#drew this before christmas and I’m speechless... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orbitariums · 4 years

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𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟏)

notes: y’all !!! this is the smut you have been waiting forrrr, and then some! lemme know yalls thoughts!! luh u. adding tags later! ♡

playlist ( always updating! )

warnings: smut!, unprotected sex (but be safe! also miss yn will not be getting pregnant. it ain't that typa story), cuteness and rainy days <3, talk about diets

word count: 14.3k

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

When you woke up, your legs were entangled with Steve's, your arms out in front of you and his arms draped over your stomach. He woke up a bit earlier than you had, but he stayed there, not wanting to disrupt you or leave you. It took you a moment to settle into the day, the blur before your eyes disappearing slowly. Then, Steve's touch against your body registered, and you sighed, sprawling out before him, absentmindedly pressing your backside into his crotch. Your eyes shot open when you felt the very obvious and abnormally large bulge prodding into you that Steve was trying to withhold.

Normally you might have tried to initiate something, tried to tease him even more, but even though the sheer size of the bulge caused a twinge in your stomach, you snapped back to reality easily. Everything became very apparent: where you were, who you were with.

"You up?" Steve asked, his morning voice quiet and warm with a side of gruff.

"Mmm," you sighed, turning over to face him. You smiled, fondling his face gently with your fingers. "Yeah. Morning."

Steve returned the smile, almost becoming giddy like a child on Christmas at the touch of your hand on his face and the sound of your slightly raspy yet dulcet morning voice.

"Did you sleep well?" Steve asked, and you chuckled, patting his cheek once,

"You're a gentleman. And yes, I did," you leaned in to kiss his lips, sweet and soft.

You did it casually, as if you always woke up next to each other in the morning, but in reality it was magical. The touch of your lips against his was still so foreign to him, like something he was trying to understand and savor the taste of. And despite all your confidence you still had to work up quite the nerve to kiss him like this.

Steve blinked slowly, taking a good look at you, gazing into your eyes before leaning up against his pillow,

"Big day. There's not much to unpack, but we're gonna be leaving here and going to my place. We check out in about three hours. If there's anything you wanna do, just let me know. I'm gonna let you get ready."

"Okay!" you grinned, and sprung out of bed.

You got ready quickly, not wanting to miss a second of your day with Steve.

All he could do was watch you get ready from the slightly ajar bathroom door with a satisfied grin on his face - you were such a beacon of light and he loved to see that you genuinely enjoyed spending time with him. And you were so cute getting ready, bouncing around on your feet and blushing your face, leaning into the mirror to apply your makeup, which came out rosy and natural when you were done. You didn't often apply a lot of makeup in the mornings anyway, and good for Steve, who liked to be able to really see your face. Then again, in his eyes you were beautiful no matter how you decided to look.

At some point Steve gave you your privacy, and you came out of the bathroom in your outfit for the day- a tie front white blouse with a lacy black bra that peaked out from underneath, and a pair of loose fitting jeans. And of course, your given accessories - pearl earrings, a small necklace, and a few spritzes of perfume. Steve, as always, was pleased with your appearance, staring with wide, appreciative eyes.

You lifted your arms up, only showing more of the bra you wore beneath, and your tummy, chuckling,

"You like?"

"I love. You always look amazing somehow," Steve grinned, getting up himself. He approached you and took your hands in his, giving them both a squeeze. "I'm gonna get ready, then we can do whatever you like until we have to leave."

You decided you wanted to share breakfast with Steve the same way you had shared dinner last night, only a bit more casually and not as elaborate. Steve was down with anything you wanted to do, and even though he tried to apologize because you couldn't necessarily go out for breakfast, you refused to let him. When you got the room service, you ate outside in the same chairs as last night, but you curled up into your chair, pulling your knees into your chest as you ate French toast, fresh fruit and scarfed down a good amount of mimosa.

"So beautiful being so far up here," your eyes sparkled as you looked out along the New York skyline, above all the business down on the streets, only knowing blue skies twinged with orange, the sun settling in the sky.

Steve looked out at the sky where you were gazing, and squinted in admiration, smiling back softly at you,

"New York can be beautiful, despite what they say."

You giggled, shaking your head,

"Believe me, some of my friends would have choice words for me if they knew I was in New York. They still haven't gotten out of their whole: 'west coast is the best coast' mindset."

Steve just chuckled wearily, spouting some of his wisdom as he looked out at the sky,

"I can't say I believe in any of the rivalry... but I'm Brooklyn born and raised. Can't take it out of me. Even after all this time."

Steve's wistful voice drew you in- you wanted to know more about him. For once, he wasn't just a history project, but he was a human. Everything you learned about him only opened your eyes further, and you were a sucker for learning new things.

"What was it like?"

Steve turned to face you, nodding slowly,

"It was... hard. Parents died when I was young, I didn't have many friends besides Bucky. And honestly, I'm not one to pity myself. I made it this far, I guess. And I loved Brooklyn growing up. I was sick as a dog half the time, but the other half of the time I was spending it around the greatest places in the city. And getting my ass beat 'cuz I didn't know when to shut up. Sure, the movie theater got torn down for some mall and the place Buck and I used to go for milkshakes doesn't exist anymore, but... I had that. In the city I loved, and still love."

You hung on to every last word of Steve's. Everything he said just rang true even though your life experience was nothing like his own. You were gathering that Steve did have a hard life, just like the papers presented, but he made it work in his own fashion. It was what had got him this far: his drive, his belief in himself and others. And although modern life wasn't something he was used to, he was taking it day by day. And he didn't say this, but it was much easier adjusting with someone like you by his side. You were the young old soul Steve needed, and a breath of fresh air at the same time. It was a part of the reason you were so delicate to him, so special.

"Must've been hard. It doesn't sound like pity to me. I think you just don't like talking about yourself," you grinned softly.

"Huh," Steve laughed. "You're right. Never have."

A beat passed, then Steve spoke again.

"You have something," he uttered gently, leaning forward hesitantly until you gave him the go with your reassuring eyes. "Just here."

His eyes were soft and trained as he leaned in across the table, dabbing at the corner of your lip with his finger at the powdered sugar that had landed there. The food on your oblivious face only made you even cuter. And while the action was nonchalant for him, it felt so intimate to you for him to reach out and touch you so gently, to do something so tiny for you. You couldn't help the way your smile grew as you watched him dust off his hand afterwards, leaning back into his own seat.

"You're honestly so cute, Steve," you sipped at your mimosa, and he chuckled goofily, shaking his head and looking down at his plate.

"I- I don't try to be-" he stammered.

Steve was so bashful he could hardly form a competent sentence, but all you did was laugh it off, eyeing him from the rim of your mimosa glass. You had him, for sure. Who else could render a grown man, especially him, speechless?

In the time that you woke up and finished breakfast, the hours had passed by and you and Steve were ready to leave. Packing up again wasn't a hassle as you had only spent the night there and Steve was there to help. You glanced out the window, squinting your eyes before you left the room. Clouds seemed to be settling in the sky, hiding the sun that you had been admiring so highly just a few minutes before. You didn't mind though, in fact it didn't take away from your love for the New York City skyline. Sure, you had cloudy days in SoCal, but you were used to sunshine. This was refreshing, almost. The gloom was comforting, the heavy clouds seemed to close in on you and hug you. It felt cozy.

You pointed it out to Steve as you left the room, your fingers mingling with his until you held his hand gently.

"Looks like it's gonna rain," you commented.

Steve looked out the window by the elevator and sucked his teeth, frustrated,

"Ahh, this conflicts with our plans. I was gonna try to get us out somehow, but we can't really do what I planned if it's going to rain."

"Steve, it's okay," you smiled up at him genuinely, squeezing his hand and stepping into the elevator. "I'm sure whatever you had planned was great, but I'd love to spend the day inside with you in your apartment. If I'm gonna be there for the next two weeks I might as well get settled in, right?"

"You really don't mind?" Steve asked, wanting to make sure you really were okay with it all, and you nodded.

"Yeah. When I'm with you, I have fun. I don't mind what we do."

Steve gathered the nerve to reach down and kiss the top of your head, the simple, sweet gesture making your body fill up with excitement like a balloon. The smile on your face only got wider. You wanted to keep count of all the kisses you shared - four thus far. You wouldn't admit it, but this was the most whipped for a man you'd ever been.

"You're sweet," he praised you, and this time you were the one getting bashful, looking down at your feet.

You exited the elevator and headed into the same secluded back area as before. Steve put on quite the oblivious show, carrying both your heavy bags to the car, his muscles flexing unforgivably as he reached up and easily put them in the back of the car. Normally you would've offered help but you had no problem leaning against the back door, watching him work his magic. He grunted as he stored away the last of your luggage, and that set your whole body on fire. You doused it out quickly though, when he turned and faced you with an incognizant smile, looking exactly like a golden retriever puppy dog. Steve turned you on, but there was something undeniably adorable about him that made your relationship far more than just sexual.

"You ready?" he asked, squinting slightly.

You nodded, smiling softly. As per usual, Steve opened the door for you when you got into the front passenger seat of the car. You wanted to tell him he didn't have to, but you stayed silent, because something in you told you that there was a part of Steve that did it subconsciously, still used to tradition and the art of being a gentleman. When Steve got into the car next to you, you felt your chest swell with excitement knowing that you were on the way to his apartment, and that this was still only the beginning.

"I'm excited!" you locked eyes with Steve, and that feeling came bubbling up inside of him, that feeling that he couldn't resist you and the bright smile of yours that matched your luminous heart.

He started driving and you looked out the window at the streets passing by, taking in all the morning glory of New York once again. Steve kept stealing glances at you, your head nearly pressed up against the window as you drove past buildings and people. Every once in a while, you'd point in amazement at a particularly expensive or tall building, or point out places you'd just die to visit. Steve noted all of it mentally, resolving to himself that he'd take you to these places somehow, even if you couldn't necessarily be together in the public eye.

You played soft music in the car, making small talk and mindless conversation during the half hour drive from Brooklyn to Manhattan. It was just as you were pulling into the lot in the back of the apartment that it started to rain, and not just rain, it started to pour. You shrieked with excitement when you ran out of the car like a giddy child, leaving Steve no time to open the door for you. In the rain, you couldn't help but feel free, spreading your arms out like an eagle and yipping. Steve seemed disgruntled, not wanting you to get soaked or even sick from the cold downpour, but you didn't seem to mind.

"YN, you're gonna get soaked!" Steve warned, opening the trunk and starting to bring both your bags out.

"That's what she said," you trilled, and you knew you were being childish, but you reassured Steve that you were fine. "Steve, it hardly rains where I live. I need to have this."

Steve shook his head, but he laughed at the reminder that you were a sunshine girl at heart,

"You're crazy."

"Okay, okay! I'll help, and don't try to get me not to," you sauntered over to your luggage, dragging it behind you while Steve followed, chuckling to himself.

You were both soaked, and by the time you got inside to Steve's floor, you had tracked rainwater inside his house. It dripped off the sleeves of your blouse, off your shoulders and hair. But you weren't worried about that right now. You were glad to be inside Steve's apartment, the place you'd be calling home for the next two weeks. His apartment was nothing like the luxury penthouse, but to you it was even better.

It fit Steve's style, comfortable and homey, full of browns and neutrals with dark wooden floors, and almost rustic in feel. Looking at the apartment, you wouldn't have guessed that it belonged to the same man who put you in a private jet yesterday, but it was still nice and spacious. It gave Steve that human quality, and you could tell that was probably what he was looking for.

Steve watched as you walked around the apartment, introducing yourself to the new surroundings, and closed the door behind him.

"Welcome. Hope it's not too dull."

You turned, still soaking, water splashing on the floor as you did so,

"Never too dull. I like it. It's real homey."

"Good, because we'll be here for as long as you stay," Steve nodded, remembering again that you'd be here for two weeks, which honestly felt like a long time. He wanted to make sure every second was satisfying.

"That's fine with me," you smiled. "But uhm, I should probably change. I don't wanna ruin your floors."

"You won't ruin my floor. Fair though, I should change too. We're both soaked." A beat passed, then mindlessly Steve added, "I can give you one of my shirts."

You paused slightly, not because this was something you didn't want, but because it seemed so intimate to you to wear another guy's clothing. It meant that you would be wrapped in his scent in the form of an oversized t-shirt or whatever he planned to give you. He noticed the way your demeanor shifted and looked up, brows raised inquisitively,

"Is that okay?"

A goofy smile spread out across your cheeks and you nodded slowly,

"Yeah, perfect."

You changed in Steve's bedroom while he changed in the living room, and you couldn't help but linger a bit, looking around at all his things and what was in his room. It was a simple bedroom, not much in it except his bed, dresser, night tables, and a bookshelf full of hefty books he probably hadn't gotten to reading yet.

On top of his bookshelf was a drawing pad, but you didn't dare look through it - you knew how personal something like that could be. There was also a photo album with no photos actually in it, but he had tucked a bunch of pictures into the first page of the photo album. You smiled to yourself - you knew he'd probably been meaning to stock the album but just hadn't gotten to it yet. You noted this as something you could help him do while you spent time together.

You heard Steve shuffling outside of the room, so you came out of his bedroom and walked into the living room where he seemed to be setting up, looking for something to do.

"Hey," he looked over his shoulder at you, occupied with one of the shelves in the living room. He looked over again, making a double take, this time with his brows furrowed and his eyes intense. "Hey," he repeated with some intensity, pausing to take you all in.

He hadn't thought much about giving you his clothes to wear but now that he saw you in them, it was like he got the wind knocked out of him. His clothes draped around you perfectly, dangling down your legs and leaving plenty of space. His hoodie practically hung to your knees, and underneath you were only wearing a pair of cotton gray booty shorts. And not to mention, you had ditched the bra, so he could see the outline of your breasts through the hoodie he gave you, nipples poking through.

He was trying not to be so juvenile about the fact that he could practically feel all of you through your clothes - his clothes - if he were to touch you, but man did you pull it off. Besides, you had obsessed over the smell of his hoodie when you put it on, you wanted to bury your face in it the rest of the day, but you settled for putting the hood over your head instead.

And anyway, you weren't immune from the thirsting. You too looked Steve up and down, dragging your eyes along his figure, which was especially apparent in the t-shirt he wore that seemed to cling onto his muscles just the right way. And who could forget the grey sweatpants that hung almost explicitly low on his hips.

You both were thinking the same thing: "You have no idea."

You cocked your head to the side, your voice coming out quieter than you'd intended,

"Hi."

"Uh," Steve cleared his throat, turning back to the bookshelf. "Sit! I was thinking we could play board games, maybe some cards."

"I'm down!" you sat with a grunt on the pillow that was by the end of Steve's long coffee table in front of his couch.

"Cool, so I've got Scrabble, Sorry, Uno..."

Steve went on with the choices and you eventually settled on Uno. Towards the beginning you said it was a game of luck, but when you won the first two rounds, you started to spout knowledge about strategy and how Uno was a game of supreme genius. It was all in good humor, but Steve was actually competitive like you.

You griped at him, warning that you didn't want him to let you win, and he actually laughed at you, replying: "Come on, doll, who do you think you're playing against? We aren't friends right now." Steve's competitiveness was quite fun to see up close and even a turn on. It was game on. You were five games of Uno and two and a half board games in when you yawned, and Steve's ears seemed to perk up as he looked at you.

"Tired?" he asked, and your eyebrows came together, confused. You didn't even realize that you had yawned.

"Mm-mm. Tired of beating you, maybe."

Steve snorted, shaking his head,

"You're hilarious."

"Right?" you teased, making a face like it was obvious.

"I do think we should take a break though," Steve sat up and dusted his hands off on his pants, and you refrained from making another sore winner joke, following suit and getting up yourself. "I can make you some tea and we can maybe watch a movie."

"Sounds good to me," you grinned, following him into the kitchen.

It was still raining outside, and the rain ran down the small window in the kitchen behind the sink. You stood at the window, folding your arms against the counter and placing your chin on top, gazing outside as the rain poured. It was a dreary but cozy day, and who better to spend it inside with than Steve, playing board games with him in his hoodie?

After putting the kettle on, Steve glanced over at you, your arms perched on the counter, looking out at the rain falling before you. He smiled silently. You were so cute, and he loved catching you in wholesome moments like this, when you were all to yourself, like no one else was there. He got a good scope of what your life was like when you weren't together through Snapchat and everything else, but now you were under such specific circumstances. In particular, you were with him. But in this moment, he could have a real life glimpse of what you were like when you were truly alone.

He went to go pass by you, and you stood up, turning on your feet to face him, trapping the two of you between the island counter behind Steve and the sink counter behind you. You were so close together, Steve hovering you while his eyes searched your face, before settling on your own eyes.

"Hey," you grinned softly.

"Hey," Steve replied, dimples showing when he smiled and you both leaned in, closing the little space between the two of you and letting your lips brush together and then flush, skin against skin.

The bristle of Steve's growing beard tickled your chin as you pressed your body against his, this time purposefully grinding your waist into the growing bulge as you deepened the kiss. Your lips together were soft and moist, mouths sharing the same breath. The rain seemed to grow even louder then, pattering hard against the window behind you, the skies darkening ever so slowly. You tilted your head, then Steve turned his, your noses sweeping against one another as you tried to find the perfect placement, the perfect pace, settling on this slow, passionate embrace of your lips.

Last night the kiss had been desperate, almost hot and feverish although slow. This time the sensation was as if you were accustomed to the feeling of your lips against each other's, learning the curvatures of the other's mouths. It was unhurried and sensual, needing more but not digging desperately. It was just apparent what you both wanted.

And you were all too wrapped up in it, your breaths becoming heavier and filling in the silence outside of the sound of the rain pounding on the window. His hands gripped the small of your back tighter, pulling you in closer to him, while yours explored both sides of his face. Your touch sent the most pleasant churning sensation down into his stomach, making that bulge in his sweatpants even more apparent. A quiet, faint moan left your lips, the sound of it sending Steve into a frenzy. You could feel him gearing to press into you more, telling you without words what you both wanted, revving to kiss you harder, until the shrill whistle of the kettle resounded in the room.

Five times you'd kissed now.

You both pulled away, alarmed, but Steve still kept his hands on your waist, his erection still poking furiously against you. Just the bulge tucked away in his pants knocked the wind out of you - you couldn't imagine what it would feel like inside you. But now all those hot and heavy feelings were slowly sloughing away as you returned to innocence, feeling sort of flustered at how quick you'd both been to try to veer this congregation of your lips into something more.

Since that morning, something had been in the air. Maybe it was the fact that you were inside all day and it was raining outside, so it made you feel like there was nothing better to do than have sex, but whatever it was, it was getting to the both of you. And soon there would only be one thing left to do.

You cleared your throat, your voice settled although your face was frazzled, and you could hear the smile in your voice,

"You should get that."

Steve seemed to snap out of it at last, blinking fast as he peeled away from you, nodding strongly,

"Right."

You bit your lip and sat up on the kitchen sink while Steve prepared the tea. As much as you wanted to help and be close to him, you had to cool off first. You and Steve both knew what you wanted, and you knew if you let it happen, it would simply happen. But you each wanted to hold it out just a little while longer. It was just a question of how much longer that would actually be.

It seemed that you had enough time to compose yourself while Steve made the tea, asking you faintly how many spoonfuls of sugar you liked and if you wanted milk or cream, and you replied with your preferences. Steve walked over, handing you your tea, and leaned against the island behind him while you swung your legs back and forth on the counter in front of him.

He reached out his mug,

"A toast."

"To rainy days," you decided.

"To rainy days."

You sat in silence while you took the first sips of your tea, delightfully warm and settling in your stomach in just the right way.

"How about... I order some pizza, and we watch a movie," Steve suggested.

"Deal," you bit your lip, grinning at him and hopping down from the counter.

The pizza came once you finished your tea, and during that time you had both been sitting together on the couch watching junk TV, like those fake court shows that you found yourselves unusually invested in.

Steve set the pizza on the coffee table in front of the couch and opened up the box, and you leaned in to give it a whiff.

“Okay. I have a... kinda stupid question," you said after a little while, while Steve put pizza slices on plates for the both of you.

"There are no stupid questions here."

"I know, but it's stupid anyway," you bit down, wringing your hands together a bit nervously - you didn't want to come off the wrong way.

Steve noticed how your whole demeanor changed as you turned towards him, cross legged and wringing your hands together, and he couldn't help but chuckle, trying to calm you down,

"What are you about to ask me, doll?"

You laughed at how weird you realized you were behaving, and shook your head,

"I was just wondering, you know. Do you ever, like... have to diet?"

Steve actually burst out laughing, and you couldn't help but giggle along. You knew you were silly to think that he would actually be upset with you asking him something like that. And as he was laughing, you really relished the sound of his laughter. He'd chuckled before here and there and it brought you little bursts of joy, but here he was giving you a genuine belly laugh, sonorous and fully amused. It was nice to see him loosen up a little bit. He finally regained his composure, but a hand was still on his belly as he shook his head.

"I can't believe that was what you were asking me. I thought it was gonna be something difficult and soul searching the way you were acting," he teased you, but then he placed his hands over yours. "You know you can ask me anything, doll. I won't get offended."

"Promise?"

"You have my word. Besides, I don't think I could ever get mad at you. To answer your question though... I guess I have to regulate myself. But, you know, the serum... gosh, it sounds so weird to say that... it makes things a lot easier. I can't just pig out all the time though, and I still have to train. 'S not something I worry about too much, but it's not like I'm eating junk food that often anyway."

