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tired-biscuit · 5 months ago

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I licked it so it’s mine

pairing: stepbrother!yuuji/fem!reader

premise: After a long day of work, you decide to make use of the empty house by having some drinks and a movie night with your older stepbrother. Eventually, one drink turns into two, two become three, and so on. As the buzz of the alcohol progressively fills you with more and more courage, interesting things commence.

cw: 18+ MDNI. stepcest, ‘in the flurry of the moment’ setting, no curses AU, characters are in their 20s, intoxication, dubcon, implied corruption, coersion and pressuring from reader, descriptions of size difference, manhandling and roughness — poor yuuji gets a little too into it in the end.

wc: 6.7k

divider credit: @/adornedwithlight

———

Your big stepbrother Yuuji is likeable. He always has been.

To be fair, what is there not to like? When it comes to his looks, Yuuji is tall, handsome, a proud owner of a pair of pretty honey-coloured eyes that make him resemble a puppy, and an even prettier smile. Every summer, his skin gets this wonderful, almost golden tan that makes him outright glow from within, and his face gets sun-kissed, causing his already rosy cheeks to get dotted with tiny, barely visible freckles that gather under his eyes and only enhance his cuteness.

However, after living with him for so long, you’ve since learned that he rarely actually pays attention to his appearance, much less dresses to impress.

After all, Yuuji is a simple man. He does not care about clothes besides the level of comfort they provide, and yet he still somehow manages to achieve victory. Catching girls checking him out when he’s in nothing but his trusty pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt is a common occurrence. Even listening to flustered whispers and giggles has turned into a regular thing at this point.

On top of all that, he’s also nice. Kind and open and warm – you could use so many more positive words to describe your stepbrother’s wonderful personality, but you’re pretty sure that they’d never do it justice. Perhaps the only bad thing you could say about him is that he’s too nice. Too helpful and giving.

Especially towards the people who don’t deserve it.

And as you watch him from the corner of your eye now, hanging out at the park and licking the ice cream that he’d treated you to as a reward for beating him in his favourite video game, you try to consider yourself as one of the people who do deserve his everlasting kindness. Who do deserve to be treated nicely by him, and to hear the laughter in his voice, and to accept his almost naive generosity.

It’s a nice day out today. The wooden park bench that you’re sitting on currently is warm from the setting sun that still filters through the leaves above your heads. Small, moving patches of light and shadow linger everywhere, causing you to stare, almost mesmerized, as some of them lazily continue to dance across your big brother’s face.

Yuuji’s arms are splayed wide open and draped on either side of the worn backrest that you’re both leaning against. He’s finished his ice cream ages ago, so now he’s got his legs outstretched and his head angled up towards the sky, enjoying the peaceful tranquility that this year’s summer brings.

There are quite a few people out and about in the park during this time of day – most of them joggers and dog walkers that are using the slightly cooler temperatures to their benefit – but if you listen closely, you can make out distant shouting and laughter coming from a group of children who are occupying the playground that’s on the other side of the trees.

The sound makes you feel kind of old, so you zero in on your sandals to keep yourself busy.

“Remember when you used to scream like that?”

“What?”

When you turn your head to the side again, Yuuji’s gaze looks expectant.

“Back when we were kids,” he explains, jerking his chin towards the direction of the playground. “You got all shrieky and high-pitched whenever it was my turn to chase you, remember? Made you sound like a deflating balloon just by running in your direction.”

“Oh!” You take another lick of your ice cream, fully flattening the scoop before sinking your teeth into the edge of the cone. The scent of strawberries fills your nose in an instant. “In my defense, that probably happened because I didn’t like playing tag with you all that much.”

He quirks an eyebrow at this, intrigued. “How so?”

“Well, for starters, your legs were longer than mine, which made you catch up so fast that it wasn’t fun for me anymore. Aaand your hands were also always sticky for some reason,” you reply, still chewing on the wafer. “It was gross.”

“Wow, okay.” He rolls his eyes but it immediately gets followed by a brief chuckle that escapes his lips. “Excuse me for trying to be a little bit sentimental with my clean freak of a baby sister.”

“I’m normal… You’re just nasty,” you fire back, smiling when he goes to playfully shove you.

His hand is warm when it lands on your shoulder; so warm, in fact, that you can feel the rise in temperature even through the sleeve of the thin, cropped T-shirt that you’ve put on this morning.

It doesn’t take you by surprise. For as long as you’ve known him, Yuuji has been one to have blood as hot as molten lava running through his veins. You’re unsure how he survives it whenever the weather is scorching hot, like today for example – August has always proved to be a bitch whenever it comes to heat – but so far he seems to be doing just fine.

And while it may be weird to some, him being hot-blooded is the reason why you sometimes like to drag him into your bed during the winter months, when it’s cold and you come back home from work feeling like your toes have turned half-frozen in your shoes. Besides being provided with good company, he’s also like your own personal heater.

And that’s it. There’s nothing else to it; how could it be when he’s your stepbrother, for crying out loud! You grew up together and have lived under the same roof for years. He’s walked into your room just to leave the lights on and the door open so many times. You’ve endured his godawful Fortnite phase and have seen him be at his worst just as he did with you. The only feelings that you harbour for him are strictly platonic.

You’re both pretty set on that.

“I should take that ice cream from ya as a form of punishment for being so mean to me,” said stepbrother teases now, pulling you back from your thoughts. When you look up at him, he’s grinning like a little boy. From ear to ear and in a way that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Cute.

“Nu-uh,” you respond, allowing the evidently distrustful tone to lace your voice. “I licked it so it’s mine.”

“Tsch.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Like that’s ever been an issue before. C’mon, give.”

“It is for me because unlike you, I’m not- Hey!” Before you can finish your sentence, he swipes the ice cream from your hand, successfully stealing it right in front of your nose.

You glare at him now, brow slightly furrowed in annoyance, as Yuuji proceeds to lick the melting sweet with exaggerated delight. Since whatever was left of the scoop sank deeper into the cone, you realize that you’re unexpectedly intrigued by the fact that he needs to push his tongue out a little more to get to it.

And he does; of course he does. He twirls it across the flat, creamy surface, and it’s not long before the inside of his mouth is coated in milky pink and there’s a hum of overly satisfied approval sounding from the back of his throat.

You’re unsure how to feel about the entire thing, but you definitely don’t dwell on it.

“Mmm,” he purrs, squeezing his eyes shut. He even makes sure to go as far as to smack his lips. “Mmm-mmm-mm! So good.”

For whatever reason, you feel your stomach do a weird spin as you listen to the sounds he’s making now. It’s like there’s an instant flash of heat searing through your body, similar to the pesky one that you get in the middle of the night when you’re hormonal and on your period, but before you can even properly acknowledge it, it’s gone as fast as it came.

“Again: you’re so gross,” you manage to say with a huff that’s supposed to be disapproving but doesn’t sound like that at all. The shake of your head that you add to the jab also feels somewhat unnatural. Every one of your mannerisms does, actually.

Yuuji, seemingly blissfully ignorant of your inner turmoil, laughs before he takes a giant bite out of the side of the cone and finally hands it back to you.

“Hey, at least my hands ain’t sticky this time.”

———

The house is empty when you come back home that evening.

This too is not much of a surprise, really. Your parents have been gone for the last couple of days, enjoying their yearly vacation to the seaside that neither you nor Yuuji could attend this time because of your work schedules.

So while your mom and his dad are basking in the sun and drinking sugary cocktails, you’re waking up at six in the morning every day to make it to your dull desk job in time, and he’s stuck flipping burgers at McDonalds and honing his social skills in the drive-through booth for eight hours every day.

Poor, poor you.

“Did you see the drinks they’re having over there? Gosh,” Yuuji grumbles on this exact topic as he throws himself onto the couch and flicks the TV on. His expression looks mildly conflicted at the list of movies he’s being offered by the streaming service you’re both leeching off of, but it eases back into neutral as soon as he rests his feet atop the coffee table and crosses his ankles. “They even had those fancy umbrellas on the top and everythin’.”

“There, there,” you say, quickly patting his knee before sitting down beside him. You’re not sure why, but you pay extra attention to the small sliver of distance that you keep between his leg and your own now. The feeling from earlier didn’t fully go away yet, so touching him or him touching you still feels kind of odd.

Meanwhile, Yuuji doesn’t seem to acknowledge it at all, because now he’s resting his head against your shoulder, invading your personal space whilst he pouts.

The action is nothing unusual for him – it’s normal, he does it all the time – and yet you still swallow thickly, trying to ignore the sudden hyper awareness.

“What is it now, you big baby?” you manage to muster out, taking the remote from him.

“Eh… It’s nothing,” he says.

“Aha,” you say.

“Well… It’s just that I want nachos and cocktails with fancy umbrellas, too!” he bristles at your prodding, pressing the side of his face even further into your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek because of it.

“We have nachos at home,” you utter, trying to avoid the ticklish sensation.

“Yeah. Shitty tortilla chips that come in a bag, with a side of tasteless dip from the fridge,” he quips. “Yum.”

You stifle your laughter. He’s making such a big deal out of a silly thing like nachos. “I’m pretty sure they all come in a bag, Yuu… Come to think of it, theirs are probably stored in one of those big, wholesale bags that most food places get.”

“Well, I want the wholesale ones, then.”

“You’re pretty set on this, huh?”

He just gives you a look.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you ramble, pulling back just enough to make him lift his head and look at you properly. “How about… we try to make semi-decent nachos and cocktails with what we have, and have ourselves a little movie night since we’re both off work tomorrow and we definitely deserve it after all the pain and suffering we’re going through?”

Yuuji muses. “All you do at your job is sit behind a desk all day.”

You feel your eyes narrow. “So?”

“So,” he says, sounding smug. “I’d hardly call that pain and suffering.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you chide. “I wasn’t aware that your job also consisted of crawling underneath barbed wire and coming face to face with excruciating death between all those burgers you flip.”

He pokes you in the side for the insult. After jumping a little bit at the ticklish sensation, you make sure to immediately return the favour.

“Do you want those cocktails or not, Ronald McDonald?”

Yuuji stretches his arms above his head and yawns before he gets ready to stand up. “Yeah, yeah… Let’s make ‘em fancy.”

He follows you into the kitchen then, where you both work to recreate the vacation food and drinks to the best of your – and your pantry’s – capabilities.

The nachos end up being surprisingly decent after you sprinkle some shredded cheese on top and give them a spin in the microwave. The cocktails, on the other hand, are a mixture of cheap wine from the corner store and coke, adorned with pieces of sliced pineapple at the top because you sadly ran out of cute paper umbrellas, much to Yuuji’s disappointment.

Though in the end, everything works out just fine.

You have yourselves a nice, perhaps you could even call it relaxing kind of evening. You change into your comfortable pyjama shorts and tank top, he gets rid of his T-shirt because he prefers being shirtless during the summer, and you play a couple rounds of his favourite game again; all of which you lose because Yuuji decides that he isn’t holding back this time. Afterwards, you watch a movie that isn’t all that good necessarily, but isn’t half bad either, and take rather hefty sips of your makeshift cocktails.

By the time the credits start to roll, you’re both feeling a little buzzed and warm in the face. Neither of you feels like calling it a night just yet, though – being off work the next day at the same time happens so rarely, after all – so you decide on watching something equally as uneventful and drinking some more.

So that is how both yourself and Yuuji end up drinking more than you’d initially planned. The alcohol becomes easier to swallow down when you’ve already numbed out your taste buds and have adapted them to the cheap, shitty wine flavour. It even makes the pineapple slices look cool.

And now you’re both drunk. Not shitfaced, per se, but definitely more than tipsy. Enough that it’s making your vision a little bit blurry around the edges, your limbs soft and pliant, and your mind fuzzy. Enough that it’s making you feel like you could do just about anything you’d set your mind to.

You’re both giggling like morons as you sit cross-legged and face each other on the couch. He’s desperately trying to tell you a story about one of his co-workers, who, according to him, is supposed to be very weird, but he keeps on slurring his words and keeps on losing track so often that it’s making the entire thing outright incomprehensive.

“Dude-” Your voice falters as yet another set of giggles pushes its way out. Goddamn alcohol. “You have got to stop laughing and tell me whatever it is you want to tell me about this weirdo, because if you don’t, I swear to god that I’m going to fucking lose my shit.”

“Listen… Jus’ listen-”

“I am listening, you dumbass!” you interrupt, reaching over to flick his forehead. He flinches at the action.

“No, but like,” he mumbles now, rubbing the aching spot. “I want to tell you, but at the same time… I kind of don’t.”

This instantly succeeds in sparking your interest. There’s something he’s unsure about telling you? How curious; you tell each other everything!

You lean forward slightly, resting your elbows on your knees. “How so?”

Yuuji’s eyes flicker towards the television for a quick second. The movie is still playing – it bathes half of his face with light and the other half in shadows.

Much to your bafflement, he sheepishly bites his lip before he says, “‘Cause it’s a secret.”

“A secret? Really?” You groan as you grab the small decorative pillow just so that you can throw it his way. Despite his intoxicated state, he’s still rather quick to deflect it. It lands on the ground soundlessly.

“What was that for?” he asks now, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, I dunno,” you say, bristling. “Did it maybe ever cross your mind that telling me that is only gonna make me want to hear it more?”

“I mean,” he says, scratching the back of his head and shrugging. “I guess…?”

You give him a pointed glare. “You know how much I love secrets, Yuu!”

“I know.”

“Then tell me!”

“No.”

You pout in answer, clearly unsatisfied.

Yuuji looks at you, his expression slipping into something that’s a bit more sincere and apologetic. He watches as you continue to avoid eye contact and push out your bottom lip, clearly trying to appear upset as much as you possibly can in order to get him to change his mind.

Sooner or later, it ends up working.

A person like him is so giving… Who is he to ever tell you no?

“Oh, fine,” he says, sighing with defeat. “Just pinky promise that you won’t tell anyone, okay?”

Your grin is pleasantly lazy because of the alcohol that’s still coursing your veins as you chirp, “Of course.”

He hooks your pinkies together and shakes them from side to side lightly as if it’ll help solidify the promise better.

“So, what’s the secret?” you ask when you pull your hand back and use it to support your cheek.

After a short moment of silence, he finally forces himself to blurt out, “My co-worker, he, uh… He thinks you’re hot.”

You stare at him, arching one eyebrow. “Wait, that’s it?”

Yuuji can feel his entire face tingling with heat now. The blush that steadily continues to bloom makes his skin slightly itchy, but he refrains from scratching it. “Yeah, that’s it.”

You watch him closely.

“What?” he inquires, not liking the fact that you aren’t saying anything. The flush of red has crept down to his neck now.

“You’re lying,” you reply at long last, expression blank.

He sputters when he inhales a sharp breath, ready to defend himself. “Am not!”

You throw another pillow at him. He avoids this one, too. “Are too!”

“Stop throwing stuff at me!”

“I will, if you tell me the secret!”

“I already did!”

“The actual secret, dumbass!”

“Fine… Fine! Ugh,” he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “He also said that, umm…”

You enthusiastically gesture at him to continue when his voice fades into nothing again. Curiosity is threatening to eat you alive at this point. “Yes? He said what?”

“He said-” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows thickly. “He basically told me that if you were his stepsister, that he would’ve been all over you ages ago. Or whatever.”

You stare at him once more. He stares right back.

“What?” he asks again, this time slightly more nervous. His pupils are huge and the blush is starting to make him sweat. “What is it?”

After a moment that seems like forever, you repeat, “...That’s it?”

Yuuji feels like his heart has dropped to his ass. “What d’you mean that’s it?!”

“Exactly what I said,” you say, shrugging. “Your co-worker has a ‘Oh no, stepbro, I’m stuck’ fantasy. So what?”

“I-” Yuuji’s eyebrows draw so tightly together until there’s a small v etched between them. He pauses for a long time before he says, “Don’t you think that’s weird, though?”

“Not really.” You take another small sip from your glass and place it back onto the coffee table. “I mean, have you never noticed how popular it is in porn? Lots of people are into that kind of stuff.”

“N-no…” He stutters, somehow succeeding in turning even redder in the face. “I don’t-”

“Watch porn?” you offer quickly, already rolling your eyes.

“Not porn like that,” he quips, suddenly sounding uncharacteristically snippy.

You chuckle at the tone he uses, attempting to tame the upward curl of your lips. Things are getting interesting and dirty – something you don’t get to encounter a lot whenever it comes to golden boy over here. “Well, what kind of porn do you watch, then?”

Oh, that is very bold. If it weren’t for the liquid courage, you doubt you’d dare ask the question. But it’s out in the open now.

Hanging in the tense air that’s between you two. Waiting. Preying.

“Not the stepsister kind,” he says in a low mutter, surprising you that he even chose to answer. “I’m not into that.”

You can’t help but let the smile show now. “How can you know if you’ve never seen it?”

Yuuji gawks before letting out a nervous laugh. “...What?”

“I said,” you repeat, leaning ever so slightly closer. Enough to make him feel on edge, but not enough to scare him away. “How can you know that you’re not into it-” There’s another pause, another closing of distance. His freckles are visible now. “If you’ve never seen it? Hmm?”

“I just-” He tenses up when your knee bumps into his. The short moment of contact is electrifying for some reason; it jumpstarts his heart into a far quicker rhythm. “I just, uh, do.”

You look him directly in his sweet honey eyes. “Yeah?”

And he immediately rushes to break eye contact. “Yeah.”

“You know,” you trail off innocently, patting his knee this time instead of ‘accidentally’ bumping it. Unlike before, though, your hand remains on his leg. “For someone who swears up and down to not be into it… You really don’t sound so sure about it to me.”

“Well, I am,” he protests in a heartbeat, however the bite that’s supposed to be in the statement isn’t quite there.

The reason behind it might be because he’s quite tipsy and can’t bring himself to be firm with you. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because he’s staring at his lap when he says it; right at the spot where you’re still touching him.

Your hand feels so warm as it sits on his thigh. And pleasant.

He doesn’t exactly… want it to go away.

You watch as he huffs in defeat and shakes his head with evident frustration the thought must have evoked. It causes a giggle to bubble up your throat from how entertained you are. You don’t even try to stop it this time.

He could tell you off, call you names, push you away, whatever… But he doesn’t.

No, he’s just too good of a big brother.

So you allow the flat of your palms to rest on both of his knees now. Still careful, though not nearly as much as before. Meanwhile, your own knees dig into the softness of the couch as you readjust your weight forward so that you can lift yourself just enough to be eye level with him.

Guilty anticipation pools inside his gut and turns him frazzled when you use the momentum to invade his personal space even further. All of a sudden, you find yourself nose to nose with your cutesy stepbrother. Chest to chest. So close that he can feel the heat of your breath on his lips and smell the fading scent of your perfume mixing with thin layers of sweat and sunscreen.

“Prove it, then,” you say. Your voice could barely be considered above a whisper but the silence that follows after it is so loud.

Yuuji gulps from how unnerving this entire situation has become. Gulps. “Prove… Prove what?”

“Prove that you’re not into it.”

Thump, thump, thump! His heart is going wild. “How?”

“Watch it with me.” You move your hands upwards ever so slightly as you speak the words, but it’s not long before you’re sliding them all the way up to his thighs.

They’re strong, his legs, and the muscles in them flex and harden underneath your touch, making the lines of his gorgeous, so profoundly male-like physique all the more defined. The hairs there are lighter in colour and they’re silky smooth. They tickle the tips of your fingers when you finally let them settle at the very edge of his gym shorts.

Digging your nails into his skin just enough to make him jump a little, you add, “Please?”

God, you’re so drunk and… something else. Your pupils are huge; so big that Yuuji swears he can see himself in them, and the laugh you let out a moment later is girlish and kind of breathless.

And he, well, he just looks so goddamn confused in response to it. Like a little puppy that’s been caught doing something naughty and bad. Big, round eyes, twitchy upper lip and everything.

“I, umm… I dunno,” he chokes out finally. He feels like coughing so that he can clear his throat, but he somehow manages to stifle the annoying sensation. “I just… I’m not so sure about that-”

“Pleeease, Yuuji,” you repeat, pushing, pushing, pushing. You even start pouting right at him as a means to get him to budge. “I wanna!”

Fuck.

The whine that’s appeared in your voice now makes his cock involuntarily twitch. What the actual fuck, his dick is responding to you – his baby sister. Little by little, blood is rushing south; right below his waistline until he can feel warmth slowly taking over every inch of his lower half. He tries to make it stop, to put an end to it, to slow it down at the very least, but his efforts prove to be completely useless.

His throat feels scratchy and dry now from not allowing himself to cough, and his skin feels too tight on his face. It makes him rasp as he says, “You, uh, you wanna?”

“Mhmm,” you purr in a mere instant, squeezing his thighs again just the tiniest bit. Goddammit, since when did those parts start feeling so fucking sensitive? “Wanna… wanna see you start sweating a little when you realize that your dick is getting hard over dirty shit like stepcest, you know? Wanna prove you wrong.”

A second twitch, a second rush of blood. Yuuji’s stomach spins and tightens with anxiety. His nerves go haywire. With each passing second, he can feel his cock getting heavier in his shorts. Can feel pre-cum turning the front of his underwear more and more sticky. Can feel his mind going dizzy with quick-paced lust.

You’re just so goddamn close. Staring right at him, with your tits almost on full display in that tiny thing you call a shirt, and with that infuriating, shit-eating smirk plastered on your lips. Kneeling right between his legs, talking about stepbrothers fucking stepsisters, allowing your breaths to intermingle as if it’s no big deal.

But that’s not all. Besides being too close for comfort, he’s also pretty sure that you’re quietly hinting at the possibility of something happening tonight, like letting him stuff your pussy with his cock. Hell, forget stuffing – even just seeing it would be nice.

Not that he’s ever thought about laying eyes on his sister’s cunt, much less filling it, but now that this entire thing is unfolding in real time, before his very eyes, and he swears that he can feel the tips of your fingers subtly brushing against the ridge of his hard-on over his clothes… He doesn’t feel like refusing the idea necessarily, if it were to actually happen.

Fuuuck!

“It-it won’t,” Yuuji stammers in one last attempt at keeping his sense of morality, however all he does is end up fumbling over his own damn self like some pathetic loser. He’s so red in the face, it’s obvious now. “I, ah, I already told you-”

His sentence gets interrupted by a sudden kiss that you press right onto his still half-open mouth.

You don’t know what exactly it is that compels you to do it, but here you are. Kissing your big brother. Latching yourself to him. Offering him things you shouldn’t.

Oh, here you are, all right.

The kiss itself is clumsy, rash, idiotic. Your teeth clash as you hurry forward to wrap your arms around his neck, and there’s a small, muffled noise – that terribly sounds like a squeal of excitement – escaping your lips when his big hands find your waist and he yanks you forward until you’re fully seated on his lap.

One second ago you were merely looking at each other, tip-toeing the line but never quite overstepping it, and now you’re grinding against one another like animals in heat, tangling tongues and tasting each other’s spit. Everything happens so fast and it’s all based on pure instinct and executed with zero thinking, because if it happened any other way, you’d surely regret it.

He tastes like pineapple and the lousy chewing gum that he bought back at the corner store earlier in the afternoon but spat out pretty soon after. You shouldn’t find the odd combination of flavours that good, you know this, but right now the inside of his mouth tastes like sweet, sweet heaven.

And possible release.

“Fuck, Yuu,” you pant between messy kisses, running your fingers along his undercut. “You’re so hard, look… Proves me right, mm?”

Yuuji wants to tell you to shut up, to stop saying things like that, to stop making him feel both so guilty and turned on at the same time because it’s complicated and he doesn’t fucking know what to make of it.

But all he ends up saying instead is, “Yeah...”

Because, as always, he’s simply too good of a big brother. Too good to tell you no.

Especially when you’re right.

And even if your big brother’s cock is hiding underneath several layers of clothing, you can still feel it pressing firmly between your legs now. Thick and heavy and in urgent need of some tender affection; a little sisterly love, if you will. It’s making you grow more and more expectant of what’s to come. There’s no space for shame left.

His size seems promising – at least judging by the feel of it. Each time you push your weight against him, circling your hips a little, he responds by pushing you down even further with the help of his hands on your hips; spreading your folds slightly apart and allowing the seam of your shorts to dig straight into your clit.

Your breathing grows laboured because of it. Slowly but surely, you’re becoming a hot mess of mm’s and ahh’s. And Yuuji, poor, sweet Yuuji, is nowhere near to being any better after he’s forced to hear all of it.

He’s sweating like crazy. Is throbbing between his legs. Is trying to tame his pulse but it just keeps on hammering and ringing inside his ears. The blush is making his entire face itch all over again and his clothes feel too tight on his body. What else is there?

Oh, even his heart feels like it’s jammed itself inside his throat when he pulls back just enough to break the string of saliva that’s bridging the narrow space between your mouths and asks, “You sure you wanna do this?”

“Just fuck me already, god,” you hiss in response. You’re so sexually frustrated that it’s making you pissy.

Neither of you has planned this nor expected this to happen, but you’ve both been feeling lonely, terribly single; are yearning to be touched. It’s been a while for the two of you, shit happens and people get too busy to enjoy the simpler pleasures in life, and you both consider the other to be attractive, so… why not?

Why not? Maybe because this entire thing could, quite possibly, be a disaster in the making.

Still, it doesn’t feel like a disaster when Yuuji’s hands wrap around your sides and slam you down on the couch. Doesn’t feel like a bad thing when he blindly hooks his fingers to the waistband of your shorts and you bring your legs closer to your chest and lift your hips a little so that he can tug them off easier.

