#fic: cherry bomb! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

redahlia-writes · 2 years

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cherry bomb. | steve harrington

Abstract: “I’ve been spending too much time with Robin, probably. I get nervous and I just start talking, and I don’t really think about what I’m saying beforehand.”

You chuckled, shifting closer yet, and brought your other hand to his face as well, cupping his cheeks to make him turn his head slightly in your direction - his eyes moved over your face, from one side to the other, lips and then eyes.

“Do I make you nervous, Harrington?” you asked amused, a grin on your lips as your voice lowered. His breath caught in his throat, the tip of his tongue darting between his lips - you looked down at his mouth then, head slightly tilted, and he was suddenly aware of how close the two of you actually were.

“No,” he breathed out - then, because your smirk grew, he sighed. “A little,” he admitted, voice softer, hand inching up towards your knee.

Words: 8.9K (this wasn’t supposed to be this long, apologies)

Warnings: (f!reader, r has tattoos); minors dni. swearing, mentions of alcohol, usage of light drugs, teasing, flirting, pet names, smut, the smallest hint of praise kink, the smallest hint of sub steve too (blink and you’ll miss it), fingering, dry humping, hickeys, like a lot of hickeys and other lovebites, protected sex (wrap it up people), some fluff unedited

Author’s note: based mostly on the song cherry bomb by the runaways, but also some other bits of the album - if i missed some warnings please do tell me

also on AO3 - masterlist

It was easy to stand out in a town like Hawkins - the smallest hint of being different would immediately bring people to look at the person with sneers of diffidence and a scoff on their lips.

That was particularly true in your case: the girl who’d turned her back on her family, who’d left school just as she was about to finish it, who lived at the edge of the woods in a place that seemed to be held together by duct tape and hope.

The Cherry Bomb of Hawkins, a nickname born when you were still in highschool that had stuck so profoundly some people didn’t even know your actual name anymore - it was just Cherry.

That’s how Steve Harrington knew you - the name that popped in his head when you walked in front of the café he and Robin ended up working at after Family Video sacked them.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Robin commented as she wiped the counter, and the bell at the door chimed as you walked in, lowering your shades a little on your nose.

“I thought she’d left Hawkins,” he murmured, lowering his voice as you reached the counter, glancing up at the scribbled board. “Wasn’t that the whole reason she quit school?” “Dude, quiet,” Robin admonished, then moved at the counter. “Hi, what can I get you?”

“Robin, you work here?” there was a tiredness in your voice, and when you took your sunglasses off, dark circles surrounded your eyes. “What happened to Family Video?” “Ah, we got fired,” she shrugged, leaning in a little bit. Your eyes flickered towards Steve, and he felt his grip on the rag he was holding slip a little bit as you met his gaze with a quick grin. “Long story.”

“You come as a package now?” you asked with a chuckle, and Robin shrugged lightly, giving it no importance. “I need the strongest coffee you can make - and the cheapest,” you said then, leaning with your forearms against the counter.

“Long night?” Robin asked, glancing in Steve’s direction pitifully - he was in charge of making the coffees after that time Robin accidentally burned herself and still carried the scar on the palm of her hand.

“Long shift,” you groaned, following him with your eyes. “I should’ve done like you - a café during the day sounds much nicer than that shitty pub at night,” you said then, tipping your head slightly back.

“You’re still working there?” Steve looked over his shoulder at Robin, the familiarity in her words, the surprise. He was aware they hadn’t been friends for long, but since when was Robin Buckley friends with you? “Hadn’t you applied for other jobs?” she continued, a little worriedly.

“After the mall fiasco everyone started looking for another job,” you shrugged, lifting your gaze towards Steve - he quickly brought his attention back to your coffee, missing the light, amused frown that crossed your face. “Should a spot open here, I’ll let you know,” Robin reassured, a smile in her words.

Steve didn’t see the grateful nod you gave Robin, a tired smile still on your lips, finishing up your coffee - he stepped behind Robin to place it on the counter in front of you, moving the sugar closer before stepping out of the way.

“Thanks,” you pulled the cup towards you with your eyebrows slightly arched, and he nodded only in reply. “Hey, Harrington, cat got your tongue?”

He froze - Steve froze, turning his head to look at you with his eyes widening a little, as if surprised you were even addressing him in the first place. He couldn’t remember one single instance the two of you had spoken, too different in status when in high-school - he just remembered the voices that circulated about you, things he’d heard without caring about it.

“I - no. Sorry, no,” he cleared his throat, and watched you stifle a laugh, eyes glimmering in amusement as he frowned. “You work at a pub, huh? Which one?”

At his side, Robin snorted, moving from the counter as she shook her head - Steve wanted to grab her by the collar of her shirt and keep her there, just so he didn’t have to be alone in that situation. But his hands remained glued to his sides, fidgeting slightly with the rag hanging from his pocket.

“There’s only one pub in Hawkins, you can’t miss it - The Hideout,” you said with a quick smirk, picking up the coffee. “And it stays open only because we’re paid a misery - so if you’re thinking of moving business, always keep a job on the side,” you warned, pointing a finger in his direction.

You were not what he expected - which, really, shouldn’t have surprised him, not with the way the town treated those who didn’t fit in. He glanced in Robin’s direction quickly.

“You got one?” he cleared his throat again, suddenly dry, and you nodded. “What is it?” “You’re a big boy, Harrington,” you hummed from over the rim of the cup, “you can figure it out by yourself, can’t you?”

He was grateful for Robin calling your name - your actual name - or else the next, surely embarrassing, words would’ve sputtered out of him, out of his control, his neck warming up at the slight drawl in your voice and tilt of your head, eyes never leaving him.

“Coffee’s on the house,” Robin called, a glance in Steve’s direction almost as a warning. “But don’t tell anyone or else we’ll surely get fired.”

“Like I have anybody to tell it to,” you grinned, lifting the cup back up to your lips to finish the drink - a dark red halo stained the rim when you placed it back down, tip of the tongue darting out to catch the droplets on your top lip. “Thanks, Robs - Harrington. See you.”

He managed to put his hand up and wave only when the door had already closed behind you, bell chiming in its wake. At the other end of the counter, Robin burst out laughing, one hand on her chest as she leaned back.

“You should see your face - oh, I’d pay to get a picture of it right now,” she exclaimed, clearly enjoying Steve’s lost expression. “She’s gonna crush your heart, Steve,” Robin warned, laughter still clinging to her voice. Then, she held her hand up. “No, not just crush it. She'll rip it out of your chest, throw it on the ground, stomp on it, then get in her car and run it over. Twice.”

“Jesus, Robin,” he found his voice again with a scoff, picking up the cup left behind. “It’s not like that - I was just surprised, is all.” “Yeah, sure,” Robin snorted.

“I didn’t know you had other friends,” he mocked, but Robin’s mood was too good to be impacted by his remark. “Especially not her. When did you two even become friends?” “Around the time you were King of Hawkins,” she announced after a moment of pondering. “Just - forget about it. I’m saying this for your sake.”

Steve didn’t think it was like that. He genuinely thought he’d just been surprised - but had you always looked like that? Had your voice always been so soft, so alluring? Had your laugh always been this contagious?

––––––––––

“This place always looks like a shithole,” Eddie mumbled, eyebrows arched as he looked around the pub. “Why are we here again, Harrington?”

“Steve’s got a crush,” Robin chimed in before he could reply, and grinned in response to his glare. At that, Eddie perched up on his seat, suddenly more interested. “Yeah, yeah - it’s not like that,” she mocked, and shot a knowing glance in Eddie’s direction. “She comes to the café almost every morning - he’s been pining for like a month.”

“Well, you only had to say that,” he clapped his hands lightly, then rubbed them together as he leaned forward, eyes scanning the crowd more attentively. “Who do we need to woo?”

“No one,” Steve warned, pointing a finger first in Robin’s direction, then Eddie’s. “No. We’re here just to see what the place’s like.” “It’s shit, Harrington,” Eddie pointed out, tilting his head a little. “I play with the band here - I could’ve easily told you that.”

“Wait, you do?” Steve frowned, and Eddie scoffed at him, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Yes - and, frankly, I’m a little offended you’d come here for a girl but not to see me play,” he tipped his chin up with a little hmph noise which lasted just a few seconds before his mouth split in a grin, his arms opening as he leaned back in his chair.

Steve barely had the time to turn before you reached the table, almost throwing yourself on Eddie, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he pulled you onto him with a loud cackle, rubbing your back quickly.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t come here unless it was to play, Munson,” your voice was a little hoarse, a little louder than when at the café, and you pulled back from the curve of Eddie’s neck to look at him, hands reaching up to cup his face. “You’re a liar.”

“I’ve been brought here against my will, Cherry,” he said, a little bit theatrical.

Only then did you turn around on his lap, taking in both Steve and Robin - your eyebrows arched upwards, lips parting in surprise. A little smile made its way over your face, and letting go of Eddie’s face you leaned with your elbows on the table.

