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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 11 months

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Secret Lovers

Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader

Simon wasn’t someone who very willingly opened up to anyone, his teammates were no exception either, save for Price. It was always better to keep things quiet and let people assume what they pleased instead of trying to answer their questions. Better to remain mysterious than show your cards to the wrong person. a/n:this was originally started because of a snippet @thebeesatemyknees had written, thank you so much for letting me turn this into a full fic! I hope I was able to do it proper justice warnings:none, just tons of fluff Part 2

Simon wasn’t someone who very willingly opened up to anyone, his teammates were no exception either, save for Price. It was always better to keep things quiet and let people assume what they pleased instead of trying to answer their questions. Better to remain mysterious than show your cards to the wrong person. Johnny had badgered him from day one if he had a partner, going on and on about how much he loved his girlfriend. SImon wasn’t going to tell him anything, no matter what he’d keep his lips sealed.

Kyle was the next one to ask, though it was more in passing rather than a true and genuine question when he cornered the older man. They had been discussing mission details when the topic arose, did he have a next of kin? And if so, who would be the one to inform them if Ghost were to be KIA’d? He never asked Simon after that day, instead going on to different topics whether they had to do with the mission or what they wanted to eat. Kyle treated him like a friend, it was nice.

And John, well he knew all about Simon’s personal and very private life.

~~~

You were a new addition to the team, a medic that could stitch up a wound within a minute and get you back on the field within five. They were thankful to have you come around with them, helping stitch up a wound on Johnny’s arm, or cleaning up a gash on Kyle’s head. The only person who seemed to be a little wary around you was Simon, which both Johnny and Kyle felt odd. You fit in their group like the puzzle piece that was missing, and yet Simon acted as if he wanted nothing to do with you. Surely he’d warm up to you a little more, they were all sure of it.

“Thank you all for meeting me on such short notice. We’ve got word that an arms dealer is hosting a gala and we need to get more intel before we can swoop in.” Kate was a woman who took no shit and left no prisoners, she wasn’t going to risk this.

“Who do we want to send?” John was nervous, his men were trained for this, but putting them into a situation where they’d have to become someone else entirely? Nerve wracking.

“I was discussing it with Shepherd last night, and we’ve decided that Simon and Y/N will be going on this mission while the rest of you stake out the building.” All eyes suddenly shifted to Simon who looked calm as ever.

He’d forgone the mask for this mission briefing, knowing that only his teammates and Kate would be in the room with him. Knowing that you were going to be there made things a little more tense, could he handle something that dire?

“If you think that’s what’s best, I fully support the decision.” John wasn’t going to argue, Simon could be suave and charm the pants off of anyone if needed.

“Thank you, we’ll be heading out tomorrow and meeting up at the hotel. Promise me you’ll behave so no one suspects you, please.” Kate knew how much of a troublemaker that Johnny and Kyle could be, given the opportunity of course.

“I’ll make sure of it myself if need be, don’t you worry.” John smiled up at her, leaving Kate to wonder how much trouble there would be.

They would need to debrief you on the plane ride over, given that you weren’t even in the room with everyone. Having something like that just dumped on you with no time to prepare was the worst, how could they manage? Simon would just have John give you the rundown so he could worry about more important things, like how he’d have to act like the two of you were so desperately in love.

You would have an entire day to get comfortable in the hotel room, there would be a few people lingering so you’d get used to being stared at. Simon knew they’d mainly be staring at you, you were downright gorgeous. And with the clothes that had been picked out? A deep navy blue tux, with a pitch black button up and black silk tie. It perfectly matched the dress they’d picked out for you, a deep V down the front that left just enough to the imagination. The color matched his tux almost identically, the only difference was your dress was silk.

“They’ve packed everything for you to do your own hair and makeup, we don’t want you to stand out too much, better to blend in.” It was the smartest idea, if you or Simon were to attract too much attention things would end badly.

“Yeah, Kate told me as much as she could, I made sure to pack my best heels.” You were nervous, it’d been so long since you’d been able to go out to something fancy.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” John knew you were smart and quick witted, but something about this mission unnerved him.

“I’m positive, Simon and I will get the intel and get out before anyone even notices we’re missing.” You were confident everything would go smoothly, Simon could be silent if needed.

John nodded at you, settling back into his seat as the plan began to descend down onto the tarmac below. Simon was staring at you from across the way, palms sweating slightly as the time drew closer to getting inside the hotel. Johnny was going to see how nervous he was and make comments, he was sure of it. The sound of tires squealing brought everyone’s attention to high alert. It was time to grab your things and head to the cars, you were driving over with Simon, leaving the other three to their own car.

It was mainly to not raise any suspicion, if you were seen driving with any man that wasn’t your husband word would spread before you managed to make it to the party. You were absentmindedly playing with your ring, twirling the obnoxiously large diamond with your other fingers. It was a habit you picked up whenever you tended to wear jewelry, though it was much better than picking at your cuticles.

“You feeling alright hun?” Simon glanced over at you, though his own nerves were shot, he wanted you to feel comfortable.

“A little nervous, but that’s to be expected considering the circumstances.” You kept twirling the ring, glancing between Simon and the road ahead of you.

Simon took a quick breath and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together without skipping a beat or taking his eyes off the road. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, you had been waiting to see how long it took before he finally felt comfortable around you. You’d need to practice around everyone else if you were going to look natural around a bunch of strangers. Everything was going to be just fine, you were sure of it.

John had set up everything in the hotel room, along with hanging up your dress and Simon’s tux to help steam out any wrinkles if needed. So far there was nothing to worry about, save for Soap acting like a little shit and pranking Simon and Kyle for the most part. You’d all settled in, changing into comfortable clothes and ordering food so that you wouldn’t have to leave. Simon was cleaning up the kitchen so he could sit down and enjoy dinner with you.

“Do you need any help?” You walked over to him, pressing your hand against his lower back.

“Nah, just need to finish cleaning this plate and we can eat.” Simon smiled at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Whatever you say.” You patted his back gently, heading over to the small kitchen table.

Johnny raised a brow at how you and Simon seemed to naturally work with one another, he didn’t want to raise any suspicion. Kyle on the other hand was ignoring him entirely, digging into his own meal and scrolling through his phone. Simon had finally finished, grabbing his plate of food and heading over to sit with you. He could faintly hear that you were both discussing the mission and going over your alias’ one last time.

“Simon, you need to wear your ring.” You’d gotten on his case the entire day, he kept taking it off complaining that it felt weird to wear it.

“I’ll wear it during the mission tomorrow.” Simon brough the fork to his mouth, focusing on his plate rather than your raised brow.

“You say that now, but when we end up leaving you’re going to forget it and then we’re going to have to drive all the way back because you won’t wear your ring.” You had put yours on right away, mainly because you were forgetful and didn’t want to end up forgetting it.

“Are you really going to make me wear the ring all night?” Simon’s expression would normally terrify a recruit, but you’d gotten used to it.

“If I want to make sure you have your ring on? Yes, I’m going to make you wear your ring until we get back on that plane and go back home.” You’d glue it on if need be, but Simon knew better than to disobey orders.

John chuckled to himself watching the two of you, it was a dynamic he hadn’t seen in quite a while and it was pretty funny to witness. Johnny on the other hand was now even more flabbergasted at the way you worked together. Why did you seem so comfortable arguing with a man who’d killed for less? This was something sinister and it unnerved him to no end, he’d get to the bottom of this.

You’d offered to clean up everyone’s dinner dishes, carefully cleaning any knives before laying them on a towel to be dried by Simon. He walked over to where you were, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull your bodies flush together. Johnny’s jaw dropped open as he slapped Kyle’s arm to get his attention. The playful bickering was one thing, but watching Simon the Ghost Riley be so affectionate?

“Damn, he’s a good actor.” Kyle watched the way you and Simon began to sway gently, giggling at something he’d whispered into your ear.

“Scarily good, didn’t think he had it in ‘em.” Johnny shook his head, turning back towards the computer in front of him.

It wasn’t until the sound of someone kissing caught their attention once more. Simon had dipped you, lips pressed against yours as his arms wrapped around your waist. Johnny’s jaw dropped wide open, well if you weren’t together already that was surely going to change. You pressed your hands against Simon’s chest, laughing happily as you stared up at him.

“Cap, do ya think Lt and the medic are gonna get together after all this?” Johnny had high hopes, no one gets kissed the way Simon kissed you and simply part ways.

“What’re you talking about?” John barely lifted his gaze from the screen, typing up the pre mission notes to help catch up on them before.

“Simon’s practically tonguing the medic! He’s gonna woo her.” He waggled his brows at the older man, cackling when John rolled his eyes.

“Oh, yeah that’s not gonna happen.” John’s attention focused back on the task at hand.

Johnny’s laughing abruptly halted, what the hell had he meant that Simon wasn’t going to woo the medic, it was obvious! Clearly John had no idea what he was talking about, Johnny could see the little twinkle in your eye from across the room.

“Gaz, am I wrong or do ye think Ghost and medic are gonna end up together?” He was determined to get someone to agree with him.

“Oh, if they don’t I’m asking for her number for him.” Kyle may have had a slight crush on you, not that he’d ever admit it.

John sat upright in his chair, focusing on Johnny and Kyle who thought they were being more subtle than they actually were.

“Have you ever looked at their name tag by chance?” John wanted to see if the other two would finally catch on.

Both Johnny and Kyle shook their heads, neither of them had a reason to over analyze your name tag when they had injuries to be taken care of. He sighed softly to himself before glancing over to you and Simon. You were laughing at some bad joke Simon had whispered to you, a bright smile on his face.

“Her last name is Riley.” John watched as realization dawned on their faces.

You’d been married this entire time and no one, besides Price, was none the wiser. How the hell had you managed to keep it hidden from everyone? Then again Simon wasn’t the most overly friendly or affectionate when it came to anyone. You were his wife though, that was different! Surely you could bring out a different side of him, something that no one usually got to…of course.

“Would’ve been nice to know at least.” Johnny shrugged off his disappointment, this was a big thing to keep hidden away.

“It wasn’t my place to tell, just remember that.” John wanted to respect your privacy, it was the least he could do considering your line of work.

Johnny and Kyle understood why Price hadn’t admitted to questions about your relationship, but knowing the truth? It felt good. They watched the way you and Simon danced to the music playing from your phone. Simon’s arms were wrapped around your waist, pressing kisses all over your face as you tried to squirm away. It was a side of their teammate they’d never thought to see, and no one outside of this hotel room would ever get to see it.

At least, not until after the mission of course.

tagging: @gaylemonshark

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #simon riley fluff #simon riley fic #simon riley fanfic #john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kate laswell

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elliewluvr · 3 months

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sells 2 | ellie williams

pairing: drugdealer!ellie x f!reader

read part 1 to this series !

summary: ellie’s a popular known drug dealer who you just so happened to have a few sexual encounters with but what happens when you need to face her again?

content warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, drug use, flirtatious behavior, fingering, degradation and praise, reader receiving, a ton of kisses, rough sex, bondage, strapon sex

dont purchase tlou2! support palestine 🇵🇸

a few months went past, you and ellie hardly talking unless it was in class, sometimes passing eachother with a few hi’s and bye’s once class was finished. upon the sexual encounter you two had at that party, you couldnt find yourself being willing to be alone with her .

maybe you were pussy.. maybe you didnt want things to be awkward.. whatever the case was, you didnt engage nor bring up the situation that happened that night.

until you realized you were low on weed, the same weed you begged your roommate to buy from ellie so you wouldn’t have to see her by yourself.

the exchange went on for a couple of months, buying a great amount of weed from the auburn haired girl so you didnt have to ask your roommate to pick it up as often.

it wasnt until she told you last time that she could no longer do such things. you figured she gotten tired of it and understood considering it wasnt her responsibility.

after about 45 minutes of contemplation and mental preparation, you swiftly grabbed your phone, opened you and ellies convo.

you: hey, think you could sell 2 me tn?

in an attempt to distract yourself from the somehow embarrassing action you’d just committed you went into your kitchen, opened up the pantry and found the biggest bag of chips you find. you settled down on the couch, where you found the remote to watch some netflix to pass time.

hours had passed, and while you quietly giggled at your favorite show, rewatching it for the unth-teenth time, you kinda started to wonder why you were in this predicament to begin with.

and just as you remembered, the screen of your phone lit, dimly lighting the mostly dark room, since it was about dusk by now.

ellie: yea im not mobile rn but yk i can do a quick smthn 4 ya.

you froze reading the small black letters across your screen. quickly pausing your show, you picked up your phone, opening it up to the conversation where you re read the text. “do a quick something..like what? jesus fuck.” you scoffed quickly typing back a response.

you: uh what quick something did u have in mind?

a few seconds had gone by and your phone lit up again:

ellie: you think u can come to mine? shouldn’t be too far from your dorm

oh okay great so now you had to come to her. reluctantly, you agree. she sends her address and with a sigh, you slide on your shoes, grab your wallet and head out. it’s about a 10-15 minute walk to ellie’s place depending on how fast you walked. she lived on the edge of east campus and luckily you were right on the south campus so it was a some what decent commute.