Either he’s too impatient to wait or he did it by complete accident, but he manages to pull down your panties right along with your shorts. They’re both left dangling from your left ankle now, hanging uselessly and completely forgotten because he’s too busy trying to push himself inside you.

His back is hunched and his rosy lips are parted as he sucks in and exhales sharp breaths above you. They fan your forehead, cooling the sweat that’s gathered there, only causing you to shiver.

You press your foreheads together when you lift yourself slightly with the help of your elbows so that you can reach between you, tug his waistband low just enough to expose him and guide him inside you. He grits his teeth, baring them like a threatened animal as soon as your fingers curl around the base of his cock, mindlessly stroking the impressive length, spreading the pre-cum that’s gathered at the tip without any sense of patience.

Neither of you looks into each other’s eyes; all of your attention is aimed at the spot where you almost connect. After all, his fat cockhead is bumping against your sticky pussy now, inconsistently gliding up and down and smearing arousal. Every time he teases your entrance, your breath hitches in the back of your throat and you cling onto him a little harder.

“Yuujiii,” you whine, teeth sinking into your bottom lip so harshly that you fear you might have drawn blood. He almost doesn’t recognize the sound of your voice. “What’re you waiting for?! Put it iiin!”

“Yeah… Y-yeah, okay,” he bites out, trying to stop the persistent flutter of a muscle in his cheek. His arms feel like giving in but the muscles in his biceps still flex and shudder with anxiety and anticipation when he finally presses in.

His cockhead pushes past the initial ring of muscle pretty effortlessly from how wet you’ve gotten from mere kissing and a little bit of grinding. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that’s making you so pliant and eager, but it’s easy to open your legs wider so that you can let in even more of him.

Yuuji feels dizzy; like the entire world is spinning. You’re underneath him, panting so loudly and you’re so warm inside, so accepting, so wet. Your pussy hugs him just right, walls squeezing around his girth, sucking him in further. The sensation makes him drop his entire weight right on top of your writhing body the second he allows himself to slowly rock into you and sink balls deep.

He hides his face into the crook of your neck as he begins to lazily thrust inside you, doing whatever feels best because he can’t possibly bring himself to form thoughts right now. In and out, the strokes are long, slow and deep. So deep, in fact, that they make you wince each time he hits the sweet spot that’s hiding inside.

You’ve ended up so close yet again; with your limbs intertwined and your bodies pressed tightly together that your shirt is crinkling between you. It rides up with the movement of his hips slamming against your own, exposing your stomach, making you stick to each other from how sweaty you’ve gotten.

“Nngh… You feel… s’good,” he grits out, quiet moaning already lacing his voice. His breathing has gotten so heavy that it’s creating moisture on the small patch of skin on your neck that he’s got his mouth pressed against. “Won’t last long… Ca-ah… Can’t.”

He sounds so fucking drunk as he continues to say pure nonsense into the side of your throat and keeps on pressing you into the softness of the couch. Not only on alcohol, but also on your pussy it seems.

It makes him practically start pounding into you now. Abusing your tight little hole. He slips one arm underneath you and pulls you even closer so that he can steady himself a little bit, and wetness squelches between you as a result. Skin slaps against skin, breaths intermingle. His fingers tangle into your hair crudely – it hurts when he tugs at the roots even if you’re well aware that he doesn’t mean to.

He’s so big above you. So strong. So stupidly male. And he’s also gotten lost in the moment. For a second it makes you scared of him a little bit even if he’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met, a real proper marshmallow. And it doesn’t help that his cock is as big as the rest of him is; stretching you so deliciously, splitting you wide open, causing tears to prickle at the corners of your eyes even if the booze that’s coursing your veins is supposed to numb you out to a size like that.

“Yuuji, wa- fuck, wait…!” You cross your ankles at his waist in an attempt to slow him down, heels panically digging into his back dimples and toes curling.

“N-no, I can’t, please… Don��t make me wait, please, please, please, c’mon,” he babbles, still not slowing down, not stopping. His eyes are half-closed and they show concern, but they’re also dark and foggy when he lifts his head just enough to look at you. “Just a lil’ more, yeah…? Yeah? Just a lil’... Ugh, keep still just a bit longer- I’m almost there. So… mmh… close.”

You try to fight against him, tugging on his hair and sinking your nails into his back, but all he does is endure it, not really caring much about your thrashing and turning. He’s got you caged underneath him, crying out his name, clawing raw red lines into his broad back. It’s all drunken breeding instinct and no brain as he uses your body like a toy, and the realization that you can do nothing but take it is terrifying as much as it is thrilling.

His pounding has turned borderline ruthless by now and in his urgency to cum, he’s pushed himself so deep inside you that you’re pretty sure he’s fucked his way straight into your goddamn womb. In his weak attempt to make you last until the end, he’s even started to messily rub irregular circles into your clit.

It makes a thin line of drool dribble down the corner of your mouth from how fucked out you’ve become in a mere fifteen minutes. The overstimulation is probably completely accidental, but it achieves the same result just the same. He outright forces the climax out of your body, and the second he feels you squeeze around him, abused pussy trying to milk him dry, he’s giving in, not resisting anymore, shooting his load inside you in an instant.

The groan he lets out is almost like a growl. He arches his back again, balls tightening, grip almost turning iron-like. You can feel the warmth of his cum as it fills you in steady waves of pleasure.

You both stay still for a long while after that, trying to gather your senses, attempting to calm down your trembling. His cum is warm and sticky; tacky between your thighs. It starts to drip out of your hole by the time his cock softens enough to create more space.

There’s just so much of it. A fuckload.

And he’s still breathing so hard. You both are.

“I’m so sorry… Fuck, I-” he rasps out. His mouth is so dry that he feels like he could chug an entire jug of water, but he pushes that need away for now in order to get a good look at you instead. “I just- I-”

Yuuji stops mid-sentence when he sees you push two of your fingers between your legs before bringing them up in front of your face again. He watches, eyelids heavy, as you spread them then, toying with the glimmery, cloudy white substance that’s gathered there until you gently push them inside your mouth, licking his release right off of your fingertips.

His jaw almost hits the floor. He’s so baffled by what he’s just seen that he barely registers the fact that his cock is trying to get hard again, throbbing against his thigh.

“What?” is all you say in response to the incredulous look that sits on his face now. Your voice is muffled from the way you keep your mouth stuffed full.

“I licked it so it’s mine.”

#yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuji x reader #yuji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuuji itadori smut #cw stepcest #cw dubcon #biscuit fics

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sweetiecutie · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, headlock🤤, unprotected sex, creampie, a bit of fluff at the end

A/n: as promised, as soon as I came out of the cinema I started working on this! It’s not as nasty as I wanted it to be, but I’ll work on that🩷

Your bedroom smelled strongly of sex and sweat, loud moans along with praise mixed with degrading were bouncing off the tall walls, surely gaining the two of you a few noise complaints the next day. You were splayed in the middle of your huge queen-sized bed, head pressed into soft pillows and ass high up in the air as your boyfriend was dogging the shit out of you, making sure that your pussy was raw and thoroughly fucked.

You’ve been at it for hours - your sheets were wet with sweat and other bodily fluids, your ass felt hot from all the spanks Miguel generously delivered. Your throat felt sore from all the moaning and previous face-fucking, musky taste of Miguel’s cock still lingered on your tongue. You felt like a rag doll in your lover’s strong arms, too tired to move by yourself, but too greedy for pleasure to actually stop this sweet torture.

Miguel yanked your hips up higher, getting a firm grip on your waist; he shifted a bit, placing one foot on the mattress for better range of movements. A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your kiss-swollen lips as brunette absolutely ravaged you - he pounded your poor dripping pussy with so much vigor that your body shifted forward with each thrust, heavy balls slapping against your clammy skin with loud smacking sounds. Miguel’s large hands moved to smack your pretty ass so it jiggled in his palms, relishing to grab and mold your pliable flesh afterwards.

- Just look at this greedy pussy, taking every inch of me like a cock-hungry slut. Bet you were thinking about it whole day long, huh? - Miguel rasped above you, his filthy words caused heat rising up to your cheeks as you buried your face even deeper into soft pillows, but they couldn’t hide your reddened ears form his sharp eyes.

Miguel leaned down, one massive arm sliding underneath your neck, so that your chin was tucked right in the hollow of his elbow; a few moments later your face was squished in between male’s bulking bicep and a thick forearm, trapped in a firm headlock. He put most of his body weight onto your small body, pounding your dripping cunt into the bouncy mattress, stretching you out on his mighty girth, making your eyes roll back in intense pleasure. You felt Miguel’s free hand slipping underneath your tummy, finding your throbbing needy clit in no time and massaging it brutally with rough fingertips, matching the roughness of his hips slamming into you from behind.

- Oh baby, you’re drooling, - Miguel tutted in feigned pity, his hot lips brushing the shell of your ear, making hairs on the back of your neck rise.

His words brought you out of heavy haze of pleasure, bringing some consciousness to your foggy mind. And, indeed, your chin felt cooler because of your drool covering it, some even dribbled down onto Miguel’s arm, getting in between your chin and his inner elbow. Your hands came to his arm around your neck, fingers digging into firm muscles, leaving crescent-shaped marks on scarred skin.

- Mig..uel, I’m-

- Shhh, my love. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you, - Miguel shushed you softly, his hips slapping against your ass with even more vigor, making you momentarily forget whatever it was that you wanted to say.

He hissed as he felt your velvety walls clenching around him, the suckle of your pussy sent his hips bucking and forcing his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. A familiar coil makes itself knows in the pit of your stomach - a telltale sign of your next orgasm approaching rapidly.

- Oh fuck bunny, fuck fuck fuck. Gonna fill that pussy with my cum, full and nice, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? - Miguel rambled next to your ear as his pace became faster and sloppier.

- Pl..ease. Fuck, need.. it. ‘m so close, - you managed to stutter through

Your body prickled with desire and heat, Miguel’s fingers worked diligently on your clit along with his massive cock spreading you open, thick cockhead mushing against all of your sweet spots - he very soon had you cumming all around him, wringing a mind-blowing orgasm out of your exhausted body, your release leaving a noticeable white ring on the base of his dick.

A string or curses and quiet whimpers reached your ears as Miguel’s snapped his hips into yours quickly before stilling completely. Strong shudder ran through male’s massive body and, with a final moan, he shoot his thick cum inside of your fluttering heat, flooding your insides with his warmth.

Miguel went slack against your back, his body mounding against yours as he laid atop of you, making you squeak quietly under his weight. He chuckled airily as he rolled off you to the side, sliding his softening cock out of your bruised pussy. You whined at the feeling of emptiness, warm sperm dripped out in a small dribble, staining your slit and sheets underneath you. Miguel scooped you up in his big arms and maneuvered you to lay on top of his heaving chest, thick fingers tangled in your messy hair, massaging your scalp lovingly.

You took a deep breath, cuddling deeper into your lover’s neck, wrapping one arm around his broad shoulders. Your eyelids felt too heavy and Miguel felt too comfy to lay on, so you were fighting off sleep as much as you could.

- Go to sleep baby, I’ll clean everything up, - you heard a soft murmur, warm lips kissing your forehead in a comforting manner. You hummed in acknowledgment, getting more comfortable in Miguel’s arms.

- Love you, - you whispered tiredly, sleep heavy on your lids.

- Love you too angel

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love🩷🩷

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara spiderverse #spiderverse fanfic #spiderverse smut #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #across the spiderverse #sony spiderverse #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel spiderverse

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night-raven-tattler · 10 days ago

Text

The pains of being human

Summary: You're dealing with period related misfortunes, and you feel vulnerable... mostly because you reached a point where you had to share your predicament with someone you trusted (?).

Characters: Deuce, Floyd, Lilia and GN!Reader (separate, vague)

Warnings: mentions of menstrual products, food, medicine; discussions of periods and related symptoms (such as: bleeding, cramps, nausea, mood swings.)

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You were in your dorm room, stuck in a real predicament: not stocking up on your menstrual products, and leaving the room to buy yourself some seemed too risky, fearing you might get a stain and embarass yourself in front of the whole school

It wasn't a very likely situation, but the anxiety was not worth it, so you relied the first person you were close enough with to help you out: Deuce

You shot him a simple text

"i am on my period, can you buy me some products? i'll pay you back when you get here"

and expected an awkward but supportive reply, since teenage boys and periods can be like oil and water sometimes or demons and cruxes...

But the text you received in return was... mildly surprising.

"yeah sure. pads? tampons?"

"what size do you need?"

"anything else you need? painkillers? something sweet?"

You even double checked the number to make sure you didn't text anyone else

He even knew about sizes! And he thought about painkillers! You were more and more touched with each message coming through

And, with the proper instructions, Deuce was on his way to Sam's

He was not embarassed for even a second: he was there on a mission, and he accomplished it successfully without any missteps

...Well, except of his little delay, caused by a pair of nosy boys, who received their proper threats from Deuce for interrupting his mission with their toxic masculinity

He knocked at your door, and for a second he was expecting his mother to open the door; after all, she was the only one he has ever bought these things for before you

You gratefully welcomed him in, waddling your way back to your bed as you inspected the bag he brought you

"Thank you, Deuce. You're a livesaver... How much did everything cost you?"

Deuce saw the tired look on your face, the heavy lids that indicated a lack of proper sleep, and he shook his head

"It's on me this time."

You scoffed, knowing Deuce was also on a budget; as much of a sweetheart and an honors student he was, Deuce deserved to be rewarded

"...I wanna think of a compromise, but my brain is too tired right now."

You groaned, closing your eyes as you rested them for a few seconds

Deuce shook his head at you again and clicked his tongue in fond exasperation

He wanted to be nice and offer you an out, but you were dead set on being nice to him...

"...A latte."

You opened your eyes, looking at Deuce in confusion

"I'm sorry?"

"I want a latte. One of those fancy ones from that café in town. When you're done with the, uh... bear week."

A small snort escaped you as you gave Deuce an amused look

"Bear week? Not shark week?"

Deuce's eyes widened slightly, and he looked away as his cheeks grew warmer

"...Mom never called it that. She always said that fighting a bear is more likely to happen than fighting a shark... and that it sounds cooler."

You nodded, feeling very inclined to agree with his mom, and decided to steal that phrase

You were very relieved to have someone as reliable as Deuce near you, and despite the fact that Deuce wasn't the most diligent person, he always made sure to carry one of your preffered products with him at all times

No matter what kind of teases he received from anyone for it, he knew he was showing a level of care not many would

And while helping you... he was helping himself

He was still dealing with the guilt of being so embarassed when his own mom sent him to buy pads; he couldn't help his mom with such a simple thing even after everything she's done

But he can be more careful this time... more appreciative

『••✎••』

The moment Floyd spotted you in the hallways was when things went downhill: Floyd didn't really bring sunshine and rainbows around with himself

By that point you were used to his shenanigans, but you still gave some interesting reactions

A gasp, a swat to his hand... but never tears

He wouldn't have yelled in your ear if he knew you'd burst into tears: he wasn't in the mood to deal with the aftermath

But he quickly put two and two together, seeing the way you were frozen on the spot, almost trying to pick between scolding him and saying something else

Unbeknownst to Floyd, you were simply trying to get back to your dorm after noticing a pretty sizeable stain on your pants from your period

And the anxiety from trying to go unnoticed put you on edge, making your reaction to Floyd so much worse

"...Please just get me out of here."

Your small plea came after a tense silence, in which Floyd was reading your expression with an almost uninterested look

But he still hoisted you over his shoulder without any hesitation, much to your embarassment

"Floyd...! Not like this, put me down!"

"Eh~? You're so hard to please, little discus!"

Floyd did not put you down, of course

It was causing a bit of a scene, so you decided that, in the end, you'll take whatever got you to your dorm room the fastest

"Alright, fine...! Just get me to my dorm then!"

"Boooring! Why can't we go somewhere more fun?"

Floyd complained while going in the direction of your dorm

"Because I'm not in the mood for fun, Floyd! I..."

Your cheeks turned red, realising you almost revealed something too personal

To your surprise, Floyd didn't point it out; he just pouted as he walked towards your dorm

You reached your dorm room soon thanks to Floyd's long legs, and you were able to change into fresh clothes, easing your anxiety and making you feel like crying from relief

Until you realised Floyd was still in your room, even after you told him you'd be having no fun together today

He looked you up and down, his face betraying his confusion

"Now can you tell me why you were smelling like blood? Did anyone do something? Do I get to deliver a revenge plan and squeeze some aquarium fish?"

Floyd's almost sadistic delivery did not phase you at all, and all you were thinking was that of course Floyd noticed

You had no other option but to explain

"I just... got a blood stain from my, uh... my period..."

Silence.

"...What do classes have to do with that?"

Your eyes widened as you came to a horrifying conclusion: Floyd couldn't know what period were, because he was a merman

You saw your short life flash before your eyes in horror at the prospect of having to explain periods to a teenager... when Floyd just burst into laughter

"Oh, you actually believe that! You are so funny!"

Much to your relief, Floyd's confusion was just a prank; he figured you had your period before you even said anything

He revealed that he took classes about humans, their customs and anatomy when he first decided to come on land

And he also dodged the pillows you threw at him with practiced ease

It was the last time you even talked about it: neither of you brough it up again, and you didn't know how to feel about it

On one hand, you were relieved, but on the other hand, you expected Floyd of all people to ask questions and be all annoying about it

But Floyd didn't really care about things like that

In fact, he found your periods hilarious: your mood swins in particular were funny, and he almost enjoyed making things that you could digest

And he would never admit it, but he felt proud when you seemed to feel a bit better after he helped you during your period

『••✎••』

Every once in a while, you found yourself being enveloped in a hug from behind from the old bat

He would either hand you a piece of homemade chocolate by him or some cute trinket he thought sould cheer you up

Lilia was a very cute individual, and he was surprisingly affectionate for someone who was definitely a teenager and not a retired war veteran attending highschool, so you never questioned it

...until you found Lilia wrapping his jacket around your torso gingerly from behind

"...There we go. Not too tight?"

His cute, softer voice vibrated through your back as he still was glued to you

"It's... not, but why did you..."

"Oh, haven't you heard? Jackets wrapped around waists are the latest fad! It's cool and chic!"

You didn't argue with him on it, especially after you tried to untie the jacket from your waist and were blocked by Lilia, who was still holding you from behind

The proximity was getting to you, and you felt your cheeks flushing, your knees growing a bit weak, your stomach doing flips-

Wait, no. That wasn't butterflies in your stomach, that was a sharp pain from... lower

As you put two and two together, Lilia started walking you down the hallway into a secluded classroom, his hand around your waist and making you two look as casual and unassuming as always

The moment Lilia closed the door of the abandoned classroom, you his your face in your hands from embarassment

"Oh, my god... This can't be happening to me..."

The tone in your voice betrayed how mortified you felt, but was glad that you had this realisation away from prying eyes

You didn't even realise the leak, since you were already using products, and it already felt like you leaked blood all the time...

Lilia only chucked at your realisation

"Khee hee... Someone was a bit caught off guard today, huh?"

Your pathetic whimper was the only answer Lilia received, and his eyes sparkled with mirth

He still brought out his magical pen and waved it gently in the air, muttering something under his breath

"Take that jacket off and turn around for me?"

You did as he instructed, but only because you felt more... dry, all of a sudden

Lilia hummed in delight as he saw the spot being gone, his spell working

"Good. No more damning evidence... Now all you gotta do is go on your merry way."

You sighed in relief and slipped onto an empty chair, letting the small rollercoaster of emotions settle down within you

Lilia was nothing short of a lifesaver, and he handled the situation with so much grace that it left you speechless

When you asked about it, he just laughed

"I'm no stranger to blood."

That was all he said... Not ominous at all /s

Still, you were very grateful at the way Lilia handled everything

Since then, he started being even more doting on you whenever you were in your period

He was almost... motherly in a way

And for some reason, the idea of Lilia as a parental figure didn't seem too far fetched...

He always was on the lookout for any other accidents and even tried talking you into trying the reusable alternatives for your products

What surprised no one was when he became even more eager to supplement you with nutritional food whenever you were low on energy

And so much more disappointed when your nausea made his food somehow even worse to be around

『••✎••』

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #deuce spade #floyd leech #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland x reader #deuce spade x reader #floyd leech x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

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vanteguccir · 8 days ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　DRESS TO IMPRESS IN REAL LIFE

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, Matt's secret girlfriend, participates in the 'Dress to Impress in real life' video.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I added and changed some dialogs that didn't happen on the video, so the fic ended being more complete.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The triplets were buzzing with energy, their house a hive of activity as they set up for their newest video; Dress to Impress, real-life edition. Each round had its own theme, and the first one was Summer Vacation. Y/N had been roped into joining as a surprise guest, and secretly, Matt couldn't have been more thrilled.

The boys had already pulled out all the stops with their outfits. Chris sported a chaotic ensemble: a bucket hat with panels of clashing colors, lime green slides, and denim cargo shorts.

Matt was rocking a relaxed, dad-on-vacation vibe, complete with an oversized straw hat, patterned swim trunks, and a shirt that screamed, 'I don’t care, I’m on island time'.

Nick had gone full beach prep with a striped tank top, sunglasses that were almost too tiny for his face, and a retro cooler box tucked under his arm like an accessory.

As the camera rolled, Y/N was still getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, leaving the boy's to discuss who went better between the three of them.

"Alright." Chris said, pointing a finger at Nick’s cooler. "I’m just saying, if you don’t actually have anything in there, that’s a waste of a prop."

"It’s called committing to the bit, Chris." Nick shot back, adjusting the towel draped over his shoulder. "The cooler is the vibe."

Matt, who was adjusting his sunglasses, glanced toward the bathroom door, his face lighting up as if he could sense Y/N’s presence through the walls.

"Y/N better bring it. I know she’s got something amazing up her sleeve."

Nick rolled his eyes, looking at Matt with a boring expression.

"Why do I feel like you’re already planning to give her every win, no matter what she’s wearing?"

"Because I am." Matt replied bluntly, grinning like the lovesick puppy he was.

The door finally creaked open, and all three boys turned as Y/N emerged. She had nailed the summer vacation aesthetic, wearing a flowy, tropical-patterned sundress, bikini top below it, oversized black Prada sunglasses perched on her nose, and sandals that matched her outfit perfectly. She’d even added a straw beach bag for good measure.

"Okay, Y/N, I see you!" Chris exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Y/N laughed, grinning widely before twirling to show off her look.

"Alright, that’s tough competition. You actually look like you're ready to spend the day at your beach house." Nick gave a low whistle, his blue eyes traveling from her face to her feet and back again. "But I'd say you're in fourth place. You're ready for the beach, not for any summer vacation."

"Fair." Y/N shrugged, take a quick peak at her outfit again before looking at Matt. "What do you think?"

Matt's eyes seemed to be shining like the whole cadence of stars, wandering through every detail of her choice of clothes.

"Are you kidding? That’s... that’s so good. You look like you stepped out of a summer vacation catalog or something." His voice sounded slightly high-pitched with excitement. "Nick's just jealous."

"What? No, I'm not!"

Chris rolled his eyes, already sensing where this was going.

"Oh, here we go."

"Like, if I saw you on the beach." Matt continued, ignoring his brothers entirely. "I’d probably just pass out. That’s how good you look."

"Okay, Matt." Nick said, holding up a hand. "We get it. Obsessive fucker."

The room filled with laughter, Y/N shaking her head but unable to hide the grin spreading across her face, her cheeks heating up.

"Right, first round? I'm second." Matt declared, gesturing toward himself. "Obviously, Y/N was first because, you know, she's Y/N." He gave her a little smile. "Then Nick was third, and Chris was fourth. That’s the average."

"Yeah, unfortunately." Nick muttered, throwing his hands up.

"Well." Chris turned dramatically to the camera and pointed. "They can vote."

Nick, not missing a beat, leaned closer to the camera, his voice dripping with mock confidence.

"Oh, I already know they’re gonna vote for me. Mine’s obviously the best. Unless..." He paused for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow. "These girls wanna sleep with Matt and vote for him."

"What?!" Matt’s eyes widened in pure shock as he whipped his head toward the camera, looking utterly scandalized.

Y/N’s eyes flicked between Nick and Matt, her lips tightening slightly trying to suppress a laugh. It was impossible not to be amused by Nick’s antics.

She knew Nick wasn’t wrong, Matt’s popularity with their audience also had to do with his charm and, let’s face it, how good he looked on camera. There probably were plenty of girls who’d vote for Matt purely because of his looks, even if one of the other boys dressed better.

Nick continued without missing a beat.

"It’s the straight man advantage! You guys..." He gestured wildly at the camera. "Are gonna discriminate against me because I’m gay, and I don't like 'yall back."

At that, Y/N couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking her head.

Matt, still recovering from Nick’s bold accusation, raised a hand defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second." He looked straight into the camera with that intense, sincere gaze that Y/N loved. "Just for the record, I’m completely off-limits. Completely."

The way he said it, firm and definitive, sent a wave of confidence through Y/N. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she crossed her arms, clearing her throat to contain her reactions, trying to play it cool.

Nick, however, wasn’t done.

"Oh, yeah? You really think they care about that?" He teased, smirking as Matt shook his head in disbelief.

Chris rolled his eyes, still laughing.

"Nick, stop trying to guilt-trip them into voting for you."