�� "Oh," you nodded, actually intrigued to hear this information. You didn't want to treat him like a Captain America encyclopedia, but you, like thousands of others, had very curious questions about him. It was just your luck that you could actually ask him these things, the most reliable source there was. "That makes sense."

"Uh huh," Steve passed you a plate, topped with the cheesiest pizza you'd ever seen - it was true, New Yorkers didn't play with their pizza. "You know you don't have to diet though, right? Not if you don't want to."

Your heart warmed at Steve's unwarranted kindness. Of course he would think you were wondering this for yourself, and the fact that he checked in just in case made you want to squeal.

"You're so lovely," you couldn't help but reach over and stroke his cheek before letting your hand fall back in your own lap. "I know. I really just got curious, that's all."

"It's real cute," Steve commented, laying back on the couch. "Now, what movie do you wanna watch?"

"Hmm... well have you ever seen Harry Potter?" you asked, your voice going up a pitch as you got suddenly very excited, realizing that if things went as planned and Steve liked the Harry Potter movies, you could spend your two weeks binge watching and rewatching them on your inside days, and watching even more movies with him that he hadn't seen.

"I haven't. It's been written down in my little book for so long," Steve said, not realizing he let the existence of this "little book" slip.

"Little book?" you raised your eyebrows, and he turned his head to face you, smiling sheepishly.

"It's a little lame, but I keep a bunch of pop culture stuff that people recommend to me in this little notebook. It's how I keep up with the times. God, I sound like an old man."

Your heart soared at the knowledge of this notebook's purpose. You found it so endearing that Steve kept a record of the things people recommended to him, even if it was a little sad that he still felt like he had to adjust. You wanted to pour suggestions into this little notebook and treat it like a bucket list in the two weeks you had together, without adding too much pressure on him. One of the things on that bucket list would for sure be to watch the Harry Potter movies in their entirety.

"No!" you nearly growled, your voice raising louder than you had expected, rushing closer to him and putting your hands on both his shoulders. Steve's eyes were wide as he watched you, not expecting this sudden surge in energy. "Not lame, Steve."

You often restricted him from deprecating himself, always reminding him who he was as both a figure and as a human being, and he appreciated that. But this time around you seemed extremely ardent and sincere, adding some bass in your voice as you tried to get him to see.

"Okay," Steve nodded slowly, still wide-eyed and a bit shocked.

You blinked hard.

"Not lame." You realized you were being intense, and relaxed a bit, but Steve had no idea how happy the knowledge of that list made you just now, and you never wanted him to feel like it was silly or lame. It was just a reminder that he was in a world so strange and new to him, and he was making the effort to fit in. That was all that mattered for you. "I'm sorry, it's just... I really find that very sweet. Literally never stop doing that."

Steve grinned, patting your knee to reassure you,

"I promise I won't stop."

"Good... 'cuz if you do I'm just gonna make you a new list," you smirked, and you settled back down, Steve shaking his head playfully as he put on the first movie.

Your eyes glowed with excitement as the opening began, the notorious fanfare twinkling in your ears, and you scooched in close to him, wanting to cuddle. He obliged and placed his broad arm over your shoulders, pulling a plush blanket over the both of you while you snuggled your cheek into his chest. You'd cuddled the night before but you hadn't had the chance to really take it in.

Now you were doing just that, and it felt so right being so close to Steve, being so laid up like this. It was romantic. It was what couples did. And although Steve's heart was beating, trying to make sure he was doing every little thing right, you settled in immediately, your head on his chest calming his pulsating heart.

He was quite invested in the movie. In all honesty, he'd heard lots of good things about the Harry Potter series, but he never took the time, because he never had the time to watch them. He was glad you seemed adamant on getting him to watch the movies and catch up on all the references he missed out on. And watching the movies was entertaining. But even better than just watching the movies was getting to be around you.

You snuggled into Steve like you were just meant to be tucked under him, and you weren't afraid to get close to him, your head on his heart and your legs in between his. Steve kept peeking down at you, your eyes glued animatedly to the TV as Harry, Ron and Hermione explored the dark halls of Hogwarts Castle. You even quoted the characters at times. And honestly, your commentary was the best part of all.

You spent four hours sitting through the first two movies, just huddled in together, away from the rain, the empty box of pizza sitting in front of you. You felt safe with each other in the dim lighting of Steve's living room, alone together in the most intimate of ways. And while it was wholesome, being so close and locked in together was sure to make those feelings from earlier spring up again. It was in the background of both of your minds, though you each worked so hard to keep the movie and the innocent touching at the forefront.

Steve didn't want to initiate anything until he knew you were ready, because he didn't want it to feel rushed. The both of you knew that your relationship was built on this very sexual and physical basis, so you weren't exactly shying away from it. But there was a difference in doing it online and doing it in real life, and this was something you both understood without having to say it aloud. So you were each tentative, because you both wanted it, but you weren't sure when it should happen or how to say it explicitly.

Being locked in like this the whole day, though, when it was so dark and rainy outside, definitely got you both in the mood quicker. Your desires were unspoken, but they drifted in the air when you were together, even during these innocuous, wholesome moments. It was why when you got up from the couch to get ready for bed, you had this one thing hounding your brain, fighting to come up to the forefront. You tried to tell yourself you were just being a horny 20 something, but god did you want him. In every sense of the word you wanted him, and it made you feel a lot better about wanting to get physical with him. There were actually strings attached, and you wouldn't have accepted that if it were anybody else. But with Steve you were glad the connection went beyond the physical.

But that physical connection? You wanted to plug into it very soon.

"I think I'm gonna take a shower," you said after you got up from the couch, stretching a bit.

Steve's hoodie stretched up your legs, showing the tiny pair of shorts you were wearing underneath. You followed Steve's eyes as they raked up your thighs all the way to your face. Flustered, he replied,

"Yeah, that's- that's fine. I'll uh, clean up, and we can go to bed."

"That sounds great," you smiled warmly, again feeling that cozy surge in your tummy and heart that reminded you that you had Steve all to yourself, that you were doing these intimate things like sharing the bed and wearing his clothes, cuddling while watching movies on a rainy day.

It all honestly felt like the beginning of a relationship, without all the pressures of a typical relationship. The uniqueness of your situation made a lot of things different, but that didn't always mean harder.

You had made up your mind about the physical intimacy, though. It was why you snuck that lingerie set into the bathroom when you got ready for your shower.

As you showered, you mulled over your mind how you would approach Steve. You didn't want to catch him entirely off guard or take him by surprise. Your confidence reassured you that you hadn't been reading the signs wrong, that this was something you both wanted. You still wanted to approach this the right way. And although you weren't exactly nervous, you hadn't had sex in a long time, hadn't felt the touch of someone else's hands on you more intimately for a while.

But, neither had Steve. In fact, he was sitting in his bed outside the bathroom attached to his room, his jaw clenched as he stared at the space ahead of him waiting for you to come out, his mind returning to that heated moment you shared earlier. He was a bit embarrassed at the way he'd reacted so quickly, but amazed at how fast you turned him on without even really trying. And he knew that it was in both of your minds, and he was thinking of how and when he could bring it up to you respectfully. He was beginning to realize that these things were easier online.

You took a good look at yourself in the mirror after you had changed into the set Steve bought you, and honestly, you were digging it. You figured you'd just approach him outright, let him think about it and make it clear what you wanted - what you both wanted. You had done so much together through a screen. You couldn't wait for that to become real much longer. Steve had even said it himself: "I can't wait to fuck you." That moment was emblazoned in your mind at this point.

The set fit you perfectly. You had tried it on only once before, in front of the mirror in your apartment, admiring how it fit your body, taking hundreds of pictures but not sending them to anyone, not even Steve. He'd see it when he saw it, you had decided.

But looking in the mirror now, you felt like you were on fire. Steve had picked this out himself, so you knew it would drive him crazy. The white color of the cut out lingerie bodysuit was translucent against your skin so tantalizingly, and the way the straps at the bottom hugged up your waist highlighted the shape of your hips so well. And even though it was cut out, it left just enough to the imagination. The pink satin robe over it was just an accent, left slightly open just for show.

You bit down on your lip, doing your final primp and polish before you took in a deep breath and walked out.

"Steve," you said as you stood in front of the bathroom door, facing him in his bed.

When Steve turned to face you, his entire face and body changed. He hadn't been expecting this at all, and what made it even better was that you were wearing the lingerie he bought for you. The thought of you being in something he bought you made some part of his brain light up, the part that discovered new likings.

And god, you looked gorgeous. Your body could be seen in just the right way in the piece, and he couldn't forget the way it just barely covered your breasts, and the flesh right between your thighs. But more than surprised, he was turned on. That was why he wasted no time like he usually might have by being bashful and googly eyed. He was all those things, but he wanted you the most out of all that.

"Wow," Steve said, dragging his words out. He turned so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyebrows raised as he looked you up and down, taking you all in.

You giggled, feeling Steve's eyes burning into you.

You realized how long it had been since someone looked at you that way in person. Almost every night of the week, you had all eyes on you in your shows. But it just wasn't the same. There was never that special feeling. And with Steve, you knew his reactions were genuine.

And the look in Steve's eyes, hungry in the needy sense and hungry in the commanding sense, nearly made your knees buckle. Just the thought of what was coming next seemed to have you throbbing. He seemed to have no problem making eye contact this time around, there was no sense that he was being shy.

"You look... fucking amazing," Steve breathed out, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in.

And while you knew it was true, some part of you had you folding your hands together as if you were hoping he'd think that.

"Yeah?" you asked, tilting your head and slowly shrugging off the robe, letting it drop to your waist.

Steve's breath got caught in his throat as you fully revealed the lingerie beneath, the robe pooling around your arms and waist. All he could do was nod before he found his voice again, gulping,

"Yeah." He beckoned you to him, outstretching his arm. "Come here, doll."

You inched towards him, unafraid despite how much the pounding in your chest may have indicated that you weren't. You understood your power, knew how to utilize your spectacular sexual prowess. You may have both been a little rough when it came to real life interactions, but your chemistry together was explosive. It would knock any awkwardness out of the park, or enhance it in a way that made the experience a lot less nerve wracking.

You stood in front of him, looking down at him with lust in your hooded eyes as you took in all of him.

"Take that off for me?" Steve's hand brushed against the robe.

His voice was low and teetering on the edge of desperate. You soaked in all that need, wasting no time with teasing like you usually might have, because you wanted this just as much as he did.

You took it off, letting it fall to your feet on the floor. Removing the robe showed off your legs, smooth and elongated. He took in a sharp breath, his chest hurting from how badly he wanted you. He inched his hands forward, resting them on your waist and running his hands up and down the sheer fabric of the lingerie piece. The feeling of his hands on you was so different from the feeling before, because you knew exactly what was going to happen next, the realization burning in your stomach.

Steve took his time with you, his hands on you making it so hard for you to wait. He saw the way your eyes glimmered with desire and he grinned almost devilishly.

"I know, puppy," he called you, and his hands lowered on your hips to settle you down onto his lap. Despite how wide his legs were, you straddled him with ease. He nudged his knee into your clothed center, pushing your legs even further and making you let out a loud huff. Steve let his fingers run along your cheeks as his eyes searched yours. "So goddamn beautiful."

"Steve," you panted, and he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours and letting your lips meet in yet another kiss. Six times you'd kissed now, and you weren't counting all those cute pecks on the couch earlier.

His lips sunk into yours with ease, both your mouths wet and hungry for kissing. Your bodies seemed to meld into each other's, neither of you very conscious of your movement, just knowing that you were getting closer and closer to each other. You could feel Steve breathing hard against your face, and the touch of his hands on your body felt like they were burning prints into your hot skin. You moaned into his mouth when his hands traveled down your back to cup your ass, almost tentatively, like he didn't know what to do with it.

You wanted to encourage him to go for it, and you succeeded, because he squeezed the sensitive flesh, kneading it in his hands which were larger than life. You could feel his cock through his boxers, closer than you'd ever felt it before, and you couldn't help but whimper when you rolled your hips against his length, because the friction was so unbelievable.

Steve's eyes nearly shot open when you rolled your clothed cunt against the erection still growing in his boxers, forgetting how apparent it was that he was hard, and forgetting that you would actually do something about it. Too many times he'd been left to handle things on his own. The fact that you were actually there to help him release all that tension got him going like nothing else. And he could feel the shape of you against his cock, feel your slick folds beneath what you wore like it was your bare flesh. He grunted in your mouth, eventually opening his eyes where they hung low, pulling away so your eyes met.

"You do know what you're doing, right?" he asked, not as a warning or an expression of doubt but as a confirmation that you knew the things that you were making him feel.

You rolled your eyes playfully, your smile lazy and hazy eyed,

"No, Steve, I'm grinding against your dick for no reason."

When you put it that way, it made Steve blush, returning to that bashful disposition for just a minute before he came back to the space he was in again.

"I-"

"Shh," you shushed him lightly, putting your finger over his lips, making him look up at you with almost innocent eyes. You shook your head gently. "Don't talk."

You leaned in again, taking control of the situation as your fingers squeezed at tufts of his hair, pulling gently and summoning soft groans from his lips into yours, kissing him harder this time. Hard enough that you pushed him back onto the bed, him following under your lead, overwhelmed with the feeling of your body up against him, laying his entire body down.

You kept on kissing, hot and heavy and full of touching, but it wasn't enough to satisfy the craving you both had, no matter how many times you brushed against Steve's cock, no matter how much Steve's hand creeped past your ass and his fingers brushed against your core, which was practically soaking through your lingerie. You pulled away from his lips with a pop sound, your face suddenly emerging from being buried in his as you straddled Steve’s lap, who was now shirtless and starting to get a bit hot.

"Steve," you breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath. You needed to say it aloud. "I... wanna have sex with you. I just... I think we're both ready."

Steve knew that was what you wanted but he wasn't sure when either of you would actually advance things further. You watched him as he blinked, biting down on his lip.

"You're- you're sure?"

"I need it," you practically whined without meaning to, and fuck, Steve couldn't say no even if he wanted to - how could he when whining sounded so good coming from your lips, swollen and wet from kissing.

His eyes nearly glazed over at the sight of you on top of him, in that flimsy little piece, so frustrated and so needy, almost pouting. There was no way he could try to tempt you even more - he didn't have it in him to wait by teasing you.

"You really can't wait? You need it that bad?" he drawled, not because he wanted to taunt you, but because he wanted to hear how badly you wanted him, the way you expressed it on camera.

You couldn't resist, not when he was running his thumb along your bare thighs the way that he was, looking up at you with a sort of unintentionally cocky smirk set on his lips.

"I need you, Stevie," your face gave it all away, brows furrowed and your eyes full of desperation. You rolled your hips against him again like you were trying to prove it, nearly paralyzing yourself with the pleasure you felt just from the outline of his cock. Your legs shook and your jaw clenched. The sound of your pouty voice was almost agonizing. "You need me too."

Steve groaned at the repeated feeling, teeth grit as he decided to take matters into his own hands. You landed on your back neatly as he flipped you over with ease, now hovering over you. He was big and strong and his build was intimidating. He covered you completely and then some, and you quaked at how his body over yours almost cast a shadow. There was no innocence left in Steve's eyes, only burning desire and a need to control and be controlled. All that was running through his mind was thoughts of pleasuring you, making you cum around his tongue, his fingers, and his cock. Words couldn't express how much he wanted to bring you to that point and actually be able to touch you.

"Fuck," he uttered out, his throat tight and constricted. "I need to get you out of this."

A part of Steve wanted to rip it off, and another part of him wanted to keep some control of his senses and savor the way it looked on you. But he settled for burying his face in your neck, kissing you and leaving tiny little love bites to remind the both of you of this night. Steve's lips against your skin had you feeling so sensitive, the way he toyed at your neck and earlobe, making you shudder into his ears. Your hands flew to his back and gripped the tight muscle there, exploring the broad surface. The taste of your skin, that light sheen of sweat mixed with your natural taste had Steve aching for more - all he wanted was to bury his face in your pussy right now, then bury even more of him inside of you.

He moved onto your chest, peeling the top part off with ease, reeling back to take a good look at you. You let out a sharp intake at the feeling of the flush of air against your tits, realizing how exposed you were to Steve, who seemed ultra focused on the curve of your breasts. You looked so beautiful, half naked, writhing underneath him, waiting for what was next.

He took one of your breasts into his mouth, kissing and suckling at your nipple and making you cry out for the first time, your eyes shutting closed at the feeling of his warm lips closing against the flesh. He carried on with this until your nipples were hard stiff in his mouth, reveling in the taste of you and the noises his mouth made against you, as well as all the pleasured breaths that left your mouth as your chest rose and fell.

"So fucking beautiful, baby," he whispered kissing down the expanse of your tummy until he reached the happy trail.

You wondered if he could feel the butterflies swarming in your stomach at the sound of his praise. You watched through blurred eyes as Steve's head ducked further down your stomach, reaching that v-line that was almost covered by the bottom half of your lingerie. You almost moaned when he peeled that off with his teeth, looking dead at you as he did so.

"Steve, fuck, you swear you're not that experienced and then you do shit like this," you panted, though you couldn't stop your amusement from breaking through.

He laughed quietly, but in his blue eyes there was more dominance than there was cheeriness.

"I do my research," was all he said, the assertive nature of it all sending those butterflies swarming again.

He finally looked down at the bare flesh that was between your legs, a low groan escaping his throat as he did so. Your pussy was dripping wet and glistening, and though he'd seen it onscreen, absolutely nothing compared to the way it looked in real life. All he could think was that he was where he belonged, in between your legs. The sight of you made his cock twitch, precum practically leaking out of the tip and probably leaving a dark wet spot in his boxers.

You whimpered when you saw him looking at your pussy as it pulsed around nothing but air, needing him to say something, do something, anything. His eyes flashed up to you momentarily and he smiled slightly at the needy pout on your face, then back to your soaking pussy right in front of him. He couldn't say that he was all confident — he had a lot of things on his mind because he wanted to make sure his inexperience wouldn't hinder your pleasure. But some part of him also knew he'd make you scream.

"Such a pretty pussy," he grumbled, and reached his fingers out, gathering slick from the very entrance of your slit and running it between your folds, eliciting a gasp from you as your toes curled from the unexpected sensation.

"Fucking hell, Steve," you moaned, watching as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, tasting just the very beginnings of you and seeming to savor it.

He wished that he could lock away in his mind the noises he made come out of you, and keep on his tongue the taste of you. The sound of his name on your lips was so enticing.

"That good?" he asked, genuinely wanting to make sure - he was still so sweet even with his head between your legs.

You ran your fingers through his hair, praising him like he was a good dog,

"Mhm. So good."

He tried and failed to hide the almost giddy grin that appeared on his face, then began to kiss and suck around your inner thighs, a relaxing touch that made your head loll and your eyes roll back in your head. Then that kissing at your thighs, those wet and chaste butterfly kisses became so much closer, his lips wrapping around your clit and giving it a soft kiss. He looked up at you for reassurance,

"That okay?"

"Fuck, yes, Steve," you cried out at that zinging sensation, desperate for him to really get going. "More."

You pulled at his hair, which seemed to be a good indicator of what you wanted, and he smirked to himself, satisfied, and dove right in, not wasting anymore time.

The sound that came out of your mouth when Steve buried his face in your pussy, the tip of his tongue dragging along your entrance as he kept his lips suckling at your clit, was probably the most angelic thing Steve had ever heard. It had been so long since you'd been granted the simple luxury of getting your pussy eaten, and Steve was proving more and more by the minute that he was going to provide you with that luxury and more. The sounds you made egged him on, and he let that gentle prodding of his tongue become lapping, using his whole tongue against your wet entrance and lapping away, reveling in your bittersweet taste.

You writhed around his head, your back already arching up off the bed. You were feeling everything - Steve's mouth at your throbbing clit, his wide tongue lapping fat stripes up your slit which was coated in your thick arousal, the bristles of his growing beard against your inner thighs, the feeling of his hands at your thighs, spreading your legs apart the perfect amount for him.

"Oh," you moaned, and Steve moaned back, the vibrations of his moan running right up your core. "Mm, fuck, Stevie. Feels so fucking good."

Steve breathed out heavily, his hot breath against your core adding to the many sensations you were feeling at the moment. With each movement Steve made, your hand tugging at his hair grew tighter, only revving him up further. He wanted to make every inch of your body quake with pleasure and know that he was the reason why, he wanted to drag out all the moans he could from you until you lost your voice.

When he pulled his tongue and mouth away you whimpered, but he was right there making up for it, running his fingers along your clit in slow, tempting circles. He seemed to understand the way your pleasure operated right away, seemed to know exactly how to hold you over until you got to that point. And when he looked up, his beard and his lips glinting with your arousal, it was to your amazement that you remembered this wasn't just any old guy, but Captain America who was eating you out with such finesse. If that wasn't a sexual feat, you didn't know what was. Steve's eyes seemed feral with a glint of concentration, studying your face and the way your chest heaved up and down.

"Feels nice, doesn't it, doll?" he asked, dragging his fingers up and down on your clit and teasing your slit, making your face flex in a needy frown.

All you can do is let out a strangled moan as he keeps teasing with his fingers, running them along your pulsing slit until he dips the pad of one of his fingers in, feeling around until he slips it in entirely, earning a slight moan from you as his finger slides in. He savored the feeling of your walls, so warm and wet, hugging his finger, wanting to duplicate the feeling around his cock - but not yet. And fuck, just Steve's one finger is huge, more filling than your own fingers could be, reaching inside of you deeper than you could ever manage. You absolutely squealed when he dipped another finger inside, having to stretch you out a slight amount to even fit another finger. He raised his brows at the effort, realizing again how big every part of him was compared to you.