when you arrive to apartment 210 with a quick knock to the door, your heart is beating out of your chest. not from walking so fucking far but from the anxiety that would entail you seeing her alone. in a drug dealers house. i don’t know why but the entire ordeal just seemed foreign to you.

maybe it was pussy of you to avoid her for months but who could blame you, the way she touched, kissed, and groped your soft skin that night sends shivers down your spine just from the thought. never in your life were you able to come undone so easily.

it was strange how good she had a lock on you and your mind, times where youd wanna text her a quick ‘come over’ just so she can recreate the scene from that bathroom at that god awful party. suddenly, the door cracked open.

immediately met by her low green orbs tinted a light pink from the joint she had rolled in the living room. she was in nothing but a white tank and gray sweats that hung dangerous low. you caught a quick glimpse before she interrupted with a, “wanna come in?” opening the door wider to let you in.

“oh yeah, of course.” you muttered walking into the apartment. the smell definitely hit you in the face once you were a good 5 feet into the apartment. ellie noticed your face when you caught a whiff.

“fuck, sorry. i just rolled so it kinda stinks a lil.” she apologized, grabbing stray laundry and random pieces of rolling paper as she walked through the hall leading to the living room. ellie swore she had tidied up a bit more. “please, you’re all good.” you smiled, reassuring her as you entered the living room, locating the sofa and finding a seat there.

“so what were you lookin’ to buy?” ellie asked, continuing to nervously clean the room littered in little baggies and black joggers. you pulled out your wallet, skimming through your cash and counting it all. “uh, how much can i get with sixty three dollars and forty nine cents?” you grinned, nervously giggling, cash in hand. ellie smirked, tilting her head to the side, “maybe 3 grams? but for you i can make it a little more.” she teased.

always with these “but for you’s”, jesus.

“what do you mean, ‘but for you’ ?”, you asked, doe eyed and curious like a puppy. ellie sorta tensed for a sec, but quickly played it off. “you’re just cool, i dunno. also you helped me with studying so, fuck it why not? i mean if you wanna pay full price no objections here, heh.”

you forgot all about the studying session you had with her, ultimately ending with her fingers back in your cunt, massaging your spot over and over again until you were sobbing and knocking the test books onto your pink rug in your dorm.

giddy and chattering like a highschool girl, ellie was talking for what seemed like days before she quickly smiled and stopped in place to tell you “i’m gonna go in the back and uh- grab the shit. stay here.” she scurried off. “nah ima go back home” you muttered under your breath and rolling your eyes, a small smile forming as you opened your phone, looking for something to scroll through. twitter seemed to be your saving grace that day, slowly scrolling through cute pictures and occasionally dumb memes posted by those god awful accounts you followed back when you were 14.

ellie stepped back in, baggie in hand and you anxiously started counting your money again just to make sure you had exactly sixty three dollars and forty nine cents. “and how much was it again?” you asked, bills in hand, ready to do your drug deal like big girl. “erm just thirty five.” she quickly said, trying to draw focus away from the obvious price reduction.

“thirty five? for allat?” you questioned, thinking maybe she grabbed one bag too many. “yeah it’s good, babe don’t sweat it.” she brushed it off, sitting on the sofa next to you. you took your cash counting up three ten dollars bills and a five. handing it to her, you felt her rough palms brush against your comparably soft ones and you swore you memorized every detail on her hand. the little scar right below her thumb, her knuckles bruised a bright pink and the start of her tattoo which travelled up her forearm.

after ellie handed you your baggies, she commented;

“we kinda match.”, she smirked, looking down. you were confused, what was matching? at first you tried comparing the color pallets of each others outfits, but you were wearing green and black which didn’t seem like a match to her grey and white. after you sat in 5 long seconds confusion, she clarified, “your tattoo?”, she gestured down again noticing the butterfly tattooed on the forearm holding the weed.

“oh- yeah um. i noticed yours, it’s really pretty but isn’t that a moth? mines is a butterfly.” you quipped holding up your arm to hers for a full side by side comparison. “i mean yeah, but- erm, it’s like a sun and moon kinda thing. you know like yin and yang i guess?” she terribly explained but you caught on. “what so i’m the sun?” you asked, a finger lightly grazing over her arm, tracing the details. “suppose so.” ellie responded, doing the same to your arm in turn, her finger now connecting the dots of your tattoo as well.

“and you’re the moon?” you asked again

“nah dina is.”

“very funny.” you smirked.

“yeah well i try.”

you had no idea you were even this close to her until your ridiculous lesbian banter had ceased. noses inches away from each other, hands on fore arms and eyes locked, like if you stopped looking at her you’d die instantly. after a comfortable silence you started, “hey i uh, actually can’t roll. do you think you can help? or atleast just show me so i know how.” you giggled, shaking your head at the embarrassing question. “awh, poor thing. yeah sure, i’ll teach you pretty girl.” she smiled grabbing a baggie, opening it and pouring its contents onto the tray that sat on the coffee table in front of her.

you were lying, you knew how to roll but just wanted to find a reason to stay there a bit longer. a reason to end up back in her arms. a reason to have her lips back on yours. i dont know, fuck. you just wanted to be back with her.

“alright first off, you wanna grind your shit, obviously.” she started, knocking you out your thoughts once again. she carefully went through each step, making sure you were paying attention throughout. “eyes on me, pretty.” is all she would say whenever she caught you wandering off, fantasizing about how her hands would feel wrapped around your waist, keeping you still while she-

fuck.

“im paying attention, i promise.” you smiled again, focusing on the blunt she was beginning to roll. and god when she did it, it was fucking perfect. watching the muscles in her hands contort to her will, something about it made heat begin to pool at the bottom of your stomach. when ellie was finished, the blunt sat perfect between her two fingers offering it to you.

“this is really stupid question but do you wanna..smoke it with me?” you asked, eyes locked onto her again. “fuck, you mustve missed me or something, pretty.” ellie remarked, eyes still low from the joint she had before. “should you ever be so lucky” you responded, before asking, “you got a lighter or..?”

—

half a blunt later, your shoes off and your eyes are dangerously low, tinted a hot pink from the fat blunt ellie had graciously rolled for you. you and her sat on the sofa, watching girl, interrupted, one of ellie’s favs. you were carefully finding moments to glance over at her sitting next to you, her arm behind you resting on the sofa. yours thighs are touching but that’s about the most contact you’ve gotten all night.

a little relaxed thanks to the weed, you laid your head onto ellie’s lap. thank fuck you were high because no way you’d even try this shit sober. ellie peered down at you before saying a gentle, “you okay?” you hummed in response and that was enough for ellie.

sitting in the silence doing nothing but watching this movie made you so surprisingly comfortable. like you didn’t need to constantly talk to ellie. simply being in her presence was enough. something about her that just instantly calmed you. god you had such a crush it was pathetic.

instinctively, ellie rests her hand on the small of your waist, before rubbing it gently, being careful with her movements as she knew you were faded, “is this okay?” she asked, looking down at you who were comfortable resting in her lap.

“it’s okay.”

“it’s okay?”

“it’s okay”.

ellie carefully rubbed the area where it previously rested, giving your waist a little squeeze before gently rubbing it back and forth. god she could lull you to sleep if she really wanted to. placing your hand on top of hers, you methodically intertwine your fingers into her own, holding her hand while it rests on your waist.

“y’know my first dates usually don’t go this good so this is a nice change.” the green eyed girl softly muttered, eyes glued to the tv. “this is a date?” you peered, heart skipping a beat. “you’re in my house, lying on my lap, watching a gay fuckin movie with me on my couch. and we smoked. yeah, babe, this is a date.” she quipped smiling softly before peeking down at you, stealing tiny glances herself, constantly staring as if she’d forget what your face looked like if she couldn’t get a good look every 5 minutes or so.

you hummed in response, lightly tracing her strong knuckles with your thumb, “okay, maybe this is a date.” you giggled, rolling on your back to get the perfect view of her from below. her jaw, clenched tight while she chews on her pouted pink lips. you noticed every freckle on her face, every tiny scar; even the one right on her eyebrow that caused a little slit. you marveled at the girl, fascinated with her.

“like something you see?” ellie’s smirked, low green eyes now locked on your deep brown ones. hesitant, you respond, “possibly.” and smiled, head tilting while you flirted with ellie for probably the sixteenth time that night. “how uh, possible would you say it is?” she quipped. “like percentage wise?,i’d say like a good 73% chance.” you told her, finding her hand again to gently grab it.

“what’s goin’ on w’you n my hands?” she asked, smirking at the sight of you fidgeting with with her bruised, slender hands. “considering they were in me. i like em, they look nice.” you felt your face start to warm up from the sudden word vomit you let slip out due being too high to care. ellie perched an eyebrow, her grin growing revealing her pearly whites.

“you know where they’d look even nicer?” ellie question, now running her free hand through your hair. “mm?” you asked with a hum?

ellie softly released her hand from your grip, carefully moving it up to your face to caress your warm cheek, gliding her thumb in small, soothing little circles. she hunched down to get her face closer to yours and when she was close enough she answered;

“back deep inside you”. her hands moved to hold both of your cheeks with just one hand. you laid there in shock, pussy clenched thinking of how deep ellie’s slender appendages would fuck into your wet core until you were nothing but flesh and bone. you felt your whole body warm up, before you said, “i know they would.” you softly said, lifting your head up to get even closer. before the two of you knew it your noses were inches apart from each other again, eyes locked.

and you knew the second that ellie pressed her soft lips into yours, you were fucked.

her lips were so soft against yours, her dominance genuinely taking over once she leaned forward to initiate the kiss. god her lips felt so good, making you bring a arm up to wrap it around her neck, fingers grazing her scalp a bit as you dug fingers into her hair that fell right above her shoulder blades.

your eyes were shut tightly, mind a bit foggy from how her hands quickly went up from your waist to grab ahold of one of your tits. her calloused palms gripping the flesh before pulling away. you let out a soft whine in response, not wanting the kiss to be over. “take these off.” she demanded, referring to your green joggers that you slipped on upon hearing that she was gonna sell to you.

quickly sitting up, tugging the spandex material off of your legs while ellie on the over hand watched. her eyes trailing from your soft thighs to the black panties you had on. you always made sure to wear a matching set no matter the circumstances. she noticed this, taking a liking to how you always wanted to keep yourself put together. her hands readjusted you so you were now on her lap with your back to her, her slim but the long fingers grabbing ahold of the hem of your panties to slip them down your legs before tossing them aside and pushing your thighs back towards her.

“keep these legs open for me, babe. dont let me have to tell you twice.” her raspy but smooth voice let out into your ear, making you nod and whine a bit upon her sudden demands. you never seen ellie so demanding before, the controlling and dominance she was asserting made you shiver ontop of her. whats gonna into this girl?

she placed a hand between your thighs, palming your pussy for a little while before rubbing her middle and ring fingers through your pussy lips, your breathing hitching as you whimpered softly in her touch. this made her lips curl in a smirk, laying a long peck in the crevice of your neck.

you couldn’t help yourself, holding your legs open for her while furrowing your eyebrows once she began rubbing your clit in moderate paced circles, being sure to wrap her arm around your waist from behind to keep you pinned to her. the feeling of the pads of her fingertips rubbing your sensitive clit made your legs tremble, soft moans leaving your lips ever so easily. you felt your hips buck up towards her fingers, wanting as much attention between your thighs than before.

she caught onto this, biting her bottom lip as she watched before landing a slap onto your pussy, “dont get greedy, let me build you up to that first.” she said, making you squeal upon feeling of the gentle spank on your cunt, your back arching in response.

a couple of seconds passed, your moans growing louder once her fingers slipped in a bit effortlessly. “look at that babe, your pussy is molded in the shape of my fingers.. they fit so perfectly in you.” you moaned in response, mouth slightly agape while you felt her almost immediately push her fingertips up against your spot, “els!” you moaned out, gasping once she sped up her fingers.

you and her both watched in awe, your thighs trembling and twitching each time her fingers hit that spot that had you squeezing your eyes shut while being tempted to close your legs. she smirked once again, pushing her digits deep into you before flicking her fingers back and forth in a ‘come here’ motion.

“yeah? does it feel good? talk to me, pretty.” she said, making your mouth fall open and head fall back onto her shoulder, “yes! dont stop.. ‘feels so good ellie!” you moaned out, eyes shutting as your core began to tense. ellie hummed in response to you, knowing how good she had you feeling considering your pussy was clamped down onto her the second she let her fingers ease into you.

“kiss me.” she said a bit above a whisper, your head turning in her direction to immediately be met with those green irises on you. she stuck her tongue out to slip it into your mouth, a eager but ultimately sloppy kiss igniting between you two as she continued her movements with her fingers. her curled fingers hitting your spot over and over again until you pulled away from the kiss.

“im gonna-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence without a long moan dragging from your throat and to ellies ears, making her smirk, nod, and use her free hand that was around your waist to rub your clit quickly. “let it out, dont hold back for me.. let me hear you scream babe..”