"I'm not doing anything." Nick replied with a wink, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

"Now, bring the runway on, boys!"

The camera cut to Chris, who had appointed himself the first to strut down their makeshift runway that started from the stairs.

He walked in quick steps before stopping in the center of their camera lens, dramatically fanning himself with an imaginary hand fan.

"Where did you even get the idea of the imaginary fan?" Y/N teased, laughing with the others.

"Shh, it’s part of the vibe." Chris replied, flipping his bucket hat backward with flair. He strolled toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, striking a series of ridiculous poses. "Yeah, you’re welcome." He said as he walked off-camera, leaving the other three in stitches.

Nick went next, cooler in hand.

"Get ready to witness greatness." He said, lifting the retro cooler above his head like it was the Holy Grail, showing it off.

"You go, queen!" Y/N cheered, nodding her head while watching him.

Nick smiled brightly, placing it down carefully and reached for the towel draped over his shoulder, unfolding it with slow, deliberate movements. Too slow.

"This is taking forever." Matt groaned, crossing his arms.

"Nick, it’s been 30 seconds. Just lay the towel down!" Chris yelled.

Nick ignored them, carefully smoothing out the towel on the floor, his face the picture of focus. Once he was satisfied, he walked down the "runway", throwing some expressions to the camera before almost gluing his face to the lens, taking his glasses off.

"Iconic." Y/N said between laughs.

"Thank you, thank you." Nick replied, bowing before dramatically kicking the towel aside as if to signal the end of his performance, his right hand fanning himself as the last act.

Matt was up next.

"Alright, let me show you how it’s done." He said confidently. Grabbing his sunscreen, he opened the cap and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers, dabbing it on his cheeks like football player stripes.

"Well, you gotta stay protected, I guess." Y/N muttered, smiling with how Chris was rooting like crazy.

Laughter escaped her lips as Matt sauntered toward the camera, showing off the sunscreen like it was a designer handbag. He struck a confident pose, holding the product up, before walking back off the camera with an over-the-top smile.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn.

"Your move, Y/N." Nick said, gesturing grandly toward the imaginary runway.

"Alright, alright, give me a second." She said, thinking fast.

She reached into her straw bag, pulling out the pair of oversized sunglasses that she had thrown there at some point, dramatically placing it on her face. Then, grabbing a small beach towel she had tucked inside the bag, she draped it over one arm like a sash.

"What’s happening here?" Matt asked, intrigued.

Y/N strolled onto the "runway" with slow, exaggerated movements like a madame arriving at a five-star resort. Halfway down, she pretended to feel the heat, pulling an actual bottle of water from her bag and taking a sip before fanning herself with her hand.

"It has to have the fan move!" Nick applauded, grinning to the scene before being interrupted by Chris’s comment.

"Of course, I created it."

At the end of the runway, Y/N stopped, tossed her sunglasses off dramatically at the ground, and struck a ridiculous pose with one hand on her hip and the other shielding her eyes as if she was shielding her face from the sun.

"That was solid!" Chris exclaimed, clapping.

Matt, meanwhile, was in awe, hands on his head.

"Are you kidding? That was really good. A thousand points. Game over. Y/N wins. Everyone go home."

Nick scoffed.

"Matt, stop simping for two seconds so we can keep this contest going."

"I’m not simping." Matt argued, clearly lying. "I'm just stating facts."

"Shut up, Matt."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For the Mix-Matched Madness theme, the camera panned to the boys standing in a line, proudly displaying their chaotic ensembles.

Chris was clad in a bright red varsity jacket over a striped shirt, camo pink shorts, and mismatched knee-high socks with chunky boots.

Matt decided for plaid shorts layered over one plaid pant leg, a pastel blue and yellow sweater vest, and a floppy dog-ear cap.

Nick went to a plaid jacket layered over a striped shirt with a perfectly coordinated tie, and matching sweatpants and sneakers.

"Guys, I’m clearly superior." Nick started, raising his eyebrows as he adjusted his glasses. "My outfit is actually intentional, look at this synergy! It screams fashion-forward."

Matt groaned, rolling his eyes and looking at Chris with a 'is he serious?' expression.

"Nick, you’re wearing matchy-matchy plaid in a mix-matched challenge. You’ve missed the assignment!"

"It’s ironic." Nick shot back, crossing his arms. "I’m doing intentional matching. If I were in a real runway right now, people would actually like my outfit."

Chris scratched his head, looking between them.

"Isn’t that kind of cheating, though?"

Before the debate could escalate further, Y/N stepped into the frame, causing all three boys to give her their attention.

Her outfit was next level: a bright purple sequined crop top paired with one lime green legging on her right leg and a fluffy, neon orange sock on the other. She wore a skirt made of layered, clashing floral patterns that didn’t quite match the fuzzy checkered cardigan she threw on top. To finish it off, her accessories included a leopard-print beanie - the one she stole from Matt's closet -, oversized sunglasses, and two entirely different shoes, a silver stiletto on one foot and a Croc on the other.

The boys gawked.

"Okay, now that’s mix-matched madness." Chris said, pointing at her.

"Girl, you look like you fell into a thrift store... and it worked." Nick added, looking both impressed and slightly annoyed.

"How can you still look so good while wearing... that?" Matt asked, pointing at her outfit with his hand while shaking his head in disbelief.

Y/N twirled dramatically, holding out her skirt as she grinned at the camera.

"Thank you, boys. I like to call this 'chaos with confidence'." She invented the random name, throwing a quick kiss to the lens.

Chris threw his hands up.

"Alright, I’m officially placing second now."

Nick groaned, shaking his head dramatically.

"No way. She’s great, but I’m still winning. Look at this tie!"

Matt laughed.

"Nick, your tie doesn’t save you from breaking the theme. You’re disqualified."

The scene cut to the "runway", where each of them showcased their chaotic outfits with an equally chaotic performance.

First up was Nick. He confidently strutted forward, reaching for the end of his tie. With exaggerated flair, he lifted it as if someone were pulling him forward, his face a picture of mock shock and drama, stumbling forward.

"Ey, keep going!" Chris hollered, nodding enthusiastically.

The moment he reached the end of the runway, he grinned mischievously, running his hand dramatically through his hair and tossing a sultry look at the camera before taking off his pink glasses.

"Work it, Nick!" Y/N chimed in, her laughter mixing with the chaos.

Nick turned on his heel with a laugh, sauntering back to the start and throwing a praying gesture, ignoring how Matt laughed, mockingly imitating his act.

Next, Matt stepped up, adjusting his floppy dog-ear cap before suddenly spinning it backward.

"Showtime." He muttered under his breath, earning immediate chuckles from the others. He walked to the camera with a cocky stride, crossing his arms and bending slightly to the side.

For the final move, he pivoted and moonwalked his way back to the start, nearly slipping on his mismatched shoes but recovering with a grin.

"Did you see that? Effortless." Matt declared, earning boos and laughs from the rest.

"You almost ate it, Matt." Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Chris stepped up next. And, of course, he brought drama.

"Hold my jacket." He said, then immediately shook his head. "Actually, no. The floor will."

With exaggerated aggression, he ripped off one of his red lobster gloves, throwing it to the ground with flair. The glove was followed by his belt, which he unbuckled and tossed with equal energy.

"Oh my God." Y/N looked at the camera with wide eyes.

"What is happening?" Nick cackled, practically doubling over, slapping Y/N's arm.

Chris wasn’t done. He walked up to the camera with an intense expression, holding his hands out and touching the screen, acting as if zooming in.

"Enhance." He said, squinting into the lens. Then, as if the camera wasn’t worthy, he spun dramatically on his heel, walked back, and threw off his varsity jacket mid-stride before striking one final pose.

"Now that’s how you do it." Y/N joked, looking at the camera. "Like and subscribe if you want Chris to make a strip tea-"

"Y/N!"

For Y/N's turn, she adjusted her oversized leopard beanie with a dramatic flair and tilted her sunglasses low on her nose, revealing a dead-serious expression underneath. She strutted forward slowly, dragging her stiletto along the ground for added effect. When she reached the camera, she whipped her head to the side, making her orange fluffy sock the star of the moment.

But it didn’t end there. Y/N suddenly crouched down into a deep squat, raising one hand in the air and striking a pose like she was ready to pounce. The boys immediately broke into cheers and laughter.

"Yes, queen!" Nick shouted, jumping in the place and clapping, laughing loudly.

"She nailed it." Matt said with a proud grin, nodding his head.

Y/N slowly stood, turning to the side as if the camera had disappeared, and walked off like nothing had happened.

"Thank you." She said nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the others applauded.

"Alright, I officially retire." Nick said, throwing his arms to the air in a surrender gesture.

"Same." Chris picked up his lobster glove from the floor, grinning.

Matt sighed, smiling at Y/N's figure.

"She’s unbeatable. Let’s not do these challenges anymore if she’s in them."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The scene cut to the next category: Rock Concert. The boys had gathered in front of the camera, each flaunting their edgy outfits.

Chris leaned casually against the wall, dressed in all black with his bandana tied around his head. His sunglasses were perfectly placed, and a Bluetooth speaker hung over his shoulder like a statement piece.

"Clearly, I’m the embodiment of rock concert aesthetic." He said confidently, adjusting his speaker strap.

Nick crossed his arms, giving Chris a side-eye. He was sporting his long-sleeved shirt adorned with skulls and intricate spiderweb patterns paired with black cargo pants and chunky boots.

"Please." Nick retorted. "I’ve got literal death on my shirt. That’s as metal as it gets."

Matt, standing in the middle, smirked. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, complete with a silver skull belt buckle and leather pants that practically screamed rockstar.

"Yeah, but have you seen my belt?" He argued, lifting his white shirt slightly to show it off. "This is peak rock concert material. I even coordinated it with my jacket."

"Okay, but who do you think the crowd would look at first?" Chris challenged. "The guy with the bandana, all black, and sunglasses? Obviously me. The speaker only makes it better."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"You look like you’re trying to be a cool dad sneaking into a concert." He teased.

"Alright, alright." Y/N interrupted from off-screen, stepping into the camera frame and effectively stealing the show.

Y/N’s outfit was on another level. She wore a black 'Bon Jovi' cropped top with silver detailing that matched the chains on her leather mini skirt. Fishnet tights peeked out from under the skirt, leading down to a pair of knee-high combat boots that added an extra edge to the look. To top it off, she wore a cropped leather jacket with studs on the shoulders and accessorized with chunky silver jewelry and a black choker.

The boys fell silent for a second, staring.

Y/N smiled brightly at them before turning to the camera, raising her right arm and making the 'rock and roll' gesture by raising her pinky and index fingers and lowering the others.

"'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars and live in hilltop houses driving 15 cars..."

"Girl, what the fuck?" Nick widened his eyes, looking from Y/N to the camera with a look that screamed 'are you guys seeing this?'

Matt laughed loudly, recognizing the song from one of the TikTok trends that Y/N had been obsessing over the past few weeks, being quick in imitating her position, and starting singing with her.

"... the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap, we'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat-"

"Okay, that's enough of that." Chris interrupted the pair, gesturing to them while shaking his head in disbelief. "So, Y/N wins."

Nick groaned dramatically.

"Let's take her out right now. I don't wanna play with her anymore."

Matt couldn’t stop smiling.

"Can we just talk about how she’s nailing this? Like, can we get her to join the band we don’t have?"

Y/N laughed, giving a mock bow.

"Thank you, thank you. Now, let's just be clear, I already won." Y/N said with a sly grin, stepping forward. "You'll all lose time if you keep discussing who's the best between you three."

"How can you be so sure?" Chris crossed his arms, carrying a superior instance.

"Because I actually listen to rock." She said, shrugging like it was obvious. "AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Kansas, Asia... should I keep going?"

Nick groaned.

"Okay, that’s true, but it doesn’t count!"

"Doesn’t count?" Y/N repeated, feigning offense. "I think you’ll find that the fact I actually know rock makes me the winner by default." She turned to Chris. "Tell me. Have 'yall even listened to ‘Highway to Hell’ all the way through?"

Chris hesitated, playing with his earphones.

"Uh... I mean." He looked at Nick. "Probably?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

"Thought so." She crossed her arms. "So, I don’t need a skull belt, all-black everything, or death on my chest. I’ve got the actual music taste. Rock is in my veins, boys."

Nick groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

"She wins. I hate it, but she wins."

"Alright, fine." Chris muttered. "But we still look better."

"Not a chance." Y/N teased, spinning in place again and winking at the camera. "This outfit screams rock goddess."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The boys were now proudly sporting their "Zoom Meeting" outfits. Chris held up his MacBook, Matt adjusted his glasses with a goofy smile, and Nick tugged at his black tie, looking down at his bright heart-shaped boxer shorts with fake professionalism.

"Alright." Chris started, addressing the imaginary Zoom meeting in front of him. "Gentlemen, let’s get to business. As you can see, we’re all clearly dressed to impress."

"Except for Nick." Matt teased, nodding toward his brother's boxer shorts. "The hearts? A little too much, don’t you think?"

Nick scoffed, feigning offense.

"Excuse me, at least I have this tie that says I’m both professional and emotionally available. A winning combo."

Matt rolled his eyes and gestured to his own look.

"Meanwhile, I’ve got balance. Business on top, relaxation on the bottom."

"That’s literally the whole theme." Chris pointed out with a smirk. "You’re not special, Matt."

Y/N watched from her spot leaning against Matt's bathroom door, her legs crossed as she sipped from her mug of coffee that she made while waiting for them to get ready. She was dressed comfortably yet stylishly, rocking an oversized beige knit sweater that draped perfectly off one shoulder, paired with black leggings and fluffy white socks. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face. Despite the boys' chaotic energy, she was nailing the whole "effortlessly cool" vibe.

"Y/N, you’re way too cozy for a Zoom meeting." Chris said, pointing at her as he adjusted his loose white shirt.

"Well." Y/N said with a playful grin. "Unlike you guys, I know how to mix comfy with class. You all just look ridiculous."

Nick gasped, dramatically clutching the box in his hands.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?! Look at this tie! I’m the epitome of professionalism!"

Chris leaned toward Y/N, pointing at Matt.

"What about him? He’s literally in boxer shorts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipping from her mug to hide her smile.

"You're all wearing it, dumbass." Her eyes lingered on Matt's red boxer shorts for a moment too long. "It’s really interesting that someone would think boxer shorts are appropriate for a Zoom meeting, actually."

Matt smirked, striking a random pose.

"Are you jealous?"

"No?" She said quickly, shaking her head. "I mean, it’s not like anyone else on the Zoom would see them, right?"

The other two brothers caught on instantly, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Y/N." Nick teased. "Are you saying you wouldn’t let your Zoom co-workers see your boxers?"

"Nick!" She exclaimed, throwing an exasperated look at him. "That’s not the point!"

Chris chimed in, laughing.

"Yeah, Matt. She’s definitely jealous. She wishes she could wear boxers to a meeting."

"I do not!" Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I just... don’t understand why he’d even bother wearing the shirt if he’s just going to go full casual anyway."

"It’s called commitment to the aesthetic." Matt said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, discretely squeezing the exposed skin. "Something you clearly wouldn’t understand."

"Oh, I understand commitment." Y/N shot back with a smirk, meeting his eyes momentarily. "But let’s be honest, none of you are winning any awards for those outfits."

"Excuse me?" Nick said, pretending to be outraged. "I’m clearly the winner here."

"Winner?" Chris scoffed. "You’re wearing socks pulled up to your knees, bro. That’s not even close to a win."

Y/N chuckled as she watched them descend into a full argument over who had the best Zoom look, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering back to Matt’s outfit. Something about the casual confidence he exuded - boxers and glasses - had her feeling just a little possessive and turned on.

"Alright." She announced, clapping her hands to get their attention. "If you’re all done arguing, let’s see who can really sell their look with a runway walk."

The boys' faces lit up, and they quickly got into character.

Nick was up first, confidently sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, arms spread wide like a figure skater. As he came to a stop, he reached for his boxer shorts and dramatically lowered them until they hit the ground, shouting a little "Oh!".

Matt immediately yelped.

"Nick!" He yelled before lunging forward to cover Y/N's eyes with both hands.

"Matt! What are you doing?!" Y/N laughed, trying to swat his hands away while Chris doubled over in hysterics.

"Protecting your innocence!" Matt declared, keeping his hands firmly over her face.

Nick, unfazed, quickly pulled his boxers back up and began walking toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, tugging at his tie and making ridiculous faces as though he were a real model.

"You’re unbelievable!" Chris murmured through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Well, we've got 2 strippers now-"

"Y/N!"

Nick turned dramatically to face her and winked.

"You’re welcome for the show."

Next, it was Matt’s turn. He walked to the middle of the floor, cracking his knuckles with a sly grin before suddenly dropping to his hands and knees.

"Uh, Matt?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What...?" Nick added, genuinely confused.

Then, without warning, Matt lifted his left leg to the side like a dog at a fire hydrant.

The realization hit everyone at once, recognizing the movement from one of the rounds of DTI that Matt and Chris played, and the room erupted into cheers and laughter.

"That was perfect!" Chris shouted, clapping his hands.

Matt stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his shirt with a smirk, and walked toward the camera with crossed arms, striking a serious pose like a model in a high-fashion commercial.

"Okay, that was actually cool." Y/N admitted, giggling as he walked back to join them.

When it was Chris’s turn, he shook his head with a grin.

"I’m sitting this one out." He said.

"What? Why?" Nick asked, incredulous.

Chris shrugged.

"I’m already the main event. I’ll let Y/N steal the spotlight this time."

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, so now I have to go?"

"You got this!" Matt encouraged, nudging her toward the runway.

"Fine." She said, standing up and straightening her oversized sweater dramatically.

Y/N walked off the camera and took the book she'd been reading the past few days from the coffee table, walking back to the frame before delicately putting it on her head like a balancing act. She strutted confidently toward the camera, balancing it all the way, then stopped to pull out her mug, striking a victorious pose before taking a slow, exaggerated sip. The boys erupted in applause.

"You can call me Barbie now." She started, turning to the boys while opening a wide smile before pretending that her hand was a microphone. "On top of the world where I can see everything before me reaching up to touch the sky-"

"Okay, singer girl, pipe down a bit." Nick raised his right hand, exchanging perplexed looks with Chris, who was laughing.

"Okay, she wins." The youngest admitted, shrugging in defeat.

"Unreal." Matt said, looking at her with obvious pride. "You’re way too good at this, Y/N."

"Okay, okay, she wins. No one can top that." Nick nodded at Y/N. "But I think Chris gets second place in this one."

"No, I give you number one." Chris insisted, pointing to Nick while Matt just observed.

"I can't accept that. I'm just happy Matt's wearing his blue light glasses again." Nick's voice turned dramatically high-pitched, clearly imitating the fandom.

Before anyone could react to him, Matt ripped his glasses off of his face, bending it backward until it snapped, small pieces flying everywhere.

"Matt, why would you do that?" Y/N yelled, looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth - just like the other two - before pouting, looking miserably at the shattered pieces. "I liked that one."

"I don't like those stupid jokes." Matt simply replied, looking unfazed at his brothers and Y/N.

Nick and Chris kept looking from Matt to the camera and back, their expressions full of shock.

"You're going to buy another one just like that one, I don't even care." Y/N ordered, crossing her arms and looking directly at Matt, raising her eyebrows as if to say 'dare disobey me.

"Fine." He sighed. "Sorry."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments:

"okay but can we talk about matt literally saying ‘I’m off limits’? someone tell me what’s going on here 🤡"

"nick casually calling out matt girls for voting on matt only bc they want to sleep with him had me SCREAMING 😭"

"why was Y/N blushing when matt said he was off limits? I SEE YOU, GIRL!!!!"

"the dynamic between Y/N and matt is giving major dating vibes"

"wait, why does matt always seem to hype Y/N up just a little more than chris and nick? like, we get it, dude. she’s awesome. but tone it down, or we’ll all start connecting dots 🤨"

"as a fellow rock fan, I have to say Y/N listening to AC/DC and bon jovi automatically makes her my fave"

"not Y/N convincing matt with zero effort to do the rockstar trend with her 🤧"

"I’m not saying I ship Y/N and matt... but I also kind of ship Y/N and matt. the way he looked at her with that dress??? man, I know that look"

"matt breaking his glasses and then Y/N ordering him to buy another one and him ACCEPTING IT???? and saying sorry???? omg that's just girl boss right there 🙏🏻"

972 notes · View notes

chestharrington · 7 months ago

Text

For A Good Time Call! || Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 14.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Phone Sex Hotline Operator!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (phone sex, m & f masturbation (including pillow humping & sex toys), f!receiving oral sex, p in v sex), language, idiots in love, mutual pining, porn WITH plot

Summary: In the Summer of 1985, Steve's social standing is at an all time low. In an act of sheer, pathetic desperation, he calls a phone sex hotline. Little does he know, his dream girl from the hotline is just an escalator away.

Steve Harrington wasn’t the kind of guy who did this. He repeated it in his head as he scribbled down the phone number— fed straight to him from a local late-night advertisement. For a good time call!

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. And he wasn’t exactly able to ignore the way his dick twitched in his boxers as the commercial showed pretty girls twirling phone lines around manicured fingers, pretty smiles on their faces, eyes sultry and staring right through him.

Plus, he wasn’t actually going to call. He was just… keeping the number for his records. He’d just put it in his Rolodex and forget about it.

A week later, and he decidedly hadn’t forgotten about it. In fact, with the house empty and playboys not cutting it, it’s all he could think about.

For a good time call. He wanted to have a good time. It had been a while since he had a good time— his stupid Scoops Ahoy uniform wasn’t exactly bolstering his natural charm. Robin could say what she wanted, but he was charming and fun and everything people usually want in a boyfriend. He was just… going through a rough patch.

He retrieved his Rolodex and hurriedly flipped through, trying to remember where he’d hidden the number. Definitely not around his boss. And not around Nancy either. Tucked between Tommy and a past hookup, he found it.

He set up his pillows behind his back and got comfortable before dialing the number with uncharacteristically sweaty hands. He was cooler than this was all making him seem. He was the playboy of Hawkins High— of Hawkins in general. Phone sex was nothing.

As he dialed the number, he prepared to turn on his charm. Instead, he was led to a generic call-center script, which, after being carefully followed based on his wants and desires, took him to billing.

“It’s a flat rate of twenty for your first ten minutes. If you finish before then, it’s still twenty, alright?”

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“After that, it’s fifty cents per minute. An hour session will run you about $55.” Oh. It certainly wasn’t cheap. He’d spent less on dates before. “Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah,” he said after a brief pause, his mind taking a while to catch up. “Do you need my credit card?”

By the time billing was over, his anticipation had tangled his stomach into knots. He glanced at the clock, wondering if those ten minutes would fly past him as fast as he thought they would. The line trilled as he waited to be connected to his partner for the night. Jenny. Like the song.

That song was gross, anyway. But how could he say anything about it now?

The ringing stopped, and he could hear the crackle of a quiet line on the other side, the rustle of movement. Did he need to say hi first? Was trying to start a conversation weird?

“Hi,” he said, and he wondered how he could make one word sound so utterly stupid. “Jenny, right?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed. He could picture you so clearly, despite knowing nothing— one of those pretty girls in the commercials, laying on your belly on a frilly pink bed, fingernails and toenails painted a shiny red, twirling the phone cord around your finger. “What should I call you?”

He swallowed. “Do people usually give you fake names?”

“Sometimes,” you replied. “It’s not about what other people do, baby. It’s about what you want. Do you want me to call you by a fake name?”

He wrinkled his nose. What was the worst thing that could come from a stranger knowing his first name? “No, that sounds awful. No offense.” You laughed, and he felt himself relax. “I’m Steve H—“ He cleared his throat. “Just Steve.”

“Well, I’m glad that I get to talk to you tonight Steve,” you said, and just the sultry timbre of your voice made his stomach do flips. “I’m guessing this is your first time?”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m not a virgin.”

“No, baby. I mean it seems like it’s your first time calling a hotline like this.” His face burned hot as he fumbled his way through answering, oh, yeah, I guess that’s right. “So, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“Uh…” he paused, trying to think of a more polite way of saying to cum while a pretty girl talks to me. “I guess I’ve just been lonely.”

“Poor baby,” you said, and he was shocked that you didn’t have even a hint of amusement or mirth when you said it. “You want me to take care of you? Help you forget?”

His breath caught in his throat, stealing his response. His dick twitched, already half-hard and sensitive. All he could manage was a tiny whimper of, “Mhmm.”

“What do you usually think about when you’re touching yourself?” You asked, and the lack of shame in your voice made heat flare in his cheeks. He’d had some shameless hookups, but most of the girls he slept with didn’t like to talk about it. “Like, what’s your favorite fantasy, Steve?”

It was embarrassing. Mortifying, actually. It was basically the plot of a bad porno or a letter to Penthouse.

Usually, it started by his pool. And a girl was there, wearing a cute, but ultimately tiny, bikini. The girl didn’t really matter. Well, she did, but it wasn’t about who she was. She could have been a Playmate of the Month, or a movie star, or a girl he was crushing on and wanted to ask out. All that mattered for the sake of the fantasy, was that she was pretty, had nice tits, and wanted him.

“Does that make me awful?” He asked, pausing mid-description to gauge your perception of him. You laughed on the other end of the line.

“God, Steve,” you said with thinly veiled amusement. “You think I give a personality and backstory to all of the people I fantasize about fucking?”

It made him feel a little better.

