoping to catch Draco when he left and prayed that he had the book on him by any chance.

"Waiting for a hot date, y/n?" Mattheo asked, walking out with Theo as they exited the locker room first, surprised to see you waiting there.

"I wish." You rolled your eyes. "Waiting for Malfoy. He has a book that I need and Madam Pince has me doing her dirty work.”

"Ahhhh." Mattheo and Theo said, simultaneously grinning at you.

"What?" you raised an eyebrow at them.

"Oh nothing. This should be the highlight of his day." Theo smiled, patting your head. The two walked off, leaving you confused.

You continued to wait for Malfoy, watching the rest of the Slytherin team clear out of the locker room. After about another 20 minutes of waiting, you grew tired.

"What the fuck is he in there doing? His everything shower?" you muttered. You looked around at the empty hallway before sighing and pushing open the locker room door.

The locker area was completely empty, making you intensely bitter that Draco was probably in the shower. You walked up to his ajar locker to see all the quidditch equipment and no sign of your book.

"Of course, the asshole doesn't have it on him." You rolled your eyes. You looked around for any sign of him, but you didn't see him.

You walked closer to the showers, hearing water running. "Malfoy??" you called out, receiving a dead answer.

He had to be in here. He was the only one who didn't leave the locker room. You moved closer to the entrance of the shower seeing Draco lean against the wall of the shower with water dripping down him.

You eyed his physique slowly. Sure, the boy was annoying but Merlin, he was fine.

You couldn't pay too much attention to his physique because your eyes and mind finally registered what he was doing and saying.

"Fuck, Y/N. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck." Draco cussed, throwing his head back as he jerked himself off. Your eyes widened as you heard your name spill out his mouth. Was Draco getting himself off to the thought of you?

You cleared your throat loudly. Draco's eyes shot open to see you standing at the entrance and taking in his naked form.

"Shit! Y/N, what the fuck are you doing in here?" Draco scrambled to turn the shower off and grab his towel.

"Well, I've been looking for you for probably the past hour or so." You said, your eyes staying trained on him.

"Looking for me? Why?" Draco asked. He glanced around the showers and out to the locker room, "Is nobody in here?"

"No, they all left 20 minutes ago. Getting ready for dinner, I assume." You walked closer to Draco, who was unconsciously backing away from you.

You had never seen Draco look scared, almost as if he wasn't sure what to do.

He looked like prey and you were the predator.

"W-why were you looking for me?" Draco asked again, as you continued to close the distance between you both.

You ignored his question, using this advantage to tease him. "How many times have you gotten off to the thought of me?"

Draco gripped his towel tighter, "Don't be foolish, Y/N. I don't get off to you. Never have and never will."

"I just saw you, Malfoy." You rolled your eyes, looking down at his dick, "And judging by how hard you are, I can guess that maybe this isn't the first time."

"Shit, you can see it through the towel?!" Draco clutched the towel closer to him to cover up the print, "Y/L/N, I'm begging you to just go and never speak about this again."

"Begging? That's new for you." A devilish smirk took over your features as you took a step closer to him. Draco felt his heart start to pound in his chest. You looked ready to devour him.

"Is this why you said I do a lot of things to you?" You dragged your finger down his bicep, pushing him against the wall.

A part of Draco was embarrassed that he got caught like this but the other part of Draco was getting so turned on that if he was given the chance to have his way, then he was going to take it.

"All this time, you've been so aggravated with me," Your hand fondled with the fabric of the towel that wrapped around his waist, "And it was all because of your dirty little fantasies."

"Y/N, please...." Draco's voice was soft and desperate. It was music to your ears.

"Please what?" You leaned in to lick softly at his neck, "Come on, use your words. Where's that big voice of yours from earlier?"

Draco didn't even know what he wanted to say. He couldn't decide if he wanted you to free him or to just have your way with him.

"Tell me what you want me to do, Malfoy." You whispered into his ear as you continued to tug at his towel.

"Fuck." He was done. Any shred of self-respect or restraint that he had was gone. Demolished. Non-existent.

"I'm waiting." you said in a sing-song voice. You were enjoying this.

"Suck me off. Please." Draco said.

You grinned, tugging his towel down and going to your knees. You licked your lips as you eyed his dick that was harder than you thought it was.

You coated your hand in spit, pumping him before you licked the length of him slowly. You swirl your tongue around his tip, listening to Draco groaned deeply, his hands finding their way into your hair.

"Stop teasing." Draco muttered, looking down at you.

"But it's fun." You batted your eyes up at him.

That look alone almost made him cum. Draco gave you a grunt in response. You smiled, taking him in your mouth, and quickly got to work.

The lewd and slobbery sounds you were making with Draco's cock filling your mouth mixed with his moans and grunts caused your pussy to drench your panties. You reached around to the front of your school skirt and played with yourself as you continued to suck him off.

