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sorrowsofsilence · 1 year ago

Text

Deeper • Ruffilo

Pairing: Nicholas Ruffilo x FemReader

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut (18+, unprotected PnV pls wrap it before u tap it, slight breeding, inside orgasm), alcohol, swearing, jealousy, teasing. Legit just smut but with some plot lol

Prompt: you know what they say, bassist string it deeper.

Authors note: I’m so fucking tired but I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am a literal puddle. Also this ended up being way longer than intended, oops :3

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @th4t-em0-k1d @lans-angels @dsireland86

Well, you know what they say, bassists do it deeper.

Ruffilo was never a fan of social situations, or people he didn’t know. If he could stay at home and away from the public’s eye, he would. He’d be happy just living with his best friends and some cats, as he was extremely shy; but he was also very needy.

Nick was always fighting for your attention; especially when you laughed a little too hard at one of Folio’s jokes, or a sarcastic comment of Jolly’s. He’d wrap your fingers through his, pulling at your arm so you would sit next to him, tugging you gently away from whoever else you were talking to. Sometimes he got jealous of all the attention you’d receive, especially when out in public; but if anything he despised when you talked to Noah. You were definitely waaay too flirty with him- in Nick’s opinion- but he’d never tell you he thought this because you and him were just friends. Noah played into the teasing you gave him; even though he knew Nick had a thing for you.

It was Halloween, Noah’s birthday; all the boys plus a bunch of friends were celebrating in their Los Angeles home. Nick’s leg bounced anxiously as he sat at the kitchen table with a drink in hand, waiting for you to show up. He exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes staying fixed on the front door as he took a sip, nearly spitting out the vile red mixture. Vodka cran my ass tastes more like some sort of disgusting pink Whitney mix. He thought.

Nick’s mind began to race, thinking about you. You were an hour late, something that rarely occurred because you were always extremely punctual. He wondered where you were; his comfort person. His anxiety was rampant at the amount of people in their house. All he wanted was to see you, so you could tell him everything would be okay; but also because he was head over heels in fucking love with you.

Folio and Jolly were off playing a game of definitely rigged cup-pong, while Noah jumped through various conversations with each guest, thanking everyone for showing up to celebrate his birthday.

Nick took another sip, hand shaking in anticipation as he watched various couples dance through the kitchen, the music loud, echoing through the walls. He readjusted his Jedi- robes multiple times, tugging on the fabric nervously.

Finally, the front door opened, and Nick had to stop himself from standing up immediately at the sight of you, ready for you to hold him in your arms. You waltzed into the house, the thick-heeled boots you wore thumping against the ground, following the beat of his heart.

You smiled when your eyes met his, your dark burgundy lipstick parting, radiating against your skin; his heart pounded heavily. His eyes fought the urge to skim across your body, particularly across your exposed thighs, as the short black skirt you wore rode up dangerously high. He was practically melting in his chair, pants beginning to tighten at the thought of bending you over the counter, taking you from behind.

“What’s up Anakin,” you said, your own eyes glancing across his robes, grinning at his nerdy costume. Nick was always such a dork for Star Wars, but he was your dork.

Nick smiled, relief evident on his face that you were here; but the lingering lust he felt towards you crawled through his skin. His throat began to tighten, and words fumbled. He grabbed his cup, swallowing the remaining vodka-Whitney-cran or whatever the fuck it was, eyeing your every move as you made yourself at home, navigating through the kitchen with ease.

You placed your grocery bag of snacks and drinks you brought in the fridge, closing the door with your heel before cracking open a cooler, and taking a sip as you turned towards Nick. He loved how comfortable you were here, in his house, as if it was your own. Where you were meant to be.

“Hey,” Nick nodded, the corners of his mouth turned up. “Freddy Kruger.”

He maintained eye contact, your E/C eyes lingering in his, the glint in them playful, as if you knew what you were doing to him. The cut-up red and black striped sweater hung cropped across your body, leaving one shoulder exposed, a variety of fake slashes drawn into your skin. The faux-clawed glove was placed on your non-dominant hand, and a brimmed felt hat was placed on top of your head.

“Do you like it?” You asked, giving a slight twirl, and as you turned Nick swore he could see the bottom outline of your cheeks. His face flushed as he shifted in his seat, eyes turning to the floor, becoming very interested in the wood.

“You look fantastic,” Nick said.

You smiled as your face warmed at Nick’s words, even if prompted. Taking another sip of your cooler you hoisted yourself on the counter, sitting on top of the faux marble, the top cold against your thighs.

Nick’s silver eyes glanced up at you through his lashes, before he stood up, grabbing himself another drink.

“You drunk yet?” You asked him, and Nick shook his head in response.

“I was waiting for you, plus, I didn’t want to participate in folio’s rigged version of cup pong. Who plays it where if you miss the ball you drink?” Nick pressed his lips together, before going back to the punch bowl to fill his cup.

“The hell is that?” You nodded towards the bowl, curious about what sort of Halloween-themed drink was made.

“Some garbage Jolly mixed up.” Nick looked into the cup, shrugging before taking another sip. His eyebrows furrowed in disgust, squeezing his eyes shut.

A laugh escaped your lips, “Let me try.”

Nick walked towards you, your legs parting slightly as he stood between you, careful not to get too close, reaching the cup out for you to grab.

Instead of grabbing the cup you leaned forward, placing your lips against the plastic, prompting Nick to feed you the liquid. He tilted the cup, eyes watching your lips intensely as you followed his stare. You took a big sip, coughing after you pulled away. The alcohol flowed down your throat, burning at its strength.

“Jesus, that’s fucking gross,” you covered your mouth briefly before taking a chaser of your drink. You chugged the rest, letting your legs swing as they dangled off the counter, Nick still standing close to you, the heat radiating off of him.

You leaned to the side, tossing the can into the recycling as Noah turned the corner, his eyes brightening into a drunken smile as he swayed towards you, open arms.

“Y/N!” He yelled, the bass of the music pumping in the background.

“Noah!” You immediately jumped off of the counter, being engulfed in his embrace. Noah’s hands trailed down your back, dangerously close to the bottom of your skirt. “Happy birthday you nerd!”

Nick watched as you two hugged, his chest tightening as Noah’s hand rubbed up and down your body.

The two of you swayed, Noah, leaning all of his weight into you in a drunken state. You smiled into Noah’s hug, squeezing him. As you pulled away, you readjusted his Leaf Village headband, a sly smile playing on your lips.

“You’re such a dweeb,” you pushed Noah’s shoulder, and he smiled staring down at you, “and you’re so drunk already.”

“Nahh ” Noah wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you against him, “you’re just not drunk enough. Time for some shots!”

You laughed, agreeing as Noah reached into a cupboard for a bottle of tequila- something he knew was your favourite. Noah filled two shot glasses, before you wrapped your elbows around each other, taking two shots of alcohol together in a ritualistic fashion.

Nick averted his eyes as his breath hitched, refusing to watch as Noah held you to his side after the two glasses rested back on the counter.

Your head rested on Noah’s shoulder as you hiccuped from the alcohol, eyes looking up at him. Noah began to sway back and forth to the music, pulling you along with him, before swinging you around. You laughed with Noah, smiles beaming against each other. You followed Noah’s body but watched Nick the entire time.

Nick didn’t look at you, eyes fixated on his cup that he took another drink from, swallowing every drop of liquid. You sighed, shrugging Noah off of you before walking up to Nick, and wrapping your arms around him. He stiffened at your touch but put his arms around you.

“Aw Nicky, are you jealous?” You teased, reaching up to run your fingers through his long dark hair. Your chest rested against his own, and you could feel his heart vibrate against yours. You tried pulling his body to dance with the music, but he remained put, placing his arms across your back, hand holding you against his chest.

“Thanks for the drink No-wah,” you smiled cheekily at him.

Noah grabbed a beer from the counter, “anything for my baby girl.”

Nick was jealous. He was jealous at how easy you and Noah got along, and how you were ready to be in Noah’s arms at any second, but he didn’t know that you knew this got under his skin.

You knew flirting with Noah made Nick jealous, and you loved how possessive Nick always got once you went crawling back to him. You wanted Nick to be jealous, and you wanted him to want you.

Both of you desired each other, but neither was brave enough to make a move.

“C'mon,” you grabbed another cooler from the fridge for you and Nick, bending over slightly in his direction so your ass was barely exposed to him.

Standing up you sauntered towards him, hanging him the can before grabbing his hand. Feeling the warm feeling of the alcohol start to pulse through your veins, you tugged him along the house, walking past the crowd of people before you walked into the living room.

You wrapped your fingers in Nick’s inked ones, holding him close to you.

The living room was packed with people, the only spot available being on the couch; for one person.

You motioned for Nick to sit before inviting yourself to sit on his lap. Nick’s breath caught in his throat in surprise.

You wiggled to get comfortable, and Nick placed his arms across your torso, holding you still against him.

You knew he wouldn’t be able to contain his excitement if you kept moving.

Folio and Jolly’s cup pong game was going on in front of you, and as you brought the can of alcohol to your lips you couldn't help but let a sly smile play at your lips as you thought about teasing the man beneath you.

You pushed into his lap, wriggling your hips along to the music.

“Sorry Nicky, trying to get comfortable,” you said playfully, chugging the can of alcohol before placing it on the coffee table.

Nick’s fingers dug into your hips, attempting to hold you still against him; but he hardened beneath you, a quiet groan heaving from his throat as you shifted along his lap.

“Y/N,” Nick warned, letting a hand go as he grabbed his can, drinking the entire thing to give him the liquid courage.

Both of you felt the buzz of inebriation, allowing the warmth to consume you. Pretending to be invested in the game ahead you leaned back, placing your back against Nick’s chest, letting his hands roam the top of your thighs.

“What are you doing,” Nick asked through gritted teeth, but his heart raced in anticipation at your actions.

You dug your hips into him, feeling the music. No one would be paying attention to the two of you, everyone, including yourselves, would be too drunk to notice.

Sitting up you spun your body so you were straddling his waist, legs parted on either side of him. Your skirt was so short it rode up, exposing the underwear you wore beneath; but only for him to see.

Nick swallowed harshly, eyes glazing over in infatuation as he watched you, your lip finding its way between your teeth. Placing your arms around his neck you eyed every expression, glazing over every detail of his face as Nick flushed. As your body swung back and forth gently, you gained the courage to lean forward, placing a gentle kiss on Nick’s lips.

Nick stared at you, almost in shock. He wasn’t sure if this was a prank, or if he was already so far gone that he was lucid dreaming.

Nick's hands glided along your thighs as they gripped you from behind, squeezing gently. You had kissed him, and his entire body was on fire.

“Kiss me,” you said in a hoard whisper, almost desperate, waiting for Nick to respond to your first move.

Nick was hesitant and nervous as he pulled himself closer to your lips, brushing over them gently, before closing the gap between you.

You sighed into his mouth, relieved as Nick reciprocated feelings, allowing yourself to relax into his touch, body heating as his hands roamed behind you, squeezing gently at the skin.

You deepened the kiss, pushing your lips firmly into his, closed-mouth kisses opening with each wave, allowing your hands to roam into his hair, tugging softly on the strands.

Nicks's body convulsed below you, and he pulled away, staring up at you with awe.

“Want to go upstairs?” You asked, and he nodded eagerly as you crawled off of him. Nick grabbed your hand hastily as he pulled you behind him, the journey up the stairs feeling like it dragged on forever.

The music pumped below you as Nick closed his bedroom door, the sound dampening ever so slightly, the floor shaking with the bass.

Nick immediately shoved you into the wall, lips all over yours in desperation, devouring you, years of pent-up need coming out full throttle.

His hand roamed up your body underneath your torn long sleeve, granting himself access to all the curves he’d dreamed of touching. The number of times he touched himself, fantasizing about your taste, left his knees weak as he let his mouth explore yours, finally.

You moaned against Nick's lips as he fondled your chest, his hands searching very crevasse of your being through years of missed opportunity. You moulded into his touch, feeling excited as your abdomen vibrated in complete want for the man holding you against the wall.

Nick's fingers lingered underneath your skirt before pulling it up gently, grazing between your panties before roaming back up.

You moaned against the subtle tease, eyebrows furrowing as you pulled away from his kiss.

“Nick, please, don’t tease me,” you whined, pressing your forehead against his own.

Silver eyes bore into you as his lips tugged up into a sly smile, “if you don’t like my teasing, why are you moaning?”

Nick’s fingers roamed between your legs again, gently pressing where you needed him most and a feral sound escaped your lips, leaving you embarrassed. Nick stared at you with lust, almost in shock by how you were reacting to him. Nick allowed his fingers to glide between your body and underwear, feeling between your folds. His already hard body pulsing even deeper as he felt how soaked you were; all for him.

“Please,” you said as he touched you.

“Please don’t stop Nicky,” you whispered as his hand dipped between your layers. Nick planned to make her soar, but first, he loved hearing you beg for him, and only him.

“What do you want,” Nick's lips brushed across yours, this unknown confidence sending his hormones to the moon. The woman of his dreams was wriggling beneath him, desperate for anything he had to offer.

“I need you,” you said, pulling his face into yours again, allowing your tongue to explore his mouth, tasting all of him. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t even walk.”

Nick almost melted at your words, his heart beating so fast in disbelief. You want him to pleasure you.

He nodded eagerly, pulling you towards his bed, and tossing the Star Wars bed sheets aside. Nick pushed you into the bed, on top of you with all of his weight, allowing himself to dominate over your body.

Kissing down your neck your hands roamed across his back, and finally, he stared you down.

“Are you sure you want to do this Y/N? Because there is no way we are just fucking friends after this. You’re mine.”

You shuddered at Nick's possession, nodding, “I’ve always wanted to do a little more than kiss.”

Nick blushed, kissing you again before letting his lips trail down your neck, sucking on the delicate skin that lay between your neck and collarbone.

“You’re mine.” He said, marking what was his property before turning your body so you were above him.

“Ride me until your legs start shaking from the pleasure. Let me fuck you so deep you can’t even think about anybody else ever again; then I’ll flip you over and drill you to finish it off.” Nick growled, and your eyes widened at this needy side of Nick you’ve never seen before, but you were ready to give him anything he wanted.

Nick pulled off his robes, leaving his body exposed for you, you pulled off your sweater, showing off your chest and Nick's eyes devoured you, absorbing everything you showed him. He’d dreamed of this moment and what you looked like many times: but even his mind couldn’t come up with anything as beautiful as the real thing.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous,” he worshipped you allowing his hands to follow your curves once again. He pulled up your skirt, exposing your lower body as he moved your underwear to the side, positioning himself below you.

“I can’t believe you wore a skirt this small with no fucking shorts,” Nick mumbled, preparing himself.

“I wore it just for you,” you smiled, before closing the gap and pushing down onto Nick’s body, your arousal gliding you smoothly along him. Both of you groaned in disbelief, Nick relishing in how good you felt wrapped around him, his body finally reaching every part of you.

Your mouth opened widely as Nick filled you, a squeak of shock tugging at your throat as Nick squeezed your sides, pulling you up and down to get you to move.

You slid up and down his body with ease, hands on his chest for support as you road him, rolling and grinding deeper into his body, Nick hitting every point possible. Nick wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest as he began pounding into you from below, putting all of his effort into fucking you.

“Moan for me Y/N,” Nick begged, “show everyone who’s fucking mine.”

Nick's hands gripped the back of your head, fingers tangled in his hair. Every ounce of his body vibrated as he fucked you, his hips slapping against your thighs as you straddled his lap, taking everything he offered. He gave you his everything, never fucking anyone as hard as you, wanting to make you feel good.

Nick couldn’t believe how fucking beautiful you were as you cried out his name, the syllabus rolling off your tongue in complete satisfaction; and Nick knew that he would cum at any moment. He slowed his pace, wanting this to last forever.

Your nails dug into Nick’s shoulders as you clung to him, taking him well. Nick hoped you were loud enough against the music so Noah would hear; he wanted him to know that you finally got what was rightfully his.

You moaned Nick’s name as your stomach churned, nearing your release; Nick repeatedly hitting your spot over and over. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, your body turning limp as you screamed, shaking and convulsing against Nick through your orgasm.

Nick pushed into you, and you swear if he fucked any harder he’d be able to split you in half with how deep he penetrated.

“Where can I come?” Nick asked, on the brink of his climax. Y/N’s skin stuck against Nick’s chest.

“Fuck, inside of me,” you cried, pushing yourself against Nick’s hips, the only sounds filling the room were the sound of fast slaps and a string of moans fighting against the bass of the music below.

“Oh my god Y/N I’m going to I’m going-“ Nick’s fingers dug into your back, tearing your skin as he shook below you, twitching inside through his orgasm. You kissed him deeply, moaning against his lips in complete satisfaction as his release filled you, taking over your body.

“Fuck,” your head swung back, a wide smile parting your lips before you looked down at him, still sitting on top of his body.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you moan,” Nick smiled, satisfied as he rolled you over, pulling him into his chest, “it was fucking music to my ears.”

You chuckled, nuzzling against his chest, “So, friends off?”

Nick joined you, his throat vibrating as he laughed, “Oh yea, I’m ready to move to the stage where we can fuck whenever we want. Oh, and I can take you to dinner and we can hold hands.”

You smiled, holding yourself closer to him, “Deal, but only if I can suck you off next time.”

———

Who’s next, folio or jolly? ;)

#i’m going to hell #pls enjoy this I’m a mess #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #bad omens smut #nick ruffilo fluff #nick ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo #nick ruffilo smut #nicholas ruffilo smut #smut #Halloween #Noah Sebastian

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honeybeefae · 2 years ago

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predator/prey with Cassian?

Thrill of the Chase (Cassian x Reader)

BINGO: Predator/Prey

(Okay I’m not gonna lie I’m a Cassian girly through and through and I am SO happy seeing all this love for him. I hope you guys enjoy this because it was hella fun to write! Also this prompt got asked for a lot with different characters so don't think I forgot you! I see you all!)

WARNINGS: Smut, Predator/Prey, Biting, Rough sex, Slight breeding kink lol I couldn’t help myself

The summer air was warm if not a little stifling as you raced through the forest's edge that surrounded your and Cassian’s home. All you had on was a thin slip, the straps sliding down your shoulders while your bare feet sunk slightly into the ground with each step.

You could hear your heart racing in your ears as you dared a look back, only seeing the inky black of the night staring back at you. Cassian had started this entire game when the two of you played hide and seek in the house, starting off as an innocent game until it took longer than anticipated to find you.

Each footstep you heard, each room he entered, had your stomach in knots while also causing you to get excited the closer he got. It was almost a primal reaction, the way your pussy was throbbing, especially when he had yanked open the door and found you.

He had stood above you, wings outstretched, and his smile feral and you felt a thrill of fear and arousal shock your entire body. Before you could fully think your decision through you bolted past him and out the back door. The chase was on.

Your feet dug into the dirt as you stopped suddenly and hid underneath a small bush. You did your best to control your breathing as you desperately searched for any sign of him, your hands shaking as you heard nothing but silence.

Until two large hands wrapped around your ankles and yanked you out into the open air.

“No!” You screamed, fingernails digging into the soil of the earth as you were suddenly flipped onto your back with Cassian looming above you. He was shirtless, a sheen of sweat covering his body as he pinned you underneath him.

“Did you really think you could run from me, princess?” He taunted, holding your hands together with one hand while the other ripped your slip completely off your body. “Did you think I wouldn’t come collect what’s mine?”

“Please…” You begged, not sure if it was for him to release you or to touch you. Cassian grinned and clicked his tongue, dark curls hanging from his head as he used his free hand to collect the juices that were pooling in your sex.

“Gods, you’re dripping,” He groaned, thrusting two fingers into you sloppily for a few moments before pulling them out and shoving them against your lips until you opened for him. “Taste yourself, princess. Taste how wet you are.”

You almost gagged when he pushed them all the way back into your throat, tasting your excitement and stroking his fingers with your tongue to tease him. Cassian bared his teeth and pulled his fingers out, shoving his pants halfway down his legs before lining himself up with your entrance.

“Stay still for me.” He purrs, shoving your legs open with his knee before filling you up with one thrust. You immediately arch upwards, the fullness making you cry out as he sets a brutal pace. “Fuck, so fucking good.”

The sounds he was pulling out of you were guttaral as you clung onto him for dear life, your legs haphazardly wrapped around him so he could go deeper. Cassian buried his face into your neck as he rutted into you like a beast in heat, his low growls and moans making you even wetter.

It felt like your entire body was on fire as you got pounded into the ground. You were able to wiggle one hand free from his grip and start to run it over the tips of his wings, enjoying the way he gave a full-body shudder from the contact.

“You’re such a little tease.” He smirked, mouthing at your neck. “Running from me, getting me all riled up, and now touching me like this? And you’re taking me so well.”

“Only for you.” You whimper, your tits bouncing from how hard he was fucking you. “I’m so close, Cass, please!”

“You’re so cute when you beg for my cum.” He cooed. “That’s what you want right? Do you want me to fill you up until you’re bursting?”

“Yes!” You sob, your release only seconds away as he grunts.

“Then take it, princess. Don’t waste a single drop.”

Cassian bites the junction of your shoulder and neck until the tangy taste of copper fills his mouth. The pain sends you over the edge and you clench around him, your body going rigid as you milk him for several minutes. He follows along with you, his balls tightening before releasing all of his seed. You can feel it coat your walls and it almost sends you into a second orgasm.

By the end of it both are you panting heavily, covered in dirt and bites, and reveling in one of the best fucks of your life.

“I think I want you to chase me more often.” You sigh, cupping his face as he smiles.

“I think I want to chase you for the rest of my life, princess.”

#acotar #acotar reader #acotar reader smut #acotar smut #acotar imagine #cassian x reader smut #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x reader acotar #cassian x reader acotar smut #reader acotar #acotar smut reader #acotar bingo #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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rrxnjun · 2 years ago

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ok. i was gonna reply to ur comment but it got a bit too long of a rant HAHAHHA sorry😭

but girl i will never stop raving about ur fics istg like something about the way you write and your characters always seem to hit home for me like i always seem to connect with your characters. you make their emotions and the scenarios they're in so vivid and raw and IBFIWRFO i eat it up😭😭😭

i never used to like reading angst but you execute it so well that i'll literally love it when you do it (e.g. fics like two people, when nobody's watching, potential) IDK MAN it physically hurts my heart I FEEL THE EMOTIONS OF THE CHARACTERS MAN IDK

when nobody's watching: when the reader's looking at renjun thru the years from her perspective when the reader wants to reach out, I WANT TO REACH OUT LIKESJFGOWRG WHEN RENJUN SMASHES THE BOTTLE AT THE PARTY YK????

two people: the way you describe jeno and y/n's suffocating one way relationship, I UNDERSTAND THE READER!!! jeno is perfect, he tries to fix the relationship but IT JUST DOESNT WORK THAT WAY the relationship was way over before he tried to fix it and ITS SO REAL!!!! the inner turmoil the reader went thru and the slow changing feels for mark WAS JUST- UGH *chefs kiss

potential: man. where do i even start with this fic. it's a storyline that i never knew i needed to read in my life. like bar u don't understand, potential had me in despair for the next 4 days. i can understand chenle's pain, y/n's confusion, their complicated love for each other. i don't think words can describe how special this story is to me.

this.... became a lot longer than i anticipated and IM SORRY FOR RAMBLING ON ABOUT THE SAME THREE FICS OVER AND OVER OSBFOWRGO but seriously tho, i genuinely love everything you put out, keep up the hard work💗

(i think this is the longest ask i've ever sent lol)

i treat writing as my therapy session so maybe thats why the characters are always so raw- NO but omg this is such an honor bc i really focus more on the characters than the plot i think and i really try to develop them really well and stuff and i focus a lot on the feelings and emotions so >:((( i am so happy that you like that about my writing !!!

the paradox is that i HATE reading angst. like if its in a long fic where its mixed up i dont mind and i think its important to have angstier parts in a long fic too but if its a drabble and its angsty i just won't read it LMAOOO

when nobody's watching was such a spontaneous fic istg i wrote it in what. two days? at uni LMAO. i got the idea when i was like,, watching this guy from afar and then i realised i ALWAYS DO THIS like i always have those silly crushes on ppl and never tell them bc im scared but i care so deeply for ppl that dont even know i exist 😭😭😭 but also i find that i used to change myself a lot to fit into social circles and even tho uni was really lonely for me at first that i kinda let go of that the same way renjun did so it was definitely cathartic to write :,)

honestly to this day idk how i even managed to write two people. like i think its the only fic i have thats about adult mature ppl LMAO all my other fics are like college aus and shit. like where did all of that pain and angst even come from ???? but i am so glad u liked it, i didnt expect ppl to enjoy that kind of fic >:((

DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON POTENTIAL why are my best fics always the most spontaneous. its literally like in my top 5 fav fics ive ever written so i am insanely happy that you like it sm !!! <33 chenle's character in this fic is insanely personal to me also :,) the readers and his dynamic is also one of my favs ive ever written,, idk idk theres just something about this fic...

i am really honored to recieve this in my inbox its so sweet of you and i definitely appreciate it a LOT hope you dont mind me rambling about the fics i just enjoy talking about my writing :,)

#💌ask #j 🌱#feedback !!#fic: when nobody's watching #fic: potential #fic: two people

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thecreelhouse · 10 months ago

Text

accident prone

part six - a world I can call mine

Paring: Steve Harrington x Francesca “Frankie” Amato (fem!OC)

Summary: Despite Steve’s past trying to haunt him again, and Frankie’s insecurities holding her back, the unlikely couple navigate their way through it all, realizing that love really is the point of it all.

WC: 17k (lol my bad)

Includes: language, PTSD (related to July 4th 1985), some hurt/tons of comfort, fluff, soft/emotional smut (keeping it as realistic as possible in theme with the rest of the series), fibromyalgia, lupus, internalized ableism, body image issues, happy endings and one more happy surprise for our boy ☺️

series playlist ⋮ masterlist ⋮ mixtape from part five

frankie - bruce springsteen

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

“well Frankie I don't know what I'm gonna find / maybe nothing at all, maybe a world I can call mine shining like these streetlights down here on the strand / bright as the rain in the palm of your hand”

A/N: we’re finally here, last part of this little series! I’m sorry for the delay on posting (funnily, from med. issues lmao). this ended up being 3 parts longer than anticipated, but I think it was for the best to properly give detail to Steve’s PTSD/chronic illness, and Frankie’s backstory. tysm to anyone who took the time to give fic a chance, especially to y’all who stuck around and supported the hell out of this with kind comments, messages, etc. I knew going into this writing an OC wouldn’t be popular, but I am so glad I stuck with this until the end, bc it reached some fellow sick babes that could relate, and that means more than high numbers of notes. who knows, maybe I’ll end up writing some blurbs for these two down the road 🥰 sorry for the rambling! tl;dr: thanks for the support, ily, and I hope you enjoy the ending <3

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

It’s the Fourth of July.

Steve hates the Fourth of July.

The rest of Chicago is abuzz with parties and cookouts, scents of freshly cut grass and grilled food linger longingly in the summer’s heat; Steve’s got the AC cranked, curtains drawn shut, burrowed deep under his covers. Every so often, someone sets off firecrackers— aren’t those illegal here, too?— and with each sharp, fleeting sound, echoing above the dull hum of the air conditioner, he winces, flinches.

Steve pulls at the drawstrings of Frankie’s hoodie, all pilly and worn in, and as close to a hug as he can get from her right now. It smells like her, floral notes that don’t trigger his migraines; a blessing in disguise. He understands the infatuation previous partners of his had with stealing his comfy clothes now, how comforting it is to slip into someone’s personal security blanket. An armor of soft safety, shielding him from a day filled to the brim with triggers, threatening to shove him back into one of the most horrific nights of his life.

Things, events, people he never once thought twice about have become triggers after surviving Starcourt’s demise. The flip side to triggers, though, is when the positive impacts you enough to bring you joy, comfort, by the tiniest, mundane details in life. Right now, this sweatshirt was bringing him enough comfort to stay grounded.

He’d rather it was Frankie wrapped around him instead, but he’ll take what he can get. While she tried bailing on plans with her family to take care of him, Steve insisted she go and enjoy herself.

Originally, Steve had plans with his friends, a night of distractions like movies and DnD and whatever else they could come up with. Even if there were fireworks present, Steve could endure them with his friends; Robin and Dustin understood the PTSD firsthand, and Eddie, who wasn’t there that night, was still empathetic as always.

Instead, a migraine came along and ruined it all. Steve couldn’t take any lights or sounds, and though the distraction from fireworks would’ve helped, he couldn’t bring himself to ruin the fun his friends would have. Though they insisted his mental health came first before their plans, he insisted further that they’d enjoy the night than be stuck inside with a wet blanket like him. It’s not like anyone can help, or take the pain away; he takes his meds, makes himself as comfortable as possible, and tries to ride out the rest of the night.

Could’ve sworn fireworks were illegal in the entire state, what the fuck?

He remembers being on vacation with his family as a kid, staring at all of the pop-up tents selling fireworks just at the edge of the state border as they drove by. Laws surrounding fireworks for Indiana weren’t nearly as tough, so it was common for folks to cross state lines to pick up some dangerous party favors.

Back then, Steve loved fireworks. His parents still paid little to no attention to him, but fireworks meant sparklers, and sparklers meant playing with his cousins on vacation. Running around, scream-laughing as children do, chasing fireflies to catch and playing with the sparklers�� under adult supervision, of course. Not from his parents, of course.

Once the big fireworks were set off, his eyes would light up in awe as the sky above would explode into glittering patterns. He and the other kids would give their ooohs and aahhs, mesmerized by the twinkling bursts of fire, booming loud enough to shake in his chest.

It was one of the rare moments as a child where he didn’t feel so alone.

Steve now, though, barely knows that kid of the past, apologizing silently to his younger self quite often on this holiday for all the failure as an adult. If he could go back in time and shield himself from the future, he’d—

A loud bang rattles outside his window, startling all thoughts from his mind. His meds aren’t kicking in fast enough, so he’s left grabbing at his ears, palms flush against his head to block out the noise pounding through his brain as his eyes screw shut.

“I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe.”

Another sharp crack, then a high pitched whistle, followed by a rumbling boom— it doesn’t matter how tightly his eyes are shut, he can still see himself and the others throwing explosives at the Mind Flayer down in Starcourt’s food court. He’s so deep into the past again, he can barely see out of his eye, the one swollen shut all those years ago. The one that he loses his vision in when the ocular migraines ramp up. The one where he scared Frankie during one of his worst episodes, casually pointing out, “Yeah, I can’t see shit in this eye”.

Steve tries to redirect, focus on something, anything good—

Fireworks flash through the blinds, slip under his heavy curtains, just enough to fling him further into the past.

He looks on as Lucas shoots his Wrist-Rocket all over again with skill and precision, he can feel the fear looming over him, building in his heart watching El, laying defenseless before the Mind Flayer, he can hear Billy shouting as he’s killed, gargling through his own blood choking him, he can see the terror and loss written all over Max’s face as her screams echo in his head.

He’s drowning in the flashbacks, completely unaware of the way his breath quickens and his body tenses, bracing for danger. The ache in his head is splitting through his skull now, enough to bring him to his senses, to the present.

I can’t afford another hospital trip, and no one’s here with me.

Yet Steve shakes, continues to curl up into the fetal position, hoping, wishing, praying, everything stops. He can’t process the sharp sounds and flashing lights without falling into fight or flight mode.

“Stop, stop, stop…”

Shuddering, his body forces him to suck in a deep breath. He inhales the cozy, calming scent of Frankie’s hoodie, and it acts as a roadblock before he can hurtle down a road far too deep into the past. He slides his thumbs into the makeshift holes Frankie likes to add to her sleeves, grabbing onto the edges of the soft, worn-in fabric. He sighs, bottom lip trembling, squeezing the fabric a little tighter. He knows he has to learn to fight through these flashbacks on his own, and he has before, but tonight is rougher than usual while he’s all alone. This is a traumatic anniversary that he’s never been able to face without the others.

Steve considers attempting to run next door for the help of his friends, but immediately shoots the idea down. Don’t ruin their night.

Then, he’s reaching from under his covers for the telephone on the nightstand, about to dial Frankie’s number, but remembers she’s not home.

The thought almost fully crosses his mind to try reaching out to his parents, but he abandons that as quickly as it appears; there’s no way in hell they’d give a shit right now. Or ever.

Trying to keep calm, he inhales slowly, deeply, catching the faint, floral notes from Frankie’s hoodie again; it’s small, but it’s something to keep him grounded for now. He takes a few more deep breaths, wrapping his arms around himself, trying to imagine it’s her holding him. That seems to give a tiny bit of comfort, too. In fact, it’s almost like she’s here with him.

“Stevie?”

Okay, that sounds too real to be part of his grounding thoughts.

“Shh, you’re okay, I got you.”

Steve dares to open his eyes, just barely making out Frankie’s figure under the covers with him. Surprisingly, he’s not even startled, just confused among the panic.

“When did— have you— were you here the whole time?” He loathes the way his voice cracks and fractures, on the verge of more tears.

“Just got here…” Right. She has a key. “… is it okay if I hold you?”

Steve nods frantically, ducking his face into her neck.

“Fuck, m’so glad you’re here.” Then, guilt sets in. “Did you leave early? You didn’t have to— I would’ve been okay—“

Quit lying to yourself. You’re far from okay.

She runs her fingers through his hair with one hand, tracing patterns lightly with the tips of her fingers along his back with the other. He melts into her touch, and while the worry never fully fades, he can feel himself come back to the present as the minutes pass.

“Eh, wasn’t missing much. Would’ve rather spent the night with you.” Unsure if she means it, he still takes the reassurance. “You’re safe, I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you, Steve.”

Fireworks continue, forcing him to freeze up in her embrace, body jolting each time he’s startled by a clap of an explosion.

“We’re safe, you are safe.” Frankie’s promises are so soothing, gentle, even as he’s startled over and over, they feel like a shield protecting him. “You’re safe with me.”

Steve remembers promising Frankie those exact words, high up in the Sears Tower to keep her fear of heights at bay. He meant and still does stand by those words, and he knows Frankie means them, too.

It breaks him, but in a therapeutic, cathartic sort of way. Tears prick at the edges of his eyes, spilling over with ease as he shudders into sobs, gripping tighter onto her.

“I’m so—“

Again, Frankie shushes him gently. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry I didn’t come over sooner.” He wants to protest, wants to remind her she’s got nothing to apologize for, either, but that’s forgotten after she asks, “What do you need? What can I do?”

Steve shakes his head, sniffling, “Nothing, not— there’s really not much but riding it out, usually.” Another succession of crackling explosions round off, and he shoves his palms over his ears. “I wish this shit would go away, ‘Key. Just— I just want it to stop.”

“I brought something that might help a little,” She presses a kiss to his forehead, reluctantly slipping from his grasp. His fingers grip onto her shirt, but she rests her hand softly over his, “It’s okay, I’m not leaving you. Where’s your Walkman?”

“It’s on the d- desk,” He stutters, pushing away the blankets, lips curled downwards. “But my headphones don’t block out the loud noises.”

Frankie moves swiftly, reaching for his cassette player and grabbing something from her bag on the floor, before climbing back into bed with him.

“I know, that’s why I brought these,” She holds up a pair of Koss studio headphones; they’re expensive, and useful to block out surrounding sounds. He recognizes them immediately.

“Are these from the shop?”

With a smirk, she shrugs, “Might be from the listening booth, who knows. Not like anyone’s using them right now.”

“Are you sure? I don’t—“ Another shrill whistle, then a bang, echoes through the neighborhood, and Steve flinches. “You can’t hear it, though.”

“Well, this is why my invention of shared headphones would be useful,” She teases, unwinding the cord to plug into his player. “But until that idea takes off, you need these more right now.”

Steve’s too fatigued, too deep in pain to argue; he takes the headphones, placing them over his ears, instantly soothed by the lack of noise. Frankie flashes a tape between her fingers, waiting for his approval, popping it inside the Walkman after he nods.

Since the night Frankie confessed her feelings for Steve through a mixtape made for him, she’s been making him a variety of tapes— ones for certain moods, ones for music recommendations, and mixes of his favorite songs.

It’s awkward at first, trying to lay back down with the bulky headphones on, so she gently shifts around, sliding behind him to sit up against his headboard. Her legs fall open, giving him space to lay back against her as she cuddles him from behind.

Wrapped up in Frankie’s embrace, Steve finally feels himself relax, even a little bit; he pulls the covers over the two of them, allowing the music from the headphones to softly fill his ears. She keeps her legs positioned around him loosely, but still fencing him off from the world, hoping it brings some comfort.

Though he’s too upset to pay much attention to the songs that play, lost in his thoughts as he tries to stay rooted in reality, he’s grateful he can’t hear the fireworks at all anymore. The louder ones still vibrate through the apartment, rattling his bones, but Frankie keeps him anchored with soothing, tender touches.

And sure, maybe this isn’t exactly the time for a thought like this, but Steve feels so genuinely loved in this moment. Everything is shit, this holiday is hell on earth for him, but he’s not facing it alone. Frankie has managed to find ways to ease his anxious thoughts, enough to survive them.

Steve’s heart is heavy; despite the distance from tonight and July 4th 1985, it feels like it was yesterday. It feels like it’s happening right now.

Since the night he fought the demogorgon off with Nancy and Jonathan, it’s become second nature to put others before himself; never for recognition, but stemming from the endless care and concern after brushing close enough with danger. The trauma of always trying to please his parents probably had something to do with the way he cared for others first, but he can’t unpack that tonight.

Protecting anyone within arms’ reach was Steve’s priority, growing more and more prominent as time passed. The years rolled on, the destruction to Hawkins, everyone’s lives, his mental health— it never stopped.

Trauma can’t shake you if you care for others before yourself. At least, that’s what he believed.

When Hawkins was obliterated before his eyes, the blast forced all of that trauma to the forefront of his mind; with no one to take care of before himself, Steve had to rewire the protective mentality for his own safety. All of this time later, after years of therapy, healing with his friends, learning more about himself than he ever had, he finally got a grasp on putting his needs first. He finally had the tools to cope with the emotional wreckage left behind.

Every Fourth of July, though, he can’t do it alone. He can’t figure out exactly why he’s weakest on this date— sure, looking to the past, he was quite honestly to hell and back that night in 1985. It still doesn’t explain to him why this night hits harder alone than any other traumaversary.

Frankie can’t destroy the trauma for him, she can’t take the mental anguish away, nor can she cure the physical agony his past has burdened him with, but she can guide him through the night. She can shield him from the triggers until morning comes. The pain doesn’t instantly vanish come July 5th, but it does taper down, becoming easier to battle and ward off the worst of the panic.

Steve’s friends might’ve helped him on this anniversary in the past, but he’s never had anyone outside of the disaster stick by his side and comfort him until dawn. No one’s ever stayed long enough to even see a glimpse of this side that he attempted to bury. No one’s ever cared for that long. No one’s ever loved him thoroughly like Frankie does.

Though his heart is heavy, burdened with such unthinkable, unfortunate events, he can see the light at the end of the tunnel, so long as he doesn’t float off and away into the deepest corners of his trauma. Tonight, he doesn’t feel so hopeless. Not when he’s safe, and comforted, and loved by Frankie.

The headphones work so well, Steve can’t hear himself when he murmurs, “I love you,” to her. It must be clearly understood, because she wraps herself around him tighter, embrace like a weighted blanket. Secure. Strong.

The night continues with Frankie holding Steve, the fireworks shooting off rapidly, and the tape in his Walkman rolling along.

This year’s anniversary is one he’ll survive.

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The timing of Eddie and Dustin moving to the city couldn’t have been more perfect; Frankie’s been too ill to work as often, and Eddie needed a job, so he takes over most of her shifts. On days Dustin was free, sometimes he’d help out for a few hours, too.

Frankie couldn’t express enough how grateful she was for all three of them helping so much, so aside from obvious paychecks, she made them mixtapes, and bought coffee whenever they’d allow it. That wasn’t often, though, as Steve insisted she should be resting at home; knowing he was right, she reluctantly agreed.

The day’s heatwave lures folks into the record store with a promise of cooling off, keeping the two men busy for most of the day. When the door’s bell chimes, Steve’s gaze flits up to find Frankie, taking a little more care in her steps than usual; though he’s always happy to see her, worry sets in with a concerned frown.

“Honey,” He rounds the counter to meet her by the door. The butterfly-shaped rash along her cheeks is prominent today; Steve knows the heat and humidity irritate her skin even more than usual. “You really need to—“

“Rest, I know, I know,” She agrees, but explains, “I needed to show Dustin and Eddie something, with the… the, uh—“

“Stockroom!” Dustin rushes out; Eddie nods like a bobblehead.

“Oh… you could’ve told me and I would’ve done that for you—“

“Yeah, but you know how it is, sometimes it’s easier to see something explained than it be told to you,” Eddie adds. Steve gives them all a skeptical glance.

Something’s up.

“Okay… well, do you want my help?”

“No!” Frankie cringes at herself; last time she did that was when Steve asked if he could play her mixtape, confessing her feelings immediately after opening it. “Sorry, I— no, it’s okay, someone should probably be up front, anyway.” She presses up on the balls of her feet, kissing his cheek, then turning to head to the stockroom.

As Eddie and Dustin trail behind her, Steve’s brows furrow as his thoughts pester him.

What the hell was that about? It’s not like any of them to hide anything.

Before his anxiety carries him away, he shakes the thoughts from his mind; he trusts all three of them with his life. Whatever’s going on will be okay.

Yet that doesn’t stop the thoughts from creeping back later that night, spiraling him into concern all over again.

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The first real date Steve and Frankie have isn’t what either had pictured, but it’s nothing to complain about.

Ever since the night Steve confided in Frankie about his past and what happened to Hawkins, the little joke about going out for milkshakes, making a passing comment as a date— it only felt right a night out for milkshakes would be the official first date.

Except, neither of them planned for Frankie to get sick. Plans and chronic illness, they’re enemies, through and through. Chronic illnesses, dynamic disabilities, they don’t care what you’re looking forward to.

Though Frankie had been back on an intense medication regimen, it wasn’t enough sometimes. It was only a matter of time before her treatment would have to switch to something more intensive, like infusions; they both knew that, but neither of them wanted to speak it into existence quite yet. Just try to enjoy life together for a little while longer, until most of her time would be stolen away from treatment and recovering from the side effects.

Indirectly, though, Steve always reminded, and encouraged her, to get more help if she needed. He couldn’t drag her to the hospital, couldn’t force her to sit for hours with an IV poked into her body, only to come home feeling worse, until the medication finally ran its course enough to actually help her. Even then, it’d be a few weeks at least until she’d begin to improve.

So, their first date ends up with the two of them at Frankie’s apartment, both in comfy clothes, sipping on massive milkshakes Steve got with takeout food, with old Hollywood movies and TV reruns droning on in the background, enjoying one another’s company.

Now, Frankie convinced Steve they should try painting along to an episode of Bob Ross. It’s a silly disaster, one they both find hilarious; only ten minutes in, they’re both covered in paint in places that are nonsensical.

“Okay, you made that part up!” Frankie points to Steve’s canvas, finger accidentally touching the pine tree he absentmindedly painted bright blue. Her fingerprint etches itself into the wet paint. “Oops.” She wipes her finger off on her shirt. “Where the hell have you seen trees like that?”

“Did I?” He glances down, snorting. “Shit. Guess I did. I think I got the sky and trees confused. But maybe I’m taking an artistic approach! Surprised you’d be so close minded, honey.”

She laughs, turning her attention back to the screen, “You’re sober, right?” She pokes her tongue out of the side of her mouth, eyes flitting between the screen and her canvas, trying to catch up on directions she missed. Steve’s caught off guard, admiring how adorable she is while she’s focused.

“Embarrassingly enough, I am.” He glances back up at the screen, face dropping. “Aw, ‘Key, look what you made me do! I missed the whole fucking lake.”

“So paint it in! Not my fault you’re ogling at me and my goofy, fuzzball head.” She spares a second to stick her tongue out, piercing sparkling in the dim light at her partner, who playfully flips her off in return.

“Yeah, well, you’re missing yours, too.”

As Steve settles down, genuinely trying to paint along, something cold and wet hits his cheek. Paintbrush still in hand, he touches his face, pulling his fingers back to find neon yellow paint dripping down them.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Amato.” He narrows his stare at her, so she pouts.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Frankie leans over with a paint rag, and Steve thinks she’s about to clean it off, but he’s blindsided as a gob of paint hits the clean side of his face. She grins smugly at him, “Now the job’s finished.”