Anyways, there was something about summertime that just made sense to him. Skin all but steaming in the heat, the oiled up glow that came from sweaty skin. Wearing as few clothes as possible so you didn’t overheat.

You gave a nervous laugh— breathy and sweet— on the other end of the line. “You’re really good at setting the scene, Steve.” He liked to be specific. He wanted to think about tiny details like the salty taste of skin or hair that smelled like chlorine and salt. “What’s next?”

She always started by laying on her stomach, the ties of her bikini undone so she didn’t get unsightly tan lines. She would peer at him over her shoulder with wide, innocent eyes while she asked if he could apply a bit more sunscreen on her back where she couldn’t reach.

So he straddled her thighs, her skin burning up under his hands as he rubbed in the freezing cold sunscreen. Goosebumps would break out along her arms, and she’d have to arch away from the sensation, pushing her ass against him.

“Are you hard already?” You asked, and his cheeks burned hot.

“Like…” He glanced at his lap, where his cock was already straining against the fabric of his boxers. “In the fantasy or right now?”

“Is the answer the same for both?”

He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Keep going.”

He was already impatient. Skipped right to the kissing and cut out the context and actions that led to it. Did it matter? The bikini top fell onto the ground, and she was on top of him, tits pressed into his sun-warmed chest, tongue licking into his mouth.

God, he fucking loved kissing. He’d missed it so much since he’d graduated and his social clout had depleted to fuck all. There had been dates, and messy, slow makeouts in the back of his car since walking the stage, but not one since his first shift at Scoops Ahoy. It was killing him.

She felt so good in his lap— so warm and heavy. He could have stayed like that forever— trapped beneath a pretty girl with her tongue down his throat. But he wanted more— he always wanted more.

He wanted more then. As he relayed his fantasy to this stranger in painstaking detail, he ached for more. His hand was flat on his tummy, and he shivered as he slipped it beneath the band of his boxers to take his cock into his hand. He groaned, the back of his head knocking against the wall.

“God, you’re cute,” your voice was so pretty. He throbbed in his grip, making him exhale a shuddering breath. “It’s okay, Steve. You can keep touching yourself while you talk to me. I want you to.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his voice broken by a tiny whimper. “I don’t have to.”

“I’m sure, baby,” you insisted. “What do you do next, hm? I’m on top of you, kissing you nice and slow, grinding my hips against yours because I just can’t help myself. Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

“I’d—“ He swallows hard, eyes shut tight. “I’d want to taste you.”

In the fantasy, his hands gripped the back of your thighs, moving you up his body so you were just above his mouth. He was suave and sexy. He’d pull the bow at your hip with his teeth so your swim bottoms fell off like they were nothing.

And it would feel so comfortable beneath you— so natural for him. He’d just barely have to lean forward to have his mouth on you, already wet so he could taste you on his tongue. He’d moan at your taste— he fucking loved the way pussy tasted, even if he got shit for it in the locker room when he admitted it— and pull you down onto his mouth so he could get impossibly closer.

It would be messy— a mix of spit and slick on his mouth and chin, making the tip of his nose shine. He’d spend as long as he wanted beneath you, pulling every noise he could from your lips, trapped between your thighs. He wouldn’t stop until you came— once at a minimum, more if he was feeling greedy.

“All this attention on little old me,” you teased. “Would you let me take care of you? I could slip off those swim trunks of yours and make you feel good.”

He had set a steady pace— hand gliding up and down his length as his fantasy continued to evolve. “Yeah,” he managed, but his voice came out strangled and desperate. “You’d put your hand down my shorts and tease me. Your hand would feel so good. Warm and soft. You’d, uh, tell me how big I am, how you wanted to feel me stretch your uh— your—.”

“My what, baby?” Your voice dripped with amusement and mirth. “My pussy?”

“Fuck.” It came out with an exhale, his heart hammering.

“You like it when girls say dirty things to you, Steve?” You asked, and he could hear your smirk. “You want me to beg for your cock so deep inside of me that I feel you in my stomach? Or tell you how warm and wet and tight I feel around my fingers?”

Steve groaned, throbbing in his grip as he worked himself faster. “Fuck, are you really?”

“Mhmm,” you replied. “Think about how good I’d feel when you finally let yourself fuck me. You were such a gentleman first, but you don’t have to be with me. I want to make this all about you.”

But he was a gentleman. Of course he wanted to get his dick wet and et cetera, but that wasn’t really why he liked sex. He liked making people feel good all because of him— hearing the pretty noises they made, watching their initial shyness melt away into unabashed desire.

A lot of the time (most of the time), he felt like a huge fuck-up. Abysmal grades (well, more around average), not good enough for sports scholarships, basically every bit the son that his parents didn’t want to have. Who could really blame him for relishing in the times when he could be good and impressive to someone other than himself?

Whatever. If he thought about that train of thought for more than, like, ten seconds, he’d lose his hard-on and probably start crying into the receiver and spilling all of his life’s worst moments. He really couldn’t imagine anything more pathetic than that.

So he thought about something else.

He thought about how he’d lay you down on a beach towel, warmed in the sun, cradled by plush grass beneath it. He’d feel awkward about shucking off his swim trunks— he always hated undressing because it felt so awkward. But you’d look at him like he was the most attractive guy in the whole world.

He was a sap, what could he say? He would hold your hand too, squeezing it with his as he lined up with your entrance. You’d be so wet that it felt slick and he’d feel proud just knowing he did that to you.

When he finally pushed into you, your eyes would be locked on his, warm with emotion, like the entire world just melted away. And how could he not kiss you? When everything felt so good and your legs were wrapped around his waist and each breath was punctuated by soft, desperate sounds?

It would feel special. With your foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air. He just wants to be as close to you as possible— needs to feel every inch of your skin, sweaty and sun-warmed, against his. He’d just… bury himself deep inside of you and grind into you. It felt more intimate that way.

He could feel himself getting close. A furrow formed between his brows as he chased his high. Moans broke up his words as he brought himself closer and closer.

“I’d— fuck— I’d rub your clit. Make you cum before I got there. It’d feel so— so fucking good too. It always feels so good. Oh god. Fuck, I’m close.”

“Go ahead, baby. I want to hear you.”

His entire body shuddered as he came, spilling messily onto his belly and chest. It felt like it lasted forever— that warm, perfect feeling of reaching his peak. He was panting as he came down, stroking himself until overstimulation made him whimper.

“Fuck… maybe I should pay you for that,” you said after a beat. “Did it feel good, Steve? Feel a little less lonely?”

“Mhmm,” he replied. He was spent— already feeling languid and heavy. “That was… Really perfect.”

“I’m glad.” You paused again, and he spent that time trying to catch his breath. “I’m on every night around this time. Like, from around ten to two. I’d like to hear more of your fantasies, maybe even act one out with you, if you’d want that?”

His heart hammered, and he felt incredibly stupid as a blush crept up his neck and cheeks. “Yeah, I’ll call you again soon.”

When you said your good nights, he laid back against his pillows. The dial tone played over the speakers as he stared up at his ceiling, spend cooling on his tummy. Leave it to King Steve to fall for someone he had to pay to talk to.

Your eyelids drooped as you manned the checkout counter at Waldenbooks, one of few stores at the mall that could actually be found vacant during a busy summer day. Last night had been a late one— it didn’t help that you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve, your mystery caller.

It felt stupid to get hung up on the type of guy who had to call a hotline to get his rocks off, especially when you knew precious little about him. You had his name, his general location, that he had a pool, and he had a nice voice.

Your bangs lifted as you blew a puff of air out the side of your lips, slowly going insane to the sound of Muzak playing softly through the speakers.

Steve… Did you know any Steve’s? Steve Crandall got into a motorcycle wreck the year after graduation and died. Then there was Steve Odell who moved off to California on some crazy tech idea he swore was going to change the world. Steven Ferris? He seemed like the type, but there was no way he owned a pool since you were pretty sure he lived in the basement of some old couple’s house. That wiped out your graduating class, at least.

From your perspective on the second floor, you had a perfect view of the fine piece of ass working the ice cream parlor. He was cute— definitely younger than you by a couple of years— and the stupid costume they had him in surprisingly did it for you. You could watch him mop up spilled sorbet all day and it’d be jerk-off material for the next week.

He had nice biceps. And thighs. Fucking hell, the things you’d do to get between those and —

“New releases?” You snap your gaze to the other side of the counter, where a woman with pink lipstick on her teeth looks at you impatiently.

You plastered on a winning smile and pointed a manicured finger to the other side of the store. “That big shelf on the left-hand wall over there,” you said with saccharine sweetness. “Anything else that I can help you with, ma’am?”

She frowned and you fought a grin. There was nothing that women pushing forty hated more than being called ma’am. You might as well have been telling them they had a foot in the grave.

The day passed by with minimal hiccups. You convinced someone to buy your favorite book, so that was a win. And you’d gotten to restock the fun pencils. You clocked out and shrugged off the vest you wore on top of your normal clothes and took your hair down from its ponytail to hang loose on your shoulders. Your perm was kind of killing you. It never sat just how you wanted, almost like it had a mind of its own.

You made your way out of the mall with a brief glance towards Scoops Ahoy, which was notably missing the hot guy you’d been lusting after since your first day on the job. With a dejected sigh, you escaped the crowded, piercingly loud mall and stepped into the hot summer air.

Most people (or, more accurately, children) were heading for the busses that would shuttle people back into the town square or their respective neighborhoods, but your car waited for you in the exclusive Employees Only lot in the shade. As you turned to head that way, you bumped straight into a tall, firm figure.

Huh, you thought. He smells like hot fudge and maraschino cherries. I like those things.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I thought you were headed for the bus like everyone else.”

You looked up, squinting against the sun, and felt heat flood your cheeks when you realized that it was the hot ice cream scooper. “Oh, it’s, uh—“ you stammered nervously. It was never as easy as the phone line. “I was too.” You wanted to hit yourself. What the hell were you even talking about?

His brows furrowed. “You were what?“

Fuck. “I… uh— don’t know,” you finally said, ready for the conversation to end forever. “I’ll see you around.” And you were gone. You almost missed him calling after you.

You will?

But you pretended you’d never heard it.

——

Steve called at midnight, just as you brewed your second cup of coffee of the night. You took a quick sip as the call was directed your way, already feeling much more awake in anticipation of what lay ahead.

“Hey, Steve,” you greeted, adjusting your voice to that casual, sexy cadence that you had perfected. “I was thinking about you all day today.”

Steve responded with a dismissive psh. “I’m going to pretend that’s true, because I was thinking of you too,” he said, and you could hear his grin. “I kept screwing up at work because I’d get distracted thinking about you.”

You felt heat creep into your cheeks. “Baby, you’ll make me blush.” You paused, chewing on your lip briefly. “So… what’s in the cards for tonight, Steve? What do you want to do with me?”

He paused so long that you almost thought the call had dropped, but eventually he worked up the nerve to continue. “Well, you heard my fantasy last time. This time I want to hear yours.”

You snorted a laugh. “Steve, baby, that’s so incredibly sweet, but you could hate it, or think it’s boring, and then I’ll feel guilty for wasting your money.”

“I won’t,” he insisted. “C’mon, it’ll help us get to know each other better.”

You exhaled slowly through your nose, your tummy already fluttering with thoughts of the hot sailor shelling out dollar ice cream cones with extra sprinkles on top.

Fuck.

“Alright, but if you hate it, you’ve gotta promise me that you’ll tell me to shut up and we’ll do something else.” He hummed in affirmation and you laid back against your pillows, sighing as you closed your eyes and fell into your newfound, perfect little fantasy.

“So… when I’m not doing sexy phone calls, I work a menial job,” you begin. “And normally, I’d be, like, wearing an ugly polo or vest or something with our logo on it, but for the sake of sexiness, let’s say that I’m wearing a cute little dress and my hair looks, like, perfect.”

“What does your hair look like normally?” Steve asked, hung up on the one detail that was specifically for your sake. God, you wanted to burn your local salon to the ground.

“Uh,” you paused, wondering if you should tell the truth. “So I told my hairstylist to go for Kelly LeBrock and she… you know… tried. It looks so cute sometimes, and then other times it has a total mind of its own.”

“Oh, Kelly LeBrock! She’s such a babe. I saw the trailer for that movie she’s gonna be in. Total fox. Great hair.”

You tried to fight a smile, but couldn’t. “Do you wanna talk hair routines, or do you want me to keep going?”

Steve paused like he was genuinely considering it. “We’ll come back to the hair. I could probably help you figure it out, you know. I’ve got great hair.”

You smirked. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Use your imagination.”

You grinned. Oh, I am.

You were stocking shelves, as usual— except this time you couldn’t reach the top shelf. Standing on your tiptoes, the hemline of your skirt inching up and up and up. And suddenly there was a presence behind you, reaching up to stock the shelf for you. He smelled really nice, felt warm pressed up against your back.

“Am I the handsome stranger in this scenario?”

You said yes, even though you were mostly thinking about your mystery sailor from the mall. God, even the stupid uniform did it for you. Maybe it was the short shorts.

In the fantasy, the two of you didn’t even talk— really, your fantasies were typically pretty straight to the point, unlike Steve’s. The plot and dialogue would get skipped, and then suddenly, your back was pressed against the ridges of the shelves and the handsome stranger was on his knees in front of you, kissing sloppily up your thighs.

Usually, you’d have some sense of control— keep your hands above the belt. It was better for you that way. It gave you a sense of separation from what was real and what was happening on the phone. And, really, you never really had a particular need to touch yourself while you were handling the calls anyway.

And yet… Your hand slipped past the elastic hand of your panties, between your thighs where you were already wet and needy from just your own imagination. You gasped into the phone, bucking your hips into your own touch.

Steve made a choked sound, crackly through the phone’s speakers. He knew exactly what you were doing.

“Getting all worked up thinking about it, huh?” He asked, and you could hear a slight rustling and movement as he got himself undressed. It was honestly puzzling that it took that long, or that he didn’t call already ready to go. “Sound so pretty.”

You weren’t even aware that you were making a significant amount of noise, but Steve had keyed into it easily, hanging onto every sigh and whimper.

In your fantasy, his mouth was absolutely fucking sinful. He would moan against your cunt, nuzzling against your clit with his nose as he lapped up your slick. It was sloppy, and the sounds he made could have made the devil himself blush a burning red. His chin and mouth would drip with the combination of your juices and his spit— his fingernails leaving crescents in your thighs from where he held you tight.

When he looked up at you from between your thighs, his gaze would be equal parts hungry and sweet. He wanted it to feel good for you because the more you get off, the better it felt for him too. When he felt you getting closer and closer, he moved his fingertip to your entrance, teasing you with featherlight grazes that gathered your essence. He pressed in, just to his first knuckle, and relished in the way you would clench around him at the smallest intrusion before he gave it to you entirely.

Despite the shitty quality of the phone, which was probably your fault, since you had owned it since at least ‘78, you could hear the slick sounds of him stroking himself to your words. And, for once, you relished in that noise across the line.

You pushed a finger inside of yourself, then a second. Most guys you’d been with got that far then jammed them in and out at a wrist-killing speed until you faked it. Your thing was always just keeping them still, pressing against the sweet spot just barely a few inches inside. Paired with the dizzying pleasure of attention to your clit, the sensation was electric and all-consuming.

It felt too good to stop, and yet you knew you needed to make it through your fantasy before you came and that precious euphoria rushed over you. Because after the euphoria came that strange sense of disgust, and you couldn’t really afford to spend the rest of the call grossed out by what you were doing.

“Fuck, anyways,” you began, your breath coming in short pants. “He— you— would take off your shorts.” Stupid, tiny, tight shorts. “And, fuck, you’d already be so hard and needy. You just wanted me so bad. You would press me against the shelf and when you push into me it’d be so easy and slick and I’d feel so full.”

Your cunt pulsed around your fingers, so close to the edge that you could almost swear you were already over it. The precipice was so nice you almost didn’t mind waiting for it. You would hear Steve fucking his hand, pretty moans and grunts passing his lips as he brought himself closer. It wasn’t really fair to leave either one of you hanging much longer.

“You’d kiss me. And it would be a little messy, but we wouldn’t care. You’d taste good, and you’d feel good. Fuck, Steve. I need to cum so bad.”

He panted into the phone and you practically mewled. God, he sounded so much better than the gross old men you usually had to deal with. “Fuck, I’m right here with you,” he managed, his voice breathy and desperate. “Let me hear you.”

Your ears rang as you came, making the world go a bit fuzzy. Distantly, you could hear how pretty Steve sounded as he came. Honestly, you’d never been one to relish in that type of thing— most guys you’d hooked up with kind of grossed you out. But, god, you’d give anything to watch him get off. Your chest heaved, rising and falling with a shiny sheen of sweat.

“So…” Steve began, sounding a little more languid and a lot more blissed out. There was a sweet, carefree quality to his voice. “Your fantasy is having sex at work?”

You rolled your eyes and fought a grin. “Hey, I didn’t judge your hot, sweaty poolside fuck session.”

”That was about making love,” He insisted. Your heart stuttered a bit. You had to admit that was sweet. “And I’m not knocking your fantasy— I just can’t even imagine someone wanting to have sex with me in my uniform.”

You grinned. “Aw, you have a uniform? I bet you look really sexy in it.”

He huffed, an annoyed groan escaping his lips. “No, I hate my uniform and I’m counting the days until I can rip it off and throw it in, like, a bonfire.”

“I can help with the ripping it off part, y’know,” you teased.

“No,” he said firmly. “No, we’re not going there, because, one, I came so much I can’t even think about getting hard again or my dick will hurt, and two, if I start having workplace fantasies about you and my uniform I’ll get hard on the job and end up on a registry somewhere.”

“Alright, alright,” you said with a laugh. “I had fun tonight, Steve. I, uh, don’t really get a lot of people asking what I like. I don’t get anyone asking what I like, actually.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m just a pleaser, I guess.”

He said his goodnights just before hanging up, promising to call again soon. You didn’t have a clear idea of when soon was. You’d had long-term customers promise a call soon that just dropped off the face of the earth. You laid there listening to the dial tone until it started to hurt your ears, then put the phone back on the receiver.

The bed creaked on its ancient springs as you got up, padding out into the hallway. Outside the big window at the end of the hall, you saw a lamp switch off across the street, making the house go dark. It felt a little comforting to know that boring old Hawkins was awake just like you were.

In the bathroom, you washed your hands with cotton candy-scented soap and tugged at your misbehaving curls. Maybe you would take up Steve on his hair tips. Before you could think about Steve any longer, your phone rang again. And though part of you wished it would be Steve, you knew that there was such a thing as too soon to be ‘soon.’

There wasn’t really a point in pouting. It was decent money. You answered the phone, put on your fake voice, and got to work.

Steve called nearly nightly for the next month. If having a backyard school wasn’t proof enough he was loaded, his ability to pay your rates nightly sealed the deal.

It wasn’t always sexual. Well, to be fair, it was mostly sexual. No matter how much you looked forward to phone sex with Steve, you enjoyed talking to him just as much. You learned about his childhood dog, Walter, and his allegedly prodigy-like swimming skills. He was CPR certified, could say his ABCs in French (and nothing else), and loved the colors red, yellow, and blue.

You told him what you could without giving too much away. That Jenny, obviously, wasn’t your real name. Your favorite color, favorite book, favorite flower. You told him that you were in college, going back in the fall. That you only started doing this gig because textbooks were expensive and you wanted to be able to feed yourself while at school.

Without meaning to, you started to care about Steve. It was probably stupid, and definitely against everything you thought you stood for. But somehow, he managed to squeeze into the recesses of your brain and set up camp there. Try as you might, you couldn’t get him out of your mind.

“Alright, little Stevie, that’s your fifth wistful sigh of the day,” Robin said, marking a tally on her palm. It struck him as weird that she was counting, but it wasn’t exactly anything new. “You’ve gotta stop or I might actually start feeling bad for you.”

His chin rested in his hand, and he looked over at her with wide puppy dog eyes. “Can you love someone you’ve never met?”

Robin shrugged. “I dunno. Probably not, why?”

He sighed again, his shoulders sagging. “What if my dream girl isn’t exactly accessible? Like… she’s impossible to find and might not even live in Hawkins. She might live in, like, Indianapolis.”

Robin’s expression— the slight squint of her eyes and downturn to her lips— told him she didn’t particularly care. But the store was dead on a boring Tuesday, so digging into Steve’s life was about the only interesting thing to do on the job.

“That sucks,” she said slowly. “How do you know this mystery soulmate?”

Steve blanched, picking at his nails as he tried to consider a reasonable excuse. “Uh… Blind setup. Very blind setup.” Robin raised an eyebrow. “I only know her number, nothing else.”

“Name?” Steve shook his head glumly. “Damn. But you think you love this girl?” Steve nodded again, but felt a little dumb. He never did things in half-measures. Never felt things that way either, so it made sense to him, but maybe it was a little crazy.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to help you with your bad perm and give you advice about how to take care of it. He wanted to surprise you at your boring job with lunch and flowers. It had been a long time since he’d been this excited about someone.

A tinny beeping sound made him jolt, nearly slipping on the freshly mopped floor. Finally. He didn’t hesitate to tear off his work shirt, leaving him in the shorts and the white tee shirt he kept beneath it for this very reason— not having to walk out in public in full uniform.

He offered a quick bye to Robin and clocked out as quickly as he could. It had been only a week since Jenny had told him her favorite book, and he’d been saving up tips to pay for a copy at Waldenbooks.

There was a girl behind the counter with a messy ponytail that had half-fallen-out, music blaring from her headphones. It must’ve been a mixtape because it went from some Hall and Oates song to an older Queen one. A little disjointed, but not in bad taste. She was completely immersed in the novel in her hand, so much so that she didn’t notice his presence.

“Excuse me?” He asked, putting on a winning smile.

“What?” The girl in front of him blinked in surprise and tugged the headphones down around her neck. The music continued— saxophone and a dance beat. Staying Power. He liked that one. Once she’d paused it abruptly, she looked at him again, and he saw a glint of something in her eyes, like she recognized him.

“I’m looking for this book—“ He withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket, where he had scribbled the title down as Jenny told him about it. “Do you know if it’s in stock?”

She looked at the note, then chewed on her lip anxiously. “Mhmm.” She watched him again, like she was expecting something. It took a moment, but it clicked.

She’s the girl who bumped into him outside a month ago and said weird stuff! “Oh! You were right, I guess. About seeing me around.” He squinted, reading her name tag aloud.

“Hm?” She blinked a few times, like she was taken out of a daydream. “Oh. Yeah, sorry about all of that. I just had a long day and my brain was fried.”

He nodded. “I get that,” he replied. “Next thing I know I’ll wake up from scooping ice cream in my sleep.” She laughed at that, a smile splitting across her features. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Her expression faltered, just the tiniest bit. Almost enough that he wouldn’t notice, especially since she corrected it just as quickly. “I’ll go grab that book for you, ‘Kay? Just… stay here.”

She disappeared into the shelves, leaving him standing awkwardly at the counter. The store was oddly empty— he would’ve at least expected some nerdy kids like Dustin to be rooting around. When she returned, she seemed more nervous than before.

“Here, just take it—“ She said, shoving a beat-up-looking copy at him. His brows furrowed as he looked down at the copy in his hands. The cover was bent and torn in places. Corners of pages were dog eared, sticky note tabs stuck out from pages, and he could see glimpses of pen and highlighter. Noticing his confusion, she elaborated. “We’re out, but I had an old copy in my bag. I’ve already read it, so you can borrow it.”

He furrowed his brows. “Is that, like… allowed?”

“Probably!” She said with a startling lack of confidence. She swallowed, giving him an awkward smile. “Just bring it back when you’re done.”

He hesitated. “Uh… okay. Thanks.” He turned to walk away when she called out after him.

“Bye, Steve.”

He wondered why that sounded so familiar.

Fuck.

“I mean… what are the odds?” You spoke aloud as you paced your room. When your reflection caught your attention, you felt, and looked, like a madwoman. “It’s not him. It’s not him, and I’m not going to worry about it.”

Five minutes later, you sat up in bed, unable to focus on the book you were reading. It was going to keep bothering you unless you did at least a little digging. But, Jesus, where did you even start with something like this?

“Hey, Rhonda?” You called, popping your head out of your room. “Do you remember any hot underclassmen named Steve from high school?”

Rhonda Finley was the prettiest girl from the class of ‘83. And it wasn’t an exaggeration either, seeing as she was voted Most Beautiful and Miss Hawkins within the same school year. The fact that you were even friends felt like a strange coincidence, but there you both were regardless.

She carried all of her yearbooks into your room, settling onto the fluffy rug beside your bed.

“You said his name is Steve?” She asked from her spot on the floor. She flipped through the old yearbook with reverence— pausing to look at photos of herself on other pages. “Steve… stevestevesteve. What about Stephen Cranston? He did the morning announcements, he was decent.”

You glanced at his picture briefly and shook your head. “No, not him,” you replied. “He’s cuter. Uh… boyish is a good word to describe him. Sharp nose and warm eyes.”

Rhonda snorted, flipping another page. “Okay, Shakespeare.”

You chewed on your lip, watching her tab through until you made a squeak of recognition. The faintest glimpse of a younger Steve in a picture of a home economics class. “Ronnie, flip back,” you said, tapping her shoulder insistently. She did as you said and you pointed. “That’s him. Younger, but it’s him.”