"Fuck, this is better than any dream. Your mouth is amazing. I just want to fuck your face," Draco said, looking down into your eyes that were already on him, "Can I?”

You nodded, pulling away to catch your breath as Draco gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail and shoving his dick further down your throat. Draco wasted no time using your mouth to his pleasure, taking joy in the little gagging that you were doing. The sounds of your gags turning him on even more than he already was.

"Do you like that? Being treated like my fuck toy?" Draco groaned out, watching your eyes gleam with unknown emotion. You hummed in agreement, keeping your eyes on him.

"Fuck, I'm about to cum," Draco moaned. His dick was hitting the back of your throat, repeatedly and unforgivingly. The closer Draco was getting to his climax, the sloppier his thrusts got. He let out a groan, releasing his cum deep down your throat. You swallowed it quickly, pulling away and wiping the spit that had drooled down your chin to your chest.

"I've never cummed from head before." Draco admitted, running a hand through his hair. You smiled, feeling your ego boost from his compliment.

"Well, there's a first time for everything." You stood up, gripping his dick that was still hard, "but I don't think it's fair that you get to cum and I don't."

Draco's eyes gleamed with excitement and lust. He leaned forward to nip at your ear. "Want to know what another one of my fantasies was?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, curiosity covering your face. Draco smirked as he turned you around to face the wall.

"It was to fuck you from behind against this wall."

He didn't waste time lifting your skirt up and sliding your panties to the side. He dragged his tip up and down your folds, making you whimper.

"Don't be a tease." You groaned.

"It's fun, remember?" He grinned, feeling his own cocky self return, "But I want to feel you, so I'm going to cut the fun short."

Draco slid into you, the action creating loud moans from both of you. He started thrusting fast and hard into you. The sound of your skins slapping together and the sounds of your moans filled the room. Any concern you had about someone walking in or hearing you was quickly thrown out the window.

“Fuck." You moaned.

"You feel so good. So tight and wet. Just for me, huh?" Draco whispered in your ear.

"Just for you." You whispered back. Draco continued his thrusts, slapping your ass as he went. His name spilling out of your mouth with a string of curse words.

You clenched around Draco, making him snake his hand around your neck to pull you up against him. "About to cum, baby? Cum on my dick like the good girl you are."

His words made your orgasm better than you ever thought it would be.

Draco spun you around and lifted you up, putting your legs over his shoulders and supporting you against the wall as he slid into you once again.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes, right there." You moaned as Draco drilled into you, leaving you no choice but to take all of him.

"You take me so well. So wet and so pretty." Draco covered your neck in kisses and marks before crashing his lips onto yours.

Your tongues explored each other's mouth as Draco continued to thrust into you roughly. It didn't take long for you and Draco to get close to your climax again.

“I’m going to fill you up. Have you walking out of this room full of me, and me only.” Draco grunted in your ear.

“Yes, please.” You whimpered, “Please do it.”

Draco groaned, releasing again inside of you. He pulled out of you and dropped you down to the ground softly. You gripped his arm and the wall for balance as your legs were shaking and you couldn't walk properly.

"If someone would've told me this morning that by the end of the day I would've fucked Draco Malfoy, I would've called them insane." You said, regaining your normal breathing patterns.

"I could say the same." Draco chuckled. He quickly wrapped a towel around him, looking down at you. "Your shirt is wet from the shower and the spit. Here, let me get my hoodie for you to wear."

You blushed as Draco pulled you to the locker area, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over your head.

"Thank you." You adjusted the hoodie. "So, you never answered my question."

Draco raised an eyebrow at you, pulling on his clothes quickly. "What question?"

"How long have you been having dreams about me?"

Draco paused, redness creeping up his neck, "I was hoping I would fuck you hard enough to make you forget."

"Oh, I'll never forget this."

Draco rolled his eyes, grabbing his bag, "I don't remember when they started or even when I felt an attraction to you. I just know that every night, upon recently, it's always just been you."

You nodded, gathering your stuff, "Well, hope it was better than you could've ever imagined."

"Oh, it was," Draco said, "You never answered my question either. Why were you in here in the first place?" A smile took over your face as you looked up at Draco with a mischievous expression.

"You checked out the book for the Ancient Runes homework. Madam Pince said it was overdue and since I need it, she sent me to get it from you."

"I don't have it on me," Draco said.

You smiled, walking to the door, "Oh, I know. I'll come around your dorm later and get it from you."

You pushed the door open and threw a wink his way. Draco let out a deep sigh as he leaned against his locker.

You were going to be the death of him.

#slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #theodore nott #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #draco malfoy x reader #smut #slytherin x reader #mattheo riddle #jayybugg fics

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luvsupa · 5 months ago

Text

001 | WORK OF ART

tags: sugardaddy!nanami x fem!reader, smut, public sex-ish, toys used, age gap (nanamis late 30s and readers early/ mid 20s), petnames, nanami is in love with reader and her art, mdni.

w.c: 2.6k

a/n: UHMM GUYS THANK U SOSO MUCH FOR 600 FOLLOWERS?! EEKKK ILY GUYSSS 🤍🤍

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated!

the convention center quickly fills up at eight o’clock as hundreds and hundreds of rich people eagerly gather to see and purchase the artworks displayed by you and your fellow artists.

you’re already over the fact that it’s art display season, as obnoxious rich patrons approach your work only to mock it and its price. your coordinator has repeatedly stated that your specific artwork isn’t as eye-catching as the others in your group.

“your art can only sell for one thousand, and that’s pushing it,” your coordinator once said.

one thousand is quite a lot of money, but everyone else’s pieces are selling for five thousand and more! their bland artwork compared to yours shouldn’t be sold for that much—now i’m just sounding jealous.

all the artists stand at their assigned sections in front of their artwork as the paid guests slowly walk in, drawn to whatever catches their attention. you glance at your friend beside you as she wishes you good luck.

the room is brightly lit with led lights, giving it a clean and modern feel. soft, instrumental music plays over the speakers, barely audible over the hum of conversations. waiters weave through the crowd, offering glasses of champagne that clink as guests accept them.

you stand awkwardly, already expecting the nasty glares at your canvas. this year, you went for an erotic art piece titled “a woman’s high.” the painting depicts a woman in an abstract way, in the moment of climax, as a blurred-out male figure gives her oral sex, with the focus solely on the female.

“don’t you think this is quite… inappropriate for an art exhibition?” the middle-aged woman clung to her husband’s arm, both looking disgusted at your erotic painting. she leaned in to read the card with your name, pricing, and title, her brows raising in amusement.

“hah! one thousand for this? oh dear, this is a mockery to all the other talented artists here,” she scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. the snobby rich couple found it hilarious, unable to control their laughter. “even i wouldn’t keep it if it were free!” she said as they walked away, still laughing as they moved on to the next pieces.

you stood there, their words stinging more than any you’d heard before. nearly five months spent on your painting, and this is how they treated you. damn that couple.

“your talent for oil painting is incredible,” a deep, husky voice said. you looked up to see a tall, middle-aged man with golden blonde hair slicked back, a few strands hanging in front of his beautifully sculpted face. he was looking at you—and complimenting your art?

you rarely got this stunned at one of your exhibitions, but wow. you shamelessly scanned his figure, muscles bulging from his white button-up shirt, a few buttons undone to show his toned chest. his black dress pants hugged his muscled thighs, and you gulped hard, eyes moving back to his-

“nanami! how great it is to finally see you!” your main coordinator appeared, twirling her hair awhile bombarding him with questions.

“there’s something i want to show you, but it requires us being alone,” she giggled, rubbing his arm up and down. you stood there awkwardly, not wanting to listen to their flirtatious conversation.

“i’m afraid i’ll pass. i’m more intrigued by this beautiful art.” he turned to look at you, making your eyes widen. no one had ever been this persistent about wanting to see your artwork. it made you feel giddy inside.

“oh nanami, this artist needs a lot of practice. i mean, look at the painting!” she pointed out, trying to embarrass you in front of this fine man.

“i wasn’t referring to the painting.”

oh.

“s-sir?” she stammered, both of you shocked at his words. he thinks i’m beautiful? he was very slick with that.

“and her skills are beyond amazing. the way she captures the perfect moment of the woman’s orgasm and highlights her expression—there’s no need for more practice,” he said, silencing your coordinator as he praised the parts of your art that he loved. you were still in shock at what had just occurred.

“however, there is one flaw about this,” nanami stated, and your smile slightly dropped. you were ready for him to treat you the same way everyone else had. your coordinator found an opportunity to bully you and your art even more.

“pfft, finally. i’ve noticed a lot wrong with her art—”

“the price,” he cut her off, pulling out a chequebook from his pocket and beginning to write. “how much?” you both gasped at his boldness.

“i-i…” you stuttered, at a loss for words for the first time, while your coordinator fumed. he chuckled at your reaction as he continued writing, then ripped the paper to hand it to you.

“i’d like for you to come see me later, beautiful,” he said, his smooth words leaving you hypnotized. and with that, he walked away as your coordinator followed him, trying to get his attention.

you stared down at the paper, your jaw dropping at the amount he was giving you.

10,000 dollars

holy fuck.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as the art exhibition continued on all night, you left your painting unattended- searching everywhere throughout the museum to find the mysterious man, nanami. hell, you even had to beg your annoying coordinator for his whereabouts. finally, she gave in.