Steve sighs before lunging at her, cautious not to hurt her as he brings her to the floor, paintbrush gripped between his fingers. She wiggles underneath him, trying to escape as she laughs; he wishes he could record her laugh, because it instantly brings a smile to his own face, always, but that’s probably weird.

“We’re missing the show!” She exclaims, arms out, straight and stiff to hold him off; a fit of giggles takes control. Her laugh is contagious, running through Steve, too.

“Honey, I think that’s a lost cause at this point.” He flicks paint onto the tip of her nose, a deep purple shade, so she grabs another paintbrush nearby, retaliating with a few drips of metallic gold on his chin.

It carries on, back and forth with the two of them rolling around on her living room floor, getting paint everywhere— Steve is really glad he convinced her they needed a tarp to cover everything, just in case. There’s more paint on the two of them than on their canvases as Frankie ends up on top, weakly attempting to pin him down. She holds a brush over his head, burnt orange threatening to drip onto his hair.

“Oh, c’mon, not the hair, babe!”

The words barely leave his lips before the paint drops onto his hair, dripping through the strands. He surrenders, dropping his paintbrush and holds his arms over his face.

“Alright, alright! You win!”

Frankie throws her brush aside, leaning down, close to Steve’s face as she pushes his arms out of the way. Bob Ross carries on in the background, nearly finished with the scenic view he was painting.

“It washes out easily, I promise.” She assures him softly with a quick peck on the lips.

“I don’t know, ‘Key, might need your help,” It’s a lighthearted quip, one that he’s not serious about, but he wouldn’t pass up the chance to share a shower with her if she offered.

Frankie’s face falls, and Steve regrets it immediately. He would never pressure her into doing anything she wouldn’t want to, but he wishes she would explain what has her so avoidant of any intimacy beyond kissing. Even that, he won’t pressure her to talk about, because whatever the reason weighs heavy on her mind, and he can tell by the way her mood shifts drastically when it comes up.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t— ah—“ His eyes screw shut, trying to collect his thoughts before he continues. “I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t meant to be serious, b- but I really should’ve kept it to myself.”

Scrambling off of him, Frankie shakes her head. “No, it’s not you. It’s never you, Steve. It’s—“ Her eyes are glassy once they meet Steve’s, and his heart aches. “It’s— I’m fine, and it’s nothing you did or said or any of that. It’s just… it’s really, really hard for me to relax and let anyone get that close.”

He nods, taking in her words. “We don’t ever have to do anything. Like, ever.” He scoots closer, but holds himself back from reaching out to her. “If that’s not your thing, that’s more than okay. I love spending time with you, no matter what we’re doing.”

“Yeah, but I— it’s not like I don’t want to, but I’m not like—“ Stopping herself, she leaves him hanging, wondering what the rest of her thought would be. “I can help wash your hair over the tub, if you want. I’m sorry.”

Steve’s hand loosely slips into hers, giving a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” She squeezes back, giving a hint of a smile, but it fades fast. “How about this— we take turns getting cleaned up, get in comfy, clean clothes, and do whatever you want for the rest of the night.”

Frankie gives a short sigh before nodding, then smirking ever so slightly at him. “But I’m showering first, ‘cause I got way less hair than you.”

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When Steve returns to Frankie’s room, she’s laying on her bed, legs up against the wall as Bruce Springsteen softly floats out of her stereo’s speakers.

“Knew it. You were like, ten minutes longer than I was.”

“Well, not all of us can be bald and cute like you, ‘Key.” He squeezes excess water from his hair with a towel. “Why are you laying like that?” Amused, he’s crossing the room to sit next to her. From where she lays, her smile is upside down to him.

“Helps with shitty blood flow,” She softly replies, humming along to the song for a moment. Steve lays next to her, mimicking her position with his legs against the wall. “See? Kinda feels good, huh?”

“I guess,” He snorts, head turning to kiss her temple. “What album is this from? I don’t think I know this song.”

“It’s a live version of Frankie!” She smirks, holding her finger up to her lips, “But, shhhh, it’s on a bootleg.”

“A bootleg? I’m dating a criminal?” Steve feigns disgust, narrowing his stare. “What else don’t I know about you?”

“When I was a kid, I stole loose coffee beans from the grocery store,” She confesses, sighing. “My dad didn’t know until I pulled them out of my pockets, spilled a ton of ‘em all over the car floor on the way home.”

“Jesus, you need to be locked up for good,” He shakes his head with a smile before the two fall into a comfortable silence, music filling in the gaps between words.

but tonight's no dream, Frankie, I can feel myself too / well now and forever, baby, my love is for you

“Huh, I thought you were just making the name up,” Frankie scoffs at his teasing remark.

“I might be a criminal, Steve Harrington, but I am no liar.”

“A cute criminal, get it right.” Again, she scoffs, this time with an eye roll, but her eyes fall to his lips, lingering for a moment too long. After the conversation they had earlier, Steve thinks nothing of it. “What? Shit, is there toothpaste on—“

Frankie’s swift, rolling on her side to catch his rambling lips in hers. For a moment, he’s frozen, mind trying to catch up as her arms wrap around his shoulders, swinging her leg over his lap.

Reluctantly, Steve breaks the kiss. “Hey, hang on, what’s—“ She begins kissing down his neck, but he gently pushes her back. Hands sliding upward, he cups her face, searching her expression. “Where’s this coming from, honey?”

When she pouts with a huff and no response, he sits up, hold shifting to her back, keeping her upright on his lap.

“Talk to me, ‘Key.”

“I want… I want more, with you.” Her gaze turns glassy as she looks away, but Steve catches her chin softly between his thumb and forefinger, bringing her back to him. “Please?”

Oh, it kills him that he’s ready to say no, and not even for selfish reasons; he wants more than anything to make Frankie feel good, if she wants, but if she’s uncomfortable, it’s not worth putting her through anything.

“We shouldn’t. Not unless you’re absolutely sure.”

“What if we just… take it super slow?”

Steve’s not uncomfortable, but he will be if Frankie is or becomes uncomfortable and won’t tell him. But if she really wants this, who is he to deny his dream girl’s desires?

“You call the shots, alright?”

A ghost of a smile dances on her lips, nodding eagerly before leaning back in. A spark flickers deep inside Steve once her lips are back on his, but he restrains himself to only follow her lead. When her hands begin wandering his body lazily, he mirrors her. Neither hear the cassette tape roll to an end.

Through the kiss, his fingers slide up her thighs, over her sleep shorts; he tugs at the edge of her loose sleep shirt, silently asking for permission to continue. She shakes her head, gently pushing him away. It sends Steve mixed signals; maybe he should’ve stopped this completely.

“Too much?” He searches her expression as she looks away, checking on her. “Hey, look at me,” Steve holds his hand against her cheek, thumb brushing along her cheekbone soothingly. “We can stop.”

“No, I, uh.” She curls into herself, trying to shrink. “You do not want to see all of that.” She gestures to herself, hand waving from her hips and upward, shaking her head. Steve’s lips curl downward.

It hits him; that’s why she’s so hesitant to let anything go beyond kissing.

“All of what? You?” Steve’s taken aback; maybe he mistook the signals for something else. “‘Cause I- I do, Frankie. If you’re comfortable, that is.”

She sighs, annoyed with herself; head lolling back, Steve has to hold himself back from taking the opportunity to kiss her neck. Instead, he keeps to himself.

“I want to be comfortable, but have you seen yourself?” Steve’s puzzled, brows knitted together as he glances down at himself. “You’re… you. No way someone like you would want me. I mean… c’mon, look how fucked up my legs are. You really wanna see the rest of me? You’re gonna take one look at me and get grossed out, it’s happened with everyone else I’ve been with. I just wanna save you the trouble.”

Steve is stunned; people are so fucking cruel when you don’t fit society’s standards.

“Whoa, hang on,” He can’t keep his hands to himself this time, reaching out for her hips to pull her closer again. She blushes wildly, but her arms easily wind around his shoulders, allowing herself to straddle his lap again. “Whoever made you feel this way is wrong. So wrong. Have you seen yourself?”

“Yeah, Steve, I kinda live in this body every day.”

Now it’s his turn to make an annoyed noise, more frustrated than anything; whoever, whatever, has her believing this nonsense is what Steve’s irritated with, not her.

“‘Key, I’m not going anywhere.” His head shakes while his arms wrap around her, hoping the snug hold emphasizes his point. “I love you, for you, and that means all of you.”

“Okay, but I— I’m sure I’m not like the pretty girls you’ve been with before.”

“You’re not,” Steve realizes how the reply comes off, quick to continue before her hopes crash down. “I— it’s not— you’re pretty. Really pretty. But you’re so unique, too; that’s what I love about you. If anything, I can’t believe you love me.”

Frankie blushes, but self-doubt rushes back in.

“There’s a reason I hide under all these big clothes, y’know.” He does know, he knows she’s been struggling with this for a really, really long time. “My weight fluctuates like a fucking yo-yo. I- I mean, there’s all these stretch marks—“

“Normal. Almost everyone’s got stretch marks, or gets ‘em at some point.”

“A- and with this flare up, my skin’s all angry with sores, and mottled—“

“That’s out of your control. Doesn’t take away from how beautiful you are.”

She laughs and rolls her eyes, eyes glistening with tears building; she’s beginning to look away, but her breath hitches when his hand cradles one side of her face gently, pushing her view back to him.

“You’re way too cool for me—“

“Says the dude who was Mr. Popular in high school.”

“Not the same thing at all. I’ve never met anyone like you, ‘Key. You’re so… so unapologetic, and true to yourself, and one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” As Steve goes on, she tilts her head back like moments before, this time, trying to hide the ever-growing blush on her face; and this time, he takes the chance, leaning in to kiss her neck softly. Immediately, she shivers under his touch as he continues between kisses. “You’re so smart—“

When he softly sucks her skin, she squirms in his lap. “Steve…“

“Sharp and clever, even with the damn brain fog—“

Frankie giggles, hand tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling a sweet, gravelly groan from him.

“— so cute, a- and so,” Slowly, he begins to crumble just from her touch. “So fucking pretty—“

“You— you’re pretty too, Steve.”

He chuckles against her neck; the vibrations tickle and earn more giggles from her. “Least I got that goin’ for me, huh?”

“S’much more than that,” She breathes, hand inching higher through the waves of his hair. Her fingertips brush along the spot of that scar she discovered before, careful not to be too rough this time as she tugs his strands loosely. This time, Steve moans just as he reaches her ear, softly nipping at the lobe before moving to her jaw. “Y’wanna talk about kind people? Never met anyone with a heart as big as yours— oh—“

His hands begin wandering under her shirt, slowly creeping up from her thighs to her hips.

“You’re s- so— god, m’sorry, there’s no sexy way to say ‘oh hey, your attention to detail is insane’ but—“

Steve laughs, pausing his trail of kisses along her jaw before snorting. “No, no, keep talkin’ like that, it’s really hot, Frankie.”

“Smart-ass.”

“Your favorite?”

“Hm… I guess,” She teases, pulling back to look at him, trying to stave off the weakness his touch brings when it continues sliding further up. “I mean it, Steve. You beat yourself up a lot for not being ‘booksmart’ but I’ve never met anyone who thinks the way you do, sees the world the way you do—“

“I might be a smart-ass,” He deflects, trying not to get emotional over her praise and reassurance. “But you are definitely a kiss-ass.”

“All this talk about ass and yet— ?”

“And my mind’s in the gutter? Get real, ‘Key.”

Frankie’s hand slides out of his hair, slowly down the side of his face, tracing along his jawline. She brings a thumb up to his lips, slipping into reverie momentarily as she traces the bottom lip. Steve locks eyes with her, ghosting a kiss to the pad of her thumb. His hands reach the top of her ribs, waiting for permission to continue.

With lust-heavy lids and a soft gasp as his tongue rolls against her thumb, she casts her worries aside as she commands, “Touch me, Steve.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Surging forward, her hand falls away from his lips before his kisses line her jaw. Hands molding to her chest, he squeezes the plush curves, fingers grazing her nipples.

“Do you— is that— where’s the other—“

She giggles, head falling into his shoulder while his touch his still on her; his fingers slow, but never stop teasing. “Okay, so, I was gonna get them both pierced— Steve!” He tugs at the small, steel barbell jewelry in one nipple, smirking at her reaction. His thumbs slowly circle her hardened peaks, pulling a soft gasp out of her.

Smugly, he lightly flicks the sensitive nubs and softly orders “No, go ahead, finish your story.”

“I- I—“ Another gasp, but this one is sharper. “I chickened out, the first one hurt so much—“ A whimper tumbles from Frankie’s lips as she arches her back, pressing closely into him. “St- Steve…” Her tone is almost in warning, but it comes out so breathily, so dreamy, he doesn’t catch on immediately.

Teasingly, he asks, “You always this sensitive?” She hesitates, but gives a faint nod.

“Too sensitive sometimes… like right n- now,” Her vague confession slips out as a whine, while her thighs twitch around him, longing to close for some kind of relieving friction. Steve freezes as he connects the dots.

“… Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“No!”

Steve smirks, softly pushing her off his shoulder. “You’re totally saying what I think you’re saying.”

“I am not!”

“You don’t even know if what I’m thinking is the same thing.”

“Well— it’s just— I’m—“ His fingers begin working again, and any chance of avoiding the subject falls away as she moans, so soft and sweet.

“It’s just what?”

“Steve… I don’t—“ Her breath falls shallow as he’s continues toying with her. She grabs onto his shirt, tensing up as her eyes flutter shut. “Okay— alright, fine! Don’t laugh at me, okay?”

Slowing his ministrations, he replies sincerely, “Wouldn’t dare, honey.”

“I- I— Icangetoffjustfromthis.” She’s quick to confess, a little too quick; Steve thinks he heard her correctly, but his amusement grows as she becomes riled up.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

She huffs, face bright red now. “I can— this alone can m- make me come.” As she speaks, he tugs tightly on the sensitive nubs, eliciting a louder moan. Her eyes narrow towards him. “A- alright? There, I said it.”

“Well, you kinda moaned it, but—“

“Shut up, Steve.”

He’s tempted to give the good ol’ “Make me,” but resists giving in to the corny response.

One of Steve’s hands leave her to reach the hem of her shirt again, but she grabs his wrist, stopping him before he can start.

“I meant it when I said you’re beautiful,” He reiterates, giving a soft, quick kiss to her lips. His other hand falls from her chest, but rests on her hip, “We can st—“

She whines, “Don’t wanna stop.”

“Then y’gotta tell me what you need, ‘Key,” He’s not chastising her, he’s trying to gently guide her into speaking up for herself. “M’not gonna continue ‘til you tell me, ‘cause I want you to be completely comfortable with whatever we do. Or don’t do.”

Frankie nods, fingers reaching out for the edge of his shirt, tugging softly. “I wanna— I just—“

“Go ‘head, honey,” He encourages, nodding as he looks at her hands in his lap, a little too close to the bulge hardening under his boxer briefs. “M’not perfect, either.”

She pushes it over his torso, slow and tender as her hands slide along his skin. Sure enough, Steve’s scars from over the years are exposed, including the largest ones across his stomach; she pulls the fabric over his head and arms, noticing the scar rung around his neck.

There’s no signs of disgust or regret on Frankie’s face, but her features soften, simultaneously pained, too.

“The Upside Down really did a number on you, huh?” She mutters sympathetically with the slightest pout; she reaches out to touch one of his scars, but pauses. “Sorry—“

Unbothered, Steve shakes his head. “It’s okay. You can touch them.”

Her gaze flickers up to his, watching him nod in approval once again. She traces a finger softly along one, then another, eventually outlining them all tenderly until she arrives at the one around his neck. He shivers, goosebumps washing over his skin; she hesitates until he murmurs, “S’okay, promise. No one’s— haven’t had anyone do this, ever.” The scar hangs like a permanent necklace; there was a point in time where Steve felt it resembled a noose more than anything. Now, it’s a souvenir, a memento of terror and resilience.

It’s the only scar she’s had a quick, yet clear glimpse at, after Steve’s migraine attack, in the hospital.

So, Frankie reminds him again, “I’m really glad you survived… really happy to be alive at the same time as you, Steve.” Her pout grows as she blinks away the glassy appearance of her eyes. “I feel so foolish crying over my problems when you’ve literally been to hell and back.”

Steve shakes his head, swiping away a tear rolling down her face. “Can’t compare your hell to mine. Yours never ends, and you have every right to be upset over it.”

“Yeah, but, your trauma is—“ She refrains from saying it’ll never end, because that feels like disregarding any hope he might have left. “It’s not over, Steve. It’s still a— fuck, I don’t know how to word this, I’m sorry—“

“Frankie.” The way he says her name in a soothing half-whisper grabs her attention every time. “It’s real, and I probably have to deal with this shit for the rest of my life, but you don’t get to water your pain down ‘cause of me and mine. Got it?”

She tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, agreeing, “Got it.”

Frankie pulls her hand away from his scar, with both hands finding their way to hold his face; she’s crashing her lips against his, coalescing as they lose themselves in one another.

Steve’s grip grows a little firmer, causing Frankie to wrap her legs around him completely; she can feel him hardening underneath her as they kiss. A spark catches fire low in her stomach, turning her demeanor from soft to an explorative, eager one.

Grabbing his hands, she rests them at the hem of her shirt, nodding with urgency before Steve can even ask if she’s sure. He takes his time, the way she did with him; Frankie whines impatiently until Steve shushes her with his lips back on hers. It’s over as soon as it began, breaking the kiss to find her bottom lip curling down.

“No way in hell I’m rushing this, ‘Key,” He pulls away, ignoring her needy pout as he’s tugging her shirt over her completely, tossing it to the floor. Insecurity kicks in, and she’s covering herself as best as she can, arms crossed over her body awkwardly. “If you really want this, let me make you feel good. If not, we can stop now, no hard feelings, but you have to be honest with me.”

“I want this, I want—“ She closes her eyes with a deep breath, face flushing red underneath the faint, rosy butterfly rash across her face; her arms fall to her sides, sighing to calm herself down as she’s exposed. Her eyes open, meeting his, “I want you, Steve. I mean it. Just… be patient with me, please.”

Steve can’t help letting his stare fall to her exposed figure, drinking in the tattoos, stretch marks, orange peel textures and mottled skin; he knows how terrifying it can be to expose yourself to someone for the first time, and how challenging it can be to love yourself when your body works against you. He might not know it on the same level Frankie does, but he’s no stranger to how nerve wracking it is to be so vulnerable.

He’s fixated on the tattoo on her collarbone the most. It’s one of many he’s never seen before; she’s only ever shown the ones on her arms. He traces along the scar the tattoo is intertwined with, like she did with his scars.

It’s a needle and thread, designed to appear as if it’s stitching up her scar.

“What’s this from?”

“I- uh— I used to get infusion therapy through a port, before all this shit went into remission.” Her voice wavers a bit, referring to her lupus. “It was a silly present to myself for finishing treatment, but… God, I don’t wanna go through all of that again.” She tries laughing it off, but her bottom lip trembles.

Steve cradles the side of her face with his hand, thumb gently sweeping back and forth along her cheek; she’s always felt safe and comforted under his touch, with how large and warm his hands are compared to her tiny, cold ones.

“If you want, I’ll be with you, every step of the way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I… I’d like that.” She nods, sniffling. “This shit’s been easier with you around, honestly.” A weak smile breaks through the worry written all over her face.

“I might not be able to fix it,” He murmurs, kissing under her jaw, moving slowly down her neck. Frankie gasps— that sound is going to drive Steve crazy— hips rolling into his, only once, to test the waters. “But I can help take your mind off of things, at least for a little while.”

“Uh-huh… y’know I c- can do that for you too, if you wanted.”

“Yeah? You’d do that for me?”

“Mhm…” Steve’s hands on her hips dissolves her response into a moan; he wants her closer, pushing her down into his lap, grip firm with need. “I’d do anything for y- ohmygod—”

Reversing, his lips trail up along her neck, growing impatient to meet her stare. He skips kissing her jaw, jumps past dragging his lips along her cheek to her own, searching her expression instead as the two catch their breath.

“Was it something I said?” Frankie pulls her hands back in front of her, reaching to fidget with her old braid out of habit, only to catch herself in embarrassment. “I keep forgetting it’s— never mind. What’s wrong, Steve?”

“Not a damn thing. I’d do anything for you, too.” He catches a glimpse of the two of them reflecting in her mirror across from her bed, with an idea easily unfolding. “In fact…”

Steve spreads his legs, gently twisting Frankie towards the mirror, adjusting so her back is against his chest. She hums when the two make contact, peeking over her shoulder.

“You’re so warm,” She murmurs, finding comfort in the warmth he radiates and the tickle of his chest hair against her back.

“Christ, yeah, you’re fucking freezing,” He softly laughs with a shiver, large hands splaying out against the tops of her thighs. As he slides them downward, he nudges her legs apart; she tenses, at first, but with a deep breath she relaxes under his touch. “If you want me to stop, or you don’t like something, I need you to be honest with me.”

A breathy laugh slips out, “You got it, Mr. Consent.”

Steve ducks his head into her shoulder with a groan and a snort, “Wow, ‘Key, your dirty talk is scandalous.”

“Yeah?” She’s giggling, head lolling back against him. “What can I say? I’m a natural—“

Frankie gasps, caught off guard by Steve’s fingers tugging at the hem of her shorts, waiting for her approval.

“Still okay?” The way his voice rasps and reverberates against her earns him a whimper and a frantic nod. “You sure?”

“Steve, just—“ She reaches down to take over, but he pushes her hands aside.

“If you want this, I need you to be patient and relax.” He reaches for the edges of her shorts again, pushing them down her legs at a painstakingly slow pace. Her hips flex up against thin air with a whine. “M’gonna take real good care of you, ‘Key. Trust me.”

Steve watches Frankie in the mirror tuck her bottom lip between her teeth with a nod.

“I t- trust y— oh, fuck…” The cool air against the wet patch on her panties makes her shiver. Her shorts end up past her knees; good enough, Steve thinks. His hands slide back to her inner thighs, close but not enough to her heat. Again, her bottom half rolls forward, trying to reach his hands for relief.

“How sensitive are you?” His question makes her shudder and squirm, breath tickling the shell of her ear.

“E- enough…”

Taking in Frankie’s entire figure, nearly nude, Steve’s breath catches in his throat; the city lights tumbling through the windows illuminate the room enough to give a clear view of her entirely.

“Is— it’s bad, isn’t it? I told you—“

Steve lightly clasps a hand over her mouth, eyes meeting hers in the reflection.

“Is what bad? The fact that my girlfriend is so stunning I forget how to breathe? Uh, yeah, kinda is, ‘Key.”

That brings Frankie to a fit of giggles, shoving his hand away, “You’re so fucking cheesy!”

“Must be all that pizza cheese I burn my mouth on every Friday.”

She rolls her eyes, but they roll back into her head as his finger ghosts along her slit over the fabric between her legs. She shudders and squirms, but the touch ends in a flash.

“Stop teasing,” She whines, leaning further back; her backside presses against his hard, still-clothed length, earning a gravelly noise of desire from Steve.

A faint shushing sound slips from him, calming her nerves as he kisses the top of her head. His hand trails away from her core, and there’s no time to protest when he begins exploring her body elsewhere. His touch is gentle, but firm; caring and careful, yet reassuring her he’s not going anywhere.

Gaze flitting between Steve’s own hands and the mirror, mesmerized by Frankie’s reactions, he ducks his face down to her neck, leaving light, open-mouthed kisses along her skin. Gasping, her eyes flutter shut; he stops, nuzzling near her ear to whisper, “Keep those eyes open for me, pretty girl.”

Opening her eyes, Frankie watches the way Steve slides his leg under one of hers, lazily kicking her shorts off completely.

“That was smooth— oh!” With a yelp, she feels Steve’s fingers cup her breasts, caressing the curves as his fingers graze along her nipples. Immediately, her eyes roll back, arching into her touch. While she’s distracted, he loosely hooks his legs over her own, spreading them apart even further and holding them in place.

“This doesn’t hurt, does it?” He checks in, and she shakes her head. “You sure?”

“Promise I’ll tell you if a- anything hurts—“ She takes a sharp gasp as he continues toying with the sensitive buds. Her breaths grow shallow, head lolling back onto him, hands reaching out for something, anything; she grips onto his thighs, fingers digging into muscle.

“Can you handle getting off more than once?”

“Wh- what?” Frankie’s head snaps up, eyes locking with Steve’s in the mirror. “I mean, kinda, but not— I can’t— not consecutively—“

“S’okay, we’re taking our time, remember?” His lips are back on her neck, gingerly sucking on a sweet spot as his fingers continue to tease the pebbled skin, tracing soft circles, flicking and pinching. Frankie’s trembling against him, hips rolling into thin air, desperate for friction. Steve wants to see her finish from this, though, just once.

“‘Cept m’not gonna l- last long…” She barely manages to squeak out, jaw falling slack.

He can’t look away as she comes undone just from his teasing touch; her lids hang heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly while he plays with her. He’s in awe of how beautiful she is, no matter what, but even right now, as a squirming mess, she’s stunning.

“Not sure how you’ll last at all if I even touch your—“

Frankie gives out a high pitched, drawn out whine, trembling against Steve as a wave of pleasure tumbles over her without warning. It’s quick, definitely nothing like a full-bodied orgasm he’s brought partners to in the past, but she wasn’t kidding with her warning of sensitivity.

“Holy shit…”

She meets his gaze in the mirror, blushing deeply. “Shut up.”

“No—“

“Steve—“

“I’ve never seen that happen in real life,” He breathes in awe, stare wandering down her body as she pants, settling down from the high.

“You’re such a dork.”

Steve can’t answer, he’s mesmerized by the wet patch on her panties spreading further out.

“Christ, you weren’t kidding…”

Frankie doesn’t have a chance to retort, not when his hand slips past her waistband, finger sliding between her folds. Overstimulated already, she jolts with a gasp, only pushing herself into his palm. Steve pauses as she whines loudly, the noise toeing the line between pained and aroused.

His tone is soft, “You feeling okay?”

Her eyes flutter shut as her hips wiggle, trying to reach for further pressure where she needs it most. With his free hand, he’s careful to caress down her belly lightly, avoiding any raw patches of skin from this flare up.

“Uh-huh,” She huffs out, tilting her head back to glance up at him.

Her eyes nearly cross— a cute detail Steve noticed once before, when she held the clippers up close to her face before shaving her head. It’s a strange angle, but reminiscent of the look she gave the day at the Sears Tower observation deck— also cute.

Cute, cute, cute.

But Frankie’s so much more than that, and Steve remembers why he positioned the two of them in front of the mirror, attention back on her pleasure.

“If anything hurts—“

“Stevie, m’not fragile,” Frankie twitches with a gasp when his finger softly runs over her clit. “I’ll tell you if anything hurts, I swear, but don’t be afraid to touch me. Okay?”

Nodding, Steve glides his middle finger up and down her heat, arousal making it easy to slip inside. Her walls grip him tightly, whimpering as he begins to pump in and out of her slowly. She looks back up at him, but he shakes his head, free hand under her chin, gently guiding her face towards the mirror.

“I want you to watch yourself.”

Frankie looks puzzled, with a hint of disgust towards herself.

“Wh- why?” It’s hard to ask even a single word when he’s curling his finger inside her, reaching her sweet spot. Her hands grasp onto his arm, not trying to stop his actions, but to hold onto something to keep steady.

“‘Cause I want you to see what I see,” His response is genuine, loving, raising goosebumps along her skin. “How beautiful you are.”

She scoffs, eyes darting away from the reflection, “I- I’m— Steve, you don’t have to—“ Her eyes flutter shut as the bliss continues; it’s incredibly hard to have a conversation right now. Especially about self-esteem issues.

Steve’s hand retreats slowly, bringing Frankie out of the daze she was falling into. She grabs his wrist, keeping the pad of his finger just at her entrance.

“Steeeeve, why’d you stop?” She’s too needy to be upset.

“Look.”

Stubborn, she refuses to bring her gaze back to the mirror.

“Francesca.” The tender demand in his gravelly voice makes her head spin, stare falling on his again in the glass. “‘Atta girl.”

Frankie grumbles, rolling her eyes, but quick to bring them back to their reflection.

“I told you what that does to me.”

“Yeah, and it worked, huh?”

“If— god— if I could turn around right now to kiss that dumb, smug grin off your face, I would.”

“But you can’t, so…” Steve kisses the back of her head, leading more down to her neck again. “Might be better to listen to me instead, yeah?”

She attempts to laugh, but it comes out as a strangled, airy gasp. “So you— ah—“ His touch feathers over her clit. “— you’re one o- of those ‘bossy in bed’ types?”

“Only when my partner’s a stubborn little smartass,” Steve plunges his finger back into her, knocking her jaw to the floor in a silent cry. Her eyes scrunch shut. “Eyes open, sweetheart,” He orders, and she complies. “That’s my girl.”

Steve feels her flutter around him, humming in satisfaction while she fights to keep her stare on the reflection.

“Y’like when I call you that? My girl?” Frankie nods wordlessly, but that’s not enough for him. “Don’t be shy, ‘Key. Wanna know what’s goin’ on up in that pretty head of yours.”

She mewls, grinding against him. “More, god, please, more…”

“Can’t say no when y’sound so sweet like that.”

Delicately, Steve slides a second finger inside, stretching her walls out; she tenses up, trying not to allow the pleasure to consume her quite yet.

“I feel sorry for whoever made you feel anything less than beautiful,” He whispers, nudging his nose against her temple before bringing his lips up to the same spot. “Their loss for missing out on an angel like you.”

Though Frankie blushes wildly, she tries playing it off, “Ass-kisser.”

Wiggling his brows, he jokes, “Not yet, but I will be—“

She giggles at the silly comment between sweet, airy moans; her happiness is contagious, drawing a grin along Steve’s face, too.

“I love how your nose does the— that thing when you laugh.” He’s so enamored with every detail of her. “When you scrunch it, s’cute.”

Frankie shields her face quickly with her hands, trying not to squirm and tremble as Steve continues pumping his fingers in and out of her. With his free hand, he pushes her hands away, shaking his head.

“Don’t ever feel like y’gotta hide from me, honey.” His finger curls, brushing against that sweet spot again; she finds a new use for her hands, gripping into the sheets below them. “Y’know what else I love?”

Shaking her head, she shudders as his large palm pushes closer to her core, giving her something firm to grind against. His other hand roams her body again, so cautious in where his touch falls, avoiding any rough, sore patches and bruised skin like landmines.

Her arm winds up to his shoulder, hooking to the back of his neck, anchoring herself to him as the heat inside her builds.

“Your freckles,” He watches her in awe as her back arches, fingers grazing one of her hardened peaks, the one she managed to get pierced. He flicks at the jewelry softly, continuing, “all your scars, and stretch marks.”

“Th- that’s— you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

Steve’s touch traces along a large stretch mark down her soft stomach, jagged and lighter in tone against her tan skin.

“I’d never lie about that, never lie to you ‘bout anything, ‘Key.” He traces another as her hips stutter against the hand still guiding her closer to bliss. Her skin prickles, hair standing on end. “Every inch of you, every part of you, I love it all. I love all of you.”

“But… this— hngh—“ Frankie’s twitching into his palm, whispering sweet curses under her breath, at the crossroads of hushed and rushed. “M’not— you see what I see, ri- right?”

Steve maneuvers his hand to lightly pressure against her clit with his thumb, rubbing it with delicate care; his other hand splays against her hip, gripping just firm enough to hold her in place as her hips flex in retaliation.

“I see… the coolest woman I’ve ever been lucky to know,” He swings one leg around one of hers, keeping her anchored on the bed. “I see someone who’s a fighter, even when she doesn’t want to be,” His other leg mimics the one prior, keeping her close against him as she moans. “I see the sweetest angel, with a smile warmer than the sun.”

“Steve…”

His lips are back on her neck, softly sucking in the crook of it; he continues to murmur kind, gentle truths against her skin between kisses. “I see someone unapologetic, who encourages me to be the same, even if I’m still learning. That someone who showed me I’m not broken, or useless.”

“Shit, are you trying to make me cum, or cry?” Her attempt to tease him fails, choked off by a whimper that warbles into a whine. “Fu— fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“That same someone needs to know they’re not broken or useless, either.” He’s captivated by the way she unravels at the seams, trembling against him as tears prick the corners of her eyes. “So no, I don’t see what you see, ‘cause what you see is a version of yourself that doesn’t exist. The real you is beautiful, from the inside out, every inch included.”

“Y- you’re being way too fucking nice, Steve.”

“And I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it.” He can’t stop his reaction to her own, languidly rolling his own hips against her, breathy, low groan escaping him, directly into her ear. “‘Cause it’s not me being nice, it’s just the truth, and you always deserve that.”

It’s the last thing either of them expect to be Frankie’s breaking point, but she’s right on the edge, ready to completely fall apart.

“Oh… oh, I- I think I’m—“

“I’ve got you, ‘Key. Let go for me,” He assures, coaxing her into bliss, and she doesn’t need any further convincing.

Fluttering and narrowing around Steve’s fingers, he helps Frankie ride out her high, eyes darting from the scene directly in front of him and to the mirror, entranced by both perspectives of her climax. Jaw dropping to release her loudest moan yet, she slumps against him. Panting, she whimpers and jolts as aftershocks set in, with his hand settling down.

Soft kisses are showered upon her wherever his lips can touch, with short, sweet praises murmured in her ear.

“I love you,” Frankie rasps out, spent but wriggling to escape Steve’s grasp; it takes him a second to realize, moving his legs off of her own. She turns to face him, breathless while she cups his face, in a giddy daze. “I really, really do. A- and I—“ Pausing, she tries to settle her heavy breaths, clumsily wrapping her legs around him, back on his lap again.

“Hey, hey, give yourself a second to breathe. Last thing you need is to pass out right now.” He mirrors her, holding her face in his own hands; hers slip down and around his shoulders, nodding in a frenzy. Smirking slightly, he jokes, “‘Cause you do not need a hospital trip I’d have to awkwardly explain to your dad.”

Frankie snorts, eyes crinkling mostly shut and her nose scrunches up as she grins, just like Steve admires.

“M’good, I promise,” Her grin falters a little, gaze lost in his own as his smile settles, too. Voice growing small, she asks shyly, “Did you really mean all of that?”

“Of course I do. I know you don’t believe me—“

“I don’t… but I’m gonna try.” She’s sincere in that sentiment, but it would take time, and she knows that. “I said it earlier, but… could you be patient with me? Please?”

Steve nods, kissing her softly. He pulls away just enough, resting his forehead on hers. “Always. But I’m gonna remind you all the time, gonna be the biggest pain in the ass about it, until you see how amazing you really are.”

Frankie turns slightly to kiss his hand, still resting on her face. “Only if you let me do the same for you.”

Blushing, he reels back a bit with a casual shrug, “I- I- I’m okay. Really. I’m— nothing’s wrong.”

“I don’t buy that for a second,” She pushes his hair out of his eyes before staring into them; he’s clueless on just the kindness radiating from the warmth in his gaze alone. She knows there’s so much Steve buries about himself that is good, things and traits and quirks that deserve to be seen, deserve to be acknowledged, deserve to be loved.

“Well, it’s…” Steve can’t finish his thought, because where was it even going to begin with? He’s not even sure what he’s trying to deflect, because she’s always one step ahead of him.

Frankie’s always seen right through him, picked up on his anxieties and fears with ease, has seen firsthand who he truly is, underneath being everyone else’s protector.

“You’ve been so much kinder to yourself since we met, and I’m so proud of you. But there’s always something holding you back, like… like you’re worried to be too much, or not enough.” Her tone is so gentle, soothing, yet strong enough to begin breaking down the last of his barriers.

He doesn’t realize he’s biting emotions back, lower lip curling inward to stave off an inevitable, quivering pout. Not until that fails, and Frankie’s swiping his tears away with her thumbs, touch just as calming as everything else about her presence.

“And maybe y- you don’t believe it or even realize it, but somewhere along the way someone made you feel like you’d never be enough, or you were too much. Like there’s a perfect balance to find, but you can’t quite reach it… but they’re wrong, Steve.” That damn smile that hooked him in on day one appears on her face again, in all it’s warm, glowing glory. “You are enough. To your friends, to me, and to yourself, even if you can’t see it. You are enough.”

Steve Harrington has never heard those three words directed to him before. Not from his parents, or old friends, not even ex-partners. Hell, his friends now do their best to make it known, but even they have never said it to him.

I… I’m enough?

His breath hitches, heart thumping wildly in his chest as he admires Frankie through blurry tears. The near-deafening roar of blood rushing through him fills his ears; maybe he misheard her.

“No one’s ever… I don’t think I…” He shakes his head slowly, realizing he’s never even heard anyone use that kind of phrase ever, even concerning someone else.

When it comes to himself, Steve’s never been able to get the words quite right. It’s as if he can’t express the same love to himself as he expresses to everyone else.

“I don’t think we need to touch one another to show either of us are worth more than we believe,” Frankie leans in, lips ghosting over Steve’s as she nudges her nose softly against his. She whispers, “But I’d like to make you feel as good as you made me feel… if you want.”

“You kidding me?” Steve breathes against her lips, overwhelmed with love. His hands grab her hips, one arm snaking up behind her, resting against the small of her back. “I want you all the time, ‘Key.”

As cliche as it is, each kiss between them feels like the first to Steve. It’s so easy to lose himself in her, so he does the moment their lips meet. A burst of confidence and control runs through Frankie, taking him by surprise.

Swiping her tongue along his bottom lip, it slips in when he gasps into her; he languidly bucks up against her. She whines into him, so he repeats, and her whine flourishes into a sweet moan Steve still finds unreal; he couldn’t conjure up this sound even in his wildest dreams of Frankie.

It takes Steve by surprise when Frankie gives a lazy shove to his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed. He glances up, leaning back on his elbows, admiring the view of his partner. It’s the truth, what he told her earlier, he really does love every single inch of her. Hair or no hair, whether she gains or loses weight, whatever condition her skin’s in, at her best health or worst— Steve adores all of Frankie, and nothing can ever change that.

“Move back for me,” She purrs, smirking as he scrambles underneath her to rest against the pillows. She crawls over him, leaning down above his face. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

Steve’s brows crinkle together, “I- hey, I’m not nervous.” Frankie quirks a brow at him and he rolls his eyes with a huff. Her hand runs through his hair softly, wandering to the crown of his head as he rambles. “Okay, okay, fine, I’m, like, a little nervous. B- but in my defense, you are still way too fucking cool—“

With a firm grasp, she tugs at his hair, eliciting the prettiest moan she’s ever heard out of a man before. His head tilts back into the pillows, into her fingers, lids weighed down with lust as his lips part.

“You keep talking about me like that, it’s gonna get to my head.”

“We- well, good— shit…”

Frankie kisses down his neck, pausing to softly bite a spot that easily makes Steve squirm. His arms wrap around her waist, hands exploring her bare back and hips. When she soothes the ache with an open mouthed kiss, her tongue rolls over the spot, piercing prominent in her movements.

“Oh, fuck, ‘Key,” He’s already growing needy, impatient, groan vibrating in his throat against her lips.

Kisses winding down into something languid, something delicate, she leans back a little, finger tracing along the scar slung around his neck. His breaths slow and calm down, quiet as he watches her.

“Your scars… they’re something I love about you, too, y’know.” She leaves a kiss on part of the scar’s curve, and he shivers underneath her. “I hate what you went through to get them, god, I wish you never went through any of that, Steve.”

More tears slip down his face, so she pulls away some more, hand in his hair sliding back to his face. She kisses away some of the tears, and he huffs out a short laugh, almost in disbelief someone is paying this much attention to him.

Frankie searches his gaze, “You never deserved any of it, despite what you believe. You never, ever, deserved any of that suffering. You’re nowhere near your past self, and even if you were, you’d still deserve better.” Her fingers skate lightly over the scars on his chest and torso, kissing them while traveling down his body. “And maybe it’s cliche, but they’re proof you survived, aren’t they?”

Her lips linger on one last scar, the lowest on his stomach, peeking out from under his waistband; exhaling shakily, he watches her closely.

“And scars or no scars,” She glances up, breath hot and fanning out along his hipbone, he squirms a little. “You’re beautiful too, Steve.”

Out of habit, he rubs his nose, trying to hide his face like she already hasn’t seen him cry tonight, or ever before. When he doesn’t stop, though, her worry grows.

“Hey,” Frankie moves back up his body, gently pushing his hand aside, away from his face. Hand lingering on his cheek, he leans into her touch. He’s crying a lot, and instantly her heart sinks. “Steve, I’m so sorry, did— I’m sorry if I said anything wrong.”

“You— ah, fuck.” Steve rubs his eyes, tries to laugh it off, but one look at Frankie has him choking up. “You did nothing wrong, Frankie.” He reaches up for her face, hand climbing a little higher than usual, thumb sweeping along the edge of her prickly, buzzed head, smiling slightly at the sensation. “I just can’t…. I can’t believe someone actually cares. I don’t think I can wrap m- my head around the fact that you really do love me.”

“F’course I do, Stevie. I really do love you.”

“I’ve been so… scared to let anyone in again, ‘cause anything good that has happened in my life falls to shit at some point. I don’t want that to happen with you, too.” Steve’s face burns, embarrassed with vulnerability, but he can’t stop talking. “Last person who saw this much of me left once they saw my scars. That had to be a year ago, at least… and— well, you know how badly that hurts. And fuck, I wish you didn’t, ‘cause it really feels awful.

“You’re the first person to look at me in a long time like I’m not some burden, or monster, or with a ton of pity. You’re the first person who just… sees me. All of me. And it’s just all hard to believe this is real.”

“Well, it’s easy to see all of you, Steve. You’re more than your exterior. Honestly, it’s hard to miss how big your heart is, and I feel sorry for any loser who refused to see the real you.”

Overwhelmed— Steve’s so overwhelmed, any response dissolves; all that’s on his mind is the adoration for Frankie coursing through his veins. He pulls her down, lips on hers and moving with a fervor unmatched to any other kiss tonight. In surprise, she squeaks against him before falling into the rhythm he creates where the two of them meet.

Frankie slips her leg between Steve’s, adding the slightest yet sweetest amount of pressure against his bulge; he bucks against her thigh, shuddering a needy whine through the kiss. Before he can restrain himself, he’s gripping onto her back a little too tightly; she hisses as he hits a sore spot.

“Shit, I’m sorry, honey.” Steve tries to sit up to check on her, but he’s shoved back down into the pillows, with a sweet little noise of shock puffing out of his lungs.

“This stuff’s bound to happen with us, you know that,” She eases his worry, shrugging off the ache and kissing his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm, just, uh, got a little excited,” He murmurs, embarrassed; that makes her smirk.

Frankie reaches down between their bodies, hand slipping over his clothed member, growing harder by the second— as if he wasn’t hard enough already. Steve bites back a moan, eyes glued to her movements. She squeezes gently, smirk widening as his eyes flutter shut.

“Nuh-uh, Stevie, eyes open.”

When his eyes open, she’s already wandering back down his body, but not without more loving kisses to his scarred skin on the way. Every so often in her lazy, mouthy kisses, he can feel her tongue ring against his skin, making his cock kick in her grasp with anticipation.

Frankie slips her fingers under his waistband, sliding the briefs down at a teasing pace, evoking an incoherent string of whines out of Steve. They’re barely down his thighs before her fingers curl around his shaft.

“Jesus, Steve…” She can’t take her eyes off his size, both in awe and a little nervous. “You— I— uh…”

“Frankie…”

While her name falls from his lips in warning, she interprets that as a sign to continue. She gets as far as reaching his length, barely kissing the tip before he panics.

“Wh- wait, waitwaitwait—“ Softly, he reaches for her face, pausing anything before it begins. As much as it pains Steve to hold Frankie back, mere inches from his tip, he doesn’t want the night to end early on his account. “There’s— I can’t—“ He pants heavily, can’t even bring himself to look at her for fear of ending things way too soon. “N- no way I’ll make it more than a few seconds.”

Frankie’s quiet, so he dares to look, and she shrugs. She fucking shrugs, leaving Steve puzzled.

“And? Did you forget how fast you made me cum earlier?”

“Well, y- yeah, that’s different.”

Quirking a brow in amusement, she slowly begins stroking him, “How?”

Steve jerks into her grip, hands covering his face as he tries settling down. He’s on the edge of losing his damn mind.

“Didn’t you say we should take our time tonight?”

Breaths heavy and hot against his palms, the heat is suffocating, so he throws his hands to his sides again, refusing to look at Frankie.