you gripped onto your thighs tightly, freshly manicured nails digging into your plush skin as you let incoherent words drag from your lips while you came undone on her fingers for the third time now. you trembled, feeling her take her soaked fingers out to raise them to your lips. “suck.” she demanded. you wrapped your lips around her digits, looking into her eyes at the same time as you sucked your juices clean off her fingers, making her furrow her eyebrows and bite her lip at the sight. “fuck..” she mumbled to herself, pulling them out to kiss you once again. the taste of you still lingering on your tongue.

ellie pulled away for a moment, making sure you were okay upon sitting you back onto the couch. you were still a bit shaken up from the oh so good orgasm you just had, shakily reaching for your panties as ellie stood from the couch, “oh, you wont be needin’ those.” she said, making you raise a eyebrow a bit confused, “ what do you mean?” you asked confusedly before watching her crouch down in front of you to pick you up off the couch.

her muscles making it easy to just scoop you up and off of the cushioned seat, you squealed a little, wrapping your arms around her neck in response, “i got you.” she said, chuckling a bit at your reaction before pushing her lips back against yours.

the two of you made your way out the cloudy living room and towards the hallway that led to her bedroom, ellie occasionally tripping over a few items she had forgotten to pick up due to the rushed invitation into her home, using a free hand to grab the wall to keep the both of you steady. she smirked against your lips once she reached her room, tossing you onto the mattress before pulling her white tank top over her head.

you watched, deciding to do the same to your black crop top and bra, now completely naked for her eyes to travel your body for a few seconds. this sight making her practically wanna take a picture and put it as her lock screen. “so fuckin’ pretty, just a second.” she said, dominant hand softly rubbing your inner thigh before turning around to grab her stool near her closet, stepping on it to reach up and grab one of the plenty shoe boxes she had on the shelves.

you laid there patiently, still oblivious as to what she was searching for but not for long once she pulled out something that resembled a harness and another object that you just couldn’t quite see due to her back being turned. ellie on the other hand placed both of the items in one of palms, finally turning to face you to reveal what she had.

a strap. a fucking strap.

“think you could take this?” she asked, walking back towards you before sliding her joggers and underwear down her legs. you nodded, “mhm..” you managed to let out, eyes trailing down her body to her pussy and muscular thighs that still remained slim but was there for you to see.

god, how perfect her body looked.. her muscles and abs flexing as she attached the dildo to her harness, the auburn haired girl looking up from the activity to meet your eyes that was practically glued to her. “like what you see?” she asked for the second time tonight.

“absolutely.” you said sassily, rolling your eyes before letting a laugh pass between your mouth as you were laid back on your elbows, looking up at her, “i bet.” she said with an smug expression over her face, clipping the last buckle of her strap onto her waist. she climbed up onto the bed alongside you, grabbing your ankles to flip you over on your stomach. you let out a breath once your face hit the pillows. ellie adjusted herself, getting comfortable between your thighs.

“you look so fuckin’ good from this angle, babe.” you heard her let out, making you whine in response while your pussy immediately clamped on nothing upon the feeling of her rubbing the tip of her strap between your wet slit. “do you want it? let me hear how you want it baby.” she said, smirking as soon as she heard you start to beg.

“please, i want it so bad el’s.. need you in me..” you whined, pushing your hips back towards her a few times before feeling her land a rough slap on your ass, making you gasp and squeal from how your right ass cheek stung. “say it again, pretty girl.”

“please fuck me.. please ellie, i want you so bad.” you said, looking back at her with furrowed eyebrows and low eyes from being both still high and now horny. she hummed at your words before pushing the silicone into you, gasping from being stretched open. you gripped onto one of the pillows, immediately attempting to push yourself forward once you felt it hit your cervix.

“dont fuckin’ move..” she said, grabbing your hips to now stroke into you, her waist hitting your ass repeatedly as she pretty much rolled her strap deep in your cunt. you let moans pass between your lips while you sat up onto your forearms, ellie grabbing your hair in her fist as she started to speed up.

your head was yanked back, jaw slack, and body trembling once you felt the silicone graze your spot, eyes rolling back from the way she fucked you. she wasted no time to make you putty in her hands. “good girl.” her raspy voice spoke, earning a moan from you.

you gasped loudly upon feeling her start to hit that spot head on. your fists gripped the sheets, trying to once again push your body forward to get it to stop, your ego couldn’t allow yourself to cum so quickly.

“what did i say, hm? thought you said you could take it? what happened?” she asked, placing her free hand on the small of your back while biting her lip to keep her from moaning herself once she could feel how tightly you were clamped down on her.

ellie was thrown out of her complete bliss, noticing the headboard that was slamming against wall roughly due to you trying to get away. “nope.” she simply said, pulling out of you roughly to get back off of the bed.

“and dont you fuckin’ move, i got something thatll stop all that moving.”

you fell down onto the pillows in front of you. your body was shaking and you were trying to catch your breath, just based off of the fact that you pissed her off, you refused to move even the slightest. ellie was frustrated, knowing that she had neighbors and couldn’t have you flailing all around her bed, she stepped back up onto the stool to grab something else from the box.

you glanced back to get a view on what she was getting, only to see something that looked similar to red ribbon but due to her starting to turn around, you readjusted your gaze rather quickly. ellie got back on the bed, landing a harsh slap on your ass, “arch. what the fuck are you doing?” she said, face scrunched in irritation.

you obeyed her, whining once you felt your other cheek begin to tingle from the blunt force, this time it being more forceful than the one that she previously gave you. this made you a bit nervous considering that you could tell she was no longer the sweet quiet drug dealer you sat next to in class.

you felt the auburn haired girl pull your hands back with one hand, using her more dominant hand to tightly wrap the red ribbon around your wrists, making you whimper a bit, “i asked you if you could take it, didnt i?” she asked, being sure to tie the ribbon tightly like a boy scout just incase you even ATTEMPTED to break free from it.

“yes.. its just that it felt so goo-“ you started, getting cut off by her tying a bow after making the bond tight. the way she tied it quickly had you wondering if this wasnt her first time. who else was she fucking as to where she knew exactly how to tie bondage so quickly and easily on you. you were cut from your thoughts by her slipping back into you.

ellie took in the sight, biting her bottom lip before placing both of her hands into your deep arch to start her strokes back up. her hips curved each time she pulled the strap from out of you. your whimpers and moans filling the room as your face remained in the pillow, eyes rolling back in awe.

“fuck! e-ellie.. mmph!” you let pass from your throat and into the pillow, eyes rolling back from the feeling of her hitting your spot repeatedly making you try to reach for her waist. “oh yeah? take my fucking dick. take it, babe.” ellie let out before raising a leg up, foot flat on the mattress while she pinned you down into her dark grey sheets.

“you thought i didnt know what you were doing? you know how to roll, you just wanted me back deep in your cunt again. isnt that right?” she asked, thrusting her hips into you deeply while watching your ass ripple each time it hit her waist. you couldnt even form a sentence, drool slipping from your mouth as you grabbed at nothing.

your moans getting more breathy and short. ellie sat her leg back down before letting go of your waist to wrap a hand around your throat, pulling you up to her chest. her strokes were still deep and quick, making you whimper, “answer me, babe.” she said, making you incoherently say, “yes!”

she smirked, stroking her silicone dick into your spot while not even taking the time to let you breathe, the sounds of your moans, wetness, and skin slapping filled the room along with the occasional noise of the headboard hitting the wall. your eyes rolled back once again, her tatted hand reaching down to rub your clit before gently squeezing your throat and slamming her hips into you.

you gasped as your body began to spasm, eyebrows furrowing, and core tightening all at once. ellie caught onto this, a snarky look written across her face, “youre gonna cum pretty? youre gonna fuckin’ cum for me, hm?” she asked you, laying a few pecks onto your cheek. you whined, the whine fading into a moan, “yes.. im gonna cum! ‘gonna cum!” you cried out.

ellie’s strokes picked up significantly faster. “give it to me, give it to me babe.. cum on this dick.” she whispered in your ear, applying pressure onto your clit before rolling her hips into your spot. your back arched deeper than before, moans growing long and louder as your chest rose and fell, eyes rolling, and pussy clenching and unclenching over the silicone inside of you.

she took her time, slowing down her pace to rub your clit through your orgasm. “good girl.. let it all out.” she said, wrapping her arms around your waist to hold you close to her as you came down from your high. your body was weak, falling slumped in her strong arms that gently massaged you.

you felt yourself relax in her touch, looking back at the red haired girl before feeling her lay a few pecks onto your lips. “you did so good for me..” she whispered softly against your lips in between pecks.

your breathing was still uneasy, ellie slowly laying you down onto the bed and in return having the dildo slip out of your messy cunt, untying your hands to lay soft kisses over you now red wrists. a ring of your creamy orgasm at the base of her strap, making her stand to grab a towel, wiping it off before tending to you.

your eyes was heavy, blinking getting slow before you began to doze off. the auburn haired girl wiping you clean before unsnapping the harness off and crawling back into bed with you. her hands shifting you gently to lay overtop of her, pulling the cover over you twos naked frames.

“goodnight babe, sleep well, pretty.” she mumbled softly, being sure to not to wake you in the mist. she laid a gentle peck on your forehead before shifting to turn off her bedside lamp, wrapping her arms around you and slowly falling asleep with you.

—<3 hope you enjoyed reading part 2 to sells! more to come soon!

part 3!!

direct link to my master list!

#black writers #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie tlou2

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angelisverba · 2 years

Text

kryptonite

in which y/n smokes weed (sometimes) and she thinks her dealer is super cute, and harry always gives her a little extra because she’s sweet

word count: 8.2k

pairing: plug!h and y/n

warning: if you are uncomfortable with the use of drugs, please do not continue reading!! i DO NOT want to see any messages in my inbox that talk of ‘glamourizing’ this drug. if you don’t like it-> don’t read it. mentions of bullying, peer pressure,

author’s notes: the second and final part to this fic will be posted next week, feb. 02 at 8am pst.

* * * * * * *

Harry hated parties.

Admittedly, they were a third of his source of income, but unless it wasn’t a gathering exclusively composed of his close circle, he didn’t want anything to do with it. They were too loud and sticky, messy and smelly. Red solo-cups littered at every available corner, half filled with Coca-cola, vodka, and the occasional sad, cigarette butt. Scantily clad girls and ‘discreet’ boys that didn’t know how to read body language that clearly screamed ‘I’M NOT INTERESTED!’. It just all got his nerves because half the time he knew they were only using him to get reduced prices on the marijuana he spent ample time on growing.

He tried, as a general rule, to limit his reluctant, brooding attendance to parties he knew would only consist of Mitch, Sarah, Adam, and the handful of other friends that just wanted to have a good time and a nice snuggle on a cramped couch that rumbled with intoxicated laughter. He liked being in a crowd he knew, it was much more intimate, less pressure-filled. He didn’t have to maintain that ‘polite’ air that was socially required in an atmosphere of people he didn’t know. No niceties or complimentary. When it was just him and his friends, all of that ‘quiet’ and ‘please, thank you’ shit wasn’t necessary. He could jump straight to his affectionate, giggly, sprawling-all-over-everyone’s-lap self, and no one would question it because they know it’s what he preferred.

But, at a big house party like the one where he was at, where everyone knew him as The One Guy Who Sells The Good Shit, Harry had to pretend to be polite and quiet and small, and adopt an overall stiff persona that made him prickly and cold. This wasn’t him. He didn’t like this, and wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for his very convincing friend Mitch, who noticed that business was slow and assured him that he was bound to 1) ‘sell a shit-ton’ and 2) gather a handful of new clients once they realized that what he had to dispense was pretty good quality for a subjectively cheap price.

Mitch had been right, of course.

The small black backpack of goodies that Harry had brought to this inconspicuous function had been empty in less than two hours, and he’d repeated his number enough times that it started to feel forgein on his tongue. Once or twice, a few girls had flashed him what could be called ‘bedroom eyes’, but he wasn’t in the mood to get his rocks off. When he came with a purpose to sell, any need, want, or hope for sex flew out of the window because then he ran the risk of girls thinking their ‘connection’ entitled them to some sort of discount on weed, and he didn’t particularly fancy ruining his post-coitous bliss with the awkward exchange of rejection that followed their questions.

Plus, it made him feel used.

A good three hours have passed, and he’s about to tell Mitch he’s ready to leave when his line of sight is snagged on the diamond image- no, a beautifully deceiving mirage, because there’s no way this girl is real. Not when she looks like a ditzy sprite, a walking mermaid, a glimmering fairy, a heart-wrenching siren, and any other bewitching, ethereal creatures that stole men’s souls upon the first breath they took in their presence. She looked like one of his psychedelic hallucinations that whispered sweet things to him and played with the ends of his hair when he’s in the lull of shrooms, brought to life. Grounded, real, and three-dimensional, not just in the airy, green-leafed recesses of his muddled mind.