She squinted, reading the small caption. “Sophomore Steve Harrington cooks up trouble in Mrs. Destefano’s Home Ec class!’” She laughed and flipped until she found the sophomore class portraits. “Yep. Steven Harrington.”

You sat back on your heels. “Huh.”

She closed the yearbook and glanced back at you. “I think I went to a pool party of his once,” Ronnie said, brows furrowed as she tried to find the memory. “He was friends with that freckle-y kid that my asshole ex was friends with. God, that was the night when we got into that screaming match and we broke up for like a month before he was begging for another chance.”

Pool party? You felt a knot in your stomach that you weren’t even sure you could have untangled at that point. Was it even possible that your mystery cute phone guy was the unbelievably attractive ice cream scooper at the mall?

No chance. You weren’t that lucky. And yet… maybe a seed of hope took root in your chest. And maybe… maybe you could get him to spill enough details to prove it.

——

Steve called you around midnight. Your heart leapt into your throat as you answered, thrumming and threatening to burst from nerves.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, a little tired. “I, uh, thought about you today.”

You could picture him so clearly— his soft hair, long legs, boyish charm. “Hope I wasn’t too distracting. Were you working today? What do you do?” You dug a little deeper with the question, trying to suss out any information you could.

“Yeah,” he replied with a sigh. “I work in food service at a mall I live near. It’s nothing to write home about, I guess, but it’s temporary until I start applying for the spring semester.”

Okay, so there’s no doubt about it anymore. It was Steve Harrington, the hot ice cream scooper in the sailor suit, who was calling your line every night. The same Steve Harrington who you’d bumped into twice after your shift.

You tried to push that aside and focus on the reason for the call.

“So I was a welcome distraction, then?”

He laughed. “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t.” He paused. “Did you, uh… think about me?”

The hope in his voice made your heart swell. “Of course I thought about you, baby. You’re my favorite caller.” You paused, debating your next move. “I’ve been thinking about getting you all needy and desperate for me all day. About hearing your pretty sounds.”

He fucking whimpered. “I’ve spent the entire night hard just waiting to call you.” You could hear him shuffle around on the other end of the call, presumably stripping off his remaining layers. “Didn’t want to be too desperate and call too fast.”

“Poor baby,” you cooed. “Can you do something for me? It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

“Mhmm.”

“Grab a pillow and lay on your stomach for me,” you instructed. Without hesitation, you could hear the staticky sound of movement on his end as he shifted. “This might sound weird, but—“

“You want me to… to like—“ he stammered nervously. “Hump it?”

You blanched, wondering if your perverse fantasies of the hot mall guy getting off had perhaps pushed him a bit too far. “I mean…. Only if you’re into it. We can do something else.”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I’ve… I mean— I’ve done it before.”

Oh. Butterflies buzzed around your tummy as you let yourself indulge in the mental image. “Yeah? Did it feel good?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. You could hear rustling on the phone, like he was trying to situate himself comfortably. “Just made a mess is all.”

Fucking hell. “You gonna make a mess for me tonight, then?” You asked, twirling the phone cord around your finger. He moaned in response, and you grinned. “Aw, did you already get started, sweetheart?”

He moaned out a confirmation and you grinned, letting your free hand trail down your belly and beneath the waistband of your panties. “You already sound so pretty, Steve. So good for me, doing exactly what I say.”

The breathy sounds of his pants and moans made slickness gather between your thighs. Sounded like he hadn’t been lying about being hard and desperate all night just anticipating the call. “We’re not gonna talk tonight, we’re just gonna listen to each other,” you told him.

Maybe it was unfair to him that you had the perfect mental image of him in your head since you already knew what he looked like. You relished in that knowledge as you coated your fingers in your wetness and rubbed small circles around your clit.

Steve was loud, which made you wonder if his neighbors hated him. If you had to live next door to Steve Harrington and his pornstar moans, you’d probably go crazy. You were going crazy just from being on the other end of the phone. You were louder than usual too— it was a miracle that Rhonda worked nights.

It wasn’t long before you both finished— gasping and moaning into the phone’s receiver. You sighed as you laid back against your pillows, completely sated and content as you listened to Steve’s shaky breaths.

“How’re you feeling?” You asked, fighting the desire to twirl your hair around your fingers.

“Good,” he said finally. “Gonna have to do laundry, wash my sheets. I probably needed to anyway.” He paused. “I picked up a copy of that book you were talking about. It’s actually funny, ‘cause they were out of copies apparently, but the girl behind the counter let me have hers. Like it was meant to be, or something.”

Your heart hammered. “That’s really sweet, Steve,” you said softly. “I’m sorry in advance if you hate it.”

“I won’t!” He insisted. “I read the first couple of pages while I waited to call. I’m not the best reader, though. Might take me a while to finish it, but I do like it so far.”

You were partially convinced that you were in love with Steve Harrington, despite the fact that he wouldn’t even recognize you on the street. “This might be… I mean, maybe it’s crossing a line, and I could totally get fired for even suggesting… but—“ You hesitated. Fuck it. “I want to give you my personal line. So you don’t have to pay to talk to me. It’s not fair if we’re both enjoying the conversations but only one of us is paying, you know?”

He was quiet, almost too quiet. Nerves stirred in your belly. “Is that… you know, okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he said quickly. “Let me just grab a pen.”

You couldn’t help but stare longingly down into the atrium of the mall, where Steve Harrington was sweeping crumbs off of one of the booths inside Scoops Ahoy.

“Hello?” A kid snapped his fingers a few times and you swallowed down your annoyance as you turned. “We called earlier about Ender’s Game. The guy on the phone said he’d hold three copies. It’s under Mike.”

You glanced behind you, where the books clearly weren’t. Fuck Greg for making your menial job even worse. “It must’ve slipped his mind. I can grab those for you.” The kid made a bitchy face as you stepped away from the counter and you bit your tongue to keep from saying something rude. Fucking latchkey kids.

When you returned with three copies of the book, you looked at the kids skeptically. “By the way, if you stole any of the pencils or bookmarks, my boss is going to take it out of my paycheck and I won’t be able to feed my kids.”

“It costs thirty cents to feed your kids?”

You sighed and rang them up, but they continued to loiter in the shelves while you pretended to be busy.

“There’s nothing to do,” one of them said after picking up a copy of Sports Illustrated briefly. “We should just go back to my house and play Atari.”

A red-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Lucas, we’re not playing Pong again.” She paused and glanced down towards the food court. “We could go see Steve.”

It took all your willpower not to react.

“Why do you always want to go see Steve?” Lucas asked. “It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything.”

“She just wants to see him because she’s got some weird crush on him,” the bitchy one said. Mike? The red-haired girl blushed nearly as fiery as her hair and shoved Mike hard. “What? We all know it. You and El are always drooling over him. It’s weird.”

“He’s nice, okay? Way nicer than you are, asshole.” She shoved past the group and left on her own, leaving the other two guys to scramble after her. One kid was left behind, the one with the unfortunate bowl cut. He offered a wave before he followed after them.

When they got downstairs, you watched him greet the redhead with a smile and a ruffle of her hair. Lucas and the bowl-cut kid got a slap on the back, and the bitchy one got a half-smile that wasn’t returned.

Then he shelled out free ice cream, which was evident because none of them made a move to pay.

After they left, you watched him reach into his own wallet and cover the cost, placing the bills carefully into the cash register.

The rest of your shift was spent fawning over Steve and flipping through issues of the magazines you had on display. You felt idiotic gazing at Steve Harrington with puppy dog eyes while reading Top Ten Ways to Know if He’s Really Into You! Of course he wasn’t into you— he didn’t even know who you were, not really.

Around two in the afternoon, you were snapped out of your reverie by the sight of Steve walking through the threshold of the shop, looking around the shop before his gaze settled on you and lit up in recognition.

“Hi!” He said, nearly knocking over a carefully displayed unofficial biography of Reagan on his way over. You smiled, straightening your posture as he approached. “I wanted to thank you for the book.”

Your heart thumped. “Oh, you don’t need to thank me,” you insisted. “I just wanted to help.”

He reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out two coupons to Scoops Ahoy with a flourish. They advertised free ice cream in the nautical scrawl. “Does this change your mind?” He raised his brows and smiled smugly.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed them, reading the fine print. Valid only at the Starcourt Mall location on weekdays between 8am and 11am. Offer not valid in conjunction with any other deals. Offer excludes banana splits, sundaes, and the U.S.S. Butterscotch.

“Maybe,” you replied. “Is free ice cream your thing or something? I saw you give that group of kids free sundaes earlier.”

He furrowed his brows, considering it, then grinned. “Are you watching me?”

Fuck. You spluttered, shaking your head as you fumbled through a response. “No. They were here first, then talked about going to see you, and then I just…” He laughed and leaned over the desk slightly, as if testing the view.

“Oh, yeah. Perfect view from here.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat burning in your cheeks. “So you come here to thank me with shitty coupons, and then you accuse me of spying on you?”

He shook his head as he leaned back. “Hey, it’s not accusing you if it’s true.” He was so smug. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. See you around?” He looked at you expectantly until you nodded, face burning hot. He smiled, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked out casually like he hadn’t just totally caught you creeping on him.

God, you were going to make him pay for that later.

——

Steve paced around his room as he tried to gain the courage to call you. He would have liked to say that he needed to get your number from his Rolodex, but he’d memorized it nearly the moment he put it down on paper.

He was thinking of you, but he was also thinking about the girl from the mall who seemed to keep popping up. There was something about her, the way he was drawn to her, the way she spoke, the way she looked at him. It was all so familiar and easy, like they’d known each other forever.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Finally, he settled on his bed, dressed only in a thin white tank top and boxers that were a size too big since he stopped working out as much. With nerves buzzing in his ears, he dialed your number and waited.

And waited. And waited. He swallowed hard, wondering if you’d given him a fake number just to be rid of him. The number went to the answering machine, and his mouth went dry.

“Hi! You’ve reached Y/N Y/L/N. I’m out right now, but leave your name and number at the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” A beep sounded and Steve hung up suddenly. His stomach sank.

He wasn’t supposed to know your real name like that. It felt like some gross intrusion. And yet, he repeated it over and over again in his mind. Why did it seem so familiar?

On his nightstand, the beat up paperback he had borrowed stood out like a sore thumb. Oh. The book, the same book you, Jenny, had told him about. And the girl who worked there… Y/N.

It was too much, far too much to be a coincidence. He grabbed the book and opened it to look at the inside cover, where your name, Jenny’s name was scrawled inside. Because you and Jenny were the same person.

Every single conversation leading up to that point played over in his mind. The messy perm, the shitty job with the ugly polo, the fantasy about being pushed against the shelves and fucked. Oh, God. And you were totally spying on him.

It should’ve been an absolute win for him, but his stomach turned as he glanced over at the phone on the receiver. You were gorgeous and funny and smart and so sexy. Why would you want to be with someone who needed to call a sex hotline?

He could just picture the look on your face when you discovered that the guy who worked in the stupid uniform at Scoops was so pathetic that he needed to call someone to get attention.

He swallowed hard, guilt and doubt settling icy in his stomach. He put the book down, and didn’t call back.

——

Steve was sulking during his shift. Probably biting the heads off of a few too many kids who asked for a few too many samples.

“Jesus, how many times do you need to try cotton candy?” He snapped as he dug out a tiny spoonful of the pink and blue ice cream. The kid furrowed his brows up at him, puzzled by the sudden outburst.

“Uh, can I try Cherries Jubilee next?” He asked hesitantly.

Steve exhaled slowly through his nose. “No, you’re done. Out.”

The kid rolled his eyes, swore under his breath, and stomped out of Scoops Ahoy.

Robin was staring at him funny when he turned around, a mix of curiosity and amusement. “You’re totally PMSing today.”

He couldn’t manage more than a scowl in response. “Shut up.”

Robin laughed and tossed a cherry at him, which he managed to catch before it splattered against the glass of the ice cream case. He hated maraschino cherries— the artificial sweetness and unnatural color. But, hey, he could tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue.

He hadn’t called you for three days, which felt like the longest stretch of time in his life. And he hadn’t even seen you around Starcourt, which was both a good thing and absolutely unbearable.

Part of him wanted to just jump on the escalator and see if you were sitting behind the counter at Waldenbooks, but he knew it was better to just have a clean break. Maybe in a few months, you’d forget about that Steve guy who’d called you and he could make his move then.

The shift change hit around lunchtime, and Steve prepared for the influx of people who were getting off work on empty stomachs. As he suspected, the line stretched out the door and he was practically up to his elbows in ice cream, mindlessly scooping flavor combinations that should’ve been illegal. Until—

“Hey, Steve,” you said, standing in front of him in your ugly work polo with messy hair half-fallen out of your ponytail. “Staying busy?”

He stammered nervously and mumbled out an unintelligible response. “Ice cream?” Was all that he could manage to ask, which made him want to throw himself into the fountain right in the middle of the food court.

But you just smiled. “A shake, actually. Chocolate banana if that’s possible.” He nodded and got to work, thankful for the distraction. Your eyes followed his every movement as he made your shake, but he couldn’t let himself look at you.

Because if he did really look at you, all he’d be able to think about were the phone calls you’d had— the calls where he’d heard you cum with breathy gasps and pants and soft whimpers. And— Jesus Christ— he was thinking about it and it made him feel dizzy.

He used a little bit too much whipped cream and put rainbow sprinkles on top for God knows why, but he handed it to you with a weak smile.

“Three bucks, right?” You asked, nodding to the menu.

“Uh, you can just have it,” he said without even thinking. “On the house.”

You furrowed your brows for a moment, but smiled brightly. “Really? Thanks, Steve. I appreciate it.” You took a sip and gave a soft moan at the flavor that made a full-body chill run through him. “See you around?”

“Yeah. See you.” You gave a small wave before you disappeared into the food court. He watched you the whole way, like you were the only person in the room.

Fuck. He was hard. Like, rock hard and the stupid apron on the uniform only made it more obvious. He’d fucking pavloved himself to get turned on just by your voice.

“Robin, I’m taking my fifteen,” he said, darting into the back before she could protest. He stepped inside the walk-in freezer and propped the door with a crate of waffle cones. After about five minutes, he felt like he could actually think again.

“Fuck,” He muttered under his breath. He had to call you again.

You were sincerely considering quitting the hotline. After Steve, just listening to the other guys panting and blowing their loads on the phone was nauseating. They didn’t care to learn more about you, not the way he did. They just wanted to get their rocks off to an anonymous, sexy voice.

Then again, Steve had disappeared too. Maybe giving him your real number had crossed a line. Maybe it freaked him out that you were taking it beyond a transaction. You sighed and wrapped yourself tighter in your house coat. Rhonda always kept the AC on overdrive in the summer, which meant you needed at least two blankets to be comfortable.

When the phone rang, you picked it up without thinking, half expecting it to be Rhonda calling you to check in during her break.

“Hey,” you said absentmindedly, leaning back against your pillows.

“This is, uh— this is the right number, right? It’s Steve.”

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest at the sound of his voice. “Hey, yeah, it’s the right number,” you assured. You wriggled out of your housecoat and tossed it to the side so you could get more comfortable. “How are you? It’s been a few days.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I, uh,” he paused. “I think I psyched myself out of calling you.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well, I’m glad you did call. I really missed you.”

“You did?”

You laughed, letting yourself get more comfortable. “Mhmm,” you replied. “I mean, we’ve been talking everyday for a while, you know?”

“I missed you too, couldn’t stop thinking about you, even at work.” You smiled, remembering how absentminded he had seemed when you showed up in the ice cream parlor. And he was thinking about you. Not you, but still you. “I— uh— had to walk into our deep freezer to cool myself off.”

“How long has it been for you?” You asked suddenly. “Like, since you’ve had sex.”

Steve chuckled nervously. “I dunno… two months?” He paused. “Is that lame?”

“Nuh-uh, baby,” you assured. “Think it’s sweet. No wonder you’re all needy all the time. You need a nice, tight, wet pussy to sink into, hm?”

A low moan escaped his lips. “God—“

“Better than your hand, isn’t it?” You teased. “I bet you’re so desperate that you’ve been touching yourself this whole time, even before you called me. Isn’t that right?”

The closest thing you got in response was another pretty moan. “You’re big too, aren’t you?” You mused aloud, not even waiting for a response. “I know you are, you’ve basically told me in not so many words. Most girls can’t handle that, baby. It’s not your fault. That’s okay, we could take it slow, you could get me all nice and stretched for you, take your time like the gentleman you are.”

“Fuck— fuck—“ His words came out choked and desperate. You could almost picture it— the way he’d be fucking up into his hand, needing more and more.

“I bet you always have to take it real slow, huh? Gotta be careful so you don’t hurt someone. But that just means you can feel everything better, doesn’t it? Inch by inch by inch, every flutter and squeeze. And you can see on their faces how good it feels, can’t you? You can watch their eyes roll back and their mouths fall open while they cry out for you. I mean, Jesus, Steve, I bet most girls come before you’re even all the way inside.”

His hand sped up, desperate and needy, just as you’d said. You could hear it with each wet slap of skin against skin. His moans were constant, a stream of yesahgodfuckohshitahyesahfuckfuckfuck— until the prettiest moan escaped his lips, all low and deep, and you knew he’d made a pretty mess of himself.

“Bet that felt really nice,” you said while he panted on the other end of the line.

He made a weak noise, then finally managed a, “Uh-huh. Fuck.”

You laughed softly. “That’s gotta be the fastest I’ve gotten you off,” you said finally. “I like having that much power over you. It turns me on so much.”

He groaned. “Fuck, give me five— no— ten minutes. I can barely breathe right now.”

You grinned, relishing in your ability to torture him a bit after he’d teased you at work. Unknowingly, of course, but still. “I dunno if I can wait that long, Steve… I’m so wet that my thighs are all sticky.”

“God, you’re killing me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics. “Why don’t you lay there and listen to me? Be good and keep your hands off, alright? You already came, so don’t get greedy.”

He made a nearly pained noise. “Fine. Fine.”

A smirk spread across your lips as you let your hand move between your thighs. Really, you weren’t exaggerating that much— you found yourself slick and needy when you finally slid your panties down your thighs. Actually, you thought you’d probably have to be a statue to hear Steve Harrington panting and cumming over the phone and stay unaffected.

You could hear his breath catch with every soft moan and whimper, and maybe you got mean and held the phone near your tummy, so he could hear just how wet and messy you’d gotten as you steadily fucked yourself with your fingers. When you got desperate enough, you held the phone against your ear once more.

“I dunno, Steve… I don’t think my fingers can cut it,” you said, exaggerating the pouty tone of your voice. “I wish you were here to take care of me.”

He groaned, low and muffled. You had a feeling he’d thrown an arm over his face. “You’re so unfair.”

A smile spread across your lips at his words. “No, baby. What’s unfair is that I’m laying here all alone, feeling so empty and needy, and you’re not here to make it all better.” You reached into your nightstand, pulling out the dildo you’d bought for your twentieth birthday. “‘S okay, I can take care of myself just fine. You ever been to a sex shop?”

It got quiet on the line, and you could nearly hear the gears turning.

“N-no.”

You raised a brow. “Really? But you know what they sell, don’t you?” You paused until he hummed a soft uh-huh. “It’s only fair that I get to use a toy to fill myself up since you can’t do it for me, right?”

“Y-yeah, wanna hear you do it.”

You grinned. “Patience, baby. Gotta get it wet first so it glides in nice and easy.”

Blowing a rubber dick wasn’t how you’d envisioned ending your day, but— what can you say?— spontaneity is the spice of life. You made sure he heard every wet pass of it between your lips, every exaggerated gag as you took it into your throat, the messy smack of your lips. It tasted like a tire and dish soap, but the desperate, restrained sounds he was making made it all worth it.

Your eyes were watery when you finally pulled the toy from your mouth, certain you’d adequately worked him up for the time being. Plus, you were worked up just as much, if not more— you wanted to just fuck yourself into oblivion already.

Instinctively, your thighs fell farther apart as you moved the toy between your legs. You let the tip tease your entrance, only a little, before you began to push it inside. A soft moan fell from your lips as you finally got the nice, full feeling you’d been dreaming of.

You laid there for a moment, letting your body adjust to it, reveling in it. With your free hand, you slowly circled your clit until your cunt fluttered around the intrusion.

“Feels so nice,” you sighed, lips brushing against the mouthpiece of the phone. You felt drunk and hazy with desire. “Like I’m so close already that I can taste it.”

“Make yourself come for me,” he practically begged. “Wanna hear it.”

You moaned at his words, but shook your head. “Can’t yet. I wanna make this last.”

Time felt a little hazy as you kept working the toy in and out, slow and deep. Occasionally, you’d brush against your clit just right, or the toy would find a nice spot inside of you, and your entire body would tremble with need.

Steve’s breath came in pants over the phone, but you couldn’t tell if he had broken and actually started to touch himself. You kind of hoped he did, even if you wouldn’t say it.

Eventually, you came without warning— the build-up of it all made it impossible to avoid. Once you started over that edge, you couldn’t crawl back even if you’d wanted to. Moans fell from your lips as you succumbed to your orgasm; every nerve was like a live wire. When it finally came to be too much, you slipped the toy out and relaxed onto your bed with a contented sigh.

“Are you still alive?” You asked, quiet crackling over the phone.

“Uh… yeah,” he replied, a little distracted. “Have you ever come without having to touch yourself?”

You laughed softly. “Once. I read in Cosmo that some girls can get off just from playing with their tits. Took a while, but I eventually got there. Why?”

“I just, uh… listening to you, all the noises and hearing how wet you were… I guess that was all it took.” He sounded so embarrassed, but it was the cutest fucking thing you’d ever heard. You could imagine it so clearly, his cock pulsing against his twitching stomach, cum making puddles around his navel.

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” you said with a smile. “You’re probably exhausted, huh?”

He laughed a bit. “A little, but I can stay up and talk, if you’re free.”

Ever the gentleman, Steve stayed up another hour to talk about whatever you could think of to keep the conversation running. The new collection at The Gap, whether or not he planned to see Back to the Future, his favorite music got him talking for half an hour at least. Finally, you were yawning and beat.

“Steve, baby, I should go to sleep,” you said, almost apologetically.

“That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You froze, brows furrowing. “What?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeated, sleepily. “At the mall.”

“Um… night,” you said quickly, panicking slightly as you hung up the phone.

Steve had mopped the same spot on the floor five times during his shift, all while sparing fleeting glances towards Waldenbooks, where you were immersed in a magazine or a book. Always doing anything but looking down at him.

Which was good… maybe? He couldn’t quite decide.

He hadn’t been thinking when he said that on the phone. But he was sleepy, and his brain was a little foggy, and then he’d gone and doubled down.

As soon as he hung up the phone, he remembered that he had given his real name, and you knew he worked in food service, and you knew he wore a stupid uniform. That narrowed it down really easily.

So he spent his shift in a constant state of dread and panic, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

By the time the mall was closing, he had occupied himself with wiping down tables. He let Robin head home and pulled out his Walkman to keep him company. Since working at Starcourt, he made a pretty sick collection of tapes that wound up in the lost and found. This one was a metal mix, which typically wasn’t his thing, but was growing on him.

He didn’t realize you were standing over him until you rapped twice on the table, drawing his eyes up, up, up until they were locked with yours. He scrambled to pause the tape and stand up, adjusting his stupid uniform as an embarrassed blush grew on his cheeks.

“Hi,” you greeted. Your Waldenbooks vest hung loosely on your form, right on top of a pink polo.

“Hi,” he echoed. It was quiet for a second, as he tried to think of what to say, and as you scrambled for the words you’d been practicing all day. “I’ve known it was you for a while.” The words escaped him before he could stop himself, and then he just stared at you, completely mortified.

You laughed, covering your face for a moment as heat flooded your cheeks. “You knew? I didn’t even— I mean, I didn’t realize. Because I knew it was you calling. For a while, actually.

He grinned, leaning forward. “So… the guy you said you wanted to… against the shelves…?” When you ducked your head and looked away, he smiled like the cat who got the cream. “No way. You were totally perving on me, even before!”

“You had to walk into a deep freezer to cool off because you were thinking about me, perv.” He laughed, and you wanted to kiss him so badly it freaked you out a little. “So… What do we do now? I mean, now that you know who I am, and I know who you are, and we’re going to keep running into each other.”

Your poor cuticles were going through the wringer— red and stinging where you picked at them due to nerves. There was nothing you wanted more than for him to just sweep you into his arms like some kind of fairytale and promise his undying devotion. Or just say he wanted to date you. Whichever.

“I could take you on a date,” he said sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. “I mean, if your type is total pervs who spend most of the week in sailor uniforms.”

Oh, you had plans for that sailor uniform. You stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I think you just might be in luck.” He turned his head, just slightly, so he could capture your mouth with his.

The kiss was sweet, at first. Slow brushes of his lips against yours. They tasted sweet, like he’d been wearing lip smackers or something. Or maybe he’d been sneaking samples of the ice cream. He pulled you closer and you gasped, offering him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned softly at the feeling of your tongue licking against his.

He picked you up easily, sitting you down on the table he should’ve been cleaning. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck. It was easy to lose yourself in the hungry, desperate way Steve kissed. You could’ve stayed right there in the middle of Scoops making out with him until the mall opened in the morning, and still not have found the motivation to stop.

A bright light startled you back into reality, shining directly in your faces. You and Steve squinted in the general direction, as Starcourt security stomped your way.