Then he found a pace with his fingers, pushing them in and out slowly, gently, scissoring you open and stretching you out as much as his fingers could. You moaned as he fingered you properly, thrusting his fingers in deep and slow, in and out and curving upwards at the spongy bit of flesh inside of you that made you squirm each time he pressed his fingers against it. He studied your reactions, probing at that spot inside of you with just the right amount of pressure once he understood your body.

"Yes," you mewl when he added his lips into the mix, lapping and sucking away at your clit, his own spit mingling with your arousal as the combination seemed to drip off his tongue and down his own chin.

He looked up at you, his eyes darker and lustier than you'd ever seen them, and you whimpered, combing your fingers through his hair in praise until he looked back down and closed his eyes, soft lashes pressing against his face.

He continued with this, drawing all kinds of moans and groans from your sweating throat until he lost all technique, his tongue sloppily lapping against you while he started to fuck you with his fingers, still just as deep but growing faster now. He was messy with it, losing himself in the taste of you and the feeling of your throbbing heat, closing his eyes and just going to town on you. He was really getting into the groove of pleasuring you, disregarding technicality and neatness, which was the only request you had for him: to let go. His only focus was getting you to come undone, and when Steve made a plan, he stuck to it.

"Oh, right there," the feeling of his tongue and his fingers against that spot had you spiraling in a good way — a sated moan bubbled up your throat, your hand gripping his hair hard, bringing a satisfying stinging sensation to his scalp.

Your orgasm came fast, your toes literally curling and your knees coming up, your feet sliding against the sheets. An open-mouthed, pleased moan escaped from your lips, white flashing behind your shut eyes as Steve drew the first orgasm of the night from you. And honestly, just the feeling of you coming on Steve's face was almost enough to make himself come, but he held back.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, the only word that could escape your strained chest, trying to make sense of everything that Steve was bringing out of you.

Even as you were coming, Steve didn't stop, still lapping away at your juices and fucking his fingers in and out of you at an absurd speed, drawing out your pleasure as long as he could. But you were quite honestly winded, not sure how much more of this you could take.

"S-Steve," you muttered, garnering the energy to stutter his name.

"Mm?" he hummed, his lips still against your clit, the sensation making you come again. It seemed like it shouldn't have been possible for you to come twice in such a short amount of time, but Steve's fingers still buried inside of you begged to differ. He drew back right when that happened, his brows furrowed in amazement as he watched your arousal pool out from you, his head pounding at the squelching sound your pussy made when his fingers slid out of you. "Oh, sweetheart. You're so wet."

He looked up at you, and the combination of the look in his eyes and the crease in his brow would've seemed concerned if it weren't for the fact that he was just genuinely amazed and surprised that you came twice in such a short amount of time.

"Mmph," you humphed, coming down and blinking, dazed.

"You okay, doll?" he asked, laughing quietly.

You were still shaking, still in recovery, but at least you could speak now, loosening the grip on his hair and beckoning him towards you. He gladly hovered back over you, face to face with you yet again. He blushed at the amount of slick he could feel dripping all down your thighs and legs against his own legs when he hovered over you.

"Come here," you cooed, awe shining in your eyes.

Steve leaned in and let you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, sweet and slow, an appreciation kiss for what he'd done. You could taste all of you on just his lips. When he pulled away, he found your eyes boring deep into his, serious again.

"I'm ready," you bit down on your lip, and your voice became quieter. "I need you inside me. Please?"

"Oh, princess," Steve cupped your chin, and face, grazing his thumb along your lips. "You don't have to ask."

You held Steve's gaze, comprehending all the absolute adoration in his eyes, all of it held there for you.

"So glad I got you here all to myself, doll," he murmured lovingly, vast hands stroking your face.

You smiled,

"Me too."

He took in a deep breath as he stood on his knees between your legs, pulling down his boxers and letting his cock spring out. You'd seen it before, only once, and it was huge in person, veiny and throbbing, curved just the right way. The tip was leaking with his precum, the entire shaft engorged with a particular longing. You almost felt bad, you couldn't imagine how long it had been aching, because it was especially hard.

He noticed the bewildered look on your face. You were sort of prepping yourself with the knowledge that that was going inside of you. He couldn't help but wrap his hand around the shaft, stroking his cock slowly, only allowing that slight tug as a form of relief.

"You got me," he grunted, holding back just for you.

"Let me," you practically commanded, reaching forward to take him in your hands and feel him for yourself, biting down on your lip as you indulged in the feeling of your hands wrapped around him.

He took in a sharp intake of breath when you started slowly stroking up and down, but as much as he loved the feeling, he pushed your hand away at some point, shaking his head,

"Later. Right now I need to be inside you."

You couldn't stop the sinful grin that spread across your lips when he said that and dove back down, hovering over you yet again. His forehead brushed against yours as he positioned himself at your slit, just the feeling of his tip poking against you making you whimper loudly.

"Shit," he hissed, teasing your folds in earnest now. He used his hands to guide himself, sliding the tip of his cock up and down between your folds, which were soaked in your arousal. This alone could make him come. "You're dripping, sweetheart."

You whined, bucking your hips up as you tried to get him inside of you for real, and he snapped out of it and realigned to your pleasure.

"'S okay," he reassured you, and connected his lips to yours yet again, in that sweet, heart wrenching way because you only wanted one thing. "I got you," he promised, finally sliding the tip in.

Just at the feeling of the tip buried inside of your needy cunt, your eyes shot open and you looked up at Steve, who was doing everything in his power to take it slow. Your hand flung to his shoulder and you nodded, your voice faint and coming out in whispers like you were reaching for something,

"More."

He slid in even further, going past the tip. He wasn't even halfway in, and his shaft nearly filled you up, making you squeak out in pleasure. Meanwhile, a knot was nearly formed at Steve's temple as he focused on going further and not letting go regardless of how good you felt around him, tight and slowly being stretched out. He cherished the feeling of his cock going deeper inside of you, how wet and warm you felt, walls closing around him like your pussy was designed for him. It was more than sexual, it was euphoric, making his mind go blank as you wrapped around him so graciously.

You on the other hand, were scrunching your eyes shut, overwhelmed with pleasure and need. You wanted him all inside of you, but you were adjusting to the feeling, his cock thick and long and filling you up without even being all the way inside of you. You were silent, besides the whimpers that left your quivering lips as he pushed deeper inside of you, slowly and with the steadiest hips he could manage.

“You okay, doll?" he questioned, glancing up from where you were connected and at your face instead.

"Mhm," you opened your eyes and nodded, though you were blinking away tears - the pleasure was insurmountable, twinged with a bit of pain as you tried to get used to his length.

You were no virgin, but with how big Steve was, of course you needed the guidance. He seemed to understand that without having to communicate it, which made you want to joke about how cocky he was being without even realizing. But mainly, you were just appreciative.

You kept your hand at his back for comfort, your nails lightly scratching the sweaty skin that felt like an expanse of new land to you.

"Almost there, princess, I promise," Steve's voice was low and restrained, but he was trying to reassure you, stroking your jaw with his thumb and kissing gently at your neck, sending shivers down your spine at the sensation.

He finally bottomed out, pushing all the way inside of you, and you cried out in ecstasy, your nails digging little half moons into his back. Your hands relished the feeling of the muscles in his back flexing as he made slow, tentative movements. You could feel yourself clenching around him, your walls stretched out to grow accustomed to him - not just his cock, but him. You had to adjust your whole body to him, this masterpiece of a man, and Steve felt the same way. You looked beautiful, a luster of sweat that could easily be mistaken for a natural glow painted on your body and face, your puckered nipples brushing against his own chest. His hips dug into your own as he buried himself inside of you, forcing your legs to spread out.

He liked the way he had this sort of control over you, couldn't deny the fiendish delight he got from seeing you underneath him, so fucked out and almost delicate in that way, having to accommodate to his size. But larger than that sinful delight was the way his heart swelled at your beauty, and the fact that the thing he had longed for so greatly was finally catching up to him. The sound of your moans, whimpers, all those little pants you let out without realizing, he could finally hear in real life, in the safe haven of his own ears.

And being so close to you felt incredibly intimate - it didn't feel like he was hooking up with someone for a quick intake of pleasure, which was what he had sought you out for at the start of it all. It felt like he was with someone who he belonged with.

And he was inside of you. The sound of your strangled cries brought him back to real life. Not only was Steve big, his dick had the perfect curve, reaching depths and angles that no one had ever reached before - only your toys had this power, and it was still incomparable to him. He hadn't moved, he was just letting his body sink into you and become acclimated to the delirious feeling of being all the way inside of you, unforgivably deep, your weeping pussy throbbing around his length.

"Fuck," he let out a throaty groan, his voice harsh and raspy. His mind had gone blank again, focused on only one thing. Your pussy was so tight, holding onto him like a perfect, firm handshake. He had to choke out his words, so enveloped in ecstasy. "That's... so-"

"Mm, Steve," you blinked away tears, finally acclimated to the feeling of him all the way inside of you, needing him to move. "Move, please. I can take it."

"You can take it?" he rasped out, looking down and directly into your eyes, finally moving his hips almost all the way out and then burying himself in again, feeling your wetness slide up and down his cock. "You like taking my cock?"

"Yes, you know I do. It's so fucking good, Stevie," you moaned out, bucking your hips up as you yearned for him to create a rhythm, getting the air knocked out of you when he did the same thing, this time slamming back inside of you, his hips stuttering. "Oh fuck!"

You realized how loud you were being and your hand flew to your mouth without meaning to, but Steve was quick to remove it, shaking his head,

"Be as loud as you need to, princess. Got the whole floor to myself."

You whined at the prospect, and from then on you held nothing back. Steve was fucking you now, settled on a slow, steady pace. He listened to every groan that left those pretty lips of yours, set on giving you your third orgasm of the night. And no one held out better than Steve. His endurance was impressive, you knew that. But you wanted to test him on something else.

"That all you can do, Captain?" the title rolled off your tongue so sickly sweet, causing Steve to pause before he just glared at you and set off again, this time relentlessly, pounding into you hard and fast.

You were caught off guard by the change in pace although it was what you were looking to pull out of him, and your mouth dropped open into an o-shape. This was nothing you could achieve on your own, and not even with anyone else. No, because Steve really was a supersoldier, showing off that speed you had been so in awe of even outside of the bedroom.

What made it even better was that he didn't seem to realize he was fucking you in an almost enhanced way, utilizing his powers in a way no one else could. His name seemed glued to your lips as you mewled out, nails scraping down his back like you were a cat and he was a scratching post.

"Is that enough for you, doll?" Steve asked, his lips brushing against your ear as he buried his face in your neck, even bringing a thumb to your clit and rubbing hard circles that made you feel like you were seeing stars. You could only moan in response and he shook his head slowly. "I need a yes or no, darling. Or is it too much, hmm?"

Steve's dominating purr had you shivering, had your back arching up off the bed, feeling everything so intensely.

"I-it's too much, but it's so - fucking good, oh my god," you blabbered, eyes rolling back in your head as your hands on his back explored the nape of his neck. You tugged at his hair in that way that seemed to signal that whatever he was doing, he had better keep doing it.

He kept slamming into you, rough and hard yet somehow deep and loving at the same time, his hips snapping into yours. The bedroom was filled with the lewd sounds your wet pussy made each time he slammed into you, making Steve blush despite the circumstances. And even with the amount of pleasure you were in, all the dominance Steve had over you in the moment, you fucked him back. You'd never been one to just lay there during sex, or during anything. You liked to be in charge, too.

Steve was ultimately impressed by the way you seemed to sync up with him, inching your hips forward as you slid up and down his cock, your breasts bouncing deliciously with each motion. You were both all moans and groans and hearts swelled with adoration. It felt so surreal to hear the deep moans you longed for through the screen right here in your ear. In the midst of it all you kept staring down at where you were connected, drunk on the sight of him disappearing inside of you.

"You close doll?" Steve asked when he noticed all the tell tale signs of your orgasm approaching: the way your breath sped up, the intonations of your moans, the way you clenched around him like you clenched around his fingers.

"Yes, don't stop," you practically begged him, tears welling up in your eyes from the absolute intoxication you felt, a euphoric feeling that was so new.

"'M not gonna stop," Steve chuckled, shaking his head slowly.

Even if he teased you or assumed a more dominant disposition, all Steve wanted was for you to ride out that pleasure. He didn't know if he had the heart to really make you work for it. And besides, he was getting close himself. He was surprised anyone could last very long with you to begin with, but he set his mind on your pleasure and that was exactly what he would be giving you.

Steve knew he was done for when you wrapped your legs around his waist, slowing his thrusts and forcing him to be practically submerged inside of you. He switched from pounding into you to grinding his hips against yours, moaning darkly as he watched his cock disappear completely inside of you. He seemed to reach your stomach, rearranging your guts. You grabbed onto the back of his head, forcing his face into your neck. When you came, it was like you and Steve were colliding stars, creating a supernova that shone so bright, its light traveling all through your body. You were babbling curse words and praise, moans spilling out of you as you tightened around him and came on his cock.

Steve rubbed gentle circles onto your clit as you rode the orgasm out, nodding and encouraging you, bringing you back down to earth slowly,

"That's it princess, come for me. That's it, you're good. You're perfect."

Steve kept slowly pushing and grinding his hips inside of you, letting you enjoy your orgasm until he approached his own, grit teeth and all.

"Fuck," he cried out, the loudest you'd ever heard him moan, your name tumbling out of his lips like a beautiful lyric.

Steve didn't pull out though, he just slowly lowered himself on top of you, careful not to crush you, keeping his cock inside of you as his cum filled you up in hot, long spurts. You felt ropes of cum disappearing inside of you, biting your lip at the feeling. And what a feeling it was to come inside of you, the only place he wanted to be from now on. It made him feel like you belonged with him, like he had this special privilege that no one else got. You just lay there together, heavy breathing and silence until Steve finally moved, all his cum safe inside of you.

"Fuck," he shuddered again, glancing down briefly at the mess he'd made of your completely ruined pussy. (Ruined with love.)

The comedown left you both with positive thoughts, none of the profound melancholy that could sometimes settle in after sex. Finally it had happened. The thing you'd both wanted since day one, but had never actually expected to be possible. Again you were both filled with amazement at the other, at the knowledge that either one of you actually existed. Steve was laying on the bed besides you and you were both looking up at the ceiling. He glanced over at you, his cheeks still flushed.

"Did you uh... like that?" he asked, back to the humble old Steve he'd always be, making your head snap over to look at him.

You chuckled, still out of breath,

"What do you think?"

Steve grinned to himself, feeling accomplished. All he wanted was for you to feel good with him, in every sense of the word.

"Good," he placed his hands behind his head. He glanced over at you and saw that your body was jittery, almost shaking, your legs especially. He smirked to himself, washed over with that fiendish delight once again. "Do you always shake when you come?"

You narrowed your eyes playfully, rolling towards him and kissing his neck,

"Sometimes... depends."

"Huh... good to know," Steve's lip twitched upward into a smile.

"Mm. I'm too tired to get up," you breathed out, but you had to force yourself to anyways. "But I should pee."

Steve laughed,

"Yeah. You do that."

When you came back from the bathroom after rinsing off slightly, you crawled into bed, not falling asleep immediately. Instead you turned to face Steve, your eyes twinkling even in the dark of his room.

"Steve..."

"Yeah, doll?" he replied.

"I... I really like you, okay? And I know you know that already, and I know you like me too, but it's been a while since I've been in... anything with anybody. And right now, this feels really special. I... want this to be good," you choked out, trying to organize your words, because you didn't want to be too mushy but communication was always important to you and you needed to express yourself.

Steve's heart pounded with adulation for you, and he cupped your face in his hands,

"Of course. Anything, YN. Anything, I'll do it for you. I want this to be good too. Fuck, I've been trying so hard to make everything perfect. I hope that doesn't take away from it being good."

You smiled. You knew you were in the right hands.

"I know you have. And it has been better than perfect, and it's only the second day. I really love every second we've been spending time together. I just... I like you, okay?"

"I like you," Steve repeated, and you had to stop yourself from tearing up.

"Mkay," you nodded, and Steve squeezed your cheeks, making you giggle. "Good night."

"Goodnight," Steve let you go, but ended up pulling you close anyway, the both of you facing each other as you cuddled together, Steve tucking you under his arm, fused together.

Steve didn't want to leave you in the morning although he had to go into the office, so he waited for you to wake up. And when you stirred, he kissed your forehead, waiting for you to come to.

"Morning, sweetheart," he doted on you, and you swallowed, eyes blinking open.

"Morning," your voice was all used up from moaning so much last night, and you could already tell from the feeling between your legs that you were going to be sore.

Steve noticed the way you winced slightly when you shifted your legs forward, and pouted slightly,

“You okay?"

"You're fuckin’ huuuge," you chuckled, sprawling out and stretching out your arms. "I think my cervix is wrecked. Like, indefinitely."

Steve, although he was thrown off by your aggressively dirty humor, laughed, rubbing his eyes. He looked down at his boxers under the sheets, then at you with a faux apologetic face,

"Sorry."

"Never apologize for having a big dick," you smirked.

"Noted," Steve shook his head playfully. "Hate to have to leave you, but I gotta go in this morning. Just briefly."

"That's okay," you smiled understandingly, stretching and letting the covers flop over, exposing your naked upper half which Steve glanced at tentatively, the puckered nipples and smooth skin. You were unknowingly tempting him to stay in, but he knew he couldn't. Besides, you'd need the rest - then again, he could just go down on you, that would be pleasure enough for him too- "Earth to Steve!"

"Sorry, I got distracted," he muttered, and you chortled.

"I noticed. Hey, but you should go, the quicker you leave the quicker you can come back, right?"

"Uh huh. If you need anything, text me. I got something nice planned for us later after this."

"Cool," you grinned wide, and Steve leaned forward to receive a sweet kiss from you. It all felt so domestic and lighthearted.

"Alright, I'll see you."

Steve got dressed and was out the door, driving slow on his way to the tower, his mind flashing back to moments from last night and this morning, fluctuating from burning hot to wholesomely warm. He couldn't help the etch of a smile on his lips even as he walked back into the building. He made his way to his office without seeing anyone yet, but Bucky was standing outside his door, leaning against it with a set look on his face. His arms were crossed and his eyes were narrowed - he looked like he had some serious business to take care of.

Steve raised his brows at the sight. Bucky was already a scary looking guy if you didn't know him, so the fact that he looked so determined right now made Steve think something was up, but he didn't think it had anything to do with him.

"Hey Buck," he chirped. "What's goin' on?"

Bucky didn't skip a beat, certainty ringing clear in his voice,

“I know what you've been doing.”

bonk. share your thoughts!

hope y’all loved this chapter <3

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine #steve rogers series #marvel series #marvel smut #smut #orbitariums #girls on film #steve rogers x camgirl! reader #camgirl! reader #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine

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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years

Text

Branded - Chapter 19

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky make the drive back home where he’s introduced to the family as your fake boyfriend. Absolutely everything is going to go great.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by @araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Domestic fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

AO3

The trip from New York to Boston was four hours filled with awkward silence. The only sounds to punctuate the tension were those of the drive itself, the hum of the engine, the sound of the windshield wipers, and the hiss of tires on wet pavement.

It was snowing fairly heavily, so when Bucky had offered to drive, you hadn’t given it a second thought. Chances of icy roads were high, and you figured he probably had some fast demon reflexes he could rely on to get you there safely.

Plus, it gave you an excuse to sneak subtle glances while he drove. Bucky was distractedly handsome in profile, and you wondered if he understood just how attractive he was. Even with his demon features hidden, tucked away under a kind of magical illusion you still didn’t understand, there was something about him that was… different. Like he was just a little too perfect to exist in the real world.

Or maybe you had it worse than you thought. You had half-hoped your feelings for him after the heigore attack had been the result of your close brush with death. That you had just been overwhelmed with gratitude and your self-confession had been a mistake. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case, and with each feeding you were only falling deeper in love with Bucky.

This trip, having him spend time with your family, in your childhood home, was only going to make it worse.

Shit.

The click of the turn signal drew you from your thoughts, and you looked out the snow-battered windshield to find the car exiting on the off-ramp. You hadn’t been paying attention but Bucky had known which exit to take without your guidance. An overwhelming mixture of emotions bubbled in your chest. You didn’t know what to do with them.

Ten minutes of navigating the streets of suburban Boston and you reached your destination. Bucky pulled up to the curb, put the car in park, and turned off the ignition. You couldn’t stop staring up at the two-story house, looking quaint and delicate covered in fresh snow. You hadn’t been here since last Christmas, and you didn’t know how to feel about it now. Too many things had happened and you weren’t the same. The last person who had walked into that house was a stranger to you now.

“Ready?”

Maybe he sensed your trepidation because Bucky’s question was soft and patient. You gave him a quick nod, unable to meet his eye. If you did, you’d start blushing all over again, reminded of how insane this plan was. But it was your plan, and if anything you were stubborn enough to see it through.

You got out of the car, immediately shivering and pulling your coat tighter around you as the snowflakes hit your face. You quickly opened the backseat and pulled out the carrier, shielding it with your body so poor Monster wouldn’t get pelted with snow.

You had always taken Monster on you with trips back home, and this would be no exception, even when Bucky had told you ‘the little beast can make it there on his own.’ When you asked what he meant, he’d tried to explain interdimensional travel through ‘wrinkles in physical space’ but your brain had shut off around that point. It had sounded more like a Tony Stark thing than hobgoblin magic, but what the hell did you know about cracks in the foundation of the physical realm?