This pretty little enchantment that caught his eye had floated into the room on two clumsy, shoddy-sneaker covered feet that extended from bambi-like legs with knees that were almost comically knocking against one another. She walked slanted, her shoulder pressed against her friend’s, whom Harry might have been able to recognize as Sarah if he spared his gaze, but that was impossible. So, he thought to himself, this is how magnets work? Even if he wanted to, he knew he wouldn’t be able to dislocate his line of sight from the socket it had carved itself into. Her cheeks, rounded with laughter and smiles, were dusted with the telling, glimmering sheen created by alcohol, and her eyes were bright, shiny, and starry from the handful of lamps that lit the living room. The slope of her waist, semi-shrouded deliciously from the billowy fabric of her powder blue summer dress (he couldn’t fucking believe she was wearing a dress when it was windy outside. Did she not care for her health?) and it made him think of the marvelous illusions created from marble. He was fond of going to museums and staring- for hours, at times- at statues of women draped in silk that were replicated with such precision, it was almost as if the wind was right there, rippling against the tantalizing figure of the unidentified female, so much so that an man was inspired to share his tortured vision. In solid form, nonetheless.

It made him wonder what the artist could see in real life. What they envisioned the model to be like underneath the heavenly fibers that twisted and turned restlessly with running air, preventing a clear grasp on the body underneath. Spurred to the point of such desolation, left with a hunger to resurrect what their mind’s eye consumed in physical format to live on forever and torment anyone else who looked.

He understood then. Understood that hunger and want for more.

She spun prettily like one of those ceramic ballerinas in a golden music box owned by children of important people, and that damn dress was both too loose and too free, moving around her with a protective fluidity from hungry, lovelorn wolves like him. He can’t hear her clearly because he’s too far away, but the snippets of her laugh that his ears manage to funnel down to his eardrums sound like a fairy’s tinkle.

She is a dream. Head thrown back before she replies with such enthusiasm and a strange half-lucidity that it has him leaning in to try and hear the drunken words that escape her soundless lips. He’s stuck in a moment of frozen time with her and only her. There’s a pinch behind his sternum when her head moves in his direction, and a strong titanic-worthy sink when she stops before even reaching his gaze. The words of some pop song from the early 2000’s skim cheesily through the background of his brain like a lonesome draft. Where have you been all my life?

Tunnel vision, he believes it might be called.

Next to him, Mitch bumps his shoulder, shattering his dangerously sharp focus with mumbled words that Harry doesn’t quite register with complete comprehension because they sound warped, as if they were spoken through a thick layer of glass or from underwater.

“What?” He blinks, his eyes stuck on her but his head rotated enough to the side that his friend knows he’s listening. He’s afraid that if he stops looking, or even blinks, she'll evaporate into thin air and he’ll spend the rest of his life wondering if she really was a mythical being conjured from his second-hand high.

Mitch clears his throat and hides a knowing twitch of his mouth beneath the rim of his drink, “I said her name is y/n.”

Harry, distracted and oblivious, is unaware that Mitch caught on to the focus of his attention, asks, “Who?”

This time, he can’t help but huff a chuckle, “This girl, H. Her name is y/n. She just started working with Sarah. Sarah says she keeps to herself, but there’s been a bit of… bullying, so she invited her out for a good time.”

“Bullying?” A faucet of anger opens in his major arteries and replaces his blood with a river of internalized rage. Bullying? Bullying her? His head whips around with enough speed to crack the vertebrae in his neck, and his thick brows furrowed with a fierce expression that would scare anyone that looked at him then (Mitch being exempt because he knew there would be no harm coming from that look). “What do y’mean bullying?” He spits the word out like it tastes foul.

Mitch takes another sip from the red solo cup, taking time to compose his face before continuing casually, “yeah. Y/n’s new, sweet, and quiet. Sarah says the others at work think that she’s their personal coffee runner or something. She tries to help her when she can, but she's not always around ‘cause of meetings or whatever.”

Harry sucks on his teeth and shakes his head, twisting again to observe y/n with mooney eyes, bitterness still simmering within him at the treatment she receives at her workplace. Especially when the smile he was so fortunate to witness made him taste caramel and honey and peach nectar and all of the sweet treats that traversed through his esophagus when the munchies hit. It warmed him to finally have a lovely name to attach to a lovely name.

Y/n. It settled nicely in his inner monologue, and he wanted to speak it. Test it on his tongue to see if it molded his lips as nicely as he imagined it would. It fit her, he thought. Y/n. Weirdly, Harry itched to throw it casually in a conversation with her. An exclamation. A wheezed whisper in the middle of a breathless laugh. In a greeting. In a goodbye. To grab her attention. To console. It was ridiculous! He didn’t even know her but he wanted, badly, for this party to transform into one of the more comfortable ones he had with his friends. For her to sit next to him on the couch his arm around the space behind her as she leaned into him unconsciously as the conversation continued. To grab her bicep in a nervous giggle when he stumbled after one too many. To share a bowl of chips with her (lime was his favorite, but he would eat barbecue flavored ones- his least favorite- if they were hers).

“Whose-”a burp, “motorcycle is blocking the driveway?!”

A clearly drunk male slurred from the front of the house, an arm raised as he swayed in a half-assed attempt to grab everyone’s attention, the drink in his hand sloshing onto the carpet and Harry winced, half from being startled and half from the suddenly stiffness that came with several pairs of eyes landing his way.

“Sorry, mate. That would be me.” He raised a finger in the air and bent at the waist to deposit his unfinished drink on a low black coffee table by his knees. He shrugged, rolling his lips into his mouth and turning to Mitch with his shoulders lifting with the beginnings of a hug, “‘was just gonna leave, anyway.”

“Early night, H?” Mitch mumbled, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek while embracing his friend, the ghost of a laugh lingering in his nasal passage. Harry’s cheeks turned a light pink and his nostrils flared in his attempt to hide his smile.

“Yup.” Harry returned the kiss, his nose digging onto the scruff of Mitch’s cheek, tickling him. Stepping back from their show of affection, he patted his palms against his thigh to make sure he had his phone and keys, and tugged the strap of the small backpack on his shoulder to verify it’s presence.

Mitch resumed his leaning position against the door frame, hand in his pocket, “alright. Text me when you get home.”

“‘Course.” Sparing one last glance in the charming sprite’s direction as he said his final goodbye, he was devastated to find that she had, in fact, disappeared, just as he’d feared.

He almost stayed to find her and watch over y/n like some sort of guardian angel, but he didn’t have the guts to go up to her. He hadn’t even finished one drink, so liquid courage wasn’t there to help him, not when he had to ride his motorcycle home. He almost asked Mitch to keep an eye on her for him, but it wasn’t necessary. Sarah was with her, and therefore he’s already watching her.

And from the comforting, yet teasing, twinkle in his friend’s eyes told Harry everything he needed to know. He knew that he was well on his way to cracking his head open over his heels.

Their friendship had always been one of little words.

******

Harry’s been delivering weed for a while now.

What started as a side hustle to obtain much needed income when times were tough developed into an interesting near full-time job with amazing results and benefits (he got to smoke weed for free now, since he grew it himself, but there was always that whole ‘don’t get high off your own supply’ rule, so he did limit himself). He had thought that he would have trouble attaining customers, but word spread like wildfire amongst his close circle of friends, which all happened to be free spirited individuals that harnessed the powers of nature, and then their friends, trusted friends, and so on and so forth.

It got to a point where he needed a separate phone for dealing alone because the ‘rush hour’ would meddle with his personal texts, leading to frequent ‘wrong person’ texts, and he traded his crappy car for a decent motorcycle so he could get to drop-off locations quicker. The added ‘badass’ effect also stroked his ego, so it was a wonderful bonus.

But the annoyance of being interrupted in the middle of something like, let’s say… an episode of Hannibal with a warm bowl of buttered popcorn in his lap always came in the same frustrating amounts.

Like now.

The Netflix screen pauses on Mads Mikkelsen’s face, spouting some bullshit about a tea cup, when his phone dings with a new notification. The sound is a specifically selected ‘ding!’ that is different from his personal phone so it’s easier to differentiate the purpose of the incoming message, and a rumbling groan vibrates from the back of his throat. Throwing his head back against his beat up, brown leather couch, Harry slams his hand around him until his ringed fingers click against the sleek device, and it automatically lights up as he brings it up to his face.

Unknown Number: Hi! Mitch gave me this number and said I’d be able to buy some pre-rolls?

Fucking Mitch. He often passes the number off to his buddies at the record store he works at. The dude started typing again, and the grey bubble with three dots wiggles at the bottom corner of the new text chat. Harry waited.

Unknown Number: If it’s too late for you, I understand.

It was, in fact, too late for him. But, money was money. He technically wasn’t doing anything important, so he would go and deliver to this-

Unknown Number: My name is y/n, by the way :D

Not a dude.

Fuck.

Not a dude.

The popcorn went flying off his chest and spilled all over the floor as he jumped up from his seat. Fuck. Y/n? Y/n with a smiley face. The girl from the party? His heart came to a stuttering stop, screeching like tired on asphalt breaking at a high speed as he came to the realization. The girl has haunted him like a stubborn will ‘o wisp for the past week was texting him. Albeit, it is for a service, but it was still something. The marijuana aspect of his situation didn’t bother him. He sold and consumed, it would be hypocritical of him if it did. Besides, she was an adult. She could do what she liked.

His jaw is on the floor, his eyes popping out of his head and he can’t believe what’s happening to him at that moment. He’d kiss Mitch on the mouth next time he saw him. It’s not until he sees the grey bubbles appear and disappear quickly again that he remembers the normal, usual response to this kind of situation is to type back. With trembling fingers, he pressed on keys, tapped on the backspace button, and repeated those motions several times because he had no idea what he was supposed to say- no, what was right to say to her. He had a standard response when it came to people who wanted to buy from him, but sending her prewritten message in his notes app that consisted of a short, perfunctory greeting followed by a menu-structured list of what he had available that day and their prices. There was no way in hell he’d send that to her.

Harry: Hello! It’s not too late for me to deliver. What can I help you with?

Unknown Number: Mitch mentioned that you offered a 2 for $35 deal?

Unknown Number: Is that still available?

Harry did offer a two-joint for thirty five bucks deal. Pre-rolled joints in cherry rolling paper about as long as his middle finger to the halfway point of his palm, semi-thickly packed with a hybrid blend of the two Mary-Jane plants (Sativa and Indica, none of that Maui Wowie, Blue Dream, or other strains; he liked to keep it simple) he had in a specially insulated box in the garage attached to the house he rented. It was his most popular sell; decent amount, excellent high, excellent trip. But… two? Was she smoking with someone else? Or was she saving one for a later time? He didn’t think she was the type to smoke two at once, but then again he didn’t know her, so her reasons were unclear to him.

However, if he arrived at her location and she was with someone (a male, specifically) his night would be ruined, because then that would mean that any marginal chance that he had with her was out of the question. And he couldn’t ask her right away because they hadn’t even properly met yet, and that would be weird and rude. That didn’t help his overthinking tendencies, and in a matter of seconds, Harry was sitting at the edge of his couch, popcorn crunching underneath his butt as a frown settled on his handsome features. Jaw set, lips puckered in contemplation with a pinch between his drawn eyebrows that casted shadows over his emerald eyes. He looked menacing, and his smattering collection of tattoos didn’t help either.

Or his motorcycle.

Or the intimidating stigma that came with his title of ‘plug’.

Stubborn as he was, this look of ‘don’t fucking talk to me’ would stay with him for the rest of the night, all because he couldn’t restrain himself from coming to incorrect conclusions. He didn’t know if y/n had a boyfriend, if she was with a friend, or if she would even be interest in him, but the sour thoughts that she did have a boyfriend and wouldn’t be interested in a ‘lowlife’ drug dealer loomed over him like a murky, stormy, thundering clouds.

He sent his response and changed her contact name.

Harry: I do!

Harry: Did you want to see the rest of the menu or are you set?

He knew he was being short with her. His messages were missing their customary smiley faces, the extra exclamation marks, the occasional x’s and o’s. He didn’t even type with capitalized letters, but in order to refrain from diving even further into this hole of hope, he decided that the change in his style of grammar would help him become emotionally distant. He just couldn’t bring himself to add them while he was in a stubborn, self-induced slump. While he looked angry, glittery butterflies beat their cellophane wings inside his ribcage and shook magical glitter onto his intestines, making them warm and queasy.

Y/n: I think that’ll be all for tonight

The causal mention of ‘for tonight’ gives him hope. That implied there would be other nights, and even though he’s currently grumpy because relationships are fucking complicated, he wanted to see her again and again.

Harry: Send your address, please.

She sends her location.

Harry: I’ll be there in 15 minutes.

Since he’s already half dressed in black jeans and a white Fruit of the Loom t-shirt from his earlier afternoon deliveries, he only has to part the crystal bead curtain in the doorframe of his living room to grab the leather jacket hanging from a bright yellow coat rack besides his door, and the backpack that he left in a slump besides his shoes (already packed with goods). He doesn’t think twice about the popcorn that’s scattered all over his floor and couch or that the Netflix “are you still there?” screen blinks black when he picks up his keys from the hook next to his door.