“This is a nice surprise,” you hummed, looking at Robin first, then letting your gaze linger on Steve, head slightly tilted. “Didn’t expect this to be your scene, Harrington.”

Steve’s gaze fell to Eddie’s arm wrapped around your waist, clearing his throat a little before flicking it back towards your face - at the look on his face, Eddie did his best to not burst out laughing, meeting Robin’s told-you-so gaze from across the table.

“Yeah, I figured -” he shrugged, muttering something that went lost in the cacophony of the place. You chuckled, hand coming down to rest on the table, mere inches from his as you leaned further forward.

“And here I thought I’d done a good job in saying how much of a dump this place is,” you sighed, then pulled quickly back - much to Steve’s dismay. You tapped Eddie’s arm still wrapped around you, and he let go of you immediately. How often had that happened, Steve wondered, then shook the thought away. “Gotta get back to work, if you need anything just yell,” you announced and got up - then turned around and planted a kiss on Eddie’s cheek, leaving a smudged lipstick stain on his skin before strolling away.

Eddie leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he looked at Steve’s expression carefully, doing his best to hold back a laugh. Robin too was looking at him, his gaze trained after you.

“So, you know her too, huh?” Steve hummed, and forced his eyes back towards Eddie - only to find him staring at him already, grinning like a madman. “What?” he wondered, taken aback - only then did Eddie start laughing, long and loud, head thrown back as he struggled to breathe properly.

“Oh, you’re so screwed,” he hiccupped, breath short. “She’s going to eat you alive, you do know that, right?”

“You’re both so dramatic,” Steve huffed, rolling his eyes. “And it’s not like that,” he added quickly. Robin and Eddie looked at each other again, a knowing look in their eyes. “You seem friendly enough, anyway. Both of you, actually.”

“Yes, friendly,” Robin pointed out, her hand landing on Steve’s arm. “She’s a great friend, but you’re too much of a hopeless romantic,” she said it gently, but Steve scoffed again, glancing towards the counter where you were placing drinks in front of a group of clearly already drunk men.

“Robin, I swear -” he sighed, head thrown back in exasperation. “What about you - that was particularly friendly,” he said then, gesturing towards Eddie, who’d just regained his breath.

“Why do you think I’m telling you this?” he said it with a glint in his eyes. “She helped us with our first gig here - had the biggest crush on her,” he admitted, a little bashful. “She ended up stealing half of my clients because, honestly, I would rather buy from her than me, too. We stayed friends, though - help each other out,” he glanced around the pub with a slight grimace. “You need to, in a place like this.”

––––––––––

Always keep a job on the side.

It shouldn’t have surprised Steve - when you gained a certain reputation in Hawkins, you either did everything in your power to destroy it (like he’d done) or you embraced it fully (like it seemed you’d done).

Your house - if it could be called a house the four walls, one door and patchy garden in front of it - was the only thing in sight for miles, behind only forest, before only road. It was similar to Hopper’s cabin, where he’d hidden Eleven for a year.

Had you been trying to hide yourself away?

His knocking was hesitant, and half-way through the second hit he almost considered turning back around and walking away, but by the time he’d brought his hand back the door was already opening, you on the other side wearing pajamas bottoms and a cropped tank top, a baton in hand and your head tilted.

“Harrington,” despite the usual, slightly teasing note that his name held, you sounded surprised, glancing past his shoulder and back at him. “This is unexpected. You lost?” “No, I came to see you,” he admitted, and a quick grin made its way across your face as he lifted the six-pack of beer he had in his hand. “I come bearing gifts,” he added, a little smile on his lips.

“You could’ve started with that,” you said, moving aside and placing the baton down. Steve stepped in, and you lifted your leg in front of him. “Shoes off,” you ordered, taking the beers from his hand. Observing him with your head slightly tilted as he followed your instructions, you let the door close behind him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Uh, I was wondering if you could help me,” he responded, straightening up and glancing at the baton. “Do you have to use that often?” he couldn’t help but wonder, the edges slightly dented.

“Every now and then,” you shrugged, walking towards the kitchen area - it was small, barely a corner, an empty plate sitting in the sink - and placing the beer in the fridge. “Most people just don’t want to fuck with me - they think I might sacrifice them to some forest deity,” you added with an amused glint in your eye.

Steve was starting to see why you got along with Eddie.

“You live here alone?” he asked with a little frown, taking in the place - it was chaotic, but not messy, with mismatched furniture, a radio playing low music resting by the window, and entirely you. He couldn’t explain why, but there was a little bit of you in every corner of the living room.

“Why, planning on murdering me, Harrington?” you flashed him a grin, stepping towards the corridor that led to a half-closed door. He followed you with his gaze, but remained by the couch, taking in the space furthermore. “Oh, no - I wouldn’t want any forest deity moving against me,” he called a little louder, and heard your laughter followed by a little clattering.

“Does Eddie know you’re buying from his competition?” you called back, and before he could answer you returned to the living room, a shoebox in your hands. “Actually, yes,” he cleared his throat, watching as you settled on the couch, box on your crossed legs. “I’ll have some apologizing to do.”

You looked up at him, eyebrows arched, and Steve froze for a moment.

“Come sit,” you said then, turning towards the free end of the couch. He made his way towards it carefully, sitting by the edge of the cushion and, unable to help yourself, you snorted. “I won’t bite,” you reassured, voice lowered as you leaned towards him. “You’re different from what I expected, Harrington.”

“Thank you?” he frowned a little, unsure, and you grinned again, placing the box in front of him and opening it for him. Buds and pre-rolled joints looked up at him, and he tilted his head a little, taking one up. “Split?” he offered, and you scoffed.

“Trying the product before actually committing to the purchase?” you took the joint from him and shifted forward to grab a lighter from the coffee table in front of you. “No, not really,” he followed your movements, taking a slow breath in. “I just don’t want to go already,” he admitted then, voice lower. You paused, joint held between your lips, and then one corner of your mouth lifted up slightly, a half smirk as you flicked the lighter.

You inhaled, eyes never leaving Steve as your cheeks hollowed slightly, and then moved the box on the table right as you exhaled, leaning in his direction, the smoke curling around your extended arm and hand.

“You only had to say that, Harrington.”

He took the joint from you, fingers brushing for a split second, then watches6 as you sat back, legs kicked up on the couch and legs bent. The cropped top left the tattoo across your ribs exposed, and his eyes lingered there for a moment.

“What did you expect?” he asked, looking up to meet your gaze already on him - it made him feel under some sort of scrutiny, and he shifted a little, attempting to relax back on the couch. “You said I’m different from what you expected - what did you expect?”

“Come on,” you scoffed, legs crossed at the ankle and a slight roll of your eyes. “Steve Harrington, the King of Hawkins,” you said then, an exaggerated, theatrical note in your voice, eyes widening a little in emphasis. “I remember high-school - you could be a real asshole.”

Steve brought the joint to his lips with a half-hazarded scoff, eyes wandering away. He should’ve been used to the bluntness, with Robin, Dustin and Eddie constantly calling him out - yet it somehow sounded different when coming from you.

In the time he’d gotten to know you - the mornings at the café, with your tired eyes and smudged make-up, or the couple of times he’d managed to convince Robin and Eddie to go back to the pub - he’d noticed you never held back. Whether it was with them or a particularly annoying customer at the pub, you had no problem saying things as they were.

And, truthfully, he had been an asshole during high-school.

“I did hear some rumors you had changed,” you continued as he exhaled, tilting your head just slightly. “I just find it hard to listen to and believe in those - had to see it with my own eyes.” “Why’s that?” he asked with a little frown, leaning forward when you gestured at him to hand the joint back, again with the fingers brushing, the delicate jolt running up his arm. You snorted, tipping your head back a little.

“This town certainly has a reputation of not blowing things out of proportion and saying things as they are,” you inhaled, deep and slow, your eyes on him. The cloud of smoke curled up towards the ceiling when you exhaled and returned the joint back to him. “I mean, I’m definitely in a cult, you know? Same as Eddie. We meet on Sundays to sacrifice people at the altar right behind my house,” you announced, a cheeky grin on your face as you rested back.

Steve scoffed lightly, shaking his head.

“Okay, yeah, that’s not - you’re right,” he noticed a faint ring of lipstick around the filter of the joint as he brought it up to his own lips, and his eyes flicked up to your face, to the smudged stain at the corner of your mouth. “How much of the stuff they say is true?” he wondered then, and simultaneously wondered whether it was too much he was asking or not.

You shrugged, hands interlocked over your stomach as he took a drag.

“I decided to leave my parents’ house, and I did try to move out of Hawkins - that’s how I found this place. Oh, and no, I’m not a virgin,” the words made him cough, smoke burning his nostrils and throat as he turned the other way, only hearing your chuckle. “So easy,” you murmured, stretching across the cushion and towards him as you continued listing. “I’m not planning on dying alone, just waiting to not have someone get with me as a challenge. And I did want to finish school - my parents just decided otherwise for me after I left.”