Hurrying up to the front step, you shivered and scraped your boots on the doormat. You were just about to reach up to the doorbell when a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders.

You looked up at Bucky and he gave you a raised, amused brow. Right. Stage one of your plan and you’d already forgotten. Operation: Pretend to Have a Hot Boyfriend Who is Clearly Way out of Your League.

With an arm still slung around your shoulder Bucky reached up and pressed the doorbell. You clutched the carrier nervously, swallowing as the chimes echoed inside the house, accompanied by the sound of barking.

You’d forgotten Uncle Walter was bringing one of his dogs.

Shit. Shit.

Bucky stiffened beside you and your heart raced in panic. What if the dogs could sense he was a demon? They could tell these things, couldn’t they? Monster seemed to like Bucky, but he wasn’t a typical cat, and you were realizing you might be in over your head way more than you had originally thought—

The door swung open and you were pulled into a pair of warm arms in a tight hug before you could open your mouth to say hi. Bucky managed to retrieve the carrier from your hand as your mother hugged you tightly, squeezing the rest of the air out of your lungs.

“I missed you so much, sweetie! How was the drive? Did you have any trouble getting here? They said it was going to snow at least five inches and I know your car doesn’t handle the snow. You really should buy a new one, I keep telling you to—Oh, hello. You must be Jacob.”

Your mother finally released you, allowing you to breathe and try to sort out her whirlwind of questions, but all you could do was watch with a pounding heart as she turned to face Bucky.

You’d planned out most of the details of your fake relationship on the drive over. How long you’d been dating, where you’d met, etc. etc. It helped that Bucky already had a false identity that any of your family could look up if they wanted to (and they would, knowing how nosey they were), but…

…it didn’t prepare you for the actual encounter. Bucky had assured you he could handle himself, but now you were terrified. Not for your family for having a demon in their midst, but for the poor demon that was about to be exposed to the embarrassment that was your family.

“I am, ma’am,” Bucky said with a smooth, charming smile full of white teeth. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

You blinked. The person you were looking at wasn’t Bucky. Or if it was, he was a Bucky you didn’t know. There was a bright, sincere smile on his face, lighting up his blue eyes in ways you didn’t think was possible. He held out his hand to her, the absolute picture of a polite gentleman, and you didn’t recognize the grump, cantankerous demon you’d come to know at all.

Your mom broke into a smile herself, something you’d never seen her do with a stranger before.

“Oh, come here, give me a hug.”

Before you could say anything, she drew Bucky into a tight hug, leaving you stunned and speechless. She had never warmed up to any of the (few) boyfriends you’d brought home, and now she was embracing him like Bucky was…

…part of the family.

Oh, no.

What was possibly worse was the vaguely amused smile Bucky was giving you over her shoulder. You couldn’t blame him; the look on your face was probably quite the sight.

By the time your mother pulled back from the hug, Bucky’s charming poster boy smile was back on his face. Where he’d learned to do that, you had no idea, but your mother seemed immediately enamored.

Greeting Aunt Rena and Uncle Walter next was more intense. Not because of them, they were both sweet and welcoming to Bucky, but because of the dog. They’d left most of their small herd of Chihuahuas at home, thankfully, and Uncle Walter had only brought the one—his oldest. She was an ancient thing, white fur covering her face, but she ran up to Bucky as if she had very important business to attend to.

Bucky froze as if the dog was a Doberman and not a wad of fur that barely weighed five pounds. She sniffed at the toes of his boots, and then his ankles, unable to reach higher, and she stared up at him through big glassy eyes.

When you sure she was about to start growling or barking, warning the humans of the demon amongst them, she jumped up onto her hind legs and scratched at his leg, wagging her tail and drawing her lips back into a doggy grin.

“Honey never likes anyone,” Aunt Rena said with a startled look at your uncle before looking back to Bucky. “You must be a dog-person.”

Bucky had knelt down and cautiously put his right hand forward after pulling off the glove. He kept his demonic arm covered, and would have to do so for the entire trip, but he let the dog sniff his human hand.

When he went to pet her, she jumped up and licked his chin, startling a laugh out of him. Like all the other rare times you’d heard him laugh, it left you warm and flushed and gawking like an idiot.

“Yeah, I used to be,” Bucky answered, still smiling. He had pulled the little Chihuahua into his arms where she squirmed happily, still trying to lick his face. “Haven’t had a dog in a few years.”

There was a hint of wistful sadness there so faint you wondered if anyone else but you noticed. You hoped they didn’t. It was stupid and childish, but you were starting to feel… jealous? Left out? Over the fact everyone adored your fake boyfriend, and he seemed to like them back.

“I’m going to go get the bags,” you said, setting down Monster’s carrier and opening the door. The hobgoblin sauntered his way out of the cage and peered around as if looking over his kingdom.

Honey hunkered down in Bucky’s arms, trembling and whining at the sight of the pseudo-cat. The dogs had always been terrified of Monster, even though he’d largely ignored them, and now you knew why. Apparently they were fine with demons, but hobgoblins went too far.

“I’ll grab them,” Bucky immediately volunteered with an easy smile, setting the Chihuahua gently on the ground. You narrowed your eyes at him, seeing right through his attempts to win over your family, which was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. So why were you suddenly so annoyed about it?

“Be right back.”

Bucky kissed you on the head before retreating out the front door, and just like that, your annoyance was gone and filled instead with mortifying embarrassment when all three adults gave you various expressions of affectionate fondness and teasing.

You didn’t know if anyone had ever died from being kissed on the forehead, but if not, you were going to be the first.

Bucky brought in the bags and your mother directed him up to the guest bedroom. You were trapped downstairs for the next half hour with the obligatory catching up with your family, which was a trial even during the best of times, let alone right now when you were desperate to get away to talk to Bucky. He hadn’t come back downstairs since putting away the bags, and you’d wondered where he’d disappeared to.

Sure, they were your family, but you didn’t want to have to suffer with them alone.

When you were able to finally excuse yourself, pointedly ignoring your mother’s curious look, you went upstairs and found Bucky in the guest bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression blank and far away. The snow in his hair had melted and dried, leaving his long brown strands slightly wavy.

“Bucky?”

He drew in a sharp breath and looked up at you, blinking before rubbing his face.

“Sorry. Was… lost in thought. I didn’t mean to—I can come down if—“

You interrupted him by sitting beside him on the bed, close enough for your arm to brush his, but you didn’t reach out to touch him. You had a suspicion as to what had happened, and your stomach churned uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry about my family. They’re a little weird at first, but they mean well. I can tell them to lay off if they’re being too much.”

To your surprise, Bucky merely smiled. It was close-lipped and soft, but somehow still warm. Once you met his eye you couldn’t look away, and a part of you wondered if he realized the hold he had on you. A power that had nothing to do with demon pacts and bonds.

“It’s not that. Your aunt and uncle are wonderful, and your mom is… She reminds me of my own mother.”

It took everything in your power not to reach out and hug him, and you gripped the edge of the better tighter so you wouldn’t.

“What’s wrong, then?”

Bucky chewed his lip and looked away. It wasn’t until his gaze fell on the closet on the opposite side of the room that it finally clicked for you.

“Oh.” The breath rushed out of you as if you’d been gut-punched. “I didn’t… think to warn you.”

Of all the things you could have forgotten, how could you forget to tell him you would be staying in your old room? The room where he’d first come through the portal. Where the pact had first been made. Where you’d first met in an encounter you didn’t remember, the memories taken away by Buck himself?

“This is where your bed used to be,” he said, slightly patting the mattress you were both sitting on. “Only it was sideways against the wall. You had a dresser over there. Some kind of poster on that wall; I think it had dinosaurs on it. And…”

His brows furrowed but a small smile touched his lips. “A large stuffed animal cat in that corner. You really liked cats, didn’t you?”

You hunched your shoulders, but it was too late to stop the warmth on your cheeks. He really remembered all that?

“Yeah. Cats were my thing, I guess.”

Remaining quiet for a moment, you finally had the courage to ask. “Should… should we rent a hotel? I mean, if it’s too… too weird staying here. Because of… you know. The whole portal thing… and… all that.”

“Why would it be weird for me?”

His genuinely confused tone forced you to look him in the face. He really didn’t seem to understand what you were getting at judging by the furrow on his brow.

“It sounded like it had been kind of traumatizing for you, right?” you asked. “I mean, I really don’t mind if you want to go somewhere else—“

He said your name, softly and with so much fondness it made your face burn again.

“I don’t think I’ve made this clear, but… you saved me that day. Did you know that?”

You shook your head, eyes firmly planted on the faded pink carpet under your feet.

“Well, you did,” he continued, his voice a gentle rumble that sent chills up your spine. “I was in a literal Hell before I came through that portal. And I was trapped there for a long, long time. I don’t know how you did it, and frankly, I don’t really care. I’m just grateful it happened, though I wish…”

You chanced a glance up at him when he stopped speaking, forcing yourself to meet his eye no matter how difficult it was. This seemed important to him, so it was important to you, too.

His blue eyes roved over your face slowly, as if memorizing every detail, and it was very difficult to keep still under that piercing stare. It had always had the strange effect of both making you want to hide from it while also making you want to drown in it.

“I wish what had followed hadn’t happened. If I hadn’t accepted that toy from you, none of this would have happened. You wouldn’t be trapped, forced to be a… a sex slave.”

“A sex slave?” You scoffed, looking at him like he’d lost his mind. “Bucky, I’m not a—“

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted, desperate and earnest, as if needing you to understand. “That’s exactly what you are. No matter how we dress it up. You bringing me home to your family doesn’t change that. Nothing will.”

You turned away from him, now out of frustration rather than shyness.

“Bucky, we’ve been over this already. However this happened, whatever the situation is, I’m not going to blame you. You’re not a monster, you’re not hurting me, and I refuse to hate you no matter how much you hate yourself.”

He opened his mouth to argue but you beat him to it, and interrupted him to say, “I like you, Bucky. Okay? I like you a lot. So… shut up.”

His brows rose high on his forehead and you flushed but refused to look away, ready to argue with him if he refused to listen.

But all Bucky did was smile the tiniest amount and said, “I haven’t had someone tell me to shut up in a long time. Maybe it was due.”

He was definitely teasing you now, and the tension in your shoulders relaxed. You much preferred teasing over self-loathing.

“Yeah, well, sometimes you say dumb stuff.” You raised your chin, daring him to contradict you. “You’re kind, likeable. Charming. My family is already about to adopt you and they’ve known you for less than a day.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause they don’t know me. If anything, they’re fond of the chipper, bright-eyed idiot I used to be. That’s where I’m pulling that act from. My methods may be a few decades old but parents are parents.”

“You weren’t an idiot,” you said softly, remembering now the pictures you had pulled up when you first researched the demon you’d encountered in your bedroom. He really had been the starry-eyed youth Bucky described, but you remembered very clearly the stark difference between some pictures during the war. The ones where he’d looked like any other young man in his 20s, excited to go off and fight for his country.

And then there had been the ones where he’d still smiled at the camera, but his cheeks had been gaunt, the circles under his eyes dark, and the glaze of his eyes had been haunting.

The after-HYDRA pictures.

Blowing out a breath, trying to expel your sadness physically as well as mentally, you leaned your head against his shoulder. You waited to see if he tensed or moved away, but all you felt was the warm hardness of the plates of his arm underneath his jacket.

“You don’t know that,” Bucky said, voice equally soft. “I could have been the biggest idiot in the world. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was. Steve would agree with me.”

“Steve Rogers?” you asked, perking up. Captain Rogers’ backstory was practically known to everyone on the planet, and you’d waited for Bucky to mention him. You’d never imagined you’d get to know Steve Rogers’ best friend. Or that his best friend had turned into a demon.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he said, voice lilted with amusement. You took it as a sign that this was a safe topic, so you pressed on.

“What was he like?”

Bucky snorted again, and you weren’t expecting the arm that wrapped around your shoulders. You prayed he didn’t feel your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“Reckless. Too eager to jump into a fight he knew he would lose. Stupid and brave in equal parts. Reminds me of you, actually.”

“Thanks.”

He chuckled at your dry tone. “I mean it, though. About the brave thing. Most people would have turned tail and run at the first sight of me.”

You shrugged under his arm, nestling your cheek against his shoulder.

“I’m not brave. I’m afraid, all the time, of lots of things. But you didn’t scare me.”

He squeezed his arm tighter around you and a pleasant warmth prickled along your skin.

“You probably should have been. Not very smart of you to try and befriend a demon.”

“Hmm. Guess we’re both idiots then, huh.”

“Guess so.”

After a few seconds of silence, you added, “So, we’re definitely friends then, right?”

“Oh, my God,” he groaned.

“You did say I befriended a demon—“

“Woman.”

You snorted out a laugh, and his long-suffering sigh brought out a few more muffled giggles. He was too easy a target, and you were pretty sure he liked the teasing regardless of how much he moaned and groaned about it.

Besides, he hadn’t contradicted you. Knowing that he saw you as at least a friend, if nothing else, made the trip already worthwhile.

You could have remained like that for the rest of the day, leaning against Bucky’s warm side with his heavy arm around your shoulders. Hell, you would have been content with this for the rest of your life.

Did Bucky have any idea how you felt? What would he have thought, if he did? Knowing his levels of self-loathing, he wouldn’t be ready to hear it.

Which was one of the reasons you had invited him on this trip. All the excuses you had given Bucky were true: you had the feeding to think about, and there was the possibility of other demons lurking around.

But the true reason you’d asked him to come was to show him how you felt. That you trusted him, cared for him, and wanted him to be a part of your life, bond or not. There was always the chance it would backfire and that he would push you away again, but you would rather try and fail then never try at all. Imagining leaving Bucky alone during the holidays, holed up in that freezing tower, was unacceptable.

He would just have to suffer with overbearing family, Christmas carols on the TV, and heavily-spiked eggnog with you instead.

“We should probably go back downstairs,” Bucky said, gentle puffs of air tickling your hair. “Don’t want them to think I abducted you.”

“Mmm.”

You’d meant to say something more intelligent than that, but you hadn’t realized how tired you were from packing this morning and then the drive. It was getting close to dinnertime, and you could already smell the spices from something being cooked downstairs.

“Come on.”

Bucky easily lifted you to your feet and you protested with a resentful sigh. His returning smile made your stomach do funny flips, but it was nothing compared to the squirming it did when you remembered you would be sharing a bed with Bucky for the next few days.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Next Chapter

#bucky barnes #demon!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #demon!bucky barnes x reader #my writing #my fanfiction #branded

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, foolishsel!

For @foolishsel. I enjoyed writing this fic for you and I hope it meets all of your Sterek likes (: Merry Christmas!! -your S.S>

Read On AO3

️*****

Christmas at the Loft

The pack was sitting around the loft, everyone’s eyes on Derek. They were waiting for him to decide-it was all up to him.

His boyfriend nudged him from his spot beside him, “Come on Der, if you don’t play someone else has to sit out.” Stiles got that look in his eye, the one he usually got right before he began begging.

Derek glared around the room. “Is this really going to break Christmas if I don’t agree?” The pack all chimed in at once, “YES!”

He sighed heavily, still not wanting to give in. Stiles eyes met his. “Oh, come on babe, don’t be such a sour-grinch-wolf.” Derek’s brow raised and a smirk touched his face. “You just come up with that one?” The brown eyed boy shrugged his shoulders. Derek chuckled his direction, “You’re so proud of yourself right now, aren’t you?” Stiles winked at him flirtatiously. Almost at the same time they realized they weren’t alone, and turned back to the group. Derek gave them all the answer they’d been looking for. “Fine. How does this Secret Santa shit work anyway?”

The pack whooped and hollered in their victory as Lydia set out to make up name cards.

“Everyone fills out a sheet and puts it in this bag, then we all draw a name. Remember it’s a secret.” Lydia glared at Stiles for that last part; he feigned shock. “What?”

Everyone took a piece of paper with a matching red or green pen, Lydia made everything festive, and went to work writing down their likes and dislikes. Derek hadn’t a clue how to answer half the questions. What was his favorite restaurant? Favorite store? How would he know; not like he had time to stroll the town what with all the creatures that came to Beacon Hills threating to kill them and such.

He ended up skipping some altogether or answered, ‘I don’t.’ The weirdest question was ‘what is your favorite scent?’ The only thing he could come up with was Stiles. He’d memorized his fresh laundry smell mixed with mint, and that hint of Stiles anxiety-his scent was home.

Derek finished filling out the form, handing it back to Lydia; he felt sorry for whoever picked his name. They all agreed Lydia would keep hold of the master list as she was the only one who could be trusted not to lose it; they only hoped she wrote their names and not some cryptic code -it happened more often than not.

Lydia came around with the bag for everyone to draw a name, writing down who each person drew as she went. Stiles seemed happy about his pick. “Oh, this is going to be so easy!” Derek figured he got his best friend Scott whom he’d known practically his whole life. Lucky bastard.

Once it was Derek’s turn, he pulled out the last name hoping for someone easy like Isaac-he could just get him a stupid scarf. He reached his hand in the bag timidly, pulling out the last name, the one he’d hoped to avoid-Stiles. As if it being their first Christmas as a couple wasn’t enough, now Derek had to find him not one, but two amazing gifts. The only thing he’d come up with so far was some string and markers for his ‘who done it board’, though he was afraid Stiles might find a different activity for those items.

Once all the others had piled out of the loft, Derek and Stiles were left alone at last. Derek lunged for Stiles, but he squirmed out of his grip quickly. Damn wiry thing he was!

“Oh no you don’t my sexy werewolf! We only have a few days to shop for these gifts and I’m guessing you could use all the time you can get.” Derek flipped him off, moving quicker this time and pinned him to the wall. “How about I give you a gift right now?” Derek raised his brows in challenge, Stiles pecked him on the lips. “Maybe later babe.” Derek let him slide away, for now.

He moved to the couch and laid back, hoping an idea for Stiles would spring to life. It didn’t, but it’s was the thought that counted-right?

Derek spent almost the entirety of the next few day searching high and low for anything he could give Stiles, but always came up empty. What does one buy a neurotic teenager who cares more about people than things?

Christmas was two days away which meant Christmas eve was tomorrow night, and that was the day they were exchanging Secret Santa gifts.

The cool air fogged up around the werewolf as he puffed out heavy breaths. He could hear Stile’s heart beating semi rapidly as he approached the door, but not for the reasons he was thinking. Christmas music was blaring when he opened the door and he took in the sight in front of him. Lights were strung up everywhere around the loft: rainbow colored ones, classic gold, snowflakes, and ones that looked like dripping icicles. There was a massive Christmas tree in the middle of the floor, complete with more lights and ornaments that surrounded them. Stiles was pacing around the loft setting up miscellaneous decorations here and there, not noticing that his boyfriend had walked in.

Derek growled low in his throat, flashing his blue eyes. Stiles turned to see the noise. “Ahhh!”

He dropped the décor he had in his hands, ornaments clanging to the floor. “Jesus Derek, what did I tell you about sneaking up on me?” Derek flared his blues once more. “Probably the same thing I told you about decorating this place.” Ignoring his broodiness, Stiles strode over to him and Derek wrapped his arms around him from behind, resting his chin on Stiles shoulder.

“See now my sour-wolf, isn’t it a beauty?” Derek smiled into Stiles neck, trying to see everything through his eyes. He bent to kiss him along his jaw, sending shivers down Stiles arm. Derek whispered low in his ear, “The view’s not so bad I guess.” Stiles practically melted under him. “Ok Christmas later. You, me, bed, NOW!”

They chased each other around the loft until they were pinning one another to the bed, kissing each other fervently. Falling asleep with Stiles tucked safely in his arms that night, Derek finally knew what he was going to get him, but he was going to need some help.

Derek was up and out of the cozy-lit loft early the next morning, kissing Stiles on his forehead before heading out. He wanted to crawl back into bed and warm his boyfriend, but it would be selfish of him; he had gifts to get together by tonight.

On the way to his car, he stopped at Stiles jeep to grab an item he would need for part of the present, then he was on his way.

He stopped at the store first, knowing none of his pack would be awake this early. The craft store was lined with paper, stickers, paints, and all sorts of things Derek had never envisioned in his lifetime. He stood out like a sore thumb with his brooding looks and leather jacket. One of the workers eventually came to his rescue, helping him gather all of the supplies he would need: paper, glue, stickers, and a large box of sharpie markers. His next stop was Lydia’s house; she would know how to help him start the project and put it all together.

Once at Lydia’s place, he showed her the materials he’d gotten, laying out his plan for the gift. Lydia was left speechless; she stared at him in awe. Derek rubbed a hand through his hair, “Oh god. This is a stupid idea isn’t it?” Shaking herself out of her trance, Lydia placed a palm on his forearm. “Not at all. He’s going to love it!” She gave him a reassuring smile and he could see the glimmer of moisture in her eyes.

Lydia helped him set everything up, arranging the pages just so. Once the book was put together, Lydia created her page and sent Derek on his way to his next stop-Scott’s. Derek gave Scott the same spiel and was met with almost the same response as Lydia. Derek glared at him, “What?” Scott looked up at Derek’s glowing eyes, “Whoa, whoa! It’s a good idea…great idea! He’ll love it!” Derek growled slightly at him, but let him finish his part in peace.

Derek continued to make his way through the rest of his pack, skipping the ones who were out of town for the holidays. By the time he was done, he had a page from everyone: Scott, Lydia, Allison, Malia, and even Isaac-he knew Stiles secretly loved having him around.