The garage opened when he pressed the button inside the kitchen hall, and he stepped out through the side door leading to the space where he kept his motorcycle. The owners before him had left a shit-load of junk that had taken up most of the space, and with their permission, he sold and threw most of it away. For the most part, it was empty. A bench, some boxes, and the white-refrigerator like rectangular box underneath the worktable along with his ride were the only things in there.

Grumbling and pouting like a petulant child, Harry clipped on his black helmet, flipped the visor down with two slender fingers, and dropped the backpack into the compartment attached to the backseat. A button on his keys closed the garage door behind him as he kicked aside the stand and swerved with a screech onto the road, the night air wrapping around bare throat as he cut through at a higher velocity than was surely legal on a residential street, but he didn’t see it as a crime when the heart was involved. He could picture himself explaining to the officer that pulled hi over in a hypothetical situation, that he was on his way to deliver drugs to the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and the officer nodding solemnly at his noble cause.

Totally realistic.

Cars honked when he cut them off abruptly, and he gathered stares from the handful of people that were still wandering along the streets, spilling out at random intervals from bars. He had to cut through bits of the city to get to where she lived, and the three red lights that stalled his perusal were lucky that they were government property or else he would have damaged them in a severe fit of impatient rage. He tapped the tips of his shit-colored vans against the road and clenched his ringed fingers around the handlebars, engine roaring with pending release. He should have grabbed leather gloves, he thinks, if not to impress her, then at least to keep his fingers warm because it was an especially chilly night.

Harry’s pulling up to a brick building in exactly fifteen minutes. There’s fire escape ladders trickling down the side, and cement stairs leading up to a brown oak door with a thin window pane slightly left ajar while a burning yellow light seeps in a long bar across the steps like a satin ribbon. Several windows are bright with light from the inside, and the spare streetlamps that cast a spotlight on the sidewalk make the street unsettling, like someone is hiding in the shadows extending from tree trunks. Harry doesn’t like it one bit, and he hopes y/n isn’t walking these streets by herself at night.

He’s simultaneously taking his helmet off and reaching for his phone in his back pocket when he hears her small peep coming from the door.

“Hi!”

And then, she’s all he can see, hear, think. She’s just as absorbing and hypnotizing as the first time he saw her, even though she’s standing in what is clearly pajamas. A long, sage knitted sweater that ends at the tips of her fingers and just above her knees, making her look like a leafy blob. Black sweatpants that are just as loose and baggy shadow the faint silhouette of her legs. Y/n is fiddling with her fingers, picking whatever color nail polish paints her nails (Harry can’t see because he’s too far away) and it makes him want to soothe her hands with his own. She’s tugging her bottom lip between her teeth and she probably doesn’t even realize that her eyebrows are furrowed and the bunch on her brow-bone casts comic-like shadows across her pretty little face.

Stupidly, because he can’t think of anything else to say other than ‘hello’ but he thinks that’s lame, he clears his throat and says, “how’d you know I was here?”

“Your… uhm- your motorcycle,” she points with a finger to the machinery beneath his bum. He’s leaning against it, not wanting to intimidate her by crowding her space in a dark-ish place but he doesn’t realize it actually makes him look very intimidating and ‘bad-boy’ looking. Especially with the leather jacket, “was kinda loud.”

“Mmm,” he hums his acknowledgement, because at that last corner he had purposefully revved the engine more than necessary. To impress her or to sate his devilish tendencies, was unclear. The space between his collarbones feels like it’s inflating and deflating with every rapid pulse of his heartbeat, and for the first time in a while, he doesn’t know where his ‘game’ is. He feels lame, at a loss for how to act around an angel when he was nowhere near her level. Hell, did this count as corruption of her innocence? He was selling her drugs for fuck’s sake.

At this realization, a heavy, sticky, nasty weight slathers itself all over his back and it can only be described as guilt. Should he be selling her weed? Should he even be morally conscious at this point? He sells weed to teenagers when he’s sure they aren’t narcs, but this wasn’t some zit-faced twerp.

This was y/n.

A few seconds of silence pass and she’s just staring at him, her lips rolling like there are words she's holding in and Harry staring at her with a closed-off expression, thick chocolate eyebrows furrowed deep in concentration because he’s memorizing every curve of her face to look back on when she wasn’t with him anymore. It’s after her first intake of breath with her mouth open that he snaps out of it and twists hurriedly to yank out the pink baggie with shiny red cherries printed on them. His current special, though he saved the decorated packaging for his closer group of friends because he knew it made them happy and he loved seeing that smile on their faces, but he wasn’t going to tell her that (and secretly he hopes it might put a dent on his irrational guilt).

“Here are y’cherry joints,” he holds it out, pinched between two fingers and his lips are a hard line as his heart beats out of his chest because- oh, god} she’s stepping closer and she smells really good and-

“‘Kay, uhm…” She takes the bag from him and mentally, Harry curses because she chooses to cup the underside of the bag and that wipes all chances of their fingers accidentally touching. She won’t meet his eyes, she’s shifty on her feet, and he doesn’t know how to tell her not to be nervous without sounding like a creep, “I’ve n-never done this before, and Mitch didn’t say if you took cash or Venmo so I brought my phone and wallet because I wasn’t sure which one you preferred.”

His heart goes through the life cycle of a dandelion. It blooms, yellow with happiness and new life breathed into his seedling soul by the sound of her voice, and transforms into the wispy tufts that fly away, ditzy and twirling from her sweet breath. All the while she holds him in her hand, smiling.

But all of these feelings are hidden away under his mask of self-preservation, writhing and squirming like worms. He gives away nothing, his eyes looking a little dead even though the in-between space where his head meets with the nape of his neck is damp with nervous sweat and he remains stiff and lazily posed against his motorcycle because he’s sure if he didn’t have that support his knees would knock together and sound like the cue ball hitting a winning shot in an empty pool hall.

Carding his hand through his unruly curls, he realizes that he should’ve styles his hair before leaving the house or foregone the helmet entirely, not caring about dying because first official impressions should be killer, and the extra harsh cut in his British drawl when he rasps, “cash is fine,” has to do with his own annoyance.

Y/n is flustered, evidence of that clearly sprawled all over her cheeks and base of her throat which he can see even in the darkness. She lifts the front end of her sweater with a paw-hand and Harry’s insides explode. Her phone and folded dollar bills are squeezed between the band of her bottoms and bare skin of her stomach. For just a second, the beautiful second in which she plucks the money from her body, he catches sight of a white, lacy bra-band that looks glorious while backdropped by the plane of her abdomen. He discovers the meaning of life and death, and wishes for a bit of both because this is torture.

The back of his mouth is drier than the sahara desert. Two tender fingers give him Holy ten and five dollar bills, and her angelic voice sings, “thank you,” when he takes it from her like a beggar.

Harry is an asshole because he can’t even respond with words only a hum of ‘mhm’ before swinging his leg over his ride and muttering a half-hearted, choked, ‘see you’ before roaring away.

****

He tries to invalidate his rapidly growing crush. Truly. He wants to brush it off his shoulder like dust because it’s annoying and distracting to constantly think about her, but nothing works.

In retrospect, he was even psychologically rude about it, trying- and failing- to find negative qualities about her or flaws in her appearance, but his fawning heart wouldn’t allow such disrespect to the receiver of it’s pesky little affections. The worst he could come up with was that her eyes looked as if some snot-nosed, uncoordinated, messy little kid had shaken an entire bottle of glitter onto a piece of copy paper and called it a day. And that her voice was soothing enough to coax that same child into comfortable, cow-jumping-over-moons dreams.

He wishes he were that hypothetical child rocked to sleep by her lulling voice because by the way things were going, he’s having a pretty hard time getting a wink of sleep because every time his phone vibrates he snaps straight up like his spine is locked and obsessively searched his phone for her name. And he’s tried putting his phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ but it only makes it worse because what if he texts her and he doesn’t see it because he’s sleeping?

All of the customers that came after her, during his period of constant surveillance over his ‘trap phone’ received the best delivery times and the snarkiest attitude he’s ever had to offer. The morning sun isn’t as bright as it used to be and the moon is dimmer than usual because nothing can compare to her. He misses her terribly and it’s stupid because he doesn’t even know her and she probably thinks he’s a jerk because he acts like such a dick.

Mitch thinks it's funny that he’s so twisted about a girl. ‘A’ girl because even though he was high when he spilled his secret to his friend, he doesn’t think he could stand a potential breach of his privacy in the case that Sarah found out.

“I haven’t heard from her in a while,” Harry said.

“Do something about it,” Mitch said.

And well, what the fuck was he supposed to do? It’s not like he can reach out to her to ask her if she wants to buy more weed. That would seem greedy and insensitive on his part; a money hungry dealer. He’s already in a limbo of moral dilemmas that shouldn’t exist in the first place and he doesn’t want to complicate it by any form of shady communication.

His dilemma, however, was solved by whatever divine being that dared to bear witness to his nonsensical pleas to the ether. It seemed as though she favored the night and dark for her ‘picking up’, because the delightful ding! came at the thirty minute mark of his tossing and turning.

With the sheets rumpled around his waist and his templed damp with faint beads of perspiration, Harry straightened in the same way he has for the past month, only the tedious exhaustion of it not being her was begging to gnaw at him. Was this what it felt like to be paranoid? Snapping alert at every single indication of a phone because you think it’s the IRS- or the girl who infects your mind, in his case- calling to demand a service?

Preparing for disappointment again, Harry picked up the phone and squinted as his pupils adjusted to the sudden change in light.

Y/n: Hello, Harry! This is y/n. You delivered to me last month? Are you available for delivery at the moment?

There is a muted thud as his phone slips out of his shocked hands and lands on the rumpled duvet. A thundering set of drums replaces his beating heart and his jaw remains slack because it has lost the ability to close. The perspiration on his hairline transfers to the cave of his hands. For weeks he’s been in a constant state of glum, waiting for her next text, and now that he has it the only thing going through his mind is oh my god, oh my god.

Still, through his haze he manages to reply with,

Harry: Hi!

Harry: Yes, I remember, and yes, I’m available

What he really wanted to say, and what he should have sent was, how could anyone forget you? You haunt me day and night. But that was a little obsessive, and probably would have scared her off before they even got anywhere.

Harry: Would you like to see what I have available?

Y/n: Please :D !

The pre-written list of items he has available changed this week. He’s added some chocolate edibles, brownies, and gummy bears that he picked up for a cheaper, wholesale price at the dispensary he frequents, and it makes him wonder if she’ll dare to buy them. He had one a few days ago at Mitch’s place with Sarah and has a smashing time. He couldn’t stop petting their cat, Texas, because the feel of her brown fur between his fingers was heavenly.

Grey bubbles appear and disappear several times along with his intake of oxygen before a long text appears, listing everything she wants from his makeshift ‘menu’ and… it’s a lot. The last time he received an order like this it was for a frat party that one of Mitch’s coworker’s friend’s brother referred him to, and it took him an entire week of rolling and baking to get his inventory back up. His kitchen smelled like weed-butter for a solid month.

Harry: Give me a moment to make sure I can sell you everything. Pretty large order…

The chipped black paint on his nails became a dark blur as his fingers typed, deleted, and typed uncertain words over and over again before finally settling on a sentence that was… neutral and didn’t send the wrong meaning. Usually, with his customers he was a mixture of blunt and friendly, but y/n wasn’t just a customer, and it made everything ten times harder.

Y/n: I’ll take whatever you have, please! Take your time, I don’t mean to stress you out

If she said please one more time, Harry was sure that he would become a liquid, coagulated version of himself among the mess of his blankets.

Jerking his ankles free of the fabric snake that snared him to a useless bed, he clambered off, knuckling at his tired eyes and shivering as the cool, still air of his room wrapped itself around the warmth of his body. Reaching into his closet for the first things he finds, a dark green hoodie and grey sweatpants, Harry yawns and dramatically stretched with his arms way above his head, hoping that the movement would push out the feeling of loneliness that was beginning to take purchase between his ribs, right underneath his heart.

Another late night, another delivery. He wished there was someone in his bed to call him back. Please don’t go, they’d say, the bed is cold without you in it. A warm hand trailing like a ghost against his thigh as he walked away, and a sleepy smile or groan of displeasure as his goodbye. He might not stay in the bed, but he would be happy- no, elated, to know that he would be coming back to someone.

The grow light of his makeshift greenhouse tinted his skin purple as he rummaged through all of his pre-rolled and pre-packaged items, his phone at his side as he checked off everything she has asked for.

9 of the Cherry Deals

6 of the citrus-infused pre-rolls

4 lavender-infused

10 brownies

And 2 8ths

In total, it came out to 28 joints.

Which is… well, a lot for just one person, or two, or three (unless you’re Snoop Dog or something). Packing everything up into four separate paper bags, and then a larger white bag so that she isn't filling with all of the smaller ones, he types out another cold text.

Harry: Okay I have everything.

Harry: Send the address, please.