“Oh,” he frowned again, his voice scratchy, trying to make sense of your words. She’s gonna crush your heart. She’s going to eat you alive. “Why stay in Hawkins, then? You clearly hate the place,” he tried then, and you chuckled again - he tilted his head a little, watching you. “Even now, couldn’t you just go?”

“With pub and drugs money? No,” you shook your head, extending your legs across his lap. “I wouldn’t make it very far - I’m not even sure I’d have enough gas to get out of town,” you added, lifting yourself up enough to take the joint back from his hand.

He wasn’t sure whether it was the weed or your being so relaxed at his side, but he felt himself melt back a little, his hand coming to rest on your calf, a sense of ease settling in his bones. His tongue felt looser, too, the knot in his throat he got whenever you were around vanishing altogether.

“Isn’t there anyone you could ask to help? I’m sure -” he paused, watching as you arched an eyebrow through your exhale.

“If I had anyone willing to help, d’you really believe I’d have stayed here?” you pulled yourself up then, sitting with your legs draped over his to hand him the last bit of the joint. His gaze softened, hand lingering for a moment over yours even as the filter started to burn against his skin and you rolled your eyes just a little, leaning to rest your elbows across your thighs, back of one hand resting against his chest and the other supporting your head up. “Don’t worry, Harrington, I don’t need pity. I’d do it again, even if it means remaining stuck here.”

“Still,” he hesitated. Still, couldn’t you have done so much more? Instead, you shook your head.

“Trust me, had you had parents like mine, you would’ve rather lived in a shack - even worse than this one - too,” you reassured, brushing your knuckles across his chest before reaching to get the ashtray for him to stump out the butt.

“Well, I barely know my parents,” he admitted absent-mindedly, gaze turned down to where his hand rested across your leg. “They’re never really home, and if they are it still feels as if they’re not actually there - like they don’t see me, or simply don’t care, or -” he looked up all of a sudden, cutting himself off. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t be complaining - my life’s been so fucking easy so far, it’s ridiculous, I really shouldn’t say -”

“Steve,” the sound of his name on your lips made him snap back to reality all of a sudden, your hand moving from his chest to his neck, then up furthermore to cup his jaw. Your skin was soft and cold, and his eyelids drooped slightly at your touch, hazy gaze turning to your smile. “Relax - it’s not like being wealthy precludes you from having shitty parents.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he scoffed, somewhat amused. “I’ve been spending too much time with Robin, probably. I get nervous and I just start talking, and I don’t really think about what I’m saying beforehand.”

“No,” he breathed out - then, because your smirk grew, he sighed. “A little,” he admitted, voice softer, hand inching up towards your knee.

He’d seen you with Eddie - his arms around you, your hands holding his face, the way he’d play with your hair and you with his rings. He’d seen you with Robin, too - tucking her hair behind her ear, having her sit on your lap, murmuring things in her ear that left her flustered and she refused to repeat. He knew it meant nothing: the touches, the teasing, the looks.

But it was just the two of you, in your house, so close, and he was high on weed and your sharp perfume, and he was sure you could feel his heart doing laps in his chest.

“Maybe I should go,” he murmured, but made no attempt to move from his position. “I’m not letting you drive back right now,” you shook your head, thumbs running across his cheeks as you brought him closer. “You’re high - your pupils are huge.”

“They always get like that when I see you though,” his whispered response as he lowered his forehead towards yours earned a quiet chuckle from you, hands falling to his shoulders. “I have a confession - I didn’t actually come here for the weed.”

“No?” he could hear the amused note in your voice, but didn’t really care, your fingers brushing his neck just above the collar of his shirt as he shook his head.

“I just wanted to see you - without Robin, or Eddie, or anyone at The Hideout, or you just coming back from work,” your hands reached the back of his head, one hand cupping the nape of his neck, the other brushing his hair down a bit as you hummed in response.

And then you were kissing him, pulling him towards you as your lips bruised his and his hand gripped your leg both in surprise and to ground himself. You were there, solid - so soft - under his hand, over him, on him.

When he sighed, lips parting, your tongue brushed into his mouth, and you moved to sit on his lap - never once breaking the kiss but only deepening it, forcing his head back against the backrest of the couch as you shifted a little higher than him. Steve could taste the smoke on your lips and, ironically enough, cherries.

His hands moved from your legs as you straddled his lap, slowly caressing up your hips and waist, gripping a little tighter when you had to break the kiss to breathe, slowly shifting back on his thighs. He then felt your lips drag across his jaw sloppily, down and down towards his neck as he craned his head back a little.

“This wasn’t my intention, by the way,” he breathed out, voice hoarse, forcing back a quiet groan as you kissed his pulse point. “I really just wanted to see you, and be with you, but this -”

“I know, Steve,” you hummed, a little smile in your words. “Relax, it’s okay,” you added, lips brushing the shell of his ear before you tilted your head, resuming the trail of kisses across Steve’s neck. One of his hands left your side, moving to the small of your back as if to push you against him furthermore just as a hiss left his mouth.

“You said you wouldn’t bite,” he gasped, and craned his neck as your teeth sank gently into his skin, offering you more. With a low chuckle, you ran the flat of your tongue across the offended spot, making Steve shift underneath you, eyes fluttering shut.

“I lied,” you admitted, making your way further down, nibbling at his throat as he threw his head back, sighing softly while he caressed your back, reaching underneath your shirt, his warm hand splaying over your spine. He pushed you closer, your hips rocking against him.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, breathless, his fingers stroking your skin tentatively. Slowly, you pulled your head up, angling yourself so you were looking down at him, a little smile on your swollen lips.

“You’re already touching me,” you whispered, and he took his other hand off of your side to reach your face. He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing at the corner of your mouth as if to clean it of the smeared lipstick. There was a tenderness in his touch, such strong contrast with the heaving of his chest, his pupils wide, his lips bruised. “Yes, Steve, you can,” you reassured then, unable to keep yourself from smiling.

He lifted his head then, kissing you right back as both his hands returned to your waist, open-mouthed and needy. He traced the edge of the tattoo across your ribs, delicate and slow, touch shifting until he was cupping your breasts, his warm palms over your naked skin eliciting a gasp out of you.

You shifted above him again, grinding down on him as you slowly rolled your hips to second the movements of his hands, soft sighs falling from your lips. He bucked up his hips, a moan escaping you against his mouth in response.

“Okay?” he let his lips trail along your jaw, word barely slurred out as you nodded, then threw your head back and bit down on your bottom lip, back arching towards his touch as his thumbs swept over your nipples, gaining another moan out of you. “Can I take this off?”

His voice had dropped as he pushed your top up a little, looking up at you almost expectantly and, lip still trapped between your teeth, you nodded again, moving your hands from his shoulders to aid him. Steve moved slowly, his eyes never leaving you, taking in every further inch of exposed skin until you were standing bare-chested in front of him, and his hands were on your sides again.

“Look at you,” a mere whisper uttered as he brushed his lips across your collarbones, up to your throat, nudging your chin up. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he continued, voice muffled against your skin.

You froze for a moment - an instant of tension after you’d buried your hands in his hair, breath catching in your throat at his words. So soft. So genuine. The situation dawned on you so suddenly - Steve’s lips on you, his body underneath you, his touch still delicate. It wasn’t his challenge, being there with you. It was all real.

He felt the moment you stilled, no other noise coming from you but heavy breaths, and he pulled back right away, looking up just as a hesitant smile bent your lips - just barely visible.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, a little worried. “Nothing,” you shook your head and cleared your throat, bringing your gaze down on him as you brushed his hair back - only messing it further. He frowned lightly, and you leaned in. “It’s nothing, Steve, really.”

“We can stop,” he spoke softly, hands remaining still at your sides. “If you changed your mind - I don’t care. We can stop. I can go.”

“No,” you shook your head, cupping his cheeks as you softened against him, the tension leaving you as you looked into his eyes. He meant it. All of it. “No one’s called me beautiful in a while - it’s stupid.”

At that, he frowned, eyes moving across your face, down your neck and chest, your arms and back up to your face. “I don’t believe that,” he muttered, shaking his head as much as your hands allowed. You shrugged, rubbing small circles at the corner of his mouth.

“Hot, desirable, foxy even,” you listed, gaze lingering on his parting lips. “Just that.”

“Well, I say you are beautiful,” he said, tipping his chin up a little. He took your hand from his face, turning his head to rest a delicate kiss on your palm. “Beautiful,” he repeated, voice hoarse, then kissed your wrist. “Lovely,” your forearm. “Cute,” the crook of your elbow. “Pretty,” a breath against your shoulder before beckoning you closer. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,” each time a kiss across the skin of your neck, and you couldn’t help the quiet snort escaping your lips.

It pulled a smile on his mouth as well before he brought his hand behind your head, cupping the nape of your neck and closing the gap between you, the kiss a little slower, a little softer, his other arm wrapping around your middle to hold you against him.

You felt him shift, keeping you firmly as he switched your positions, laying you down across the couch and settling with one leg between your thighs, free hand braced at your side to not weigh down on you. Still kissing you, he traced your side with the tip of his fingers, almost ticklish as you arched against him, tugging at his shirt until his back was uncovered.