“Hey! Get the fuck home,” He shouted, with equal amounts of exasperation and annoyance. He clicked off the flashlight and walked away with a huff and an eye roll, leaving you and Steve alone.

Steve’s cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment as he stepped back, but he still wore a dopey grin on his lips. You hopped off the table and adjusted your skirt with a light laugh.

“That was nice,” You said as you tucked a loose curl behind your ear. “I should leave you to it, I guess. Before we both end up in mall jail.”

He shook his head quickly. “No! I mean, you could hang out here until I’m done. I just have a few more tables to clean and chairs to stack, if you want to—” He trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

A sly grin spread across your features. “What? Are you trying to go home with me or something?” He stammered nervously, that same, cute blush growing on his cheeks. Before he could say anything, you took a step closer and peered up at him. “Because if you are, I might tell you that my roommate works nights at Hawkins General, and we’d have it conveniently all to ourselves.”

He swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do.”

You sat in the booth nearest to the entrance of the parlor, flipping through a magazine you’d grabbed from work. Occasionally, you’d sneak tiny peeks of Steve bent over a table to wipe it down, uniform stretched tight over his ass, and grin behind the pages.

He got everything locked up in what he claimed was record time, flashing a smile as he closed up shop behind the two of you.

”Do you work tomorrow?” You asked, as casually as possible as the two of you approached your cars in the employee lot.

“Yep. Afternoon shift,” he explained.

“I’ll drive you. We’ll carpool tonight.”

The car ride was relatively tame, a few stolen glances at stoplights at most. When you brought him inside the house, your phone was ringing off the hook. You apologized and ushered him into your room, where, true enough, the spare phone you used for the hotline was ringing nonstop.

“Sorry, let me just…” You grabbed the phone and hung it up once, before taking it off the receiver completely. “There. No interruptions.”

Steve grinned, surveying your room carefully. The set of pom-poms from high school on a shelf, a stack of Cosmopolitan magazines, the chair full of your laundry— fuck, you should’ve definitely taken a moment to speed clean before letting him inside.

“So… what do you say we pick up where we left off?” You stood on your tiptoes and pecked his lips chastely before guiding him towards your bed. As soon as he sat down, you wasted no time in crawling into his lap and kissing him with all of the pent-up frustration of weeks of phone calls.

You kissed him for so long you’d have to come up panting for air, before diving right back in. His hands— Jesus, you’d never noticed how big his hands were— were splayed out over your hips at first, but had moved down to grab your ass, encouraging each movement as you rocked against him.

Without breaking the kiss, you shrugged off your work vest, so it fell into a heap over the side of your bed. He pulled back, chest heaving slightly as he caught his breath. His lips were swollen from use and spit-slick. His eyes moved from the vest on the ground, then back to your eyes. A tiny laugh escaped you before you pulled off your top, then your bra.

“This still okay?” You asked, as you stood briefly and tugged down your denim skirt. The sound of your voice felt almost foreign in the quiet room, while he took in the sight of you in nothing but a pair of panties.

“God, more than okay,” he assured, before pulling you onto his lap for another heated kiss. This kiss was needier— you could feel it in the hungry way he licked into your mouth, and the feel of him hard beneath you. Tiny gasps pushed past your lips as you rocked against him just right.

He moved his hands from you only to pull off his work shirt, and the white shirt he wore beneath it. Your hands immediately went to his chest, running through the chest hair he’d hidden beneath the uniform. How the fuck did he manage to walk out of his house without being immediately pounced on by every woman in a five-mile radius?

He placed one final kiss on your lips before pulling back and meeting your gaze. As earnestly as you’d ever, he asked, “Can I go down on you?”

Yes. Fuck, yes. Oh my god, yes. “Sure, if you want to.”

He smiled wide. “Yeah? Just relax for me, alright?” He shifted the two of you, so you were lying on the bed and he was on top of you. He planted a chaste peck on your nose, and you wrinkled it in reaction.

You kissed him one, fleetingly, before letting him kiss down your chest and tummy. He parted your thighs and carefully positioned himself between them. You met his gaze and felt your stomach somersault. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the damp fabric of your panties.,

“Fuck,” he mumbled against you. “You’re soaking for me, huh?” And there was that cocky grin you’d seen at the mall before. You had to lie back and put a hand over your eyes, because if you thought about that fucking smug expression for too long, you’d cum untouched.

He ran his tongue over the fabric of your panties, tasting you through the saturated satin once, twice before he pulled them down your legs. And he fucking moaned like a man starved at the sight of you.

Heat burned in your cheeks as you felt him spreading you open, and at the slick, wet sounds of your own arousal. “You’re so pretty.” And then his tongue was on you, lapping up your juices, savoring all of you.

“O-oh, fuck—“ Your moan came out like a sob as his nose brushed against your clit, making your thighs tremble. He moaned against your cunt, nuzzling deeper like he couldn’t get enough.

In retrospect, he had brought up how much he loved eating pussy a lot on that first call. Your hips bucked slightly, torn between chasing the feeling and overstimulation. His lips would wrap around your clit and suck softly before he would go back to lapping at you, his tongue parting your folds and teasing your entrance.

“St-Steve!” You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair. The slightest tug on his locks made him moan against you, which made your toes curl.

Your moans became pitchy and breathless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. All of your muscles were wound up tight, itching for release.

All it took was a little bit of eye contact and you were done for. You sobbed out a moan as he lapped up your release— each lap of his tongue sending electricity up your nerves. When he finally relented, you were shaking with aftershocks and giggling.

“Something funny?” He asked with a grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You sighed and spared a glance over at him. “I’ve been dreaming of that happening since our first call.” He grinned as you pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips.

“Did it meet your expectations?” He asked, swallowing nervously as you shifted to accommodate your hand between the two of you. His eyes fluttered shut as your hand slipped beneath his work shorts and boxers to grasp his cock in your hand.

You gave a slow, experimental stroke of your hand and nodded. “Two thumbs up.”

He swallowed hard as you removed your hand to completely undress him, leaving you both completely naked. You spit into your hand and wrapped it back around his length, holding eye contact as you jerked him off.

There was something so surreal about the entire situation— having him beneath you, warm and pulsing and slick in your hand. Each time your thumb brushed along the head of his cock, he cried out with the prettiest moan.

“W-wait—“ he said quickly, a look of panic in his eyes. You stilled your hand as he looked at you, a pretty blush painting his cheeks. “I’m not gonna last.”

You bit your to keep from grinning like an idiot. “That’s okay,” you said with a smile. You reached into your bedside table and retrieved a condom. “Do you want to, uh, go all the way?”

He nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

You tore open the packet and rolled the condom on. “How’s that feel? Alright?” He gave a dorky thumbs up, which made you laugh. You leaned down to kiss him once more and wondered if you’d ever get tired of that feeling.

You reached between the two of you and guided his tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal until you grew too needy and lined him up with your entrance. It was a stretch, even though he’d gotten you plenty worked up with his mouth. You sank down slowly, one hand splayed against his chest to keep you steady as you took in inch after inch.

The sounds that escaped him as you lowered yourself onto him were so pornographic you thought he should be the one working the hotline instead. Desperate panting moans slipped past his full lips as his hands clawed at your hips.

“Fuck,” he moaned, eyes half-lidded as he watched you. “That’s it. You can take it.”

The mouth on him. You moaned softly as you finally settled onto his lap and he was fully sheathed within you. You stayed still, letting your body adjust to and relish in how full you felt.

“You look so pretty right now,” he said, reaching up to brush a messy hair from your face. You laughed softly as your cheeks warmed, and a funny fluttering in your chest nearly stole your breath.

“Says you,” was all you could manage to say back. You were hyper-aware of the feeling of him within you, of each flutter of your walls around him.

You gave an experimental roll of your hips and his head fell back, against the pillows, exposing the column of his throat. You relished in the way he looked beneath you— debauched and needy.

It was easy and slow at first. Each time you moved, you would lower yourself back down slowly, letting him savor the feeling of you, warm and wet and needy. He groaned each time you settled back on his lap, eyes hooded with lust as he looked up at you.

You gave a lazy smile as you looked down at him, moaning each time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Can I go a little faster?”

He nodded, eager for whatever you could give him. Your nails raked against his chest as you began to ride him in earnest, the back of your thighs slapping against his as you bounced on his cock.

Your head fell back as you rubbed at your clit with your free hand. Soft moans spilled from your lips as you relished in the culmination of all of your fantasies. Because he was there, splayed out beneath you like a fucking pornstar, and you had him all to yourself.

His fingers dug into the plush of your hips as he began meeting your thrusts halfway, fucking into the heaven between your thighs.

Your eyes rolled back as he fucked himself deeper and deeper, stealing your breath with each thrust. “Close,” you practically squeaked out. Red marks stood out against the freckles skin of his chest where you searched desperately for purchase.

Steve’s hair was stuck to his forehead, tacky from exertion. “Need you to cum for me,” he managed between pretty moans. “Wanna feel you cumming around me.”

You whimpered at his words, riding him harder as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. A fucked-out moan escaped you as you collapsed against his chest, hips weakly stuttering as Steve continued fucking up into you. With your pussy gripping him like a vise, he could only manage a few good thrusts before he came with a groan.

You laid there on top of him as you caught your breath, wearing a stupid, giddy smile as he traced mindless shapes onto your back. His face was buried in your neck, where he left sweet, wet kisses. After a while, you slid off of him and sighed, missing the way it felt when he was still buried inside of you. You did your best to clean yourself off with the towel hanging from your bedpost as Steve tied off the condom and tossed it in the bin.

“We’re not just…” Steve began once you were both comfortable in your bed. He let the words linger for a moment before he shook his head. “Never mind.”

You turned on your side to face him, adjusting your blankets for a bit of modesty. “We’re not just fucking? That’s what you’re asking, right?” He nodded quietly. “It was nice, but no, that’s not all I want.”

He grinned. “Yeah? You wanna be my girlfriend? I totally pulled a cougar.” His stupid grin made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t keep a matching smile off of yours.

“You’re so annoying,” you said, not giving him a second to react before your lips were on his again. You pulled back and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

In the morning, you woke up in his arms as sunlight crept through the window. You squinted at the sun, then back at him. “Still want me to drive you to work?”

“No way,” he said, muffled against the column of your throat. Soft kisses peppered against your skin, making you giggle and arch into him. “I’m calling in.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #okayyyy enjoy :)

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jezebelblues · 1 month ago

Text

so not cool | h.s

summary: in which spiderman is obviously much cooler than dad

cw: dadrry. overuse of the word spider-man. u could play a drinking game by how much its mentioned prolly

word count: approx 1.7k

| the result of being up for 20h, writers block n being bored out of my mind !! idk what this is but…it’s..definitely an addition to the dadrry universe .. for sure (prob will delete 🔥)

not necessary but here’s the first dadrry post if ur into that

masterlist

July 2021

The sound of the credits rolling filled the living room as Harry leaned back against the couch, a sleepy grin tugging at his lips. Atlas, now three years old and still wide-eyed with excitement, sat curled up against his father’s side, his tiny fingers clutching the corner of a fleece one direction blanket that Harry had bought off Etsy, something he found to be absolutely hilarious. They had just finished watching the original Spider-Man movie, the one with Tobey Maguire, and Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at the awe that was practically radiating off his son.

“Dad,” Atlas breathed, his voice filled with wonder as he looked up at Harry with those big, round eyes that mirrored his mother’s. “Pider-man s’cool.”

They were working on his pronunciation of R’s and S’s. Not too much progress yet.

Harry bit back a laugh, ruffling his son’s messy curls as he glanced down at him. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool, isn’t he?”

Atlas nodded vigorously, his little legs kicking against the couch as his excitement bubbled over. “He climbs n’ has webs n’ fights ba’guys!”

Harry grinned, watching the way Atlas’s face lit up as he recounted all of the abilities with the fervor only a toddler could muster. His little hands gestured wildly as if he were mimicking shooting webs out of his wrists.

“Best superhero in’a whole world!” Atlas declared, sitting up straighter as if this revelation were the most important one he’d ever made.

Harry chuckled, reaching over to grab the remote and lower the volume on the TV. “Better than Batman?”

“Super much better.” Atlas exclaimed, his voice incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe Harry would even ask such a thing.

“Better than Iron Man?” Harry tried again, his tone teasing as he listed off another iconic hero.

His boy paused for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration as he thought it over. His little hand lifted to his chin in the same way Harry often did when he was deep in thought, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of it. After a moment, Atlas shook his head decisively. “M’yeah. Way cooler.”

Harry leaned back against the couch, folding his arms as he played along. “So, that’s it? Peter Parker’s just the best?”

“Yeah!” Atlas said excitedly, jumping off the couch and running around the living room, pretending to shoot webs from his wrists. “He’s fast ‘nd he can climb buildings like this!” He hopped up on the couch and began to scale the back of it with his small, wobbly legs, pretending he was on the side of a skyscraper.

Harry leaned forward, his hands hovering near Atlas to catch him in case he lost his balance. “Easy there, spidey,” he chuckled. “No need to break the couch, bub.”

Atlas giggled as he perched himself on the top of the couch, still caught up in his make-believe world. He turned to Harry, his eyes bright with excitement. “Daddy?” He paused, watching his father’s gaze resettle upon him. “y’think spideys stronger than you?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, smirking as he leaned back against the couch again. “Stronger than me, huh? That’s a tough one. I mean, I’ve got some pretty strong muscles too, you know.” He tried to persuade his son, flexing his bicep in front of him.

Atlas tilted his head, considering this for a moment before a mischievous grin spread across his face. “M’no cause he can do this!” He flung his wrist out, making a thwip! noise as he pretended to shoot webs across the room.

Harry’s grin widened as he watched his son in full superhero mode. “Alright, alright, you’ve got me there. I don’t have webs.”

“Duh!” The boy exclaimed again, leaping off the couch and landing with a soft thud on the carpet. He scrambled back up and raced over to Harry, his little hands grabbing at his dad’s arms as he looked up at him with pure adoration. “But y’cool too, dad.”

Harry laughed, his heart swelling at the sight of his son’s wide grin. “Oh, just cool am I? Not the coolest?”

Atlas giggled, shaking his head, jumping in place with his palms against his dad’s knees. “Nope, he–he still more better.”

YN had been listening from the kitchen as she prepared dinner, the scent of garlic and herbs filling the air. She leaned against the counter, smiling to herself as she heard the playful back-and-forth between her husband and their son. Harry always had such a way of connecting with Atlas—whether it was through silly games, bedtime stories, or, in this case, debates over superheroes.

She wiped her hands on a dish towel and wandered into the living room, catching sight of Atlas now climbing into Harry’s lap. “What’s all this about Spider-Man?” she asked, crossing her arms with a mock-stern expression.

The curly haired boy whipped his head around, his face lighting up when he saw his mom. “Mama! We watched’ed pider-man!”

YN raised her eyebrows, glancing at Harry, who shrugged with an amused smile. “I see,” she said, nodding seriously. “And where does daddy rank on the superhero scale?”

Without missing a beat, Atlas giggled and pointed at Harry. “M’he not a superhero—he’s just daddy!”

Harry feigned offense, gasping dramatically as he clutched his chest. “Just dad? C’mon, mate, I’m way cooler than that.”

Atlas giggled even harder, clearly enjoying the game. “Y’climb on buildings?”

Harry chuckled, wrapping his arms around Atlas and pulling him into a gentle bear hug. “Okay, I can’t climb buildings, but I bet Spider-Man can’t make pancakes as good as me.”

The boy paused, clearly torn by this new piece of information. He loved his dad’s pancakes, after all. But after a moment, he shook his head, his resolve firm. “Pider-man don’t eat pancakes.”

YN laughed as she sat down on the couch beside them, placing her hand on Harry’s knee. “He’s got you there, babe. You might have to accept second place.”

He sighed in mock defeat, his dimples deepening as he looked down at his boy, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Alright, fine. he can be the coolest for now. But when you get hungry in the morning, don’t come crying to me for pancakes.”

“He make them for me!” Atlas shot back with a laugh, clearly enjoying teasing his dad.

He laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of Atlas’s curly head. “You think Parker knows how to make chocolate chip pancakes like I do? I doubt it.”

YN watched them with a soft smile, her heart swelling with affection. She loved these moments—the way Harry could be completely goofy and playful with their son, never taking himself too seriously, and the way Atlas adored his dad with a fierceness that made her heart melt. It was a kind of magic, watching the two of them together.

She ran a finger through Harry’s curls, pressing a kiss into the locks as she breathed him in. “I’m plating dinner.” She mumbled as she ambled back into the kitchen.

Harry grunted as he stood up, pulling his son up in his arms along with him. “To the table, web-slinger.” He told Atlas, swinging him in his arms with small little swooshing sounds.

Their boy giggled as Harry swooped him through the air like an airplane, his little arms stretched out as if he were flying. They made their way to the kitchen, where YN was setting plates of steaming food on the table.

"Hungry?” YN teased as Harry plopped Atlas into his booster seat.

He nodded enthusiastically. "I want 'tatoes!"

Harry chuckled, grabbing a spoon to serve Atlas a helping of mashed potatoes. "Here you go, bubba. But no webs at the dinner table, okay?"

He giggled, pretending to shoot webs one more time before focusing on his plate. Harry and YN exchanged a fond smile, and for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sounds of dinner-plates clinking, forks scraping, and the occasional happy hum from Atlas as he devoured his meal.

After dinner, they settled into their nighttime routine-baths, pajamas, and a bedtime story.

Atlas, freshly bathed and smelling of lavender, jumped snuggled into his bed. It was navy blue with cartoonish planets littered about, but his favorite thing would have to be his rainbow zebra-print 1D blanket tucked around him. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, the familiar worn copy of Goodnight Moon in his hands.

"Goodnight room, goodnight moon," He read softly, his voice soothing. Atlas's eyelids grew heavy as he clutched his favorite stuffed animal, a plush giraffe.

YN stood in the doorway, watching her two boys with a soft smile. She loved these quiet moments, the way Harry's voice softened as he read to Atlas, the way their son's small body relaxed into sleep. "Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere."

As he closed the book, he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Atlas's forehead. "Goodnight, spidey."

Atlas's lips curled into a sleepy smile, his voice a soft mumble as he drifted off. "G’night, daddy."

With that, Harry quietly stood and tiptoed out of the room, YN slipping her hand into his as they left their little guy to dream of webs and skyscrapers.

The door closed behind them with a soft click before he scooped his wife over his shoulder quietly, trudging toward their bedroom and throwing her onto the bed through her soft protests.

YN laughed as she landed on the bed, playfully swatting at Harry as he crawled over her. "You're ridiculous," she whispered, though her smile said she didn't mind one bit.

Her husband grinned, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of their bedroom. "Well, if I'm not the coolest in the house, l've got to show off my other skills, don't I?"

She rolled her eyes, pulling him down for a kiss. "You're still my favorite," she murmured against his lips.

He smiled into the kiss, his hands resting on her hips as he whispered back, "Good, because I'm not giving up that spot anytime soon."

The house grew quiet, the hum of the evening settling in around them as they lay together.

Outside, the stars were beginning to twinkle in the night sky, and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze was the only sound breaking the silence. Harry reached over to switch off the bedside lamp, wrapping his arms around YN as they snuggled into each other.

It was in those days that Harry realized—he didn't need to be the coolest superhero. Being Atlas's dad, YN's husband, and the maker of the best chocolate chip pancakes in the world was more than enough. It was everything.

#harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles concept #harry styles au #dadrry #harry styles dad

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

bombshell!reader getting caught sleeping over at spencer's before making their established relationship public & the team still thinks spencer is uncomfortable with r's approaches. 🤭

Spencer bought you pyjamas. You're sick with secret pleasure at the fact, staring at yourself in every passing window and reflective surface. They're simple skinny knitted sweatpants and a matching hoodie, and it's not necessarily something you'd buy for yourself, but why would you ever complain? Spencer got you new clothes as a gift with no occasion or motive; you'd marry him now if you thought he'd say yes.

Too bad he's still sleeping.

You turn away from his kitchen window back to your cooking, an oiled frying pan sizzling hot on the stove, eggs browning at the edges as Spencer likes. Two twin mugs of hot coffee steam on the counter next to two plates of crispy bacon and toasted english muffins, deconstructed breakfast sandwiches. You're ninety percent sure he likes breakfast sandwiches.

It's odd knowing enough about Spencer to fancy yourself in love with him, but being in a relationship that's so new that there are a thousand gaps. You know how he likes his eggs but not his bacon. Does he like melted cheese? Does he drink orange juice this early?

You'll have to ask him. If he's brave enough to ask you to stay the night, you can ask him about breakfast.

It's getting way too hot in the kitchen. The opened window isn't cutting it. You hook your elbow into the hem of your hoodie and pull it over your head before folding them to set neatly aside. You feel cooler in your vest, if a little exposed. Good thing it's just you and Spence—

A knock rattles the door. "Reid, you home?"

Well, I brought that on myself, you think with a laugh. You take the eggs off of the heat and wipe your oily fingers clean on a dish towel as you meander to the door. It's too early for running.

"Hello, Derek," you say, opening the door with a put upon casualness. He blinks at you. He's wearing gym clothes, a sleeveless t-shirt and tight sweatpants. You wolf whistle before he can say hello himself. "Looking good. Early run?"

"You're kidding," he says.

"Am I ever? You look great! Did you want to come in– woah!"

Deft-fingered hands pull you out of the doorway and firmly behind it. Spencer steps into your place, closing the door to a slit. "Hi, Morgan."

"Reid. You're both kidding."

"I don't know what you mean." Spencer rakes a hand through his sleep mussed hair. You try to ignore how much you enjoyed him moving you around.

"Reid, I just saw her!" Morgan laughs more happily than incredulously. You can't see him but you can picture his smile and his slightly slouched posture, his arms crossed over his chest. "Since when do you guys bunk up? You're a jerk, you know that? I'm always telling her to stop bothering you, but now I'm thinking you like being bothered."

"I never asked you to do that," Spencer says weakly.

You nudge Spencer aside gently, popping your head back into Morgan's view. "My AC broke, my apartment's a hot hell. Reid let me come over."

"Oh yeah?" Morgan asks, rolling his eyes. "That why he tried to hide you? What's so secret about broken AC?"

"He's a genius, he's not perfect. I'm sure he was just trying to protect my decency. I'm not dressed for company." You put a more than friendly hand on Spencer's back, the dip of it like a tempting line under his thin sleep shirt. You want more than anything to dig under his shirt and feel along the curve of it. You'd pictured it this morning, eating eggs and drinking coffee under his arm, your fingertips tracing the short wall of stretch marks he has just above his coccyx.

Spencer rolls with your lie as well as he's able to, which, having been caught off guard, is not very well at all. "Right. She's not wearing a bra."

You snort. Morgan laughs and almost turns around to walk away.

"Did you want breakfast?" Spencer asks weakly. He sounds resigned to his fate. Skewed, he uses the hand furthest away from you to reach behind his back and squeeze your hand in a swift apology.

"I'll pass, man." Morgan pulls his cap down a touch. "Sounds like you're having breakfast fit for two."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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mariasont · 7 months ago

Text

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear.

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen.

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly.

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest.

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped.

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily.

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand.

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip.

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down.

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all.

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny.

You went back to your phone.

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud.

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter. It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip.

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood.

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side.

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #criminal minds smut #hotch smut #hotchner #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #Spotify

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stayevildarling · 4 months ago

Note

I adore your writing!! If you take requests, could I request the following for female reader x Wanda x Natasha. Where Natasha and Wanda have been in love with reader for the longest time and absolutely but secretly hate the fact she is in a relationship with someone. Unbeknownst to them, the relationship is toxic and reader suffers but doesn't say anything until maybe one day on a mission they find out? I adore your mental health fics. maybe bit of everything? angst/fluff/smut???? tysm

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x Reader- Good Luck, Babe

A/N: First of all I want to thank you dear anon for this request. I'm a sucker for fics like this. Secondly, I apologise for other projects on hold like ,,Fragments of us'' Part two. Right now, I don't have a lot of motivation or time to write but this intrigued me. Title inspired by the song ,,Good Luck, Babe!'' by Chappell Roan.

tw/tags: female reader, established relationship Wanda + Natasha, mention of abusive partner, mention of physical abuse, mention of verbal + emotional abuse, mention of bruises/cuts, mention of violence, cursing, mention of poly relationship, angry wandanat, slight nsfw mentions

word count: 10k (I apologize for my previous post regarding this, my draft messed up and I ended up counting the fic twice)

translation: detka= baby, malishka= baby girl

taglist: (if you want to be added comment/sent an ask or dm)

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime, @p1pecleanerwitheyes

The Avengers compound had been unusually quiet this morning, the rain tapping gently against the large windows, creating a soothing rhythm that contrasts with the usual hustle. Outside said large windows, the world is wrapped in a soft haze, the greenery of the compound blurred by the pouring rain. The air inside feels cooler this morning, causing Natasha to shiver slightly, before the scent mixes with the faint aroma of coffee.

In the meantime, Wanda stands by the stove in the kitchen, her movements flowing freely as she prepares breakfast. The soft clinking of utensils, one of the few sounds breaking the silence. Usually, mornings after Tony's birthday parties would be filled with the sounds of laughter, groans from those suffering from hangovers and the general buzzing from the team slowly coming back to life. However, today it was different. Natasha sits at the kitchen island, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands.