“he’s going to his car, something about a gift for me!” she exclaimed. you didn’t buy it for a second, but you headed towards the elevator, stepping in to pressing‘P’ as the button illuminated. the doors closed, and the elevator descended to the parking lot.

the button stopped glowing as the doors opened, revealing the eerie parking lot filled with cars on every level. you walked out, your heels clicking against the cold concrete as you quickly rushed to see where he could be.

“are you following me?”

you stopped where you were, hearing his deep voice. you turned around to see his beautiful smirk plastered on his lips, holding his black jacket on his shoulder. fuck, he’s so hot.

“i just wanted to thank you so much for purchasing my art,” you nervously said as he eyed you down. you squeezed your thighs tight as the tension thickened.

“come with me,” he said, smiling as he formed a sinful idea in his mind. he honestly couldn’t control himself, thinking about how delicious you looked in your black mini skirt and white button-up shirt similar to his own.

cute, he thinks.

you wasted no time, immediately picking up your steps as he strode down the long parking lot to his car. finally, his car came into view—a luxurious sports car you’d only seen in movies and tv shows. how rich is he?

he unlocks the driver's door as you stand in front of his car, listening to the muffled chatter and honks of the city coming to life at night. from the corner of your eye, you see him pull out a box as he shuts the door, catching your attention.

"i want you to put this on," he says, walking closer and towering over you as he hands you the box. you carefully read it, and your jaw drops for the second time that night.

bluetooth vibrator.

"i-i can't, i have to be talking to people this whole night," you stammer, attempting to hand the box back, but he doesn't take it.

"that's the whole point, sweetheart. live a little- have fun." he coos, bringing his hands to cup your face, caressing it. "you always seem so serious. let me show you how to enjoy yourself." for the first time your body betrays you as you start feeling aroused by him.

shamelessly, you bring one of your free hands to pull his neck lower to your level, smashing him into a heated kiss. he smirks into the kiss as you suck harshly on his lips, smudging your lipstick onto his. nanami places you against the hood of his luxurious sports car as the box slips from your hand, making a loud thud on the ground.

"eager, aren't we?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension and desire.

nanami parts your thighs with his knee, allowing you to grind on him. your hips move rhythmically as you whimper into the kiss, growing wetter by the second.

he snakes his hand down to your thighs, moving his knee, eliciting a needy whimper from you. wanting more. he replaces his knee with his thick fingers, easily reaching your clothed cunt through your short skirt. he rubs your leaky slit through your panties, and you moan into the kiss. he pulls away, chuckling at how quickly you became this wet.

"such a good girl," he teases, his tone both patronizing and seductive.

you look up at him with needy eyes, craving more of his touch—more of him. you need him.

“i’ll see you inside,” he says, pecking your lips and sliding his hand away from your heat. he walks away, wiping the smudged lipstick off his mouth, leaving you sprawled out on the hood of his car. how can he leave you like this? you’re contemplating on whether you should continue on or leave- oh fuck it.

“w-wait, i’ll put it on,” you say, rising from the hood of the car and wobbling towards him as you quickly pick up the box. he chuckles, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

“my sweet girl, i knew you’d give in,” he says, turning around to see you almost losing your balance. he holds you steady as you start unboxing the toy, wanting nothing more than a good release from him.

you stare at the oddly shaped vibrator, confused about how to put it on.

nanami grabs the pink toy from your hand as he kneels to the ground. “may i?” he asks, wanting to insert it for you. you eagerly nod as he bunches up your skirt to your waist, and you stare down at him, watching his every move like a hawk.

he places a soft kiss on your clothed clit, making you nearly fall over. nanami swiftly tugs down your panties, and you step out of them as he rises from the ground, standing tall as he shoves your wet panties into his pocket. how nasty he is.

“geez, you’re soaking,” he points out, swiping two of his fingers along your slit and watching your arousal coat his digits. he brings the toy to your hole, aligning it with the tip before slowly inserting it. you hiss at the stretch of the toy within your velvety walls, the girth painfully good as you bite your lip hard, clenching rapidly around the silicone toy.

you whimper as he positions the other half of the toy against your achy clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to ensure it’s perfectly aligned with your sensitive nub. he’s determined to see you crumble.

nanami smooths down your skirt, pulling it back into place so no one can see the lewd things happening between you two. he retrieves his phone from his pocket and connects to the app, pressing the power button. your knees buckle as the vibrator springs to life, the dual stimulation nearly making you roll your eyes back at the slow, teasing intensity.

“you did so good, baby,” he coos, his praise making you hum in pleasure as he steadies your balance, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head. he increases the intensity, and broken moans slip from your lips. he finds your reactions amusing as he guides you back to the elevator, pressing the button and standing behind you, holding you in place.

“y-you clicked the wrong f-floor,” you manage to gasp, breathless. he chuckles darkly behind you, making your skin crawl. your eyes shoot up in horror as you realize he’s selected the floor where all the guests enter to get to the museum.