He pulled back long enough to take it off and, in straightening his back, his thigh pressed between your legs, causing a whine to fall from your lips as you hooked your fingers in the belt of his jeans.

“Do that again,” you gasped, rolling your hips just slightly as you attempted to pull him closer. Steve’s hands fell to your hips, gripping them and helping you grind against him, the flimsy material of your pants wrinkling at the friction as you moaned again, lips parting, head thrown back with a string of curses stuck in your throat.

Steve watched you, the flush across your chest, your hands fumbling to undo his belt blindly, the pressure against your core making your stomach flutter. Beautiful didn’t even begin to describe it, the curve of your body as you sought more friction against the rough material of his jeans, your eyelids trembling as you turned your head and looked at him through lowered lashes.

Once his belt came undone, and you popped the button of his pants, he lowered himself against you, still holding your hips in place. Your hands roamed his torso, sides, shoulders as he kissed you again, and kissed you and kissed you, desperately trying to capture every single little noise that escaped your open mouth.

He shifted his leg back, a sound of protest muffled against his mouth, quickly replaced by a shuddering breath as one of his hands left your side, moving past the waistband of your pants and underwear, his fingers just barely brushing your skin.

“Can I?” he drawled over your skin, down and down your jaw, neck, chest, the tip of his tongue tracing the tattoo across your sternum before moving up again, his gaze searching yours as the heel of his hand gently pressed onto your lower belly. “Please,” he added, hot breath fanning over your parted lips.

Plush lips, dilated pupils, short breath, Steve looked down at you expectantly, waiting, the warmth of his hand on you luring you closer - you nodded then, bottom lip trapped between your teeth as you arched against his touch, shifting your hips until his fingers brushed the apex of your core.

Agonizingly slow, he dragged his fingers across your already wet folds, slick gathering over his digits. He was kissing your neck then, lips latched onto your pulse point as he moved the tip of his finger back up - you twitched underneath him when he nudged your clit, a whine escaping your lips when he did it again, drawing a small circle over it.

He was attentive to your every response - when he pushed your thighs a little more open with his legs and you arched furthermore against him, chest puffing up and hands finding his arms to hold onto him; when he switched from side to side to small circles over your clit and you spasmed lightly underneath him, panting and keening into his ear; and when he pushed one finger inside of you, and then a second one, and you clenched around him, grinding down against his hand.

“Steve,” was the only coherent thing that came out of your lips along a string of muttered curses, yes, yes, yes and fuck, Steve, God, his fingers pumping in and out of you, thumb rolling against your clit.

He pulled himself up, a low pop muffled next to your ear where a bruise was already forming in the shape of Steve’s lips, and he sat back on his heels, his hair falling ruffled against his forehead as he trained his gaze down on you again.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath labored, curling his fingers inside of you. “So beautiful,” he repeated, watching you throw your head back with a gasp, your neck exposed to him, as if showing off the marks he’d left on your skin.

He moved his other hand from your hip where he held you down to your lower stomach, pushing down as he repeated the motion of his fingers inside of you, pressing against your front wall and making you cry out. The pressure was almost overwhelming, your hand gripping his wrist tighter, grinding down against his hand as his name left your lips over and over again, a chant growing, breathless and whiny.

“I’m gonna -” sentence cut off by a gasp, your thighs started trembling against his in a reflexive attempt to close your legs. “So good, feels so good, Steve,” Steve, Steve, repeated through moans before the air left your lungs fully, and you came gushing over his hand, a long, sharp cry as you shook underneath him, clenching around his fingers.

Steve coaxed your orgasm out of you until it became unbearable and you pushed him away by his wrist with a whispered please, eyes fluttering shut and chest heaving.

Slowly, he dragged his fingers up your abdomen, stomach, between the valley of your breasts, your release still coating his fingers - he kissed your skin clean in its wake, the taste of you on his mouth when he kissed you again, gentle. Wearily you chased him, arm wrapped around his shoulders to push him down, hand buried through his hair as you deepened the kiss, licking every last drop of you from his lips.

“You okay?” he murmured through quick pecks along your cheek, your arms still heavy around him, legs limp at his sides.

“Need a moment,” you retorted, turning your head to try and kiss him again, blindly, sloppily. “You’re so fucking good, Harrington,” he chuckled at your muffled words. “Think I might’ve fallen for you a little there.”

“Alright, don’t mock me now,” he said it light-heartedly, through more tiny kisses, pulling back to look at you each time.

“I’m not,” he scoffed, his hand coming up to brush the hair away from sticking on your forehead. Without his arm supporting him, you flipped the two of you over, straddling his lap with still shaking thighs. “I am not,” you repeated a little firmer, pinning his hands at each side of his head. “You’re good to me, Steve,” you said then, lowering your voice as if anyone could be around to listen while you kissed his lips, once. “Always so good to me,” his jaw -

Steve let his eyes flutter shut, shifting a little underneath you, pants straining as his erection pressed against your lower abdomen, the mere contact making him groan and bite down on his cheeks, a choked out baby leaving his mouth in spite of the layer of clothing between the two of you.

“Giving me free coffee when I need it,” you continued, a little smile in your words as you kissed his neck. “Coming to the pub,” the hollow of his throat as his breath picked up. “Staying up late just to see me to my car,” his collarbones. “Always making sure I’m okay,” his heaving chest before looking up, waiting until he returned his gaze on you to continue in a gentle voice, head tilted. “I do like you,” you admitted quietly, watching as Steve’s neck flushed slightly and he wet his lips, his brows knitting a little. You rested your chin on his chest, gently scratching up and down his forearms. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“No,” he shook his head, then sighed. “Maybe a little - it’s Robin being paranoid, and Eddie being an ass, and you -” he shook his head again, eyes closing.

“I - what?” you frowned slightly, letting go of one of his hands to tap his cheek gently with the tip of your finger - when he looked back at you, you cupped his cheek, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth where a red halo, a stain of whatever had remained of your lipstick, tinged his skin.

“I didn’t think you’d ever take me seriously,” he admitted then - blurted out, really - and your eyebrows arched in surprise. “I came here tonight just because I wanted to be with you, even just for a few minutes - I never expected any of this. Not with you.”

“Not with me?” you chuckled, pushing yourself up a little to move your face right in front of his, tips of your nose brushing his. The shift against his crotch had him groan lightly, jaw twitching at the friction. “You never even spared me a second glance in high-school, what’s that supposed to mean?” despite your words, your hand still cradled his cheek, reassuring.

“That’s not true,” he moved his head, nudging the tip of your nose. “I did look at you. I saw you.”

“Ever thought of trying your luck with me before?” you grinned, the teasing note in your voice making him glance away for a moment.

“God, no,” he sighed, moving his hand slowly until it reached your waist just as you straddled his lap again, rocking slowly against him. “Thought you’d bite my head off.”

“I told you, I don’t bite,” you murmured, tilting your head to brush your lips on his. He kissed you once, twice, hand resting on the small of your back.

“I think I have a mark that says otherwise,” he scoffed in between kisses, pushing you a little closer as you chuckled against his mouth. You let go of his other hand too, which immediately fell to the back of your head as you reached between your bodies, at last undoing the zipper of his jeans before tugging them down - he lifted his hips to help, while simultaneously, moving the hand from your back to the hem of your own pants. “Do you have a -”

“Reach behind you,” hastily, you pulled back and hovered his legs as you helped him out fully, belt jingling as you let the jeans fall to the ground. Eyebrows arched, Steve did as he was told, tilting his head back until he located a small box on the side table and you nodded, kicking off your pants.

“Seriously?” he laughed, watching you smirk and straddle his lap, the ghost of his previous touch still on your thighs. He grabbed a silvery packet and held it up between the two of you, placing the box back down. “In the living room?” he teased, pushing himself up on his elbows.

“I don’t just let anybody in my bedroom, Harrington,” you shrugged, and removed your underwear as well. Steve let his gaze wander across your body - the tattoos, the forming bruises on your hips, the marks he’d left with his mouth. He bucked his hips up involuntarily, forcing his eyes back towards your face as you leaned in and took the condom from his hand. “A girl’s gotta be prepared,” you said then, voice a mere, raspy whisper.

After you removed the last piece of clothing between the two of you, Steve fell back against the couch as you wrapped your hand around his erection, a hiss escaping his lips when you brushed your thumb over the tip, smearing his precum around it and then down his length.

“Jesus - fuck,” he cussed, fucking his hips up into your hand. Seeing and feeling you fall apart on his hand had been enough to almost send him over the edge, leaving him sensitive - one touch and his vision was hazy already.

Baby, sweetheart, baby, falling from his lips at the sound of the wrapping tearing. He moaned when you rolled the condom down his cock, one hand raking through his hair and the other gripping the couch underneath him to keep himself from writhing under your touch.

He was so far gone already.

Steve managed to look up only when he felt your hand wrapped around his base and you shifted up his body again, blurry vision clearing enough to notice the flush of your cheeks and heaving chest, your stomach fluttering as you looked down on him, too, then met his eye - lips parted, panting and sighing as he grabbed your hips, his warm hands already so familiar on your body.