Derek finished it off, putting everyone’s pages together, adding his own at the end. Stiles texted to let him know he’d be home in an hour or so, which gave him just enough time to grab the tools he needed to finish the other part of Stiles present. He finished the second gift in no time, leaving him a few extra minutes to change before everyone arrived.

The loft was filled once again with his pack, all of them wearing some kind of festive sweater or headband thing, Derek opted for his usual t-shirt and jeans combo, only slightly snarling when Stiles put a jingle bell necklace over his head. “It’s so you can’t sneak up on me anymore my love.” Stiles winked at him and Derek pulled him closer.

The gift exchange was going well and the pack was finally able to relax from the luring creatures of Beacon Hills. Stiles had gotten Scott after all, gifting him with new lacrosse gear and date-night activities for him and Alison. How cute; Derek rolled his eyes.

Isaac handed Derek a small gift box, looking away nervously-the rest of his pack shrugged their shoulders. Derek eyed the box cautiously, opening it slowly to reveal a dark green-scarf? Derek didn’t get the chance to say anything as Stiles was already on a tirade.

“Oh, I don’t think so Lahey! You’re not going to push your stupid scarf fetish on MY boyfriend. No sir!” Derek let him get it all out, eventually grabbing him by the elbows to pull him back down to the couch. The rest of the pack snickered to themselves, Isaac looked ready to vomit.

Derek bent to Stiles, trying to whisper quiet enough that the others intensified hearing wouldn’t pick it up, but loud enough that Stiles human ears would. “You know, I have a few ideas of what we could do with that scarf.” Stiles gulped loudly, looking around at the others also hoping they hadn’t heard. No one seemed to notice and the gift exchanging continued.

The time had finally come to hand Stiles his gift. Derek picked up the present and gently placed it in Stiles lap. Stiles looked up at him with a wide grin spread across his face. Derek watched Stiles take the top off the box and delicately pull out the book. Stiles began flipping through the pages completely mesmerized. Each of their friends had found their favorite picture of them with Stiles and wrote a little story about their friendship to go with it.

Stiles looked around the room, moisture flecked in the corners of his eyes. “You guys did this-for me?” “We love you Stiles!” The pack tackle-hugged him, brining Derek down with them. Stiles looked up at Derek knowingly, thanking him in their unspoken language.

With the gifts all opened, Derek sat back watching his pack pile food on their plates, gathering around the Christmas tree; it was a calming sight to see. They stayed through most of the night, the loft filled with music and banter among them.

Later, after everyone had left, Derek and Stiles were curled up on the couch together listening to the fire crackle while the lights danced on the walls. The clock struck midnight and Stiles jumped out of Derek’s strong arms. “Merry Christmas!!” Stiles looked like a kid on-well Christmas. Derek chuckled softly, “You’re such a dork.” Stiles grinned at him, “Yes, but I’m your dork.” Derek rolled his eyes playfully, standing from the couch. He went to the tree and reached under it until he found the package he was looking for. Derek went back to the couch where Stiles now sat with his book from earlier. It was sprawled across his lap, opened to Derek’s page. The picture was of them back when they were ‘just friends’, not that they every really were. They both had tooth-grinning smiles plastered on their faces; Derek knew it was one of Stiles favorites. The writing under it read: ‘Even when we weren’t together, we were. You’ve always been my best friend Stiles. I couldn’t do any of this without your crazy antics. Love you, D.’

Stiles beamed from beside him, tears in his eyes. Derek brought him closer, placing small kisses on his head. He slid the other present onto Stiles lap. “Open it.” Stiles pulled away slightly so he could look him in the eye. “More?” He held up the photo book, “This wasn’t enough?!” Derek laughed, pushing the present closer to him, “Nope.” Stiles sighed dramatically though Derek could hear his heart beating with excitement.

Stiles first glance at the present was puzzlement until Derek told him to turn it over. It was Stiles bat, his prized weapon of choice. Derek had polished it up and engraved it with Stiles initials and the spiral that matched his tattoo. Underneath those were the words: ‘When I can’t protect you, this will.’

Stiles was fully into his emotions now, burying himself into Derek. When the tears settled, Derek asked him, “So, did I do ok?” Stiles looked him dead in the eye. “Ok? I-I” Derek howled with laughter. “Wait did I actually leave Stiles Stilinski speechless?” He faked shock and Stiles swatted him slightly. They fell into each other’s arms again, Stiles nestled up closely to him.

“You know, this might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” His boyfriend eyed him suspiciously, “You haven’t even opened any presents yet!” Derek kissed him on the forehead, rubbing his hands over Stiles soft skin. “I already have the best one.” Stiles turned around to face him, finding Derek’s lips with ease as they kissed each other tenderly.

Pulling away slightly, Stiles asked, “You meant the scarf, right?” Both of them burst into laughter.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, wrapped up like gifts. Christmas wasn’t so bad after all Derek thought. He could get used to this; in fact, he already had.

#foolishsel #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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yatorihell · 4 years

Text

In The Darkness Chapter 67 - Felix Felicis

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 2,054

Summary: A burning question is answered, and a potion is taken

Also available on Yatorihell A03

Christmas break passed with no incident. The vision repeated itself in Yato’s head and the burning question: why did Professor Tenjin have Sakura’s necklace?

By the time it was time to board the Hogwarts Express and go back to school, Yato was exhausted. The visions never changed no matter how much he tried over the weeks. The thought of a horcrux being hidden under his nose had him distrustful of what Professor Tenjin was doing with it.

The trip back to Hogwarts was quiet. Staring out at snow-capped hills and icy lakes of the highlands, Yato could only hope Madame Kofuku had some answers for him.

No sooner had he, Yukine, and Hiyori had entered Hogwarts did Madame Kofuku appear, a bob of pink hair in a sea of black, searching for Yato. Her eyes lit on him, and in a second, she was dragging him by the sleeve up away from Yukine and Hiyori and up the winding staircase to the headmaster’s tower.

“Miss,” Yato said for the fourth time, his arm still captured as he was pulled along, “what happened? Did Professor Tenjin say something?”

Madame Kofuku looked behind and, seeing that they had left any remnants of eavesdropping students far behind them, she released his arm. “I spoke to the headmaster as soon as you told me what you saw. He asked to speak with you as soon as you come back to Hogwarts.”

Yato felt an unfamiliar chill up his spine. He had never feared Professor Tenjin when he was brought up to his office for insolence, flying in the corridors, or even truancy. But this… this was something he dreaded with every step.

All too soon they were at the headmaster’s door. Madame Kofuku didn’t bother knocking, instead leading Yato into the spacious office he’d been seeing every night for two weeks. Professor Tenjin was stood at the window, hands behind his back and his side profile showing that he was gazing out at the expanse of the lake beneath him.

They both remained silent, waiting for the headmaster to address them. Yato felt small as Professor Tenjin’s eyes fell on him across the room, and the smile did nothing to ease his jitters.

“Madame Kofuku, thank you for bringing him to me,” Professor Tenjin said. He made no bid to dismiss Madame Kofuku which was a small relief.

Yato’s eyes followed as the headmaster crossed the floor in a sweep of black robes, his pipe barely visible in the folds of his sleeve as he came to stand behind his desk chair.

“I understand you had a vision.”

Yato’s gaze shifted to Madame Kofuku who gave him an imperceptible nod. “Yes, headmaster.”

“Of a horcrux?”

Again, a glance. Again, a nod.

“Yes.”

Professor Tenjin’s expression hadn’t changed as he set down his pipe and slid open the drawer on his desk. Its contents jostled at the movement and after brief rummaging Professor Tenjin found what he was looking for: a necklace on a silver chain. The same one Yato had seen in Grimmauld Place.

Yato frowned, wondering what this was meant to prove. If anything, it proved that he had broken into his home, stolen Sakura’s necklace, and knew that it was a horcrux.

“This,” Professor Tenjin said, “is a necklace from Hogsmeade.”

When the notable silence stretched on, he continued. “I imagine there are many necklaces like this one – trinkets that students buy throughout their years at Hogwarts –, which would make it all the more easier for the Sorcerer to conceal a horcrux. Like hiding a coin in a treasure chest.

Professor Tenjin waved his free hand in the air at the example, but seeing Yato’s uncertainty, he held out the necklace. “But I can assure you, this isn’t a horcrux.”

Yato’s fingers flinched before they closed around the cold stone, but this time no voice called out to him. Nothing begged him to open the clasp.

“How can that be possible?” Yato asked. He looked at Madame Kofuku, but she was just as lost as he was.

Professor Tenjin’s chair scraped back and when Yato turned the headmaster was sitting, hands folded in his lap, eyes closed in a usual frown. After a beat, his eyes opened but did not meet Yato.

“The Sorcerer knows how to manipulate you. There is a chance he is aware of what we’re doing and trying to lead you down the wrong path.”

The wrong path, Yato glanced at the necklace in his hand before placing it back on the desk with a gentle thud. So, the necklace isn’t a horcrux?

“Headmaster, if that is the case, is it of any use that Yato continues searching?” Madame Kofuku’s voice broke the silence that had settled around them.

A flicker of hope and panic fluttered in Yato’s chest, but it was quickly quashed by a simple word.

“No.”

Professor Tenjin's eyes finally met Yato’s, weighed with decision. These weren’t the eyes of a madman, nor a Deatheater. These were the eyes of a guardian.

“You are the best chance we have at finding and defeating the Sorcerer. Before the war comes that will end us all.”

With their shaken faith in Professor Tenjin resolved, Yato, Yukine, and Hiyori could breathe a sigh of relief now that they knew the truth. Whilst it was a bittersweet victory that the necklace wasn’t a horcrux – nor that Professor Tenjin was a Deatheater – there was a new, imminent threat:

Mock exams.

The first few weeks of January always brought sixth and seventh years alike to the library, desperately trying to cram information for forgotten subjects that would, to no avail, sink in.

“It’s only a mock exam,” Yato said. “I didn’t do well in mine and I turned it around. I have a real exam later and I’m not stressed.”

“Didn’t you fail two subjects?” Yukine pointed out.

“That’s beside the point.”

“Could you be quiet?” Hiyori asked.

The boys looked at the top of Hiyori’s head which was bent over a book thicker than the plate of cold toast in front of her. Gryffindor's table had become a makeshift study area before Hiyori would have her History of Magic exam. Mock exam, Yato kept pointing out, but she batted him away every time he tried to tug the book away.

Yato mimicked her, moving his mouth to match her phrase. Yukine bit back a smile lest Hiyori see them mocking her and break down altogether.

“You know, there are other ways to be sure you’ll win,” Yato nudged her in the side and, finally, Hiyori sighed and looked up. The book slammed shut harder than she intended as she swivelled to face Yato on the bench.

“And what,” Hiyori asked, “would that be?”

Yato grinned, one that Hiyori had come to know as his trouble-making grin, and reached into the pocket of his robe. A second later, pinched in between two fingers, was a vial.

“Luck would be a lady to- er, this morning, if you drank this.”

Hiyori looked horrified. Not only from the potion, but from what he was telling her to do.

“Yato!” Hiyori hissed. She looked behind her and at the other tables where, thankfully, no one had heard his proposition. “I can’t cheat!”

“Is it cheating if the exam doesn’t count?” Yato countered. He waggled the vial in between his fingers, watching Hiyori chew her lip and her eyes follow the potion vial.

“I mean, I was saving it for my potions exam today…” Yato pondered as if he were regretting the offer.

“Apparently you don’t need help with potions now you can make anything,” Yukine said, bitter from a term of being shown up at his own specialty.

Whilst that was true, Yato’s success only came from Madame Kofuku’s annotated book; something that he couldn’t bring into the exam.

“Well, a bit more luck couldn’t hurt.”

Yato began to retract the vial, but before he could slip the vial away Hiyori had taken it from his hands, uncorked the lid, and swallowed the entire potion before her better judgment could stop her.

Hiyori coughed and looked at Yato’s stunned face, mournful but unregretful. Silence wrapped around them as Yukine balanced his chin on his hand – waiting, watching, for what the potion would do.

Slowly, a smirk worked its way onto Hiyori’s face.

Faster than Yato could react, Hiyori had a hold on his tie, tugging him down sharply so they were practically face to face. Yato would’ve choked on his cereal if he could, but the fact that Hiyori’s lips were millimeters from his, and her eyes were boring into his very soul with an insatiable appetite. She leaned in even closer. Her mouth parted gently, breath ghosting his jaw and making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as she tilted her head to nibble – no, whisper – into his ear.

“You know I don’t need a potion to pass my exams,” Hiyori said in a low voice. A smile played at her lips as she pulled away and Yato swallowed hard. “But thank you.”

Hiyori swung her legs over the bench and without taking her bag or book left the Great Hall.

Yato and Yukine stared after her, open-mouthed. They exchanged a glance before Yukine burst out in hysterical laughter that drew the attention of a few neighbouring yet annoyed sixth-years.

“I wish you’d offered me some of that if it makes you that confident,” Yukine jibed. He decided it would be better not to tease Yato for the blush on his cheeks as he shook his head free of Hiyori’s spell.

Yato found the strength to close his mouth, but a moment later his lips were working back into a smile that threatened to split into a silly grin. He looked at Yukine, eyes bright with mischief.

“You wanna know a secret? You can’t tell Hiyori.”

Yukine looked at Yato doubtfully; they didn’t keep secrets. “What?”

“That wasn’t a potion.”

Yukine listed his head to the side with a frown. Yato’s grin grew giddier.

“I already took the potion and replaced it with pumpkin juice.”

Yukine’s mouth fell open, speechless. He’d tricked Hiyori into thinking she’d taken a potion… and she did that. “Why?!”

Yato shrugged and bit into a piece of toast. “She needed confidence, and she got it.”

Before Yukine could form a coherent sentence, Yato was scooping up his and Hiyori’s bags to take to his first lesson. Yato leaned over the table and pat Yukine on the cheek with the same giddy grin that would stay there for a week.

“Good luck with your exam.”

Hiyori felt that her mock exam went well; she easily remembered the dates and notable events of the first uses of magic and witch trials, and the buzz of the potion kept her on a high until dinner time.

Yet by the time the ‘potion’ had worn off, Hiyori was trying to forget the entire day.

She would’ve died of embarrassment if she could see herself that morning – or if anyone else had paid her attention besides Yato and Yukine. She had to force her mind to think of something else to stop herself from wilting with embarrassment every time the memory intruded, but there was no avoiding Yato.

After dinner, Yato and Yukine approached her at Gryffindor table, which she noted was the same spot she had sat that morning. She felt a hole would swallow her if she didn’t stand quickly and follow them from that embarrassing moment, but it seemed that what she did that morning couldn’t have been so embarrassing.

Yato greeted her just the same; no awkwardness, no shyness, though Hiyori felt a twinge in her chest whenever he looked at her. She felt herself searching for anything different about him as they made their way to the library, but nothing told her that he’d been thinking about that morning.

Yukine, on the other hand, watched the two interact, painfully aware of how they stepped around the elephant in the room and wishing that they would stop being so damn shy about expressing how they felt.

Still, he couldn’t force them to. They would have to work it out themselves.

Little did he know that a gift was already waiting in Yato’s room, heart-shaped and addressed from Hiyori.

#noragami #noragami aragoto #yato #hiyori #yukine #kofuku #tenjin #yatori #hp au #harry potter au #in the darkness #my writing

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the-enamorando-deity · 4 years

Note

Will you pretty please do a Wanda x reader fic from the song speechless by Dan + Shay? 🥺💛

this was so soft my stomach hurts :)

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Speechless

You say you'll be down in five

The smell of your perfume

You loved Wanda more every time you saw her, you felt your time was worthwhile on the earth while she was with you. There was nothing a smile from her couldn’t fix, even her fingers just brushing over your skin brightened a dark day.

Is floating down the stairs

You're fixing up your hair like you do

She smiled down at you, grinning ear to ear. You always loved your anniversary, the only chance you got to spoil her, birthdays and Christmas nowhere near special enough for the things you wanted to get for her.

I know that I'll be a mess

The second that I see you

You refused to let her know how much you’d spent this anniversary, but you spent more every time. You learned how much she meant to you, and this was your second favourite way to show her.

You won't be surprised

It happens every time

Every dress you bought for her fit perfectly, every pair of jeans hugging the right places, the t-shirts she stole from you, unwittingly falling into your plan. You mostly got things you knew she would sneak from your drawers to wear, ones you could share at the least.

It's nothing new

It's always on a night like tonight

You took her hand with a grin, the red dress sitting just right, every jewel on her fingers and neck handpicked, but the earrings were her mothers, and she never took them out. You knew not to ask, knowing it was all she had left. You didn’t mind, you got every other part of her.

I thank God you can read my mind

'Cause when you look at me with those eyes

You loved when she was angry, because it was never at you, and her eyes held a unique spark that drew you in even deeper. You could calm her down with a few words, or by holding her hand,

I'm speechless

Staring at you, standing there in that dress

When she was sad, she was too good at hiding it. You still knew, and all you had to do was be there and it would make her feel less alone.

What it's doing to me, ain't a secret

'Cause watching you is all that I can do

The anger and the sadness were rare, but the fear was something constant that you had learned to help her deal with. Everyone had their triggers, but Wanda’s could lead to catastrophe if her emotions spiked, especially under the control of her powers.

And I'm speechless

You already know that you're my weakness

This year was your third together, and you didn’t want to live without her in your life. Every time you held her in your arms, you fell so much deeper in love. She made you smile like no one else had before, and you ached for her.

After all this time I'm just as nervous

Every time you walk into the room

‘Are you ready to go?’ she asked, linking her arm in yours.

You didn’t realise she’d even asked you something, you were lost too deep in her eyes. She nudged you, but you still didn’t answer.

‘Dragostea mea, is everything alright?’

I'm speechless

It started when you said hello

It all seemed like seconds ago you met, moments ago you fell in love, and God, you fell so hard it would leave a mark forever.

Just did something to me

And I've been in a daze

When you made it to the restaurant, it was almost empty, and you got the most beautiful view from your table. You didn’t tell Wanda how much extra you slipped the maitre d’.

Ever since the day that we meet

You take the breath out of my lungs

You managed to fumble through dinner without hinting at anything, but Wanda knew something was playing on your mind. You could feel her powers gently touching on your thoughts, but you had practiced on keeping her from the important things.

Can't even fight it

And all of the words out of my mouth without even trying

As dessert arrived, you reached into the pocket of your three-piece suit and hid a small box in your lap, and your fingers trembled over the velvet.

And I'm speechless

Staring at you, standing there in that dress

You wanted to do it so many times, it hurt hiding something from her. You wished you had powers of your own so you could test the waters, but all you had was luck and hope.

What it's doing to me, ain't a secret

'Cause watching you is all that I can do

You were grateful no one else was around to see you possibly make a fool of yourself. Wanda took a sip of her wine and looked around the restaurant, her eyes never stopping as she scanned every surface.

And I'm speechless

You already know that you're my weakness

Every anniversary and birthday, you bought her a different piece of jewellery. An anklet, a bracelet, a necklace, anything but earrings and one other small thing.

After all this time I'm just as nervous

Every time you walk into the room

You were sweating bullets, and the wine wasn’t helping. Why of all nights did you have to drink so much wine? You could feel your words slipping, almost slurring as Wanda watched you down your third glass.

I'm speechless

Yeah, baby, mmm

You reached across the table and took her hands, tilting your head as her eyes returned from the art deco ceiling and back to you.

It's always on a night like tonight

I thank God you can read my mind

She didn’t even feel you slip the ring onto her finger, she didn’t know anything but the look in your eyes and the sudden thought that popped into your mind.

'Cause when you look at me with those eyes

I'm speechless

You didn’t have to say a word, you watched her eyes grow big as she slipped her hands away from yours, and you felt your heart start to race. This was all you had been waiting for.

You're standing there in that dress

Girl it ain't a secret

Wanda looked down to her hand and saw the black silver ring, a ruby buried into the decorative swirls, the band dotted in red diamonds.

'Cause watching you is all that I can do, oh

I'm speechless

‘Oh my God,’ she managed, pulling it up to her face, her whole hand trembling as she struggled to find the words to answer.

You already know that you're my weakness

After all this time I'm just as nervous

She was unable to answer, looking at you as though her entire world was in your eyes, and for Wanda, it was.

Every time you walk into the room

I'm speechless

She jumped to her feet and scrambled around to kiss you, long and deep, and you wanted nothing more.

Oh, you know it, baby

Oh oh, mmm

When she broke away from you, you held her face in your hands and ran a thumb over her cheek as a tear ran down it. ‘So… Is that a yes?’

@marvelfansince08love @mymarvelwomen @imnotasuperhero

#songfic #request complete #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #marvel #avengers #asks #not anon #fanfiction #my writing

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the-truest-sentence-i-know · 4 years

Text

A Ravenclaw Enters

(Christmas Holidays in the Gryffindor Girls’ Dorms, pt. 5)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Characters: Luna Lovegood x Parvati Patil x Hermione Granger x Ginny Weasley

Rating: Explicit (it’s a PWP)

Summary: Plus Luna makes four. Also, the prefects bathroom is a lovely place for a bath.

Word Count: 1.8k

ao3 ||| ff.net ||| wattpad

Hermione sat in the library, doing some research for herself, when Luna came to sit beside her.

"Hey, Luna," Hermione said quietly. "How are you doing?"

"A bit bored, honestly," she said. "There isn't a lot to do."

"There's a bunch of us in Gryffindor here over the break," said Hermione. "You should come hang out with us sometime."

"That would be lovely," Luna said. "Do you only have sex, or other stuff too?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked around them quickly. "How did you-?"