“I- yeah, but…” Steve swallows audibly, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers bend, curling into her sheets as she continues to stroke him softly. When he whines uncontrollably, he’s mortified by how feverish it sounds.

Building up the courage, he sits up enough to lean on his elbows, scrunching his eyes shut.

His hair flops around as he trips over his words, almost comical if he wasn’t so self conscious. “M- my— Jesus, this is embarrassing— look… my stamina’s not what it used to be. I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

Silence settles between the two of them, save for Steve’s heavy breaths settling down while her hand slows to a stop. Daring to peek at Frankie to gauge her reaction, he finds her offering nothing but empathy in her gaze.

“Steve, there’s no way you’d disappoint me, with anything. Certainly not that. But we can call it a night, if you want.” Her tone is so sincere, he wants to cry, but he can’t go through all of that again.

Her grip falls away, loosely holding onto his hips, instead; her thumbs sweep tenderly along his skin, a wordless reminder she’d rather he was comfortable above anything else. And with the small, yet mighty reassurance, he is comfortable. He’s reminded Frankie isn’t like his past partners; where they’d leave, she continues to love him.

Fuck it.

With a shuddered breath, Steve shakes his head slowly, gulping before he speaks.

“Then I don’t want you to stop.”

Frankie waits a moment, just to make sure he’s comfortable; with a reassuring nod as he chews on his bottom lip, she wraps her hand around him again, using precum weeping from his tip to glide her grip with ease. Steve’s digging his grip back into the sheets, still sitting up and watching with lids resting heavy over his view; usually, he’d play with his partner’s hair, but with Frankie’s buzzcut, he’s unsure what to do with his hands.

“Well, Stevie, lucky for you,” She grins, kissing the base of his length; he twitches in her hold again, whimpering. “My jaw aches really fast. Guess we’re fit for each other, huh?”

Steve’s about to laugh, but it dies in his throat, as a strangled moan replaces it; Frankie softly glides her tongue up the underside of his shaft. As soon as the sensation of her tongue ring hits the prominent vein trailing up to the head, he throws his head back into the pillows, releasing a guttural groan.

“Oh— sweetfuckingjesus—“ She laps at the head, piercing dipping into the slit for less than a second. It takes everything in him to keep his hips against the bed. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god.”

“How long have you been thinking about this?” She asks softly before sucking on the head, ruddy from desire.

“Since th— sh- shit— since— I- I can’t think when you—“

Frankie pops her lips off of him, taunting him in a sweet voice, “Take your time, babe.”

“Since the n- night you showed me th- the piercing,” His face turns red as he gasps within his answer. She’s turning him into a pliant wreck. “So much b- better than I coulda’ dr- dreamed of.”

She barely begins to suck along the underside of his shaft when his shallow breaths pick up, and he’s a babbling disaster. “Honey, baby, I— fuckfuckfuck— m’not gonna— I’m— oh, god—“

Swiftly, Frankie takes all of Steve into her mouth and throat, down to the hilt. Her timing matches his release, large hands softly holding her head as he spills into her mouth, crying a whirlwind out of her name and curses on repeat. He’s losing himself in bliss, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes all over again as pleasure crashes over him.

Pulling off of him, she takes the back of her hand to wipe along her lips, smirking before murmuring, “‘Atta boy,” giggling as she kisses the tip one more time. Her comment makes Steve spiral into shaky laughter as he comes down. “Sorry, couldn’t help my— whoa!”

Clumsily, he pulls Frankie towards him, leaning up at the same time to capture her in a messy kiss. She breaks the kiss, “Wait, I just sw—“

Steve’s breathless, huffing against her lips, “Don’t care,” before crashing his mouth against hers again as she gasps into him. The moment brings some of his confidence back, smoothly rolling over her while he parts her lips, tongue brushing softly against hers. Again, he feels her piercing— that tiny piece of metal really will be the fucking death of him.

Cradling the back of Frankie’s head with one hand, the other slides under her back while he parts her legs with his between them; she arches up, supported by his grasp. She breaks the kiss again, leaving him to frown comically, which she giggles at.

“Where’s this energy coming from? Don’t push yourself.” It’s not patronizing, she truly doesn’t want him to end up hurting more than either of them already will come tomorrow morning.

“Sorry, I just really—“ He kisses her cheek, “Really—“ Then, the tip of her nose. “Really—“ His lips linger on her other cheek, murmuring, “Love you.”

As Frankie replies, “I love you too,” Steve’s already leaving a trail of kisses across her jaw, to a sweet spot right under her ear, down her neck, to her collarbone. All the while, his hand on her back slithered down her tummy, fingers catching on the strappy waistband of her panties.

“You’re still wearing these?” She can feel him frown against her skin. “That can’t feel comfortable, huh, honey?” Peeling the sticky fabric down her legs, she shakes her head a little. “Didn’t think so. M’sorry, should’ve done this sooner.”

The cool air on her newly exposed skin makes her shiver, while he continues exploring down her body with his lips. He pauses at her hardened peaks, tip of his tongue darting out once before looking up her way. She’s biting her lip, involuntarily grinding down on his thigh. He gives a series of kisses, flitting his tongue, softly sucking on the sensitive nubs before she’s a squirming mess underneath him. As much as he’d love to do this, tease and make her climax again just from this, he gives one more lap of his tongue against the side that’s pierced, trailing down her torso once more.

“H- hey, Steve?”

Frankie sits up, almost mirroring Steve as he was minutes ago in the same spot, in a daze as she stares down at him. He’s sliding onto his stomach, arms hooking around her thighs, glancing back at her with a lazy grin on his face.

“Yeah, ‘Key?”

“Gonna be totally real with you… not assuming anything either, but, like, if you wanted to, y’know… I think I’d only be able to handle that, or what you’re about to do now.”

Steve thinks it’s funny, and kind of cute, when she becomes shy about these things; as if she wasn’t being such a tease when their places were swapped. So, what does he do?

He shrugs, just like she had done earlier in his position.

“It’s up to you, I’m happy with either, or neither, as long as you’re happy.” Not an ounce of disappointment crosses his features; she sighs, relieved, but her brows knit together while conflicted, too.

“… I really want you.” She holds her hands out towards him, wiggling her fingers lazily, antsy to hold him again.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” She breathes, fingers running through his hair softly. “C’mere.”

Steve nods, lip tucked between his teeth before his eyes fall to her core. He can’t look away from the glistening between her legs, dripping down the soft tufts of curls, how it’s all so pretty and tempting.

“Okay, just give me a minute.”

She giggles, confused. “What for?”

Verbally, there’s no answer, but he hopes the gentle kiss he leaves on her core gives her an idea. Tongue soft and supple, he slowly laps upward, chuckling as she squeaks, dissolving into a whine. Her hips jolt towards his face, and he takes that as a sign to delve into her folds.

“Shit…” She breathes, fingers back in his hair, pulling him closer. “M’god…”

Suckling on her clit delicately, Steve smirks into her, watching how her back arches off the bed.

“Couldn’t help it, you smell so good,” He murmurs, giving slow, sloppy, open mouthed kisses to her heat. “Taste even better.”

“Steve!” She gasps, giggling into a breathy moan. “Got quite a mouth on you.”

He pulls back, licking his lips and smirking up at her, “No, m’pretty sure it’s on you right now.”

Again, she gasps, as if this is the most scandalous thing anyone’s ever said to her.

Steve’s tongue is on Frankie again, making her squirm and tug on his hair. It’s a weak grip, but just enough to elicit a groan out of him that vibrates against her.

“Feels so… so good, but…” She fights losing herself in pleasure, growing weaker by each swipe of his tongue and pucker of his lips. “You’re gonna— I—“ With all her strength, she tugs Steve off of her by the fingers tangled in his hair. Both of them groan at the loss of one another at the same time.

“I swear to god, Steve,” She catches her breath, eyes flickering to his lips and the way they shine with her arousal. “Whenever you want. Seriously. Whenever. I will never, ever complain about this ever again, ‘cause I’ve never met a guy who gets that into it, and— anyway— I need you up here right now. Please?”

Licking his lips once more, he nods, feverishly making his way back to her and into another kiss, tasting herself on his lips.

Panting, Steve nods frantically, “You got, uh, do you have—“

“If you’re asking about protection, it’s in the drawer,” She nods towards the nightstand. “But I um, I can’t… I can’t get pregnant. If that’s what you’re worried about, I mean.”

This isn’t the time or place, but Steve feels his heart deflate. He never knew. It’s not a deal breaker, nor is a bridge they’re even close to crossing, he just feels bad that he never knew.

“I’m sorry—“

“We can talk about it another time, okay?” She rests her hand on his face, any hint of sadness invisible to the naked eye; Steve shakes it off and nods.

“Right. Yeah.” He gives a small smile, kissing her forehead quickly, whispering, “I’m comfortable with it if you are.”

Nudging his nose against hers as she nods, they bump noses a little too roughly, leaving them both with a dull ache and groans. “Okay, we gotta stop doing that.”

Smirking, Frankie pulls him down into a rushed kiss, gasping into him as he lazily ruts along her folds, sliding against her clit. She murmurs sweet, needy pleas under her breath as Steve pulls away, watching the space where their bodies meet; she spreads her legs wider for him, whimpering as the head catches on her entrance, finally pushing in.

“Jesus Christ… You’re so…” Steve can’t finish the thought, eyes rolling back in his head as he cautiously sinks further into her. Already, Frankie’s walls are fluttering around him; she feels tighter than she did earlier, and he’s not sure if he can handle it for very long.

Short, shallow breaths fall away from Frankie, urging Steve to pry his eyes back open. He holds the side of her face, eyes searching hers for any sign of distress or pain.

“You doing okay?” When he asks, she only nods, holding her breath. “Honey, it’s okay if you can’t— if we need to stop—“

“No, k- keep going, just gotta— mnph— g- gotta get used to it…”

Steve sinks into her slowly, painfully slow, but Frankie’s comfort during all of this is his priority. Once he bottoms out, her jaw drops, breath hitching in the back of her throat.

“Sweetheart, y’gotta breathe.”

“Kinda hard when— when—“ Her eyes squeeze shut, tensing up, fighting off an impending orgasm.

“If it helps I’m having a really hard time trying not to finish right now too.” When Frankie laughs, his eyes go wide. “Okay, no, stop laughing, that’s not helping at all.”

“Sorry, sorry!” She rolls her hips up into his, and he shudders, eyes rolling back. “S’that better?”

“You think we can last a minute?” Steve jokes, gently beginning to thrust into her. Each time he’s in completely, her walls flutter around him. “Jesus… you’re so perfect, honey.”

Frankie can’t help but snort and roll her eyes, but when Steve slips his hand into hers, lacing their fingers together as their eyes lock, her heart’s ready to burst at the seams.

“I love you, y’know that?” She breathes, kissing him quickly. Her free hand cards through his hair, pushing stray strands out of his view, while crossing her legs behind his back, canting her hips for a sweeter angle.

Usually, Steve’s been the one to whisper sweet, heartfelt words to his partner while on top, but Frankie takes his breath away, beating him to the punch.

“You’re so brave, and smart, and handsome…” Her tone shakes, but softly, she smiles up at him. “I love everything about you, Steve.”

“I- I- I—“

“S’okay, it’s hard to think when you’re this deep in me, huh?”

“Shit, ‘Key…”

She squeezes his hand, little huffs and moans fan out onto his lips from her own. The two of them will ache intensely tomorrow, and probably the rest of the week, but this is worth it. Being together, this close with so much love, it’s absolutely worth it.

Reaching between them, Frankie’s about to touch herself, but Steve pushes her hand aside, doing the work for her. He rests his forehead on hers, grunting between her breathy moans.

“Told you… I’m gonna take care of you, honey.” His thrusts become sloppy, voice wavering, “I got you. Always will.”

It’s a crescendo neither wanted so soon, but it’s shared with unconditional love between them both, rushing out sweet, whiny promises and holding each other in a death grip. Shaking, stray tears, moans and whimpers as they reach mutual bliss, just to float back down together, Steve’s hand is still laced within Frankie’s.

The room is filled with a heavy, lingering heat, the smell of sex, and their winded breaths, falling in and out of time with one another. It’s like this for a few minutes, with neither making an effort to move right away.

“Y’know how some people like cigarettes after sex?”

Steve’s not expecting that to be the silence breaker, snorting. “Yeah?”

“… Would you judge me if I said I wanted a popsicle right now? Maybe two?”

“Only if you don’t share.”

“Great! Get off of me, we got a date with the freezer.”

The two, as usual, are in a fit of giggles, while Steve carefully pulls out of Frankie. He watches the mess leak from between her legs, biting back a groan, until she playfully slaps his arm.

“Let’s go, ya’ perv.” He glares, flipping her off, still helping her off the bed and onto wobbly legs. When he’s about to hand her shirt from off the floor, she shakes her head. “Nah. Now that you know what I look like, m’gonna make an effort to be more comfy in my skin.”

Steve kisses the top of her head, following her out of the room. “Atta girl. C’mon, let’s clean up before double fisting some popsicles.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

For the first time, in a long time, Steve feels a certain kind of security and calm wash over him, something he hadn’t felt since leaving Hawkins.

Days after their official date together, Frankie insists on coming into work with Steve, braving through the pain of her flare up.

“Hey, you’re not staying for more than a few hours. I’m not letting you push yourself.” His hand laced in hers, while her other hand uses the cane, they walk down the street to the shop on a comfortable summer morning.

“Fine, fine, fun sucker.” Frankie grumbles, unlocking the door. She looks over her shoulder with a glint in her eye, “You might change your mind in a second, though.”

Puzzled, a lopsided smile appears as he asks, “What’s that supposed to—“

Frankie flips the lights on, and a shared chorus of, “Surprise!” grabs Steve’s attention. He jumps a little, but when familiar faces come into view, any startled feeling vanishes immediately.

I gotta be seeing things. He rubs his eyes under his glasses, blinks a few times before they go wide again. I’m definitely seeing things.

It’s the kids. Well, grown up versions, but it’s them. All of them. All in the same room, reunited with the same dorky grins they’ll never grow out of, no matter how tall they get.

“El, the confetti,” Dustin hisses from the corner of his mouth; El gives a soft “Oh!” before twitching her head to the side a little, loosening a bag of confetti with her abilities from the ceiling to rain over everyone, grinning proudly.

Each of them have balloons, or cards, even poorly wrapped gifts.

“Quit rubbing your eyes, old man,” Lucas jokes, earning some snickers from the group.

Eddie and Robin are off to the side, giving a high five to one another in celebration, and a thumbs up to Frankie.

“I don’t…” Steve’s overwhelmed— why are they here? He’s not complaining, just completely confused. Did he miss something? Still smiling, he asks cautiously, “What’re we celebrating?”

“Oh, dude, c’mon, you’re old, but not that old yet!” Max exclaims, huffing and crossing her arms.

“Nah, he is,” Erica quips smoothly, “Dude’s practically a grandpa by now.”

“Just as brutal as ever, I see,” Steve murmurs, giving Frankie a giggle. She squeezes his hand before letting go. “Seriously, what am I missing? N- not that I’m not happy to see you guys—“ That part sinks in finally. “Holy shit, you’re all here.”

“Except Nancy and Jonathan, but they said they’re sending a card,” Mike explains with a shrug.

“A ca- card for what?”

Everyone grows quiet, realizing he’s not joking; every now and then his head trauma brings bouts of forgetfulness, and right now must be one of those times.

“Steve,” Will is the first to answer, tone soft, empathetic, “It’s your birthday.”

“Did you really think we came all this way with presents and balloons and shit just ‘cause?”

With ease, Steve falls back into parent mode, hand on one hip as the other points at Mike. “Hey, watch it, Wheeler.” The other kids snicker at the nostalgia the moment brings.

Dustin elbows Mike in the side before speaking up, “So… we celebrating, or what?”

Steve glances over at Frankie, who winks, and actually succeeds this time, before flipping the OPEN sign to CLOSED.

“This was what you guys were talking about in the back the other day, wasn’t it?”

Frankie blushes with a nod, “Sorry to keep a secret from you, Steve. Worth the wait, though, yeah?” As she kisses his cheek, he grins, feeling seen and loved.

Worth the wait, for sure.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

After hanging out and catching up at the record shop, everyone ends up at Frankie’s apartment, where they’re crashing for a few days— she refused to have the kids pay for somewhere to stay, not when she has the room to host everyone comfortably.

The kids, no matter how old, forever will be kids to him. Still those brave, stubborn, sassy little shits. With everyone reunited, it brings him back to the nights spent planning attacks on monsters, and the aftermath with everyone finding refuge in a house he once found empty, all the time.

It was never a home, not until these twerps showed up, taking over every surface to sleep on, raiding the kitchen for midnight snacks, swimming in the pool until their fingers and toes pruned up like raisins.

It wasn’t home until Robin took a running start on one end of the kitchen, sliding along the cool tiled floor in her socks, only to land on her foot wrong and give herself a hairline fracture. She was stuck in a boot cast for what felt like forever.

Steve’s house didn’t feel like home until he found Eddie gently shooing a spider out of the back door safely; the man who was demonized by all of Hawkins, made out to be the devil himself, was a big softie despite the lies.

The walls he grew up within, a miserable fortress than anything, was never considered home— not until Dustin spent a lot of his free time there, uninvited, naturally. Steve didn’t mind, though. In fact, he really did love when that kid waltzed in like he owned the place; Dustin became the little brother that Steve never had, but always secretly wanted.

That big, fancy house never felt like a home, until his real family filled it with love. His parents’ absence made it so empty, and somehow when they were home, it felt even lonelier.

When anyone needed somewhere to stay after drinking too much, or family conflict at home, they had somewhere safe to rest their head at night with Steve. During heartbreaks of any kind, for any of them, he always had comfort snacks ready and his shoulder open, waiting to be cried on. If anyone needed a friend, or an older brother figure, Steve and that damn empty house were always there.

Flashes of home would come and go since moving to Chicago. Living with Robin kept him sane in that sense, and once Dustin and Eddie moved next door, it felt like a piece of normalcy was given back to him.

Hawkins, Indiana was a disaster, an absolute dangerous depiction of hell on earth, but it felt like home with everyone there. It felt safe when he was with his family.

It doesn’t hit him, not until tonight, five years after fleeing Hawkins, that home was never really one set location at all. You can’t pin it on a map. It’s not where you’re born and raised.

Home is where your people are.

And all this time, Steve’s homesickness had been over his friends, his real family, not the cursed, small town he came from. He was never homesick for Hawkins, not really, not fully.

Steve Harrington felt homesick for a love not one thing or location could ever replace.

In the kitchen of Frankie’s apartment, an old converted warehouse in the middle of Chicago, Illinois, listening to the kids throw memories back and forth, argue and bicker like the old days, laugh at the most immature humor they once all held— an unlikely place to find this safety again, Steve feels at home.

“Stevie? Do you know if we—“

Even though the majority of Frankie’s apartment is wide open, she doesn’t realize he’s lost in his thoughts until she finds him leaning against the fridge, back turned to the living area where all the kids’ sleeping arrangements are laid out.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She keeps her voice soft and low, not wanting to attract unwanted, overwhelming attention to her partner. Standing before him, she lifts his chin with a gentle touch, hand cradling the side of his face when their eyes meet. “What happened?”

Steve gives a quick, soft laugh as he comes back to the present moment; he pushes his glasses up, just enough to rub away his tears.

“It’s nothing. I’m okay, I promise.” He pulls her into his embrace, kissing the top of her head.

She murmurs into his chest, “You wanna try that again?”

Another laugh leaves him; she will always be able to see through his walls, and he needs that. He needs someone like Frankie.

“Haven’t felt this at home since leaving Hawkins,” He sniffles, refusing to let her go and look her in the eye. “Don’t think I’ll ever be able to properly thank you for bringing them here, ‘Key.”

“Can’t take all the credit, your best friends did most of the work.” She squeezes him in return, nuzzling her face into the front of his shirt. “I forgot what I came in here for.”

“You actually came in here for me,” He teases, loosening his hold on her. “‘Cause you just missed me that much, huh?”

Glancing up, Frankie grins lazily, kissing the underside of his chin. The two bask in the moment in their own corner of the world, until the front door’s kicked in. Like the night in Steve’s room, when Dustin banged on the door, startling them both, Frankie jumps into Steve’s arms with a racing heart.

Eddie and Robin stumble in, with arms full of board game boxes, VHS tapes, and god knows how many bags of junk food.

“Ew, guys, get a room. There’s children here,” Eddie scoffs, heading toward the group. Robin snickers as she follows behind him.

“Oh, that was it! Snacks.” Frankie recalls the original reason that brought her to the kitchen. “Guess I did find one though,” She tries winking at him like earlier, but it looks like an eye twitch, bringing them both into a fit of giggles.

Despite the laughter, Steve narrows his eyes at his girlfriend, “Gross, don’t say goofy shit like that. I might fall in love with you, or something.”

With a soft smile, she whispers, “Happy birthday, Steve.” Frankie presses up on her toes, kissing Steve softly, murmuring a gentle, “Take your time, come back when you’re ready, okay?”

He nods, kissing her one more time before she’s heading out of the kitchen. As he sighs, content, Frankie turns around quickly.

“Oh, and, uh. Steve?”

“What’s up, ‘Key?”

She’s giving her signature, sunshine-like smile to him, as warm as the first time Steve saw it.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

#steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x fem!oc #steve harrington x female oc #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #how many Steve tags can i add #my fics #fic: accident prone

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illicitlimerence-writes · 2 years ago

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secret keeper | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x driver!teammate!reader word count: 2.1k words (i really wanted all of these to be short lol sorry) request: don’t think so! prompt: doing secret santa ⎯ “just tell me who got me.” from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: kinda crack!fic, idk. language, really fluffy, seb being great, special appearance by the spanish speaking gang (i had to). reader speaks spanish in this. a/n: here’s day 2! i hope you like it, pls let me know what you think! reminder that my requests are closed.

my masterlist

(you'll know why i chose this gif later lol)

doing secret santa was the most exciting part of the year for her. it was something so silly and it made her so happy, the thought of having someone actually think deep about what they felt she’d really enjoy was a thrilling one.

something she didn’t quite like about secret santa was that first part. the secret. whilst she did like surprises, and there were only a few limited options as to who might give her something, the anticipation was too much for her.

her teammate, mick, had made a bet with himself, to see how long it’d take her to either figure out or start interrogating everyone until they told her who her secret santa was. at first he gave it ten minutes, but he laughed to himself as he watched her.

they were doing the standard start-of-year interviews, the drivers’ goals and predictions, and the secret santa name draw. mick had already finished his, and was waiting for her so they could go and have lunch together. normally they’d wait longer to do the name draw, but last year the organizers had left it till the last minute, and they didn’t want to risk it this time. plus, they’d have a whole season ahead of them to think really well about the gift.

“okay, (y/n), i’ve got this santa hat here-” the interviewer said, showing her the hat.

“ooh, christmas in march, i like it!” she laughed.

“and in here there’s the names of the other drivers available for the gift exchange,” she nodded at the interviewer.

“i like that we’re doing this right at the start of the season,” she chuckled, grabbing the hat by the white fluff, the pom pom hanging down, “but i can assure you, more than one person will wait until the day before to get their gift,” the people around her laughed, mick did, too. “why are you laughing? did you feel called out?” she asked mick, raising an eyebrow. a camera panned to him, shaking his head at her.

“i already know what i’m going to get,”

“ooh, tell me, tell me!” she rushed to him, moving her hair away from her ear. he leaned in, presing his lips close to her ear.

“no.”

she rolled her eyes, slapping the back of his head.

“did you get seb?” she asked walking back to the spot where she was supposed to be, where all the cameras were ready to record her. she hadn’t arrived in time to see his secret santa segment, so she’d have to find out another way.

“i’m not going to tell you!” he laughed, as the interviewer shook her head.

“you’re not supposed to tell each other, or anyone,” she clarified.

“ugh, fine.” she laughed, “sorry,” she apologized, and placed her hand in, “wait, then he should leave! or he’ll know who i get,” she pointed an accusatory finger at him. “what if i get him?”

“someone else already got mick,” the interviewer clarified, and her shoulders slumped a little, it wasn’t a lie that the two of them were the closest friends and teammates, but she wouldn’t let that discourage her.

“dang it, what am i going to do with all those treats i got for angie, then?” she teased, mick laughed. “so sorry, i know this is taking way longer than it should’ve. i promise i’ll focus now.” she nodded, “you can stay, just promise not to tell anyone,” she told mick, who pretended to zip his lips together.

she ran her fingers through all the folded pieces of paper, finally picking one that called to her. she unfolded it, her eyes opening wide as she read.

“hell yes!” she skipped from one foot to the other, jumping in excitement, “i got seb!” she declared happily, showing the paper to everyone. “ha-ha!” she mocked mick, who only rolled his eyes as he laughed. the two of them were the best of friends. they grew up together, and had been teammates since they were in f3, somehow they always found their way back to each other. suddenly her eyes snapped open, “did you get me?” she gasped. mick shook his head. “did he get me?” she asked the rest of the crew behind the cameras, who only laughed at her eagerness, but didn’t answer. “fine, if you could just tell whoever got me that my favorite color is blue, that would be great, thanks!”

months passed and as the end of season approached, her relentlessness to know who her secret santa was came back with as much as before. this time, mick wasn’t her only victim.

it started in mexico city, when she was walking alongside charles and lando, and someone from charles’ team approached him.

“hey, charles, just to remind you that the deadline for the secret santa gift is in brazil.” he said, leaving them after that.

“you haven’t turned in your gift?” she asked, she’d done it the week before, when she was finally done packing the perfect gift for sebastian. her mentor.

“i honestly forgot about it,” he said, lando laughed, drinking from his water bottle. something shifted in her eyes as an idea popped in her head.

“well, i could help you!” she offered, blinking slowly to gain his attention.

“really?” he asked, feeling like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders, “thanks i honestly didn’t know what to get-” he was about to say the name of his secret santa, but lando elbowed him on the ribs.

“you can’t say it!” he scolded him, chuckling at her enraged face.

“lando you ass! he was about to tell me!” she grunted, grabbing charles’ face and directing his eyes to her. “tell me charles, who’s your secret santa?”

“no! i can’t say,” he shook his head, feeling something in the pit of his stomach as her eyes narrowed.

“did you get me? do you know who got me?” she asked, shaking his shoulders dramatically. lando laughed, charles was trying his hardest to keep a straight face.

“no, and no!” he said, she grunted, and moved on to lando.

“do you know, norris?” she asked.

“no. i don’t know. and i didn’t get you.”

“you didn’t?” she asked, at least if he denied it she could tick him off his list.

“i don’t know,” he said, shrugging and smiling sheepishly.

she punched his shoulder and walked away, both drivers hurried after her.

finally, in abu dhabi things got a little bit sweeter. the dinner to honor sebastian was a perfect opportunity for her to really tick people off her list of suspects, up until that point the only person off her list was herself. she hadn’t made that much progress. she had to be smart about it, she couldn’t just straight up ask someone about it, much less if her friends were listening to her.

thankfully, as they were about to leave and were all gathering to take a picture, they all started talking about their agendas for the next day.

“i’m doing the secret santa thing early tomorrow, thankfully,” she heard fernando say, in spanish, he was talking to the other spanish-speakers of the grid. she thanked the stars for her stubbornness, and her parents for listening to her when she said she wanted to learn as many languages as she could. spanish, of course, french, italian, english, and german. this was her shot, and if she were alone, she would’ve grinned like the grinch. she approached them, slowly, and listened to them. “after that i’m completely free.”

“free of what?” she popped in.

“media duties,” he explained, smiling.

“ugh, i’m busy all day. i think they left my secret santa segment for last.”

“well, of course, everyone knows how much you love that thing,” checo said.

“that’s true, i know,” she chuckled. “did you guys struggle to get your gift?”

“not really, mine is an inside joke with max,” checo shrugged, the name slipping from his lips without him noticing.

“aw that’s nice,” she smiled, feeling carlos looking at her.

“i’m not going to tell you who i got.”

“why? did you get me?” she tried, but carlos shook his head.

“i don’t mind, if it will help you sleep better. i didn’t get you,” fernando admitted, she looked at him gratefully.

“see, carlos? that’s what a good friend does!” she pointed at fernando, “thank you.”

mick called her name, she excused herself and walked to him, feeling his arm around her shoulders.

“what are you doing?” he asked accusatorily.

“we can tick checo and fernando off my list,” she gave him a smug smile, clearly content with her work for the night.

“you’re just not letting this go are you?” he asked, amused at her stubbornness, it didn’t surprise him, he knew her like the back of his hand, but it was still nice to see her trying her hardest to figure this out.

“this all can end if you just tell me who got me.” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder as everyone else gathered around, getting ready for the group picture.

“you’ll know tomorrow. don’t worry.” he reassured her. she sighed.

the next day, mick and (y/n) were like two kids, she’d wanted to watch seb open the present she got him, and had convinced mick to help her make it happen in a way that wouldn’t be so obvious. it didn’t take that much to find a way to stay and watch seb.

they just found him as they walked pass, and asked if they could stay. the lady in charge of all of the f1 media just asked them to stay quiet.

“oh, this is very nice,” seb smiled as he took out the first present, “didn’t we have like $30 limit?” he chuckled, (y/n) and mick laughed too. the last gift was a dead giveaway, a picture of her, mick, and seb. when the two young drivers were just kids, barely starting karting against each other. it was from the first time they met sebastian in a “professional” environment. “oh, well, i think i know who this is from,” he grinned, his eyes darting to the two of them, with mick confused and (y/n) with a big smile on her face. he showed the picture to the camera, a different camera panning to the two haas drivers. “judging by their faces i’d say this is from (y/n),” he guessed.

she nodded her head, and walked to him when he opened his arms for her. they hugged each other, she was going to miss him so much. he’d always been there for her. all throughout her career and her personal life. she looked up to him, admired him and everything he worked for, what he stood for.

“thank you, dear, i loved all of my gifts,” she smiled, proud of herself.

“thank you for everything you’ve done for me,”

after an excruciatingly long day, it was her turn to film her secret santa section.

“i really hope you add a special montage of every time i’ve risked my life, and others’, trying to figure out who got me in this gift exchange,” she only half-joked, but it helped ease the mood with everyone around. mick, as usual, was sitting next to her, on the other side of the cameras.

“we’ll make sure of it,” the f1 producer nodded, making a mental note to check all the footage. once the cameras started rolling officially, she got her signature smile on, “(y/n), welcome to the 2022 f1 secret santa. i know this is something you’ve been looking forward all year long,” she nodded her head, “i won’t make you wait much longer so, here you go,” she was handed a small box, and her first instinct was to shake it to see if it made any noise.

“i hear a faint jingling.” she said, unwrapping the blue ribbon around the black box. “it’s blue! thanks santa!” she smiled, remembering the comment she’d made about her favorite color. “oh, whoa-” her eyes widened as she saw the gift. it was a necklace, with the outline of a track hanging in the middle. “it’s spa!” she giggled, recognizing the twists and turns. “oh my god, this is so nice, i-” her eyes widened as she stared at it, a light flush had creeped its way up to her cheeks. “oh, gosh, i-” she was at a loss for words, she was expecting maybe a gift that was partly a joke, or something small. this was too much. “i don’t think i can accept this.”

“do you have any clue as to who it might be?” they asked her, she was still too shocked to think.

“no. well, i mean the only person that pops in my head that might be this thoughtful is either mick or seb, but i guess maybe charles, too? i know he’s sponsored by a jewelry company,”

“you’re so close,” they told her.

“pierre?” she guessed, it didn’t really make sense, he didn’t know that spa was her favorite track, well, to her knowledge.

“not quite,” she sighed.

“i don’t know. i-” she turned her head, seeing mick looking at her, throughout the entire time he could feel his eyes on her, it wasn’t anything different. but she saw a faint blush on his cheeks, his ears. “oh my god. no. are you shitting me?” she asked him, directly, not even looking at the cameras. “it was you? it’s been you this entire time?” she asked. and mick couldn’t hide it anymore, he smiled, nodding. “mick!” she ran to him, he stood up as she approached him and she jumped in his arms. “thank you, i love it,” she said.

“i’m glad you liked it,” he said, suddenly becoming shy under all of the stares.

once she returned to her spot, she couldn’t wipe the grin off her face. her fingers were playing with the chain that now hung from her neck.

“how’d you know it was mick?” they asked her.

“well, not many people know that my favorite track is spa. i mean, they probably wouldn’t think it is given my bad luck there,” she said, referring to the fiasco last year and her dnf of that year after having a great race. “and he blushes a lot,” she added, chuckling.

they hurried the rest of the video, as she thanked him once more, this time in front of the cameras.

“i should’ve known,” she said as she shook her head. “i knew there was a reason you weren’t telling me.”

“ah, well, i had to keep the secret,” he chuckled.

“i really love this, mick, thank you. you really didn’t have to get me something so…”

“oh, you’ll just have to wait and see what i’ve got in store for christmas,” he smiled, leaving her stunned there as he kept walking.

“what do you mean? you got my gift already?!” she asked, rushing to him again.

“i don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe,” he said as he got into the elevator.

“what is it? can you give me a clue?” she asked.

“hmm… i can just say you’re going to love it,” mick smiled, already looking forward to their christmas trip, one that could possibly change the course of their friendship, possibly changing to something more. being her secret santa wasn’t the only secret mick was keeping.

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader

(this is a sequel to 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞, I recommend reading that first although it’s not 100% necessary... it would make this make a lot more sense though)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : it was just a matter of time before he upped the ante, all four of you knew that, but taking you all on a vacation specifically for this was a bit over-the-top.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 7.9k (hoo boy)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex + a scene that’s just zemo/reader, cockwarming, d/s dynamics, brief oral f receiving, a touch of dubcon/cnc but it’s very subtle and the reader is 100% consenting), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink (with zemo), ‘daddy’ kink (with sam), orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, creampie, praise with light degradation, possessiveness (but also sharing, lol), exhibitionism/voyeurism, choking, brief anal mention, once again technically cuckolding but not in the typical sense, slight corruption kink?, too many robes, latin sokovian (or as I like to call it, serbukromanian), also assume that whenever the reader and zemo are alone they are speaking sokovian even though I write the convos in english for the sake of simplicity

thank you for being my beta @nsfwsebbie !!

When your Baron told you he wanted to take you on a vacation, you immediately assumed it would be to the mountains or some European city full of history and culture. Instead, you were a bit surprised to hear he was interested in a beach resort, a private villa he had purchased in French Polynesia.

And then you found out he wanted to bring Sam and Bucky along too… and you were simultaneously more and less surprised. More, because who brings tentative coworkers one barely gets along with on a romantic vacation? Less, because of course he would do this. Of course he had plans to dress you up in the tiniest bikinis he could find and show you off to the men who had already become pawns in his perverted game of social chess.

Not that you minded; you were the Queen of the board and it didn’t bother you if it was what the King wanted.

You spent the first night in the villa alone with him, which you appreciated. It had been a while since you two had some real quality time together, and you were craving him more than ever, in every way.

After a beautiful day spent swimming in the crystal blue ocean and enjoying the sights your new temporary home had to offer, you took a shower and tried not to get too excited about how you might be spending the evening with him. But, of course, you were only a few minutes into washing the saltwater off your body when you began to imagine his tongue on you, god that man could use his tongue to destroy you any way he wanted: with his words, with his kisses, or perhaps best of all with it tasting every inch of your cunt. It was amazing how he could get on his knees for you and still have all the power. He liked to make you keep eye contact with him while he did it, make you beg him to let you come, whatever it took to remind you that you were thoroughly and properly owned.

And you loved every second of it, you loved being helpless to him. He made you feel so safe that being vulnerable with him by now felt like no risk at all. You could remember early on when your fears and insecurities made you more hesitant to submit to him, and it was only with gentle patience that he coaxed you into it, never pressure or anger. You weren’t a virgin when you met him but, sometimes it felt like you might as well have been since you were so inexperienced and undersexed then. In fact, he was the first man, the first person other than yourself to make you come… and he made you come more ways than you had known possible.

Okay, so maybe the plan to not get your hopes up wasn’t going so well… you were already struggling to keep your hands from between your legs. Frankly, you would’ve already done it if you didn’t know that touching yourself was against the rules.

You’d gotten so used to taking care of yourself while he was in prison, at which point he obviously suspended that rule, and it was a hard habit to break at times.

You emerged from the bathroom in the fluffy robe you found on the door, smiling when you saw him lounging on the bed in a matching one, reading Анна Каренина (known by the West as Anna Karenina). He looked contemplative, as always, and you always thought he looked especially sexy in his reading glasses. You slipped into the bed beside him, resting your head on his chest as he found a position where he could read comfortably with his arm around your shoulders.

“You must’ve already read that book a thousand times, Helmut,” you sighed.

“And it gets better every time,” he mumbled back, turning the page.

You pouted slightly, nuzzling into his shoulder, and he chuckled. “Is my little lutka in need of some attention?”

You nodded, and he kissed the top of your head softly.

“Why don’t you keep me warm while I finish this chapter, hm?” he offered, and you involuntarily clenched your thighs together at his words. He phrased it like a question, but it felt more like a gentle demand, and you were happy to agree either way.

“Yes, sir,” you hummed as you sat up and straddled his legs, undoing your robe and opening his to wrap your hand around his half-hard cock.

He reached his full potential with only a few slow strokes, and you found yourself absent-mindedly licking your lips as you saw the way your fingers just barely met with your thumb and imagined how your body would be pushed to its limits to take him. Good thing you were already dripping wet even though you’d just been in the shower.

You indulged in rubbing your pussy over his shaft for a moment, enough to coat him in your wetness, before you lined up his tip to your entrance and sunk down onto him with a sigh, feeling like you could never tire of being stretched open by his thick cock.

When your hips met his, and the tip of his cock brushed against the deepest parts of you, you had to bite your lip to suppress a whimper. After so long apart, you were still readjusting to taking him and being on top didn’t make it much easier.

Honestly, you really weren’t trying to move; you just found your hips rocking slightly, seemingly of their own accord. You moaned under your breath as your clit rubbed against his body, but you were pulled from your trance with a whine as he slapped your thigh.

“No moving, draga, I think I made myself clear,” he reminded you sternly.

“Yes, sir,” you breathed.

You were pretty sure that at some point, you were a patient person. But you couldn’t imagine that now, not when all you could think about was how amazing it would be to just ride him right there, memories running through your mind and making your inner walls ripple unintentionally. He either couldn’t feel it or didn’t care, stoically continuing to read even as you were struggling to stay still.

Your plan was to be good for a while and then hope that you could convince him later… but you know what they say about best-laid plans, so you ended up cutting straight to the convincing pretty fast.

“Can I move yet, sir?”

“It’s hardly been a minute,” he frowned.

“Please,” you sighed, just barely moving your hips without even meaning to.

“Not yet,” he asserted, sounding a bit annoyed, but you needed this more than anything.

"Please let me move, please; I just wanna ride you so bad,” you begged.

He sighed, clearly irritated, and just when you thought you’d made a grave error, he finally put his book aside and looked up at you with a grin. "If I had known you would be so whiny, I would have had you keep me warm with your mouth.”

You opened your mouth to respond but let out only whimpery moans when he ran his hands up your body, toying briefly with your nipples before wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you down into a rough kiss. Moaning into it, you couldn’t hold back any longer and started to rock your body atop his, savoring that perfect drag of his length along your walls that you’d missed so much.

Before you got a chance to really set your pace, he grabbed you tight and rolled the both of you over, pinning you under his weight as he fucked you in that way that was somehow rough and slow at the same time, moving his kiss to your neck and holding you down by your wrists.

“Fuck, th-thank you, sir,” you sighed, your cheeks warming when he chuckled against your skin.

“You really are too sweet, draga,” he whispered.

Your arms wrapped around his neck while your legs did the same to his hips, keeping him deep inside you while his lips and tongue teased your collarbones, his fingers interlacing with yours.

He spent the entire night somewhere between making love to you and fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come more times than you could count, only taking breaks from fucking you to eat you out like a starving man (and one time for a quick drink sometime around 3 a.m.). It was no wonder, then, that you passed out just a few moments after he finally came inside you, sleeping soundly in his arms until well into the morning, nearly noon in fact, when the sun was streaming in through the massive window.

After a relaxed breakfast of champagne and fruit (the native pamplemousse was unlike anything you’d ever eaten before), Helmut encouraged you to shower again and meet him at the pool, which was a bit surprising since he normally liked to have you keep his come in you as long as possible. “Our guests should be here this afternoon,” was his only explanation, and you had a few ideas about what that meant, all of which made your gut sink in an oddly pleasurable way as you were filled with anticipation.

“Wear that bathing suit I bought for you, the new one,” he added finally as he stepped out onto the back patio.

It might seem silly to have a pool on a property right by the beach, but on days like today, where the ocean water was just a bit too chilly, you were thankful to have the heated pool to take a dip in. Honestly, you were a little surprised that Helmut didn’t make you swim in the ocean to see your nipples get hard through the tight black bikini, but then again, they were already getting there just from sharing a pool chair with him.

He was lying against the cushioned chair; your body sat between his spread legs as the back of your head rested on his chest. And, this is entirely unrelated, but you really liked how he looked in the round sunglasses he had on.

You hummed contentedly as you reached up behind you to touch him, rubbing his shoulders and pecs. You wiggled a bit, slowly, and imagined how it would feel if he got hard right against the small of your back.

"Mm, what's gotten into you, lutka?" he purred, rubbing your arms.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You know the effect you have on me, don't act surprised."

Just before anything exciting could happen, Sam and James entered through the fence, apparently already having changed into their swimsuits; you wished you had thought to wear sunglasses so they couldn’t catch you ogling their muscular bodies, but instead, you just tried to keep your cool as you waved hello.

“Welcome!” Helmut called out, both of you getting up to greet them properly. “I hope your flight was alright…?”

“Yeah, it was great,” Sam nodded, “thanks.”

“You really own this whole place?” James added, glancing around.

“Yes, would you like to have a swim? I hear it should be warm enough tomorrow for the ocean, but until then…” Helmut trailed off.

Sam went right ahead, diving in and smiling wide when he popped back up. That man had such an infectious smile, you thought he should charge people to see it or something because you felt spoiled seeing it for free.

James jumped in behind him but seemed a little surprised when he returned to the surface to see you back in your chair with Helmut. “Care to join us?” he asked you.

“Um, no, I already swam a bit this morning,” you remembered, suddenly shy, “I think I’ll stay by the pool a while longer.”

“Aw, I was looking forward to getting to know you better,” he pouted, and everyone else raised an eyebrow at that statement. “Um, verbally, I mean,” he added, cheeks flushing slightly.

“What would you want to know?” you asked, sighing as you relaxed against Helmut’s chest.

“Well, what’s your story?” he shrugged, swimming up the edge of the pool to hang his arms over the edge.

“I… suppose it’s a rather short story,” you realized, “I was born in Sokovia, but my parents were immigrants. I was a bit of an ugly duckling as a child, I think.”

“You look like quite the swan now,” James winked, and you hoped Helmut wouldn’t notice how much that affected you.

“Oh, thank you,” you mumbled.

“Which reminds me, that’s a cute bikini you have on,” he complimented.

“Do you like it?” you hummed coyly. “Helmut picked it out.”

“Why don’t you give them a better look, darling?” Helmut prompted, and Sam swam up to hang over the edge too as you stood up and fought the urge to cover yourself with your arms. The Baron motioned his finger in a circle, silently instructing you to twirl so they could see the back, and you did though you felt a bit self-conscious about it. Finally, once you were sure they’d had an eyeful, he let you sit back down in his lap.

“Cute, isn’t it?” he cooed as his fingers travelled slowly up your sides. “It’s Chanel.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sam dismissed, unlatching himself from the edge of the pool and falling into a backstroke. “This is weird. I just wanna swim.”

“You didn’t think this was seriously a free vacation, no strings attached, did you?” James shot back, getting up out of the pool and shaking some of the water off of himself before sitting down in the chair beside you two and letting his eyes wander over you. “So, Chanel, huh?” he prompted, and you nodded.

“Helmut says I should only wear the nicest things,” you explained, sitting up slightly.

“Why does it matter? You’d look beautiful in anything,” James cooed, and you felt a little dirty for how much you liked his attention. Good thing you liked feeling dirty.