You held his gaze as you slowly, achingly slow, sunk down on him, free hand falling to his chest to hold yourself up, thighs burning as the ache of him stretching you turned into a blinding pleasure.

“Easy,” you warned breathlessly as he pushed you down slightly, a choked back groan at your stillness leaving his lips. You steadied yourself with both hands on his chest now. “Oh my - fuck,” a mewl as you threw your head back, eyes fluttering shut as you bottomed out.

Steve kneaded your sides gently, then ran his hands down your thighs, muscles trembling slightly in the wake of his touch. He didn’t move just yet, heavy breathing underneath your hands as he watched your throat bob, stomach fluttering.

And then you started to move - a slow rocking of your hips, up and down his length. Steve set the pace, his hands guiding you by your hips, soft praises falling from his mouth. Feel so good, so good, keep going, just like that, twitching inside of you each time you let out a moan.

When he shifted, sitting up, you found yourself stilling, both arms wrapped around his shoulders as you clenched around him, gaining another groan from him as he squeezed your hips.

“Alright, baby?” his voice was low, lips trailing lazily across your shoulder, up towards your neck, one of his arms sliding around your waist to keep you down against him while his other hand came to rest behind him.

Burying one hand in his hair you nodded, cheek against cheek as he nibbled the juncture between your ear and jaw, a hum barely passing through your sealed lips that quickly turned into a gasp as he pushed his hips up into you.

Steve moved his head back then, looking up at you as you held onto his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh as he guided your movements above him, steady, rocking hips that made his eyelids grow heavy - yet he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“So pretty,” he whispered through his shortening breaths and moans, reaching up to tuck a wild strand of hair behind your ear, then cup your cheek - he fucked up into you again, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the room, the house, your head as you forced yourself to keep your eyes open. “So fucking pretty.”

He felt you falter, hips twitching uncontrolled as your thighs shook at his sides, just as you blindly searched for his mouth, tugging onto his hair a little harsher until you managed to kiss him, deep and breathless, your lips bruising - and again and again.

“I’m gonna come, Steve,” whispered against his skin, voice cracking with a cry and Steve, Steve repeated over and over like a chant.

You pulled his hair, just once, to break away from him and gasp a oh God as you threw your head back, your whole body trembling around his - it tipped him over the edge, too, a groan he suppressed against the skin of your chest, twitching deep inside of you as he came and oh God the soft noises, the praises falling from his lips directly onto your skin were almost enough to make your head spin.

You stayed like that: him still deep inside of you, his head resting on your chest, your heart hammering under his ear as you brushed your hand through his hair and placed your cheek on top of his head, both his arms wrapped loosely around you as you tried to regain your breaths.

“I take back what I said before,” your mouth felt pasty, voice muffled as your cheek remained slightly squashed on top of Steve’s head. “I definitely fell for you a little bit, now.”

Steve laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest and across your skin - the slight shake of his body made you hiss, and he left a quick peck against the hollow of your throat before moving his hands to your sides.

Ever so slowly helped you off of him with a quiet apology. The movement made the both of you groan, and you toppled at his side with a long exhale, back pressed against the backrest of the couch. You vaguely registered him getting up, moving towards the kitchen, and coming back after what seemed to be the blink of an eye - or maybe you’d simply dozed off.

“You okay?” he sat down next to you again, the couch definitely too small for you to be staying side by side, a glass of water in his hand. A grin made its way over your lips tiredly, and you lifted your head as he brought it closer to your face.

“See? Always so good to me,” you murmured once he moved back, his thumb running over your lips to collect the droplets of water. “I’m fine, just tired,” you reassured as he put the glass down blindly, his eyes never leaving you even as he lied down. You shifted half on top of him, enough so there was space for the both of you, chin resting on his chest where you left a quick peck. “Are you?”

“Are you kidding?” he scoffed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you closer, carefully locked against his side. “Never been better,” he kissed the top of your head, your forehead, fingers tracing lazy, mindless lines across the skin of your back.

You melted into him, his soothing touch, his now-so-familiar scent, the steadying rhythm of his heart. It slowly lulled you into a half-sleep state, Steve’s body relaxing as well.

“Steve?” you mumbled against his chest, and his hand stilled, head turning just barely as he hummed in response. “Don’t fall asleep on the couch, you’ll get a backache,” you warned, yet nestled closer to his side.

The couch was old - you’d experienced the pains a night on it brought one too many times.

“It’s okay, I’ll just be five minutes,” he reassured, resuming tracing patterns over your skin with the tip of his fingers. “Then I’ll be on my way, let you get some rest.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harrington,” you scoffed, at last looking up towards him. His eyes were closed, his lips parted - still plump, still rosy, so kissable with his hair falling messily against his forehead. “Stay the night - let’s go to bed.”

He opened his eyes - his long lashes trembling against his cheeks before he did so, a light frown knitting his brow before he turned to look down towards you. He licked his lips, letting his hand move up the nape of your neck, guiding your head back.

“I thought you said no one’s allowed in your room,” he said, only half-teasingly.

“I said not just anyone,” you corrected, shifting up until you could brush your lips against his - just a mere brush, not chasing him, not letting him chase you. “You’re not just anyone.”

“You’re just trying to charge me extra,” he whispered in mock offense, the corners of his mouth twitching as he fought off a smile. “First weed, then spending the night -” “The sex, too,” you pointed out with a grin of your own.

“Of course,” he nodded, gravely, and you chuckled, leaning in to kiss him once, gently, deep. Your hand came up to his face, cupping his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek before you pulled back and met his eyes.

“Stay,” you repeated, and then, lower, sweeter - “Please?”

“Just as long as you won’t sacrifice me to some forest deity,” he nodded, pulling you almost fully on top of him. And with a smile, you kissed him again. “No promises, Harrington.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harringotn x oc #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #redahlia #cherry bomb

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tired-and-ticklish · 3 months

Text

What Goes Around Comes Around

Third and finale part to Rough Day and Bonding Exercise.

Summary: Charlie is ecstatic her bonding exercise idea worked. Though, it might have worked a little too well, as she, Vaggie, and Alastor soon find out.

TW: Tickling, Swearing, Angel Dust being Angel Dust, Australian Slang and Swears

Disclaimer: I do not support V*v*z*epop, I simply like the characters and exploring their dynamics, usually in silly ways.

“Are you okay, Angel?” Charlie asked as she patted his side. Said spider was currently curled up on himself, trying to get rid of any lingering ticklish sensations.

“F-Fucking… peachy Charlie.” The pornstar replied, waving one of his many hands. “You’re both evil.”

“C’mon, like you didn’t enjoy yourself.” Vaggie teased, which made Angel’s face go slightly pink. “Otherwise you would have asked us to stop sooner.”

“Oh, fuck off!”

Charlie couldn’t help but laugh at the scene before her.

“Oh, you think this is funny, princess?” Angel Dust asked, a mischievous look in his eyes. “I’ll give ya something to laugh about!”

Before Hell’s Princess could react, the spider’s hands were already upon her, his upper ones tickling her ribs, while his lower ones squeezed her sides. The reaction was immediate, Charlie letting the giggles flow out of her. She kind of expected this retaliation, but it was okay. That was the point of the exercise!

“W-Wahhahaait Ahahahahangel!”

“Wait for what? For ya to tickle me again? Fat chance!”

Charlie squealed, kicking her legs out as she did. It was obvious to see that the Princess of Hell was enjoying this little ‘exercise’, laughing her heart out and not even trying to push the spider away. Vaggie couldn’t help but chuckle in response. It was no secret that Charlie loved silly activities like this, given the many tickle fights the two had during their three years together.

“Don’t bully my girlfriend too much.” Vaggie warned, getting a bit closer to watch Charlie.

“Oh, I won’t.” Angel said, removing the arms on his left side from Charlie. “After all, there’s two people I need to get back.”

That was all the warning the bodyguard got as both Angel’s left hands started tickling her. She jolted from the touch, biting her lip and trying not to laugh. Vaggie was the bodyguard of the hotel, for fuck’s sake, she couldn’t let anyone know (save for Charlie who already knew), that she was ticklish! But damn Angel and his extra hands! It was unfair!

“Didn’t think I could focus on two people at once~?” Angel asked, moving his hands toward Vaggie’s stomach. “Do you even know me?”

“Anahahahahangel yoohohoohhoh diihihihihck!” Vaggie cried out, causing the spider to gasp in mock shock.

“A dick? Now is that any way to talk to someone who’s making you and cha cha laugh~?”

“Vahahahahahggihihihie beheheheh nihihihihice!”

“Sthahahahahay ohohohohout ohohohof thihihihis, Chahahaharlie!”

“Uh oh, the girls are fighting~”

It was completely unfair that Angel could tickle both of them at once! While the hands on his right side started moving to Charlie’s hips, the hands on his left went toward Vaggie’s ribs. The spider then decided to switch it up, using both his upper arms to slowly drag on the bodyguard’s ribs, while his lower ones drilled into the Princess’ hips.