“oh, did I? silly me,” he says, a smirk evident in his voice. as the elevator doors open, you’re met with a small group of guests, including the middle-aged couple who had mocked you earlier. you feel a fleeting sense of relief as he finally turns off the vibrator, but the situation remains unbearably tense.

the elevator is packed with guests, and you’re pressed intimately close to nanami. the heat of his body against yours only heightens your need, as you’re unconsciously grinding against his bulge, desperate for release.

“nanami, i didn’t realize you were with her,” the familiar woman says, clinging to her husband. the bitch who flat out insulted me..

“mhm, yes, i am,” nanami replies smoothly, his hand slipping lower to discreetly control the vibrator. “have you seen her work? i think everyone should join. she’s got a beautiful speech prepared, don’t you?” he adds, his gaze shifting to you with a knowing smile. heads turn in your direction, intrigued by the fact that nanami kento is involved.

“oh, yes, i suppose i’ll prepare something as well—mmf,” you try to stifle a moan as nanami cranks the vibrator to its fullest intensity. you squeeze your thighs tightly, fighting to keep your arousal from dripping down your thighs.

“and what will it be about?” a businessman in the elevator asks curiously. you can barely focus on anything except the overwhelming pleasure of the vibrator thrusting in and out at a relentless pace, your poor clit being ruthlessly stimulated.

“haven’t—hahhh—i haven’t f-finished,” you stammer, casting a pleading look at nanami, desperate for the torture to end. he only smiles in response, his eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction.

ding!

you’ve never been so eager for the elevator’s arrival. the guests say their goodbyes, but just as nanami tries to guide you out, you stop him, hitting a random button.

“what happened to speaking to everyone the whole night, hmm?” he says, his voice dripping with mockery as he gazes down at your dazed expression.

“fuck them,” you mutter, reaching up to kiss him, but he pulls away, eliciting a pout from you.

“such a dirty mouth—do you expect me to kiss you?” he says, bringing a hand to your face. you melt into his touch as he slowly brings his thumb to your mouth, smudging your lipstick. he rests his thumb on your bottom lip, and you open your mouth, looking sultry into his hazel eyes.

you take his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and slightly bobbing your head as if giving a messy blowjob. nanami watches, his blood rushing to his growing bulge as he takes in your bratty attitude.

you release his thumb with a slight pop, leaving it glistening with your saliva. nanami, shocked by your filthy display, grabs your face and crashes his lips onto yours. this kiss is hungrier, more eager than the last.

ding!

the elevator’s arrival chimes, and the doors start to open. your coordinator, her face a mask of horror, sees you two and screams in shock. she’s so upset that storms off. the doors quickly close, leaving you and nanami in the privacy of the elevator.

you chuckle at her reaction. “i have to get back, nanami,” you say, your hands roaming his chest, a whimper escaping as you remember the toy still buried deep inside you.

“you’re really gonna leave me like this?” he growls, referring to his raging hard-on. you chuckle, feeling a thrill at his reaction. “hmm, you can still toy with me the entire night,” you purr.

nanami reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a business card, his name and phone number neatly printed. “call me when you’re ready to leave. i’m not done with you,” he promises, making you feel excited for what he has planned.

you give him a quick peck on the lips and press the ‘open’ button on the elevator. just as you’re about to step out, you feel a sharp sting on your ass cheek. you hear him hum behind you.

oh how he’s going to cause so much trouble..

#nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento x you #kento nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen x you

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k3n-dyll · 6 months ago

Text

☆Strawberry Crush

Warnings...18+, wlw, loser!Ellie, fem!reader, a few reader descriptions based on the song (lipgloss, nails - nothing body/skin/hair-wise), Ellie is...kind of a stalker, honestly?, porn with a plot, submasc!Ellie, domfem!reader, Ellie is really eager and awkward, sloppy kisses, food play? (strawberry juice is involved), fingering (r!receiving), face sitting, sixty nine

Word Count:3.2k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ Kinda hate this but I've had this damn song in my head for fucking weeks and I needed to write something about it (Spotify link in title).Should have done this when my theme was red but fuck it

Ellie's green eyes flit carelessly over the obviously bruised and beaten-up avocado in her hand, turning the bulbous fruit around over and over again as if she's truly considering buying the pitiful thing. There's a slight feeling of mushiness to it that kind of makes the hairs on her arms stand up - whatever poor fuck decides to pick this thing up once she puts it back in its crate is bound to find nothing but brown sludge on the inside.

Each turn of the overripened avocado is accompanied by a 'subtle' look around the market, her gaze fixing to the door each time the little rusted brown bell at the top of the doorframe jingles.

It'd be so embarrassing if she mixed up the time.

Not that this isn't humiliating enough already. Pathetic, even. No one in their right mind drives thirty minutes from home to look this hard, and for this long at an avocado.