“And a rare wagyu steak would taste just as good served any way, but you wouldn’t put it on a paper plate, now would you?” Helmut countered. “Well, maybe you would…”

James rolled his eyes but brushed off Helmut’s insult, returning his attention to you. “I guess I’m just… hungry enough that it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

You reached up to trace your fingertip over the silver chain dangling off of his neck, biting your lip as you hooked your finger around it and pulled him closer. “Are you hungry enough that you don’t mind that it’s another man’s meal?”

His blue eyes went wide for a moment before glancing down to your lips and back up to your unwavering gaze, your brow raised as if a challenge while his furrowed as if he were considering accepting it.

“If he’s willing to share…” James whispered back.

“Then kiss me,” you requested softly, pulling him closer by his dog tags one more time until your lips met.

The way James kissed you was… difficult to describe. Gentle, but with this edge of intensity— like he was restraining himself, like there was so much more passion teeming beneath the surface. You wanted to bring that out if you could; you wanted to see how far you could push him until he lost it.

As James carefully ventured his tongue into your mouth, only to pull back and nip your bottom lip with his teeth, Helmut kissed you too— on the back of your neck, that spot that always made you wet and desperate right away. You moaned, and you couldn’t be sure exactly who it was for, but James sure decided to respond to it either way, tilting his head more to let his kiss explore you deeper.

Helmut’s teeth dug into your shoulder right as James nipped at your bottom lip like they had somehow explicitly coordinated to make you desperate; your right hand reached up to weave into James’ hair, your left squeezing Helmut’s wrist at your side.

The kiss ended just a moment too soon, and there was a delay before you blinked your eyes open to look back at James, who seemed quite proud of himself.

“Touch me,” you pleaded in a whimper.

“Where?” he asked, somewhat innocently.

“Y-you know where…” you mumbled.

He grinned wide, all trance of innocence gone. “I know, but I want you to say it.”

“My cunt,” you whispered, and he snarled just a bit at the word. “Please?”

“Of course, which one do you want?” James prompted with a grin, showing you his hands as your eyes instantly gravitated to the metal one.

“I think you know which I’m going to choose,” you mumbled shyly, and he smirked as he reached forward with the vibranium arm to brush his fingertips over your stomach, moving down to the top hemline of your bikini bottom.

You just barely gasped when the metal digits swiped over your clit and began to rub gentle circles, almost too slow as if he wanted to tease you… which, of course, he did.

"Do you like the way he touches you, draga?" Helmut whispered. His voice in your ear was like honey on your tongue, like honey everywhere.

"Yes, sir," you nodded, looking down at James' hand buried into your bikini.

"Hey, tell me you like it, too," James protested, "I'm the one doing it after all."

"I like it, James," you repeated, looking up at him. "I… don't have a title for you. Should I call you something when you touch me like this?"

"You can just call me Bucky from now on, okay? I think we're well past close enough now for that."

"Okay, Bucky," you sighed, watching the way his jaw clenched when you called him by name, "please put your fingers inside me."

"Both?"

"Yes, please," you breathed.

"But my fingers are thick, they're hard metal, and you're so small and delicate…"

"I want them to stretch me out, just please—"

A loud moan of shock jumped out of your mouth when he pushed the fingers in all at once, and though it reawakened some of the soreness from when Helmut had fucked you the night before, it felt wonderful enough to make your back arch up from the strong body behind you, his erection now digging into your hip.

It was certainly loud enough to get Sam's attention, who suddenly appeared beside the chair while he towelled off his chiselled chest.

"Damn, what are y'all doing to her over here?" he wondered aloud as if he were concerned for your health.

"Just playing with Zemo's little doll," Bucky answered. "She's really fucking tight, can barely fit two fingers."

"Wait, move over, let me see," Sam insisted, making Bucky pull his fingers out and Helmut holding you more firmly as Sam slipped his hand into your bikini as well, poking his fingers at your entrance before pushing them in.

His fingers were even thicker and longer than Bucky's, just by a slight margin yet enough to make you mewl and arch your back as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Fuck, yeah, you were right," Sam breathed, and you felt more hands running over your body but you couldn't even tell anymore whose they were; you knew one that reached to pull up your bikini top and expose your breasts was Helmut's, because only he would be so bold, but the fingers teasing your nipples, the rough palm running up your legs… they could've belonged to anyone, and that realization made your clit throb.

"Okay, okay, that's enough. I was here first," Bucky mumbled as you felt Sam's fingers slip out and the metal ones push back in— not to mention the thumb reaching up to circle your clit slowly.

He wasn't just exploring you this time; you could tell he had a mission. The way he instantly curled into your spot, the way he moved quickly yet deliberately, all made your thighs begin to quiver.

Helmut kissed your ear, gently tilting your head to access your neck better where he began to suck hard enough to leave a mark, mumbling something in Sokovian about how good you were being for him and his guests.

You loved being good, and the praise made your hips lift a little so you could rock yourself onto Bucky's fingers; the three men chuckled proudly.

"Feels that good?" Bucky pressed, and you nodded quickly.

He fingered you even faster, harder, and you cried out.

"Ohhh fuck, Bucky!" you gasped. "Bucky, I'm gonna come!"

"Oh no, you're not," Helmut groaned, giving you a quick spank on the inner thigh as you whined and jolted. "James, take your fingers out."

"Do I have to?"

"You do if you want a chance to fill her with more than just your fingers…"

That worked right away, Bucky pulling back as you pouted at being empty again.

“Let’s take her inside, and we can continue this there,” Helmut suggested, and Bucky lifted you up into his arms as the Baron led the group back to the master suite.

The convenient thing about bathing suits is that it takes so little time to get naked, which is why the second the patio door was shut, Bucky and Sam were stripping as their hard cocks bobbed up against their stomachs. As if that weren’t overwhelming enough, Helmut stepped away for a moment (which left you feeling more alone than usual) just as the men began to help you strip; Sam untied the back of your bikini while Bucky knelt and pulled down the bottoms, leaving you feeling exposed as you were totally bare before them. Bucky smiled up at you and kissed along your thighs while Sam grabbed a handful of your ass and growled a bit under his breath.

When you looked over at Helmut, you saw he had actually dressed in his robe rather than stripping, nearly making you whine with disappointment. But you couldn’t focus on that long as hands moved all over your skin, both of them still just slightly wet from the pool, and you shivered for both of those reasons.

You gasped when Bucky suddenly licked a thick stripe right over your folds, and if it weren’t for Sam’s arms holding you up, you might not have been able to stay standing.

Looking down at where Bucky was devouring you, he looked back up at you with a lot less dominating intensity in his eyes than you were used to seeing. Not that you minded; after all, no one could do what Helmut did as well as he could, but maybe Bucky could do something different, and it would be just as enjoyable. His tongue lapping at your clit was certainly wonderful so far.

Sam guided one of your hands back behind you to stroke his cock, your mouth falling slack, which he took advantage of by turning your face and capturing you in an open-mouthed kiss. You heard your moans stifle against his tongue, felt his cock flex a bit as you smeared the precum you found at his tip.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Helmut interrupted, and everyone turned to look at him. “Darling, come here,” he instructed with a curled finger that pointed to the bed, “hands and knees.”

You nodded and pushed the other men away, taking your place on the bed and looking up at him as he held your jaw gently.

"How long has it been since you had another man inside you, lutka?" he asked lowly.

"I can't even remember,” you admitted, “it's been so long…"

“Are you willing to try it?” he asked gently, no hint of domination or pressure in his tone, and you found yourself searching his eyes for the right answer.

“What do you want?” you asked him instead of answering.

“Draga, I’m asking what you want,” he reminded you, but you were afraid he would be hurt if you showed interest in the other men. Sure, previous evidence indicated that wasn’t an issue for him, but your gut instinct was to deny your attraction. So, you compromised.

“All I want is you,” you answered first, “but…”

“But?”

“But is it awful if… if I want them to fuck me, too?”

He smiled, kissing your forehead. “No, I don’t think so. Only as awful as it is that I want to watch them fuck you.”

You looked up at him and smiled back, brimming with gratitude that he was so gentle with you. It was fascinating how he wielded complete control over you and yet never used it against you.

“I have one rule, draga,” he added firmly, “you cannot come for them. You only come for me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And stay on your hands and knees, so I can always get a good look at you, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

He kissed you one more time before pulling away and sitting back in the chair in the corner with his ankle over his knee, looking at Sam and Bucky expectantly. Every chair he sat in seemed to look like a throne as soon as he was in it.

“Well, get on with it, then,” he instructed, motioning to you. The men looked at you and looked at each other before some kind of silent agreement took place and Bucky stepped up first. Sam sat down to watch you as you felt Bucky stand near the bed behind you, flesh and metal fingers running over your back until you shivered.

Then he pressed his cock against you, coating himself in your wetness, and that made you shiver, too.

You braced yourself as he lined himself up, whimpering slightly as he pushed his cock into you as well as hearing him moan lowly. The hand at your waist tightened as he hissed in a breath through his teeth.

"Fuck," he breathed, holding you still so he could fill you completely. “S’tight…” he slurred.

“How does it feel for you?” Helmut asked you, raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, your mouth fallen slack, yet your brow furrowed.

“It feels… different,” you stammered your answer. You gasped loudly as Bucky started to move, and yes, this was very different. His cock was curved differently and though it didn’t exactly reach any new parts of you (you were sure Helmut had already touched every part of you physically accessible), it did stroke them in new ways.

He gained speed rather quickly, clearly too on edge himself to stay patient, and you didn’t blame him although it sent you moving faster toward the edge than you would’ve liked. At first you wondered if it would even be a challenge to keep from coming like Helmut had demanded… you chided yourself internally for ever being so hubristic.

His legs pushed yours apart, spreading them wider, and he began to really fuck you in earnest, fast and needy and each slam of his hips against your ass harder than ever. “O-oh fuck,” you choked, forcing your eyes shut and scrunching up your nose for a second when he slammed the tip of his cock right into the deepest spots inside you. This position left you with nowhere to go, put your whole body on display for him along with giving you no escape from his onslaught of pleasure. Worst of all was that you were pretty sure he wasn’t even trying that hard to make you feel good, and yet feeling used like that only turned you on more.

"Bucky, please, slow down," you whimpered.

"Absolutely do not do that," Helmut interjected sternly. "Don't let her tell you what to do."

And, possibly just to spite you, he actually fucked you faster. You sobbed and bit down on your lip, fighting everything building up inside you.

“You’d better not come,” Helmut warned through his teeth, “you’d better not fucking come. You know how bad it would be for you if you came for another man.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you nodded.

But Bucky was slamming right into your spot, and he knew it, too. He knew how desperate you were becoming, and apparently, he didn’t mind at all that you’d be punished for it. He leaned down to growl against your ear, “I know how close you are. Don’t you think it’d feel so good to just let go and come on my cock?”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as the force it took to hold back your orgasm became painful. “No, it would only feel good to come for Helmut…”

“C’mon baby, just stop fighting it and come for me,” Bucky taunted, “squeeze me tight with that sweet little pussy; I know you need to so bad.”

He wasn’t wrong, but you blinked with teary eyes up at Helmut and wanted nothing more than to please him and make him proud of you. “Please, m-make him stop,” you begged, “I won’t be able to hold back anymore…”

“He’s not going to stop until he comes, lutka, and you need to stay strong,” he explained, his voice soothing you slightly. “You need to be my good girl. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

Bucky held your hips tight as he pulled your body back onto his cock, and you forced your eyes shut to try to focus on not coming. No other man had made you come in your life but Helmut, and you had no intentions of breaking that streak.

“Think you can make me come before I make you come?” Bucky challenged.

“I have to,” you answered breathlessly. “And I want you to come… I wanna make you come so bad, Bucky, please…”

“Mhmm?” he encouraged.

“Please, I want it, please come for me,” you whimpered.

“Fuck, I will,” he promised darkly, fucking you even harder.

Helmut interjected a brief instruction: “Pull out.”

Bucky nodded a little, breathing heavily as you felt his cock throb slightly, especially at the base where each movement stretched you out even more. It was so beautifully erotic and you were tensing every muscle inside you to try not to come, which helped speed him up quite a bit since you were gripping him so tight.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunted, “fuck!”

He pulled out and instantly painted your back with a roar, sliding his cock over your ass as he pumped stream after stream of come onto you. You sighed happily, satisfied that you had managed to stave off orgasm with perhaps only a few seconds to spare— you’d never been so happy to make someone come before because this time it brought relief that you had done well for your Baron.

Then again, you always felt that way when you made the man himself come, but this was different because you had been moments away from failing him.

Speaking of the Baron, he stared down at you proudly the whole time, kneeling down slightly to swipe his finger through the cooling spend on your back and bring it to your open lips. “Mm, you really are my perfect little girl,” he mumbled as you sucked his finger diligently. But he turned his attention away from you to call out across the room, “Sam! It’s your turn.”

Your eyes went wide. “W-wait, Helmut, I’ll come!”

“No, you won’t,” he hissed, eyes darkening again, “because I told you not to.”

And Sam was already behind you, taking Bucky’s place who had already cleaned himself up a bit and returned to his seat, letting the Baron pour him a drink which he gulped down in one go.

When Sam pushed into the end of you, your natural instinct was to arch your back up to try to keep him from going too deep, but he growled and pushed your back down again with a strong hand that made you feel so small for a moment. “No, baby, no running away… you’re gonna take it all.”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathed, yelping a little when he roughly shoved in that last inch.

From then on, he went much harder on you than Bucky had, spanking you and gripping your ass while he fucked you, and the most embarrassing part was how much harder it made it to keep from coming. It was clear that he realized making you come would give him power over everyone else in the room for different reasons, and he was determined to gain that power.

“Does he fuck you this good, huh?” he groaned.

“He fucks me better,” you shot back right away, making Helmut chuckle slightly.

“If your plan is to make her switch allegiances, you’ll have to do better than that,” Helmut taunted, and Sam doubled his efforts as one hand pinched your clit and the other groped your breast. You almost lost it right there but managed to pull yourself together, your whole body shaking with the effort to keep the pleasure at bay.

“Well, if he can fuck you better then why doesn’t he?” Sam continued his leading questions, even though you could barely keep up a conversation at this point. “Why does he keep pimping you out to us if he’s fucking you right all on his own?”

“Don’t you understand?” you breathed, your head falling down onto the bed as you were almost able to look back enough to see his face. “This is my punishment. He knows I don’t want anyone else; that’s why you’re here.”

Sam smiled, perhaps in pity, and yet you honestly had to close your eyes because his smile was so lovely that it could’ve brought an end to your restraint. “Poor thing, he’s really got you whipped. I… still can’t believe I’m doing this, but you feel too good to stop now.”

He yanked your head back by your hair for emphasis, making you yelp as he fucked you brutally. Your toes curled and your fingers dug into the sheets, and you had to close your eyes because the way Helmut was staring at you made this all much too difficult. Maybe it was just that he didn’t seem jealous at all, or angry; but he didn’t seem like he was getting any excess pleasure out of this, either. It was… almost neutral, but something burned behind his eyes brighter than maybe you’d ever seen it, his legs crossed and his fingers interlaced as he waited for you to either hold or break.

With the top half of your body fallen limply onto the bed, you reached out above your head and felt Helmut’s hand grab yours, squeezing slightly, and it helped keep you grounded as you held his fingers.

“Oh fuck, ‘m gonna come,” Sam groaned out his warning, “gonna cover this pretty ass in my come, you want that?”

“Yes, please,” you shuddered.

“Keep begging for it,” he demanded, rushing his words as you felt his cock start to throb against your walls with his impending orgasm.

“Please come, please come, please come on me, Sam, please,” you chanted, over and over, struggling not to come and hoping that if you could speed him up, then you could make it.

He grunted through his teeth as hot ropes of seed covered your ass; though your body was left wanting, dangling on the edge so close to your release, your mind was satisfied that you had managed to follow your Baron’s rules.

Sam stepped back to admire his work, finding another spare robe to cover himself with as he rejoined the other men across the room.

“Would you like a drink as well?” Helmut offered to Sam, unfortunately letting go of your hand in the process. Sam was still catching his breath, running his hands over his short hair as if he was processing everything.

“No, but are those cigars up for grabs?” Sam replied, pointing to the ornate box propped open, and Helmut nodded.

“Of course; what’s mine is yours,” he answered, presenting the box and lighter to him.

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Sam added flatly, the three of them all looking at where you were sitting, covered in come and waiting patiently for your next command.

Just as you feared they’d all have their cigars and whiskey and ignore you completely, your Baron knelt down to look at you face-to-face, smiling proudly.

“You did so good for me, darling,” he cooed, and your insides clenched as if you could come just from hearing that. “You don't think I'm horribly cruel, do you?"

"No, sir," you smiled weakly.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised with a kiss to the tip of your nose as he stepped away to the master bathroom.

You glanced at the other men— Bucky with his crystal glass of whiskey, Sam puffing at the cigar stoically— and wondered what, if anything, you could possibly say.

“So, how’s your weekend been so far?” Sam asked you plainly, breaking the silence.

“It’s only Friday night,” you realized, sighing as you tried not to imagine how much debauchery the Baron had in store for you. Right now you were so exhausted that it sounded like too much work; and you were so desperate only for Helmut that the idea of anybody else being involved intimidated you.

Helmut returned quickly with a washcloth, sitting beside you on the bed and placing it gently on your back.

“As pretty as you look covered in come, I’d rather not make too much of a mess,” Helmut explained as he wiped you down with the damp cloth, your skin tingling and your body crying out for more of his touch.

“Will you fuck me, sir?” you mumbled, somewhere between an honest question and a desperate plea.

“Yes, I will,” he answered, making you hum happily, “and I’m finally going to let you come.”

You bit down on your lip, trying not to moan just from hearing that.

“But I’m not going to let you stop.”

The lump in your throat was impossible to swallow, but you tried anyway as he tossed the rag away and circled the bed, standing behind where you were laying limply. He grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down to where he needed you, covering your body with his as he kissed the back of your neck slowly.

“I bet you’ll come the moment I’m inside you, draga,” he whispered. You nodded in agreement, gasping a bit as you felt his cock teasing your swollen, sore pussy. Just the tip bumping into your clit was enough to make you think you could come right there, you’d been on the edge so long.

But then he pushed into you in one stroke, not rough yet enough to reignite the soreness of being filled by two men already, and your walls started to pulse around him. A million words swirled in your mind, words about how perfect he felt and how you’d missed him so much and how no one could fuck you like he could, but none of them made it to your mouth where you could only moan loudly.

He wrapped his arms around you, he kissed everywhere he could reach, and waves of pleasure washed over you until tears filled your eyes. You lost count immediately, coming on his cock over and over as you became a limp, whimpering mess right away.

“You two really did miss out,” Helmut taunted the other men between his own moans, “it feels so fucking amazing to be inside her when she comes. She gets tighter every time… blyat, so tight I can hardly control myself.”

It was already hot to hear him speak to you like that in these moments, but for him to speak to someone else, to keep you from forgetting that you weren’t alone and that these men had just fucked you and were watching you come right now? You hadn’t even imagined before what that would be like.

“Please, please, sir, please,” you chanted, your voice breaking until you could barely whisper.

“What is it that you want, lutka? Do you even know what you’re begging for anymore?”

“I want whatever you want, sir, please,” you cried. He reached around your body to rub your throbbing clit, and you all but screamed.

“I know you do, beautiful, I know,” he breathed, kissing your back and shoulder tenderly to calm you. “I love you so much, draga, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I love you too, Helmut,” you whispered, “more than anything. I love being yours.”

“Aw,” you heard Bucky briefly sigh.

“Dude, shut up,” Sam corrected him harshly.

“It’s sweet!” Bucky defended.

“It’s weird; this is all so weird,” Sam frowned.

“You didn’t seem to mind before…” Bucky trailed off.

Two of Helmut’s fingers swiped over your open lips and you immediately sucked them into your mouth with a satisfied hum, the taste of his skin always comforting you. When he rolled you onto your side, it was so much easier for him to touch you wherever he wanted and it only did more to keep you overwhelmed with pleasure until you worried you couldn’t take much more. But you kept sucking his fingers, tears still falling which he occasionally kissed away, until he took his hand away to wrap around your neck instead. You nodded a little to let him know it was okay to choke you, and your loud moans fell to sudden silence when he tightened his grip.

It made your eyes roll back, it made your walls flutter and your toes start to go numb, it made you wonder if you were going to pass out whether or not he let you breathe again because your body was already ready to give in.

You sucked in a gasp when he let go, sobbing his name as a particularly deep thrust knocked you right into your peak again. He kept one hand on your neck as the other reached between your legs to play with your abused pussy as he fucked it harder than ever.

“I can’t come anymore,” you assured, shaking your head and trying to push his hand away from your sore clit. “I— I can’t…”

“Yes, you can, draga, I know you can. Just relax and let me keep making you feel good,” he instructed, somehow both gentle and demanding all at once.

“I… I can’t…” you breathed, nearly incomprehensible between thick sobs, but you were already coming again in spite of your words, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body from the inside out. He choked you out into silence again, praising you all the way through it.

“There you go, shh, it’s all right,” he soothed, “you’re so beautiful, darling, so good for me, just keep going…”

You reached back to lace your fingers into his hair and tug, which did nothing to deter him from kissing your neck just beneath where his thumb gripped it, same as your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist didn’t stop him from quickly rubbing your clit.

Breath filled your lungs when he let go, and you were so desperate for relief that you felt like you weren’t even in control of your words anymore.

"Please come inside me," you begged mindlessly, "please, I need you so bad, please…"

“Is that what you need?” he groaned. “You need to be full of my seed?”

“Yes, please, want it deep in me— fuck, Helmut, please!”

He growled and bit your ear lightly, mumbling his promise to fill you up in Sokovian— sometimes you thought he spoke Sokovian when he was about to come because he was so distracted that he forgot English, but you didn’t think that at the moment because you were currently too cockdrunk to think about anything.

His low moan echoed right through your body as you felt his cock flex and throb with each pump of come, just as deep as you’d wanted, and you sighed happily at the familiar feeling, finally relaxing into the mattress.

But perhaps you relaxed a little too soon because he made you come one more time after he’d filled you, whispering something about he wanted to use your pussy to milk every drop from his cock, but after that finally he pulled out, and you collapsed face-down onto the bed, ready to pass out even though the sun was only just beginning to set and you’d slept until noon earlier.

“Well, I think we sufficiently knocked her out,” Sam chuckled.

“‘We’?” Helmut repeated, sounding a bit offended yet bemused as he redressed.

“Okay fine, you did most of the heavy lifting, but only cause you wouldn’t let her come for us,” Sam relented with a frown.

“I swear, I was this close to getting her to break,” Bucky interjected, sighing before taking another slow sip of his (third) drink.

“Yeah, what would’ve happened if one of us made her come, anyway?” Sam wondered aloud. “She seemed pretty worried about whatever punishment you had in store for her.”

“Nothing too terrible,” Helmut shrugged, “I just would’ve fucked her in the ass.”

Bucky choked on his whiskey as Sam tried and failed to suppress a smirk.

“She lets you do that?!” Bucky blurted out between fits of coughing.

“She lets me do whatever I want,” Helmut replied, “I’m surprised that hasn’t become abundantly clear to you by now.”

“I guess we’re still adjusting to it, that’s all,” Sam explained. “I don’t know about you,” he looked at Bucky, “but this is new for me.”

“I was born in 1917; everything is new for me,” Bucky frowned.

“Well, this is new for us too,” Helmut assured, “especially her, she was so inexperienced when she met me…”

He paused for a moment to reminisce before glancing at you lying prone on the bed and looked totally fucked-out.

“But look at her now!” he finished. “She takes it all in stride.”

“Yeah, she’s a trooper alright,” Sam agreed. “Be careful with her, Zemo, ‘cause I think if you hurt her too bad, Bucky here is gonna be waiting in the wings to steal her.”

“I— what?!” Bucky snorted defensively.

“Don’t think we can’t see you giving her googly eyes, not that I blame you or anything… getting deepthroated for the first time will definitely make you catch feelings,” Sam smirked before taking a puff of the cigar again.

“It’s not like that, I’m just… listen, I guess I’m just a bit more conventional than you perverts,” he frowned. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, I just can’t imagine having a girl like that all to myself and letting anybody else lay a finger on her.”

“Not everyone is as insecure as you, James,” Helmut shrugged. “Women can’t be stolen. They can only go where they want to. And she wants to be with me.”

He turned back to ask you if you agreed, but you were already fast asleep. Smiling slightly, he grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed and unfolded it to drape over you; you instinctively cuddled up under it without waking up, letting out a quiet sigh.

“Goodnight, draga,” he whispered with a kiss to your forehead. “Rest well, you’ll need it for the morning.”

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #helmut zemo smut #bucky barnes smut #sam wilson smut

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yunhoez · 4 years ago

Text

Coincide

pairings: timeskip!suna rintaro x f!reader

genre: smut, FLUFF, tiny bit of angst like for 2 seconds, followed by more fluff

warnings: NSFW 18+, swearing, orgasm denial, public sex, breeding, "bunny", not proofread (its 3 am), I think that's it but pls let me know if I missed anything

a/n: this is really self indulgent, I had this thought in the shower and something about my trash ass ex seeing me happy with suna makes my brain go brrrrr. don't worry, I'm working on that in therapy :D anyways this is my first time writing smut, lol bye! hope y'all enjoy!!! <3

There’s no reason to attend a high school reunion with people you never liked nor thought of in years. Meaningless chatter mixed with the stench of beer, while the god awful fluorescent lights sting your eyes didn’t sound appealing to you. Yet here you are, standing against the wall of the poorly decorated banquet hall with a drink you’ve hardly touched. The “Welcome Class of 2017” banner in front of you, reminded you of just how little time has passed since you’ve seen these people. If it were up to you, you would’ve ignored the e-vite and binged a show you’ve seen 100 times already. However, your sweet boyfriend, Suna Rintaro, was so eager to see where you spent your teen years and the people who knew you way before he did. Not that they would have very many stories about you, considering how much you kept to yourself, but that didn’t stop Suna from RSVPing on your behalf.

“I fucking hate you.” you spat, taking a sip of your drink, wincing at the strength.

“I know.” suna smirked, handing you his beer and taking your drink for himself.

The both of you stood close together, watching people fein happiness at the sight of each other. What was the point in attending these events if not to show off how much better you’re doing to people who no longer matter to you, if they ever did that is. Suna nudged you lightly, motioning towards a group of people coming toward the two of you.

“Hey! I didn’t think you’d be here!”

“Yeah! Me neither!” you giggle, shooting a glare towards Suna who’s already grinning at you.

Suna knows you hate small talk, but something about seeing you perk up at the memories you’ve seemingly forgotten made him feel warm inside. Although you never wanted to admit it, you missed the people who made your teen years a little less terrible. Suna wrapped his arms around your waist, settling his chin onto your head, as the two of you listened to your friends reminisce about your antics.

“I’m telling you, this girl was in detention every single day!”

“Don’t act like you weren’t there with me!” you huffed, feeling Suna’s chest rumble with laughter. No one had ever taken much interest in your life, except for Suna. It was safe to say you had no idea how to react to his attentiveness when it came to you. You looked up at him, watching how he was soaking in the memories of you, that he didn’t get to witness. He smiles widely at the thought of you picking at your chicken sandwiches, only for you to eat the bread and call it lunch.

You notice the crinkle in his eyes, as he catches you in photos on the projector screen. You cover your face, a blush creeping onto your cheeks, as everyone awes at their younger selves. Suna grabs hold of your hands and pulls them down from your face, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“You know if I went to your school, I would’ve been afraid of you.”

“Says the one who looks bored out of his mind all the time.” you tease him, your gaze still fixed on the dimly lit screen.

“Guess we’re soulmates then.” he hums into your ear, tightening his grip around your waist.

The night went by smoothly, well as smooth as it can get when you’re surrounded by people who most definitely hated each other. Suna leads you to the bar, ordering a round of shots for the two of you.

“If we’re going to be here, we might as well take advantage of the open bar.” he grins, pouring salt onto your hand and handing you the tiny glass.

“I’m sure that’s the only reason so many people showed up.” you respond, licking the salt and downing the burning liquid. Suna brings a lime wedge to your lips, you suck on it lightly as he watches you intently. He brings it to his own mouth, draining the remainder of the juice before neatly folding it in a napkin.

“So what’s the story with those two over there?” he motions to the couple arguing a few feet from you.

“Them? They always do that, one minute they’re in love and the next they’re having a Twitter war.” you say, signaling the bartender for another round.

“Does that mean we’ll get to read some drama tonight?” Suna perks up, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. You giggle, clinking your glasses together and savoring the tequila running through you quicker than you expected.

“Already feeling it, pretty?”

“Pft. No, I’m just feelin’ fuzzy.”

Suna turns you to face him, his eyes starting to glaze over from the drinks. Everything around you feels hazy, but his touch is amplified as he taps on your lips to open. He wedges the lime into your mouth, gaze fixed on the way you swallow the tart juice and pucker your lips. Placing the fruit in his glass, he attaches his lips to yours, groaning at the mix of your sweetness and the sour taste of citrus. The lingering taste of tequila was replaced with his own, your body getting drunk off of him more so than the alcohol. He places his hand onto the small of your back, pressing you into him and eliminating any space between you two. A firm poke to your thigh was enough for you to have you moan softly into his mouth. He pulls away, a string of saliva connecting you two before snapping back onto his lips. He licks them, relishing in the haze of love and need he feels for you.

“Bathroom. Now.” he demands, throwing a wad of cash onto the bar and pulling you with him. A smile plastered on your lips as you follow close behind him, stumbling on your platforms.

The two of you stumble into the men’s bathroom, small giggles falling from your lips as Suna trips over his own foot before locking the door. You lift yourself up onto the counter, feeling the cold tile on your thighs and leaning against the mirror. Suna nudges your legs apart with his thigh, slipping in between them and running his hands up your short dress, peppering kisses along your neck.

“God, I love you.” he mumbles, pulling you closer to him and smashing his lips against yours. Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling at it slightly as he deepens the kiss and moans into your mouth. His grip on your ass tightens, before he makes his way between your legs. He lifts your dress and shoves your panties to the side, staring at the mess he’s caused.

“Always so wet for me, bunny.” he whispers into your core, placing a light kiss onto your clit. You whimper at the minimal contact and he grins, flattening his tongue and licking a stripe between your folds, savoring the taste he could never get enough of. “Fuck..” he moans, the cold metal of his ring clad fingers pumping into you slowly. The sinful moans of his name leave your mouth with no shame, the sound of him devouring you and your screams were sure to be heard from the hallway.

“Rin…” you moan out, your thighs tightening over his head as he continues to suck on your clit.

“You need me, baby?” he asks, looking up at you through his thick lashes. His honey eyes dripped with lust, as he moved his slick covered fingers to rub your clit. The small, tight circles cause your thighs to shake. “Answer me, pretty.”

“R-Rin… need you.” you stutter, feeling the familiar warmth in your stomach building up. You were so close, his fingers entering you once again and curling into your sweet spot. He grins at you, his face wet from your cunt, as he leans to press a kiss to your swollen lips. “Rin! I’m-”

“I know, baby. I got you.” he coos, going in and out of you faster. Just as you were about to reach your high, his fingers slip out of you. A mischievous grin plastered on his face, as he sucks on his fingers. You groan, covering your face and pressing your thighs together. “Ah… Ah…” He pushes your thighs apart with his body, unbuckling his belt and pulling himself out. “Thought you needed me?” He pouts, pumping himself slowly.

“I- Rin. Please, I was so close-” you whine, eyes pressed to his thick cock near your entrance.

“Spit on it.” you obey him, pursuing your lips to let the liquid fall onto his dick. He pumps himself, moaning and grabbing your face with his other hand. “Now tell me, pretty. What do you need?”

“Y-you.” you whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes as you unbutton his shirt. He places a sloppy kiss on your lips, breathing heavily when your cold hands replace his as you jerk him off. “Bend over for me.” His dark eyes watched you scramble off the counter, slipping your panties off and leaning over the sink. Your pretty face in the mirror looking back at him with pleading eyes as he rubs his cock against your cunt. He moans, pushing into you slowly, throwing his head back when he bottoms out. He stills, basking in the warmth of your plush walls.

“Fuck, Rin, move.” you huff, trying to relieve yourself.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy the moment?” he responds, gripping onto your hips tightly.

“Yeah, but- Fuck!” you moan at his sharp thrusts, a smile tugging at his lips as he pulls you back and forth on his dick. “Sorry, bunny. Couldn’t wait.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the steady pace of his thrusts driving you close to your peak once again. You reach your hand down to your clit, but Suna slaps your hand away. You look up at him in the mirror, his loving eyes boring into you, as he rubs at your clit in fast circles.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well, baby.” he praises, his head falling back, letting his moans get louder the closer he gets. “Gonna cum in you, fill you up, and make you a pretty mama.”

“Fuck- Suna, don’t- WHAT THE FUCK?” you scream, feeling the fullness of his dick leave your dripping cunt.

“Who the fuck is Suna?” he giggles to himself, his dick grinding in between your folds at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Rin, c’mon- shit!” you bite your lip, your walls clenching around him as he kneads your ass.

“Good girl.” he coos, one hand on your hip and the other pulling your dress down to let your breast fall out. He moans, gripping at the soft flesh. “You gonna let me cum in you, baby?”

“Yes, fuck… don’t stop.” you hum, your brain starting to fog up as you near your release.

“S-shit, ‘M gonna.” he hisses, feeling your walls clench as you ride out your orgasm. Your fucked out expression and loud screams of his name was enough to have him spilling into you. He moans out your name, leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your shoulder, before pulling out and watching him spill out of you.

“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” you pant, looking up at the mirror to him snapping a photo of the two of you. “Rin!”

“What? It’s a good memory!” he defends, taking several photos from different angles before lifting you up and setting you down on the counter. He shoves himself back into his pants, tucking his shirt and buckling belt before averting his attention to you. Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses you softly, mumbling sweet words into your lips. He breaks away to dampen a towel, wiping you down as you scroll through the many pictures he took. A loud knock breaks the atmosphere, followed by annoyed screams.

“Have some fucking decency, some people need to use the bathroom!”

You both look at each other, laughing loudly before putting yourselves together. Suna adjusts his shirt, leaving the top buttons open and ruffling his hair. You slip into your underwear, smoothing out your dress and reapplying your lipstick. He gives your ass a light slap before opening the door and exiting, his eyes flicker between the couple outside. Suna’s lips twitch, realizing who the man leaning against the wall is. A smug expression spreads across his face, as he reaches his hand out for you.

“Sorry your sex life’s so boring.” he grins. You grasp his hand, walking out and nodding to the couple, recognizing the familiar set of eyes that you once adored.

“Sorry about that, bathroom's all yours.”

You squeeze Suna’s hand twice, a signal the two of you made up for when you’re feeling anxious. He quickly wraps his arm around your waist, pressing you into his side and placing a soft kiss onto your head. He hums quietly, leading the two of you out of the banquet hall and out to the garden. You stop at a bench, overlooking the city. The soft chirps of crickets and Suna’s intoxicating scent grounds you, a sense of relief washing over you.

“Fuck high school reunions, can’t believe you wanted to come here.” he jokes, pulling you onto his lap and holding you.

“Oh, shut up. You loved every minute of it.” you nuzzled into his chest.

“Particularly the bathroom part.” he hummed. “You okay?”

You sighed happily into his chest, nodding in response.

“So, tell me, what did the side bang do for you?”

“Shut the fuck up, Rintaro.” you hiss, getting up from his grasp, only for him to pull you back and attack your neck with kisses. Your laugh fills his ears, followed by your small fists punching his arm lightly in an attempt to get him to stop tickling you. A blush creeps onto his cheeks, the overwhelming feeling of love feels his body. He pauses his attack, your love laced insults about how irritating he could be was music to his ears. You’d never admit it to Suna, but you were glad he dragged you here. Seeing how his usual deadpan expression changed every time you were talked about made your heart swell. Maybe these things weren’t that bad, as long as he was by your side.

reblogs/likes appreciated <3

#suna smut #suna rintaro smut #suna rintaro x reader #suna x female reader #suna rintaro drabbles #suna drabble #suna rintarou #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #hq suna #suna fluff #suna rintaro fluff #suna x you #suna rintaro #haikyu x reader

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lovesickarmin · 4 years ago

Note

can you write something for the aot boys (eren, armin, jean, connie) where the reader is kinda in a mood or has an attitude towards them and they try to figure out if they did something but it’s just because the reader is cranky and misses them ;( i just saw a meme that said “girls really catch an attitude just cause they miss you” and it got me thinkin

oh my goood, nonnie. i felt this in my bones fhsqsiufuhua.

i’m so sorry i took so long posting this. i’ve only ever written for armin so I hope I did the other boys justice and you enjoy <3. (this is way longer than i anticipated lol i have no self control)

Eren:

7 days. One whole week.

That’s how long it’s been since you’ve seen your boyfriend in person. You knew about his vacation plans for months, but no amount of notice was going to make being apart any easier for you.

He promised he’d call and facetime whenever he could, but so far you’ve only gotten good morning/night texts and the occasional picture of whatever activity he and his friends were getting up to that day. It' better than nothing. And you knew he was just busy enjoying himself, but God you were missing him like crazy. And his lack of communication wasn’t helping.

You’re laying in your bed, snuggling up in one of his hoodies, awaiting his call. He swore this morning he would facetime you as soon as he got back to the hotel. You check the time again. 11:32PM. All you want is to hear his voice. And the longer you wait, the more you can feel your longing for him morphing into resentment. Why was this seemingly so much harder for you than it was for him? Didn’t he want to talk to you? Did he even miss you at all?

You’re about to give up and turn in for the night when you hear your phone ring. You let your phone ring for a few moments before you answer, staring at your favorite picture of him lighting up the screen. You take in a deep breath and as soon as you hit the green accept button, and his smiling face fills your screen.

“Hey babe,” he says. Although you can barely hear him over the laughter and chattering in the background.

“Hey stranger,” you say, forcing a smile, “What’ve you been up too?”

You listen as he describes what’s been keeping him so occupied the past week. He talks about the sights he’s seen, the different restaurants he’s been to, the various parties he and his friends crashed. And you try to be happy for him. And you are, really! He deserves this time away, having fun with his friends. But there’s still this aching feeling in your chest when he keeps looking away from you to look at whatever’s going on behind his phone screen in the hotel room.

“Enough about me though,” he says, refocusing on you, “What’ve you been up to?”

“Oh, well, not much really. I’ve been working on this presentation I have to give this Thurs—”

You cut yourself off when Eren bursts out laughing at something that’s happening in the background. You stare at him in silence as he pulls himself together, the frustration bubbling in your gut.

“Sorry babe,” he says after a few moments, still trying in vain to stifle his laughter, “What were you saying?”

“Nothing. Just forget it.”

The change in your tone doesn’t go unnoticed. One of his eyebrows quirks up as he focuses back on you.

“Nah, c’mon. What did you say?” he probes, leaning closer to his screen to try to hear you better.

“I said, forget it,” you snap, “You’re clearly preoccupied with something more important.”

He stares you down through the screen, and despite feeling a bit intimidated you stare back, matching his intensity. You hear him mumble something as he stands up. You watch him as he walks out of the shared common room of the hotel room and out onto the balcony. He closes the sliding glass door behind him, muffing the chaos on the other side. He sits down on one of the metal chairs and sighs.

“Okay, the hell is your problem?” he asks, annoyance clear in his tone.

“I don’t have a problem, Eren.”

“Yeah, you do. So, either tell me what’s up or I’m hanging up.”

You furrow your brows as you stare at his unamused expression. Eren’s never been one to beat around the bush, and he expected you to be the same way. He didn’t see a point in playing games, preferring to get to the point in situations like this. You know that him hanging up on you isn’t an empty threat, so you swallow your pride and tell him, but not without your admittance dripping in sarcasm of course.

“Hmm… let me think,” you tap your chin with your finger, “Maybe it has to do with the fact I haven’t seen let alone have a real conversation with my boyfriend in over a week? Yeah, yeah... that might have something to do with it...”

You watch as his face drops, his expression shifting from annoyed to guilty.

“Ah, shit… I’m really sorry babe. I’ve honestly just been busy. Armin wrote up a schedule for the whole trip that’s like, from the moment we wake up to when we sleep. I barely have time to squeeze in taking a piss,” he laughs to himself, “But I’ll be better for the rest of the trip, okay?”

“You promise?” you ask, your pout still present.

“I promise,” he says, a smirk spreading on his face that causes you to scoff.

“What’re you smiling at?” you ask, your brows furrowing.

“Just the fact that you’re missin’ me so much that you’re turning into a little brat,” he admits, his voice deepening.

You feel your cheeks warm, and your eyes widen. “N-no, I’m—”

“My good girl, right?”

You swallow the lump growing in your throat before you nod your head, trying to ignore the pressure building behind your eyes.

“If you are, then drop the attitude and just say that,” he chuckles a bit as he leans back in the chair.

“Mhmm…” you hum, wiping the tears that threaten to spill, “Miss you so much, Ren.”

“I miss you too, crybaby. Now tell me about that presentation you’re working on.”

Armin:

These last few days it’s almost felt like Armin’s disappeared from the face of the Earth. Of course, he had let you know to expect this from him. Finals week has always been a stressful time for any college student, but Armin took it to a whole new level. Besides you, there wasn’t anything he took more seriously than his academics.

You’ve texted him a handful of times the past few days. The occasional good morning, hope you’re having a good day, remember to eat/drink something. But he hadn’t responded much. And you tried to not let it get to you, but it’s so hard to go from talking to someone all day every day to basically not at all overnight.

When you ran into him by chance on campus yesterday you were elated. You practically begged him to spend some time with you today, and he said he would try to find time between classes and studying. You planned on having a picnic in the park where you had your first date.

So now you’re packing a couple sandwiches and some pieces of fruit into a basket. You even bought some paint supplies so that you could paint together after you eat. You’re almost finished packing when your phone dings. You smile to yourself when you see Armin’s name on your screen, but it slowly fades once you read his text.

Min 💙: Hey sweetheart. Is it okay if we postpone our date? Some of my classmates are gonna go have a study session at the library, and I said I’d go with them :)

You stare at the screen and disappointment washes over you. You look over at the basket you just packed and sigh. You’re not really surprised, but you can’t help but feel letdown. You re-read his text and frown when you realize that he’s not really asking to postpone your date so much as he’s telling you that he is. He’s already decided to commit to other plans.

Your thumbs hover over the screen as you contemplate what to say. Eventually your frustration gets the better of you and you settle on a response.

You: Ok

You throw your phone on your bed and start to disassemble the picnic basket, placing the food you prepared back in the mini fridge in the corner of your dorm room and the paint supplies on your desk.

Your phone dings again, another text from Armin.

Min 💙: Are you sure you’re okay if I go with them?

You roll your eyes as you type back a reply.

You: It’s fine.

You turn off your ringer and place your phone on your desk. You felt prepared enough for your upcoming exams, and you didnt think you could focus on studying even if your wanted to. You decide to curl up on your bed and watch one of your comfort shows on your laptop. You're a few episodes in when you here a soft tapping on your door.

You crawl out of bed with a sigh and open the door to see Armin standing with two cups of Boba in his hands. You stare at him with your arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe.

“Um… Hi,” he says after a few moments of awkward silence and prolonged eye contact.

“Hi… what’re you doing here?” you ask, still unmoving from the doorway.

“Well… I uh, got Boba on the way to the library and thought you might want some. And... I also had the feeling you were upset with me,” he says, worry plastered over his face.

“And why would you think that?” you raise one of your eyebrows.

“You were kinda short with me over text. Then you stopped replying all together.”

You reach for your phone and see 3 unread texts from him lighting up your screen. You feel your cheeks start to burn as you look down at your feet, a twinge of guilt panging in your stomach. It’s hard to be mad someone like Armin, someone so sweet and attentive (under normal circumstances).

“I was just really looking forward to our date, you know?" you mumble, "Haven’t gotten to see you much lately so… I’ve missed you.”

Armin whispers your name, and you look back up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he says genuinely, “I know I’ve been really focused on our exams lately. It’s just that I really need to do well. Not just so I can get on the deans list or whatever, but… I need to do well so I can get a good job. I just… want to be able to provide for us after we graduate.”

Your eyes widen and your arms fall to your sides, “For us?”

“Of course,” he says, a small smile spreading across his flushed face, “I mean, obviously you’re incredible and independent and won’t need me to provide for you but I—"

You cup is face in your hand and kiss him softly. You pull away and take one of the drinks from his hand.

“I love you, you know that?”

His blush deepens as he nods his head, “Y-yeah. And you know I love you too, right?”

You nod, biting your lip as you smile.