The reactions he got were very promising.

“ANAHAHAHAHNGEL IIHIIHIHHIH’M GOHOOHOHHING TO FUUHUHUHCKING KIHIHIHIHLL YOOHOHOHU!”

“WAHAHAHAIT WAHAHAIT-” *bleat!*

“Oh my fucking God.” Angel’s face broke into a wide, evil grin. “You fucking bleated! Like a damn goat!”

“DOHOHOHOHON’T THEHEHHEEASE MEHEHEHEHE!”

“Hey, either of you ever heard the ‘itsy bitsy spider’ song~?”

"DOOHOHOHOHOHON'T!" Both girls pleaded.

"Man, you both make this too easy~"

—

“Well, Husker, I have to say that was quite entertaining!” Alastor mused as the bartender caught his breath.

“May…Maybe for you, you sadistic asshole.” Husk said, glaring slightly at the Overlord, who simply shrugged.

“You can’t deny you’ve enjoyed yourself, Husker.” The Radio Demon teased, that smug grin never leaving his face.

“Well, I’m about to enjoy this a lot more.” The bartender said, still glaring at Alastor, but now with a malicious smile.

Before Alastor could react, Husk’s tail had wrapped around his ankle, dragging the taller demon over to him. The Overlord quickly realized what was about to happen, trying to free himself from the cat demon’s grasp.

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” Alastor warned, his normally terrifying smile twitching into a more nervous one.

“Big talk for someone who’s just as sensitive.” Husk teased, before poking at the deer’s sides.

The reaction was instant, Alastor freezing up before biting his lip. He really should have seen this coming, and perhaps he did. Afterall, if he truly hated it, he would have already teleported out of Husk’s hold, or mauled the bartender for even daring to try. Still, that didn’t mean he’d actually admit that, as he tried to shove Husk off him.

“R-Rehehehelease me at on-AHAHAHAHA!”

Husk’s hands made their way to Alastor’s hips, digging his claws into the sensitive area. The Radio Demon’s laughter poured out in earnest as he tried to grab Husk’s hands. The bartender simply kneaded his hands a bit harder into the deer’s hips, causing another scream of laughter.

“Damn, boss, no wonder you hate being touched.” Husk hummed “Imagine people finding out you’re this ticklish.”

“Huhuhuhusker! Dohohohohn’t tehehehease me!” Alastor exclaimed, kicking his legs a bit.

“What? You think I’m stupid enough to tease you?” Husk asked, greatly amused. “I’m just stating some facts, boss.”

Alastor attempted to protest, but he was cut off by the feeling of the feathered end of Husk’s tail tickling his stomach, making him shriek. He could feel it even through his shirt, the Radio Demon’s stomach was just that ticklish. Alastor mentally cursed Charlie for this ridiculous bonding idea, despite the fact he agreed to it.

Husk, meanwhile, hummed a bit as he poked and prodded at his boss’ hips, deciding to torment him there for a few more moments. Alastor then felt him stop, though the bartender’s tail was still tickling his stomach, before feeling Husk turn toward his legs. A screech of panicked radio static came from his throat.

“H-Huhuhuhusker wahahait! W-Whehehhe cahahaan tahahahalk about thihihihis!” Alastor attempted to plead as the bartender took off his shoes.

“Sure, you talk Boss.” Husk said, turning to give the Radio Demon a grin. “And I’ll tickle.”

The way Alastor howled as Husk slowly dragged his claws up and down the deer hooves was almost enough to make the bartender worry people would think he was killing the deer, until pleas of laughter burst forth, Alastor’s voice switching between radio static and his actual voice. It probably didn’t help matters that his tail was still tickling his boss’ stomach.

“You know, you can blame Rosie for me knowing this.” Husk told the Radio Demon, chuckling at his reactions.

“IHIHIHIHIH’M GOOHOHOHHING TOHOHOHOH EHEHEHEND HEHEHEHEER!”

“No you won’t.”

Alastor hated when Husk was right. He could never truly stay mad at the Cannibal Overlord for long, even if she had betrayed him and told both his ‘employees’ of his ticklish nature, and where to tickle to get him screaming. Despite it all, the deer could feel his tail wagging slightly under his coat, another reason he kept it hidden.

“Hey, you were giving me shit about my wings before, but your hooves are even worse off.” Husk mused, pressing into the pads. “Maybe I should tell Niffty about that~”

“IIHIHIHIH WOHOHOOHOHN’T HIHIHIIHIF YOOHOHOHOU WOOHOHOHN’T!” Alastor pleaded.

“Sure you won’t.” Husk chuckled. “You won’t directly tell her anything, but I know you, fucker. You’ll drop hints about it to her.”

“NOHOHOHOH IHIHIHIHDEHEHEHEA WHAHAHAHAT YOOHOHOHU MEHEHEHEAN!”

“Maybe I should tell her to clean your ears too, make sure you can actually hear shit.”

“HUHUHUHUHUSKER!”

—

Once Angel Dust and Husk had decided their revenge was thoroughly gotten, they had let their victims go. All five of them then met up with each other on the way back to the hotel lobby. Vaggie and Charlie had their hands on each other’s hips, Angel and Husk were walking close together, while Alastor simply strode close by, using his microphone as a cane.

“I mean, I also need to get Niffty back for tickling me in the first place.” Angel said, chuckling at the idea.

“Tough shit, legs.” Husk began, slightly amused by Angel’s confused expression. “She ain’t ticklish.”

“Bullshit!”

“I’m afraid it’s true, my arachnid companion.” Alastor butted in, twisting his head toward the spider’s direction. “Our darling little Niffty isn’t the slightest bit ticklish!”

“Dammit!” Angel huffed. “That’s just unfair! Someone small and dangerous like her shouldn’t have that much power!”

“Try telling that to him.” Husk said, nodding his head toward Alastor’s direction.

“I’m insulted you think it’s my fault she’s like this.” Alastor said, placing a hand to his chest in mock hurt.

“Remind me not to give her any excuse to try with us, then.” Vaggie said tiredly. “Also you want to talk about unfair? How about the fact you have four arms?!”

“Six.” Angel corrected, popping out his third set of arms, which waved to the bodyguard, before pulling them back into his body. “Be happy I didn’t decide to use them on you and cha cha.”

“Though, I assume for balance, all of your underarms are terribly ticklish?” Alastor asked, his grin spreading wider as Angel sputtered in response, the pornstar’s face turning pink.

Before Angel could come up with a good comeback, all of them heard the sounds of someone screaming. They ran toward the source, each ready to fight whatever or whoever was attacking someone, only to be surprised by the sight of Niffty, dusting off Sir Pentious like she had done to Angel earlier.

“Ssssoohohohohomeohhohone gehehehehet hehehher ohohohohff ohohohohf mehehehe!” The snake pleaded, trying his best to grab the agile maid.

“You’re dirty!” Niffty replied, moving the duster toward his hood.

“Miihihihihisss Boohohohohmb, pleheheheesssehehhe hehehelp!”

“Nah, you’re on your own, mate.” Cherri Bomb replied, the others having not noticed her due to Sir Pentious’ reaction. She noticed them though. “Angie! Ya bitch, care to explain why tiny here is on a cleanin’ crusade?”

“She’s always like that.” Angel told her.

“Bloody ace.” Cherri replied sarcastically. “Pen and I just got back and apparently the shelia’s offended by how ‘dirty’ we are.”

“NOOHOHHOOT THEHEHEHERE!” Sir Pentious squealed as Niffty got to his neck.

“Well, perhaps this is an opportunity.” Alastor said, grinning.

“For what?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, our newest residents haven’t joined in on our little ‘bonding’ exercise!” Alastor said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It wouldn’t be fair to let them miss out, after all!”

“Oohoho, you hear that, sugar tits?” Angel asked, wiggling his fingers at Cherri, who immediately reacted.

“Angie, I’m fuckin’ warnin’ ya!” She said, going on the defensive. “I’ll make sure ya bloody regret it!”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Especially since he won’t be the only one helping.” Vaggie said with a grin, immediately tackling the cyclops. “Consider this revenge for blowing up our wall last week.”

“You’re still whingin’ about that?!”

“It did take some time for us to fix it.” Alastor mused, though instead of heading over to Cherri, he instead made his way toward Sir Pentious. “Niffty darling, may Husker and I be of assistance?”

“Of course, Alastor!” niffty said excitedly, ceasing her ticklish onslaught temporarily.

Sir Pentious caught his breath. “T-thank you, misssster Radio Demon ssssssssir.”

“Oh ho, don’t thank me yet.” Alastor said with a teasing tone. “Consider this revenge for ruining my coat, and for trying to spy on us for the Vees.”

“He did what?!” Husk exclaimed.

“Oops, did no one tell you~?” Alastor asked.

“Now guys, we aren’t doing this to be mean.” Charlie tried to plead, but she couldn’t deny her own mischievous grin growing on her face. “Even if it is a kind way to punish them.”