On about the fifth bell ring in three minutes she can feel herself getting impatient. Today was Monday, Ellie was sure of that - the farmers from downtown had surely brought freshly picked batches of fruit and vegetables already unless something had gone awry. Maybe she should just head home and stop acting like a fucking crazy person. It's not like the average person keeps on schedule to a T every week. And even if they did, it's worrying that Ellie even knows that schedule. At least this part of it anyway.

Ellie juggles with the thought for a moment but ultimately decides to leave, placing the unfortunate-looking avocado back in its crate. It's just then when that annoying little bell dings again. She knows she shouldn't get her hopes up and yet she can't seem to help herself, looking toward the farmers market entrance to discern who it was that triggered the movement of the brass bell.

The thought that she was just about to leave makes Ellie's stomach turn. She'd have missed you completely. But just like clockwork, every Monday morning, you're here. And just like clockwork, every Monday morning, she gets to see you.

Ellie has given herself every excuse as to why her little habit isn't creepy. She's just trying to hype herself up to actually talk to you, and somehow during that time she also managed to figure out the exact schedule for when fresh produce is brought to this specific market so that she could catch you every Monday doing what you usually do. Buying strawberries.

You like those a lot.

Or, Ellie assumes you do. Why else would you buy them so religiously? Every Monday you come to buy strawberries. Various other things as well but she's noticed you take your time with the berries in particular - inspecting the fruit in each little green basket for at least a few minutes before finding one or two little baskets to buy and take home with you.

Ellie's practiced how to approach you in the mirror in her apartment before leaving the house more times than she'd like to admit, cringing at every little stutter and awkward phrase.

"You come here often?" No. Who the fuck even says that in real life? "So you like strawberries?" Well, duh.

It looks so simple in shows. Her friends make it look like nothing. Then there's Ellie. Reciting cliche lines from movies.

Not that any of that really matters though. Normally by the time you've gone up to check out your items, Ellie has already managed to convince herself that she lost her chance.

Maybe next time

Next time, for sure. But definitely not this time, no. This time she's too distracted by how delicious you look; the sway of your hips, the pretty smile you flash to the staff, the glittery pink tinted gloss spread carefully across your lips.

Your nails are red today, coming to a rounded point.

Ellie's tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip as her mind wanders. Those nails would make such pretty streaks in her back.

For some reason, the thought that she may be shamelessly staring at you doesn't cross her mind. Until it's too late that is. Ellie's eyes widen in absolute terror when your gaze catches hers, face dropping back to the crate of avocados she'd been pretending to look through a moment ago.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She definitely can't approach you today. Not after you'd caught her staring - no - gawking at you so blatantly. In fact, getting out of this godforsaken market has shot to the very top of her priority list, a task she seeks to accomplish quickly, with her head downcast in shame and embarrassment.

It's just her luck that instead of effectively making it out of the door she stumbles over the dragging, unraveled white laces of the run-down sneakers on her feet, toppling to the floor if not for the similarly misfortuned person she winds up tackling.

"Shit! Sorry, sorry, I-I'm so sorry" she stutters out, cringing at the sight of once unbruised red fruit hitting the hard tile of the market floor. Her eyes meet yours and again she's frozen and embarrassed, a deep shade of red splaying her freckled cheeks and tips of her ears. You would be angry if it weren't for how cute she looked. You sigh.

"It's fine, really. Just...make sure you look forward next time you're walking, okay?" The soft, reassuring smile you offer her as you speak damn near melts her where she stands.

"Right."

There's a beat of awkward silence, Ellie nervousely tugging at her ring and pinky fingers as she gives you a small hesitant nod. "I should-"

"Maybe you could help me pick out some new ones?" You ask quickly, interrupting her, gesturing to the strawberry littered tile.

It's the first time she's spoken to you and given her clear anxiety, she likely wouldn't end up speaking to you on her own again. Ellie nods quickly, mouth slightly agape, though at this point she's lost all of her words. She simply picks up the dropped berries, some of which are now a little flattened and soft on one side from the impact, standing straight once they're all gathered to help you get new baskets.

"You okay?" You ask, as Ellie hasn't said much of anything in the past few minutes.

"Oh, yeah...sorry just...a lot on my mind" she murmurs, quieting back down again as she attentively unpacks your produce.

She doesn't even know how she wriggled her way into this situation. She'd thought for sure you'd call her a freak or a psycho when you let her know you were aware of her little routine. Instead, you just suggested that she help you with the rest of your groceries.

"It's a bit of a hassle trying to bring them up to my apartment alone. Plus...you kinda owe me for the tackle, yeah?"

You had feared the boldness of your invitation may give her pause but Ellie agreed without reluctance.

"A lot on your mind? Like what?"

"Like...how you don't seem unnerved about...y'know." Ellie murmurs, leaning up against your kitchen counter, the little giggle you give in response sending her heart rate up.

"I was honestly just waiting to see if you would actually come speak to me"

"Wait, really?"