“You better get going. You friends are gonna wonder where you are.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, looking down at his watch, “I’ll be back later though, okay? We can have a night-picnic, if that's something you'd be interested in.”

You giggle, leaning forward to kiss him once more, “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Jean:

The sunshine coming through the curtains of your bedroom eases you awake. You yawn and rub the sleep out of your eyes as you roll over onto your side. When you finally open your eyes you’re met with the glorious view of your husband sleeping peacefully beside you. You watch as his bare chests rises and falls with his slow, steady breathing. You haven’t gotten this view in weeks, and you’re cherishing every second of it.

His recent promotion at work has been keeping him away from you. The most you’ve seen him is when he gently nudges you awake at some ungodly hour in the morning to kiss your forehead and wish you a good day, and when he comes home late in the evenings to eat dinner with you and go to bed shortly after. You’ve been trying your hardest to be patient with him. You’re sure he’s exhausted picking up the pieces of the person who’s job he took over. And you can’t even remember the last day he had off. But you missed your husband dearly, and you had never envisioned a life with him where his work took precedence over your relationship.

So when he had told you last night that he was finally going to have today off, you were ecstatic. Jean works so hard for you, and you want today to be all about him. You want to show him how much you appreciate him. What better way to start off his day than breakfast in bed?

You carefully roll out of bed, careful to not make much noise when you tip toe out of the bed room and into the kitchen. You bust out all his favorites; pancakes, bacon, eggs just the way he likes them, and a mug of coffee. Just before the bacon is done frying, an idea pops into your head. You giggle to yourself when you creep back into the bedroom, slowly opening one of your dresser drawers to get out one of Jeans favorite lingerie pieces you own.

You make your way to the bathroom and freshen up as you slip on the white, lacy set. You decide to top your look off by putting on the frilly apron you got from one of your friends during your bridal shower. You return to the kitchen to plate up his breakfast, even getting out a small silver tray to serve it on. You’re pouring the coffee into his favorite mug when you hear footsteps coming from the bedroom.

You turn around with a playful pout, “Awh, I was just about to—”

You cut yourself off when you see Jean in a frazzled state, his phone nudged between his ear and shoulder as he tries to put on his tie and shoes at the same time.

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll be there in twenty,” he says into the phone as he walks past you to grab his car keys. He shoves his phone back into his pocket at he turns to you with an apologetic smile. “Got called in. I guess they’re having trouble faxing some reports to our main office.”

You frown as you look between your husband and the tray of food in your hands.

“But… I made you breakfast…” you trail off, your frown deepening.

Jean looks down at the tray like he hadn’t noticed it yet, his eyes widening as he walks over.

“It looks great, doll. Thank you,” he smiles before he kisses your cheek, his eyes shifting to his watch, “But I gotta go. Um, just put it in the fridge and I’ll heat it up when I get back.”

Your heart aches when he walks past you towards the front door. You can’t help but let the repressed frustration flow through you. You stomp over to the trashcan and dump the food you had just made into the bin. The noise catches Jeans attention and he turns around, shock written all over his face.

“Honey?”

You storm out of the kitchen and back into the bedroom, tugging at the bow you tied behind your back to keep the apron from revealing what you had on underneath. You try to keep your tears at bay, but when you hear Jean’s footsteps following you it’s nearly impossible.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” he asks, softly grabbing one of your wrists and turning you around to face him. It’s always amazed you how even though he’s so much bigger than you, he’s always so gentle towards you. Like he’s afraid of breaking you.

You can feel your lower lip tremble and a few tears roll down your cheeks as you look up at him. You try to look away from him when you see his concerned face. He cups your cheeks with his hand and brushes your tears away with his thumbs.

“It’s n-nothing,” you stutter out, “You’re going to b-be late.”

“I don’t care about that right now,” he says, trying desperately to get you to look at him in the eyes, “Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

You finally meet his gaze, and while he still looks worried, he smiles softly at you.

“We haven’t gotten to spend any time together since you got this new job,” you start, “And I know it’s important to you, but when you said you had today off I was so excited…” you voice cracks and the tears start flowing faster, “I-I just m-miss you so much when you’re gone.”

Jean doesn’t miss a beat. He caresses your face with one hand while he grabs his phone with the other. You watch as he dials a number and holds the phone to his ear. He keeps his eyes on you the entire time. You can hear a muffled voice come through the other end of the call.

“Hey, yeah it’s me. Look uh, an emergency just popped up and I’m not gonna be able to make it in,” your eyes widen and you hear a frantic voice on the other end of his call, “Yeah… yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll be in on Monday. Okay, you too. Bye.”

He ends the call and you stare up at him in shock.

“You didn’t need to do that, Jean,” you whisper.

“Yeah, I did. My girl needs me, that’s an emergency in my book,” he says, chuckling as he dries the rest of your tears.

He leans down and kisses you tenderly. You deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulls away from you after a few moments and you smile dreamily at him.

“M’sorry I threw your breakfast away…” you whisper, biting on your lower lip when you let your arms fall back to your sides.

The apron you had been wearing falls off your shoulders and onto the ground. Jeans cheeks immediately deepen to a dark shade of pink as his eyes travel over your body. His hands grip your hips as he pulls your body flush against his.

“It’s okay, doll. With you dressed like this, it would’ve gotten cold anyway.”

Connie:

You really have no one but yourself to blame. You were the one who decided to buy your boyfriend the recently released game he had been talking about for months as a surprise 2-year anniversary present. The way he jumped up and down and peppered kisses all over your face in between countless ‘thank yous’ was totally worth it at first. But now it’s been about a week, and practically every moment of free time Connie has is spent in front of the tv with a controller in his hand.

You knew that he loved gaming. It was actually one of the first things you two had bonded over. And the first few days that he spent engrossed in the game actually made you really happy. Seeing him enjoy the gift you gave him so much made brought a smile to your face. Especially when he would play online with his friends, his laughter echoing through the small apartment you shared together.

But now, even with him at arm’s reach, you’ve started to feel a bit lonely. The evenings you would usually spend cuddled up watching your favorite shows, or going out to your favorite arcade and restaurants, were now being spent on opposite sides of the couch. You knew he liked when he you watched him play, he swore you were his good luck charm and that he played better when you were next to him.

Earlier in the evening you tried to talk with him, to tell him about your day but after a few one worded, clearly distracted replies from him, you gave up. You’re leaning on the arm of the couch, your chin resting in the palm of your hand as he laughs hysterically at something Eren said. Your eyes flick to your phone, the bright white 1:27AM almost taunting you on top of one of the dozens of pictures you’ve taken with your boyfriend over the years.

“Connie,” you say, reaching over to tap his arm.

“Hmm?” he hums, adjusting his headset so one ear is uncovered.

“You think you’re gonna get off soon? I thought maybe we could watch a movie or something,” you say, leaning forward to try to look at him in the eyes.

“Umm,” he moves his mic away from his face and keeps his eyes locked on the screen in front of him, “Yeah, we could do that after I finish this round.”

He moves his mic back towards his face and curses at the opposing team. You decide then that you’re over it. When he had said the same thing yesterday ‘one more round’, turned into two and then three and so on. You sigh and stand up. You glace at him once more before you walk in front of the screen and towards your shared bedroom.

“Hey, where ya going?” Connie asks, pulling off his headset completely and turns to look at you.

“Bed.”

He watches you walk to the bedroom and close the door behind you. He slips his headset back on for a moment just to tell his friends he’s getting off for the night before he goes after you. When he creaks open the door, he sees you curled up in bed with the blanket over your head.

He shuffles over to your side of the bed and moves the blanket to see your face. He smiles at you, and you glare back, turning around to face the other way.

“Whoa, what? What’s wrong babe?” he asks, walking to the other side of the bed to try to face you again. But you turn around once again, pulling the covers over your head in the process.

“Baaabe,” he whines, falling into the bed next to you and wrapping his arms around you. “Talk to meee.”

“Oh, you wanna talk to me now?” you mumble into the blanket.

“Duh, dummy. I want to talk to you all the time,” he says, pulling some of the blanket over him so that his body can wrap around yours without any barrier. “Turn around,” he whispers into the crook of your neck.

You hesitate at first but finally turn to face him. Since you’re both under the blanket you can’t really see one another, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, trailing his fingers up and down your arm.

“I don’t’ know… I guess I just… missed you.”

“Huh? You missed me? But you were right next to me,” he chuckles.

“Well, yeah, but you hardly talked or even looked at me all night. I just feel like we haven’t had real quality time lately.”

“Oh, I’m sorry babe,” Connie says as he pulls you closer to him and kisses up your shoulder and neck, “I’ve been pretty focused on the game, huh?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, resting your hands on his chest.

“Well I’m here now, yeah? Wanna watch that movie?”

You smile and hum in agreement. You both get situated under the blanket, Connie on his back and your head resting on his chest. He pulls his phone out from his pocket and holds it above the two of you, causing the blanket to drape over the both of you. He pulls up the movie you mentioned in passing the other day, and kisses the top of your head as it starts to play.

#eren x reader #eren x you #eren yeager #armin x reader #armin x you #armin arlert #jean x reader #jean x you #jean kirschtien #connie x reader #connie x you #connie springer #aot x reader #nonnie 💗

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years ago

Text

Babysitter

Harry Gardner x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: infidelity, cheating which is a HUGE no no but for the purposes of the fic I made Harry and Doris more strained and Doris isn’t pregnant

Author’s Note: I have a hard time with cheating but I couldn’t not do babysitter and Harry lol. I hope you enjoy!

Requested: by anon, omgggg that harry fic was so good and just what i had hoped for!! thank you sm!!! ☺️😫😫 also as you asked i am now here to also request harry x babysitter!reader ☺️☺️

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

In your defense, you were in between jobs. You had just gotten out of college and you had quit your day job as you got more and more interviews for your desired field. But it was taking longer than you had anticipated and you didn’t really have time to find a job that was going to be a long term thing so you did the first thing you thought of.

Babysitting.

It was easy, you could just pick up one family and you could drop them again when you got a full time job. Hopefully it wouldn’t take that long.

You put out a few feelers and got a call from Doris Gardner, asking if you would come and meet her and her family. You were happy someone called and on the phone Doris sounded like a decent lady. Not crazy like some of the people in this town.

You stood in front of the house. You weren’t sure who had lived there before they moved in but the house was nice and rustic. Fit into the town nice. The door opened and you put a smile on your face before you even saw who it was.

“Oh hello! You must be the babysitter. Y/N right?” a man asked you kindly. You were a bit struck by his beauty for a moment. You had seen pretty people in your life but no one like him, not in this town. You cleared your throat and nodded.

“Hi! Yes, Doris called me to come and meet her?”

“I’m the dad, Harry. Come on in, Doris will be here in a second.” You nodded and walked past him into the house. The indoor was a little rough. There were random colored tiles around the counters, carpet pieces, and some floral prints. Clearly someone was trying to redecorate. Trying and slightly failing but hey, maybe it just wasn’t your taste.

“So how many kids do you have?” you asked.

“Just the one. Alma. She’s nine.” You nodded once and turned around to look at him.

“That makes my job easy. If I get the job,” you said, laughing gently. “What do you do?”

“I’m a writer. Screenplays,” he explained. Your eyes went wide.

“That’s really awesome! I love movies. Anything I would have seen?” He put his hands in his front pants pockets.

“Probably not. I’ve done a few pilots but nothing’s stuck quite yet. That’s why we’re out here, I’m hoping to find some inspiration,” he explained. You smiled gently and looked out the back window. There was a nice view of the water. He got lucky.

“Well I hope you find some sort of inspiration. It’s quiet out here but we get tons of writers. I think it’s the charm and the interesting cast of characters,” you admitted. He smiled a bit.

“How interesting?” You shrugged.

“I just got back from college so it’s been a minute since I lived here for very long. But we’ve got the crackheads which aren’t as two dimensional as people think. The famous writers who come down. Rich people who hole up here and refuse to go to the grocery stores. Regular people like me, just trying to get by. Everyone’s got a story Harry Gardner, you just gotta dig in,” you explained.

Harry liked you immediately. You had a descriptive mind and a mysterious aura. You were alluring.

“Harry, is that the babysitter?” you heard a female voice from upstairs. She came down quickly, turning around the stairs to look at you. You gave her a kind smile and she gave you one back as she approached you.

“Yeah, this is Y/N. We were just talking about the town.”

“I’m born and raised, I was just trying to give him some writing inspiration,” you explained as you shook her hand. She let out a sigh of relief.

“He could use it. I just wanted to talk to you in person about Alma and make sure you weren’t a crackhead,” she said, laughing a bit nervously. “I can assure you, I’m not. I have references, granted it’s been a couple years since I babysat. I’ve done other jobs since then though.” You handed Doris the paper you had printed out and she took it easily, looking it over.

“Perfect. You know, I don’t really think I need to look over these much. Harry and I want to go out soon and you seem like a nice woman. Would you like to meet Alma?”

“Sure!”

“Alma!” Doris called. You waited in silence for a moment as a child came pouncing down the stairs. You smiled gently at her, though her resting face seemed quite intimidating. “Alma, this is the babysitter, Y/N.”

“I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself.”

“You’re right,” you said. “Think of me as someone who’s here in case of emergencies and to make you food. Like a maid.”

“Oh don’t give her ideas,” Harry said, laughing.

Alma looked you over and crossed her arms. You all waited in uncomfortable silence for a moment.

“Do you like the violin?”

“I’ve never played but I love the sound. It’s beautiful.” She nodded once.

“I can deal with her.” Doris rolled her eyes.

“Be nice Alma. I’m sorry, she’s forward.” You shook your head.

“It’s alright. I like forward people. Keeps me from guessing.” Harry gave you a lingering look. Suddenly he wanted to write something.

===

“I really think you should wear that one. It compliments your eyes,” your friend said, pointing to the other outfit you had out. You scoffed.

“It’s just a stupiud club, it doesn’t matter this much,” you tried to remind yourself. You were about to say something else when your phone rang. You and your friend looked over at your buzzing phone as you picked it up.

“Who is it?”

“Harry Gardner,” you said before picking up. Your friend raised her eyebrows, giving you a suggestive look. You waved her off, putting the phone to your ear. “Hey Harry, what’s up?”

“I’m sorry to call you so unexpected but do you think you could come over tonight?”

“Sure. Are you and Doris going out?” He was silent for a second.

“Just come over.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.” You hung the phone up. “Looks like I’m babysitting tonight, oh darn.” Your friend rolled her eyes.

“You’ve been babysitting for the dilf next door for a whole month and you haven’t made a move and for what?!” she asked. You put the clothes down on your bed to put away when you got back.

“He’s married.”

“Yeah to a wife that practically resents him and he resents her. Don’t act like that isn’t true, the whole town can see it.” You hit her gently as you passed her.

“Get out of my apartment. Lock up when you leave.”

===

You got to the Gardners in under twenty minutes. You knocked on the door and it opened almost instantly like Harry was waiting for you on the other side.

“Hey Harry. It’s pretty late, where are you guys-”

“Doris is asleep. So is Alma.” You tried to hide the surprise on your face. You stepped inside and the door shut behind you.

“What did you need me here for then?”

“Can you be objective?”

“I can try.” He grabbed your hand and led you into the living room. His laptop was out and opened, the cursor blinking at the bottom of the page. He sat down on the couch and gently moved your hand down so you sat next to him. He handed you the computer. You cleared your throat. “Are you sure-”

“Yes.”

You nodded once and looked down at the laptop. You squinted and scrolled up. You began to read the couple of pages he had there. The writing flowed well. You were instantly impressed with his pose and tone. You weren’t sure what he was writing but it seemed to be a script of some sort about a woman, fresh out of college, falling in love with someone who could never have her.

You began to grow annoyed at how well he hit your emotions.

When you finished you looked up at him.

“Harry…”

“You’re the inspiration. You’re what I needed,” he said.

“This is really good,” you admitted. “The writing is beautiful. You have a gift.”

“Will you say something about the content?” You looked away from him and out at the water in the darkness. You looked back at him.

“I can’t say you’re wrong,” you breathed.

He leaned forward, turned his head and kissed you. You couldn’t ignore how good his lips felt against yours. You put your hand gently on his cheek.

Harry hadn’t been kissed like that in a long time. Like someone truly loved him and wanted to know him, know more about him. You pulled away gently, putting your forehead against his. You pulled away completely.

“You don’t get anything more until this scene is finished.”

He scoffed, leaning back on the couch.

“You’re good. You’re really good.”

AHS Tag List: @russian-soft-bitch

#harry gardner x reader #harry gardner imagines

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harryskalechips · 4 years ago

Text

one and done Part 3

A/N Hey guys so sorry for a late update but here we are!!!! The last part of the series! I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys enjoyed as well! Let me know what you guys think please and also also also thank you for reading!🥰🥰🥰

Side note: I’ll come back and edit my brain hurts

Harry is engaged and having a baby but Y/N is just his best friend’s little sister.

Today’s warning: We are anticipating some heavy smut in this last part. Please prepare for a spitting, spanking, choking, and hair pulling kink, Male receives oral, unprotected sex and just shit like that y’know? I think there is begging in here too LOL OMG they almost had sex outside again but that’s just so inappropriate but yeah... I think that’s all. Oh yes, Y/N rides and just loves being a horny mess hehehe

Word Count: 11k // Masterlist // one and done PLAYLIST / Part 1 / Part 2

If there was one thing Y/N was excited about… it was her last summer of high school. As she reflected on her junior year, she was happy Harry and her were finally in a place where she could just reach out to him and be comfortable. Although they didn’t have labels, it was the last thing on their minds as they spent most of their free time together away from Ryan and any other nosy classmate of theirs. Harry also spoke about long roadtrips. Despite him staying home for college, he was excited to drive his girl to different campuses and check out new destination sites around the many different cities.

They were optimistic they would stay together in the summer yet here they are spending it apart.

Y/N was in her bedroom sitting on the floor wearing Harry’s sweater as she was staring at the pile of scattered clothes on the floor. It was July 6th and even after a month of grieving for her broken heart, she managed to still wear her ex’s sweater… only because it was the sole object that made her feel like what they had was real.

They were so on and off throughout the year and the one time they managed to stick together, it was all washed away. Too many signs telling them they were not meant to be.

But that’s the truth. Y/N thinks to herself as she wipes away a new coming tear falling down her face. Harry and her are not the cliché plot of dating your brother’s best friend. Their relationship was based on lust and ended with unrequited feelings. They are not soulmates. Y/N rests her head against the back of her bed. No matter how much you try to fight it, if you are not meant to be… that’s it.

“Are you okay?” Ryan stops by her doorway with a plate of late dinner. He was also blatantly oblivious to the fact his little sister was wearing a sweater of his best friend’s.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” She stares at him with an unamused expression on her face. Her room was a mess, her head was in places where it shouldn’t be and her heart just felt broken.

“You’ve been in a pissed off mood since last month.” he genuinely states as he walks into his little sister’s room. Maybe before he wouldn’t bother to ask Y/N how she was but the truth is, he is leaving soon and he’s a bit worried with the way Y/N has been taking care of herself.

“Is it that obvious?” Y/N sarcastically laughs as she throws some clothes away for Ryan to sit on her bed. He places his plate on her desk and takes her offer as he looks around the floor.

“You haven’t left the house nor have I seen Ness around.”

“I haven’t really been speaking to her.”

“Oh so you guys fought?”

“No, we didn’t. I just haven’t really been feeling social.”

“Y/N, you know you can talk to me right?”

“I know.” Y/N bites the inside of her cheek knowing full well that she’s lying.

“Will you be coming to the party tomorrow night?” Oh, that’s right. It’s Harry and Carla’s engagement party.

“That’s why I’m cleaning out my closet.” Ryan laughs a bit as he stands up and pats her head.

“You don’t have to impress anyone. You’re not the one getting married.” Y/N feels her throat tighten a bit as she watches him leave her room with his plate. She lets out a sigh before rubbing her face in frustration. If she had the choice, she wouldn’t go but that would also show Harry that she cares more than he thinks. It’s been a month and she had to prove that she was over him and over the deal.

After a couple hours of sulking on her bedroom floor, she finally stands up and takes off his sweater. In the corner of her room is a cardboard box of clothes that were to be packed away and stored in the attic. Without hesitation, she throws the piece of clothing and carries on with her night.

“Y/N, you look beautiful sweetheart.” Her mom waits for her at the bottom of the stairs. The sun was just about to set and it was also time for their family to drive to Carla’s home for the party everyone has been anticipating.

“Thank you.” Y/N musters a smile as she glances at herself in the mirror one more time before heading out to the car. Her mom was honestly surprised her daughter was all dressed up for the party tonight, there was something off about her but today, it felt like she had a piece of her daughter back again. Saying nothing out loud, she locks the front door and walks with the young girl towards the vehicle.

Truth be told last night before Y/N fell asleep, she knew today would be her biggest performance. All she knew is that she couldn’t wait for this day to end so she can go back and hide in her room.

“Hey mate.” Harry smirks as he offers a hug to Ryan. The party had just begun and Harry waited outside the house to wait for his best man to arrive. He was shitting his pants at the moment and the only thing that would make him feel a bit more comfortable at his own party is if Ryan was by his side -like the usual.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married, Haz.” Ryan tries to hide his disappointment in front of his family. Y/N and her parents stood behind him waiting for the duo to greet each other first. “I thought we would enjoy our bachelor era a bit you know… longer.” Harry tries to laugh as he makes eye contact with the pretty girl. Once the two pull away, he awkwardly laughs and greets Ryan’s parents.

“Carla is it for me man.” Harry tucks his hands inside the pockets of his trousers. “We’ve been together since grade school, I guess it’s time I tie her down to me forever.” Y/N’s mom laughs and pats his shoulder. The five began to walk to the backyard as she spoke up.

“Forget Ryan, I think you two make a lovely couple and are honest soulmates.” Harry glances at her and flashes a small smile. He thought having Ryan here would make him feel more comfortable but there was only one thought that was processing in his head as they walked the stoned pathway.

This engagement made him feel ten thousand times much worse knowing his in-law family wouldn’t be Ryan’s because the truth is there wouldn’t be anything much better than to have Y/N and Ryan’s parents as his too.

“Hi.” Carla approaches them with a warm smile on her face. The nude slim dress was impressive on her, especially as it made the diamond on her finger stand out more. She casually wraps her arm around Harry's waist as she takes a sip of the mango smoothie in her other hand. Although the smile on her face seemed genuine, Y/N wanted nothing more than to punch the girl’s face. If Harry was a jealous asshole, Y/N was much worse. Keep it together Y/N, please you don’t care. You don’t care.

That was the whole idea for the night anyway. Y/N has barely spoken a word since her father parked the car on the side of the road. She was even the last one to exit the vehicle because in all honesty, she didn’t want to unbuckle her seatbelt. Now, She stands beside her dad once again, shying away from the hosts of the party. Although her mom made her feel beautiful today, there was nothing more than to stand in front of the prettiest girl who has constantly been chosen over her.

“Thank you guys for coming. I’m so happy to meet you all.” Carla smiles as she turns her attention on Harry. She was happy and excited about their future. This whole night felt like a fever dream. Once more she looks at Ryan’s family and speaks up. “There’s a table for your family and dinner will be served out soon. I hope you guys enjoy” She rests her head on her fiancé but notices Y/N staring at her heels. “Are you okay Y/N? You seem a bit off.” And that statement was coming from a concerned person who was genuinely curious if the acquainted junior she got to know this year was alright. Y/N gulps as she makes eye contact with Carla. She was also very careful not to look at Harry.

“Ignore her. She’s been like that for a couple of weeks.” Ryan laughs as he turns around and glances at his sister. “This is your night but I still am wondering why you guys are getting married next month.”

Carla awkwardly smiles and waits for Harry to respond first yet she notices his eyes stay focused on his best friend’s little sister. “We just thought we should get the wedding out of the way before university starts.” Carla squeezes his palm for him to reply to.

“Don’t worry Ryan. I’m sure we’ll do everything we planned to do.” Harry smirks as he turns his back around to the music that just started to play. “Let’s walk you guys to your table, I believe the party is just about to actually begin.”

Throughout the night, Y/N did nothing more than fake a smile and applaud as speakers came to the mic and talked about Carla and Harry’s relationship. Blah blah blah. It was the same old thing really, and if she had the choice deep inside, she would wish she was the one sitting beside Harry talking about other things.

Dessert was finally available and due to the lack of activities and entertainment this party has brought to her, she waited until the line died down before she could carry her plate towards the table. She internally sighed as some of the choices were gone, leaving her to pick up a red velvet cupcake and two french macaroons on the side. Once she arrived back to her seat, her family that stayed back continued to talk about the two lovebirds. Her father and Ryan seemed to be having an amusing conversation as her mother made a new friend from the table beside them. Compliments after compliments was the only topic tonight, she really needed to take a walk around the unfamiliar neighbourhood after this.

“Guys, I’m just going inside to use the bathroom.” Her mom nods and acknowledges Y/N’s statement before turning her back once more to talk to another attendee of the party. Grabbing her purse, she excuses herself from the table and shyly walks around the party and towards the sliding door. Once she’s inside the home however, she ignores all the signs that gesture her towards the bathroom and instead makes her way to the front door. Carla’s home was pretty but not enough for her to stay.

“That’s not the washroom.” Harry speaks out as he walks down the staircase re-adjusting the sleeves of his polo. She realized the navy blue blazer he was wearing earlier today was now resting on the ottoman by the end of the railing.

“I was actually going to go on a walk.” She fixes her gaze on the painting in front of her instead of the boy casually making his way down.

“It’s a bit late, d-don’t you think.” He scratches his nose and picks up the article of clothing on the chair. He couldn’t help but stutter as his eyes followed the pink dress on the pretty girl.

“The neighbourhood seems really nice and I’m sure none of the rich families here are going to kidnap me and lock me in their basement.”

“Here.” She notices him walk towards her offering his blazer. “I would invite myself to walk with you but uh I think people would notice.” He rubs his palm against his neck and looks back at the door where the party is.

“It’s okay.” She shakes her head as she rejects his considerate offer. She continues to unlock the door before looking back at him. “I’ll be back soon. Ryan and my parents think I’m in the washroom. So if they ask, just say you don’t know. Congratulations, by the way.” She gives him a sad smile and walks out the door. He’s left speechless as he finally realizes this might be the last time things will be normal between them. “Fuck it.” He murmurs to himself as he rests the blazer behind his back and walks out the front door as well.

“Why are you following me?’ Y/N turns around carefully as she crosses her arms over her chest to keep herself warm. She was also trying very hard not to fall. Harry’s been distracting her all night, she didn’t realize she was wearing heels despite her goal to go on a night walk.

“Because I can’t let you walk around this neighbourhood by yourself!” Harry raises his voice as he tries to catch up with her. “God, I told you, you would need this.” He thoughtlessly puts the blazers over her shoulders as they walk down the slope.

“I promise you, I am not your responsibility anymore. You don’t have to be concerned about my whereabouts.” Y/N murmurs as she accepts the fabric and hugs it around her frame. Harry couldn’t help but look away from her as he heard that statement. Before everything went crumbling down, he used to pick her up and know every update from her. He used to watch out for her and just be there for her but even now, it was no longer okay.

“Who’s going to watch over you when I’m gone.” His voice is a bit more quieter now as they exit Carla’s neighbourhood.

“I don’t know. I always expected you were going to stay.” She glances at him before walking ahead of him.

“I know you’re mad and I’m sorry I had to put you through a lot.” He pulls her wrist to make her stop walking.

“How can I not be mad, Harry?” She closes her eyes, trying to not let the new formed tears in her eyes show. “You constantly choose Carla and the moment you finally break up with her. I get you and then you what… ghost me, break up with me? I don’t hear from you for 2 months only to find out you’re engaged! Fuck you.” She quickly wipes away a tear from her face. “God, I- You cheated on me! Didn’t you?”

“Y/N.” His heart beat drops as her voice raises. Never in his life has he seen Y/N this upset.

“No. It makes sense. Carla is barely even showing yet. It’s been three months and you…” She steps away from him and looks around. “I don’t know -you didn’t even have the audacity to tell me you don’t like me anymore.”

“I didn’t know how to react when you told me that.”

“Well you did.. You ignored my calls and continued to see Ryan.” She shrugs her shoulders and sarcastically laughs. “It’s fine. Now that I think about it, maybe I said it in the heat of the moment.”

“I know I messed up.” He bites his lip and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I reacted like that. Carla has always been so familiar to me… and with you, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”

“Like what?” The monotone question rolls off the tip of her tongue.

“The fear I guess. I’m scared of losing Ryan, your family and um, you.” He clears his throat. “It’s just there’s so much on the line when it comes to you and me. Maybe if I tried harder, we wouldn’t be here right now but we are.”

“Well if it makes you feel better,” She takes a pause and stares directly at him. “I didn’t really mean what I said that day. You freaked out on something that was a typical post orgasm statement.” She lies.

“Why are you lying?” He shakes his head in disappointment. “Why are you trying to hurt me? You think this hasn’t been difficult enough.”

“No, I’m not lying. It’s true.” She attempts to walk again but his hand grabs her immediately letting her know, their conversation is not over.

“So you’re saying you don’t love me.”

“No, I don’t love you.”

“Bullshit!”

“Harry, I don’t even owe you an explanation!” and sometimes when you force yourself to lie too much, you begin to cry. “Fuck.” He immediately hugs her as she cries on his shoulder. “I don’t think we should do this.”

“I could never leave you alone, you know that right?” He whispers in her ear as he wraps his arms tighter around her frame.

“You have to. We can’t do this.” Y/N repeats herself as she tries to pull away. His scent is just so fucking intoxicating. It was his scent that made her drastically attached to him and now she knew like from the start, it was time to go.

“If my wishes came true, it would’ve been you.” He tries to keep her in his embrace. He was rambling at this point but he had no idea what his goal was. Is he trying to persuade her to stay or to let her go?

“You made your choices, Harry. All you have to do is lie in it.” She pulls away and wipes away her tears. “We’re just these high schoolers that found a loophole in our deal. Carla though, she has always been the one for you.”

“You’re right though. I- I guess I always choose her in the end.”

“Make her happy H.” She gives a sad smile and shrugs her shoulders. Despite wanting to punch her face, Y/N knew the look in her eyes as she watched Harry. Carla was always madly in love with him and forever will be.

Harry and Y/N were just a glitch in the system.

“I hope I see you again. Maybe Christmas huh?” He looks down at his shoes as the girl gives him back his blazer.

“Maybe Christmas.” And without a word, Y/N walks back to the house leaving Harry to walk around the neighbourhood himself.

Harry and Carla had just gotten married and on the night of their reception, they announced their pregnancy. Y/N was there. She witnessed the smile on Ryan’s face, on her parents’ face and on Harry’s. Everyone was happy except for her.

The night left her to play with the food on her plate as it was her only source of entertainment. Broccoli grouped with the carrots suddenly being grouped with the steak. How about we make a snowman? To be honest, moping a bit too much at the event left her clueless to the fact the groom has been watching her all night.

It wasn’t a choice for him. Of course, he looked at other guests and spoke to Carla throughout the night but for some reason as he mindlessly ate his food and restated his vows to his wife, Y/N was the only thing his eyes could focus on. He’s been looking for her face in every room for a year and to be exact, nothing about his feelings has changed -Except tonight was the last day, he would ever feel like this again.

There were only three rules Harry gave himself tonight.

Rule 1: Don’t try and make conversation with Y/N.

Rule 2: Don’t beat the guy who offers her a dance.

Last but not least, Rule 3: Don’t tell her you love her.

And it was a success because he watched her walk out with an unfamiliar guy and come back with a flushed neck and red cheeks. He knew she totally got fucked in the washroom and all he did was take a sip of his glass as the fist on his lap began to form once again.

It’s been a week since and her whole house is a mess. She has been currently helping her brother move his things to the moving truck they rented. Her little grieving process was cut short due to the fact, things around her started to change so quickly. Ryan was on his way out of here. Harry and Carla were probably on an island, trying to make another sub baby and Ness started to come by more often.

The thing about her best friend is that Nessa understands space but she won’t let Y/N peacefully sulk for more than a month. To successfully distract her, the duo have been taking road trips around the cities and visiting different campuses together. Although it was an old plan of her and Harry’s, Y/N couldn’t help but feel delighted to have Ness back once again.

She cleaned out her room and removed all her old soccer trophies because for some odd reason, they reminded her of Harry. She even went to the measures of blocking his number and deleting pictures from their past dates off her phone.

She knew she wasn’t ready to let him go but he was now married, living in a new city with his own family. There was no other choice but to forget this shit happened.

Senior year was just about to begin for Y/N and if there was one thing she needed, it was a fresh start. No love interests, no heartbreaks. Just fun experiences before she leaves this hell hole.

After all, if you never bleed, you’re never going to grow.

3 years later…

“You’re going to be fucking late.” Ness throws a pillow at her best friend as she enters the room. “You have that plane to catch.”

“Fuck, what time is it.” Y/N murmurs as she could feel some drool on her pillow case.

“10:30.”

“Fuck!” She sits up immediately and grabs her phone. Her flight is leaving in an hour and God knows the traffic in Seattle. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner!”

“Because your lazy ass wouldn’t wake up.” Ness walks out of the room and drinks her coffee. She was totally unfazed about her best friend panicking. “Relax.” Y/N gives her a death glare in return as she brushes her teeth in the kitchen. The two were very used to each other since they’ve not only been best friends for a long time but also roommates after moving to a new city.

“My brother’s wedding is in two days and I’m not even there yet.”

“Tell Ryan to choke for not inviting me, by the way.” Ness scrolls though the news feed on her phone as she casually bites into her bagel.

“Okay, I think I have everything.” Y/N walks out of her room in tights and an oversized sweater. “I really have to go.”

“You’re going to see him again, you know that right?” Ness really didn’t want to be the one to bring him up again but shit, Y/N looked like a dead zombie.

“It’s fine.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders. She couldn’t care less if she sees Harry again. “The last time I saw him, Carla and him were acting like total love birds at my mom and dad’s thanksgiving party.”

“That was like two years ago.” Ness tries to contain her laugh as she remembers their new pet names. Honey bunny and sweet treat. Oh to be in the honeymoon phase once again.

“Don’t think I forgot what you used to call Tom.” Y/N laughs as she rolls her luggage to the door.

“Shut up.” Nessa’s eyes widen as she throws a crumb at her. “That’s why I broke up with him.”

“Yeah, yeah. You better answer my call okay?”

“Yes babe, I know. I love you, take care!”

“Bye!”

And after the long haul of successfully boarding the plane, Y/N had five hours before she could finally see Ryan and his soon to be bride in Boston.

She was definitely nervous. The last wedding she attended was Harry’s and she knew full well how she badly coped with that. Not to mention how she calculated her schedule so she could “accidently” miss Ryan’s engagement party. Truth is, she doesn’t care about Harry but if there was any way she could try and dodge another awkward encounter...that’s what living in another city is for.

He also wasn’t really an ex but just a person in her life who managed to make her happy and sad at the same time. James had no idea who he was since she believed it was best to make that portion of her adolescence a secret. Just buried along with the other dreams she used to have.

After watching two movies and playing a random phone game, the plane finally landed. Y/N managed to brush her teeth and make herself look a bit more presentable after a heated run out of her apartment. Once she was at the pick up centre to grab her luggage, her heart beat began to increase signaling that she failed to neutralize her anxiety. Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead as she walked past the crowd of people. There was a constant voice in her head screaming at her to tell Ryan her flight just got cancelled. Unfortunately, Ryan was on time as she could picture his figure right outside the window of the airport.

“Hey.” Ryan smiles as he gives his little sister a hug. He saw her a couple months ago but time still makes everything different. He’s happy his sister is finally here.

“Hi.” Y/N tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as the wind blows by them. “I see you got a nice haircut.”

“I did.” Ryan laughs as he carries his sister’s suitcase into his trunk.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married Ry! I swear to god, it was only yesterday you were complaining to Harry about his wedding.” Y/N squints her eyes due to the sun shining directly at her. She uses her hand to cover the side of her face as she lets out a joke,“Are you sure about her?”

“Meghan? Absolutely.” Ryan shuts the door as they stand there. “ I didn’t know what Haz was talking about when he told me he wanted to marry Carla but shit, when I met Meghan… I-”

“You’re whipped more than ever.” She smiles as she notices her brother’s cheeks flush. She tried to change the topic immediately after her brother said his name. “I knew Cassidy wasn’t the one.”

“Sure you did.” Ryan rolls his eyes as they sit in his car. “How about you? Any new updates?”

“No not really.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders as she puts on her seatbelt. “James and I have been together for a year now which is crazy-”

“I wish the guy could have come to the wedding, didn’t know how serious you guys were.”

“Honestly, if he didn’t have that internship at the hospital, I would’ve tried and persuaded him some more.”

“It’s okay.” Ryan laughs as he shakes his head. “Meghan found you a date already and I’m sure you’re going to be okay with it.” Y/N eyes widen.

“I was going to go stag.” She looks out the window in disbelief. It wasn’t her fault, her boyfriend was trying to get into medical school.

“Don’t worry sis. It’s a platonic date -that’s all it is going to be.” Ryan reassures her as he drives out of the parking lot.

“Let me tell James. Just in case, he might get jealous.” She pulls out her phone. “Who is this guy anyway?”

“I’m not telling you but who knows, James might fly over here just so you don’t go with a random guy.” Ryan smirks as he exits the highway.

“Who is he?”

“It’s a surprise.” Ryan tries to hide his laugh.

“Does he know you’re setting me up with him.”

“Please.” Her brother scoffs. “The guy is always too nice, he offered first.”

“Well, shit then.”

“You’ll get to know him before the wedding I promise. At least, you have company other than mom and dad.”

“So you’re going to let a random guy just sit at our table?”

“You have no idea.” And truth be told, Y/N wasn’t worried about the date Ryan and Meghan set up for her. Maybe it was one of Meghan’s family members who thought she was still single. It didn’t matter though because this event was for her brother and that’s all that was important.

“Oh my god!” Ryan and Y/N’s mother stood outside the house waiting at the driveway for them to arrive.

“Hi mom!” Y/N gives her a warm hug. “I missed you, where’s dad?”

“He’s inside with-”

“Y/N.” Y/N’s dad steps through the doorframe and meets Y/N at the steps for a hug as well. She knew her father couldn’t walk that much due to his recent hip surgery. What she didn't expect however, was for Harry to be following right behind him. “I missed you darling.”

“Hi dad I missed you more, I didn’t know Harry was here.” Y/N backs away and turns her back to look at Ryan. He didn’t seem surprised at all as he carried her luggage towards them.

“Hey.” Harry offers a small wave, seeming too quiet. He kept his hands behind his back as he observed the girl in front of him. It’s been two years and a lot has changed. Y/N thought he would still have his long hair yet it is very evident, he had a haircut as well. He also seemed much more muscular as well as the new addition of tattoos on his arm. While she stared at him, she didn’t realize Harry was noticing all the different features she had too. Her hair was longer and darker and she carried a different aura than before. She didn't look like the girl whose bedroom he used to sneak into.

“Hi Harry.” Y/N didn’t know how to start a conversation with him.

“I guess you met your date.” Ryan walks ahead of them and laughs as he continues to bring in the bags.

“Harry's my date?” Y/N asks in shock as she follows him behind. Her mom slaps her arm as Harry and their dad follow.

“Don’t act offended, You’ve known Harry since you were a kid.”

“Aren’t you married though.” Y/N turns her back and looks at Harry before facing the front again as she suddenly became distracted by the house’s decorations.

“I actually got divorced.” Harry bites his tongue right after.

“See, now look what you did. You embarrassed the young boy.” Y/N’s mom rubs his back as she murmurs to him. “I’m sorry, Haz.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” He shakes his head, trying to act as if the topic didn’t make him feel uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry too.” Y/N finally looks at him once more. “I had no idea.”

“It’s been a year. That’s what happens when you marry too young.” He laughed it off but everyone ignored that statement as they all knew there was a deeper cut in his heart.

When Carla was around 5 months, she had a miscarriage and although, they claimed they would try again… there was no new announcement after that.

“Y/N, this is your room.” Ryan tries to change the topic as he scratches his head.

“Thank you.” She steps inside for a bit of privacy after a long flight. Ryan and Harry along with her parents went back to the living room to go and continue their movie.

Today is Ryan’s wedding and the house was giving her many little flashbacks of Harry’s. The family was in this foreign home and was still running around getting ready. Her mother was screaming at her dad as he decided last minute to steam his suit. Ryan and Meghan were gone which left Harry and Y/N the only victims to her mother’s loudness. The two kept quiet as her mother ran around the house doing her hair and calling relatives for updates. Y/N managed to be ready on time so it let her sit on the couch looking at the photos in which mehgan has framed around the room.

“Your dad said I should drive you to the venue now. I think they’re definitely running late.” Harry speaks up after two days of ignoring her. The truth is last night when he went to the kitchen he saw Y/N sitting down on one of the counters and maybe if it was three years ago, he would’ve spoken to her but something about now told him to go back to his bedroom. He used to feel comfortable around her but now he’s walking around her as if he was on eggshells. He was so fucking nervous.

“Okay.” She agrees with him. Harry was the best man and she didn’t want him to be late because of her parents. Y/N puts her phone in the purse resting on her shoulder as she follows him out of the house. She would’ve been a bit more calm if she didn’t end her call with James midway through their fight.

“Um A-Are you okay?” He opens the door for her as he tries not to check her out. It was definitely difficult however as the way her long hair was styled and the pretty dress she wore. Luckily for Y/N, while Harry was doing some errands at home, she managed to “observe” him in his suit.

“Yeah, I’m good.” She lets out a small smile as she realizes Harry was still driving his car back from high school. You know the vehicle they had sex i-

“Alright.” The man breaks her out of the thought as he starts the car. “I promise tonight isn’t going to be weird around us.”

“Who said it was?”

“I don’t know I guess I just assumed.” He bites his cheek as he glances at her. That’s when the déjà vu hits and he feels like he’s eighteen years old again. She keeps her eyes on the road yet she had no idea that Harry was picturing her seventeen year old self sitting in the seat beside him. One of his favourite memories to be exact.

Flashback*

“So you’re kidnapping me to go camping in the woods.” Y/N smiles as she watches the unfamiliar road in front of them. Harry takes his shades off and passes it to the girl as he notices the sun is shining much more brighter than before.

“Hey, you got permission from your parents.” He smirks at her as he keeps his hand on the gear stick.

“They think I’m sleeping over at Nessa’s.” Y/N laughs as she puts on the shades and looks at him. His cheeks turn red as he catches the sight of the pretty girl wearing everything of his.

“Is little Y/N scared of the dark?” His hand smoothly travels to her thigh.

“I am not.” Y/N chokes on her breath. It was bad enough Harry looked so hot whilst he was driving.

“I think you are.” He notices her breathing becoming a bit more short. “You and me in a tent alone in the dark.” His hand goes a bit more south, gipping her inner thigh.

“I have a surprise for you.” She blurts out. She was also seconds close to making Harry pull over to the side of the road.

“And what is that?”

“I’ve been wearing a plug and I’m ready.” The speed of the car increases a bit as he mindlessly presses his foot to the sound of her voice. He looks at her one more time before taking over the car in front of them.

“Fuck then. My baby once again proves that she isn’t as innocent as I thought.”

End of flashback*

The venue was beautiful. Ryan and Meghan chose this beautiful garden that had tulips growing everywhere. The white gazebo was obviously where the wedding would take place as the reception was only a stoned pathway ahead. Since Harry was the best man and Y/N was his date, she managed to follow him around the place as he spoke to the event planner and the maid of honour. She had a whole tour of the location as Harry spoke about the party’s process to her. Not only that, but he was an amazing date -he kept his hand on her back and introduced her to people she didn’t know.

Currently, she was sitting on the bench watching Harry talk to some familiar faces. They seemed like a few boys Ryan and he would hang out with back in high school. She was mindlessly watching him laugh and smile throughout the conversation until she didn’t realize he was already staring at her. After excusing himself, he walked back towards her.

“I’m sorry, If I’m boring yeh.” Harry rubs his neck as he sits down beside her. The wedding was about to start in a couple of hours.

“No, you’re not.” Y/N laughs as she keeps her eyes on the lake behind him. She suddenly remembers their camping trip. She shakes her head at the thought and shrugs her shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“About the wedding?” He pulls down the sleeves of his dark grey suit. She nods her head and waits for him to continue. “I’m happy Ryan is marrying Meghan. It’s funny how he thought he would stay single for long.”