She sends the address, and Harry follows the same routine as the last time, nearly eating shit as he flew out into his garage. Excitement bubbles in his guts at the same increment and volume of his motorcycle’s initial purr. Flipping open the back compartment he usually stores things in, he realizes that there is no way it’s all going to fit inside, so he turns on his heels to grab a backpack from inside and then he realizes that he’s not wearing any shoes. The smooth, grey floor is cold against the arches of his bare feet, and his brows furrow at his own insolence. Had he been so wrapped up in… everything that he didn’t put on shoes?

Rolling his eyes at his own actions- and feeling a little embarrassed that he’d let it happen- Harry returned to his home and snatched up the first pair of fashionable compatible shoes within his reach (green converse the same shade of his sweater) and the backpack to place the white bag in ( a little redundant, but he didn’t think holding it while he rode would be a good idea). Rushing back to the garage, he hoped that he wouldn’t come up empty with words like he had the time before.

The last thing he wanted to do was scare her away.

***

He was right about it being a party.

At least three minutes before he was flipping down his kickstand, the thundering bass of some rap song (he thinks he can hear ASAP Rocky, but he’s not too sure) shakes the streets and the trees. It’s a house party in a building that was too big to fit into the word ‘house’, but yet too small to fit in ‘mansion’. Toilet paper and trash litters the front yard while couples make out and loners smoke cigarettes, or maybe joints, out on the generous porch. Sports cars and beat up rides pack the driveway and most of the street in front of the house, so it makes it really difficult to station his motorcycle in an area where he has a clear view of who’s coming in and out of the house, and therefore, really hard to spot y/n.

That is until-

“Hi, Harry!”

She’s sitting down on the curb with her arms around her legs and her chin on top of her legs, looking… scared. Her eyes were blown open like a newborn doe, and the sprawl of her limbs as she unravels from her sitting position to a wobbly stand mimics the shaky, knocking knees of a filly that is learning how to walk for the first time. Her voice is even headier than it was the last time he heard it, like windchimes in the spring chill.

Harry’s eyes roam over her with no attempt to conceal his blatant appreciation for the fuzzy sweater falling down to her mid-thigh. They seem to have become a pattern with her. This time, it’s a baby blue crew neck and a pair of jeans, and y/n’s has tried to tie her hair up into a bun at the back of her hair but spiky pieces stick out the back and tendrils swap her ears, making her look like a soft, smudge-y dream.

“Hello,” he says softly, not needing to clear his throat this time. He steps forward a bit, so he can hear her better (or at least that’s what he tells himself), “s’good to see you again.” Harry’s words are louder and more amicable than the last time he greeted her, and his lips part in a crooked friendly smile which she returned with the same tentativeness. There’s something off about her this time around. She’s pulling at her sleeves and shifting her feet, glancing over her shoulder as soon as she’s standing straight and her eyes won’t stand still on Harry’s figure for more than a few, burning seconds.

“It’s good to see you, too! I hope I’m not waking you up every time I text, though,” an exhaled laugh left her lips, and she dropped her gaze down to her shoes. Y/n rocked on her feet, once and then twice. “I think I’ve… I’ve made a habit of texting you late at night.”

And he blushes, “I- uhm… I was having a hard time sleeping, so you didn’t wake me. It’s fine.”

If only she knew that he was having a hard time sleeping because his subconscious was a bothered brat over not seeing her again. Pleading words of requests to ask her never to stop texting him were dancing on the tip of his tongue, banging against his barricaded lips and begging to come out. However, he didn’t think such daring words were fitting with their barely budding relationship. They were pitiful and needy, like a puppy, and frankly, Harry didn’t want to present that image.

“Oh,” she stilled her movements, checked over her shoulder again and then looked him in the eyes and said, “are you okay?”

“M’fine, yeah. Just got a lot of you on my mind at the moment,” he says. It makes y/n furrow her brows and tilt her head at him like a little cat, only then that he realize what he has said, “Things! Got a lot of things on my mind. Sorry,” he clears his throat, looks away while hanging his helmet on the handle of his ride. “Haven’t been sleepin’ much.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. That sucks,” y/n pouts. Pouts at him. And he just blinks. Doesn’t smile or laugh.

“S’alrigh’. Y’got quite a large order this time. Havin’ a party?” As soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to slap his palm against his forehead. He probably sounded stupid, given there was clearly a raging party going on in the house behind her. Of course she was having a party, what he should’ve said what ‘what are y’celebrating?’ or ‘are you here alone?’. Like the ‘do you have a date?’ kind of alone.

“You got it right? Thank you. And… something like that, I guess. I’m a bit nervous, honestly, because I’ve never…” She shrugs, looking away from him and back to the house.

“Never been to a party like this?” He’s confused. Surely he can’t mean that she’s never smoked before? Right? Because if that were the case, then what did she do with the weed he gave her last time? And what was she doing at a party were they were on this much drugs.

“No! No, no, I’ve never… smoked before.” She’s adamant in shaking her head. Her hands too, splayed wide like jazz hands.

“Y’never smoked before? What about last time?” Harry hates how it sounds as though he’s accusing her, but he can’t seem to control the way his words are coming out of his mouth, not around her, and it’s making him look like a dick. What he wants to do is smile and tease her, to find some way to ask her if she would like to share a joint with him without sounding too sleazy.

Shaking her head, “those were for my roommate and his boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Harry’s heart pitter-patters in his chest, his mouth in a straight line, and although there’s an abundance of emotions elbowing against the other in his chest, he shows none of them.

“Yeah,” awkwardly, she shifts her weight from heel to heel, arms crossed before reaching into her pocket and bringing out a folded wad of cash. “$540, right?”

“That’s right, but…” C’mon man, he scolds himself, pull it fucking together. This is a concerning situation. Surely she can’t be buying this much this time and not plan on participating. “Are you gonna be a’right?”

Worrying her lips between her teeth, she lets out a deep breath before answering. Smiling and nodding as she answers as if she wants to convince herself, “I think so. How hard can it be?”

“Pretty hard if it’s y’first time, sweetheart,” Harry forces himself to smile a little, but instead it looks as though he’s grimacing. “Will y’friends walk y’through it?”

Y/n looks back at the house again, and shuffles her feet. She’s got a sad little look in her eye, droopy and shy. Great. He was making her uncomfortable. “They’re n-not really my friends,” she says, “but I guess so.”

What? “What?” The word is sharp in his mouth. What the fuck was she doing, then? Hanging with people that she didn’t look all that enthused to be with, buying their weed, standing out here all alone?

“They’re not-”

A male comes out of the house, red solo cup in hand, and he’s not wearing a fucking shirt. He’s waving a hand in the air, trying to flag y/n down Harry assumes, and he’s offended for her. Harry’s brows furrow and his hands curl into fists behind his back. Why isn’t he wearing a shirt? What the fuck is he drinking and why is he being so disrespectful interrupting their conversation this way? All for some weed?

Now on the last step, the guy shouts, “Y/n, what’s taking so long?”

The poor girl jumps, startled, and her eyes go wide. “Sorry, I’ll be in soon!” Y/n shoves the money at him, frazzled, and takes the paper bag from his hands. “Here's $560, Harry. The rest is a tip. You can count it if you’d like!”

“It’s alright, here you-” she’s already bounding away from him, but he doesn’t want her to go, and somehow, he finds the will to call her back. He just wanted her to look at him once more, because she wasn’t even inside yet, but he missed her gaze. “Y/n!”

She stops, and he gets exactly what he wants. Her attention. “Yes?”

Harry swings a leg over his motorcycle and gets ready to leave before he does anything stupid like… like trying to hold her hand or something. Who knows, he lost his ability to act his age around her. “Have a water bottle at your side,” he’s mumbling almost, “and don’t take too much in on your first try. Exhale and don’t freak out when y’start coughing. Or embarrassed. It’ll be okay. And… and do y’best to relax.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

And y/n smiles at him.

It’s small, and it’s meek the way a feral kitten approaches a human with food. Scared, and rightfully so, because Harry wants to scoop her up and take her home.

“Of course. Have a safe night.”

She nods and walks away with another piece of his heart in her hands.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles smut imagine #harry styles fanfic

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simmerandwrite · 6 months

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Sink Into Me - 09 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size!reader

Pairing: mob boss! Steve Rogers x plus size! reader

Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate.

Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.

Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.

Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09

Wordcount: 11k

Warnings: angst, allusions to dog fighting (but no mention of any kind of abuse), smut

Notes: here we go!! I have so much to say but I'll summarize it with a big thank you!! to everyone who read, reblogged and followed along for the journey. y'all made this so much more fun! can't wait to hear your thoughts!! and while this is the end of Sink Into Me, this universe may stick around for a while. a few more notes on this at the end ;) thank you thank you thank you! enjoy!!

“Hi,” you said quietly, meeting his eyes in the low light streaming in from his lamp.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, scanning you for any signs of distress.

You shrugged, taking in a deep breath. Then Steve took a step back, waving his arm to invite you in. You released your lungs slowly, nodding and following him inside. Wordlessly, he climbed into the bed and offered the open blanket to you, arms wide.

You just nodded again, crawling under the comforter and finding a spot - your spot - underneath his arms.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you pulled away from him. A strange empty laugh escaped you.

“I can’t believe… an hour ago… I was being held at gunpoint. That’s crazy. Isn’t that crazy?” The whole thing suddenly hit you like a ton of bricks, all of it. The ambush on your way home, the brute force, the cold rain, the gun.

“Sweetheart..” Steve sat up the same way you did.

You shook your head and shuffled to the side of the bed and planted your feet on the floor, sitting there as you caught your breath.

“Hey, hey. Just breathe, okay?” He scrambled off the bed, coming around the kneel in front of you. With one hand, he reached out and placed it on your knee. You dropped yours onto his and squeezed it. “I’m.. baby, I’m so sorry.”

You closed your eyes, taking in a few deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered your name, brushing his thumb against your knee. “I’m sorry for everything. Ever since that day.. On the street, outside the restaurant, just by saving me - you had a target on your back and it’s my fault. I hurt you and put you in danger and it’s my fault.”

The silence washed over you both again.

Steve continued, quieter. “Is there anything I can do or say right now to help you? I know you’re probably scared and I can’t fix that but… your well being, that’s all that matters to me.”

You exhaled and opened your eyes. “I.. I’m hungry.”

Steve blinked. “Uh, okay. Sure. I can order a pizza or we could..” His lips twitched into a brief smile. “How about grilled cheese?”

—

Truthfully, Steve wasn’t always stocked up on the basics but this time he was grateful for what few groceries remained in his fridge. There was a strange silence as you headed to the kitchen. Steve got to work grabbing what he needed for grilled cheese making while you sat at his small dining room table.

Hercules followed you closely, finding a new place to sleep at your feet.

You fiddled with the tag of the tea bag in your cup of chamomile, quiet. The frying pan sizzled.

“Steve?”

Your voice drew his attention away from his task at hand. He turned. “Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the fire? At, uh, your mom’s clinic?”

He stilled then turned back towards the stovetop. He flicked off the element and plated the sandwiches, joining you at the table. He slid a plate across to you.

“I would have, eventually. I didn’t want to scare you,” he finally replied, biting on his lip before he continued. “There was a street gang making a big mess in Brooklyn years ago now. In this type of work, uh, gangs usually coexist. Not always peacefully, of course.”

You took a bite of your sandwich and watched Steve carefully.

“This particular group - called themselves the Red Skulls, led by this absolute menace Johann Schmidt.”

“Oh,” you tipped your head to the side, nodding. “I think I remember hearing about him in the news a few years ago.”

“Probably. They were fucking messy. Schmidt was a piece of work especially. There are a lot of things I do not tolerate in my city and he crossed a very serious line.” Steve rolled his neck. God, maybe he shouldn’t be telling you this. But what did he have to lose now? Honesty was all he had left. “Long story short - we took down one of the Red Skulls trafficking operations. They were kidnapping sex workers.” He took in a sharp breath, eyes closing at the resurfacing memories. “Ma looked after everyone we helped escape and Schmidt retaliated by setting fire to the clinic...”

And Steve had been at some fucking club that night. Volleying between shots of liquor and lines of coke, he nearly missed the most important phone call of his goddamn life.

Steve lost himself in his downward spiral of thoughts as memories of his mother’s recovery flashed through his mind. When he came back to reality, you were looking at him. There was a strange sadness in your eyes.

“That wasn’t your fault, Steve,” you said quietly, tearing off another piece of your sandwich.

He laughed, shaking his head. “The people I care about, the ones I love - you, included now - there is a target on their back, on your back. Forever. I pushed you away and for what? They still..” He dragged both of his hands down his face, head shaking again. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. For.. everything.”

You blinked again, then looked down at your plate. “When you called me and broke up with – that day. What you said to me, it was so careless and..”

“Mean?” Steve finished for you. That’s what you had said. He was mean. No, he had been worse than mean. It was cruel and he had done it on purpose.

“Yeah. Why couldn’t you just be honest? If you care about me so much, how could you say those things?”

He wasn’t sure if he should answer, if he could. But you were looking at him and waiting.