You turn to her from where you were organizing things in your fridge, a small bowl of freshly washed strawberries in hand. You set it down, gently sliding the bowl out toward Ellie as an invitation to take one, which she accepts, twisting at the leaves until they come off of the top before biting into it. It's quite large, and very sweet she notices, a bit of juice dribbling down her chin as her teeth sink in, her hand clumsily going to guard any more from falling down.

"Yeah." you answer, to which Ellie raises a questioning eyebrow.

"You're cute, Ellie." you clarify, playfully rolling your eyes at her obliviousness. " And messy"

Before she realizes it, you're in front of her, holding a napkin to her now berry juice-stained chin and neck, readying yourself to pat her dry. Your lips are incredibly close, dangerously so, but she does her best to ignore it, popping the rest of strawberry into her mouth before gently taking your hand in hers to stop you.

"I can- "

"Just let me, okay?" You chuckle a bit, shaking your head. "You really don't know when a girl is trying to flirt with you, huh?"

Ellie blinks, staring at you as if you've just said something ridiculous, her fruit filled cheek almost making her look like a chipmunk in the moment. The insistence on cleaning her up, the invitation to your apartment in the first place, the fact that you don't even seem to question her infatuation with you. It all makes sense now. And she'd taken way too long to notice.

There isn't a thought process behind Ellie's actions this time, just impulse as she leans forward, closing the distance between you both and crashing her lips onto yours. A shiver of shock runs through her as you reciprocate, regardless of how unideal the kiss may seem - cold, sticky fruit juice now being shared between the both of you, creating a thin coat of strawberry and saliva on your connected lips flowing down your chins and slowly making its way to the collars of your shirts.

Ellie pulls back enough to actually swallow what's left of the strawberry and breathe out a quick "I'm sorry", though a part of her is too fascinated by the look of you with transparent red fluid trailing along your skin to be genuinely apologetic.

"I don't mind a little mess." You whisper in response, swiping your thumb along her chin to collect some of the juic. Something about the girl being so desperate to kiss you that she was unconcerned about the inevitable messy nature of said kiss put butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You keep her pressed up against your kitchen counter as you allow yourself to give in to your desires, only dethatching your kiss-swollen lips from Ellie's to press opened mouth kisses along the column of her throat, licking at the sweet red liquid that's almost managed to make its way into the loose, black wifepleaser she's wearing.

"Y-you don't think this is happening too fast?" she questions, despite her clear willingness to let you do as you please, her words coming out between heavy breaths, her entire face painted a rosy shade of pink.

"Would you like me to stop?" You ask, eyebrow quirked upward as you halt your advances and look at her.

Ellie shakes her head immediately at that, tightening her grip around your waist. She can't help but think that was an idiotic question for her to ask anyways. This is finally her chance, and she refuses to fuck up by overthinking everything as she has been up until this point. Your lips connect again with no second guesses this time, Ellie taking her opportunity to slip her hands underneath your top, pulling it over your head. Her mouth takes to your skin, sloppily lapping at the strawberry juice flowing along your neck and pulling your bra straps down enough to expose your breasts.

"Fuck, Ellie"

You slip your leg between her thighs while she's occupied with "cleaning you up" with her tongue, reveling at the way she whimpers and attempts to resist the urge to roll her hips when your knee makes contact with her clothed cunt. Her attempts prove futile, of course, the poor girl huffing and moaning against your skin as she grinds herself against your leg.

"So fuckin' needy, weren't you?" You tease, unable to help the amused laugh that escapes you at the sight of the girl humping desperately at your knee.

All Ellie manages in response is a nod, whining even louder when you press against her harder, the seam of her shorts pushing up against her clit at the right angle, her movements becoming faster and more erratic.

"G'na make me cu- fuck fuck" Ellie's muscles tense for a moment before releasing again, short, ragged breaths and muffled grunts punctuating her last few thrusts against your leg as she finishes in her boxers. Embarrassed, she buries her face into the crook of your neck, her already blushed face becoming redder at her unintended quickness.

"Shit...sorry" She murmurs against your skin, not sure if she should even look you in the eye right now.

You stifle a giggle and shake your head, running your fingers through her soft, auburn hair as a means to reassure her before lacing your fingers with hers. With your free hand, you lift her chin so that she looks at you.

"It's okay. Doesn't mean I'm finished with you."

The softness of your tone seems to soothe her, though the bashfulness still lingers on her features, green eyes casting downward regardless of your words. You press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, and, fingers still intertwined, lightly tug her away from the kitchen counter on her wobbly legs over to the loveseat in your living room.

You lightly jerk your head in the direction of the sofa, letting go of her hand once she's seated. "Lay down for me baby"

Ellie, in all of her eagerness doesn't so much as hesitate, laying back onto the soft cushions, reaching out as if to pull you down with her. Instead of straddling her like she'd wanted you to though, you stay standing, a mischvieous giggle escaping as you lean down to kiss her on the lips once more before pulling back.