“Oooh, Princess has a dark side~?” Cherri asked. “Kink- whahahaait!”

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.” Vaggie growled as she dug her hands into the cyclops’ armpits. “Only I get to talk to her like that~”

“Wow, you struck a nerve, Cherri.” Angel said with a chuckle, coming over and grabbing Cherri’s arms to pull them up and out of Vaggie’s way. “After you, vagina.”

“Getting you back for that later.” Vaggie threatened.

“Ahahahahanghiihihihe yohohohoohu cuhuhuhuhunt!”

Charlie gasped. “We don’t use that kind of language in the hotel!” She tsked, coming over to help her girlfriend and first patron. “Guess we’ll just have to tickle it out of you~!”

“Charlie, we swear all the fucking time.” Angel deadpanned.

“Well, not that word!”

“Now, Niffty.” Alastor asked as he held Sir Pentious. “Where haven’t you tried yet~?”

“M-Misssster Radio Demon, pleassssse reconssssid-”

“I haven’t touched his tail yet.” Niffty answered.

“Wonder if this would work.” Husk hummed, using the feathered end of his tail to stroke Sir Pentious’ own.

The results were much better than expected.

“WAHAHAHAIT NOHOHOHOHO!”

“Goodness me, quite a weakness!” Alastor teased. “Imagine your idols finding out about this~”

“Come on Boss, don’t be too much of an asshole.” Husk said jokingly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Husker!”

“Not going to call you a liar, only because I don’t even know if you sleep.”

“Your concern is duly noted.”

Charlie was happy everyone was having fun and getting along. She needed to remember to put ‘weekly bonding exercises’ on their hotel schedule. For now, however, she was enjoying herself as much as everyone else, laughing along and tickling people to her heart’s content. She was sure the residents of the Hazbin Hotel would be redeemed in no time.

#hazbin hotel tickling #hazbin hotel tickle #tickle fic #tickle #ler!angeldust #lee!charlie #lee!vaggie #ler!husk #lee!alastor #ler!vaggie #ler!charlie #ler!niffty #ler!alastor #lee!cherri bomb #lee!sir pentious #timeline what timeline #if you saw me say before I had writer's block no you didn't

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mooncalf87 · 3 months

Text

Just a reminder: when Snakes shed their skin, they go blind for a couple days.

Be free my fanfic writers be free

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honeybcj · 1 month

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(another) snippet time

thank you to the lovely @sommerregenjuniluft and @itsjaywalkers for the tags <3 back again with more bartylily. potential for cherry bomb! part 2? yes? no? hmmm we shall see!

“So,” Lily notes after a couple minutes of silence, “I never got a proper answer as to why you never spoke to me.”

Barty snorts, then takes another drag of his cigarette. Around his exhale he says, “Stuffy, goody two shoes. Friends with Potter, you know?”

Lily drags a hand through her hair. She’s quiet for a moment, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. Barty makes it a few steps ahead of her before he halts, turning around to face Lily. He waves his cigarette around, raising a brow.

“Lily?”

Lily swallows thickly, blinking. “I’ve always been a goody two shoes.”

“Baby, goody two shoes don’t go grinding their pussy on a stranger’s leg, now do they?” Barty grins, all teeth and devilish. He drops the cigarette onto the concrete, stubbing it out with the toe of his shoe.

Even under the flickering, yellow streetlight, Barty can see the red seep onto Lily’s cheeks. Her gaze is averted to the pavement, but Barty won’t have it. He grasps her chin, lifting her head, so she has no choice but to look right at Barty. He’s got his head tilted to the side, walking the fine line between being arrogant and being concerned.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m taking you home, aren’t I?” Barty asks, dragging his thumb over Lily’s lower lip.

The only answer Barty gets is Lily parting her lips, inviting Barty’s thumb into her mouth. It goes with ease, the pad of his thumb sliding against Lily’s tongue. He presses down, gently, spit pooling around his thumb. White-hot desire pumps through Barty’s veins. Every open piece of skin is on fire, calling out for more.

He yanks his thumb out of Lily’s mouth, causing her to whine. She blinks up at him, tongue poking out to swipe over her bottom lip. The corner of Barty’s mouth turns up—he sees it all in Lily’s eyes, shining like emeralds once more.

“I don’t think goody two shoes suck on people’s thumbs and wish it were their cock instead,” Lily whispers, eyes flitting down to Barty’s barely concealed semi.

Barty’s has made foolish choices before, but this choice? It might make him the king of all fools.

#snippet tag game #fic: cherry bomb!#bartylily

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fics-and-quotes-andthelike · 6 days

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Hi! I was wondering if you could write an Angel Dust x reader (platonic). Where the reader is sad and just lying in their bedroom. And Angel Dust tries to give their friend some comfort and tries to make them feel better. Like maybe he does their makeup, they both dress up and go out into the city. And maybe Cherri Bomb joins them💗

Title: Here, Always

Pairing: Angel Dust x reader (Platonic)

Word Count: ~2,716

In which Angel Dust comforts the reader after a hard day with a makeover and a fun night out.

A/N: Thank you for the request!! Not proofread, Pure fluff. Hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: cursing, ooc Angel Dust maybe, not too many descriptors about visual appearance just so everyone can have their own image

Pentagram City wasn’t exactly known for the kindness of its residence. Nor was it known for its tranquility or leisurely pace. It was, however, a fantastic place to be if you wanted your energy and your very willpower to be drained in only an afternoon.

You sighed against your pillow, ignoring the sensible voice in your head that told you to get up and out of bed. You had been lying there for hours, after all.

Unfortunately, a louder voice in your head continued to comfort and coddle you, reassuring you that it was okay for you to remain in bed until you felt whole again.

You liked that voice.

So you burrowed deeper into your blankets, allowing them to obscure you from view and block out the rest of the world in a last ditch attempt to pretend that you had some semblance of control over your life.

Oh, well. At least you were comfortable.

Your door opened with a bang. You shot upright.

“Heya, toots,” Angel Dust greeted as he stepped inside your room. “Charlie wants us to…” he trailed off when he saw your face. “Whatsa matta?”

You blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”

His eyes roamed over your disheveled hair, your wrinkled clothes, and your unmade bed. “Nothin’, you just look a little…” he looked back up at your face. “Tired, is all.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What are you trying to say?”

Angel held up two hands in surrender, though his eyes kept scrutinizing your appearance. “Ya look like someone put you in a blenda and left the remains on ya bed,” he said bluntly.

You rolled your eyes and flopped back down on your bed, turning away from the spider demon. He was one of your closest friends here in Hell, sure, but that didn’t mean you wanted to stand up to take his insults.

You listened as his light footsteps approached you, but refused to face him even when your bed dipped to signify his presence.

A gentle hand began running its fingers through your hair. “Hey,” Angel said, his voice much softer than it had been mere moments ago. “Talk ta me. Whatsa matta?”

You wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch and lift yourself up so that your friend could give you one of his all consuming bear hugs. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to move any more than necessary.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “It’s just been a rough week. I’m tired, that’s all.”

Angel Dust chuckled softly. “Yeah, I get that. Trust me, I do.”

“I know,” you said, closing your eyes once again. “I wish I could kill that stupid moth for you.”

Your friend’s laugh grew louder, much to your content. “I know ya do,” Angel said, his hand still stroking your hair. “Thanks.”

You hummed in acknowledgment.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, enjoying each other's company in a way that you were so rarely able to do with the continuous angelic threats and Charlie’s new ideas for redemption.

Suddenly, Angel’s hand stilled. “Ya know what always makes me feel betta on a night like this?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Goin’ out for the night.”

Your eyes remained closed. “We shouldn’t get drunk, Angel, it’s against Charlie’s ‘redemption pathway’.”

You yelped as Angel gave you a light swat on the arm. “I didn’t mean it like that. We just gotta getcha dressed up and pretty, and the two of us can hit the town and have some fun without worrying about our fucked up lives.”

Truthfully, you were intrigued. You had heard stories about Angel and Cherri Bomb’s midnight outings before his stay at the hotel, but you’d never been able to experience one for yourself. Not because you and Angel weren’t close, of course, but because nights out like that meant risking everything that you had been working for here at the hotel.

You cracked open one eye. “No drinking or drugs?”

“None,” Angel promised. “Unless you’re feelin’ especially rowdy.”

You ignored him. “No killing?”

“Not unless it’s self defense,” Angel vowed.

You opened your other eye. “Just us?”

The grin in Angel’s voice was evident. “Just you and me, doll face. Not Charlie, not Husk, not anyone else. Just us. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

You sat up slowly, propping yourself up against your headboard and glancing over at Angel Dust as you tried and failed to hide your growing excitement.

The two of you hadn’t had a chance to spend time together without one of the other members of the hotel since a year ago, when Lute had come back down to threaten Charlie and everything that she had built now that Adam was gone. Ever since then, all of you had been extra cautious. All except Alastor, of course, but that was to be expected.