“I remember him telling you that when you were engaged.” She bites the inside of her cheek. She definitely just put her foot in her mouth again. She was definitely known for that but Harry didn’t seem fazed at all about her statement.

“I mean don’t get me wrong, Weddings are a bit difficult to attend at the moment just because I know mine didn’t end well but um…” He clears his throat and faces himself more towards her. “I also got married knowing I wasn’t really in love with the girl.” Y/N finally looks at him as she watches the familiar green eyes say the truth.

“I know.” She nods her head again. “Things are different now and I hope you do find the girl that you are 100% about.”

“Yeah.” He looks at the patch of flowers in front of them. He would tell her what he thinks but he knows she’s dating someone.

“Let’s go check out your brother.” Harry stands up and offers his hand out. “I’m sure he’s wondering where we are.”

And so the event continued. Y/N’s parents arrived and so did the other guests. The beautiful girl in her wedding dress walked down the aisle and Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off the girl sitting in the crowd.

It was simple for him, he knows he’s not over her but he wouldn’t tell her that.

Would he tell her that he started coming home more after Carla’s miscarriage in hope of seeing her? No.

He definitely can’t tell her that he was hurt. He would come over to their house only to find out she wasn’t home or when he found out she was moving to Seattle for college.

After the past two years, Ryan briefly mentions her and James and he felt like he no longer had a chance. At least with her.

So standing beside Ryan as his best man felt like a total shot in the heart because Harry knew he wasted his time and lost the girl as well.

Y/N catches his eyes watching her and just for a moment, she wished things were different too.

When the reception started, Harry and Y/N along with her parents sat at one of the tables close to the bride and groom

The hosts were right however, as Harry fit perfectly with the family. Throughout dinner, he made jokes and started conversing with her parents more than she thought. Although he gave her some attention, he didn’t fail to compliment her mother as well.

The two sat together eating dessert as he leaned over to whisper something in her ear. “I’ll let you have a bite out of my brownie if I can steal a bite from your cake.” Harry smirks as he takes a sip of his glass of tequila. He wasn’t trying to get drunk but a little strong (strong) alcohol should cause no harm. Y/N casually steals the glass from his hand and takes a sip as well.

The two were finally much more comfortable with each other after spending the day side by side. Harry laughs as he takes his fork and steals a bite of her cake. The red velvet flavour melting in his mouth as he watches the girl swallow the rest of his drink.

“Sorry, I’m a bit quenched.” Y/N laughs as she puts the glass down and stabs her fork back into her cake. His fork immediately swats hers away.

“I’m not done with my bite.” He teases her as he pulls the small plate towards him. Y/N mouth drops.

“You guys fight like children.” Her dad speaks up and smiles at the scene in front of them.

“He asked to steal a bite but he stole the whole plate.” She laughs as she watches him shove numerous tiny bites in his mouth. Y/N mom laughs as she smiles at the cheeky boy.

“I said you can have some of my brownie but you proceed to finish my drink.”

“You seem a little drunk anyway.” She lies as she leans forward to take the brownie from his plate.

“Want some shots.” Harry blurts out as he finishes the dessert. “You finished my drink so I’m heading back to the bar… you still might be a bit quenched.”

“Okay.” She laughs as the two excuse themselves from the table.

“Do you remember the scrunchie on my wrist and you called me out on it.” Harry slowly dances with Y/N as the night continues on. The event was almost over but all the attendees were on the dance floor dancing to Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran. As a proper stellar date, Harry didn’t hesitate to ask the girl for a dance as he knew last time he missed out.

“I know you stole it.” Y/N laughs as she unconsciously rests her head on his shoulder. The truth is when in doubt, Y/N always drinks a bit more than usual. It seems whenever Harry is around, she can’t help but be drunk.

“Oh really?” He pulls away and laughs. “I was going to tell you an old story but you already know.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she looks at the people surrounding them. Nobody was shocked to see how close they were dancing. Everyone was in their own little bubble and maybe if Y/N and Harry didn’t break the ice or drink a bit, they would definitely not be as bold as they are right now.

“No! You have to tell me now.” Her eyes widen as she readjusts her hands on her shoulders. Harry smirked at her anticipation as he willingly rests his hands back on her waist.

“It was the first night we made the deal.” He whispers quietly hoping no one would hear them. “It was on your vanity and I took it after you sleepily threw my clothes at me.” They both laugh at the old memory.

“I saw you wearing it during the game.”

“So did you always watch me back then? Probably just wanted to get into my pants.” Y/N cheeks flush as she hides her face away from him.

“You’re acting as if I never caught you staring right back at me.”

“True.” he twirls her around. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off you after that deal you offered.” Y/N immediately pulls away after he hears the statement roll of his tongue.

“Harry, I know tonight has probably been the most normal conversation we had with each other but… We can’t go back there.” She walks off the dance floor, making him follow her without hesitation. Instead of going back to their table however, she makes a b line to the unlighted pathway of the garden.

“Hey, don’t go. I’m sorry I ruined the moment.” He unbuttons the top of his vest seeing his blazer was still on his chair. “I spoke about fight club-”

“You remember that?” Y/N slows down her speed and turns around. “It’s been three years and you still remember it?”

“Why don’t you?” Harry turns his back around to notice the bushes covering them from the rest of the party.

“Of course I do but you got married and moved away. I just thought that would slip your mind.”

“Well it didn’t.” He musters up a small smile and shrugs his shoulders. “Look, can we go back to the party and pretend I didn’t mess this up.”

“It’s not about you messing up H. It’s the fact that I still get flashbacks of you and I -and seeing you here again is making me feel like the past three years didn’t happen.”

“I didn’t see you during Christmas.” He blurts out as he watches her sigh. “Any holiday except thanksgiving to be exact.”

“Well, I moved to Seattle and couldn’t book a flight home every time of the year.”

“Carla is dating someone new.” Y/N nods her head. “And I’m still not able to get you out of my head.”

“You might just ghost me next time around.” She lets out a sarcastic laugh as she tries her best not to trip over herself as she walks a bit further into the pathway.

“I told you I regret doing that.” He continues to follow her. “It’s been three years and you’re still mad about it.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just saying whenever it’s you and I, you tend to ghost me and run back to Carla.”

“If it makes you feel better, I could give a fuck less what Ryan thinks of us. It’s why I asked him if I could be your date.”

“I have a boyfriend Harry! An actual boyfriend who waits for me after work everyday. A boyfriend who actually replies to my calls-”

“He hasn’t even met Ryan or your parents!”

“And-”

“Look Y/N, all I’m saying is I don’t care about this fucking guy!” Harry sternly walks towards her until he backs her up to a wall of vines.

“Then why are you trying to talk about our old memories and shit like that.”

“Because,” He pauses as he thoughtlessly rests his hands on either side of her head. “I fucking care about you. The moment Carla had a miscarriage and she needed me the most, I needed you! I didn’t realize I let you go the moment I went back to her.”

“Harry…”

“So it’s true, you didn’t love me.” He pulls away but Y/N brings her hands up to his face to keep his eyes on her.

“Of course, I did.” Y/N cries as she shakes her head in disbelief. “Why would you think that would be true? You called me out on it before.”

“I came back every couple of months hoping to see you at home with your parents. You were always gone.”

“Did you actually?”

“Fuck.” He pulls away and runs his hand through his short hair. He swore he would never tell her this. Is this how desperate he is now. “Yeah, of course I did. I knew you would leave for college but I wish I knew from you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not even your fault.” He laughs as he hugs her. “I want you back.” His arms wrap around her much more tightly than before. “Please.”

“James-”

“Do you love him?”

“Harry, don’t ask that?”

“No, I want to know.”

“Well I don’t know because after what you did-”

“Then you still love me.” He looks up at her in hope she would say yes. Just admit it, please.

“Okay and if I do -what do I do now? I like James and although it hasn’t been long I’m sure something will change.”

“Can’t you see?” He directs her back to the wall of vines. “You were always mine the same way, I was always yours.”

“The loophole of our deal.” She mumbles out loud as her hands mindlessly hold onto his forearms.

“The deal has always meant more to me than it should’ve.” He whispers as the sound of music and distant chatter is the only thing they can hear.

And I want to tell you everything

The words I never got to say the first time around

And I remember everything

From when we were the children playing in this fairground

Wish I was there with you now

If the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you

Drive highways and byways to be there with you

Over and over the only truth

Everything comes back to you

“Just kiss me already.” Y/N watches him as she lets out one more breath. Without hesitation he kisses her as the grip on her waist tightens. Y/N’s hands immediately play with the curls that reach the nape of his neck.

“Fuck, I missed you.” His soft lips rub on her left cheeks as he rubs himself on her. His hands begin to wonder in disbelief that she’s in his arms again. Her scent clouding his thoughts that they haven’t even noticed they’re still at a party.

“I want you.” Her hips raise itself on him as she rests her back on the cement behind her. “Harry, please.”

“We’re going home.” He bites his lip as his eyes darken. Without even thinking of what others would say, he mindlessly holds her hand as they walk out of the secluded space. The two didn’t bother telling anyone they were leaving the party as he basically dragged the poor girl to his car.

“Do you even know how to get inside Ryan’s house.” She giggles as she keeps herself close to his arm. He takes his blazer and rests it on her shoulders back like a few years ago.

“I have my ways.” He smirks as he helps her inside the vehicle.

This whole event felt like déjà vu. The wedding, the car ride, the quick secret escape from a party just to have sex. If there was one thing Y/N and Harry were good at, it’s probably how good they were at keeping themselves as a secret.

“I’ve missed you more than I thought.” Y/N bites her lip as she rests her head on the seat, watching Harry drive.

Him in his suit too focused on driving them home made her want to fuck his brains out. Truly.

Harry’s cheeks flush as he takes her hand into his. “I’m no longer that frat boy you used to know. I’m much nicer.”

“Oh really, in what ways?” she smirks as she eyes the growing bulge in his pants.

“I promise you won’t be able to leave my room tonight that’s for sure.”

“Then I’m happy.”

Moist air, dark night, and bodies clinging to each other as Harry struggled to open the front door. As the groom’s best friend, of course he had keys to his house. Y/N couldn’t help but keep her hands on his slim torso as there was something about just holding them that was driving her crazy.

“Fuck, your parents are going to wonder where we are.”

“I don’t fucking care.” Y/N licks the side of his neck before running inside. She’s trying to laugh quietly as she attempts to take off her heels. Harry being the responsible one, he texts Y/N’s dad they went home. Afterwards, he stops by Y/N’s room to lock it before he follows the girl into his room.

Once he locks the door, he realizes Y/N managed to take all her clothes off as she laid on his bed. “For fuck’s sake.” He mumbles to himself as he forgot how horny and crazy Y/N can be. He rubs the slight stubble on his chin as he watches the girl bite her lip and roll in his sheets. “You’re such a little devil aren’t you?”

“Like I said I missed you.” She fakes her confidence as Harry crawls up to meet her on the mattress. His finger takes the lip out between her teeth as his lips move forward to kiss her once again. His goal was to lay her down and kiss her naked body but it seemed like Y/N had other plans in mind. Her arms push him away as she kneels on the mattress. Keeping her eyes on him, she unbuttons the rest of his vest before spreading her palms over where his heart beat. Harry is speechless but the moment she began to unbuckle his belt he had to say something.

“Oh I see.” He smiles as his hand holds Y/N’s chin to his face. “I thought my girl really did miss me but it seems like she missed my dick a bit more huh? You want it?” He grips her face a bit harder as her hands maintain on his waistline. She nods shyly as she tries to continue her action.

“Fine, do what you want but I’m not done with you yet.” His voice softens as his hand immediately brushes the soft hair away from her face. His green eyes watch her drool over him as she unzips his pants. His hands on the flip side continued to remove the white long sleeve off his body. “Take it in your mouth. I know you’re dying too baby.” Y/N cheeks turn red as her tongue peaks out to kiss his hard cock. The funny thing is, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him despite being a horny mess. Sex was never the same if it wasn’t with harry and that was a fact because the moment she put him in her mouth, he pushed himself harder until he could feel the back of her throat.

The constant humming and gagging sounds wasn’t enough for him because the moment he pulled himself out of her little wet hole. He pulls her hair harder to keep her eyes on him. Without even hesitating, he spits in her mouth and puts his dick back in. From the way Y/N’s eyes rolled back, he knew full well that this was his girl and some things don’t change...especially the way she reacts to him.

“Are you going to let me fuck your mouth baby?” He moans quietly as he softly strokes her scalp. “How many times are you going to make me cum huh?” Y/N chokes a bit as he thrusts himself at a faster rate. “Always so pretty aren’t you dove?” He pulls himself out and slaps her tit. “What do you want me to do?” He whispers as kisses her lips once more. His mouth thoughtlessly kisses down the side of her neck as his hands press and grope on her tits.

“I want you everywhere.” His eyes watch her dilated ones as he slowly pushes her down the mattress.

“Hm, I don’t think you want to as much I thought?” He teases her as one of his fingers pops into his mouth and later into hers.

“You want me to beg?” Her tongue swirls around his digit as she lays helplessly on his pillows. “Never.”

“Never?” Harry laughs as his wet fingers pretended to walk down her body to her heated centre. “When did my baby become such a brat?” The devious smirk plays on his face as his tongue licks the side of his mouth.

“I’ve always been a brat.”

“Oh, so you don’t want me to fuck you is that what you’re saying?” His hands immediately stop teasing her as he begins to jerk himself off -slowly but surely.

“I do.” She tries to sit up but his hand pushes her back down immediately. “Harry, please?”

“Is that you begging me?” He laughs as his thumb wipes a bead of precum on his dick. “I would rate that three out of ten, Extra point because good girls say please.”

“Baby...” Y/N moans out as she tries to reach for him but Harry’s hands immediately grabs them and places them above her head.

“Just beg a bit better and maybe you wouldn’t have to work so hard, love. You said it before so show me you want me.”

“Daddy please fuck me.”

“Like music to my ears.” He spreads her legs open and pushes himself inside her. “Fuck.” It’s always the condom that gets to him.

“No, stay.” She whines as she holds onto his wait. “Please, I’m on birth control and James and I don’t really-”

“What?” His eyes widen as he bites the inside of his cheek. “What did you say?”

“He’s an intern at this hospital so he’s just always been busy.” She whispers in embarrassment. Don’t get her wrong, she has sex just not as much as she thought she should.

“Fucking hell.” He mumbles as he thrusts himself a bit harder into her. “No one has taken care of you in a while huh?” He bends down and kisses her again. The soft wet licks stay longer as he hears the beat of her heart. It was beating fast just like his.

“Mhm. Please Harry just fuck me.” She cries out as she takes his fingers back into her mouth. His thrusts become harder and harder as he watches her face cry in pleasure. “Oh daddy, fuck.”

“So fucking good. You’re such an angel oh shit.” His palm immediately chokes her. He couldn’t help but watch how her tits move up and down due to the force he’s putting into her.

“Let me ride you.” Her hips thrust up and meet him. Her mouth opens wide at the feeling.

“You sure about? Sure you can still take me?” His hand gives her a little slap to the cheek.

“Of course I can.” Y/N smirks. Harry immediately pulls himself off her as he lays down on the mattress himself. “You think I’m going to let you fuck me all night long. I’ve been wanting to fuck your brains out.”

“Y/N,” He smirks as he watches her straddle him. “You think you can fuck my brains out? You seem pretty fucking confident, baby.” He flicks her nipple which makes her press herself deeper onto his dick.

“I can.” She closes her eyes as Harry watches the moonlight shine on her face.

“Yeah, then show me.” He slaps the side of her thigh more harder than before. “Fuck me. Just use me then.”

“Just promise I’ll be a good girl, daddy.” her hands slide down to his waist.

“Promise.” He bites his lip and watches their wet desperate centres meet.

And in that moment, there was nothing but lust in their eyes as they fucked back and forth. Y/N moaning as Harry continued slapping her ass. He couldn’t help but thrust his hips as well due the fact there was nothing better than feeling Y/N’s desperate pussy clenching for more.

“Go on all fours.” He cries out after a few more rounds. Y/N wasn’t lying since she definitely fucked his brain out. There was nothing on their minds other than jumping each other’s bones over and over again.

Once she’s in position, he slaps her ass once again before putting himself back in.

“Oh god, shit baby.” Y/N bites the end of his pillowcase as she keeps her hands on the headboard. “You’re so big, I can’t anymore fuck.”

“I know you have one more in you, come on baby.” He pulls her hair and slaps her ass once more.

“Fuck!” She moans out as she feels his wet spit travel down her pussy. Harry immediately thrusts harder as the sweat on his neck begins to bother him. His thrusts were becoming sloppy but he needed Y/N to cum one more time.

“God, fuck me.” Harry moans out as Y/N finally cums one more time around him. Without even thinking, he releases himself inside of her and pulls her hair harder one more time. She immediately falls down as she can’t feel a thing. Harry felt her clench around him despite his need to pull himself off her.

“Baby, you have to let go.” He kisses the back of her shoulder and grips the side of her waist.

“Please don’t go.” She cries out and wipes her tears on the pillowcase. Harry slowly pulls himself off and lays on the bed beside her. He puts himself back in and wipes her tears away. His arm pulls her closer to him as he whispers one more thing into her ear.

“I love you.”

“Glad to see you two are awake.” Y/N’s mom waits in the kitchen as she makes pancakes on the stove. “Ryan and Meghan left last night right after the reception.” She suspiciously keeps her eyes on the two as they walk together to the breakfast table. “Harry, thank you for leaving the door unlocked. We came home around one last night.” Oh shit did they hear us? Y/N looks at Harry who seems bothered as he takes a sip of the coffee in his mug.

“I didn’t hear you two.” She brings the plate to the table. “If you’re wondering Y/N.”

“Mom, it’s not what-” Her cheeks flush in an embarrassment.

“Oh please, don’t bother lying. I already lied, Harry was the one who opened the door for us.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “And Harry, don’t bother giving me an excuse. It makes sense.” She sits down with the two of them. “You always kept visiting us back home and the way your eyes watched her when she came here after her flight gave it all away.”

“Not to mention, you answering the door shirtless and Y/N not responding when we knocked on her door last night.” Y/N’s dad appears with a newspaper in hand.

“Does Ryan know?” Harry looks at Y/N and puts a pancake on her plate. Does her parents even know she’s wearing his clothes?

“Ryan saw you two leave together.” Y/N’s mom laughs. “Don’t worry, it was him and Meghan’s idea to also try and pair you guys together.”

“Wait so he’s okay with it.” Y/N speaks up after murmuring a thank you to Harry.

“Of course he is, Y/N. You guys are no longer teenagers right? So make your own choices for Christ’s sake.” Her mom states in disbelief.

“Did you know I’ve been seeing her back in high school?”

“Harry.” Y/N’s dad’s tone changed. Sounded a bit like disappointment.

“Oh god, there is more to the story?” Y/N’s mom rolls her eyes. “Alright, eat up everyone, you two have to tell us everything.”

“So this is it.” Y/N smiles as she sits in his car. The two were currently at the airport. “I had no idea, you relocated to Boston. It makes sense why you had so many things in your room back at Ryan’s house.”

“Yeah, I transferred last year. I’m hoping to finish here, graduate and then see what else I can do.”

“What do you think this means for us?” She puts her shades on as she pulls on the sleeves of her light sweater that she was wearing over her collared shirt.

“It means that this is when I ask you if you would please be my girlfriend.” Y/N’s cheeks flush and she hides her face in her hands.

“Are you for real?” She laughs.

“Yes.” He smirks as he keeps his hands on the steering wheel.

“I will be your girlfriend, Harry.”

“Good. You’re breaking up with James right.” Y/N rolls her eyes and nods.

“I’m ending it with him, the moment I land back in the city.”

“Make some space, I might move there.” He lightly jokes but there was some truth in it. Meghan and Ryan were married, there was no need for him to take up some space in their house.

“Sure, you’ll love Seattle and Ness is there too.”

“I like that. Will you introduce me to your ex?” Y/N laughs as she opens her door.

“No.” but right before she can get out, his hand pulls her back in for a kiss. Once their lips touch, he looks at her once again.

“I love you.” He genuinely states as he watches her eyes melt in happiness.

“I love you too.” She smiles and kisses him once more. “Bye, Harry.” She hugs him across the platform and kisses his cheek too. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more. Call me later tonight when you land yeh?”

“Okay.” She pouts. She had to catch a flight and be away from him for at least one more year.

“I love you okay, baby.” He kisses her forehead. “Bye.”

“Bye.” And with that, Y/N steps out of the car and watches him drive away. She has a plane to catch and he has some sheets to clean but that doesn't change the fact, they are finally together.

And everyone knows it.

Fini!

---------

Taglist: @f-flourishing , @nataliedahlia , @florenceskies , @much-love-tay , @goldenxstyles7 , @sixwyrxstuff , @y0uresogolden , @gucciantidote , @kikisparadise18 , @muffpuff23 , @stylessugarhigh , @f-vasquezp , @alwaysclassyeagle

#harry styles angst #jealous!Harry #Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry styles one direction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles stories #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry styles one shots #one direction fanfic #one direction one shots #one direction imagines #harry styles imagines #Harry styles fluff #frat boy!harry #solo harry

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xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years ago

Text

🔥Where Is Your Rider?🔥

A/N: HEY EVERYONE!!! So, I just wanted to thank you guys for the massive amount of support you guys have given me recently, I just managed to reach a pretty significant follower count!!! I don’t want to specify the number because I don’t want to make this into a competition, but I’m so happy and grateful for all of you guys and the love and support you have shown me! As promised, I plan to celebrate with a face reveal! I’ll specify when I’m going to do it (as I don’t know when I won’t be busy, lol) but it will happen soon! For now, enjoy this super angsty short one-shot I have written for you guys! This was supposed to be a really short drabble but because I have no self control whatsoever, this ended up being nearly 3,000 words instead of the 500 I planned for it. Also, this was inspired by the two songs, “Where is Your Rider?” and “Pale White Horse” by the Oh Hellos! I hope you enjoy, and again, thank you guys so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Pale White Horse” By: The Oh Hellos 🐉