Luna shrugged. "All three of you have that look about you, you know?"

Hermione stared, unsure of how to respond.

"Anyway," Luna said breezily. "I'm down with pretty much anything. I'll join you three tonight. We can walk down after dinner." And with that, she got up and walked away, leaving Hermione quite speechless.

At dinner, Hermione sat with Ginny and Parvati. She quickly - and quietly- told them what Luna had said.

Parvati grinned. "She is definitely into some kinky shit," she said. "This should be fun."

At the end of dinner, Luna approached the Gryffindor table where Hermione, Ginny and Parvati sat.

"Hello," she said dreamily.

"Hullo, Luna," Ginny said. "I heard you were joining us this evening."

Luna nodded. "I was thinking we could go to the prefects bathroom, you know with the pool sized bathtub?"

Hermione and Parvati exchanged a grin.

Luna, as it turned out, was very good at finding out passwords and the four soon found themselves in the luxurious prefects bathroom.

Hermione was the only one who had been there before, but was seeing it with new eyes at the prospect of the evening.

"This is how the prefects bathe?" Parvati exclaimed. "Damn, there must be fullout orgies happening all the time in here."

Luna smiled. "How do you think I knew the password?"

Ginny laughed and shook her head, beginning to tug off her clothes. The others quickly followed suit.

Soon, the tub was filled and they plunged in. They first just messed around a bit, splashing and chasing each other. Brief kisses were exchanged but not much more.

When they had tired of that, they retreated to the shallow end where the stone bottom was molded perfectly for lounging, charmed to feel soft as a cushion.

Parvati was absentmindedly touching herself under the water, her head leaning on Ginny's shoulder.

"You know," said Ginny. "I believe Luna deserves a thank you for this, don't you guys agree?"

Luna smiled. "Well if you all insist."

"Oh I do," said Parvati. She moved to Luna's side and kissed down her neck and chest. She put her lips around Luna's nipple, teasing it with her tongue. Luna sighed in pleasure and leaned her head back.

Ginny came over to Luna's other side and turned her head to her in a kiss. It was slow and deep and the combined pleasure made her moan into Ginny's mouth.

Hermione quickly cast a bubblehead charm on herself before going underwater. She manoeuvred herself between Luna's legs and tentatively drew her tongue through the folds.

Above the water, Luna gasped in surprise at the stimulation. She put a hand on Hermione's head, pushing her towards her pussy encouragingly.

Hermione lapped enthusiastically at Luna's pussy, pushing the folds open with her fingers to delve in deeper. She brought a thumb up to rub at Luna's clit as she felt the tension build. Luna revelled in the heavy stimulation. Parvati's pretty mouth sucked on her breast, while her hand massaged the other, pinching the nipple between her fingers gently. Ginny kissed her with a thoroughness and a relentlessness that would have left her gasping all on its own- even without everything else. She sucked at her lips and her jawline and her neck until all Luna could do was moan.

And Hermione... Hermione was proving once again that she could learn and become proficient at anything she set her mind to because she was doing damn amazing things with her tongue and fingers. All the more arousing because Luna couldn't see her through the intertwined limbs of Ginny and Parvati.

She watched as water ran off the bodies of Ginny and Parvati, rolling over their forces, mingling with their sweat.

Hermione could feel Luna nearing her climax and upped the pace, eating away at her pussy as she vigorously rubbed her clit. Ginny and Parvati heard how Luna's gasps and cries heightened and did their part to push her over the edge.

Luna came undone in their arms, her final cry echoing off the walls and high ceiling as she collapsed, tumbling into the three sets of arms that held her. They all peppered her skin with soft kisses - Hermione along the insides of her thighs, Parvati on her breasts and stomach, and Ginny all over her face and neck. When Hermione came back up above water, Luna pulled her in for a kiss. "You were lovely," she said against her lips.

Hermione straddled Luna, deepening the kiss. Luna's hands roamed down her back and settled on her ass, squeezing and pulling her closer to herself.

Beside them, Luna and Ginny occupied themselves with each other. Parvati sat on the edge of the pool with Ginny between her legs. Gripping Parvati's legs, Ginny lapped at her folds hungrily. With one hand, Parvati massaged her own breast while the other pushed Ginny deeper into her. Parvati's head leant back, her eyes closed and her mouth partway open in pleasure.

Ginny, feeling her face pressing harder against Parvati's pussy, pushed her tongue past her entrance. Parvati gasped, hips bucking involuntarily against Ginny's face. Ginny's arms moved to be around Parvati, pulling her closer as her tongue delved deeper. Luna was well on her way to returning the pleasure to Hermione, her one hand having moved between them. With one finger, she entered Hermione, whose position allowed her to move against it. Slowly, she added another and another finger until Hermione was bucking her hips in abandon to feel them fill her.

With a splash, Luna flipped them over so Hermione was on her back. With more leverage on her side, Luna was able to press in deeper. Hermione's back arched as she moaned, her arms flying back to grip the edge of the pool. With every thrust, Luna's fingers hit her most sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure flooding over her as she neared her release.

Parvati was getting close too, her legs involuntarily squeezing around Ginny as she artfully ate her out. She could feel Parvati's muscles clench more and more as she drew out the release. She teased Parvati's pussy, eking out every gasp and moan she could without bringing her all the way.

"Come on, Ginny," Parvati whined.

Ginny pulled her face away from Parvati's core. "Is this not satisfactory?"

Parvati groaned, grabbing Ginny's hair and pressing her to her pussy. Ginny smiled as she resumed her skillful work. She increased the tempo slowly and added her thumb, rubbing her clit, for good measure.

Parvati tumbled over the edge, thighs clenching around Ginny, throwing her head back in pleasure. Ginny kissed her lower stomach gently, feeling her stomach muscles twitching as the orgasm rolled over her.

Hermione came some time after, appreciating Luna's efficient, thorough performance. She had somehow known that Hermione wanted to be pushed down and thoroughly fucked, and had done that. And when she came, Luna drew out the pleasure with a few last thrusts before pulling her into a bruising kiss.

Ginny was the only one who had not come yet. "So, what are you into?" Luna asked.

In response, Ginny grabbed her strapon from her bag at the edge of the pool. "Who wants to get fucked?"

Luna lay on her stomach on a floating raft, her legs hanging over the edge in waist high water. Ginny stepped behind her, magical strapon hard with arousal. She lifted Luna's legs up on either side of her so they extended straight behind her. Luna, not being able to see Ginny, waited in anticipation, growing wetter by the minute. She didn't want to come, and she'd told Ginny this. She loved the prospect of being fucked selfishly, greedily, by someone she couldn't see.

Ginny lined up the strapon before sinking slowly into Luna's folds. Luna sighed, closing her eyes as she adjusted to it. Ginny took a moment before pulling all the way out and thrusting in again, faster this time. Luna resisted the urge to bring a hand down to her clit and rested her head on her hands instead.

Ginny started up a tempo, thrusting her hips and pulling Luna's legs to her, filling her pussy with the strap. Luna had no control over anything and let herself be pulled and pushed as Ginny used her body to get closer to her release.

"Tell me about what you're... ah, doing to me," Luna said, gasping with each thrust.

Closing her eyes, Ginny thrust into her as hard as she could. "You're just a hole for my cock," she growled. "Nothing more than a pussy to get off in."

Luna moaned when Ginny hit a particularly sensitive spot. She bit her lip, feeling her pussy stretch to accommodate her girth. The slight twinges of pain added to it, Ginny's tight grip on her thighs, the jolts when she bottomed out inside her.

"And since all you are is a hole for my cock, you're not going to come," Ginny continued feeling her arousal growing with each word, her want, her need to fuck the way her words said. "I won't let you, no matter how close you get." She groaned as she neared her climax. "You're just here to be used, fucked and filled with my cum."

On their own magically stationary rafts, Hermione and Parvati watched the scene unfold, fingers thrusting into themselves. Hermione heard Ginny's low rumbling words and pretended it was she who was getting fucked like that. Parvati watched as Luna fought not to come, as Ginny's strap entered her, and pressed her fingers farther into herself, imagining Luna fighting to obey her like that.

Ginny reached a crescendo and thrust a hard few last times before coming into Luna's eager pussy. She pumped into Luna and pulled out quickly. Luna was quivering all over from the stimulation without release. She took a few deep breaths before rolling onto her back and looking at Ginny, who was watching her.

"How'd you know I'd be into that?" she asked.

Luna shrugged. "Intuition."

Ginny smiled and kissed her deeply. With a shudder, Luna came, the kiss being all that was needed to send her over the edge after all the stimulation.

The rest of the evening was spent in hazy pleasure, with everyone getting what they needed and wanted, if not more.

#smut #pwp #hp smut #hp fanfiction #hp #ginny weasley #luna lovegood #hermione granger #parvati patil #linny #ginny x luna #ginny x hermione #hermione x luna #hermione x parvati #ginny x parvati #luna x parvati #Christmas Holidays in the Gryffindor Girls’ Dorms #my writing

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symphonicbarnes · 5 years

Text

Ignite

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader A/N: This is my first smut! I'm! Terrified!! I genuinely tried on this, it may not be A1, but I tried lmao. I feel like this has been done before (if it is I’m sorry), but I gave it a shot. Let me know what you think, I hope you like it! (And thank you for the love on my first fic! I appreciate it so much.) Warnings: 18+ possible tw: body image insecurities, language, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving), slight breeding kink, praise kink, fluffy stuff

Word Count: 3k

-----

Silence stilled in the walls of the bathroom as you stared at your own reflection. You sharply inhale to diffuse the bubbling cauldron of anxiety in your chest. When you exhaled, you examined the soft roll of your belly. It was just there. Taunting you. It was almost a surprise like you've just discovered this new swell of skin. Did it just come up? I mean, you've had more Thai takeout recently since missions have slowed down, but damn, you thought it wasn't that much.

You wanted to scream high enough to shatter the glass in front of you. Loud enough like a banshee, the other half of the world will hear it. You just wanted to release the frustration buried in your sternum. You just wanted to feel confident in the body you were in. You were standing there for so long you didn't even notice your boyfriend was watching you. He saw the intense indention between your brows. Your lips pinched together. He knows exactly what's happening. You're doing it again. He felt the tug of the heartstrings because he knew you were feeling insecure again. He was literally you two nights ago. He had some nights where he was insecure with his hunk of metal, but you always brought him back to the peace of mind and worshipped him with love. All the caressing of hands across his body. Gentle kisses blending with butterfly kisses. Everything you could muster to engage the delicate smiles you adored from him. Now he wanted to conjure the smiles from you.

"Doll, do you need a kiss?" He cooed. You broke your zoned gaze from the mirror and looked at him. You nodded up at him; your bottom lip stuck out oh-so-slightly. He stepped towards you, and he embraced you into his solid chest. Your cheek squished against his pec, and you blew the hair that fell into your face. "I don't feel cute today, Buck." You muffled. He wrapped his arms tighter and locked them. "It's okay, you know I'm a bit biased, but I love you, and I think you look adorable today." He said faintly pressing kisses to your crown. He couldn't see your face, but he felt you huff in his arms. "You always say I look adorable." You frowned. He shifted his gaze to the tip of your nose, and he pressed light kisses to it. "I know, but you say I always speak the truth, so you don't think I'm a liar, do you?" He teased. You gazed up at him with your cheek still firmly pressed against him, you bit your bottom lip lightly. "No. Of course not." You mumbled.

Then it hit Bucky- he knows how to help.

The lightbulb in his mind flashed, and he suddenly releases his grip around your waist. The gears turning in his head, and the sly smirk alerted you. "What? What are you thinking?" You questioned in suspicion. He kissed your forehead and raised his finger to your lips. "I've got a surprise for ya darling, wait here." He dashed out of the bathroom, and you couldn't help giggle at his unexpected eccentrics. There were a couple seconds of ambient silence, but then you heard shuffling and sounds of paper being crumpled around from the closet you two shared. You patiently stood in the middle of the bathroom, curiously wondering what he could surprise you with right now.

A moment passed, and Bucky came back in with a sleek matte black box with a black ribbon bow on top. "Here you go, sweetheart. I was going to wait until Christmas, but I think this is a good time." He gave a loving half-smile mixed with anticipation. "Go on, open it." He insisted. You tugged at the ends of the black ribbon, and you loosened the knot, and it unraveled. You patiently took your time getting the box off the top, and you finally took it off to reveal a pile of lace underneath.

You were speechless as the heat rose to your cheeks. It was lingerie. It was a deep plum set, with straps that branched off bottoms, and the cups had lace rose appliques. It was gorgeous, and you couldn't believe he had nailed this so perfectly. He chortled at your dumbfounded expression. "Nat actually helped me pick. I showed her the options, and she thought this was more you, which I thought so too. Do you like it?" He asked with the undertone of hope in his voice. You acknowledged him breathlessly, and you launched yourself in his arms. Wrapping your forearms around his neck, kissing him all over. "Of course I do" You squealed between your machine gun kissing actions. "Honestly, good choice. Thank you, and Nat." Bucky giggled at your attack on his skin, and his tone shifted once you pecked your lips sloppily down his throat. "Try it on for me." He whispered lowly at your earlobe. A shiver went down your spine, and you pulled away to look at him. He peered at you with desire, as if he was already mentally imaging you in the lace number. He ran his tongue over his lips, and you watched him with shifting attempt to stop the spreading heat between your thighs. You nodded without saying a word, and you stood up and took the box back to the bathroom. Before you shut the door, you met Bucky's eyes with a devious grin to amplify the anticipation.

You carelessly shuffled off your leggings and bulky sweatshirt and kicked off your fluffy socks. You basically ripped your sports bra and cotton underwear off, and carefully slipped on the delicate garments and inspected yourself once again. The color was excellent on you, and the straps on the bottoms really accentuated the soft curves of your hips. The bra had push-up padding, and it pressed your cleavage together nicely. Bucky's gonna lose his mind.

You stared at yourself in utter shock and ran your hands over the sides of your frame, and something sparked inside. Power. Confidence. Maybe even- love. Love for the way this flimsy material hugged your body, and love for the Adonis of a man outside, who you couldn't wait to jump on.

You opened the door and revealed yourself to him, he was already sitting on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for his gift. Once he took the first look, the breath hitched in his abdomen. His mouth parted open, and his eyes scanned your entire body from head to toe. Your lack of makeup really set the look for him, as he raked his eyes to your swelling breasts that look like they could escape the cups at any moment. The tightness in his chest resorted down south, and his jeans started to strain with his arousal growing.

"Well damn." He finally choked out. "You look so hot. Fuck, y/n. You have no idea what this is doing to me." He said in shallow breaths. You grinned at him. Mischief glimmered in your eyes as you took steps towards him. He reached his arms out to pull you onto his lap, straddling him. He immediately bombarded your clavicle with hungry kisses, trailing up to your neck, like you had done to him earlier. He took the chance to suck and graze his teeth over the sensitive areas. You shuddered to the response of his rapid actions.

Once he got to your lips, it was all teeth and tongue. He sucked on your bottom lip as he swiped it, eager to explore your mouth. It was so starving, but still sweet enough. His hands explored over the cups of your breasts, and he glided his hands to your back. "You know, I won't take this off just yet. You just put it on, I'd hate to rip it off ya." He slid his hands down your sides and anchored his fingers around your underwear. "But these," He tugged them down. "Are coming off now." He growled, and you raised your hips to let him shimmy them down to your knees and ankles, and he quickly discarded them across the room.

He cupped your ass in both hands, and you felt the hard, cooling metal squeeze into your fleshy bottom. He gripped in roughly and smacked it, and softly ran his hands over the reddening skin to soothe it. You couldn't help but slip a moan at him smacking your ass. "Buck-" You gasped. "Can I take care of you?" You whined. You could feel your lust start to drip around your thighs. You wanted to feel pathetic for your excessive arousal. Still, you couldn't say anything, because he suddenly twirled his fingers around your folds. A shrill gasp escaped your throat, and your back arched with the metal coming in contact with your core. The sensation of him fiddling with your small bud with his fingertips flamed your whole body. He hummed, and his darkened eyes lured into yours.

"I couldn't help myself, I had to feel how wet you got for me. You can deal with me later, I wanna take care of you first." He grunted. He picked you up and laid you down, and in a blink of an eye, he was on his knees in front of you. He spread your thighs apart, and dragged his fingertips across the bare skin, leaving you in goosebumps and soft moans. "Please," You panted. "I need you to do something." You pleaded with neediness. He just responded by pressing feather-light kisses to the outside of your mound, and you twitched once you felt him spread your folds apart. He started to swirl his finger around the sensitive bud, and you drew out a moan at his teasing.

"B-buck I'm begging you, for the love of God, please." You groaned, throwing your head back, there was a line of sweat that formed around your hairline. He spared you by finally leaning forward to give a firm lick from your entrance to your clit. Your mind started reeling with gratification, your back arched and he held down your already trembling thighs. "Hun, I have barely started." He chuckled with a smug grin on his face. He delved back into your slick core and went to work. His tongue was lapping up and down in a sinful pattern, and he was quick to latch his lips on your clit, the wet sounds so obscene, it made your body heat ignite more. You carded your fingers through his hair and tugged on the ends, causing him to groan into your cunt, making you moan even louder at the vibrations shooting to your spine. "Oh my god," You panted. "I think I'm going to cum soon." Your voice increasing octaves at each devilish lap of his tongue. The tightness in your abdomen heightened, and your inconsistent babbling, made him start to suckle more, and he went faster with his movements. Your grip on his hair tightened, and once he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue, forcing you over the edge.

He fervently licked you through your orgasm, and you flooded all over his lips, and he licked it all up. Once you felt your body reside from the euphoria, he gave a final kiss to your thigh, and he peeked back up at you, your slick coating his lips, and they were plumper from the overwork. He looked fucking god-sent, in the most corrupt way. He kissed you ardently, and you tasted the salty, sweetness of you on his lips. He groaned as you palmed his hard cock through the rough denim.

"I believe it's your turn now." You purred, pulling him up to sit on the edge of the bed, and you slowly sank to your knees, rubbing his thighs. You felt his straining, almost painful, erection, and your fingers nimble with the button. He helped you in a diligent attempt to free himself from the cloth confinement. He got his jeans to his ankles, and you took them off completely, and he shed his shirt. His cock sprang free from his boxers, and you eyed his red, bulbous tip, and you leaned forward to give it a kitten lick, and he sucked in a harsh breath through gritted teeth. "Christ," He swears as you swirled your tongue around the slit, collecting his precum. He groaned once you wrapped your lips around entirely and started to sink him down your throat.

"Shit, y/n. You're so good. Taking care of me so well." He grunted. You looked at him through thick, lashes, innocently staring at him. His eyes fluttered to look at you, and he thought he was going to bust right then. You were harshly sucking, and he had to gently grab your jaw to have you release him. "If you continue, I'm going to cum right the hell now." He gasped between breaths. You licked your lips, and he picked you up from your armpits and put you on your back.

He crawled up to you, and you reached behind you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside. He palmed your one breast and started swirling his tongue around the perky little buds, and you crooned. "I can't take this, please, fuck me, Bucky. Please, I need your cum." You wailed. Something switched in him, and he wanted to ferally fuck your brains out, but he had to contain himself because he wanted to show you how beautiful you were. He grasped your hips tightly. "Ride me darlin'. I wanna look at your beautiful body while you're riding my cock."

You wasted no time flipping yourself over, straddling his hips, and you took him in your hand, and slowly sank down on him. Bucky instantly groaned in pleasure. Your walls so wet and warm, engulfed his thickness and squeezed him tight. "God, you're always so tight. Should be a crime." He heard you giggle, which made you clench and moan at the stretch. He was so goddamn big, his tip nudged in the deepest part of you deliciously. You rocked your hips and started picking up the pace, bouncing on him.

He grabbed your tits and pushed them together, and ran his hands down your hips. Digging his fingers in, clearly giving bruises only for him to see. He looked up and down your torso, from your beautiful fucked-out face, to where you both were connected, and the sound of him fucking into your squelching heat made his brain short circuit. "You are so beautiful. I love this gorgeous body." He huffed. "Taking my cock so well, you were made for this." He praised. His words made you clench tighter, and you erupted in moans at the drag of him hitting your spot just right. He relished in the feeling of your fluttering walls, and he lifted his hips to thrust up into you harder, more rapidly.

The sounds of skin slapping grew, and so did your orgasms. Bucky was now hitting you deeper with his thick cock, and you felt like he was in your stomach. God, it was divine. You could tell you were close because you were vigourously grinding down harder on him. "Fuck, Bucky don't stop, I'm gonna come soon." He continued to fuck up into you. "Jesus Christ, I'm not gonna last either, come on darlin', cum all over my cock... Such a good girl." He heaved out in shallow thrusts. His words enough sent you tumbling. You squeezed and fluttered on him, coming all over his length. The air knocked out of your lungs as you came, you braced your hands on his firm chest. He moaned softly, and you leaned forward to his ear, suckling on his lobe. "Please fill me up, Buck. Make me yours." You gasped out in exhalation.

That was it for him. He stilled as the hot coil in his stomach burst, and he gutturally grunted as thick ropes of cum coated your walls. He respired. His body went slack as he puffed out, both of your hearts were palpitating from the excursion. Your legs trembled as you rolled off of him, landing on your back with a sharp huff. He looked over at you and grabbed your hand with his metal one, and gave sweet kisses to the top of yours. "I love you so much." He said once his heart rate and breathing were normal. You beamed in adoration, you caressed his face, brushing the stubble on his cheek. "I love you too." You replied. You brushed the pad of your thumb on his lips and leaned in for a brisk kiss. You both gave tender kisses before Bucky got up to get you a cloth to clean up with. He came back and helped wipe the sticky mess from your thighs, and he threw it in a laundry bin.