The last time you had spent any time alone with Angel, the two of you had stayed up all night trading stories, both good and bad, about your lives here in Hell and your lives Before. Ever since then, the two of you had been both inseparable and insufferable. You’d even been Angel’s wingwoman when he had asked Husk on their first date.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “That could be fun,” you admitted.

Angel’s smile matched your own as he jumped up from your bed. “‘Course it does. Come on, we’ve gotta get you ready.”

Your smile dropped as you suddenly remembered your haphazard appearance. “I’m sure I can find something to wear-”

“Uh-uh,” Angel interrupted, shaking his head in disagreement. “If we’re goin’ out, we’re gonna do it right. Meet me in my room and I’ll see what I can do.”

You watched as he walked out confidently, throwing you a wink before he disappeared from your sight. You huffed out a laugh and buried your face in your hands.

The two of you would probably get in heaps of trouble with Charlie later, but if you got to experience one of Angel Dust’s famous night outs, it was going to be worth it.

~~~

You smiled as Angel Dust carefully ran a comb through your hair. You hummed mindlessly as he worked, his attention focused on getting his work done as quickly and efficiently as possible.

He had already dressed you in an outfit made to draw attention, and transformed your face with a bit of foundation, eye shadow, and blush. The only thing left was your hair, which Angel was being surprisingly gentle with.

You closed your eyes as you silently enjoyed the feeling of the comb running through the strands of your hair again and again. It reminded you of Before.

After a few moments, you opened your eyes again, looking into Angel’s vanity mirror. “I’m not questioning your skills at all, but you’ve been brushing my hair for a while now,” you said with a grin.

Angel met your eyes in the mirror, a sly smile growing on his face. “You looked like you were enjoying it, sugar. Who am I to take away that pleasure?”

Your smile softened. “I was enjoying it, actually. Thanks.”

The demon winked at you before placing the comb down and getting to work on styling your hair.

“So, where are we going?” you asked, trying to contain your eagerness. “We can go to a club without drinking, can’t we?”

Angel snickered. “Don’t get too excited, toots. If we’re gonna behave tonight, we’re gonna have to avoid some of my regular places.”

“You’ve basically been everywhere in Hell,” you countered. “I’m not worried. We’ll still have a good time.”

Angel stepped back, two hands on his hips as he admired his finished work. “You bet your ass we will. Now get up so we can get this party-”

The door to the bedroom flew open. You and Angel whirled around to face the newcomer as Cherri Bomb sauntered in without a care in the world.

“What’s up, bitches?” she called out as she entered. “I heard we were throwing a party.”

You recovered quickly, grinning back as you stood with your arms outstretched. “Hey, Cherri,” you greeted as you gave her a quick hug.

Angel Dust was close behind, wrapping his arms around his friend before releasing her and slinging an arm over her shoulders. “You heard right,” he said as he pulled her further into the room. “We’re gonna have an all out, hard core-”

You cleared your throat.

Angel stuck a finger in the air and plastered a false innocent smile on his face. “And responsible night around town.”

“Hell yeah! I’m in,” Cherri said before looking over at you. “Angel and I know all the best spots in this dump. Get your arse up and let’s get moving!”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Angel said as he moved away from Cherri. “We were just gonna go out for a few drinks and some dancin’. Nothin’ too big. It was gonna be our night, ya’ know?” He hesitated before gesturing over to you. “Just the two of us.”

A stab of guilt tore through your chest as Cherri’s smile dropped. She was quick to hide it, though, pasting another grin on her face before waving her hand in indifference. “Whateva. Who needs you lot anyway? I’ll have my own night out and let you two know what you missed out on.”

As she turned away, you noticed the guilty grimace on Angel’s face.

You wanted nothing more than a day to spend time with one of your closest friends, but you knew that neither one of you would be able to enjoy your night with feelings of regret eating away at you. Besides, Cherri was another sinner who had always had your back and understood your past trauma. Why wouldn’t you want to share your night with her?

“Wait,” you called out before she could reach the door.

Both Cherri and Angel turned to face you.

You shrugged and gave a small smile. “The more the merrier, right? I bet three of us could cause a lot more trouble than just the two of us.”

Cherri’s smile grew. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about, bitches.”

Angel shot you a grateful look before clapping his hands together, a devious smirk growing on his face. “Alrighty then. Let’s get this party started.”

~~~

“How did you even know we were going out?” you asked Cherri Bomb as your small group staggered out of a bar. Your third bar of the night.

It probably hadn’t been the best idea to allow Cherri to create tonight’s itinerary, given the fact that you and Angel were two of the hotel’s best chances to prove that redemption was possible. You couldn’t say that you had ended the night with any regrets, though.

Cherri shrugged at your question and shot you a quick grin. “I always know when there's a party goin’ on. It’s like my special skill.” Her smile sharpened. “Well, besides being able to hold my liquor better than you lot.”

Angel shot her a wink as he draped an arm over your shoulder, gently leading your group back to the hotel. “Whateva’ ya say, babes. You comin’ back to the hotel with us?”

Cherri snorted and held her hands up as she backed away from you. “Back with Princess Redemption? Nah thanks, I’ve still got a few shots left in me. You two have fun, though.”

“Will do,” you said as Angel began leading you away.

“And let me know when the next party is,” Cherri shouted after you.

“We will,” Angel called back as he walked.

You looked up at him with a slight frown. “Are we in a rush? I feel like we’re rushing.”

Angel glanced down at you with a raised eyebrow. “What’dya ya talkin’ about?”

You looked back over your shoulder as Cherri disappeared into another building. “I don’t know. We’ve only been out a few hours, and we’ve only been to a few clubs. I thought-”

“You thought we were gonna go bat-shit crazy and ruin our progress?” Angel interrupted with a smirk on his face.

You laughed and shook your head. “No, I didn’t think we’d go that crazy. But I just thought…I don’t know. I guess I thought you’d want to spend more time with Cherri.”

Angel smiled. “You kiddin’? I love spendin’ time with her.”

“Then why did we leave so soon?”

Angel glanced down at you fondly, using his other hand to grasp one of yours so that you were walking hand in hand. “I meant what I said, toots. This is our day, you ‘n me. Sure, hangin’ out with Cherri’s great, but I don’t want you tryin’ to find happiness at the bottom of a bottle.”

You snorted, swinging your hands between you as you walked. “Happiness is me in my bed, Ange, not in a bar.”

Angel pulled you closer, his arm still around your shoulders. “Fair enough,” he said smoothly as he led the two of you back to the hotel.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a moment. Demons turned to stare, of course, and some stopped to take pictures. You were walking with the Angel Dust, after all. But even with the extra attention, the two of you felt a sense of peace that had grown almost foreign to you both.

“Did it help?” Angel asked suddenly, looking down at you as you neared the hotel doors.

You glanced up at him. “Tonight, you mean?”

Angel nodded, his expression apprehensive. “I know you ain’t like me and Cherri. You like havin’ some fun, sure, but…'' he looked away. “I know your limits are different. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

You smiled gratefully, squeezing his hand. “I’m fine,” you said softly.

And you were. It wasn’t getting out of the hotel that had helped, or even spending a few hours with someone with as positive a vibe as Cherri. It was the fact that your friends were so willing to help you, and the fact that you had finally been able to spend time with the first person in Hell to make you feel safe again.

“I’m glad,” Angel said as you walked through the doors of the hotel.

He led you straight to the stairs with a quick wave and a wink to Husk at the bar.

You laughed as he pulled you along. “Where are we going?”

“Ain’t it obvious?” he asked, a mischievous grin on his face. “The day ain’t ova yet. We’ve got one more thing left on the list.”

~~~

You snuggled deeper into the thick blanket surrounding you on Angel’s bed, scratching Fat Fuggets behind the ears as Angel Dust got comfortable beside you.

“What’d I tell ya’?” Angel asked as he propped his head on his hand. “Perfect end to a perfect night.”

You grinned and nodded, watching as Nuggs walked over to Angel and cuddled him.

Angel embraced his pig, petting him lightly as his eyes roamed over your face in mild concern. “You wanna talk about it?” he asked softly.

You averted your gaze. “Talk about what?”

Angel didn’t respond, his gaze heavy as he raised a silent eyebrow.

You sighed and looked back at him. “I love the hotel,” you said quietly. “It’s great. Really, it is. But sometimes-” you took a breath and closed your eyes. “Sometimes, everything’s just a lot. You know?”

Silence.

You opened your eyes when you felt a warm hand on your cheek. Angel was smiling down at you, his eyes warm. “Yeah. I get it,” he said with a small shrug. “But ‘ey.” He winked. “That’s what you’ve got me for.”

You laughed, moving closer and allowing Angel to wrap his arms around you and Nuggs. “And you’re the best,” you offered.

“Hells yeah, I am,” Angel murmured as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Get some rest, babes. I’ll be here.”

And so, you slept. You slept more peacefully than you had slept in a long, long time.

And when you woke, true to his promise, Angel Dust was right beside you.

He gave you a soft smile. “I told ya’,” he said, careful not to wake Fat Nuggets. “I’m here.

Always.”

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