Her green eyes fixed on the rain outside, lost in her thoughts. Her posture is tense, shoulders slightly hunched and her usual confident demeanour seemingly distant. Even her hair, still damp from the shower she had, falls in loose waves around her face. Wanda, ever the observant girlfriend, notices of course. Having noticed, as soon as she found Natasha this morning, sitting absentmindedly on the sofa of their shared apartment within the compound, before she headed for a shower, barely any words exchanged yet.

Usually, the two of them had a different routine on mornings like this with no mission to prepare for. Natasha would shower first and then Wanda would join her in the kitchen, where Natasha would tease her about her cooking and baking, despite loving it deeply. But today, there was no teasing, no light conversation, no glances filled with love, no warm arms wrapping around the redheads. Just silence and the occassional sounds of rain and clattering from Wanda's cooking.

As the Scarlet Witch flips a pancake, she glances over at Natasha again, her concern deepening with each moment passing. The redhead's face is a careful mask, but Wanda could sense the tension beneath it, her magic not needed as her love for the Black Widow was enough as she had been with her for years and knew her better than anyone. Natasha's fingers tap rhythmically on the side of her mug of coffee, a rare sign of agitation.

Setting down the spatula, Wanda moves closer as her elbows rest on the kitchen counter, her eyes observing Natasha a little closer. ,,Are you okay darling?'' she asks softly, her voice cutting through the silence.

In response she blinks, as if coming out of a daze, looking at her girlfriend. For a moment she seems conflicted, ready to flash one of her practiced smiles and assure her girlfriend that she is absolutely fine and just thinking about a mission or what to do at the gym later. But then she sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. ,,I don't know'' she admits, her voice unusually soft and small. She looks back at the window, the grey reflecting in her eyes. ,,Just thinking'' she acknowledges, her walls right where they usually would be, before Wanda would break through them gently.

,,Are you thinking about last night by chance?'' Wanda whispers, reaching out to place her hand on Natasha's arm in a comforting manner. The redheads head snaps towards her partner, both feeling caught and at the same time wondering how Wanda would have known. ,,How-?'' she snaps a little, worried that maybe the witch had used her powers on her girlfriend as reading minds certainly was one of them. If she was thinking straight, the avenger would know that Wanda would never do that, respecting Natasha's privacy always and rather giving her time and space rather than using her magic to force any truths out of her partner.

,,Detka, I know you'' she assures, her eyes searching her girlfriends. Natasha sighs, feeling bad for even thinking that Wanda would have invaded her thoughts like that and at the same time sighing, knowing she would have some explaining to do. ,,This is about Y/N, isn't it love?'' Wanda asks softly, using her magic to turn off the stove as the pancakes were done at this point and wanting to stay close to her girlfriend in order to comfort whatever was troubling her mind. Natasha sighs, as Wanda as usually had figured out exactly what was troubling her and indeed it had been you.

The relationship between the two of them and you had always been a little strange. Natasha and Yelena rescuing you and your memories years ago from the red room and the people having done the same horrible things to you than the Russian and her sister. They took you in, introducing you to the avengers as you really had no home, no family, yet your skills had been impressive. And quickly, the avengers had become your home, giving you shelter at the compound to get back on your feet, Yelena quickly becoming one of your best friends and Natasha equally close to you, wanting to save the last bit of your soul as she had instantly felt something, as soon as laying eyes upon you for the first time, you had been different and she could tell, even back then.

At the time, both Natasha and Wanda had more of a fling, hands always lingering somewhere on each other, glances shared in meetings, secret meetings and hook ups at night as they couldn't quite keep their hands away from each other. Both of them took you under their wing, helping you train some younger recruits in order to give you something to do, support you emotionally, making sure you could thrive again after suffering abuse and torture for several years. And you blossomed in a way that Tony and the others quickly realised you could be an asset to them, offering to send you on your first mission. And at that time both Wanda and Natasha had grown so close to you that they objected, not liking the thought of you in danger again and worrying about your health and mental state and how the mission may affect you.

In the end they insisted on accompanying you and watched in awe as you succeeded with your first mission, thriving with each day along the avengers. The three of you quickly become the golden trio, always seen together, either in the gym with Natasha, working out while blasting some music, the redhead teasing you for your right hook. Often seen with Wanda as she showed you some of her magic as it had you in awe. The three of you grew closer than the two of them ever had been before and over months their feelings for you grew. Natasha and Wanda pretty much realised at the same time, confiding in each other as they didn't want to ruin what they already had. When the same words spilled from their lips they couldn't help but laugh but the laughter quickly subsided as one of the recruits who you had been training often, seemed to have captured your heart.

They didn't notice the lingering glances, the gestures from her as she showered you in flowers, affection and gifts. As they had been too caught in their own feelings and how they could ever propose this idea to you, despite feeling pretty sure that you felt the same way, having seen your blushing whenever around them and the way you squirmed whenever their hands lingered on you somewhere or the pet names they had reserved for you specifically, flowed so freely from their mouths. It hit them hard when they found about you and Lucy, each of them handling the news in their own ways. Natasha made sure to background check her properly, using all of her spy skills, even searching her room one day, wanting to make sure she would treat you right. Wanda accepted it, your happiness her main priority and wanting to comfort Natasha in the process.

In the end that's how the two of them finally grew closer and closed the last gaps of privacy, making their fling more official and confessing their feelings. Ever since then, they had been the power couple of the Avengers. The two mothers as the others would often call them as they made sure to look after the others, often providing them with food after missions or advice and always a listening ear or Wanda's magic nearby whenever anyone needed it. But despite the months passing, slowly even a year of your relationship with Lucy approaching, they still hadn't forgotten about you and their feelings certainly never subsided. They respected your relationship of course and the fact you couldn't spent as much time as before but they always made sure to fit some conversation or at least one pizza or move night into a week, wanting to make sure you are well taken care of and they could still have you around.

,,Yeah'' Natasha admits, stopping her daydreaming about you, before she reminisces about the previous night and how Lucy had been all over you, dragging you onto the dance floor when you clearly looked tired after the previous mission. How you often wanted to come over and chat with them but she dragged you into another corner, crashing her lips onto you, making Natasha almost rage in jealousy and wanting nothing more than to pry you away from her. Natasha had been worried, whether this relationship was truly making you happy as you had never mentioned Lucy to them before and how they found out through Thor and some of the other guys chatting back then. How they often found you alone when Lucy was out with some of the other recruits from her missions and team, leaving you alone as they went clubbing and drinking, Natasha inspecting Lucy's social media closely. How she never seemed to post photos of you, never showing you off the way she certainly would. How she hadn't showered you in gifts for ages, something Natasha would certainly also do as you deserved flowers every single day if it was up to the Russian.

,,Don't you think it's time to let that go darling?'' Wanda asks softly, knowing her lover had struggled for almost a year with her feelings and the jealousy so evident on the Black Widows features whenever the two of you are around. Of course the Scarlet witch hated it equally, ultimately agreeing that her and Natasha could certainly treat you better but you seem happy and your happiness is all that matters to the redhead. ,,I know I should but-'' the redhead hesitates then, not knowing how to finish that sentence as her feelings both confused and overwhelmed her at the same time. ,,I just have this feeling that she's not happy that.. we could have-'' she begins but Wanda cuts her off, finishing her sentence. ,,Could have treated her better?''. Natasha nods, sighing again as her shoulders slump further, Wanda smiling sadly at her partner and hating how much this was hurting her.

,,Am I not enough for you?'' Wanda suddenly questions, completely catching Natasha off guard as she sits up straight, her face almost crumbling at the question. ,,Darling'' she sighs, feeling bad instantly before noticing the slight smirk on her partners face. ,,You're perfect detka'' she reassures, kissing the tip of her nose. ,,How about you show me just how enough I am for you'' Wanda teases, knowing she couldn't fix this and some distracting was in order. ,,Certainly but pancakes after?'' Natasha smiles before lifting up her partner, Wanda's legs wrapping around her as she carries her to the bedroom, the witch giggling on her way over as Natasha plants kisses along her neck. Wanda nods through her hitched breathing.

----

Today had been another slow day, the rain had woken you a while ago, as well as a pounding headache, causing you to groan as soon as you tried to open your eyes but failed due to the pounding pain. Somehow, you managed to stumble your way into the kitchen of your shared room with Lucy, reaching for some water and painkillers before sitting in silence for what seemed like hours until the headache was bearable enough to move again. Last night seemed a blur, the only memory left the fact it was Tony's birthday and at some point remembering his speech but then everything blurred. As you glance at your phone, you realise the upcoming meeting for the mission tomorrow in the afternoon and you knew you should get some exercise in at some point as you skipped yesterday due to the party and helping Pepper with the preparations.

After throwing on some leggings and an oversized hoodie, you grab some Gatorade from the fridge and make your way over to the gym, sincerly hoping that no one would be in there as you certainly didn't feel like conversation today. You didn't feel right today, besides from the headache and you really couldn't tell what was wrong, feeling both dizzy and fatigued and as if someone had repeatedly beat you with Thor's hammer. You sigh in relief finding the gym empty, putting on your headphones and blasting some music before starting on some cardio, knowing the upcoming mission would probably include some running, wanting to do some weights afterwards before showering and getting ready for the meeting in the afternoon. The rain continues pattering as your thoughts are blended out by the sound of music and focusing on your training, wanting to be fit and ready for tomorrow.

In your daze you never realised Wanda and Natasha entering about an hour later, watching you with amused smirks, as they watch you from behind lifting some weights, not having seen your features but recognising that oversized hoodie from anywhere as Natasha had given it to you after you came home with them, barely any clothes with you and how you had kept it since. They had tried to greet you but the music from your headphones had been so loud that they could hear it from the other side of the room and Wanda took a mental note of the songs, how they were so slow and sad, unlike the usual things you would listen to, wanting to adress that at some point. It's not until you take your headphones off, having finished your workout for today, grabbing the bottle and almost chugging it, suddenly feeling the same fatigue and dizziness again, when you notice their presence.

,,Hi detka'' Natasha and Wanda greet you with bright smiles and you breathe a second before turning around with a smile. Instantly their smiles drop slightly as they notice how pale you are. ,,Are you alright, sweetheart?'' Wanda asks concerned, walking over to get a better look at you. ,,Fine, just tired Wands'' you reassure but that certainly wasn't enough for the redhead witch, as she approaches you, cupping your cheeks and checking for any sign of a temperature. ,,Wanda I just worked out, I'm fine'' you reassure and Natasha can't help but giggle at your antics. ,,Stubborn just like me'' she huffs before grabbing some weights and beginning her own workout. ,,How have you been darling? we haven't seen you much lately'' Wanda asks as her eyes search yours. She instantly notices the hesitation before you speak and the concern is evident in her orbs. ,,I've been good, just busy with missions you know'' you assure and she nods, knowing you had been sent on plenty of them lately.

,,If you ever need us to tell Tony to back off a little, you know where to find us'' Natasha offers with a wink but you know she means every word as they always took care of your needs. For a moment your brave smile fades as your reality catches up with you and you have to fight the tears away, and they notice of course but before either of them can speak, the three of you are interrupted as a presence stops by the door. ,,Y/N, you coming?'' Lucy asks and you smile before reaching for your things ,,Of course'' you nod, smiling at both Wanda and Natasha before following your girlfriend. ,,Bye guys'' you part them with almost a sad smile as Lucy reaches for your hand, dragging you away from them. The two of them remain quiet, Natasha drowning her raging jealousy in her workout and Wanda lost deeply in her thoughts as today she had for the first time seen what Natasha had mentioned, the sadness in your eyes, the feeling that something wasn't quite right, despite her not being able to point it out exactly.

As the elevator doors close, Lucy's grip tightens on your hand. "I told you I don't like them," she hisses. You roll your eyes inwardly, too tired to argue. The familiar ache in your head and the exhaustion in your bones keep you silent, dreading the confrontation that awaited in your room.

Your relationship with Lucy had started beautifully. She'd been sweet and caring, helping you through nightmares, showering you with affection, and making you forget the Red Room's horrors. But then things changed—her patience waned, arguments became frequent, and eventually, she became physical with you. You blamed her stress, even yourself, for provoking her.

Now, you just endured it. You had become an expert at hiding the bruises, adjusting your uniform to conceal them. The shame of being an Avenger, unable to stand up to your girlfriend, weighed heavily on you. You longed for someone who treated you kindly, like Wanda and Natasha. But you believed you had missed your chance with them, seeing them so happy together. Lucy had convinced you that no one else would want you, and you believed it, accepting your fate.

And you had been exceptional at hiding your true feelings, the lonely nights when Lucy went out partying, the nights after arguments, covering your body in order for no one to see. And so you carried on each day, your head held high as if nothing happened, carrying on with your duties and your life, accepting your ultimate fate as you had a play in it surely.

At the meeting that afternoon, you entered the briefing room feeling every bruise and ache Lucy had left on you. Last night had been particularly rough, and her anger had found its usual target you. Despite your best efforts to hide the signs, you felt utterly drained, the weight of everything pressing down on you. Your goal was simple to get through the meeting without drawing attention.

As you take a seat, you immediately notice both Wanda and Natasha watching you from across the room. You tried to muster a convincing smile but somehow the exhaustion must show. Natasha's eyes narrow slightly, Wanda's brow furrowed in concern. They exchange a glance, clearly picking up that something was off and bothering you. Throughout the meeting, you could feel their eyes on you while Tony was going on about mission details but somehow you struggled to focus. ,,You're nothing, worthless'' the words of Lucy replay in your mind. You nod along, taking notes almost mechanically, just trying to keep up your apperance. It's when Tony asks for your input on a tactical point, there is a pause as you realize you really hadn't been listenting the way you should have.

,,Y/N?'' Tony prompts and thats when you snap back to the present, stammering a response that you hope was good enough to answer his question. Wanda's eyes are practically boring into you, her concern deepening by the minute as she senses your unease. After the meeting finishes, you hurry and gather your things, hoping to slip away before anyone could corner you. But Natasha was quicker of course, intercepting you at the door.

,,Hey, you alright?'' she asks, her voice casual but her eyes serious. All you can do is nod, forcing a smile. ,,Yeah, just tired'' you say, hating how weak your voice sounds right now. Natasha doesn't seem convinced, but she doesn't press the subject further, just nodding slowly.

Wanda, however had always been more direct. As you step into the hallway, she catches up with you, her expression filled with concern. ,,Can we talk?'' she asks, her tone gentle but insistent. You sigh, feeling cornered but too exhausted to resist. ,,Sure'' you mutter, following them both to a quieter area. Natasha joins, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

,,Y/N darling'' she begins, the sound of her voice causing your heart to swell. ,,You don't seem like yourself. What's going on?'' she asks softly. You hesitate, your instinct to hide the truth clashing with the need of finally letting someone in. Natasha's gaze is boring right into you, making it clear they are serious about this and not about to let this slide.

,,It's nothing, I'm just tired and.. had a long night'' you admit weakly, avoiding their eyes. Wanda's hand reaches out, gently touching your arm. It takes every last bit of you not to flinch, not having felt their gentle hands in so long and the gesture almost causing you to cry as you had longed for gentle hands rather than rough ones.

,,We are worried about you'' she says. ,,You can talk to us, We have noticed you have been different lately detka'' the witch tries again, feeling bad for pushing you but deeply concerned about you as your bright smile had vanished lately.

Natasha nods, her voice low and serious ,,We care about you Y/N, you don't have to do this alone, whatever it is''. Your facade and walls crack a little at their genuine concern. You feel a lump forming in your throat, the urge to break down overwhelming. You look at them, tears threatening to spill. You know you needed to give them something but then again you knew it couldn't be the truth.

,,It's.. complicated'' you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. Wanda squeezes your arm reassuringly. ,,Please know that we are here for you, always'' she encourages, knowing they had pushed enough know and at least wanting you to know that much.

Their words feel like some weight finally lifted off your shoulders, despite the chain of Lucy holding you down. You wanted to tell them everything but the fear keeps you silent. Yet, the warmth and concern in their eyes gives you a glimmer of hope and warmth. As the conversations lingers in the quiet corner, Wanda and Natasha exchange a knowing glance.

Natasha is the first to break the silence ,,What are you doing tonight?'' she asks, her voice casual but her eyes intent on you. You hesitate, unsure how to respond. ,,Nothing much.. I guess just rest'' you say, knowing that Lucy had plans with the others to go out drinking again. You had planned for a quiet night, mentally and physically preparing for the mission tomorrow. But you dreaded the nights alone, dreading the emptiness of the room you shared with her. Dreading her return and the comments she would make as soon as she would sway into the room.

Wanda smiles softly, an idea clealry forming between them. ,,How about a movie night? Just like the old days'' she suggests, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. ,,We could use some downtime and I think you could too'' Natasha adds, her eyes sparkling with excitement. You blink a few times, suprised by the offer. It had infact been long since the three of you had spent time together like that. The thought of a quiet evening with them, away from everything, seems incredibly exciting. You find yourself nodding before you even fully process it or the potential consquenzes of your agreeing.

,,That sounds nice'' you admit, feeling a little shy as a small but genuine smile creeps onto your face. Natasha grins, looking relieved. ,,Great, we'll pick up some snacks and meet in the common room around seven?'' she asks and you nod. Wanda smiles before leaning in closer ,,Now get some rest detka'' and you smile a little before parting ways with them.

The warmth of their invitaton eases some of the tension in your chest and on your tired shoulders. It feels like a small escape, a chance to reconnect with them and perhaps even feel like yourself again. Whenever you had spent time with them in the past, they made you feel seen, valid for your experiences in life and the way of your thinking. As you step back into your room, finding it empty, everything fades in the background a little, the anxiety and anticipation about tonight.

The exhaustion weighs heavily on you, both physically and mentally and before you can think about tonight any further, your eyes begin feeling heavy, sleep quickly catching up with your tired bones. When you wake next, the room is dimly lit by the late afternoon sun, the rain having subsided, casting soft shadows. You glance at the clock, realizing it's almost time for the movie night. Stretching, you feel a little more rested, though the dull ache still remains. You notice Lucy's absence for a moment and feel a pang of relief and guilt. She must have already left to meet the others for their night out. The silence of the room feels foreign but peaceful. You take a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't find out about tonight as she most certainly would be furious as soon as she found out.

After a quick shower to freshen up, you dress in comfortable lounge clouthes, trying to shake off the remaining sleep from your nap. You take a moment to look into the mirror, noticing the tiredness in your eyes but also a small flicker of something else, maybe hope or at least the anticipation of a night without stress. As you make your way to the common room, you find the atmosphere cozy and inviting. The lights are dimmed, a stack of movies awaiting your selection on the table. Natasha is sprawled out on one of the couches, flipping through the snack options, while Wanda arranges blankets and pillows, making everything comfortable for the three of you.

,,Hey! perfect timing'' Natasha greets you with a grin, motioning you to join them. ,,We've got snacks, drinks and a whole lot of movies, pick your poision'' she smirks and you can't help but blush a little, feeling right at home with them and as if no time had passed since last spending time with them.

,,Yeah we've got everything malishka, from cheesy rom-coms to action, whatever you're in the mood for''. Wanda smiles warmly at you as you join them both, positioning yourself in the middle as they had left a gap there for you.

You feel a genuine smile stretch across your face as you settle into the plush couch. It feels good to be around them, like slipping into an old beloved sweater. The tension of the day begins to melt away, replaced by the comforting presence of both women.

,,How about we start with this one'' you suggest, reaching for a bowl of popcorn. Wanda and Natasha nod in agreement and the three of you quickly fall into easy conversation, laughing and chatting as the first movie starts. For the first time in what feels like forever, you begin to relax, feeling the warmth and safety of their company wrap aorund you like a protective blanket. For the first time you didn't need to tense, worry about an argument coming, saying the wrong thing or upsetting someone. Simply being able to be yourself and be free from the usual anxiety sourrounding you.

The hours seem to fly by as the sunset quickly turns into darkness of the night, the only light source both the TV and some lights and candles in the corner of the room. The three of you laugh until your sides hurt at the ridicilounsess of one of Wanda's favorite rom-coms, finding joy in the over the top scenarios and cheese lines. It feels good to laugh freely with them. As the night wears on, the movie choices shift to horror. The mood in the room changes with the flickering shadows on the screen and you find yourself jumping at sudden scares. Natasha's teasing doesn't stop as she finds you and Wanda basically jumping into each other's arms. ,,Badass Avenger and the Scarlet Witch hm?'' she smirks, causing you both to side eye her.

Eventually, the adrenaline fades, replaced by a warm, sleepy comfort. The room is filled with the glow of the television and the quiet hum of its background noises. You find yourself leaning into Natasha, her shoulder a steady and comforting presence. The exhaustion of the day, combined with your own rollercoaster of emotions, finally catches up with you. Your eyelids growing heavy and before you know it, you drift off, lulled to sleep by the warmth and safety of the moment.

Natasha had equally drifted off a little, smiling as she noticed you asleep on her shoulder and Wanda simply stares in adoration, having missed your presence with them both for the longest time. She lets herself relax, closing her eyes for a moment to enjoy the peace.

The peace is interrupted however, as soon as Lucy returns to your room from her night out. Both tipsy and irritated she finds your absence, sending a spike of anger through her alcohol fuzed daze. She clenches her jaw, before slamming the door behind her ,,JARVIS, where is Y/N?'' she screams. JARVIS responds in his usual calm tone ,,Miss Y/N is currently in the common room with Miss Romanoff and Miss Maximoff''.

Her anger reaches new levels as she stomps towards the common room, her footsteps echoing through the quiet halls. She's fuming, a mix of jealousy and drunken anger washing over her. As she reaches the door, she pushes it open with a loud bang, startling both you and Natasha awake. You blink, groggy and disorientated for a momnent, struggling to understand what is happening. The peaceful atmosphere shatters as Lucy stands there, her face filled with anger and confusion.

,,What the hell is going on here?'' she slurs, her voice thick with the alcohol she had consumed. Her eyes are wild, darting between the three of you. You feel a cold knot of dread forming in your stomach, feeling terribly guilty for not having told her as you knew from the start she wouldn't have approved this.

Natasha's arm, still around you from before, tenses and Wanda quickly stands, stepping slightly forward, her expression calm but her eyes alert. ,,Lucy'' you say, your voice thick with sleep and confusion. ,,What are you doing here?'' you try to keep your voice steady but the sight of her sends more waves of anxiety crashing over you.

Your girlfriend ignores your question, her gaze fixed on both women in the room with you, her lips curling in disapproval. ,,So this is what you're doing? Cozying up with them while I'm out?'' she spits, her words slurring. The accusation is clear and you feel embarassed as in all honesty she was right with every word.

,,We were just watching movies Lucy'' Natasha says, her voice steady and controlled. She stays seated but her posture is alert, ready to react if needed. ,,Nothing more''.

Wanda still stands beside the couch, looking at you with concern, then back at Lucy. ,,Y/N needed some time to relax. We invited her for a movie night'' the witch explains gently, trying to calm the tension in the room.

Lucy's eyes narrow, her jealousy reaching it's peaking point. ,,Oh is that it?'' she chuckles sarcastically. ,,Just a friendly little get together? Looked like more than that to me'' She takes a shaky step forward, her voice rising. ,,You think I don't see how they look at you? How you look at them?'

Your heart pounds at her words but you stand up, instinctively placing yourself between Lucy and the other two. ,,Lucy it's not like that. We were just hanging out like we used to'' you try to reason with her, wanting to simply be swallowed into the ground, feeling embarassed they both had to witness this.

Natasha stands up too, moving beside you, her presence protective. ,,Lucy calm down, you're drunk'' she says, her tone firm. ,,We don't want this to turn into a scene''.

Your girlfriend laughs bitterly, her eyes flashing with anger. ,,A scene? you think this is a scene? You don't even know what a scene is'' she points a finger at you, her voice harsh. ,,You're mine Y/N, I don't care what kind of night you had or hoped you had, you don't just ignore me and run off with them''.

,,You know what? You need to back off. Y/N has done nothing wrong'' Wanda suddenly speaks up, growing impatient with Lucy's behaviour.

,,Come on we are leaving'' she warns, ignoring Wanda's words as she tries pulling your arm. You feel a sting at her words, the weight of everything she implies. The usual shame and guilt washes over you and as you glance at the two of them, their worried and protective gazes, only cause you to feel worse. The pull of the situation is stronger than any urge to stay with them, fearing what would happen if you didn't comply with Lucy's request. As you stand there, the feeling of tension crackling in the air, Natasha suddenly reaches out and gently touches your arm, her voice soft but firm.

,,Y/N you don't have to go with her'' she offers, her green eyes locking onto yours with a seriousness that catches you off guard. For a moment you hesitate, the warmth and sincerity of their words a contrast to the cold anger coming from Lucy. The idea of staying and not having to face this night was tempting but again Lucy's grip on you was tighter than anything you had felt before.

As her glare intensifies, her hands clenched at her sides, the familiar fear and guilt builds up, overwhelming you for a moment. You swallow hard, looking down, uanble to meet the Black Widow's eyes any longer. ,,I should go'' you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the decision crushes you and you feel the string of tears threatening to spill over. Without another word, you nod, swallowing back the tears turning towards Lucy and following her out of the room. Natasha steps forward as if wanting to follow you but Wanda holds her back, knowing you had made your choice for tonight.

As you enter your shared room, you immediately head to bed, the tears flowing freely as Lucy barely looks at you, storming around, still mutterting angrily. Tonight you realize the reality of what you are stuck in, a reality you can‘t seem to escape from. Both Wanda and Natasha had been so kind, too kind perhaps. Maybe Lucy was right, maybe you didn‘t deserve anything, didn‘t deserve kindness and maybe you shouldn‘t have accepted their invitation, as you deep down knew this was coming.