"What's wrong?" She asks, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Nothing El. Just relax, yeah?" You murmur in response, hands now focused on slipping off your shorts. That's answer enough for her, Ellie's eyes widening a little bit as they fixate on watching your lower body, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as you pull off your shorts and panties in one go. You were soaked, and you make sure to let her know it, teasingly trailing a finger through your folds before pressing it to her lips, Ellie gladly sucking the digit into her mouth without instruction.

"Aw, look at that, I didn't even have to ask"

Ellie just nods, pink lips still caught around your finger. She's well aware of how pathetic she looks right now, but she can't bring herself to care at this point as she's too busy savoring the taste of you on her tongue, eyes damn near rolling to the back of her head off that alone. When you take your finger out of her mouth she whines.

"Wanna taste you more... please"

Her pleading pulls a chuckle from your throat, your finger gently running across her bottom lip as you speak.

"God, you're so impatient, baby. Does my sweet girl want my pussy in her mouth, hm?"

She nods vigorously, grabbing at your hand again to pull you toward her. This time, you oblige, allowing the girl to guide you to sit on her face, her slender hands catching around your hips. She licks a bold stripe along your slit before pressing a kiss to your clit, the amount of times she's thought about doing that exact thing noe finally coming into practice.

Ellie eats at you like a woman starved, lapping up every drop of your arousal, her lips latching around your swollen clit and sucking at it. The sloppy, wet noises coming from her mouth on your cunt, the muffled moaning and whining escaping her - it's obnoxious. But it's the sexiest thing you've seen ina while, her gaze never leaving you as she buries herself closer to you. "This what you wanted, isn't it baby? Spent so much time watching me 'n all you could think about - fuck - was having that pretty mouth pressed up against my cunt like this?"

Your teasing is condescening, your hand tangling into her short locks, forcing her head nice and close as you rut yourself against her tongue. The poor thing can't stop herself from squirming, pressing her thighs together, and for a moment, even detatching a hand from your thigh and snaking it down her own body to slip her hand into her shorts. You don't notice it at first, but when you do, it's clear to her you aren't having it.

"Nuh-uh, none of that, pretty girl." You lift up into a hover above her head, reaching back and wrapping your hand around her wrist to stop her. She whines again, her frustration obvious in the line that forms between her brows. "You wanna ask this time?"

"S-sorry, you're just so fucking sexy, I need you to touch me, please"

You have half a mind to make her wait longer. To pin her hands over her head and prop yourself back onto her mouth, but an idea comes to mind that you can't just ignore. You giggle, giving her a simple 'okay' and before she knows it you've shifted on top of her, settling yourself into a hover over her face again, but this time facing the opposite direction. She can't see what your doing, but she feels it when you start sliding her shorts and boxers down before leaning down and spitting on her already glistening cunt.

"Oh my fucking god..."

Ellie's thighs are shaking around your head already, her hands gripping at the fat of your ass as she pulls you back down onto her mouth. Your muffled cries of pleasure fill the apartment, the vibrations from her moans against you only serving to drive you insane. A thin layer of sweat coats your bodies as you chase a simultaneous orgasm, hips bucking and rolling against each others tongues with primal urgency as that familiar coil tightens within your lower stomachs.

"Fuckfuckfuck- coming, I'm coming" Ellie's mouth detatches from you as she's the first to go, her trembling legs clamping around your head and trapping you against her. She's shockingly quick to replace her mouth with her fingers, slipping them inside of you without warning. She's almost as despereate to have you cum on her face as she was to cum herself, and to her luck, you unravel above her soon after. Her mouth comes back to you are you finish, lapping up every single drop of cum you give her, fingers still lazily pumping in and out of your dripping hole.

It takes a bit to float back down to reality, your head resting limp on her thigh as you slowly start to catch your breath, twitching and shaking too much to actually move on your own. Ellie's not much better, her head plopped down onto the couch cushion, gently kneading your ass with her hands and pressing sleepy kisses to your inner thighs. When you're finally able to move, it's not much, only adjusting yourself enough so that your faces are level, nuzzling your body close so that you can both lay next to each other on the couch. There's a peacful silence between the both of you for a while, your foggy brains still processing how far you'd gotten with one another in the span of a few hours.

"So...you really like me then? Like actually?" Ellie breathes out, a hand lightly rubbing along your side.

You laugh and give her a playful punch to the arm, the fact that she even felt the need to ask that almost comical to you after everything.

"Ow! What was that for?" She asks, feigning as if the light hit actually hurt.

"Of course I like you, dummy" You murmur, kissing her cheek. "I've liked you the whole time"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

#☆kennie's works #lesbian #tlou2 #wlw #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #loser!ellie #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #tlou ellie

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