Word Count: ~2.8k

~~~

Levi braced his hands on his knees, panting so hard his throat burned with dry fire. That had been close. Too close. To say that the expedition had been a nightmare would’ve been an understatement. It had been an absolute disaster. What was supposed to be a simple mission to retrieve some supplies from an abandoned battle station outside the walls had turned into chaos quicker than anyone could’ve ever anticipated as abnormals had surrounded them on all sides. Levi had tried his best to protect as many of his soldiers as he could, but even Humanity’s Strongest Soldier had been overwhelmed by the vast number of titans. Erwin had called for the retreat only minutes into the expedition, and yet they had still lost more men on this mission alone than they had during the past six months.

Levi closed his eyes, willing the tears back against the images of his fallen comrades, their broken bodies and screams of his name as they were devoured right in front of him. He had to stay strong, just for a little while longer. As soon as he got back within the walls and was able to retreat to his office, he would be allowed to break, to let loose the torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. But for now, he had to be the pillar of strength that his remaining soldiers could look up to for hope and reassurance.

He sighed deeply, forcing down the bile that rose in the back of his throat, and raised his head, his eyes still closed as he prepared what he was going to say to his squad. When he finally felt ready enough to face them, he turned with his head held up high to the pitiful number of soldiers left on the field. He opened his mouth to talk when all of a sudden, he noticed something.

Her squad wasn’t back yet.

Levi’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his mouth hung open as the words of his quickly prepared speech were immediately thrown out the window, his mind clouded with worry.

“Where’s Captain (Y/N)? And her squad?” Levi asked, prompting the men around him to stop what they were doing and look to their raven-haired superior. It was obvious that Captain (Y/N) and Captain Levi were together, that much was apparent from Levi’s subtle favoritism and soothed demeanor when she was around, but their relationship was often overlooked due to the professional manner in which they regarded each other when working during the day. Nobody was privy to what occurred behind closed doors - the clingy, loving nature that Levi adopted around (Y/N) when they were alone.

Levi felt a cold tremor trickle down his spine when nobody answered, some of their faces paling as they suddenly remembered their Captain’s relationship, panic laced in their eyes when they realized that nobody could answer Levi’s question. ��Did anybody see where they went? Or could make a guess on which direction they could’ve gone?”

Levi tried to keep his voice steady when silence once again answered him, only the soft murmuring of the cadets asking each other for information filling the space. His breathing quickened and shallowed, making him feel light-headed, but he shook the feeling away. He needed to stay focused if he was going to find her. She was going to be alright, she had to be. He wouldn’t accept any other option.

“Alright then, everybody stay here. Commander Erwin should be arriving with the rest of you in a moment. When he gets here, someone tell him that I’ve gone to look for them.”

He whirled on his heel when he was met with murmurs of acceptance, aiming for his horse until a quick flash of movement caught the corner of his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized it was the movement of a horse racing for them, its hooves striking the ground with every beat as it galloped for them in a panic. Cold dread washed over Levi as the horse got closer, immediately recognizing the silvery white coat of (Y/N)’s stunning mare.

Levi was frozen in fear for the first time in his life as the horse came barreling towards him; riderless. He managed to snap out of it and quickly moved to intercept the horse, using his hands to jolt the frantic horse to a stop. Levi cooed at the mare, murmuring soft words of comfort as he approached her as slowly and non-threateningly as possible. When she had finally calmed down enough for him to touch her, Levi carefully curled his fingers around her reins and stood back to get a good look at the animal.

Her nostrils were flaring with every harsh breath she took, panting with both fear and exertion. Her eyes were wide enough to flash the whites around her irises at him, her gaze darting all around them as if expecting something to jump out at her. Levi felt his stomach clench hard enough to rip a whimper from him when he saw that her once gleaming silver coat was now soaked in sweat, mud, and fresh blood. Levi took a shuddering breath, his eyes closing.

“Danika, where is your rider?”

The mare’s only response was to jerk her head in panic, her ears pinned as she tried to rip herself from his iron grip. Levi bared his teeth, a few stray tears sliding down his cheeks. “WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR RIDER!?”

He knew shouting would only make things worse, but he couldn’t help himself, his fury and paralyzing fear driving him to the edge of insanity. Where was she? She had to be here, he wouldn’t accept this, couldn’t accept this. She was alive and well and perfectly fine, her horse was just acting crazy. It had to be some kind of trick, some kind of illusion meant as a punishment for the lives of the men he had lost.

He rubbed his eyes but to his horror, the image of blood soaking Danika’s fur didn’t disappear. He wanted to believe that it was Danika’s blood, that the poor animal had just been clawed up in battle, but he knew it wasn’t hers. She had no external wounds to speak of and the blood was pooled on top of her saddle and splashed along her flank rather than gouged from her flesh.

More tears started to stream down his face, the air in his throat hitching with every shaky breath he took. It wasn’t possible. No. She was alive. (Y/N) was alive. The love of his life was alive. Levi hung his head, his hair falling to curtain his expression as he choked on another sob. “Danika, please. Please. Where is your rider? Where is (Y/N)? She was with you, right? She has to be around here somewhere…”

He knew he must look deranged, talking to a horse and muttering to himself, but he didn’t care. All he cared about, in that moment, was finding out where the fuck his lover was. Another sob ripped through his body, his eyes squeezing shut even harder as more tears fell from behind his lids. He didn’t want to accept it, he couldn’t accept it, so why was his heart shattering as if he already had?

The sudden touch of a warm muzzle brushing against his face made him flinch and look up, only to be met with the sight of (Y/N)’s silver mare, watching him with a deeply sorrowful expression that mirrored his own, as if she too was grieving the loss of her rider. Levi wanted to scream, wanted to chase the mare into the woods, wanted to slash titans until his body gave out, but he knew he couldn’t do any of those things. It wasn’t the horse’s fault, no matter how much he wanted someone to blame.

“Please,” he whispered, his fingers coming up to curl against Danika’s soft muzzle. “Please tell me she’s alive. Tell me she made it back with you, you just got scared and left her behind. Tell me that she’s going to be okay. I-I can’t live without her, please.”

He was begging now but he didn’t notice. He just wanted some damn reassurance, some comfort, some support - all of the things that (Y/N) usually provided for him when he felt helpless. But (Y/N) wasn’t with him and he was floundering. His eyes were glossy with tears as he looked deep into the mare’s eyes, begging with both his voice and his gaze for the horse to give him something, anything to work with.

“Levi,” the deep voice right beside him made him jump, too lost in his hysteria to notice that Erwin had slipped up next to him, his face dark and grim. Levi’s eyes were frantic as they searched Erwin’s gaze. He knew the Commander had seen (Y/N) last, her squad had been flanking his during their initial departure. Erwin swallowed. Hard.

“Levi, I’m so sorry but…” The Commander dug around in his pocket until he found what he was looking for and pulled out a small piece of fabric with (Y/N)’s name written on the back. It was (Y/N)’s wings of freedom patch. Levi carefully took the patch in both of his palms, tears flooding his cheeks as his whole body started to shake.

“S-She saved her squad, Levi. They were being chased by a hoard of abnormal titans and she darted off to act as bait. Her p-plan was solid, but there were just too many of them and they overpowered her,” Erwin said, his jaw clenching when he stuttered a few times, fighting back his own tears. He lifted a hand and rested it gently on his friend’s shoulder, squeezing once. “Levi, s-she’s gone.”

Levi immediately shook his head violently in response, refusing to believe it. She wasn’t dead, she couldn’t be. She had promised him that she would stay alive, that she would never leave him alone, especially after all he had lost. She promised. Erwin walked forward, hands outstretched to keep Levi from doing something rash, but he wasn’t fast enough as the raven crashed to the ground, collapsing under the weight of his grief.

A loud, miserable howl tore from his throat and filled the valley, making the soldiers around him flinch as they silently mourned, a few of them even beginning to shed tears as they watched their normally stoic, steadfast Captain break for the first time since they’d met him. Levi ignored everyone as he sobbed out for the world to hear, his head buried in his hands and his body shaking violently with the force of his sorrow.

He didn’t want to accept it, didn’t want to acknowledge what everyone was telling him was fact. He didn’t want to think about anything but getting her back in his arms as soon as possible. It was all he wanted, to feel her warmth pressed lovingly against him, to hear her murmur gentle words filled with more love than he’d ever expected to receive in his life, to see her eyes light up brightly whenever she saw him. Without her, he was nothing. He knew that if he accepted this, that he would be accepting the loss of his very soul. It was too much for him to handle, he had finally been broken.

The pain was unbearable, he couldn’t take it anymore. Without (Y/N) by his side, he had no will to live. Fuck fighting the titans, fuck finding a new, better world, fuck being Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. Fuck everything. None of it was worth it if (Y/N) wasn’t wrapped safely in his arms.

“Levi…”

He heard Erwin coo at him, his hand outstretched to guide Levi to his feet, but the raven quickly ripped his arm from the Commander’s grasp, his eyes filled with an icy fire that would make Death itself shiver.

“Lead the retreat, take my men back to the walls.”

“Levi, what are you-?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Levi snapped aggressively as he tore his cape from his back and draped it over Danika’s blood soaked saddle.

“Levi, (Y/N)’s dead. You need to come back with us, if you don’t, you won’t make it.”

“That’s the point,” Levi said as he pulled himself into the saddle, once again avoiding Erwin’s attempt to grasp him.

The blonde’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, his jaw dropping at his Captain’s words. “If you think for one fucking second that I am going to let you kill yourself over some girl-”

“Don’t you dare speak about (Y/N) that way,” Levi said, his voice a deadly calm. “She is not just ‘some girl’. She’s the love and light of my life and I’m not leaving without her. I’m going to bring her back, no matter what it takes.”

Erwin opened his mouth to argue, but wasn’t even able to get the first word out before Levi had kicked Danika into a gallop, aiming right for the forest she had come from just minutes earlier. Nobody could do anything but watch as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier tore off into the woods, dread settling in their stomachs at the thought of having to fight without his support. Because they all knew, even if Levi made it, he would never be the same. Unless (Y/N) was somehow magically still alive, Levi would never be the same man he once was. His responsibilities and future didn’t matter to him anymore, not if they didn’t include his love.

Erwin sighed and shouted for his men to retreat, knowing that sending more men to retrieve Levi would only end in more casualties, by both titans and Levi himself. All he could do was trust that his friend could hold his own and would make it back. The soldiers of the remaining squads did as he asked without hesitation but the air was thick with tension as they galloped back to the walls, unsure of how to process the loss of their two strongest Captains.

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miss-smutty · 4 years ago

Note

hii i just discovered ur blog and whew wow- tumblr is severely lacking some daddy hemsworth fics so tyyy

idk if your taking requests rn but could i please request something with thor or chris where he’s had a rough day at work or something and is very angry so he’s really rough in bed with you that evening and you love it! also could it include lots of dom!thor/chris and dirty talk bc that’s my weakness

tyyy if u do this sorry if it was too detailed idk ive never sent a request lol but ty hunny <3

So first of all thank you @mysticbonkoperavoid , I'm so glad you like my fics ❤️

And secondly thank you so much for your amazing request, I literally got lost in this filth 🥵🥵 I hope you like it 😘

A/N- This is just pure filth, so consider yourself warned 😂🥵🥵 strictly 18+ only. Dom!Thor literally had me ✨ clenching ✨

Summary- Thor's had a tough day and nothing you do is helping until you let him take out his frustration on you and become his little slut.

Word count- 3,243 of pure filth

Pairing- Thor x reader

Warnings- Smut, filth, dirty talk, rough sex, swearing

18+ only!!!

Taglist-: @innerpaperexpertcloud

Posted: 22nd Feb 2021

⚡A Push Too Far ⚡

Thor had come home from a mission in a foul mood, you'd tried everything to cheer him up. You'd made him his favourite snack, put on his favourite show and even massaged his big, worn out feet. Nothing was working and you were exhausted with the effort. You selfishly couldn't stand the negative atmosphere and just wanted to know how to make him feel better. If he wouldn't tell you what was wrong how could you help? You were so used to him being overly enthusiastic about everything and hated when he was in one of these moods. Something pretty bad must've happened to dampen his mood this much.

"Just tell me what's wrong and I can help" You huff.

"Will you please just forget it? I don't want to talk about it" Thor said, pushing you off gently when you try to touch him.

"I want to know what's happened to put you in such a sulky mood." You said teasing him, trying to get his attention. If you couldn't get him to talk to you then you would just have to help him take his frustration out in the best way he knows how.

"Please Y/N, stop talking about it" He says exasperated, you're pushing the last of his nerves and you know it. It's exactly what you want, you know what he's capable of when he's angry.

"Make me." You say, seeing the switch in his eyes as his jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his neck straining against the skin. You backed away from him slowly, knowing all too well what was coming.

The ground shook around you as bolts of lightning flew from Thor and his eyes glowed brightly making you shield your own eyes from the sudden glare. Immediately knowing you'd pushed him too far. You were frightened but more than that you were massively turned on, your pussy clenching with ferocity. You knew he'd never hurt you, well never more than you could handle but still, angry Thor was a feast for the eyes. Delicious.

"You better shut that pretty little mouth of yours before I put it to work" He bellowed, his eyes still glowing and his jaw clenched together tightly.

"Is that a promise?" You say under your breath, watching Thor through your eyelashes as he towered over you.

"On your knees" He commanded, with the power of a God, making you weak as his voice rebounded from the walls of the large, almost empty room with a dramatically high ceiling.

"But..." You start before he cuts you off.

"Did I stutter? do as you're told" He urged, looking down at your petite frame before him. His powerful demeanor making you do exactly as you were told. Looking up at him with innocent eyes as you knelt on the hard, wooden floor.

He circled around you, like a wolf and his prey, taking in the sight of you kneeling like a victim. Purposefully not touching you, the anticipation of when he would strike making you hold your breath. Your panties are already soaking wet and the buldge in his pants is straining against his trousers.

Thor moves to stand in front of you, his legs planted a foot width apart while he gazes down at you, a slow, wicked smile appearing on his lips. Tortuously, slowly unzipping his trousers and pulling out his lofty length, gripping it firmly with his two hands.

"I think that pretty little face deserves to be fucked" oh fuck, Thor, now you're talking. Now was your turn to smile devishly at Thor, ready and waiting for him to feed your slutty little mouth with his fat cock.

He disappears behind you, you try to turn around to follow him with your eyes but he grabs your hair, pulling you back. It made you ache but not your head, it made your pussy ache.

"Don't move" He whispers into your ear, still pulling your hair back so you're looking up at him. Pulling a hair tie from his wrist and wrapping it around your hair at the nape of your neck. Wait a minute, where did he get that from? It dawns on you that he's had this planned since the minute he'd got home, the only way he knows how to take his frustration out. Probably knowing you wouldn't be able to take his silent treatment and push him too far in the end anyway. Oh you sneaky man, Thor.

It feels like a painstakingly long time before he's finally back in front of you, his trousers and boxers now discarded on the floor behind you. Taking in the sight of his thick, muscly thighs and his long, thick cock have you licking your pouty lips. You want to reach up and pull his t-shirt off too but he grabs hold of your wrists as they snake their way up his torso.

"Ah ah ah, are you going to be good? or am I going to have to tie you up?” He asks in a gruff tone making you put out your bottom lip as you sit back on to your ankles. Your knees beginning to ache from the hard floorboards.

"Does it hurt?" He asks, watching you whince with a satisfied look on his face "Do you want a cushion?" He says in a teasing voice while you nod your head with pleading eyes.

"What do you say?" Bending to pick up the cushion from the couch and holding it out of arms reach, smiling sinfully.

"Please" You say sweetly, more than happy to play his game. Your whole body aching with need. At last he pulls his t-shirt over his head, his biceps flexing as he does, your heart racing at the sight of his ravishing nakedness. That perfect body is all yours.

"Strip" he says seductively looking you up and down, throwing the cushion on the floor by your knees and pulling you up and against his rock hard cock. A squeel emits from your mouth, his hands gripping your cheeks firmly.

You look at him for a second, dumbfounded. You're used to him taking the lead and ripping your clothes off in a heated frenzy, this is new.

Elated with the fact he's allowing you to give him a show for once, you drape the straps of your dress over your shoulder, pushing him down on the couch with a hard shove to the chest. Watching that slow smile spread on his lips and his cock bounce, satisfyingly, with the impact.

Pulling the dress down to your feet and stepping out of it, standing proudly in your lacey underwear. Cocking your eyebrow at him as you hook your thumbs into the side of your panties, pulling them down a fraction. You stop to move closer to him, reaching your hands out to touch his bare skin.

"No touching or I swear I'll tie your hands" He says nonchalantly, his eyes hungry with lust, you pout at him, disappointed you can't touch him.

He watches you intensely as you finish taking off your panties and bra, holding in a giggle when you throw them at him and they hit him square in the face.

"You smell, delicious" He surprises you when he licks his lips, no hint of a smile on his face just that deep intense glare of a predator. The word 'delicious' rolls of his tongue, delectably. The way he stares into your soul, taking in every inch of your nude body, makes your stomach clench, your pussy dripping with arousal.

"Now back on your knees" He says, standing back Infront of you, his cock eye level.

Grabbing your ponytail with one hand and guiding his cock to your mouth with his other. You open your mouth instinctively, widely, like the good little slut you are.

Thor takes no prisoners and rams his cock deep into your mouth, making you gag instantly. Your lips wrap around his cock, the length and thickness filling you up. He yanks your hair backwards so your looking into his eyes while he slams his cock in and out of your mouth.

"Look me in the eyes while you take my cock" oh for the love of God... and Thunder. your pussy is dripping, aching for it. "Good girl"

He pushes your head down on his cock, as far as you can go. You can feel the tip hitting your tonsils and the shaft throbbing in your mouth. You're gagging, spit dribbling down your chin in a disgusting manner. Your eyes brimming with tears as he rams his cock to the back of your throat.

"Choke on it" he groans, his head hanging back. You feel the confidence to reach out and cup his balls, knowing he wouldn't chastise you when he's too consumed in the ecstasy of your lips and tongue wrapping around his cock.

"Is that better? Are you satisfied now you've got my full attention?" He looks down at you, a deep hunger in his eyes. You were nowhere near satisfied yet, not until you felt his cock stretching your walls but you couldn't tell him that, he'd just tease you for even longer.

"Mmm" you mumble around the length of his dick.

"Don't talk with your mouth full" he scolds huskily, his voice filled with lust.

You hold onto his firm cheeks while you suck his dick, letting your tongue do the work, running over the full length and teasing the tip. Sucking on the tip, hard, while you grip the base with your hand. You can feel his cock throbbing in your mouth, amazed with how hard he is. You know he's struggling with restraining himself, just as much as you, he'll just never admit it.

Thor lets out a deep growl, thrusting his dick into your mouth one last time before sharply pulling out with a pop. You were actually upset he'd stopped you, you were enjoying sucking his fat dick. He pulls you up to stand before grabbing your cheeks in his hands and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around him.

You want to kiss him so bad. You hang on to him as he pushes you back against the wall, hard enough to leave a bruise. The feel of his cock thrusting against you has you mewling as he bites hard on your neck. Shivers travel through your entire body, finally feeling his lips against your skin and the thrill of his teeth biting against your neck. The fine line between pain and pleasure being well and truly explored.

You're lost in the feel of his teeth against your skin and muscle, moaning loudly, you barely notice when he sets your feet back onto the ground. Sucking loudly on your neck, your head hanging to the side giving yourself to him freely.

"Im gunna leave marks all over your skin so everybody knows you're mine." He says breathlessly against your skin, his breathe tickling your neck making your hair stand on end, your pussy clenching, agonisingly.

Thor pushes his forearm against your throat so you're locked in between him and the wall, no where to go. Staring into your eyes, making you blush as he pushes two fingers into your mouth without warning.

"Suck" he commands, his voice gruff and deep, oozing authority. You know his fingers are going to delve into you and you can't wait, sucking eagerly on his legthy, stocky fingers.

Before you have time to draw breath, he thrusts his fingers into your opening. Immediately curling them around to find your G-spot. Satisfaction plastered on his face when he hears your moaning, knowing he's got you right where he wants you.

"You love this, don’t you? Let me hear how much you love it.” He whispers into your ear, his arm still pushing against your throat. You can barely take anymore, his sultry words and his thick fingers making your head spin. Nothing else in the world matters right at this moment, he fills you with narcotic desire. Like a drug to you, you can't get enough, always wondering when you'll get your next fix. If you could get away with making him lose his temper on a daily basis, just so could feel this amount of pleasure, you would.

You moan for him obscenely, you're eyes pooling with desire and hunger. His fingers repeatedly hitting your spot, harshly, bringing you over the edge. Your mouth hangs open, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your pussy clenches around his fingers.

"Does that feel good" he asks captivatingly, holding is arm against your throat and fucking you with his fingers.

"Amazing" You say breathless, the huskiness of your voice surprising you. His face is so close to yours and your senses so hightened that his masculine scent hits your nostrils. His otherworldly fragrance. The smell you long for on those long nights he's away. It hits you and you're consumed by it, your legs starting to shake as your mind loses control. The orgasm rushing from your core.

Then it's gone, just like that. You open your eyes, noticing they're about to burst with tears. You were so close!

"I don't care how good it feels, don't you dare come yet" he says venomously, you honestly feel like your about to start crying. The build up was so intense and then it was just gone and you still feel that deep need. Thor is looking pleased with himself and if you weren't so turned on by the look on his face, you would've slapped him straight across it. Cocky shit!

You were about to protest, but he saved you from the punishment when he stuck his fingers into your mouth again. Your slickness coated all over them.

"Now see how good you taste, how wet I make you" you looked him in the eyes resentfully and for just a moment you saw his eyes soften. Only a moment before they're filled with fire once more and he's pulling you to the bedroom across the room. Still fighting the urge to finally have his way with you, taking his precious time to tease you beyond your limits. To show you who's the boss around here. As if you ever had any doubts.

Throwing you onto the bed and pushing your knees open with force. You can feel your pussy throbbing with anticipation knowing it's not long until he finally gives you what you've been craving from the start.

Thor effortlessly clamps both of your wrists above your head in a vice like grip with his big, manly hands, leaving you writhing, like his prey, on the bed below him. You breathe a sigh of relief when he finally reaches down to kiss your lips, biting on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Keep your hands here" Emphasising 'here' with a squeeze of your wrists. You try to stay perfectly still while he moves down your body, straining your neck to watch what he does next.

“What a perfect sight, you, all spread out for me to do whatever I want to” he says, positioning himself in-between your legs. Seeing you in all your glory, your pussy dripping wet making him lick his lips.

You gasp when his lips latch on to your inner thigh, so sensitive to his touch. Biting and sucking all the way down each thigh, your going to be covered in hickies come tomorrow morning. You know that's his plan, he loves to see the remnants of the night befores dirty sessions. Even if no one else can see them, he knows they're there, a reminder that you're his.

"Just marking my territory" he reminds you, confirming your suspicions.

"I know exactly what you're doing" you say through gritted teeth, the pain and pleasure unbearable.

"Let’s find out how much you can take before you're begging me for my cock.”

All you can do is nod your head while you bite down on your bottom lip, afraid how shaky your voice will be if you try to speak.

The sudden slap to your pussy makes you shout out, completely unexpected but hot as fuck all the same, sending shockwaves throughout your whole body.

"You like that?" He slaps you again, hitting your clit with his fingertips and making you convulse uncontrollably. You can see the restraint on Thor's face, the vein protruding from his neck and the tightness in his jaw are the tell tale signs. You know he's about to burst.

"I love to see you squirm now I want to hear you moan" he grabs onto your hips and turns you over, pulling you on to your knees. His movements getting sloppy and desperate now, the lust taking over him.

You inhale as Thor presses the tip of his cock to your opening, brushing it up and down and gathering your wetness. Your legs threaten to give way as he teases you with his cock, you can't stop yourself from pushing yourself back onto him.

"Do you think you deserve my cock?" his voice was heavy with desire.

"Yes, Thor... Please" you plead, more than worthy after the torture he's put you through.

Thor eases himself in gradually, while you push yourself backwards, no more patience left in you. Holding on to your hips and exhaling, the satisfaction of finally feeling your walls clamping around him. You whince as he slams himself into you with full force, his balls slapping against you. The sounds of sex filling your ears in a glorious way.

"You won't... be able... to walk... after I'm done... with you" he says between every thrust, knocking you forward with every slam. Your orgasm is building already, you can feel your walls tightening, trying to push him out as he holds on to your hips relentlessly.

He grips hold of your ponytail, yanking it backwards, so your head is as far back as it can go, your neck straining. He squats above you, dipping his dick into you, so deep you can feel it in your stomach. This position is fucking everything, he knows you're about to come and sends a slight electrical charge straight through your core just as you release around him. It feels fucking amazing!

Thor reaches forward and hooks his finger into your mouth, pulling your cheek back as he continually pounds into you. Orgasm after orgasm gushing all over his cock, dribbling out of your aching pussy until you're kneeling in a puddle of your arousal. Your screaming his name, your pussy throbbing, squeezing against his cock. You know he's struggling to restrain when he inhales sharply.

"Dirty fucking slut" he says venomously.

"You fucking love it don't you?" His voice is breathless and deep, you can't take much more. The power of your come is pushing him out, making you ridiculously tight. You can feel his cock twinging as his powerful come shoots into you, he roars so loudly the bed shakes around you. You finally collapse into the bed head first, your knees giving way as he rests against you with his cock still inside of you, twitching and convulsing.

"Are you ok, baby?" Thor asks sweetly, his frustration finally dissipated, rubbing your ass cheeks tenderly.

"More than ok" you say breathless and tired, rolling over onto your back underneath him and pulling him down on to you.

Finally his lips are on yours, passionately, forcing your mouth open and stroking your tongue with his. Kissing you like his life depended on it, making up for the hours spent without the feel of your lips on his. A deep feeling of satisfaction washed over you, he's yours and you're his and you can fuck like animals but still collapse into each other arms lovingly afterwards.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?" You tease, making him laugh a great big belly laugh as he pulls you over on top of him.

#thor x you #thor odinson #thor x reader #thor smut #smut #mcu smut

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thecreelhouse · 1 year ago

Text

crystal clear

Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

WC: 14k (i am so sorry)

Summary: What started as friends “helping” one another out, turns into something much more than either of you anticipated. Secrets are revealed, mistakes are made, and confessions are confessed.

This is the 3rd and final part of this lil unnamed roommate trilogy! You can find part one and part two here!

CW/Tags: language, smut, PiV sex, oral sex (m & f receiving), cum play, super brief anal play, free use, praise kink, humiliation kink, switch!steve & switch!reader, cockwarming, choking, jealousy, angst. Lots. Of. Angst., hurt/comfort everywhere, internalized biphobia, weed mention, happy ending i promise!!

A/N: this took way longer to write than I expected, and apologies for the late post, I had too many technical difficulties 😭 major thanks to @stevenose for hyping this up and helping me on some parts<3 this one’s long as hell, and there’s a LOT going on, but I hope y’all that enjoyed the first two like this one as well. thank you for the support on the others!! <3 title is from a hayley williams’ song by the same name lol.

“Is it weird yet?”

The first time either of you asked the question in the backs of both of your minds, Steve had you bent over the bathroom sink, pulling your hair, forcing you to watch as he railed into you relentlessly.

You can’t remember who asked first, but neither of you answered it. Not out loud, at least. You were too busy moaning Steve’s name to worry about the question.

“Isn’t this kinda weird?”

The question came from you, after Steve came home from a failed date, a failure you silently celebrated. He was in a funk, not expecting anything, but you offered, so how could he say no?

Because turning down the offer of you riding him until he cried—his request, comfortably carried out by you enjoying the mini power trip over your roommate, seemed foolish. You did your best to hide how smug you felt that Steve’s date didn’t work out, so when you offered to cheer him up, and he begged on his knees to touch you, you’d be insane to turn down the opportunity.

“People do this? But that’s… weird, isn’t it?”

“So… what if you’re not in the mood? ‘Cause I don’t wanna initiate anything when you’re not feeling it. Like, I get that’s the whole point, but I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable—”

You’re laying on Steve’s bed, the morning after fucking around when you got home from the bar. It didn’t last long, with the two of you too drunk, too tired, getting handsy but being clumsy messes while laughing and falling over one another multiple times.

Instead, you fell asleep in his arms, and you wanted to kick yourself for it.

You’ve been trying to distance your feelings from whatever kind of roommates-with-benefits dynamic had appeared between the two of you, but fuck it wasn’t easy.

“What if I wear something specific when I’m cool with it?” You suggest, tugging on the scrunchie on your wrist. “If I have this on my wrist, you’re free to do whatever.”

Steve was leaning against his dresser, arms crossed as his eyes were glued to your figure, barely covered by an old shirt of his while it clung to the softest parts of you.

He wishes you didn’t look so goddamn cute in his clothes.

“Uh— yeah. Yeah, that works, I guess— ” Steve pauses to overthink. Again. “Are you sure this isn’t too weird?”

“Babe,” It slips out, making you stall as you sit up, clearing your throat to brush past it. “If I thought it was too weird, would I be the one to suggest this?”

Steve blushes, in the way where it’s so much red across his face, it blooms to the tips of his ears. He can feel it, brushing his hair over his ears, ignoring the look you give him.

“Right… Uh, so what should I do? Like, to show you I’m cool with it?” Steve’s puzzled on how this even works, or who would find this hot to begin with. Yet with each confession of what turns you on, the quicker it is for him to get harder with every, and probably any fantasy.

“You want a scrunchie too?” Steve rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t dim the red hue across his face. You giggle at how flustered he is while pulling a thin, black hairband from your other wrist, holding it out. “Would this work?”

Hesitantly, Steve takes the hairband before slipping it over his hand. “Okay, but… What if someone says something?”

You snort, “First of all, it’s just an elastic band. People won’t know. And if anyone’s inspecting your wrists that closely, they’re just fucking weird.” He slips it onto the other wrist, the one his watch is always on, hoping it blends in better. “Steve, now I can’t see it.”

He rolls it over his hand before stretching it between his fingers, playfully shooting it back your way. “Fuck it, I won’t use anything.”

“You sure? That’s— what if I did something when you’re not in the mood?”

“I’ll tell you.”

“Immediately?”

“Immediately. I swear.”

You’ve appreciated how easy it’s been to talk about whatever either of you want, or don’t want. This roommates-with-benefits thing might’ve been awkward, still is if you’re being honest, but talking about boundaries from the start with Steve gave one less thing for the two of you to worry about.

He rubs his jaw, lost in thought. “What’s it called again?”

“Free use, but If you’re not comfortable, or just want it to be one sided, don’t be afraid to tell me.”

“N- no! ” Steve shouts quickly, immediately embarrassed by how desperate he sounds. “I mean… what’s off limits for you?”

You smirk, twirling the scrunchie between your fingers. “Nothin’. You?”

Steve exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Uh… I wanna say nothing, but… if something happens that I’m not cool with, or you’re not cool with, we can stop, right?”

“Yeah, Stevie. We’re not doing this if either of us aren’t into it. If I do something to you that you don’t like, tell me, okay? It’s just like fucking around any other time, but a lil’ more… exciting.”

With a scoff, he sits next to you on the bed, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were bored when we fuck. You never sound like you’re bored when you’re shouting my name.”

You elbow his side, ignoring the way your stomach flips, “Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How’d you even find out this was a thing?” His curiosity’s going to kill him someday, he just knows it, but he can’t stop himself from asking. “I doubt those romance novels get that filthy.”

“Um…” You retreat into yourself, growing shy. “I might have, like, a teensy tiny stash of some… movies… and stuff.”

Steve’s face lights up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“You? Since when?!” He’s smirking while regret sets in; should’ve kept that one to yourself. “Wait. Why haven’t I seen you in the back at work?”

Laughing, you admit, “Steve, why the hell would I go where you work to rent porn? I’m not that much of an idiot.”

“Well— I- I wouldn’t make fun of you, y’know.”

Again, you bark out a laugh, “Bullshit, you totally would, especially if you saw wh—” You freeze eyes darting away as your laughter dies in your throat. Steve’s lit up like a fucking city skyline now.

Why, oh why did you have to be cursed with such a big mouth?

“Say it,” He taunts, a smirk growing on his face. “Tell me.”

“Harrington, I’m not telling you a damn thing.”

Steve nods a few times, like he understands, then shoots a mischievous look. “Where’s the tapes?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“Neither was your vibrator dying, but look, it brought us to some good things, right?”

“Th- that’s different, Steve.” You can feel your face heating up, your skin prickling as he puts you on the spot, hand resting on your thigh as he studies your expression.

Leaning in, his voice drops low as he asks, “How different are we talkin’?” His palm is warm, long fingers already close to your heat without even trying.

“Steve…” The warning tone in your voice means nothing to him right now; your gaze follows the direction his hand heads in, inching closer to where you want him most. Where you always want him. Where you always need him.

You expect him to stop, but his fingers ghost over your cunt, covered by the sweet, heart-patterned fabric of your panties— his favorite pair. You shiver as he adds some pressure, slowly rubbing along your sensitive core.

“What, did talking about being used like a slut make you wet already?” Steve taunts, chuckling as you roll your hips forward, trying to chase the feeling he’s barely giving you. “Tell me where the tapes are, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You shake your head, biting your lip to hold back any noises that might give him satisfaction and an ego boost. He mocks you with a pout and a whine.

“Well, guess I’ll have to find ‘em myself,” Before you can register what Steve says, he’s out the door and rushing to your room, while you’re left to shake yourself out of the fog of lust he left you in.

“H- hey! Don’t you fucking dare!”

When you make it to your room, Steve’s on his hands and knees, snooping under your bed. “Not there…”

“Steve, please, ju- just drop it.”

“Why?” He’s having way too much fun teasing you like this, but you’re embarrassed, wishing you could take your confession back. He’s casually opening drawers in your dresser, peeking inside each one with no success. “You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t want me to see.”

“I— there’s some stuff I wanna keep to myself, I didn’t mean to say anything.” You’re digging your nails into your palms as they roll into clenched fists.

“Thought you liked being humiliated?” When Steve brings it up, it’s part of the teasing, until he looks up to see your uncomfortable body language. He steps away from the drawer he was digging through before making his way to you.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” He comes over to you, cautious as he watches the way your fingers curl into your palms and tense into fists, while you look at the floor, trying not to cry. “I promise I didn’t see anything. And I- I’m sorry for invading your space.”

Steve looks ashamed, and you feel bad. He didn’t know your tears were serious, but you’re already consumed by your own emotions.

You finally look at him, bottom lip curled into a wobbling pout, eyes glassy, “Can I be alone for a bit?”

“You- Yeah, f’course,” Steve automatically wants to comfort you, but he fights it off, just like the time you came home after your awful day, giving you the space you need. “I’ll be…y’know… yeah.”

Steve gently shuts the door behind him, leaving you to cry in the comfort of your own solitude.

···························

A few hours pass, with Steve spending most of it curled up on the couch, trying to mindlessly watch a movie, but he can’t get his mind off of you. He feels horrible that he didn’t catch onto your emotions earlier. He was hoping you’d come out by now, but you’ve been holed up in your room since you asked him to leave.

In the few moments he wasn’t consumed by his guilt, Steve’s thoughts would be spinning, trying to figure out what was on those tapes that would make you so upset if he saw them. Maybe you were just into kink. He wouldn’t judge you for that, everyone’s got their own… interests.

What if they contained something violent, or dark? Again, he wouldn’t judge you, but he’d be concerned for you and your safety. Then again, if it’s between two consenting adults, it’s none of his business.

Still doesn’t stop him from wishing it was his business.

All this time, up until the vibrator incident, Steve had every right to believe you were such a sweet, innocent person. Now, he’s not so sure, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Steve’s so wrapped up in his own spiraling thoughts, he doesn’t hear you open the door, or walk into the room. Instead, he notices you when you drop a cardboard box on the floor near him, startling him out of his layered overthinking.

“Holy fu— ” He sits up and rubs his eyes before locking his view with yours, heart sinking over how tear stained your face is. How swollen your eyes are. Had you been crying this whole time? “… Hi. What’s— are you— ” Steve’s unsure what to ask first: “what’s in there?” or “are you okay?”

You make it a point to sit on the floor, far from Steve. Crossing your legs underneath you, you’re beginning to pick at your nails nervously, unable to look at him.

“That’s what you were looking for earlier,” You rasp, fighting off another wave of tears.

Steve’s tempted to rip the box open immediately, but he restrains himself. “Honey, if you don’t want me to see, it’s okay. I had no right to dig around earlier, even if I was just joking. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I- I’m so sorry I did. And if it makes you feel better to keep this to yourself, we can forget about all of this. I’ll never bring it up ever again.”

His sweet, apologetic rambling just makes this heavier for you to bear. You lean into your hands, face buried in your palms as you groan, frustrated. “Steve, sometimes I wish you were a dick, because it’d make shit like this so much easier.”

“What are you talking about?”

“At this point it’s just… look, it’s probably for the best you know about this, since we’re fucking around.” You murmur into your hands. “Let me know when you’re disgusted and want me to move out.”

Steve’s brows furrow, really concerned now. “I’d never… I don’t want you to leave. Why would you think that?”

You sit up but look away from him, giving a weak gesture towards the box. “You’ll see.”

Again, Steve hesitates, but you look at the box as you still avoid his gaze, nodding in reassurance. “This isn’t a trick, or anything. I’m letting you— I’m showing you what you should know.”

So, carefully, he opens the box’s flaps one by one before peering inside; Steve slides off the couch and to the floor next to the box, pulling out a tape.

It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before; some tacky porno, with sleazy cover art and a corny title. It’s got your standard, generic shot of a man fucking a woman from behind, with her hands bound in front of her and a blindfold over her eyes.

“This…” He stops himself before finishing with ‘is nothing’, because maybe it’s still a big deal to you. “It’s not worth getting yourself upset over. Why’d you think I’d hate you for this?”

You shake your head. “That’s not the one I’m worried about. I didn’t take anything out, figured I might as well show you everything. Keep going.”

Steve sets the tape on the coffee table before reaching into the box again, pulling out another tape. Similar design layout, but the cover photo is of a woman sitting back, pulling her legs up and back with her, while a man slips a plug into her ass. Steve flips the case over, finding the same couple, positions switched while the woman rims the man.

Steve chokes down a moan, thrown off that you’d be into this, and yet, it’s still not shocking enough to him to warrant kicking you out.

“Y’know this isn’t that bad either, right?”

“Yeah, that’s not the one I’m— you’ll know it when you see it.” You murmur, looking over at Steve, clearing his throat as he adjusts himself on the floor, playing it off like he’s finding a comfy position to sit in. You wish you could tease him over this, but you hold off, knowing he’s going to hate you any minute.

Steve continues plucking tapes out of the box, examining each one, still unsure what would have you so distraught if he were to find out.

Bondage? No big deal. Choking? He kind of figured out you liked that the first time the two of you fucked. It’s common. Free use? You just broke that down for him, so it can’t be what has you upset.

One of the tapes has a few kinks sprinkled throughout; gangbangs, exhibitionism/voyeurism, orgasm denial, femdom—

“Jesus, this one’s got everything, huh?” Steve tries to break the tension, but you don’t laugh. “This… this was the one, right?”

You huff out a mirthless laugh, pulling your knees to your chest before resting your head on them. “I fucking wish, Steve.”

He can’t stand how hard this is hitting you right now. “I don’t need to know, not if it’s going to hurt you. Seriously, it’s your business, whatever it is, and that’s okay. We all have our secrets, right?”

“Jesus fucking christ, Steve.” You scoot over to him and the box, digging to find the one you’re worried about.

“Hey, wait— ” He holds your arms softly, looking into your cry-worn eyes, only making your bottom lip quiver again. “Seriously, you don’t… whatever you’re hiding isn’t for me to know, clearly. And I’m not going to take something that personal to use as leverage to kick you out— why would you even think that? I love living with you. No weird kink is gonna change that.”

The last part almost makes you laugh. Almost.

You wish the way he said he loves living with you didn’t make your stomach flip, either. Any other conversation, that'd be one of the sweetest things he’s ever told you, but you know that’s going to change once he’s too disgusted with you.

When Steve stopped you, your hands had already grabbed the tape. You pull it out, tossing it on the table before pushing yourself back, away from him as you anticipate the worst.

He’s quiet for a bit as you watch his eyes fall on the cover, taking in every detail, flipping it over to read whatever the corny summary says. He looks back at you and just shrugs.

Steve just fucking shrugs.

“Threesomes are… not a big deal. Like, at all.” He doesn’t say this to belittle you or your feelings, more to assure you that there’s worse to worry about than liking porn about threesomes.

You start crying again, silently, as you hug your knees to your chest again. “God, Steve, please don’t make me spell it out.”

As his brows furrow while looking over the tape again, he gives another shrug. “I feel stupid— ”

“You’re not stupid, I promise. I’m just scared to say it out loud to you.”

“Okay, two girls, one guy, having consensual sex together. I genuinely don’t g— ” It hits him, and he feels a little sick, not from your silent confession, not from the topic itself, but the fact he didn’t get it sooner. He hates how he dragged this out, only making you more upset. “... Oh.”

You’re not straight. You clearly still like men, but attraction doesn’t stop there for you. He glances down into the box, finding another tape, one of just two women together. It looks like the one peeking out under that is similar, too.

“Yeah. Yep, okay, there it is.” You push off the floor to your feet, sniffling. “Well, it was cool being friends and… whatever the fuck, but I’ll pack and get myself out as soon as I can.”

Steve scrambles to get up, following you down the hall as you head towards your room, beating you to the doorway. He stops in the frame, blocking you from retreating to the bedroom.

“We’re talking about this. You can’t just… you can’t just drop that and expect me to brush it off, or be disgusted with you. Neither are happening.” Steve’s tone is firm, but everything he says is with care. Your eyes well up with inevitable tears. “Hey, honey, look at me.”

You try pushing past him, but he refuses to let you in. “Stevie, p- please— ”

“No, enough with the hiding. I know this is scary to talk about, but please, don’t shut me out.” He moves into your room, gently pulling you in with him to sit on your bed. “Can I be cheesy and thank you for sharing something so personal? That’s not easy for anyone, but you still did. Even if you thought you had to, that took guts.”

You reach for a pillow to cry into, and Steve doesn’t stop you, just lightly hangs his arm across your shoulders. You lean into him instantly, hugging the pillow for a moment before abandoning it, wrapping your arms around him instead.

“I thought you’d hate me,” Your voice is so small and shattered; it kills Steve that your fear has been weighing so heavy on your mind and heart. “That’s why I was so scared for you to find the box.”

“Nothing could ever make me hate you, angel. I’m sorry I caused so much stress for you.” He hugs you tighter, wishing he could take back these last few hours.

“It’s not like you knew. I’m not mad at you, Steve. I should’ve told you sooner.”

That shouldn’t make Steve huff out a laugh, but it does. The noise he makes turns into a silent, shoulder shaking laugh as he holds you. You’re so confused.

“Steve, what the fuck? You just told me— th- this- none of this is funny.”

He tries to control his laughter, and he does, but only for a moment. A quick pause to kiss your forehead. You push him back, reading his expression, still bewildered.

”I’m sorry, I— ” He runs a hand through his hair as he stifles his laughter, more successful this time. “— lemme grab something quick, okay?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer, just gets up and rushes to his room, snickering a few times to himself. You’re left baffled.

What the fuck just happened? And what the hell is so funny?

There’s sounds of some movement floating out of Steve’s room, soft grumbles of “where the hell did I put that?” and “jesus this is heavy”, making you smile, ever so slightly. He’s only gone for a moment before he returns with an old milk crate, carrying VHS tapes and magazines, it looks like.

Steve sets it on the bed next to you. “This… this is funny.”

Your brows furrow, still trying to understand what the hell he’s talking about.

“You can look, y’know.”

Most of the content is tacky porn, just like yours, mostly straight couples—

Wait.

You’re about to grab a tape, one similar to the film you showed Steve; another threesome porno, but this one has two men, one woman. It doesn’t take you more than a second to get it.

You snap your head up to look at him, holding the tape up, lost for words. “Are you— shut up. You’re joking.”

Steve leans back against your headboard, hands behind his head, almost appearing smug, but he just finds the coincidence really fucking funny. Sure enough, he starts laughing again. It’s not cruel, nor does it have a sharp edge. It’s just his usual warm, sweet laugh.

“I’d never joke about this. I swear.” His smile is like sunshine peeking out from behind the clouds on a stormy day, making you feel comfortable, happy, even. You’re not alone in this, you don’t have to be. Feelings aside, Steve proves time and time again how thoughtful and kindhearted he is as a friend; a completely different person from who he tried so hard to be back in high school.

“You didn’t have to tell me— n- not that I’m upset you did, just hope I didn’t pressure you to say something by being such a crybaby.”

“No, no way. When you said you should’ve told me sooner, I figured well, shit, I might as well come out to you, too.” Steve admits, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I was scared you’d hate me.”

Your heart sinks; why does coming out have to be such a nerve-wracking event? Sometimes even dangerous if you confide in the wrong person. You’re grateful that’s far from the case here.

“I could never hate you, Steve. Never ever.” Though sincere, your attention falls back on the crate, eyes dancing over all of the tapes and magazines when a certain photo sticks out like a sore thumb.

He notices the way you pause, eyes falling on the familiar white border of a Polaroid, peeking out among the mess of filth. He lunges to grab it, but you beat him to it. Your jaw drops with a gasp at the lewd image.

“Steve, this is— ” He reaches out to grab it, but you push back, stumbling as you stand before rushing across the room, Polaroid in your hands. You stare at the photo in awe.

Striding across the room, Steve makes his way to you, about to grab the photo from your grip, “Give it back— ” You hide it behind your back while you’re against the wall, tucked in the corner with a smirk.

“Fuck no, this is karma for making me cry,” You giggle, causing relief to wash over Steve. He’s not even mad about this. He’s just happy to hear you laughing after today. You spin around, head ducked against the wall, studying the photo. “You’re so pretty on your knees, Stevie.”

Steve ignores how your comment makes his stomach flip, sneaking his hands around you to snatch the photo back. Eyes rolling, he jokingly grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, you had your fun.” You twirl around, attempting to grab it back, but he effortlessly holds it high above your head. He tries playing off the blush that rises up his neck and to his cheeks over your comment.

You can’t help thinking, How’d you even fit that into your mouth?

Steve chokes on air, eyes wide, “W- what?”

Apparently, you think out loud now.

“M’sorry,” You whisper, cringing at yourself. Steve just shakes his head as he clears his throat between laughs. He ends up sitting at the edge of your bed, tugging you closer to him, hands in yours.

Glancing up, he locks eyes with you while softly asking, “Are you disgusted by me?”

You stare at Steve, unsure if he’s joking or serious. “What? Because you’re not straight? No way, why would you even ask— ”

He holds his arms out with a lazy shrug. “There ya’ go, there’s my answer to you, too.” It takes a minute for you to understand what he means.

Why does he always have to be a smug little shit when he’s right?

“Okay, wait. Why the fuck were either of us worried? We’re both still friends with Robin, even after she came out.” You and Steve lock eyes before bursting out into laughter.

“It- it’s different when it’s just a friend!”

“Thought we were just friends.” Steve forces a teasing tone to his words, but maybe you’d answer differently this time.

“Well, yeah, but— it’s different since we’re fucking.”

So much for that.

It’s silent for a beat before Steve mutters, “We’re both morons.”

You smirk, “Now, that picture on the other hand, disgusts me,” Steve’s smile falters, your words making him nervous. “Because it looks like you’re totally better at deepthroating than I am.”

His jaw drops, face flushing red. “Okay, listen—”

“That’s a compliment, I promise!”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Steve plucks the scrunchie on your wrist back, letting go to softly snap against your skin. “This still okay?” Your breath hitches as you nod, feeling a hand slide to the small of your back, bringing you even closer to him.

“You- you don’t have to ask, that’s the whole point,” You rasp, trying to suppress the breathy, light groan threatening to break.

“Oh, I know,” Steve gets up, smirking down at you over how flustered you look. “Just wanted to make sure.” He slides past you to reach for the crate of filth before leaving the room.

Resisting the urge to let out a disappointed groan, you mutter under your breath, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m not,” Steve quips as he walks by your room. Now you groan dramatically, and he just laughs while making his way down the hall.

Two can play that game.

You find Steve in the kitchen, looking around in a drawer, until you come up behind him and slam it shut. Startled, he jumps, and you take the opportunity to flip him around to face you, hands grabbing his hips before pinning him to the counter.

“Whoa— ” Steve’s eyes are wide at the abrupt maneuver, “—what are y- you- oh, shit.”

In the blur of manhandling him, Steve didn’t realize his pants are already around his ankles, not until you begin stroking him slowly. He grips the edge of the counter as a shuddered breath slips out, watching you from under hooded eyes.

You spit onto his length, coating his skin for a smoother glide, one that makes his hips buck roughly, challenging the grip you still have on one of them. When he settles down, you lick slowly along the underside of his cock, eyes locked on his as your tongue makes its way to the base, then down to his balls.

As you begin lapping and sucking, Steve’s head falls back against the cabinet, a classic move you usually make; halfway through one of the prettiest moans he’s made yet , he grumbles an “Ow, what the fuck?”

Naturally, you laugh, but with him in your mouth, the sensation of your muffled sound replaces his ruined moan with another. “Fuck, fuck— honey, I- god, I need you.”

His words bring you back to his shaft, one hand toying with his balls, while another reaches around to squeeze his ass, all while you take him into your mouth fully. “H- ohmyfuckinggod,” Steve’s face contorts into an expression at the crossroads of being pained and absolutely blissed out.

While you bob up and down on his cock, making him rasp out an airy cry when he hits the back of your throat, your hand on his backside inches towards his taut, sensitive hole.

He shivers, overstimulated by all three of your actions, “H- hey, angel, you… fuck… y’don’t gotta do th—” His words die on his lips, replaced by a throaty groan as your finger gently circles the tight ring; you moan around him, and he’s a goner, spilling into your throat without much warning.

You were going to leave him with a ruined orgasm, but another idea pops into your head.

“Fuck, fuck m’so sorry,” He’s babbling apologies as his hands fly to your head, holding you down onto his cock, still using your mouth as a personal cum dump. His chest heaves as his high winds down, hands letting up on your head, too.

Back on your feet, you kiss him roughly, but as he allows you in, you’re swapping spit with cum; surprised, he whines into your mouth as he pulls you against him, kissing back with a desperate, pathetic fervor. His fingers dig into your hips, tongue gliding along yours while he tastes himself. As you break the kiss, you murmur against his lips, glistening with the lewd slick, “Swallow.”

With a wicked smile, you step back and watch as he follows your command, adam’s apple bobbing before his mouth falls open with heavy pants.

You stretch up to kiss his cheek, whispering, “Good boy,” before turning on heel, leaving the room quiet, and a breathless Steve who feels filthy.

···························

The next day, you’re up early to catch up on some priorities, including some chores. You’ve got your headphones on while vacuuming, bopping around and (poorly) singing along to I Wanna Dance With Somebody while sweeping the hallway. Both the music and high pitched, droning suction of the vacuum block out any sound, especially Steve sneaking up behind you.

In one swift motion, he pulls your shorts down and pushes into you immediately. The surprise stretch makes you cry out in a little bit of agony, and a whole lotta’ bliss. You’ve got one hand on the nearest wall, while the other keeps you balanced on the vacuum handle as he lifts your leg to go deeper.

Steve rips your headphones off, “Are you always this fucking wet?”

You can’t answer, not with words, not when every and any thought has been fucked out of your head already. All you can do is whimper as your eyes roll back further with each rough slam into you.

The harder he thrusts, the closer you move to the wall, until you’re completely shoved against it. One hand wraps around your hip, the other tangles into your hair to pull you out and bend you over even more. All that holds you up is the wall against your chest, shoulders, and head, along with his grip, departing from their original spots to tug your arms behind your back and restrain them.

“Stevie…”

“This what y’wanted? With your gross, little fantasy?”

You shake your head— not the easiest when you’re shoved against the wall— pouting, and Steve immediately slows down, almost completely. “What’s wrong?”

“More,” is all you can rasp out.

“More… what?” Ever so slowly, he begins to move again. It’s still not enough.

“H- harder,” You murmur, and Steve mockingly hums in understanding, shoving himself to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you.

“Was that it?” He’s asking but he knows the answer.

“Faster,” Your needy little whine is just what he wanted to hear.

His pace picks up, unforgiving while railing into you, “That’s my girl.”

It doesn’t take much longer for Steve to climax, leaving you dripping, without release as he pulls out, satisfied. He swipes two fingers between your folds before they slip inside you, pushing his cum back into your entrance, laughing cruelly at the way you clench around him and groan tiredly.

Steve pulls his fingers out and brings them to your face, tapping your lips with the sticky, pearly slick covered fingers. “Open.” You obey, and gag as he shoves his fingers back farther. They slip back out, and he squeezes your face, mocking you from the night before, “Good girl.”

As he retreats to his room, you’re left alone, still an aroused mess, barely holding yourself up against the wall while trying to catch your breath.

···························

In the last few weeks, you’ve grown more comfortable with less clothing around Steve at home. He’s not complaining, especially later that night, when Steve watches you pass his room with the infamous vibrator in hand. Your outfit of a comfy bralette and shorts earns a double take from him.

“Hey, where ya’ goin’ with that?” He smirks at the bothered look on your face, probably still wound up from being used like a toy earlier, abandoned without your own climax.

“Shut up, Steve.” You grumble, but still stop in his doorway, flicking the switch on the wand on and off. Nothing happens, and you pout. “I think it died.”

“So… put new batteries in?”

“No, it’s like, dead dead. This was the third round of new batteries I put in, and still, nothin’.” You sigh with a shrug, “Eh, good riddance, I guess.”

You’re about to leave when Steve murmurs, “Not like you need it now.” Your face heats up and something pulls in your lower stomach.

“I mean… I do.” You walk away, and Steve follows you out the door.

“Huh? Why? You’ve got me.” It’s supposed to be a teasing joke, but it comes out more sincere than Steve intended.

“I- I’m not gonna just expect you to be in the mood whenever I am and need to… y’know.” Flipping the garbage can lid open, you drop the defunct sex toy into the trash. “Thanks for the memories, you stupid, janky wand.”

Steve snickers, “Yeah, the best memory being the day you needed my help.”

Ignoring him, you grab a glass from one of the cabinets, heading to the sink, but he leans against the edge to block you from the faucet.

Steve smirks; this could be fun. “And no, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

“See, that’s why I like my vibrator. It can’t sass back like a certain someone.”

“There’s many ways to shut a certain someone up.” You shove Steve aside and he scoffs. “Alright, well, next time you need to get off, don’t come crying to me.”

When he leaves, he ends up in the living room, turning the TV on before flopping onto the couch.

You frown and crinkle your brows as you shut the faucet off, muttering in a mocking tone, “Don’t come crying to me. Blah blah blah.”

“Heard that,” Steve flips you off, and from where you’re standing in the kitchen all you see is his arm shooting up above the couch, making you giggle.

“Wasn’t trying to hide it.” You shuffle over to the couch, about to sit on the opposite end of Steve, but he lets his arms fall open lazily, looking at you expectedly. “What?”

“C’mere,” He whines, forcing a pout.

You narrow your gaze, setting your glass on the table. “My vibrator wasn’t this needy, either.”

Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand as he pulls you back down near him. You yelp, landing next to him, fidgeting a bit to get comfortable. “Yeah, well, your vibrator wasn’t this hot, so is it really that much of a loss?” His arm hangs over your hip, while the other reaches for your back; he traces mindless patterns along your exposed skin, prickling as you shiver.

With your back to the TV, its glow slips over you and onto Steve, illuminating his features as the two of you grow into a comfortable silence, as your hands lazily wander his body. It’s only sweet, gentle caresses from the both of you, something you wish you could get used to. Something, a small, mundane detail you wish the two of you had in a relationship.

Except, there is no relationship, and you have to remind yourself often you can’t become more attached and attracted to Steve than you already are.

You’re just friends.

“This is… kinda nice,” He murmurs as you duck your head under his chin, cuddling closer.

Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

“Y’know, if you ever just wanted to, like, hang out like this… I’m cool with it if you are.”