Once he got back to bed, you two curled up into each other, slightly sweaty from the rendezvous, but you two didn't care. He glanced at the floor where your new lingerie was, and he gave you a questioning look. "So, are you really happy with your gift? I feel like it wasn't much, and I could've-" You cut him off with a kiss to stop his rambling. "I love it, Buck, really. I do. It made me feel super sexy. I know you did this to cheer me up, and it worked." You winked. He exhaled in relief to your reassurance. "Good. That's all I wanted to do. I just wanted my girl to feel good as hell." He drawled, a hint of old Brooklyn coming out. You gave a shy smile, savoring the mushy moments of bliss with him.

"You wanna go shower now?" You schemed, already knowing his answer. He mock-thought about it, before pulling you to him to lift your body bridal style.

"I think you know the answer to that." He smirked and carried you to the bathroom. Just one more round of bliss.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female reader

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stuck-in-hawkins · 4 years

Text

October 28th, 1993- Reunion

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Pairing: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656785/chapters/60958708

Will felt completely exposed. He just stood there breathless, staring, with his heart pounding a mile a minute.

Mike stood up from the couch, with that big beautiful smile. Before Will could pick his jaw off the floor, Mike was over to him in a few strides and had wrapped his long arms around him in a hug. Will was trying to process it all, but thoughts, sensations, and memories were crashing like waves against the shore and he could barely keep up.

His senses taking in all the familiar and new with Mike. How there seemed to be a place that Will just instinctively locked into in the embrace. The secure pressure of his arms wrapped around, the scent of some new cologne or deodorant that combined with the familiar smell of Mike that he could never quite pinpoint. There was the feeling of being small in his arms, and an onslaught of memories that beckoned. Will knew he’d lose himself in them if he dwelled but there would be time for that later. It just felt so good to be held by Mike again.

“Hey, Will.”

Will’s mind commanded, ‘Say something!’ He needed to recover so that he didn’t look like some lovesick puppy. But he was still taking everything in. He had only seen Mike a handful of times since leaving for college. He wasn’t used to how wide his shoulders were or how soft he’d gotten. Since 7th grade, Mike had been a beanpole, tall, bony. But now, all his edges were softened. He even had a bit of a belly. Will’s arms wrapped around Mike and felt… hair? Mike had a ponytail.

“Hey, hippie.” He pulled back from the hug. There were curls in the front of his face that were still too short to reach but it was plain as day: he had a ponytail. Will chuckled, “Since when did you decide to do a ponytail?”

“Since the last time the barber hacked off my hair.”

Will laughed, “You mean that buzz cut? That was two years ago!”

“Yep.” He took the hair in hand and flopped it so that it rested on his shoulder. It was a little past his shoulder. “This stuff grows like weeds.”

“Well, I’m still betting you’ll be the first to go bald.”

Mike held his hands up. “Don’t curse me like that, Will.”

“Sorry, but only models can have hair this perfect without paying for it later.” He hadn’t meant to, but he touched Mike’s hair as he said it. This would have been fine if he had just played it off. But, when he realized where his hand was, he drew it back so hard he hit himself in the chest.

Will thought, ‘Oh dear, God. Could you be any more obvious, Will Byers?’

And there it was, beneath the familiarity and laughter of friends, all the intimacy that had come during that time. The memory of being someone else’s other half was still ingrained in his every motion. The pathways in his brain had been carved out with each touch and a wall had come down. It could only be held up with conscious effort.

The motion was not lost on Mike and there was a recognition that crossed his face. But Mike smiled. Was it sympathetic, guilty, or just awkward? Will couldn’t tell. He mentally scolded his cheeks, trying to forbid them from blushing. But he could feel the heat rising. He hated being such an open book.

Mike broke the silence, “You always work on Sundays? Busy life on the prop scene?”

Will felt instant relief. Work was a safe topic. “It has peaks and troughs. Right now, I’m working on a bit of a passion project, making a monster.”

“Wait! Holy shit, like for a movie? What one??”

“It’s not for a movie, per say. It’s more like a talent scouting thing.”

Dustin interjected, “He couldn’t tell us, even if it was for one.”

Mike turned, “So you don’t badger him for info, then. Right, Dustin?”

“Uhh. Do you even know me, Mike? Of course, I do! He’s got to crack at some point.”

Will watched the way Mike’s eyes crinkled with those familiar laugh lines. And without even trying, Mike had made Will fall for him all over again. A part of him wanted to fight it, to just be happy with being friends. He wanted to save himself from the hurt that would follow. But this love was a familiar and warm embrace. It woke him up from the pain of that morning’s rejection. It was hope.

Mike was here for the first time in years. He was within reach again. He was gorgeous and smiling. But why was he there? What brought him out to Burbank after so long?

“When did you get in?”

“I think my plane landed at… 3?”

Dustin added, “Yeah. About then.”

“Feeling any jet lag?”

“For that crazy three hour difference?” He laughed. “It’ll probably just feel like a long day. I’m hoping that I can power through until 10.”

“Sounds like a late night for you, old man.”

Mike smirked, playfully, “Listen, just because you are some cool Hollywood cat now,” he poked Will in the stomach. Today of all days, he was wearing his crop top. And the contact was direct, skin on skin, Mike’s fingertips in his stomach for the briefest of seconds. Will felt his heart leap inside him. Mike did a double take looking at his mid drift, which had clear muscle tone. “And apparently working out?” Mike was astounded.

Will flustered, waving his arms, “I’m not like a musclehead, or anything! It’s just a thing I do with my friends from work.”

Dustin leered, “Don’t listen to him, Mike. It’s ‘cause he’s single and trying to bring home a beefcake.”

Will’s head snapped to Dustin. He was getting redder by the minute, “What the fuck, Dustin? BEEFcake?”

“Listen, you can’t bring home gorgeous men and me not talk about it. Seriously, Mike, these guys are all 10’s.” He winked.

Will was staring daggers at him, “I am never making you breakfast again.”

“WAIT! No!” He stretched his arm out, “I’m sorry!! I take it back.”

“Too late. It’s Captain Crunch for you from now on.”

Dustin groaned, and flopped over the couch, defeated. Will’s eyes flicked over to Mike and saw him suddenly self-conscious.

Mike caught his gaze and said, somewhat sheepishly, “I can’t say I’m really surprised, though. You're a catch, Will.” There was a sadness in it. As if Will was out of reach. As if he had been the one that got away.

The sincerity of it left Will speechless. Was he misinterpreting it? He wanted to let him know that the door hadn’t closed, but he didn’t want to be wrong and make things awkward. He’d clear the air later, when Dustin wasn’t there to watch. He couldn’t look at Mike’s face now.

He tugged the longer side of his hair behind his ear. A useless and nervous gesture, as the hair went right back in his face. “It’s not- I’m not-” He stopped himself. Take the compliment, he told himself. “Umm… thanks.”

Will saw Dustin smirking. Was he trying to play cupid? Will was going to chew him out the second he was alone. This was not something to play with.

Will desperately wanted to change the subject, “So, how are we going to show him the best California has to offer?”

“How about Gauman’s?”

Will shrugged, “Sounds good. What do you think, Mike?”

“That’s the place the Oscar’s are filmed at, right?” Mike asked.

“The very same. But, when there’s no Oscars or premiers it’s just a regular theater,” said Dustin.

Mike nodded. “Sounds awesome.” Will smiled seeing the childlike excitement on Mike’s face, the kind he used to get before a much anticipated movie or comic release. Will felt flutters and wondered if he would be coming down off of cloud nine anytime soon.

“Cool,” Will said. “I’ll go get dressed.” He needed to sort out everything going on inside his head.

Mike looked down at his own clothes, “Do we need to dress fancy or something?”

“Well, not exactly. You’re fine. But cut offs aren’t exactly something I wanna wear there.” He gestured at his own clothes.

Mike’s eyes flicked down and immediately looked away, his face beat red. “Oh. Yeah, of course.”

Will blushed. Holy fuck. They were both absolute disasters right now. He walked down the hallway to his room and flopped on the bed. Breathe. Why had Mike gotten so flustered? Why had he looked down? He could feel his stomach flipping at the suggestion in the question.

He had to calm down. But everything inside him felt like an amusement park, spinning, and jumping. How in the hell was he supposed to keep himself together? He had to wait until Mike was alone. It would be better to get it all out, clear the air. But what in the hell was he even supposed to say?

‘Hi, Mike! Nice to see you, by the way, I’m still in love with you. Is this a mutual thing? Or should I have gotten over all this years ago?’

He put the pillow over his head and groaned. He could get through this. At the very least, they would be in a theater. It was a familiar space, where they could forget everything else and just be the Party again, picking apart movies. Unravelling cinematography, digging up meaning, and concocting theories and Will could collect himself. ______________________________

They bought tickets for Return of the Living Dead 3. It was one of those gritty B rated movies that the party had always loved tearing to shreds. After they gave Mike the unofficial tour around the handprints, they went inside and paid for their tickets. They were making their way past the various displays of movie props and costumes encased in glass when Will’s eye caught sight of something. He turned so fast he nearly got whiplash and made his way over to the case. Inside, there was a set up for Halloween: a town of monsters, each with unique and incredible designs. The setting looked like an ink drawing come to life, complete with the texture of hatching lines on the ground. This parade of characters was led by a charming skeleton in a Santa suit and a girl that looked like a cross between a rag doll and Frankenstein. He read the plaque beside it: The Nightmare Before Christmas.

“Don’t drool on the case, Will.” Dustin teased.

Mike came over, “What is it?”

“These are the stop motion puppets from the movie,” Will answered. He couldn’t take his eyes off the figures.

“Oh, Stop motion! Like the special effects for the older Hollywood films?” Mike asked.

“Or like Rudolph,” Dustin added.

Will stared, “It’s like a cross between the two. It’s completely embracing the horror aspect of the medium and combining it with the whole Christmas movie tradition.” He couldn’t get over the character designs, the idea behind it. The premise intrigued him and he desperately wanted to watch it.

“Should we see that one instead?” Mike suggested.

Will turned, “No! No. I’ll definitely have to come back to watch it though.”

Dustin leaned in, “We have to go see that movie with him, Mike. He’s gonna totally flip shit the whole time.”

Mike crossed his arms like he was studying Will, “You think like Labyrinth level freak out?”

“Hard to say,” Dustin retorted.

Will shook his head, “Nothing will be Labyrinth level freak out. That was a once in a lifetime movie. A high fantasy setting with elaborate backdrops and the most insane special effects featuring David Bowie as the Goblin King, himself.”

Dustin smirked, “Not to mention those pants.”

Will stood up, “Why does everyone always bring up the pants?”

“Because it was an enlightening experience. I finally understood what you see in men. And now I know with certainty that if Bowie were to ever ask I’d- OW!”

Will punched Dustin’s arm. “You’re not gonna finish that statement.”

Mike chimed in, “You know better than to speak blasphemy against The Thin White Duke around Will.”

Dustin played it up, soothing his wounded arm. “Aw, come on, Will. I didn’t mean it, I know you get first dibs.”

“How kind.”

They laughed as they went into the theatre together. _________________________________________________

It was a tradition of theirs that following a movie showing, they would stand around the lobby and dissect it. However, since the theatre was getting crowded, Will suggested they relocate to the nearby diner. They began picking it apart in the car, shouting over one another the most grotesque or ridiculous parts. Will had the edge in these conversations now, because he could usually determine what exactly they used for certain effects. The guys enjoyed hearing Will’s insight into the behind the scenes techniques. Once they got in the diner and got their seats, the conversation quieted a bit and their ruminations became more well thought out. They cited different camera angles, acting, and plot points. It felt like old times.

After they ordered their food, Will asked, “So, Mike, how long are you in town for?”

“I’m staying for the week.”

Will almost dropped the fork he’d been messing with, “The whole week?!”

“Yeah, I have some vacation time that the boss told me I needed to use before December.”

“You didn’t want to save that for Christmas vacation?”

“Nah. A lot of families take that time off. School, you know?”

“That’s cool of you.”

Mike shrugged, “It’s just the decent thing, you know? El doesn’t really care about the holidays too much so I can be flexible.”

And a cloud swept over Mike’s face. Something he hadn’t wanted to bring up. Someone he didn’t want to mention. And Will could see him brace for the question.

Dustin asked, “How-?” He felt clumsy. “How is she doing?”

“She’s okay. She has her good days and her bad. I told you she lives with me now, right?”

Dustin nodded.

“That day I got my hair buzzed? Bad day.” He laughed it off, “I don’t think she recognized me for two weeks. The worst part? I actually bought a wig.”

Dustin nearly spit out his drink, “You what?”

Will laughed. “You didn’t!”

“Oh yeah. My first toupee. Looked like a fucking mop.”

Will joked, “Oh, please tell me you still have it. I’d pay money to see that.”

“No way. It’s haunting some thrift store now.”

Will shivered. “The worst thing to find there.”

Mike chuckled. He asked, “So, when is Lucas getting here?”

Will perked up, “What??”

Dustin suddenly looked awkward.

Mike turned, “Shit. Was that supposed to be a surprise? I thought he already knew.”

“No, it’s okay. Recover it! Surprise, Will!! Lucas will be here tomorrow!”

The smile on Will’s face could have lit up the city. He couldn’t contain his joy. His friends would be back together for the first time in so long. He didn’t see the way Mike was looking at him, the content smile and the eyes that just couldn’t get enough of Will’s warm glow.

Dustin was beaming, “Max will be picking him up and they’ll be staying at a hotel nearby.”

Will couldn’t believe it. “Dustin, did you put this all together?”

His friend got a little bashful and tried to shrug it off. “I mean… I just made a few calls. Lucas told me he’d be home in time for Halloween and I thought it was the perfect opportunity for a reunion.”

And then, something sank inside Will. Halloween. It had been ten years... Was that why Dustin was doing this? He coached himself, ‘Stop. Stop. Stop. Just enjoy this.’

He smiled. “It’ll be so good to see them again.”

The change wasn’t immediately visible to the guys.

Mike suddenly got excited, “Are we going to have a Halloween party or something to celebrate?”

Dustin answered giddy, “Oh, hell yeah! I mean we have the monster maker himself here!” He clapped Will on the back.

It shook Will out of his head. He saw how excited they were. Maybe this whole thing was orchestrated out of concern for Will, the thought of it stung his pride a bit. But then again, maybe it was the only way to get everyone together. The last time they had all been together had been when Hopper found El… She had been broken, disoriented, and wandering around New York City. The reunion had been one of grieving, trying to heal, and being there for Mike.

That was what going their separate ways had meant- only seeing each other for the big things: weddings and funerals so to speak. So, Will watched Mike and Dustin talking animatedly and let himself get caught up in it, too.

“As much as I’d like to bring the studio stuff home, I don’t think I could get it past Anderson. They get extra uptight at the shop with props and stuff around Halloween. Everyone wants to borrow stuff for their own parties. But I might be able to whip up something homemade.”

Dustin bragged to Mike, “It’s too bad you won’t get to see The Werehouse, Mike. It’s like a cinephile's wet dream. They have a full on werewolf! Fur and everything!”

Will asked, “Why wouldn’t he be able to go?”

“Because visitors are banned.”

“No, you are banned.”

“What do you mean, ‘I’m banned’???”

“You were touching literally everything!”

“And that was enough to get me banned?”

“You gave Scottie such agita, I thought she was going to have an aneurysm. Do you not remember her following you around, asking you to put things down?”

Dustin grimaced, “I got a little caught up. It was a lot to take in.”

Mike asked, “So, does this mean I get to go?”

The idea of showing Mike his work space was elating to Will. There was that familiar feeling that Will had everytime he handed Mike his sketchbook or a new drawing. The hope of approval and praise for his art.

Will eagerly nodded, “Just don’t touch anything.”

Mike smirked at Dustin, who groaned, “That is SO not fair!”

“Sorry, Dustin.” Mike shrugged as he scooted out of the booth.

Dustin pouted, “Are you, though?”

“Well, not really that sorry.” He laughed, “I’ll be right back.” Mike excused himself to the bathroom.

Once he was out of earshot, Will looked over at Dustin.

He didn’t want to ruin the moment but he had to ask. “Is there a particular reason you got us all together?��

“Because Lucas is coming home.”

“He was home a year ago. We didn’t get together then.”

Dustin’s shoulders sank and he started fidgeting with his napkin. “You said it yourself. It’s been too long. It was an excuse for us to get together. And… well, it has been 10 years...”

“You say it like it’s some kind of anniversary.”

“I mean, it kind of is. You making it out of all that alive is something to celebrate.” Dustin said it genuinely, his heart in his words, “We watched what we thought was you, pulled from the quarry. We listened to you calling out for help. It affected all of us, Will.”

Will suddenly felt selfish. He’d seen this whole thing as some kind of elaborate pity party, but he hadn’t been the only one to suffer. He hadn’t been the only one to face that thing.

But a question still nagged at him, “Did you tell anyone… about the nightmares?”

Dustin tightened and looked guilty. “Just Mike… he….”

“Dustin you promised!”

“I know. I know. But I was worried, Will! I didn’t know what to do.”

“There is nothing for you to do. It’s something that I’m handling.”

His friend looked at him, anger tempered in his brow, “They’ve gotten worse. Don’t tell me they haven’t.”

Will’s fingers dug into his knees, his knuckles turning white. He felt humiliated. It was true. They had been getting worse. It wasn’t so bad when he had someone sleeping next to him, but on the nights he was alone? There was a 50/50 shot at waking up in a cold sweat. A few weeks ago, he had woken up with a yell in his throat and Dustin’s panicked face above him, trying to shake him awake.

‘Please… don’t tell anyone, Dustin. Please…”

But of course he did.

“Will, you don’t say when things aren’t okay. You shoulder them until something breaks. So, I made a judgement call. I didn’t want you to go through it this year alone. I wanted you to know that you have us. That we’re here.”

Will put his head in his hands, “But why did you have to tell Mike?”

“Because I didn’t know how to help. And it’s damn near impossible to get him out of Hawkins these days. But he’ll do it for you.”

His insides did a somersault. “That’s another thing, Dustin.”

“What?”

“Please, stop playing cupid with me and Mike.”

He was quiet, mumbling, “I wasn’t trying to before, at the house. I was just messing around.”

“I know but the jokes were hitting a little too close. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t want to dig up. It’s complicated between us and we need to figure that out ourselves.”

Dustin looked like a puppy getting scolded, “I gotcha. Sorry.”

Will added, “And, I swear to God if I ever hear the word ‘beefcake’ from out of your mouth, I am mailing your nudie mags to your mom.”

His eyes got wide, “You wouldn’t!”

Will rested his chin on his hands, “You really want to gamble on that?”

He held up his hands, “Fine. It is stricken from my vocabulary forever.”

Mike was making his way back over and Will tried to tuck everything back inside. Mike slid back into the booth. He pulled a small notepad from his back pocket and put it on the table.

“Okay. So what are we doing for costumes?”

And Will laughed. All of a sudden, the years melted away. He remembered how Mike would spend the remaining days of summer planning out their Halloween costumes, their trick or treat routes. The jubilant energy of new ideas spreading across his face, the excitement in his voice. It all came back. This time was precious. Their lives would undoubtedly fall back into their pattern before long. Lucas and Max would likely move back by her job in Silicon Valley. Mike would go back to Hawkins. Back to El. So, Will needed to hold onto every moment and make them last.

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fullmetalscullyy · 5 years

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your fanfic,, the good shit. if you're still doing prompts, can i ask you to consider one where roy's dogsitting and starts talking to hayate about how much he loves riza and how he wants to marry her. idiot doesn't know that she's just conveniently come home and is short circuiting in the corner

you’re too kind anon;;; imma start crying in the club 💖 tysm and i hope u enjoy!!!!

rated: t | words: 1312

“Here, boy,” Roy commanded to his charge, slapping his thigh. Hayate followed him into Riza’s living room, out of the kitchen. Roy sat on her couch and Hayate sat obediently by his feet. Roy cocked his head and looked at the pup, causing Hayate to copy him. After a moment’s deliberation, Roy patted his lap and motioned for the dog to jump up. Hayate shifted in place and whined, obviously unsure. “I won’t tell if you won’t, boy,” Roy whispered conspiratorially with a grin, bending forward to lift Hayate onto his lap.

Riza was adamant he wasn’t allowed up on the furniture, but technically this wasn’t the furniture. It was Roy’s lap and he wanted the comfort from the pup. Plus, Roy knew for a fact that Hayate was allowed up on the furniture, because Roy had seen him up on Riza’s couch countless times before when she was home. Perhaps she just didn’t trust him not to let Hayate run riot in her house while she wasn’t home… The cheek!

Hayate made himself comfortable and settled on Roy’s lap, his head resting on Roy’s knees. Sighing happily, Roy sat back in place and ran his hands over Hayate’s fur. He loved this little dog as if it was his own. In a way, he snickered to himself, he was Roy’s dog. No one could know about it right now, of course, but he and Riza had been together forever and that hadn’t changed since the Promised Day happened. They’d grown closer – in every way possible – and the thought made Roy grin.

“How are you doing, boy?” Roy asked, bending forward to look at Hayate’s face. He let out a sigh and Roy laughed in response, rubbing his head vigorously. “Yeah, I miss her too.” He’d only been dog sitting for two hours but he still missed Riza. Ever since they’d hooked up – discreetly, of course – every moment apart was agony. Riza had rolled her eyes at his dramatic claim, making Roy grin. He’d smile, because claims like that always drew a smile out of her too, and it was a wonderful sight.