“I don’t know,” he replied quietly, leaning back in his chair and gazing out towards the window. “Because I wasn’t thinking straight. I was emotionally compromised. Natasha barely talked to me for weeks after that night. That was another constant reminder that I really fucked up..”

You sighed. After a few beats, you finally found some words. “What do we do now?”

He looked back at you. “I know I hurt you. I think about it every single fucking day and I can’t undo it, I wish I could undo it.” He took in a hard breath. “I can’t even ask for you to forgive me because it isn’t fair. Not after tonight. Because after all this, how could you ever?” An empty, somber laugh rumbled through him. “I’m just.. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could press reset.”

The silence hung between you both again. You finished your sandwich and looked back at Steve.

“I’m tired,” you said softly, stifling a yawn. “Can I.. sleep beside you?”

Steve nodded. “Of course.”

–

You woke up the next morning in Steve’s bed, alone. Somewhere far away, probably in the kitchen, you could hear him on the phone. With a deep sigh, you got up and put yourself back together.

Hercules trotted towards you as you departed from Steve’s room. You followed him back towards the kitchen where Steve had put a modest little breakfast together. He ended his phone call when he saw you, then joined you at the table with a pot of coffee.

Your conversation was minimal. You briefly panicked as you recalled the fake meeting Ward had arranged for you with Hammond, but Steve was quick to tell you he had dealt with it.

Eventually, after your quiet breakfast, you asked to return to your own apartment. Steve insisted on driving you there and walking you to your door. When you got to your building, you noticed an additional security guard posted near the front desk.

You wondered if Steve had something to do with that.

When you got to your door, you opened it and let Hercules in before you turned to Steve.

You didn’t know what to say. You weren’t sure what was supposed to happen now. Truthfully, nothing felt real.

You felt numb.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” Steve asked, tipping his head just slightly to search your face. “If you wanted to stay at a hotel or–”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure. I’m just tired. I’m going to take the rest of the day to try and clear my mind.”

“Well, if you need anything at all, call me. Please.”

You hesitated. What were you and Steve now? Friends? Exes? Something more? Something less? You couldn’t figure it out and you were too scared to ask. What did you even want with him?

“Did you unblock my number then?” Your lips twitched into a momentary smile.

Steve didn’t smile back. He was serious and for a second, you watched as he hesitated to reply too. “Of course I did. I never should have..” He closed his eyes. “Call me, anytime. For anything. If something ever feels wrong or someone..” Releasing a long breath, he met your eyes once more. Your name left his lips, quiet, like a whisper. “I can’t figure out what else to say other than that I’m sorry. Again. I just.. I wish I could fix everything and erase what happened last night and.. I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life.”

You squeezed his closest hand. You didn’t know what to say. You raised yourself up slightly onto your toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Then you disappeared into your apartment.

You called your mom that afternoon. And while you didn’t give her any details about what had happened in the last 24 hours of your life, you found it necessary to still call her and tell her how much you loved her. She didn’t ask why you were reaching out or question the way your voice cracked, but you knew she was concerned.

The rest of the day, you slept on and off. Eventually, you ordered in for dinner and forced yourself to sit with the feelings you were wrestling with. What was it? What was going on?

Were you scared? Yes, sure. Even though the incident had been isolated and specific, even though the men responsible were either in custody with law enforcement or being kept directly underneath Steve’s foot, you had reason to feel unsettled.

How could you deal with it though? Enough rational thought brought your heart rate down enough to strategize if anything ever happened again. Pepper spray on keychain, maybe one of those spikey keyrings that doubled as defense weapons.. A self defense class? Maria told you she had taken one before and she found it empowering. Maybe you needed to feel empowered, too.

It was strange though, as you let your mind fester over your feelings, one constant helped keep you steady and walked you back from your edge of anxiety. Steve. When you felt unsafe, Steve had helped you, protected you, saved you.

You didn’t even know what you were to him anymore and yet, he carried on as if you were the most important thing in the world. That helping, protecting, saving you was a responsibility he didn’t take lightly. Steve.. He just.. You just..

Steve. Steve was calling. You shook off your layer of feelings analysis and answered your buzzing phone, sitting up on the couch as you brought it to your ear. It was late.

“Hello?”

“Hey.. thanks for.. I wanted to check in, see how you’re doing. If I’m overstepping, feel free to hang up on me, though.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “You’re not overstepping.” You’re being Steve. “I’m okay, yeah. Calm and mostly relaxed. I’m..”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He paused and you swore you could hear him overthinking what to say next. “Would you tell me the truth though? If you weren’t.. Okay?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I would.”

“I appreciate that, really. I know you don’t owe me anything but I’m worried.”

You smiled to yourself. “I’m okay.” You knew repeating it may not reassure him, but it helped you. “Oh, actually. I was thinking about something.. Uhm, when they..” You breathed in slowly. “When they took Hercules, they mentioned some weird threat about him fighting. Is that.. Does that mean they.. That there is a dog fighting, uhm, thing or..” You couldn’t even bear to finish what you were thinking.

“Bucky is already investigating, sweetheart. If that exists, we’re going to stop it. I promise you.”

–––

The next evening, Steve called again. To check in and make sure you were still okay. It was funny - because you had a feeling that his phone calls weren’t the only thing Steve had implemented when it came to ensuring your wellbeing. A new lock system had been installed at the front of your building and that same security guard was patrolling when you left for work that morning too.

The next night he called to see how you were. Then the next and the next and the next.

One night, after you told Steve that you were okay, again, you felt an urge to keep him on the line. For some reason, your conversation started to feel like they used to when you first met - friendly, but a hint of something else, something more. But did you want that? Did he?

“While I have you, though. I was wondering if I had to ask Clint for permission if I wanted to paint my apartment - do you know? Or is it like free reign?”

Steve laughed on his side of the phone. “I can get Clint to find you a painter tomorrow, if you want.”

“Oh, no.” You dismissed that idea quickly. “I want to do it myself. I think it would be fun.”

“Well then, since it��s my building, consider this your permission to paint whatever you want. And if you need some extra hands, I’d be happy to help.”

–––

A week later, you answered another late call from Steve.

“It’s late, I can let you go. I’m sure Hercules is already asleep beside the bed waiting for you..”

You smiled to yourself briefly, then sighed. “I’ve been in bed for a while, actually.”

“Oh.” You heard Steve pause. “You didn’t have to take my call.”

“I can’t sleep tonight.”

He paused again. His voice was slower this time, softer. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just..” It was probably just the late day coffee you had or the tight stress you were holding in your body. “..can’t sleep, I guess.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Maybe you could.. I don’t know, just talk a bit. Tell me a story? From your childhood or high school or something?” You stifled a yawn. “Anything..”

After another beat, Steve’s voice returned in your ear. “Okay. Let’s see. Technically I’m forbidden to share this story but me and Buck had to take a theater class in high school and..”

–––

Steve called you pretty early one night, just as you were coming home from picking up Hercules.

You dropped onto your couch and quickly pulled on the nearest throw blanket the moment you walked into the apartment. When you noticed Steve on the caller ID, you answered right away.

“Hi,” you said through a yawn, laying flat on the cushions. It sounded like Steve sighed in relief on the other end of the phone. “Steve? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Hey sweetheart,” he continued quickly. Damn. When he slipped in the sweetheart pet name, your heart got really confused. “Just nice to hear your voice.”

“Are you okay?” You repeated the question, sitting up from your lounging position.

“I am,” he confirmed. “There’s just something I need to tell you, before you hear about it on the news.”

“Okay..”

“Rumlow - Brock Rumlow.. You remember him?” Before you could answer, Steve laughed. “That’s a stupid question. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten Rumlow.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Steve’s commentary. “No, I haven’t forgotten Brock Rumlow.” Your momentary elation soon disappeared when you considered why Steve might be mentioning Rumlow by name. “What about him?”

“He died today.”

A silence fell between you. “In prison?”

“Yes. Considering how high profile his arrest was, it will likely make the evening news. Maybe it’s already published, I don’t know. I just wanted to warn you before you heard.”

“Okay.” You paused again. “Steve - did you–”

“This had nothing to do with me, surprisingly.” He let out some weird exaggerated laugh again. “I wasn’t his only enemy.” That was Steve choosing what to say and you supposed that was fine. The nitty gritty details really weren’t needed. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Even though he couldn’t see you, you shrugged, laying back down. “I don’t know, I guess I’m just.. it’s weird to say relieved but..I shouldn’t feel relief over someone’s death, right? Maybe I don’t know how to react.”

“That’s normal, I’d say.” He paused. “I don’t want you to be scared.”

“I do get scared. I think about that night a lot.” You sighed. “But I’ve lived in New York long enough to know that the weird person on the subway probably doesn’t give a shit about me, so I shouldn’t be worried about them.”

“What weird person on the subway?” Steve asked quickly. You could hear him shuffling, maybe going from sitting to standing. “Where did you see–”

“Steve.” You cut him off, with a quiet laugh. “That was hypothetical. I’ve been alright lately, I promise. And remember, I said I would tell you if I wasn’t.”

You heard him let out a long sigh. “Okay.”

“Thank you for calling me and giving me a heads up though,” you continued. “Maybe I’ll mute my news feeds for a few days.”

–––

You [7:01PM]: what do you think? It has taken a few weeks from start to finish but…

You [7:01PM]: (IMG_9116) S Rogers [7:02PM]: that’s a great colour S Rogers [7:03PM]: so. what was the ratio of paint on wall vs paint on you? You [7:03PM]: wow! Rude. You [7:03PM]: 90/10 You [7:04PM]: (IMG_9121) S Rogers [7:06PM]: very cute S Rogers [7:06PM]: even with paint in your hair ;)

–––

Thanksgiving wasn’t your favourite holiday. The food was fine and sure, it was a great excuse for some time off work.

Into adulthood, you were really appreciative of the friendsgiving tradition instead. Especially because your mother was spending the holiday in Jacksonville with her cousin, leaving you mostly without plans for the big day.

Friendsgiving you took seriously. Claire was hosting this year, the weekend before Thanksgiving since she had to work on the holiday, and you had been tasked with dessert making, which was totally up your alley. Maria had offered assistance, so together you were spending your Friday night making the most out of your oven and counter space.

It was going well, although you had started a lot later than planned. It made for a late night but you were in good company with Maria. Having a night in with one of your closest friends wasn’t something you took for granted. Between flour measurements and preparing fruit, you and Maria spent the entire night talking. It was exactly what you needed.

Just before midnight, you were taking the pecan pie out of the oven and Maria was finishing off the dishes. Just as you turned to join her at the sink, a loud banging started at your door. You gasped, probably too loudly for a sane person, and met Maria’s wide confused stare.

Hercules awoke from his bed in your room and trotted towards the door, cautious.

You walked over behind him, holding your breath as another knock echoed.

“Jesus, Barnes - you’re going to scare her to death..”

Barnes? Was that.. Clint’s voice?

Maria followed behind you, pausing as you looked through the peephole.

“Who is knocking on your door at midnight?” Maria asked quietly.

You sighed. Bucky and Clint, apparently. What on earth?

After unlocking the door, you opened it, stopping the bickering men in the middle of their conversation.

“Hello?” You returned their awkward greetings with a small wave. “Can I help you?”

“What is that smell?” Clint’s eyes widened, looking over your shoulder into the apartment. “Are you baking?”

“Can I help you?” You repeated, turning your attention to Bucky directly. “What are you doing here?”

Bucky let out a breath before dragging a hand down his jaw. “So, here’s the thing, doll. My good friend Steve - you know Steve, right? He’s currently spiraling because you haven’t answered your phone or any of his messages all night..” He stood up a bit straighter, looking between you and Maria. “Given the uh..well, he’s just worried about you. Sent us up to check in.. And, since you are clearly very alive and safe, we should..” He paused. “Do I smell snickerdoodles?”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes, inviting the men inside. Maria grabbed the container of fresh cookies and offered them each one.

“If Steve is concerned, why isn’t he at the door?” Maria wondered out loud.

“Boundaries,” Clint answered with a mouth full of cookies.

Bucky thwacked him on the shoulder. “Manners, Barton.” Bucky waited to bite his own cookie, then nodded. “He’s politely keeping his distance.”

You sighed, then looked over at Maria. You had filled your friend in on most of the details about you and Steve and what your recent reconnection looked like. Minus the whole warehouse rooftop situation. You weren’t sure how to share that. But the confusing new feelings and conversations.. They had proved difficult to process alone.

Not to mention that after you and Steve had broken up, your friends had loyally become very anti-Steve. Which you very much appreciated and if the roles were reversed, you’d have done the same for them. But people and relationships were complicated. You weren’t sure how your friends would react to the whole thing.

Maria, for example, had been incredibly cautious and resistant when you filled her in. Not that she didn’t believe in giving people second chances - but instead held true to the fact that all men were just big clueless morons who never did the right thing. You couldn’t fault her for that opinion either. But even if you figured out your own feelings and walls, you’d never be able to really date Steve again if your friends hated him.