“‘Hang out’, I didn’t know cuddling had a new name,” He softly teases, embracing your frame. “Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask you something, you got a minute?”

“No, Harrington, I’m actually late for a meeting at…” You turn over to read the wall clock, glancing back at Steve, “… 8:36 p.m. We can reschedule for tomorrow though!”

“You’re the worst.”

“But I’m the best at being the worst, right?”

He doesn’t answer, just gives a drawn out, exasperated sigh before letting his head fall forward, onto your shoulders while he sneakily pushes his pants down. Just enough to free himself. He rests there for a few moments before he pulls the fabric of your shorts aside, teasing the head of his cock at your entrance. You whimper and push back against him right as he guides himself into you. The stretch, as always, renders you silent as you adjust to his size.

“Is this what I have to do when you won’t shut up?” His arm winds around your neck, bringing your back flush against his chest; he’s not choking you, but when his arm flexes around your throat, your walls constrict around him. “Yeah, thought so.”

You wait, but no movement comes. No rocking his hips into you, no slow, teasing thrusts; Steve just lays behind you, buried deep in you, enjoying the way you squirm.

“I wanted to get you off to make up for earlier, y’know, just trying to be a good friend,” The last two words came out with an edge. “Trying to reward you for being such a good little fuck toy,” His arm tightens a bit, adding the tiniest bit of pressure; you throb around him, shuddering. “But now, I think you can just keep me warm instead.”

“Steve, please… I- I‘ll be good, I’ll be so good,” You babble, desperate for some kind of movement, some kind of friction, anything. He tightens his hold on you a little more, laughing breathily into your ear as you try moving. You gasp, “Touch me, p- please?”

“I’m already touching you.”

“That’s not what I mean!” You’ve got a short fuse when he riles you up just to drag out the teasing.

Just like the first time, neither of you know when to quit.

“Okay, so what do you mean?”

Whether it’s from the teasing now, or being used earlier. Maybe it’s both, mixed with the feelings you have for Steve that are getting too overwhelming. Whatever the case, you get pissed off enough to touch yourself instead.

“I didn’t say— ”

“I don’t fucking care what you didn’t say, if you’re not gonna do it, I will.”

Sometimes the tension makes you mean, and it’s something Steve likes, but refuses to admit, with his words, at least.

His throbbing cock inside of you, on the other hand, has no problem telling the truth.

“Well, fine, guess you don’t need me then,” Steve’s arm loosens from your neck as he begins to slip out, but with all of your strength, you reach back to hold him in place. It’s an awkward position, sure to make your arm sore tomorrow. You open yourself up a little more, throwing a leg back over his.

“You’ve been teasing me non-fucking-stop, asshole. Least you can do is stay while I get off.” Your fingers try finding a satisfying pattern to tease your clit with, but you’ve been so spoiled with your stupid toys, and Steve, it doesn’t feel the same. Doesn’t feel as good.

You can feel the smirk Steve makes as he leans against your shoulder, looking over to watch your hand and fingers struggle to keep you blissed out.

“Aw, honey, is it too hard for you?” He kisses the back of your shoulder, then slowly makes his way with more up your neck. Your breath shudders as you clench around Steve, just from his words alone. “Doesn’t feel as good as that toy, huh?”

You can feel hot tears begin to surface; you’re angry that you can’t make yourself feel good, angry that he’s taunting you after trying to take over and show him you didn’t need him.

But you do need Steve, and that’s been fucking with you so much since the first time the two of you kissed. That alone had you soaked, but right now, your own fucking hand isn’t cutting it, and you’re angry at how embarrassing this is.

Sure doesn’t stop Steve from humiliating you, though. “Doesn’t feel as good as my hands, hm?”

You bite your lip, holding back groans of frustration, but Steve can feel how tense you are.

“Must not feel the same as my tongue. Not even close,” he murmurs into your ear, kissing the skin behind it, then back down to your jaw. “No way those fingers can ever feel like my cock.” He nips at your jawline, “I bet you can’t get rid of that ache between your legs, not without my help. You need me, don’t you?”

Steve slides his hands onto your chest, tugging the bralette down before roughly, yet slowly, grabbing you. He pinches your nipples, enjoying the view of you arching into his touch, whimpering as your hand slows down on yourself, defeated.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what, Steve?” You spit through gritted teeth. He grabs your face to bring your attention to him. Something flashes across his eyes at the sight of you near tears, not lust, not desire, but you can’t figure out exactly what it is.

“That you need me.” You tighten around him, already giving your answer. He smirks, but again, something’s hidden behind that dominant exterior, past the pleasure over humiliating you.

What the fuck is he hiding?

“I d- don’t,” You lie, but your wobbling pout gives you away immediately.

“Angel, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I can help you.”

You’ve abandoned touching yourself completely, exhausted and embarrassed. Holding one another’s gaze, there’s a softness in Steve’s eyes that makes you finally break. “I- I need you, Steve. Please?”

One hand still teases your nipple while the other slides down, down, down, reaching your waistband before he pulls out completely, causing you to whine in protest.

“Hang on, angel,” He pulls your shorts off completely, leaving you bare before gently sliding back into you, groaning, “Wanted t’really feel you.”

Sex with Steve has usually been rough, or fast, or both. It’s usually needy with desperation to get off. Sometimes there’s a fantasy one or both of you want to fulfill.

This… this is different. Just like the look Steve held, you can’t figure out what is different, but it’s not bad.

In fact, you might like this the most.

“You want me to move?” Steve asks, and it’s not cocky. It’s not the demeanor he was teasing you with before.

“I don’t— do whatever, just need you to touch me,” Your whining is pathetic, but at least he finally reaches down to where you need him. His fingers slide between your folds, groaning when he meets the slick of your arousal. He’s slow, not painfully slow, rather careful as he thrusts into you. It’s soft, and you can feel every inch of him, really feel him.

“This okay?” His breathy question is just above your ear while he kisses along the shell of it.

“So, so okay.” This position might be your favorite, with the way he’s so deep in you, forcing your eyes to roll back into your head as he fills you completely. You lean back into him, and he takes one look at you before leaning in to kiss you, like he knew what you were silently asking for.

It’s soft, languid, the kind of kisses that make you squirm with a certain need, one he’s fulfilling right now.

Pulling back, his lips barely touch yours when he teases, “You’re s- so tight… y’really like it soft, huh?”

You only answer with a nod and a whimper, leaning in to kiss him again, but he moves back with a smirk. It’s not taunting, for once. He’s just really enjoying how turned on you are right now. How much he’s turning you on.

“I like it w- when we— god, fuck— when it’s…” You’re struggling to find the right words, fucked out already. Steve still watches you, listening intently as he can feel your walls pulse around him “… Intense, but this is s- so— oh!”

It’d almost be embarrassing how fast he can push you over the edge, but it feels far too good to care. You shake against him, tensing up as your head lolls back against his chest, jaw dropped in a silent moan. Then, it finally slips out, and it’s loud.

“Good girl,” Steve murmurs, kissing your temple. “Doing so— fuck— s- so good for me.”

Before you can even rest, he convinces you to let him keep going, give you more pleasure, murmuring how you’re ‘his girl’, how you can take one more, just ‘one more’.

By the third round, Steve’s question is long forgotten by both of you.

···························

“Why am I taking the backroads again?”

“It’s a… nicer ride. Just trust me.”

Steve drove along the lonely, winding road. The sunset began to blanket the sky in hues of oranges, purples, and pinks.

“Okay, but… you know it’s a longer drive this way, right?”

You’re leaning over the seat to unzip his pants, and Steve freezes, but not before hitting the gas by accident. He only speeds up a little before catching himself. “Are you trying to kill us?!”

“I only touched your pants. Are you really that sensitive?”

“I- I just didn’t expect it— I’m driving and trying to be safe.”

“Yeah, and I bet you look both ways before making a turn, too.”

“I do!”

You pull his cock out, half hard already, and waste no time leaning down to lick up the precum already beginning to seep out.

“H- hey!”

You pull off. “What? Don’t want this? I can stop.”

“This- it’s just— unsafe.”

“Is that your only complaint?”

“Well… yeah, I gu— shit- ” Steve tries suppressing a moan as you take him in completely without hesitation, and the sound that leaves him just sounds strangled and pained. He white knuckles the steering wheel while your eyes water, gagging around him.

Not a soul to be found on the roads, and Steve’s still nervous he’ll hit something. Or someone. But you’re humming around him, and making these sweet, little gagging noises, he has to remove a hand from the wheel to pull you off of him.

With his strong hand, he yanks you back, still focusing on driving. “I thought you’d like this,” You pout, backing off as you settle back in your seat. “I’m sorry.”

“I do, but I- I think I like it a little too much. As much as I want you to finish, I need to make sure we get to Robin’s... Um, alive.”

“Okay, well… What are y’gonna do about that,” You point to his crotch, cock still hanging out of his pants, flushed red with need with precum still pearling at the tip.

Steve sighs, exhaling roughly through his nose, thinking for a moment as he drives on. He mutters a quick ‘fuck it’ before grabbing you by the hair to pull you back onto him. He doesn’t miss the mischievous smirk that flashes on your face before he shoves your mouth onto his cock.

“You— mnfph— that’s it, just— oh, g- god— relax, angel, relax that p- pretty throat f’me,” His cock twitches against your tongue, making you moan. “Wish I could fuck your face right now.”

Popping your mouth off of Steve, he catches a quick glance of your lips covered in your spit and some of his own mess, “Fuck…” You wrap your hand around his length, stroking him slowly.

“Kinda wish we did this on the highway instead,” You murmur as your lips attach to his neck, sucking the sensitive skin softly. Steve’s eyes almost flutter shut, but he forces himself to grip the wheel and keep his eyes on the road. “It’d be kinda hot, huh? Trying to do this without gettin’ caught.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Soooooo… If I keep going, can you finish before we get there?”

Steve’s answer comes in the form of his hand on your head, twisting his fingers into your hair before shoving you back down on his cock.

···························

It’s under an hour since you and Steve got to Robin and Vickie’s new place, where she said it’d just be a small, casual housewarming party, and two things have you incredibly bothered right now:

This party is anything but small— you didn’t think Robin even cared about this many people to invite them over.

Steve’s kissing someone else right now.

While wandering around to find Steve and ask if you could leave early, you stumbled upon Steve playing goddamn tongue hockey with someone else.

If it happened when you and Steve were just friends, you’d be happy for him, genuinely. Hell, even if the two of you were FWBs and you had no feelings for him, you’d be thrilled he felt comfortable enough to kiss someone tonight that wasn’t a cis woman.

Shit, you’d even be a solid wing-woman and cheer him on for any action. Yet your feelings for him just turned it all into envy. Nothing but envy coursing through your veins. You had no right to say anything in the first place, because it’s not like the two of you were actually together.

It still didn’t settle your jealousy, or the overthinking triggered by the mixed signals he’s given over the last few weeks. The audacity, too, for Steve to pull this only hours after you fucked… just one hour after you gave him road head—

Yeah, you had to leave, ASAP.

“Hey, where ya’ goin’?!” Robin slurred after you, too drunk to get up and check if you were okay.

So you just call over your shoulder, “This was fun, but I gotta go home!” And you knew damn well you weren’t fooling anyone with the way your voice wavered; you hoped everyone was too drunk or distracted.

The front door creaked open as you hurried down the porch steps, relieved to breathe some fresh air, at the very least. The soft song of the crickets in the woods kept you company.

Your arms are crossed over your chest, shielding yourself from the breezy spring air. You wish you didn’t leave your jacket in Steve’s car, but this was better than having to see him kiss someone else.

Until a familiar BMW pulls up alongside you on the empty street.

Harder to shake than a cold.

Rolling the window down, Steve calls out, “Angel, why are you trying to walk home?”

“Don’t you have a throat to shove your tongue down, or something?”

Steve taps the breaks as he mutters, “Fuck.”

“Surprised y’all didn’t do that, either.” You continue on, and he continues following you in the car.

“Please, just let me drive you back? Don’t have to talk to me or anything.”

“No thanks, I can get home on my own just fine.”

Steve hits the breaks, sighing as he throws the car in park. He steps out of the car, leaning on the roof. “Yeah? What direction is home?” You spin around, walking backwards as you throw your arms out, exasperated.

“Fuck you, Steve.”

He bites his tongue, resisting the urge to say some stupid shit like “Already did”; riling you up wasn’t the answer right now. You angrily point in the direction you’ve been walking, continuing on with all the confidence in your body.

“Try again.” His remark makes you whip around, flipping him off, before marching on in the wrong direction again.

Okay, he deserved that, at the very least.

Steve jogs to catch up to you, though it’s not like you made it very far, stumbling over your own feet. You’re about to lose your balance when Steve makes it to you, just in time, catching you mid-fall.

“Alright, c’mon,” He groans as he attempts to get you stable on both feet, before slinging your arm around his shoulders, and yours around his waist. He guides you back to the car, not giving into your little grumbles and protests as he helps you into the passenger seat.

An agonizing silence settles between the two of you on the ride home, and you’re not sure if you can break the silence without crying. So you don’t. Steve has no problem speaking up first anyway, otherwise, the silence will just send his anxiety skyrocketing.

“I’m sorry,” He sounds sincere, as always. He tears his eyes from the road for a moment to glance at you, only feeling worse when he can really see how hurt you are. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it was like… that. With us, I mean. And I’m sorry.”

“S’fine,” Your voice wavers with weakness, “I know what this was. I- I knew what we were getting into. If anyone should apologize, it’s me, ‘cause I had no right getting jealous.”

Steve forgets his response immediately, pausing a moment to take your words in.

“You were jealous?” He almost sounds pleased to hear you admit this.

Oh, god fucking dam—

“….. No?”

“You literally just said you got jealous.”

“I- I don’t— shut up. You misheard me.”

“Oh, I did?” Steve Harrington can be such a smug and snarky motherfucker sometimes. “What’d you say then? Just wanna make sure I hear you correctly this time, honey.”

You fire back, “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Should I just call you a brat instead?”

“You know what, Steve?” You glance over and he’s still smirking like an asshole. “Don’t talk to me for the rest of the ride. Or the rest of the night.”

His face falls. “Why not?”

You don’t answer, just cross your arms and tilt your view to the window, watching the world pass by.

“Are you really gonna shut me out? Over this?”

Again, you hold back any responses. Let him dig his own grave at this point.

“You’re the one who kept saying we’re just friends.” As he reminds you, his fingers are clutching the wheel tightly, eyes glued to the road. “You’re the one—“

“No, Steve. You are the one who said from the start friends can fuck around. You said ‘what are friends for?’ after you went down on me.”

So much for your petty silence.

“You continued it! You said ‘this is what good friends do for each other’, and that fuckin’ around is just helping each other out. How was I supposed to know you wanted more?”

Steve had a point. You tried lying to yourself that you ended up sending the wrong signals his way.

“I— Look, I’m sorry I kissed someone else. And this doesn’t excuse hurting you, but did you ever think maybe I was doing my best not to fall for you?” As he pulls up to the apartments, he sinks into his seat, sighing. “I should’ve been honest from the start, or maybe should’ve ran out for batteries instead of fucking around with you and both of our feelings to begin with. I’m sorry.”

You’re exhausted and intoxicated, out of energy to continue this. Unable to look at Steve, you mutter, “Can we just… talk about this tomorrow?” There’s no chance for him to answer, because you’re already out of the car and making your way through the lobby and to the stairs.

···························

Steve took his time returning to the apartment, wanting to give you space, but also in case he got upset enough to cry, too.

He was so, so fucked, and now… he fucked everything up. Sure, you didn’t make it crystal clear how you felt about Steve when you could’ve so much earlier. But it’s not like he did any better.

When he enters the shared space, everything’s dark, and quiet. He figures you went to sleep, since your bedroom’s door is closed. To his shock, though, he finds you asleep in his bed.

Maybe you mistook his bed for yours while being drunk and tired. Steve’s unsure if he should sleep on the couch, to give you more space. But maybe you fell asleep here purposefully. Or maybe you waited here for him and eventually passed out, too tired and upset to keep yourself awake.

You’re half covered by the blankets, wearing only your panties and his shirt again, the one you’ve practically stolen at this point. Steve notices your scrunchie still on your wrist, the subtle symbol you’d give if you were in the mood for free use play. He also notices the way your skin is prickling up; you’re definitely cold, but you’re too drunk to wake up and do something about it.

Steve reaches down and slips the scrunchie over your wrist, setting it on the nightstand, then pulls the covers over you. Immediately, you curl into the blankets, making the softest hum of contentment, falling deeper into sleep.

Or so he thought.

As he changes and strips just to his boxers, Steve hesitates, questioning again if he should sleep here, or the couch. Consumed by trying to make the best choice, mainly for you, your hand reaches out and grabs his leg weakly.

“Stay?”

Your eyes are red, both from exhaustion and crying. Steve feels awful.

He also can’t pass up an opportunity to tease you lovingly. “Honey, I appreciate the invite, but this is my room.” Your hand lifts to flip him off. “Yeah, there she is.” He huffs a quick laugh out, before double checking, “Are you sure you want me to stay? I- I can give you space if you need.”

“I need you, not space.” You roll to the other side of the bed, throwing the covers back. “Please?”

Steve felt his heart ache; this wouldn’t make the dreaded conversation any easier by morning, but he didn’t want to say no, because in some backwards way, the two of you need one another right now.

He crawls in next to you, pulling the covers back up over both of you. He holds himself back from reaching out for you, an action that’s become second nature over the last few weeks.

Instead, he asks, “Can I hold you?” Steve hates the way his voice cracks with longing, giving away how awful he felt. For himself. For you. For the both of you. It wasn’t supposed to end up in this strange suspension between lust and love. It should’ve stayed a one time thing, if at all.

Only silence comes from your side of the bed as you’re already falling back asleep. Steve turns over and hopes sleep can come that quick for him, too.

····································

When morning arrives, you wake up peacefully, naturally, and with a major headache.

“Fucking christ.”

You roll over, realizing the other side of Steve’s bed is empty.

Wait. Why am I here?

You didn’t forget last night, but you can’t come up with a good reason as to why you decided to fall asleep in Steve’s bed instead of your own. Not a justifiable reason in sight after the car ride home.

Blinking a few times as you adjust to the bright light, something on the nightstand catches your eye.

It’s a note, with a water bottle and your cute little pipe with a packed bowl. A smile joins your features as you read the note.

hey, angel. figured you might need these for the rough hangover.

if you still wanna talk when I get home, we can. if not, we can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us. either way, you better stay hydrated today. or else. not sure what the ‘or else’ is yet, but I mean it. drink your damn water.

— steve ♡

While the note, the tiny heart near his name, and kindness behind it made your smile grow, your heart aches at one line.

We can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us.

It’s sincere and considerate, like Steve is, other than last night, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know you fell for him during all of this, so could you even count that against him?

Steve’s more worried about your comfort in all of this than his own; he always does this, he always puts everyone’s needs and feelings first.

Before you can even fully wake up, you’re reaching for the phone on the table, dialing without much thought. It rings twice before a familiar voice answers.

“Family Vi— ”

“Robin! Is Steve there? Can I talk to him?”

“Yeah, hi to you too,” She deadpans.

“Sorry. Hi. Hi Robin. Hello. Please give Steve the phone, pleaaaaaasssseeeeeee— ”

She scoffs, and you can hear the eye roll she makes, “Oh my god, shut up, shut up. I’ll get him.”

“Thank you!” You’re a little too enthusiastic in your reply. It’s quiet for a minute until you hear someone pick up the other end’s receiver.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve’s immediately jumping into worry mode.

“Nothing’s wrong, why would something be wrong?”

“You never call here. Just… surprised me, is all.”

“Oh… well, look, I- I just wanted to say, about the note—” ”

“Was it too much? I’m sorry if I— ”

“Steve, shut up for a minute. Please.” He pushes a soft, quiet laugh through the phone. You can picture him with his arms crossed, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, leaning against the counter. Robin’s probably rolling her eyes. “We can… we can talk tonight. I didn’t want you to go the whole day worried about it.”

It’s silent on his end, other than distant, soft breaths. “You didn’t have to call. N- not that I don’t appreciate it! Just… y’know. I kinda have an idea of what’s coming. And it’s okay. I just want you to be—”

“Steve, I’m grateful you’re always looking out for me and my feelings, but that’s why I called. I want you to feel comfortable too, okay? Whatever works for you, works for me.”

“I— ”

“Steve, get off the phone! You can talk to your girlfriend later!”

Steve lazily covers the mic, but you can still hear him quip back, “She’s not my— whatever. Give me a minute.”

“Thirty seconds!”

“Jesus, what bug crawled up Keith’s ass?” You joke, earning a sigh from Steve.

“Definitely something annoying, like a mosquito.” He snickers back into the phone before clearing his throat. “Um… can we talk in… two hours? I can come back on my bre— ”

You cut him off anxiously. “Yes. Please. Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay, two hours. Yeah. Okay. See ya’ then.” Steve sounds nervous, rushing off the phone before hanging up first.

Two hours. Not that long. You should be fine.

Totally fine.

········································································

It’s been an hour, and you’re ready to move on from chewing your nails nervously, to gnawing your entire arm off.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit much. You’re still nervous as fuck, though. How can you last another hour like this?

You passed up the weed, wanting to be as sober as possible for the conversation, but you hate taking painkillers, so you keep the lights off and throw a pair of sunglasses on; the light is the worst for you with hangovers, but this barely helps.

Even worse, your head’s spinning and the constant stream of thoughts revolving around you and Steve make you dizzy. You stay in his bed, covers pulled up and blinds drawn to keep out the light, with your headphones on to block out any noise outside the apartment. They’re not even plugged into your Walkman, you’re just hoping the barrier of silence helps.

It doesn’t. You hear no sound, but your head is still pounding. Maybe you should’ve smoked after all.

The blankets are yanked back, startling you into a scream. It stops as soon as it starts when you see Steve. He’s chuckling at your reaction, and though you’re relieved to see it’s him and not some monster or masked intruder, your heart’s about to jump out of your chest.

Gently, he pulls the headphones off of you. “Sorry, honey. Uh… why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”

Every time he calls you that, or angel, you feel yourself melt. The hold this man has on you is insane.

“Hangover, lights suck, all that stuff.” You grumble, falling back onto the bed. Steve sits next to you. “I- I thought you said two hours?”

“Yeah… waiting was driving me nuts. So, I, uh, I left for the day.” He rubs the back of his neck, gaze shying away, but not before he notices you’re still wearing his shirt, and not wearing pants.

You’re shocked he pulled that off. “What’d you tell Keith to leave early?!”

“My great aunt’s in the hospital.”

You stifle a laugh, “Steve, didn’t you use that excuse a few months ago?”

His eyes grow wide. “Shit, did I?”

“Oh my god, yeah! You had me call to pretend— whatever,” You crack up, head falling back with a loud laugh. “You gotta keep track of these excuses!” You cradle your own head, wincing from the pain your own loudness brings.

“Hey, you didn’t— ” Steve’s eyes darted to the nightstand, about to tease you for not smoking yet, but you haven't touched the bottle of water either. “Jesus, no wonder your head hurts.”

“I didn’t wanna be high when we talked,” You grumble, about to lay back down, but Steve holds you upward, handing you the water. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You take a sip. “Happy?”

Steve lets you go, running a hand down his face with a sigh. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You’re mid-sip before choking on water, struggling through a cough to ask, “I- I- did you— what did you just say?”

“Uh… good question. You heard that? I said that? Out loud?” Steve rambles a lot, but he’s great at it when nervous. “I think you’re imagining things.”

“Would’ve worked if I was high, but nice try.”

He groans with an eye roll, flopping onto the bed, landing on his back. His hands come up to cover his face, but you pull them back.

“I didn’t want to say it like that.” His admission comes without eye contact as his face burns red. “I wasn’t gonna say it at all, honestly. I kinda figured out this is the end of things anyway.”

“Wait, what? Steve—”

“N- not that it’s a bad thing!” You haven’t let go of his hand, and he’s either completely oblivious or doesn’t want to let go. “I’m— whatever you decide, I’ll respect. We can go back to being friends, or even just… boring roommates, if you want.”

“Okay, but— ”

“And since it’s all out there— not saying this to make you feel guilty, or bad, or anything, but I- I thought these feelings were new, and it turns out I’ve felt this way about you since… probably the first week we lived here.”

Your heart aches, but in the best ways; you need to tell Steve you feel the same.

“Stevie, listen—”

“But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can move out, if that’s easier.”

If only he’d shut the fuck up.

He’s getting himself worked up, and you wish he’d just take a minute to breathe. “Not, like, forcing that either, because if you just wanna be friends still, I- I’d be more than happy… and lucky to have you in my life still. But that’s- it’s— I’m not trying to—”

You’re growing agitated, wishing he’d give himself some grace. “Steve, take a second to— ”

“And I mean what I said last night, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I thought maybe it’d help distract me, but it just hurt you instead… I just fucked everything up—”

“Oh, for the love of— ” You swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, throwing your sunglasses off in the process. Leaning down, tone dripping with adoration, you murmur, “Steve, shut up.”

You kiss him, hoping this pauses the overthinking. He’s stunned, expecting anything but this. The two of you have kissed plenty of times by now, but this one is everything to him.

Finally, Steve kisses back, earning a smile from you against his lips. You cradle his face in your hands as you feel his run along your back, holding you against him as any uncertainty floats away. Breaking the kiss, you don’t pull away, just admit softly against his lips, “I love you, too.”

He sits up, leaning back on his arms with eyes wide in disbelief, “You- are you- you mean it?”

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t suffer through a hangover for just anyone, you know. I wish it didn’t take the whole battery incident— ”

“You mean vibrator incident—”

“Oh, will you shut— it’s all the same! Anyway,” You giggle, a sound Steve adores, one that pulls a smile across his face every time he hears you. “That’s when I realized I had feelings for you. A- and you coming out just to make me feel better about coming out, that really woke me up… and, uh, do not let this get to your big head—”

“My head is not big!”

You narrow your stare, shutting him up. “… When I saw you with someone else, and it made me so jealous, I’ve never felt that with anyone before. I didn’t think it was love until you came looking for my dumb, drunk ass on the street.”

“Someone had to, you were on your way to fucking Canada if you kept walking in that direction.” Steve snickers, but kisses your cheek, softening the blow. You can’t help huffing out a laugh with him; honestly, he had every right to poke fun at your little stunt.

Your voice falls quiet, turns small, “I’m sorry I never said anything earlier, and that I kept pushing that ‘just friends’ bullshit.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better,” Steve tries steering you away from taking the blame, “You’re a way better kisser than they were.”

You snort, “You’re just saying that.” It doesn’t stop your skin from prickling up, or the heat that blooms across your face.

“I’m not, I promise. You weren’t kidding, they literally shoved their tongue down my throat. You running off gave me an excuse to leave, so… thanks.”

You can’t help teasing him, “What are friends for?”

Steve rolls his eyes for the millionth time before sitting up to push you back onto the bed. He climbs on top, and you tug at the ugly Family Video vest he still has on.

“Babe, get this stupid thing off,” You giggle, tugging it down his arms. He pouts.

“What? You’re not into it? I thought it was kinda sexy,” His brows wiggle with his joke, and you throw it onto the floor, glaring at him. “What if I wore that, and nothing else? Just the vest.”

You’re pulling his shirt off, throwing that to the floor, too. “Then I’d definitely kick you out.”

Steve leans down to you, murmuring, “You’d never.” His lips brush against your jaw, kissing along your face to reach your neck.

“You’re right, but— ” Your breath hitches, holding your words back as he continues to kiss down your neck. “—w-we definitely wouldn’t fuck for a long time.”

“Now that’s a threat I take seriously,” His words against your skin vibrate and tickle, sending shivers up your spine. Then, he stops, and sits back up.

“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” You instantly cringe at how pathetic you sound, but Steve doesn’t tease you for it, just kisses your forehead quickly before leaning over you.

“Sit up,” Confused, you listen as he takes all the pillows around you, cushioning and covering the headboard. As he comes back to you, he pushes you back softly. “Okay— ”

Now it clicks. “Oh my god, I’m not gonna hit my head this time, I swear!”

He smirks, “Better safe than sorry.” Stealing your chance to quip back, his lips are back on yours, and it’s the kind of tender kiss where he likes to draw it out, take his time. The kind that only makes you squirm from the start.

“Hey, what’s got you so worked up?” Steve pulls back, resting his hand on your face; he can feel the goosebumps on your face prickle up against his palm. His touch is warm, soothing, and easy to gravitate to; you’re certainly not immune to leaning into his hand whenever he does this.

“Need you, Steve,” You breathe, legs closing underneath him to try and subside the ache between your legs.

“I wish I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that,” He teases, pushing your legs apart, fixated on the damp patch on the fabric between your legs. You whine, rolling your hips against nothing, only showing how needy you are. “‘Cause if I did, I’d have enough to get you a new vibrator.”

You feign offense with a loud gasp, “I thought you said I wouldn’t need it anymore, ‘cause I have you instead.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your panties down. His hands run up your legs, pinning you to the bed as he reaches your hips. It’s not like you were going anywhere to begin with, but the pressure and possessiveness feels… nice.

“You do have me,” The meaning behind his affirmation spreads far beyond sex. “Always.”

You reach for his pants as he leans over you again, “Don’t have you in me yet, though,” You grumble, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. Steve stifles a laugh while you struggle. “Who designed this fuckin’ thing anyway?”

“I thought we were having a sweet moment, but your sailor mouth’s ruining it,” His joke doesn’t make you laugh like he hoped. Instead, you just look frustrated, finally loosening his belt. “Whoa, hey— honey, look at me.”

A sharp exhale escapes your lips while you glance up at Steve, but only for a moment before staring off, “M’sorry.”

“We don’t have to do this, you know that, right?” A finger slips under your chin, gently tilting your face up towards his. Your eyes meet his again, and he gives you the same soft, caring look he gave you a few nights ago. “I’m perfectly content with just hanging out the rest of the day, doing whatever you want.”

“I want to, I really do, I just… ” You try forcing your voice to come out stronger, more certain, but it just cracks as you admit, “I think I’m scared it’ll end so fast.”

Steve thinks back to the first time the two of you kissed, the first time you were fully exposed to him, the first time he went down on you— the first time anyone went down on you, how disappointed you sounded when it was almost over. He remembers telling you it could happen again, that it didn’t have to be a one time thing.

He remembers the way you hit your head against the wall, again, the first time the two of you fucked, and how he told you next time it’d be in a bed, helping you laugh off the clumsiness. You sounded so surprised that you even talked about the possibility of a ‘next time’.

Almost every time after either of you initiated anything sexual, your reaction was always shock and surprise when Steve talked about fucking around again in the future. There were more times where you begged him to not let it end yet, but he thought it was just in the moment.

Steve didn’t realize you meant you didn’t want things between the two of you to end. It wasn’t ever really in the moment. It was a fear you’ve had since the first time he’s touched you, and it’s a fear of Steve’s, too.

“Angel, I’m not going anywhere,” You move up against the pillows as he speaks softly to you, shifting with you to keep you comfortable while staying close. “I can’t speak for you, but on my end, I don’t plan on ending this fast. Or ever… but that- that’s another conversation for another day, okay?”

You nod, slipping your hand into his, “Okay.”

“Point is, this isn’t a one time thing. You really do have me. And when I say always, I mean it.”

There’s no hesitation in your response, “You have me, too, Steve. Always.”

“Let me take care of you,” His hand is cupping your face again, thumb sweeping along your cheek softly. “Get those awful thoughts out of that pretty head of yours. How’s that sound?”

You nod against his palm, hands coming up to hold his forearm as he holds you. “Please, Stevie.” Your eyes fall to his belt before reaching for it. You pull it off, adding it to the pile of his clothes. “That thing is the worst.”

“Won’t wear that one around you anymore, promise,” Steve chuckles as the two of you strip each other from any remaining clothing.

His lips find their way back to your neck, picking up where he left off with the gentle kisses. Your hands wander his body, tracing along the dips and curves of his toned arms. It’s easy to lose yourself in the scattered freckles and moles all over, making up constellations, a galaxy of his own. What brings you back is the breathy moan made from his touch along your folds.

It’s one finger, then two, and you’re arching your back, pressing yourself against him, dizzy from shallow breaths as he finds your sweet spot. His long fingers have no problem reaching where you need him most, not struggling the way you do when you touch yourself.

Steve starts kissing down your body, but you grab him by the shoulders. “You okay?”

“Stay with me,” You gasp as he continues fucking you on his fingers. “I- I don’t— it feels good, but I wanna cum with you instead.”

A blush creeps along Steve’s face as a lazy smile curls up. He makes his way back to you, retracing his kisses with new ones, of course. When he rests his forehead against yours, his hand’s still between your legs.

“Still wanna make y’feel good first,” Steve’s thumb softly swipes over your clit while he continues working his fingers, curling them just right. “You can cum twice, you’ve done it before.”

Your fingers twist through his hair, bringing him towards you as you close the gap, trying to kiss him the way he was kissing you. Your hips roll onto his fingers, feeling your legs shake and your walls constrict around him.

Steve pulls back, admiring the way your face twists in an expression of beautiful agony, so, so close to the edge. He leans down to murmur into your ear, “That’s it, angel, let go for me”. Other praises follow, but you’re just at the point of no return, unable to hear him as you finally reach your high, a strangled moan slipping between your lips with ease.

Aftershocks roll through your body while you pant shallow breaths, vision a little fuzzy from your eyes squeezing shut, and Steve kissing your temple, then your cheek, with more gentle praises, ones you can faintly make out.

You’re barely settled, still in the comedown, but you’re pulling Steve closer, “Fuck, I love you.” He beams, knowing already he’ll never get tired of hearing that from you.

He spreads your legs, but stops to study your expression. Checking on you, he asks, “Are you sure you can handle one more?”

“Uh-huh,” You try to giggle, still breathless as you nod. “As long as it’s with you.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but you know him, he loves the corny little remarks you shoot back and forth. You know him. You know him so well by now, because he’s yours. And you’re his.

“Hey, angel?” He’s admiring your figure, still catching your breath, already blissed out with hooded eyes, and the sweetest smile he’s ever seen on your face. He lines up with your entrance, slowly pushing in while he leans back down to you with a lingering forehead kiss.

“Y- yeah?” You shudder out, adjusting to him all over again. His hand slips into yours, fingers lacing together before he gives a gentle squeeze.

“I love you, too.”

The first night you had together, when Steve offered to help, it wasn’t meant to just be a one and done kind of fling. Maybe it felt like it back then, and maybe even last night, while the two of you fought over your feelings, it felt like it should’ve been an arrangement that ended long ago. But now? Now, everything’s so sure. Everything’s so certain.

With Steve, everything’s crystal clear.

It only takes the first thrust for the two of you to meld together with ease. It’s almost effortless, the way you and Steve can flow into and with one another. You’ve never felt like this with anyone else, never felt so comfortable, so at home within someone’s embrace, never felt such safety to be yourself completely.

At the same time, both you and Steve give each other the same, cheesy line, “feels like you’re made for me.” While neither of your movements stop, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. Steve buries his head into your shoulder, while his shoulders shake along with the noise. Your arms wrap around him, laughing even harder when he realizes he can feel you laugh while deep in you.

“Hey- h- hey wait, waitwaitwait!” He can’t control his laughter, and neither can you. “Every time you do that it— fuck!” He’s trying his hardest to calm down, hoping you can, too. “You gotta stop doing that, I can- you- fuck, you’re so tight.”

You cover your face with your hands, trying to kill your giggles, and slowly it works, leading Steve to calm down, too. With a quick kiss to his chin as he lifts his head, you flip on top, riding him immediately.

Any laughter still at the back of Steve’s throat dies instantly as you grind down onto him. You finally find a steady, slow pace to roll your hips; there’s no rush, there’s no fear it’ll all disappear when the two of you finish. It’s just you and Steve, nothing else, no one else.

No distractions or kinks or secrets, just the two of you, together.

“Honey, m’not gonna last if you k- keep this up,” he breathes, strong hands on your hips, gently guiding you along.

“S’okay, I- I’m close,” You whimper, hand splayed against Steve’s chest. “A- and we can just— ” You sharply gasp, walls constricting around him. “we got all the time in the world, Stevie. You have me, always.” Your head tilts back as pleasure consumes you both, feeling him throb while your legs shake.

Before the two of you reach that sweet high together, you faintly hear Steve respond, “Y’have me, too, angel. Always.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #my fics #*slaps post* this baby can fit SOOOOOOO much angst in it #fic: crystal clear #fic: unnamed roommate trilogy

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pufflyhallows · 5 years ago

Text

Getaway

Gif not mine

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Business is going bad after the war and Fred is not feeling so great, so you decide to cheer him up with a special trip.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, language, tiny tiny bit of angst, still fluffy tho

a/n: this is my FIRST smut EVER so... be nice? also, Fred fucking LIVES bc I’m in denial forever lol

Word count: 4,3k

********

You wanted to surprise Fred.

He had been feeling down lately. Ever since he and George reopened the shop after the war, things had been a little tough. The movement was still quite slow, given the fact that people were still recovering from the war, mourning their lost ones and starting new lives. It was a difficult time for everyone, and of course it affected Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes as well.

What ached your heart the most was the fact that there wasn’t much you could do to help him. Every day you watched as he took longer to get out of bed in the morning, how he sounded slower and quieter when talking to you and, the worst part, how he acted quite mechanic when doing his chores around the shop, the same ones he enjoyed so much in the past and had always gotten done with a bright smile on his face. And although he never stopped caring for you or being loving to you, the bedroom had become… inactive. And you missed it. You missed being intimate with your boyfriend, but every time you tried to initiate it, he would softly decline, claiming to be too tired. You believed it. You could see he was indeed exhausted. And not only physically, but mentally too. Perhaps the latter was actually the one weighing more.

George, however, was quite the opposite. He kept his optimism high and was always the first to wake up every morning, excited with the new day and new possibilities. He would often go out and promote the shop, talk to people and sometimes even manage to bring a customer in.

This big difference between them worried you. No, you did not expect the twins to act the same, but you hoped in secret that Fred would follow his brother’s steps and cheer up a bit.

Cheer up. Yeah. That was exactly what he needed. And what better way to cheer up someone than a surprise trip? That’s how you were going to take his mind off of work. With Hermione’s help, you planned a very romantic weekend trip out of town. You talked to George beforehand, of course, but he assured you he could take care of the shop by himself for two days. He agreed Fred needed this.

“It’s not like we’re getting many customers anyway,” he had said.

So, as Friday approached, you felt the excitement building up. You managed to act completely nonchalant around him, making sure he didn’t suspect a thing. It wasn’t a big, expensive hotel because you knew he would worry about money and that was the opposite of what you wanted for this trip. Hermione had helped you pick a small, comfy hotel that was quite charming and fit your pocket perfectly. You wanted to make sure Fred felt loved, cared for and relaxed. There was also a little extra surprise inside your suitcase that you really hoped he would like…

What you didn’t know was that Fred felt guilty. He reckoned he hadn’t been the boyfriend you deserved lately, but he couldn’t help it. The stress was almost eating him alive and his mind was always wandering back to the shop, worrying about its future. You had been so kind and patient with him, he knew you deserved better than that. The whole thing was snowballing and sometimes he couldn’t see it ending.

That Friday, when you got home from work, the shop was still open and there was actually a customer inside, talking with George. You felt relief wash over you, because you knew what that meant: Fred was probably in a good mood.

You walked straight to the flat, not daring to interrupt George, but you stopped in the middle of the stairs to watch. He was speaking with such enthusiasm, showing and explaining his products to the young boy, that it filled you with pride. You caught his eyes for a brief moment and noticed the smallest of smirks appear on his lips. Smiling back, you nodded at him. Fred was nowhere to be seen, though, so you went upstairs.

There was a delicious scent coming from the kitchen. The older twin was there, cooking. You smiled to yourself at the sight. His favorite The Weird Sisters record was playing somewhere in the flat, adding a familiar, comfortable feel to the whole scene. Fred’s back was facing you while he chopped… carrots? on the counter. He didn’t seem to notice your presence just yet, so you took advantage of that. Placing your bag on the nearest chair, you walked in quiet steps towards your boyfriend. The fresh mint aroma coming from him meant he had probably just showered. Oh, and how you missed showering with him.

You couldn’t refrain your smile from growing even bigger once you noticed Fred’s body was swinging from side to side, so imperceptibly that you almost missed it. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek on his back. You felt him tense up for a mere second before realizing who it was. He soon relaxed, letting go of the knife and placing his clean hand on yours.

“Didn’t hear you coming in,” he stated, voice low and raspy.

You hummed in response and placed a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. Fred turned around and briefly met your lips with his.

“It’s gonna take a while. Why don’t you go take a bath?”

“I will,” you nodded, running your hand from his chest to his shoulder and squeezing it gently. “How was your day?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay”, you repeated. “Well, I hope I can make it better. I have a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes. I have an idea of how we can spend your days off.”

“Hm… Making plans already, are we?”

“Very good plans, yes. But you’ll have to wait until dinner.”

“Or you could tell me right now so I won’t have to.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You smirked and gave him another peck on the lips before rushing off the kitchen and leaving your boyfriend to his curiosity and imagination.

The warm bath made you think about a lot of things and you came to realize you were very lucky. The war was over and there you were, taking a bath in your boyfriend’s flat, the person you loved the most in the world. So many people lost their loved ones, their homes, their entire lives in that war. You knew you had many reasons to feel happy and should not take them for granted. Life was good for you right now, and you acknowledged it, promising to yourself that you were going to enjoy it the best you could, with Fred by your side.

George joined the two of you for dinner, which turned out to be the best you had in months. Not because of the food, although it was perfect, but because it felt like everything was back to normal, like all the meals you had shared before the war. Maybe it was the idea of a day off and the mention of a surprise from you, but you could see that Fred was already less gloomy or aloof.

After the meal, as if sensing you wanted to reveal your plans to Fred, George excused himself to his bedroom, claiming he still had to finish some work. You wished him goodnight, not missing the discrete wink he gave you.

“So…” you started, watching as Fred emptied his glass of pumpkin juice. “Remember when I said I had an idea on how to spend your days off?”

“Oh, yes. The surprise.”

“Well… I figured you could use a little rest from everything, so I made a reservation at a very nice hotel for the two of us to spend the weekend at.”

“You what?” Fred asked, a small smile starting to grace his lips.

“The portkey is set for our departure at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts,” you shook your head. “I have already packed our bags.”

“Y/N, doll, I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me I’m amazing, the best thing that ever happened to you, an angel sent from heaven… Something humble like that.”

Fred chuckled, that contagious sound you missed hearing so much. “You’re amazing. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, a true angel sent from heaven.”

“I know! We’re gonna have so much fun,” you smiled excitedly, clasping your hands together.

“What exactly are your plans for us, though?” your boyfriend questioned, curiosity dripping from his lips.

“Oh, you’ll find out once we’re there.”

“The surprise doesn’t end here, I see.”

“Exactly. I have everything planned, baby.”

The look in Fred’s eyes seemed to indicate he had an idea of what you had planned, but he did not say a word about it. He would like to see the surprise reveal itself in the right moment. He wasn’t going to spoil your plans in any way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You always had your doubts when it came to ads, but this time you had to admit this was spot on. The hotel looked exactly like its pictures and descriptions.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” the receptionist asked as soon as you stepped in the lobby.

It was something so small, so simple, but it made your heart flutter and stomach fill with those restless butterflies. Mrs. Weasley. Were you ever going to become that? You wondered if Fred even noticed the little misunderstanding.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Actually, it’s just one Weasley. Fred Weasley. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your slight flustered manner didn’t go unnoticed by Fred. Despite the obvious nervousness, he thought it was rather cute. In fact, he liked to hear you be called that. Perhaps he should do something about it…

“Oh, I apologize. Mr. Weasley and Miss Y/L/N,” the receptionist corrected herself as she checked the reservation’s book. “You’re right on time, your room is ready for you. I just need your wands for ID confirmation before I give you your key.”

Both of you handed your wands to the young woman behind the desk and she did as she was supposed to. Sooner than you had anticipated, you were in the lovely suite you had reserved.

Fred placed the small handbag on the bed – blessed be the extension charm, that’s all you had to carry for that trip – and walked around the room curiously. You went straight for the big window and opened the curtains. There it was. The view you had seen on the ad and that had made you instantly choose this hotel.

“Fred,” you called softly, looking behind you. “Come see.”

Your boyfriend let go of the catalog on the nightstand and approached you, eyeing the outside in awe.

“Wow,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?”

When making the reservation, you were met with the question: would you like a room with view to the street/village or to the beach? And you chose the beach, although the village was a lovely sight. Now, seeing Fred’s reaction, you were absolutely sure you had made the right choice.

The hotel was in a small village where both wizards and muggles lived. With a little help from magic, the wizards could go unnoticed and the muggles lived everyday life without a single clue of the existence of such peculiar neighbors. The beach was right behind the village, and your room being in the back of the hotel, you had a wonderful privileged view of nature’s beauty.

“Wanna go down there?” you asked.

“What’s in your plans?” he asked back, switching his gaze from the window to you.

“Beach,” you replied with a small smile. “Basically the entire day at the beach, lunch at a muggle restaurant down there too. But dinner here.”

“I’ll follow your script, doll.”

Fred placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer, pressing his lips ever so gently on yours. You instantly let go of the curtains so you could run your fingers through his soft hair. The light fabric fell back to its place, covering the windows again and leaving the room a little darker than before. Fred’s gentle kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

No, not yet.

You broke the kiss and pulled back, biting your lip as you started to feel that you might not be able to wait until the right time for your surprise.

“I’m starving,” you whispered against his lips.

“Me too,” he pulled you closer again.

“Let’s go, then.” You managed to get out of his embrace and grab the handbag before heading to the bathroom to change into your bathing suit.

A hungry Fred was left standing by the big window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been hard.

It had been hard seeing you in so little clothing, dripping wet, skin glistening as droplets of water reflected the sunlight. But Fred managed.

All he had in his mind every time he saw you leaving the water was how he wanted to take you then and there. He had to distract himself from those thoughts, paying attention to what you were saying but not too much to your moving lips. He knew you had something planned and he was appreciative of how much effort you had put in this weekend for him. That was the only reason he wasn’t indulging to his not-so-pure thoughts.

Lunch was a good distraction too, specially since you had to convince a muggle child she had imagined it when she saw Fred stop his falling fork mid-air.

Now, as the two of you walked hand in hand back to the hotel, he wondered if he was going to be rewarded for the self-control test he had just passed. You were humming a song as you observed the houses, trying to guess which ones were muggles and which ones were wizards.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Dinner!” you answered excitedly. “But, if I were you, I wouldn’t go overboard.”

“Why, if I may ask?” but Fred already suspected why.

“Well… there might be plans for after dinner as well.”

Fred held your hand tighter and pulled you towards the hotel in a faster pace. You chuckled, feeling the excitement grow bigger and bigger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dessert?” the waiter asked as he took the empty plates from your table.

“No, thank you,” Fred replied before you had the chance. “We’re calling it a night, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

“Actually,” you smirked at your boyfriend before looking at the waiter. “I’d like chocolate pudding, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as the waiter left, Fred gave you a look.

“What?” you asked nonchalantly.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t go overboard.”

“I’m not going overboard. I had a small plate,” you shrugged.

“Right,” Fred sighed, bouncing his leg under the table.

When your chocolate pudding came, you grabbed the spoon and took a small amount to your mouth. Fred watched your every move, arms crossed and brows slightly furrowed as he saw you slowly lick the spoon. You pretended you didn’t know he was watching, eyes on the tiny bowl in front of you, and you mouthed another spoon, unintentionally getting pudding all over your lips.

Your boyfriend gulped as he watched you run your thumb over your lower lip, getting rid of the chocolate there, and gently suck on it.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,” he mumbled.

“Hm?” you looked at him innocently.

“Just eat the damn thing.”

“You want some?” you raised the spoon at him.

“Yes, I want some.”

You felt your cheeks burn just a little bit with his remark, heart begin to race as the ideas for what you wanted to do to him tonight started to flood your mind.

“If you wait patiently, you might get what you want,” you teased, looking back at the bowl and already serving another spoon, which you quickly brought to your lips, licking all the content off of it.

Fred shook his head, one corner of his lips going upwards ever so slightly, eyes glued on you.

“You sure you don’t want to taste it?” you offered again, lips glistening as you cleaned them with your tongue.

“I will taste it,” his eyes pierced through your body and suddenly the hotel was too hot.

You had barely served the last spoon of pudding when Fred stood up and let the waiter know you were headed to the room.

“I haven’t finished yet,” you protested and he immediately took the last spoon from your hand and into his mouth.

“Now you have,” he said as he pulled you from the chair.

The way back to the suite felt much longer than it actually was, but as soon as you reached the door, Fred’s lips were on yours. You had trouble to get the key with your boyfriend’s hands all over you, pulling your body hard against his.

“Fred,” you breathed, stepping back. “There’s another surprise.”

Before he could say anything, you unlocked the door and went inside.

“Sit down,” you slowly pushed him to the bed. “And close your eyes.”

Fred complied with no protests, but you could see he was getting flustered, probably guessing what was coming.

You blew out most of the candles illuminating the room and left only a few to create the romantic atmosphere you wanted. You went to the bathroom and changed into the expensive lacy lingerie you had bought for this exact occasion. It was red, a color you had learned Fred was very fond of when it came to this kind of clothing, and had one small, delicate bow right between your breasts.

“Are your eyes closed?” you asked from the bathroom, hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah,” you heard in response.

“No peeking ‘til I tell you to,” you warned.

“…‘kay.”

You opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. Fred was still sitting on the bed, one leg bouncing impatiently, and a slight frown between his eyebrows.

Slowly, you approached the bed and stood right in front of him.

“Open your eyes,” you whispered.

As soon as he did, Fred sucked in a shaky, quiet breath. He eyed you from head to toe, not hiding his astonishment.

“Baby,” he mumbled in a deep voice, already feeling his pants get a little too tight as his eyes still traveled through your entire figure.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip.

“Good,” you smiled, placing your hands on each of his shoulders. “Now let me show you how proud I am to be your girlfriend.”

Your lips met Fred’s in a slow, deep kiss as you climbed the bed and straddled him, your arms thrown around his neck. Fred let out a soft moan when he felt your weight against his lap, his hands going up your back, fingertips sending shivers down your spine as they searched for the bra clasp. However, you stopped them and placed them back on your hips.

“Not so fast,” you whispered against his lips.

Before he could protest, you kissed him again, now pushing him all the way back to lay down on the bed. Hovering above him, you started pulling up his shirt, which he quickly got rid of for you. You chuckled. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had missed this.

Now that you had free access to his torso, you began to place soft, wet kisses on his neck, slowly moving down to his chest and stomach, painfully taking your time.

You could feel Fred’s breathing get deeper and deeper as you kissed his abs, working your way down to his pants. Once there, you stopped the kisses for a brief moment, so you could focus on getting rid of that piece of fabric. Again, Fred quickly helped you out until you were both just in your underwear.

The sight sent goosebumps through your body and you inevitably bit your lower lip. He was already so hard, you felt the anticipation building up inside you.

You decided to torture him for a little bit – just a little bit – and carried on with the kisses, not taking off his underwear quite yet. However, Fred’s impatience was growing and he didn’t think he would manage to wait for too long. His hand found your hair and he started stroking it, running his fingers through it, a disguised way to guide your head to where he needed you the most. You realized his intentions, but you did not stop him. You let him take you where he wanted and soon your lips found his still covered length.

“Shit, Y/N.”

You smirked.

Slowly, you started pulling down the last piece of clothing until you completely freed him. He was so beautiful. You still had a silly smile on your face as you ran your tongue all the way up from the base to the tip, where you placed a gentle kiss. Fred’s soft moan reached your ears, a beautiful sound that made you even more wet.

You took him in your mouth and started sucking the tip in a slow, teasing pace, while your hand loosely stroked him. You didn’t want him to cum yet. You wanted him to last. And you were going to make him last.

Fred’s hand never left your hair, and he began to slightly pull it, asking for more. He needed more.

“Y/N,” he moaned. “Y/N, please.”

You ignored him and kept going in that insanely slow pace, taking your time. What was the hurry?

You heard a low groan, and felt him move his hips against you. You stopped.

“Behave yourself, Weasley.”

“Baby… Please.”

You smirked again, giving him one last stroke, and you let go of him.

Fred looked at you in a way you hadn’t seen in a while. His eyes were dark, full of pure lust. But also desperation and discontent with the sudden lack of touch.

You crawled on the bed until your face was right above his, and you kissed him. It was a deep, passionate, hurried kiss between two people who were eager for each other. This time, you didn’t stop Fred’s hands from going up your back and unclasping your bra. He took it off and you quickly felt his left hand on your right breast, squeezing it. His right hand, however, was going up and down your side, sending shivers through your bare skin. He rested it on your waist for a little bit before going down to your ass and squeezing it tightly. You moaned against his lips, your own impatience growing.

You only stopped the kiss to get rid of your panties, the last piece of fabric separating you from him.

Fred watched as you got off of him and started to pull it down your smooth legs. He could feel his cock throbbing at the sight of your completely naked body. You were breathtakingly, heart-racingly beautiful. He loved the lingerie, he really did, but he loved your body a thousand times more. And he would never get tired of looking at it.

When you straddled him again, skin to skin now, he thought he would cum right then and there. You smiled at him, that beautiful smile that never changed, and kissed him one more time. Fred placed his hands on your waist, squeezing it gently, as if to encourage you. Not wasting another second, you guided his tip to your entrance and slowly sank down on him, allowing him to get all the way inside you, quite easily given how wet you were.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned.

Letting out your own whimpers, you placed your hands on his chest and started riding him, still slowly, still teasingly. Fred’s moans soon turned into groans, complaints. He was getting tired of the teasing, he was already on edge. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a swift move, Fred shifted the both of you so now he was on top. He started thrusting into you, quite roughly, earning a loud approving moan from you.

“Fred,” you gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He kept going, pounding harder and harder, moaning as he did so.

You started kissing his neck, biting, sucking, anything that would leave a mark.

“Yes, baby,” you cried out as he thrusted even deeper.

The bed was making a discreet creaking sound that you weren’t sure if the people in the other rooms could hear. You hoped not, but honestly? Right now you didn’t care. The sound of Fred’s heavy breaths, moans, groans and whimpers were all you were paying attention to. Beautiful sounds that had the power to shut down anything else in your mind.

The rhythm he had created was sending you to heaven with every motion. His lips soon found your own again and he kissed you as if he hadn’t done it just minutes before.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m close.”

“Me too.”

As you felt your body tense, Fred came inside you with a low groan, slowing down just a tad bit. He kept thrusting, however, knowing you were about to reach your climax too. And not long after him, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, and your body relaxed completely.

Both of you were panting against each other’s neck, your arms still loosely around his shoulders as he slowly pulled out and collapsed on top of you.

Hugging him more tightly, you felt Fred leave small kisses on your neck, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the extra-tingly sensation. You started to run your fingernails up and down his back, the other hand caressing his hair.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could hear the waves crashing on the beach, the giggling of children playing down there, and the muffled music coming from the muggle restaurant. You felt so at ease.

After a long moment of peaceful, comforting silence, Fred looked up and smiled. “I love you so much.”

You smiled back. “I love you too.”

Not bad for round one.

********

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