You lay down, sobbing silently into your pillow, feeling the stinging in your heart. As Lucy eventually quietens and settles down, you feel utterly alone, despite her presence. You close your eyes, wanting nothing more than sleep to come and make you forget.

As you left with Lucy, the silence in the common room feels heavy. Wanda and Natasha stand there quietly, stunned, before the redheads sighs deeply. They clean up in silence, both lost in their thoughts. Once everything was tidy, the tension follows them back to their room. Natasha is the first to break the silence, her voice low and troubled. „I can‘t believe she just went with her“ she sighs, staring up at the ceiling. „Did you see the way Lucy was acting? I‘ve never seen her like that before, it‘s not normal“.

Wanda turns onto her side, facing her girlfriend. „Yeah I saw it“ she replies softly. „Lucy was drunk“ she states before silence follows. „But it was more than that, she was possessive and angry and it didn‘t seem right“. She hesitates, her eyes searching Natasha‘s. „Y/N looked scared Tasha, I have never seen her like that before“ Wanda acknowledges, finally understanding her lovers words from the other day and what Natasha had been implying all along.

Natasha sighs, turning her head to meet Wanda‘s gaze. „I know“ she says, her voice filled with guilt. „I should have done more, should have stopped her“. Wanda reaches out, taking her girlfriends hand into her own. „We did what we could love, besides Y/N was in a tough spot, you saw how Lucy reacted“.

Her girlfriends expression darkens, a protective instinct on her features. „Lucy is hurting her Wanda. Maybe not physically- I hope at least but emotionally. You saw how she flinched when Lucy yelled. That‘s not normal and Y/N doesn‘t deserve that“. Wanda nods in agreement, having seen the same things but not wanting to think too much about that as the thought killed her. Wanda squeezes Natasha‘s hand, nodding. „We‘ll figure it out but we have to be careful. Y/N has to want our help and right now she seems scared“.

Natasha‘s eyes flicker with frustration. „But we can‘t just sit by and do nothing“ she insists. „What if something happens?“. Wanda moves closer, her hand resting comfortingly on Natasha‘s cheek. „Then we step in darling“ she reassures and the redhead finds herself leaning into her girlfriends touch.

----

The next morning arrives much quicker than you anticipated, barely getting any sleep as Lucy's words and the night before had kept you awake most of the night. Tired and fatigued, you somehow got yourself ready for the upcoming mission, getting into your costume and chugging a Gaterode and munching on a protein bar as you make your way to the others. Lucy was still asleep when you left and you had considered waking her but from experiences in the past, she hated to be woken up so you simply accepted it and meet the others by the Quinjet.

Natasha and Wanda quickly greet you, alongside the other Avengers joining you on this mission. You greet them with a small smile, feeling both exhausted and embrassed about what happened the night prior and that they had to witness it. You hoped for a quick succesful mission, wanting nothing more than to get back into bed. You avoid the cockpit, strapping yourself into one of the seats and closing your eyes, missing the other's chatting and catching up with each other as you didn't feel like socizalising. They leave you be, especially the two redheads whos eyes seem to follow your every movement, knowing you probably needed some space after the night before and wanting to allow you to rest some more before arriving as you seemed exhausted.

The Quinjet moves through the sky with light speed, getting you to your destination quick and safely. As soon as you feel a hand on your shoulder, you flinch not expecting the sudden sensation. Wanda smiles warmly at you, ignoring how you reacted to her touch. ,,We're there sweetie'' she coos, frowning a little at seeing you in this state. ,,Are you sure you're up for this detka?'' Natasha asks carefully and you simply nod, rising to your feet and ignoring the dizzy spell as you walk into action with the others.

It was a usual mission, infiltatring a secret enemy hideout stashed with countless illegal and highly dangerous weapons. The mission had been going on for months and Tony finally found their biggest secret base, giving you all the tasks to both disable the weapons and bring in the people responsible. Both Thor and Steve make their way through towards the basement, Natasha, Wanda and you on your way to the labs in order to find the weapons. You dodge security cameras knowlingly, having done this plenty of times before. Natasha is quick to take out the occassional guard lingering somewhere or Wanda simply making them drop to the floor with her magic.

The three of you move in perfect synch, completing each other perfectly and in no time you manage to reach the weapons, hack into their computer database and follow your mission innotiative. After checking back in with the others, you make your way back to the main area, when suddenly you are caught by countless men carrying weapons and making your way back to the others more difficult than necessary. With all of your strength left, you fight them off along with the other two, doging their punches and shots and making them fly into the nearest wall.

It almost all carried out to plan when Thor and Steve alerted you they had what you needed and to get back to the Quinjet, the three of you glancing at each other before getting ready, when another wave of them came. You had been so preoccupied by the pain on your body and the dizziness slowly dragging you down that you slipped a little, stepping in front of Wanda and pushing her out of the way as a bullet came her way. And Wanda being Wanda she of course had it, her magic already glowing in her hands ready to dodge the bullet or simply make it fly back. Instead it graced your shoulder slightly, Natasha quick to make the last of them drop unconscious as they aid to your side.

,,Y/N are you okay?'' Wanda asks, her expression panicked as she sees the cut on your arm and the droplets of blood. ,,Yes it just graced me'' you reassure, signaling them both to get back to the others. They follow close behind you, meeting the others before Natasha takes the wheel, wanting to get back to the compound as quickly as possibly. Wanda sits you down, strapping you into your seat before giving you some water. ,,Wands I'm fine'' you reassure again but your pale expression and the shacking of your hands from holding the water bottle aren't exactly convincing the redhead. Natasha glances towards you both a few times, the concern rippling through her, despite knowing you are safe with her girlfriend.

,,Let me have a look'' she urges, pulling at your uniform but you pull away, knowing you couldn't let her see, not with the state your body was currently in. In the end the redhead accepts it, not budging from the seat beside you and keeping a close eye on you. You stare at the opposite seats which are empty, feeling foolish for your actions, knowing Wanda easily had that bullet and would have been safe. You don't know what washed over you, suddenly feeling the urge to protect them both, despite knowing they are much tougher and stronger than you are.

Almost defeated you make your way back into the compound, not remotely interested in the debriefing with Tony but Steve and Thor noticed, signaling to both redheads they had got it and they can take care of you instead. They follow you into the hallway before stopping you ,,Y/N Y/N wait'' they urge, not wanting to let you leave like this. ,,I said I'm fine'' you suddenly snap, your emotions and the heavy exhaustion betraying you and you simply storm off towards the elevator, leaving them both standing stunned in the hallway, accepting the distance you have put between them and worrying they had fussed too much.

As soon as you step into the elevator moments later, the exhaustion seems to drag you down whole. You barely manage to press a button before your knees give in, causing you to sink to the floor, your back leaning against the wall of the elevator. Wanda and Natasha barely make it back to their room when they suddenly hear JARVIS over the intercoms. ,,Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff'' he begins ,,It seems Miss Y/N is in need off assistance in the north elevator''. Their eyes meet for a bare second before they both jolt towards you.

JARVIS system works as quick as light, opening the elevator door and finding your exhausted frame on the floor. In seconds they both drop to their knees, taking your cheeks into their hands, their hearts beating faster at the sight of you like this. ,,Detka, can you hear me?'' Wanda tries and you nod weakly, concious but barely. ,,Okay let's get you to med bay'' Natasha urges, worried the bullet may have done more damage than you let on and they initially believed. ,,No.. no.. please no med bay'' you practically beg through your last energy and Wanda notices the panic in your voice and face, nodding towards Natasha before smiling reassuringly at you.

,,Okay sweetie, let's get you to our room instead hm?'' she offers and you nod weakly before they get you on your feet, each of them resting an arm on their shoulders and getting you towards their room. Natasha is quick to set you down on their sofa, running to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit as Wanda fetches you a sugary drink, hoping this was simply fatigue due to the mission and how exhausted you had been lately. She holds the bottle for you as you take slow sips, the blood slowly reaching your brain again and causing for the shacking of your hands to stop and the colour slowly fading back into your features.

,,Let's take this off and have a look'' Natasha urges and you knew then it was pointless. They would see now due to your own foolishness and without being able to hide it any longer, the tears flow freely, feeling both embarassed and weak for having them see. ,,Detka, are you in pain?'' Wanda asks concerned, seeing you so sad and flinching at Natasha's gently touches. You simply avoid answering her, closing your eyes and brazing for what is about to happen.

Natasha undoes the zips slowly before pulling your uniform off your shoulders, exposing you in a tank top. They instantly notice the beaten and bruised state of your body and their reaction is utterly different. Wanda shocked, the colour equally draining from her face, unable to yet comprehend what had happened. ,,Y/N?!'' she gasps ,,What happened, was this on a mission?''. You remain quiet, meeting Natasha's gaze who knew exactly where these came from. She remains silent herself, inspecting the wound on your shoulder from earlier, making sure to clean and wrap it up for you. She talks you through every step, when it may sting and when it wouldn't, silently asking for your permission and treating you with the gentlest touch in the world.

,,Wait'' Wanda suddenly mumbles as she realizes the extent of your stiutation and what you had been trapped in for almost a year now. ,,Please tell me this wasn't Lucy, malishka'' she urges but when you remain silent again, knowing you couldn't lie to them any longer her green eyes meet Natasha's, filled with tears. ,,I'm going to kill her'' the Black Widow hisses, abandoning the first aid kit before she gets ready to find Lucy. ,,No.. Natasha please..'' you beg, not wanting her to get caught up in this, not wanting her to fight your battles and do what you should have done a long time ago.

Your hands frantically reach for hers, terrified of her leaving and getting hurt by Lucy or her words. She stays, kneeling down in front of you before taking a glimpse at your tired eyes. ,,It's okay, I'm not leaving'' she reassures. ,,What can we do darling?'' she questions as her hands comfortably and reassuringly rest on your knees. ,,May I- stay with you two for a bit please?'' you ask and your voice sounds so broken due to your fear of them abandoning you that it breaks their heart. Natasha steps away for a moment, needing to get her own emotions at bay before she was going to loose it on your girlfriend. Wanda smiles, placing her hand on your cheek ,,What can I do, detka?'' she asks softly, wiping the tears from your cheeks with her thumbs.

,,How would you feel about a nice soothing bath?'' she offers and the sound of that truly sounds heavenly. You nod weakly, feeling bad you intruded on them like this but feeling safe and comfortable with them right now. ,,Let me just run it for you darling'' she assures and as she leaves you for a moment you watch Natasha, her back faced to you before the words spill out of you, barely audible but enough for the redhead to hear. ,,I'm sorry'' you whimper, instantly catching her attention as she turns around and walks over to you. Her eyebrows furrow as she takes a seat beside you ,,What are you sorry for?'' she asks sincerly.

,,For letting you both down, I know you taught me better than this but I didn't know what to do'' you hiccup. Her heart hurts at your statement, unable to form any words as she simply wraps her arms around you, holding you steady. ,,Never be sorry Y/N, this is not your fault'' she assures. Before you know it, Wanda guides you into their bathroom, a warm soothing bath already waiting for you. She had placed some warm towels near the sink for you, as well as one of her hoodies and leggins and some clean socks, knowing you wouldn't feel comfortable in your uniform. ,,Thank you Wands'' you mumble and for a moment there is a pause as the two of you look at each other.

,,Do you need any help? I can stay with you'' she offers but you feel self concious, not wanting her to see the full extend of your bruises, knowing they had only seen a couple so far and knowing the whole image would break them. ,,No thank you and thank you for this'' you smile at her and she nods, giving you the privacy you needed. ,,I'll just be out there, give me a shout if you need anything at all''. And with those words she leaves you, allowing you to undress yourself and soothe your bones in the bath that she had made for you. You instantly feel a little at ease, your muscles feeling less sore in an instant and you wonder whether Wanda had added more than just the bath bubbles she said she added for you, knowing her magic was strong.

When the Scarlet Witch returns to her girlfriend, Natasha sits on the sofa, both the rage and sadness written in her perfect features. Wanda sighs, not having expected this outcome but the pieces finally falling together and making sense after all. ,,I need to go and settle this Wands'' Natasha sighs, her knuckles turning white from the pure anger she is feeling in this moment. ,,I know my love but not like this'' she urges. ,,Help me fix us up some dinner and then we will figure this out together okay?'' the redhead suggests and Natasha nods, knowing her partner was right and if she so much as looked at Lucy right now, she wouldn't be able to control herself.

About half an hour, the two of them finish dinner, noticing you still aren't around and as their gazes meet, the worry is evident on their features. ,,I'll check on her'' Wanda announces. She knocks on the door a few times without success. Natasha follows, noticing the absence of your response. ,,Y/N darling'' Wanda tries again without success. In an instant Natasha opens the door, the two of them finding you asleep safe and soundly in the tub. Their hearts swell at the sight and Wanda is quick to fetch some of the warm towels, carefully scooping you up in her arms as you are knocked out cold. They dress and dry you with the most gentlest of touches, their eyes never prying.

After finishing, Natasha puts you to bed, tugging you in before Wanda suddenly storms off. ,,Where are you going?'' the Black Widow questions, having tried to ignore the state of your body so far and the new bruises and scars they had discovered. ,,Settling this'' Wanda hisses, her eyes glowing red with anger and Natasha lets her, knowing Lucy deserved every bit of Wanda's anger. The Scarlet Witch hurries through the corridor into the elevator, asking JARVIS where she could find Lucy.

Without a second thought she bursts through the door of your and Lucy's shared room, finding her with her back turned, looking out the window. ,,Where the hell have you been?'' she hisses, assuming it was you but when there is a lack of response she turns around, confusion washing over her as she finds Wanda instead. ,,What the hell are you doing here?'' she spits, seeing the red glowing of Wanda's hands. ,,You have exactly until tomorrow morning to leave this place and don't you ever try and return'' Wanda hisses, before storming into the bathroom and bedroom, collecting some of your things, ignoring Lucy's presence.

,,What are you rambling about? where is Y/N?'' she asks, following after the witch. ,,You will never see her again, never lay a single finger on her again'' Wanda warns, trying to hold back her magic, knowing one wrong move and it could wipe out her entire being from ever existing. ,,You have until tomorrow morning, if you aren't gone Natasha will surely have pleasure to see to it'' Wanda hisses as she collects some of your things from the bathroom. Before she can storm off, Lucy stands in her way, her angry eyes darting through Wanda. ,,She's a liar and a manipulator, I didn't do anything, not my fault she's been in love with you two for years'' she laughs bitterly, before Wanda pushes her aside, ignoring her comments and banging the door shut on her way out.

When Wanda returns, she finds you sitting with Natasha on the sofa, looking both comfortable and sleepy in her clothes. The redhead gently sets your things down and your questioning eyes find hers. ,,W- Wanda where were you?'' you stammer, fearing the worst. Wanda sighs deeply before kneeling in front of you ,,I have got some of your things darling, you'll stay with us tonight'' she assures. ,,By tomorrow morning Lucy will be gone and you won't ever have to see her again, she will never lay a hand on you again''. You find yourself in tears again at how protective they are, how they are putting your safety and needs first. ,,Tha- thank you'' is the only thing you manage to say before Wanda takes your hand and guides you to their dining table. ,,I'm sure you must be starving darling, lets eat something hm?'' she suggests and you nod at her offer, sitting between the two of them and enjoying the comfortable silence and occasional small talk.

During the remainder of the night, the two of them having you sandwiched and comfortable between them as you sit on the sofa watching a movie, you are lost in thought. Knowing this was for the best but somehow still reminsing the good times with Lucy, feeling bad you wouldn't get to talk to her yourself and be brave and find the courage to tell her exactly what you had been thinking yourself. Feeling bad to have her driven away from this place as she was good at her missions, belonged with the Avengers just like you did. And you didn't want to ruin it for her. Wanda and Natasha could tell you are lost in thoughts as you had been very quiet, not focusing on the movie much, missing some of the funny bits that has them both giggling or the jump scares, having them both jump.

In the end you let go off the thoughts, feeling so safe and comfortable with both of them that you simply fall asleep on Wanda's shoulder. They debated for a little bit how to do the sleeping situation as the couch wasn't nearly big enough for you three or even two people. And they worried leaving you here alone, knowing this was a lot to process. In the end, Natasha again took you in her strong safe arms, placing you in the middle of their big bed, both of them on either side of you, giving you some space but wanting you to not be alone incase you would wake up tonight and needed anything. And that night was the first night in a very long time where you had proper sleep. You had woken up at some point, confused by the strange surroundings until you found them next to you, sleepily and instictively crawling into their arms before falling asleep and not waking until late the next morning.

The two of them chuckled finding you in their arms, loving the feeling of holding you and knowing deep down that you belong with them, never with Lucy and never anyone else again. But they knew you needed time. Natasha and Wanda got up early, wanting nothing more than to stay beside you but knowing they had things to do. Wanda made sure to have a chat with Tony and the others, explaining the situation delicately and making sure they would take the three of you off missions for a little bit in order to let you and your body heal for a while. After she focused on making breakfast for the three of you, making sure to add some of your favorites, just like she remembered. Natasha in the meantime made sure Lucy was truly leaving, finding her with her bags packed in your room.

,,I hope you three will be very happy'' she spits and Natasha couldnt help but use her right hook on Lucy, a small portion of what she really meant to do to her. With a defeated ego, her bags and a broken nose she ended up leaving the compound, Natasha alerting JARVIS and security that she may never be seen on the premises again. The Black Widow made sure there are no reminders of her left in your room, if you wished to return.

By the time you wake up, finding the bed empty and the clock in their room showing it was past 10am you instantly rise to your feet, feeling panicked for sleeping in so long. Usually, you would have gotten told off for this by Lucy. You find both Wanda and Natasha in the kitchen, waiting for you with your favorite breakfast. ,,Good Morning Detka'' they greet you at the same time. Nervously, you take a seat, sipping some of the orange juice before meeting their gazes. ,,I'm sorry for sleeping so long'' you apologize and Wanda quickly chuckles and shakes her head. ,,Nonsense you were exhausted detka'' she assures. ,,How exactly did I end up in your bed?'' you ask a little shily and Natasha can't help but chuckle ,,You fell asleep on us and we took you to bed, we didn't want you alone in the livingroom'' she assures and you nod.

,,Is she gone?'' you ask after a while of eating breakfast with them in comfortable silence. ,,Yes she's gone'' Wanda assures and they see the tension leaving from your shoulders. The remainder of the day you spent with them as they take it slow with you, going on a walk in the afternoon, eating dinner with you and watching another movie with you in the evening. You felt at ease, knowing this was going to haunt you for a while to come but feeling safe with them. The routine of the prior night repeats as you fall asleep on them and they take you to bed, you not feeling comfortable with sleeping alone and the two of them liking your presence.

The weeks to follow had been filled with many ups and downs, days where you barely managed to get out of bed, days where you were full of energy before reality came crashing down on you. Natasha and Wanda had been with you every step of the way, getting your body and soul enough rest to heal from this. Eventually you moved back into your old room, feeling like intruding on them. You still ate with them, trained with them, eventually even joined them on missions again. You spent your days the way you always had before Lucy, right with them and where you belong. The nights had been lonely often, filled with nightmares or the inability to sleep at all. But slowly you started to heal, focusing on yourself again and slowly as the months passed both Wanda and Natasha seemed content, having you back and feeling like their sunshine was back again.

Your body had healed, the bruises and scars long gone now, the scars on your soul still lingering but fading with each day, with every moment of spending time with them, every soft gentle touch, every reminder that you are worth it. And in the end you started to believe it too, knowing your abilities and never wanting anything like this to ever happen again. It's not until one of Tony's birthday parties that your emotions get the better off you. It had almost been a year without her, a year without pain, without beatings, without feeling like you are worthless every minute of every day. But somehow tonight felt strange, despite having fun with Wanda and Natasha and getting ready with them, Wanda letting you borrow one of her dresses.

You somehow felt empty that night, eventually stealing away to one of the balconies, away from the crowds. Your heart had been feeling strange lately, a longing that you couldn't quite grasp. Each day your thoughts had been consumed by them, their touches on you, their words and how gentle they had been with you. And you felt sad, having missed your chance, longing for someone like them and despite liking your freedoom, also feeling incredibly lonely at night. For the past few days you had been more quiet and they had noticed of course, having tried to get the truth out of you but you didn't feel ready to tell either of them how you truly had been feeling.

,,Penny for your thoughts?'' Natasha interrupts the peace and as you turn around you find her in the black dress that complemented her features perfectly. Wanda is right beside her, the red dress matching the wine glass she is holding perfectly and you couldn't help but smile, seeing them so happy, so perfect for each other. ,,Hi there'' you greet them, feeling slightly tipsy from the amount of drinks you had been having in order to forget.

,,Enjoying the view?'' Wanda teases and you freeze for a moment until she looks at the sky filled with stars and the moon shining down brightly on the compound. ,,Yeah it's peaceful, I like it'' you admit and they both join you, before Natasha offers you to sit down on one of the large outdoor sofas. ,,What's been on your mind detka?'' she asks, having noticed and not wanting to worry anymore, simply wanting to get the all too familiar smile back she had been in love with for years.

,,I've just been thinking a lot lately'' you admit, staring at the now empty glass in your shaking hands. ,,What about love?'' Wanda asks carefully, tilting her head a little in order to catch a better glimpse of you. ,,About life, you know?'' you sigh and Natasha can't help but chuckle. ,,Come on detka, tell us'' she smiles warmly, enjoying the poetic side of you. ,,I just regret things you know? with Lucy and before and the choices I made'' you sigh. ,,I can't help but wonder what my future would have been like if I didn't-'' you stop yourself, not wanting to ruin what you had built with them by filling them in how you truly had been feeling.

Wanda and Natasha had talked a lot in the last few months, wanting to give you space and time to heal but having realized you belong with them. And they knew, it didn't take Natasha's spy skills or Wanda's magic to figure out that you felt the same way but they never wanted it to be too soon, never wanting to push you unil you were truly ready. But they could see the way you look at them holding hands, thinking about how your hand would fit in it so perfectly. Seeing their loving glances and how your heart equally beat for them, wanting to feel them on you, thinking about what their lips felt like on yours.

,,Didn't choose us over her?'' Natasha questions bluntly, knowing it was the right time to adress this tonight. Your eyes widen at her statement, before your gaze averts them, nodding before looking into the distance. Her statement surprised you as you never truly knew whether there was an us considering the two of them had always loved each other, long before you even joined them. ,,Tell us how you feel'' Wanda encourages, her green eyes staring right into your soul. ,,I can't'' you sigh, your heart beating out of your chest at this point. ,,Why?'' Natasha questions curiously, enjoying the sight of you squirming. ,,Because I don't want to ruin what we have'' you admit, tears filling your vision.

,,You could never darling'' Wanda assures and then it bursts out of you. ,,I wish I never got with her or even if I did I wish I would have stood up for myself, I feel lonely, my heart aches for...'' you still can't finish your sentence but Natasha is quite happy finishing it for you. ,,For us?'' she questions, a smirk playing on her lips and your eyes widen again at her bluntness. ,,Yes'' you admit, tears lingering in your eyes. ,,And I know you've got each other and would never feel the same but you just are so kind and perfect to me'' you admit.

This time Wanda breaks the silence, taking your hand into her own and abandoning the glass you had been holding. ,,Detka, we have been in love with you for years you know'' she admits and instantly your eyes snap towards her green ones. ,,Natasha hated every single day of you not being with us and we know it hasn't been easy for you lately, thats why we never said anything but you belong with us'' she admits and when you look at Natasha and see the sincerity in her eyes, you almost can't believe this is real and not one of your daydreams.

,,You.. you love me?'' you question, wanting to make sure you understood them right. ,,Yes silly, now the question is, do you love us?'' Natasha teases again and you can't help but blush under their gazes before nodding. ,,Good, I'm glad we finally talked about that'' she smiles before taking a sip from her drink. ,,Now whenever you are ready, we can have a conversation about this properly okay? but know you never have to be lonely again with us or scared, we will be there, we will take care of you because you belong with us'' Wanda confesses and you nod weakly, still feeling like you are in a daze.

,,Need a refill?'' Natasha offers and you chuckle a little reliefed before nodding. ,,Lets go then'' they suggest and you follow them as they take you to the bar. You end up dancing with them, drinking with them and giggling with them, finally feeling like you belong, still unable to believe any of this is real. After a while, you suddenly look at them both with an expression neither of them could read. ,,Nat?'' you mumble, not wanting anyone else to hear what you are about to say. ,,Yes detka?'' she asks, leaning in a little closer, her eyes piercing into your own and her lips so close to your own.

,,What if I'm ready now?'' you blurt out, feeling both the effects of the alcohol and the confession from before, mixed with adrenaline. ,,What?'' she asks confused, not understanding what you are implying. ,,You said to tell you when I'm ready, what if I'm ready for you both, right now?'' you ask again, this time much clearer and Natashas's eyes quickly meet Wanda's the lust in your own blending in with theirs. ,,Yes.. Yes I mean if you're sure'' she mumbles before you nod. ,,Then come on, we'll take good care of you'' Natasha offers and you take their hands into your own as they lead you away from the crowds towards their room, their hungry lips and hands already on you as soon as you step into the elevator and the door closes behind you.

And despite everything that had happened, you finally know you belong. With them, always.

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