But he still moped and pouted when she had to go somewhere without him.

Maybe he was just whipped. Roy chuckled. He was definitely whipped. He missed his girlfriend, so sue him. Well, his girlfriend, who wasn’t really supposed to be his girlfriend, but they’d both said fuck it and done it anyway. Roy snickered again at the pun.

Roy’s eyes roamed around Riza’s apartment and noted the photos she had placed on her coffee table. There were photos of them both, professional and personal. There was the team. Rebecca was in there too. Then there was the photo Winry had sent each of them of her new family. Roy’s smile turned into a grin after seeing that one. He hadn’t got around to finding a frame for his yet, so it was pressed in a book in his bookcase to keep it tidy and clean. He was so proud of those kids. He would’ve never admitted it to Edward or Alphonse, but they did feel like sons to him. Riza felt the same way. She was the only person who was aware of just how much Roy cared for them, and vice versa.

He grinned again. Despite all they’d been through, he was happy Riza was still there with him. It felt wonderful to share his life with her, even when they weren’t together. He hadn’t exactly told Riza how much she meant to him yet, but something told Roy she already knew. Still, it was different to hear it in person. Perhaps he should do it soon…

“Y’know,” Roy began, using both hands to pet Hayate’s fur. “I really do love Riza, Hayate,” he told his canine companion. “I’m so happy she hasn’t kicked me out on my ass yet,” he chuckled. “God knows I deserve it after all the headaches I’ve caused her,” he grinned. “But no, she truly is a gem and I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.” Roy leaned forward again, watching as Hayate’s eyes looked up at him. “What would you say to me marrying her?” he mused aloud. Roy had spotted the joke gift he’d given her one Christmas. It was a sign that said, “all visitors must be approved by the dog before entering”, and it hung up on her wall. It looked tacky as hell, Roy had to admit, but it was a joke and he hadn’t expected her to hang it up, of all things. “Hm?” he prompted the dog.

Hayate sighed but his tail began to wag, the fur brushing over Roy’s stomach. That had to be a good sign, right?

Raising an eyebrow, Roy stared down at the dog. “A yes or a no would be great, buddy,” he joked. Hayate let out a quiet yip, lifting his head to lick Roy’s cheek. A grin broke out over his face. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he replied proudly. Sitting back, Roy beamed. “I’ll ask her to marry me then. I just need to find the perfect time –”

“Married?” a startled voice cried out in disbelief.

Roy froze. The hands petting the dog stopped and Hayate looked behind him, whining for Roy to continue. Obviously seeing Riza drew his attention away, and Hayate hopped down off the couch and padded over to his stunned master.

Standing in a flash, he whipped around, panicking slightly. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! “Uh…” Roy stated eloquently.

“Married?” Riza stuttered again. Roy blinked at her, the panic within him dying down when he noticed the state she was in. Her mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish in her surprise. Her eyes were wide and, he hated to say it, slightly crazed.

“Uh… surprise?” he grinned sheepishly.

That seemed to throw her over the edge because her eyes almost bugged out of her head. Roy felt a laugh bubbling inside of him. He’d never seen her so surprised before. It seemed like her brain was short-circuiting, unable to restart and function again after hearing that titbit of information. The laugh left him, and that caused Riza to frown. Then glare.

“I’m sorry,” Roy replied through his giggle. He approached her hurriedly, gripping her biceps gently in his hands as he gazed into her eyes. “I didn’t even realise you were home.” She wasn’t supposed to be back for another hour, that’s the only reason he was talking to Hayate about marrying her. Whoops.

“Married?” she stated again, disbelieving.

Roy nodded, his sheepish grin returning. “Not the most conventional way to ask – and not the way I planned to ask at all – but it’s out there now. So… What do you say?” he asked expectantly.

“Married.”

Roy felt his laughter bubbling back up again. That seemed to be the only word she could say. Her, Riza Hawkeye, his Captain, reduced to one word and completely speechless outside of that. It was entertaining, and Roy was glad he’d been the one to do it. This was unprecedented. He never thought this could be done! Gleefully, he was taking great pleasure in bringing her to this state, so shocked she couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“Yes. Riza Hawkeye, will you marry me?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Married…”

Roy rolled his eyes fondly at her, drawing Riza into his embrace.

“Married,” he confirmed, apparently finally speaking her language.

There was a long pause before she replied, and it had begun to set Roy on edge, but everything was right with the world when she finally replied.

“Yes,” she whispered, the grip on him tightening as she squeezed him, and her voice cracking in her joy. Roy grinned and returned the tight embrace, kissing her temple in response.

“Married,” he confirmed with the happiest smile on his face.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #writing prompts #ask #anon #emma writes #fic request

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writings-of-dumpy · 5 years

Text

Speechless

A/N: This is a blurb inspired by an amazing early Christmas gift that the amazing and talented @mindingmyownbusiness got for me, so this work is dedicated to her... even though it’s trash, WHOOPS SORRY I love you. PS I made it reader insert because I couldn’t think of a name so sorry about that

“So you’re coming today, right?” Scott confirmed with Stiles, who was skeptical.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Stiles said and closed his locker. Stiles hadn’t done much in the way of volunteering and he didn’t have pets growing up, so volunteering at the animal clinic for something to put on his resume seemed a bit out of his league. But Scott insisted that Stiles would be a welcome presence, so he went.

When they arrived, Stiles walked up to Scott’s bike and noticed Scott tilt his head to the side and huff out a small ‘huh’.

“What does that mean?” Stiles asked.

“Y/N is here. I thought she wasn’t going to be back for another week,” Scott said and opened the door.

Stiles raised a brow. “Who’s Y/N?”

“She’s the other assistant that works with me and her I don’t think she knows about Deaton’s other hobbies, so try to keep it under wraps,” Scott explained as the pair walked to the door. Stiles nodded and walked in nervously.

“Hi, Scott, Stiles!” Deaton greeted them. “I’m glad we have an extra pair of hands today, Stiles. With Thanksgiving coming up next week, everyone wants their dogs’ nails trimmed, so I’ll put you and Scott on that while Y/N and I handle vaccines.”

“Um, I’ve never done that,” Stiles spoke up nervously.

Scott smiled. “It’s easy, I’ll show you.”

As the dogs rolled in and Scott used the clippers for their nails and his alpha powers to calm them, Stiles became less nervous and more comfortable in the small back room treatment area. The next dog to come in was a rather large mastiff named Bullet, and Scott’s alpha powers did barely anything for him.

“Y/N, would you mind helping them with our friend Bullet?” Deaton asked the girl in blue scrubs. She smiled and nodded simply, then came over to help Stiles restrain the massive dog’s front feet.

“His side might be better,” Scott suggested.

“Medical terms,” Deaton reminded from his stance behind the microscope.

“Right… Lateral recumbency,” Scott said.

Stiles noticed Y/N smile at Scott and place her arms around Bullet’s chest and her forearm across his neck. She looked at Stiles and nodded her head for him to do the same. Once they were in position, they slowly lifted Bullet’s legs and slid him onto his side, where he was much more still so that Scott could clip the nails.

After Bullet was done, Y/N gave the dog a kiss on the head, and Bullet responded by licking her cheek.

“Hey, thanks,” Stiles said to her once Bullet was gone from the treatment area.

Y/N smiled up to her eyes and nodded, then went back to looking at her blood smear from another patient.

“Doesn’t say much, does she?” Stiles mumbled to Scott, who laughed.

“No, I think she’s only ever said a few words to me in the three years I’ve known her. She writes everything in the medical record and hands it to Deaton, so he doesn’t mind her being quiet,” Scott told him. Stiles looked at her, puzzled, and wondered why she never spoke.

When the animal clinic closed, Scott, Stiles and Y/N all took part in sweeping, mopping, and general clean up for the day. Stiles found himself staring at Y/N at times and Scott often bumped his arm and laughed at his friend.

When the two of them were putting dog food away, Y/N knocked on the doorframe. When Scott turned, she beckoned him over with a hand motion and Stiles followed as well. Y/N took them to Deaton’s druid cabinet and pointed to the mountain ash bottle. Scott’s eyes went wide as she did this and he looked at Deaton.

“You told her?” Scott asked in disbelief.

“No, she figured it out. How do you think I’ve been getting so many ashes? I certainly can’t burn all of those trees alone,” Deaton said. “I’ve tasked the three of you with getting me more tonight if you don’t mind.”

Stiles looked between Y/N and Deaton and then at Scott.

“Might be a little hard since I can’t even touch the stuff,” Scott scoffed and Y/N shook her head, then placed the nearly empty bottle in his hand. She raised her brows in a decisive manner at Scott and he let out a breath.

“Okay fine,” Scott said.

Stiles spoke up, “The full moon is tonight, shouldn’t Scott be staying inside and not burning trees?”

Deaton shook his head. “Scott has enough control of himself that I trust him to not kill the two of you. And mountain ash that is burned and bottled with an alpha is much more potent.”

“Alright.. where do we go?” Stiles asked.

“Y/N knows the way. Follow her,” Deaton said cryptically and left for the night. The three of them piled into Stiles’ car and Y/N drew him a map. Stiles smiled at her and felt compelled to get this girl to like him. He thought she was beautiful, but wished she would say more. He wanted to ask why she didn’t speak, but he figured on saving that for another time.

When they arrived at what seemed to be an abandoned road, Y/N motioned for Stiles to pull off into a small clearing just big enough for his car at the side of the road. The moon shined bright in Stiles’ car and the three of them exited. Y/N beckoned them to follow her and Stiles was slightly unnerved by the whole situation. After a few minutes of walking, he felt a hand on his upper arm that gently and comfortingly squeezed his bicep. He looked down to see Y/N smiled sweetly up at him and her hand attached to the feeling on his arm.

Stiles couldn’t help the heat that welled up on his cheeks and he smiled back down at her with a pat to her soft hand, “Thanks.”

Y/N led them a little bit farther into the woods until the trees began to look more uniformed and surrounded a pile of ashen ground. Off to the side of the black spot were a couple of bow saws, an axe, and a very large tarp. Y/N looked at them and picked up the axe and went to town on a smaller tree. Stiles looked at Scott and the two shrugged, then followed suit with the other tools.

“So, just out of curiosity… How many of these are we burning tonight?” Stiles asked after choosing a mid-size tree close to Y/N’s.

Y/N looked over at him and held up four fingers, then finished chopping down the tree. Stiles watched in awe as she dragged the tree over to the middle of the darkened ground.

When Scott and Stiles finished their trees, they copied her movements and placed the trees next to hers on the ground. Y/N handed a pack of matches to Scott and he examined them with furrowed brows.

“How do I light it? There’s no strike strip,” Scott said to her. She sighed and lifted Scott’s hands and pointed to his nails with raised and expectant brows.

Scott nodded and let his claws out once she had removed her hands from his striking distance. She then turned to Stiles and pointed to the tree next to the ones that they had cut down with a questioning look in her eye. Stiles nodded and walked over to the tree with her and they each took one side of the saw Stiles had.

Within a few minutes, Scott had successfully started the fire and Y/N took a break to give him a toothy grin and a thumbs up. Stiles admired her smile and cheerful demeanor. Despite her not having said a word to him, he was very much starting to like her.

Stiles and Y/N worked well together, and the tree was down and added to the bonfire quickly. Stiles looked at her and held his hand up for them to share a high-five and Y/N looked elated to give his hand a gentle tap with hers. Once the fire was completely burned out, the three of them gathered several bottles full of the powder and used the nearby tarp to cover the remaining ashes. They then gathered the bottles in a bag for Scott to keep until tomorrow.

Suddenly, the clouds gave way and rain poured down on them. Y/N let out a small squeak of displeasure and the three of them ran back to Stiles’ jeep and piled in the car. Scott shook his hair out and Y/N sat still in the car. Stiles turned the heat on to alleviate some of the harsh cold that the rain had made all of them feel and drove back to the animal clinic.

~*~

Stiles decided to volunteer more and more at the clinic with Scott. He was there every day for the rest of the week and even though Y/N hadn’t said a word to him, she did laugh at all of his jokes and the two got to know each other well. He even found out that they had a class together and cursed at himself for not noticing this sweet, kind, and compassionate girl before. Stiles decided that he liked her, and he liked her a lot. Stiles was determined to spend as much time with her as he could, so he went to work with Scott nearly every day.

During a slow time at the clinic, Stiles and Y/N were taking inventory. The room was quiet with them standing and working in comfortable silence, but the words burning behind Stiles’ lips became too much, and he spoke up.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” he said and looked at her with his whole body facing her.

She looked at him briefly with skepticism and curled her lips to the side before nodding slowly. Stiles found the face adorable and pushed down the urge to laugh and take her face in his hands.

“Why don’t you talk?” he asked her lowly. “I mean, you can, right?”

Y/N took a deep breath and began writing on a piece of paper. Once she was done, she handed it to Stiles. The swirly cursive was beautifully done, and Stiles read: ‘My voice is ugly.’

Astonished, Stiles gaped up at Y/N, who had since gone back to work filling out the forms. He found himself completely speechless and puzzled as to how she could think such a thing.

“Not a single part of you is ugly, Y/N. And even though I haven’t heard it, I’d bet a million dollars that your voice isn’t, either,” Stiles declared to her in a determined tone. He watched her stop working for a moment and bite her lip. He looked as she hid her face away from him, but he could see the redness on her cheeks and the smile that he had grown to love.

A few days later, Stiles couldn’t keep his mind off of Y/N and what she had said about herself. He wondered why she thought that and how long she had thought it. When he heard his phone ring he mentally prepared himself for another supernatural catastrophe, but he instead saw his dad’s name on the screen.

“What’s up, dad?” Stiles said and sat up.

“Hey, we’ve got a situation at the station and I want you to come down here to see if you can help. There’s a girl here who won’t say anything—her... well, just get here, okay?” Stiles heard his dad say, and before he even hung up, Stiles was in his car and ready to go.

When he arrived at the station, he saw a figure sitting in his father’s office.

“So what’s happened?” Stiles asked his dad.

“We found her walking to the station with this note, nearly hypothermic at this time of night and no jacket. She won’t speak—I think she’s traumatized, but she looks to be about your age, so I figured you might be able to help,” his dad said and handed Stiles an evidence bag with a note in the same curly handwriting that he attributed to Y/N: “My parents were attacked, I got away. Please help me.”

Stiles rushed into the office without a word and saw Y/N stand up and back away. He noticed that her shirt was blood-soaked and she had cuts and forming bruises littering her arms and head.

“Oh, Y/N,” Stiles said and rushed to bring her into a hug that she accepted. He held her close in his arms and gently sat her down.

“What happened, sweetheart?” Stiles asked her sweetly and kept a hand on her back.

Y/N looked up at him, panicked, and looked around the room.

“You know her, Stiles?” the sheriff asked.

“Yeah. She works with Scott and she’s got math with me,” Stiles said without taking his eyes off of Y/N. He looked at her panicked face and grabbed a pen and pad of paper from his father’s desk, then handed the tools to her with skeptical eyes from his father.

“Here, you don’t have to speak, but please let us know what happened,” Stiles said to her and she nodded, then wrote down a sentence and held it up to the sheriff.

“No, honey, you’re not in trouble. My deputies determined it to be an animal attack,” he said. “But until the detective’s report, we need to treat it like an open investigation, so do you think you can give me a statement about what happened?”

Y/N nodded and began to write through tears: “I don’t know exactly what happened. I was downstairs doing the dishes and I heard my mom scream, which startled me and I broke the glass in my hand, then ran upstairs. I have no idea where my dad was, but my mom was on the bed covered in blood. I ran over to help, but then I heard the closet door open. I have no idea who or what threw me down the stairs, but as soon as I woke up, I started to run here. I didn’t know what else to do. That’s all I can remember.”

Stiles rubbed her back as she handed he pad of paper to the sheriff. He looked at her with sympathy and then read her note, nodding a few times.

“Is it just you and your mom at home?” he asked. Y/N reached for the paper again after shaking her head.

After the conversation ended, Stiles found himself pulling her into his arms and holding her hands as they sat on the bench in the office. He noticed Y/N had stopped crying for the moment and goosebumps form on her arms.

“Are you cold?” Stiles asked her and she nodded.

Stiles huffed and then let go of her for only a moment to take his hoodie off. Once he did, he handed it to her and she looked utterly shocked.

“I know it’s got my name on the back, but it’ll help you warm up,” Stiles said to her with a smile. Y/N smiled gratefully and pulled on the maroon colored lacrosse sweatshirt.

“Thank you,” he heard come from her mouth in a quiet voice. Stile’s heart sang and he smiled widely at her.

“Someone owes me a million dollars,” he joked with her.

She cracked a small smile, and Stiles couldn’t believe how beautiful her voice was. He had thought about how her voice might sound extensively, but he wasn’t quite right. At this point, though, it didn’t matter. What mattered to Stiles was that Y/N felt safe.

“Okay, I just got word that your mom is staying overnight in the hospital and you can visit her in the ICU tomorrow. No luck with your dad yet, I’m sorry to say,” Stiles’ dad said as he entered the room.

Stiles bit his lip as Y/N looked up and nodded her head with a smile to thank him. He then suggested, “You can stay with us if you want? Just for tonight, or longer if you need…”

The sheriff nodded. “Yeah. Any friend of Stiles’ is welcome.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide and she held her hands up and shook her head. Stiles took her hands in his and looked at her.

“I insist. Please stay with me,” Stiles said in a pleading tone.

Y/N bit her lip, then looked at Stiles and nodded with a ceding smile. Stiles smiled widely and led her out to his jeep with their hands still holding tight to each other. When they reached Stiles’ house, he looked over at Y/N. She seemed to be totally lost in thought and stiles smiled at how much he loved seeing her in his sweatshirt. He reached over and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, we’re here,” he said to her quietly and gently. She smiled slightly and nodded once she was pulled from the far reaches of her mind, then got out of his car. Butterflies rapidly multiplying in his stomach, they walked into his house and Stiles showed her where everything was and started to get a few clothing options ready for her. She looked around his room with an unreadable expression on her face and then her eyes fell on Stiles, who had placed three piles of clothes out for her to wear to bed.

“I, um… figured you’d want to get out of those. I can put them in the wash for you, I’ve gotten pretty good at… getting dried blood out of clothes,” Stiles offered with a shy smile. Y/N nodded and smiled slightly, then pointed to the bathroom door.

“Oh! Um, yeah, go ahead. You can shower too if you want, there’s plenty of soap and.. yeah,” Stiles rambled. Y/N gently picked up a pile from Stiles’ bed and smiled at him as she went into the bathroom. He put the other two piles to the side and then collapsed onto his bed with a heavy sigh.

He became lost in thought as he heard the shower run and hoped that Y/N was feeling alright. He knew that she had just gone through something terrible and frightening, but he was grateful that she was okay, and that he could keep her safe at least for tonight. He had a hunch that her father’s disappearance was somehow linked to the supernatural, but he decided to save that for a later date. For now, he remembered her voice—the two simple words she had spoken barely above a whisper echoed in his mind like voices in a cave. He felt an overwhelming sense of pride that she had trusted him enough to let him hear her voice and he couldn’t help but smile at his accomplishment. The butterflies in his stomach returned just as she emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of his sweatpants and the grey shirt he had provided with them.

“Do you feel any better?” he asked her softly, trying to focus his attention on anything other than how much he loved seeing her in his clothes.

She nodded and sent him a smile that he learned to place as her ‘thank you.’ Stiles nodded back and decided to start setting up his bed for her and placing himself in his reclining chair.

“You can take my bed, and I’ll be right here,” he said and began to spread a blanket over the chair. Before he could, though, he felt her gentle hands on his arm and she pulled him towards her. His face heated up and he looked into her eyes; found fear and the need for security resided in her gaze, and Stiles decided that he would be the one to calm her.

They sat on the bed together and Stiles looked at her with an awe he hadn’t felt before. He led the pair beneath his comforter, shut off the bedside lamp, and they laid there quietly for a moment, not touching each other, until Stiles heard the quiet whimpers that Y/N emitted.

“Oh, darling… shh, it’s alright,” Stiles soothed. Without thinking but acting on instinct, he pulled her into his chest and rubbed her back gently. He placed a kiss to the top of her head as she cried against him. After a moment, he felt her pull away from him slightly and he could see through his moonlit room that her eyes were on him. He made out the soft features of her face and traced a finger along her cheek to move a damp piece of hair out of the way. She wasn’t crying nearly as hard, but she was trembling and whimpering enough for Stiles to act.

He held her face in his hands and gently leant in to plant a meaningful kiss onto her plump and soft lips. He felt her surprise and pulled away from her with a panicked look.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I just… Oh god, I just wanted you to calm down and not be sad, I wasn’t—” Stiles began his spastic ramble, but he felt Y/N hold a finger to his lips.

“I like you,” he heard her voice in the dim light. Stiles’ heart soared at her words and he pulled her closer.

“I like you too,” Stiles said and let his forehead rest against hers. “And that includes your voice.”

Y/N shook her head playfully and gave his nose a short peck. He smiled and turned on his back with her in his arms still. Y/N rested her head against his chest and Stiles ran his fingers through her damp locks.

“You know, I like you wearing my clothes…” Stiles mentioned to her and he felt her head lean up to look at him. He smiled down at her, “Keep the hoodie, would you? Want everyone to know you’re mine now.”

#stiles x reader

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