“Hmm,” Maria leaned against your counter, removing the dish cloth from her shoulder as she organized her things. “Well, you should walk me out.” She turned to you. “Points to Steve for respecting boundaries and still caring about you, but I’d feel better seeing him grovel up close.”

Clint let out a belly laugh. “Me too”

While Maria and Clint headed out, you took the opportunity to put Hercules’ leash on for one last trip outside before bed. When you stepped into the hallway, Bucky was waiting for you.

“This isn’t my place and I know you’re smart enough,” he started slowly, dropping his hand down to accept a lick from Hercules. “But you know you don’t owe Steve anything right? I told him that the day might come where you don’t answer his phone calls and he has to deal with it on his own. If you close the door, he will keep his distance.”

You scrunched up your face, then shrugged. “Thanks, Bucky. Sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of emotional support for him.”

“You have no idea, doll. It’s part of my role as lifelong best friend, unfortunately. It’s a heavy burden to bear,” Bucky laughed, shrugging too. “He’s got some demons to work through - I guess we all do. Right now with you though? He’s trying real hard not to look like he’s trying.”

You caught up with Clint and Maria at the elevator then headed to the lobby. As you walked out, you spotted Sam leaning against the front desk, chatting with the overnight doorman. And then there was Steve - standing at attention, hands locked behind his back, an equal distance between the front entrance and the elevators. He was dressed in what you considered his normal attire - a crisp navy suit over a plain shirt, no tie. He made effortless look so damn good and you sort of hated it.

When he saw you, he took a few strides forward.

Bucky and Clint joined Sam to the side while Maria lingered behind your shoulder. Hercules tugged on his leash and pulled you towards Steve immediately, clearly overjoyed to see him.

“Hey,” you started as you approached. “I unintentionally ignored your calls, I’m sorry. Just plugged my phone in and forgot about it for a while.”

Steve shook his head quickly. You couldn’t help but see his resolve lighten, as if seeing you caused his shoulders to relax. “You don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have dragged everyone here, there was just this..” Whatever Steve was going to say, he seemed to change his mind. He blinked twice then scanned you. “Is that.. flour?” He reached and brushed your shoulder clean.

“We’ve been baking,” you filled in quickly, doing your best to try and read him. “Claire is hosting us for Friendsgiving tomorrow and–”

“You should come!” Maria blurted out from behind you.

With wide eyes, you looked over your shoulder at her. ‘What?’ you mouthed.

Now it was Maria’s turn to shrug. “Claire said her cousin had to bail so there’s an extra seat and..” She took a step forward, nodding at you in reassurance before looking at Steve. “And Luke will be there. So.. you know, you’ll have a friend..”

“I thought Claire invited Matt?” You couldn’t help but ask as your brain caught up to you. “That doesn’t..” You turned back to Steve. “You are more than welcome to come. I know you’re busy and have a lot of–”

“I’d love to,” Steve answered slowly, as if trying to make sure you were even okay with the concept. You reached out and grabbed his nearest hand, with a squeeze. That seemed to be reassurance enough. “What can I bring?”

Steve and his crew left shortly after, not before Steve gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. You forced Maria to join you outside with Hercules before her Uber showed up. The fresh air was something you really needed to cool down.

“So,” You turned to Maria, tipping your head to the side dramatically. “What the hell was that?”

Maria whined out your name, shaking her head. “That guy is in love with you. And trust me, he has a long way to go before I will trust him again, but damn. He looks at you like you’re the most important person on the planet. And I think you love him too.”

“Maria..” You sighed, leaning your head onto her shoulder. “I don’t know how things got so complicated.”

“I just want you to be happy and safe,” she carried on, giving you a small pat on the head. “I get that not everyone is into second chances but.. I don’t know, life is short. If you feel comfortable giving the guy another chance, then we could too. Maybe. Wanda for sure can get on board, Claire might have some reservations.”

“And inviting Steve tomorrow is supposed to be some test?”

“Obviously,” Maria smirked, looking like you had said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “I think it’s only fair for us to really get to know him.”

–––

Claire lived in a beautiful rent controlled apartment in the middle of Harlem. She complained about the location every now and then - it wasn’t the smoothest commute for her to get to work - but at the end of the day, it was functional and roomy.

Which was good, considering you, Claire and Maria had rearranged most of her living room and kitchen area to host a dozen people for Friendsgiving. With a set of borrowed chairs and a folding table from Claire’s downstairs neighbour, you managed to set up the area just in time before everyone started to arrive.

When Maria had spilled in the group chat about inviting Steve to dinner, Claire had been apprehensive but on board, for your sake. And although you had been grateful for your friends’ open mindedness when it came to Steve, you were suddenly nervous about the whole thing.

Mostly because - oh god, what if he had a terrible time? Or what if he got a phone call in the middle of dinner and had to disappear? Was he going to bring a gun with him? Jesus, you hadn’t even thought about that and what if-

Claire dropped a hand on your shoulder. “Girl, you need to chill.” She urged a glass of your preferred wine into your free hand and sent you away from the kitchen area. “He’s just a man, remember.”

You laughed and clinked your glass with hers. Claire was always a good voice of reason, which you appreciated. You turned to her with a smile. “A good reminder, thank you. But speaking of men - why did you invite both your current fling and your ex to this?”

Before Claire could defend her own actions, Maria was answering a knock at the door and guests started to arrive. After a few arrivals, you were the one greeting at the door and you couldn’t hold back your smile when Steve showed up, with Luke at his side.

“Hey,” you said, politely stepping aside to let Luke in while you lingered in the doorway with Steve. “You look nice.” It felt silly to say but you couldn’t help yourself. Steve had traded his typical suit for a pair of dark brown slacks and a knitted red striped polo. His hair was perfectly coiffed and you just wanted to… kiss him. Damnit.

Steve smirked in response, pulling you into a side hug. “You look nice, sweetheart.” Okay, yes, you had picked out one of your favourite dresses. But that was because you wanted to dress up for Friendsgiving, that was the only reason.

After he shed his coat, you noticed Steve was carrying flowers. You didn’t even have a moment to comment on them before he headed towards the kitchen, where he presented the bouquet directly to Claire. She accepted them with a smile, and when he turned away, you caught her eye. She pointed towards the flowers and mouthed ‘Ten points!’

It didn’t surprise you that Steve managed to socialize effectively with everyone he just met, but he truly did such an impressive job holding conversations. Before dinner, he engrossed himself in a chat with Claire’s on-again-off-again ex-boyfriend Matt, the lawyer, and his coworker Foggy. They seemed to have some common interests in certain legal matters that mostly sounded incredibly boring to you.

Steve stayed within your orbit and even when you were in the kitchen finalizing a few things with Claire, you caught him looking your way. Why did that make your heart beat so fast?

You sat at his side for dinner and when everyone was going around sharing what they were thankful for, Steve’s hand found your knee under the table. When you said you were thankful for all the people in your life (and your dog, of course), Steve gave you a delicate squeeze and rubbed his thumb against your thigh.

After dinner, he found you in the kitchen.

“You know, Bucky was bragging all night about your cookies,” Steve saddled up beside you as you leaned against the kitchen counter, while you nibbled at the last piece of apple pie. Steve grabbed a spare fork and joined you. “They ain’t got nothing on this pie.”

You smiled. “Glad you liked it.”

“Apple is my favourite,” Steve replied, licking his lip after cleaning off his fork. “Ma makes a good one but I think she has some competition.”

“That seems like really high praise,” you laughed, leaning against the counter. Steve mirrored you, resting his hand behind your back. It was subtle, maybe even barely noticeable, but he very slowly started to trace circles against the soft fabric of your dress. You were melting. “I’m really glad you came. Hopefully it wasn’t too painful for you.”

He tipped his head to look at you. “We will have to thank Maria for inviting me.”

When Steve politely offered you a ride home, you couldn’t say no. Since you were both heading towards the same area of Brooklyn, it made a lot more sense than taking the subway. As you were leaving, Clarie, Maria and Wanda all gave you the same friendly judgemental look. You accepted that as approval for your actions, departing with a small smile and Steve’s hand at your back.

In typical Steve fashion, he walked you inside and to your apartment door. And then he even happily joined as you took Hercules outside for some air.

Then, well, the night was over. Steve had come to dinner, Steve had brought you home. What else was there to do?

“You can share those cookies with Bucky,” you said with a smile as you stood in the hallway, between Steve and your door. You were sending him home with the rest of the snickerdoodles. “Or keep them all to yourself.”

Steve smiled, raising his hand to brush it through his hair. God, that was sexy. Had that always been sexy? What was going on? Why were you feeling this way?

“Thank you again for letting me join you tonight,” he said slowly, then his feet shuffled forward half a step closer to you. “Hopefully your friends don’t hate me.”

You laughed, sliding your tongue across your lips. You watched his eyes dart down, watching carefully. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Steve..”

Then he leaned in, holding your hips with his hands, and pressed his lips… to your cheek. You tried not to deflate.

His palms lingered against you for a moment, then he pulled back. You couldn’t read his face.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

–

You texted him well after midnight.

You [1:12AM]: are you awake? S Rogers [1:12AM]: yes

Steve answered your call after the first ring. “Is everything okay?”

You couldn’t believe you had actually hit ‘call’ but something deep within you compelled you to. It was dark in your bedroom and you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. You had been restless in bed for over an hour as his face flashed through your mind. Steve with his broad shoulders. Steve with his lingering hands. The way his chain bounced on his chest, how he growled when he came…

Just moments ago you had reached into your bedside table for your little vibrating toy. It wasn’t the first time you had put it to use thinking about Steve. But this time, you were imagining him tearing off that knit polo, the lingering smell of his aftershave, his weight on you.

If you couldn’t feel him, maybe you could hear him.

“I’m fine..” You said slowly. “Are you at home?” It occurred to you he might have gone directly to Shield after he dropped you off.

Your name left his lips, drawing your attention back to the call. “I’m home. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“What’s wrong is..” You tried to steady your breathing. Your voice dropped down. “.. you’re not in bed beside me.”

Silence. Then, you heard his breath hitch. “Baby..”

“I can’t..” You were whining into the phone. “I want to come, Steve. Will you help me? Please?.”

He chuckled, lowering his voice. “I can’t say no to that request, sweetheart. Tell me - what are you doing? You using that toy?”

“Uh huh,” you preened back. You had been sliding it across your skin, teasing yourself for as long as you could. “I’ve been thinking about you, Stevie. You and me.”

“Me too, baby. Fuck.” You could hear more shuffling on his side. Christ. Was he touching himself too? “Listen to me, I’m going to help you. Bet you’re already wet, aren’t you?”

You just whined in response.

“Turn that toy up a notch, baby. Circle your clit real slow. And what about your nipples? God, if I was there–”

“Tell me, please. If you were here..”

Half an hour later, as your laboured breathing settled after two quivering orgasms, Steve wished you goodnight and sweet dreams.

–––

Given it was the night before Thanksgiving, your boss has been flexible when you had to dash out early. The frantic call from Kate at the dog daycare had been surprising, but thankfully your heart rate steadied out when you learned that Hercules was okay. They hadn’t spared any other details, but politely asked owners to come collect their dogs earlier than usual.

Truthfully, you had barely been functional at work all week anyway. Sure, you went through the motions and got your tasks done but before a long weekend, most people were half-assing their responsibilities anyway. And your mind was still racing after Friendsgiving dinner and the phone call with Steve and… Steve.

Fuck.

You were one of the last to arrive at the daycare, patiently waiting in line to check Hercules out. Once you had him, leash in hand, you turned to leave. Then you spotted Natasha and Yelena chatting quietly to the side of the room, and, well, you couldn’t help but follow your gut.

You saw Yelena there quite often, but Natasha was a rare sighting. Ever since your conversation with Steve after the whole warehouse incident, something had been pricking at the back of your mind.

“..Natasha barely talked to me for weeks after that night..”

Taking a deep breath, you headed toward the sisters. Luckily, it seemed like their conversation had come to an end anyway as Yelena rushed past you with a hurried hello, then joined Kate somewhere behind the scenes. Nataha remained planted where she stood, scanning over her phone. She tipped her head up as you approached.

“Hey,” you started out slowly, offering a reluctant smile.

Nat crouched briefly, greeting Hercules with a few head scratches before she met your gaze again. “How are you?”

“I was wondering if.. you had like two minutes to chat?” You asked, eyes closed tight as you anticipated her answer. You weren’t sure what it was about Natasha, but she intimated you immensely. You weren’t scared of her but something made you want to impress her.

Natasha looked at her phone again, eyes narrowed, then back to you. “I can give you five.” With a nod of her head, you followed her behind the front desk and into the small staff kitchen area opposite the main daycare space.

While Natasha dropped onto one of the well worn couches, quickly joined by Hercules as you let go of his leash, you couldn’t steady yourself. All at once, your burning questions and thoughts swirled around in your mind. Then, you took a deep breath and opened your mouth.

“Steve told me a few weeks ago, that when we broke up.. he said you stopped talking to him for a while. I wanted to ask you why..” You raised a shoulder up to shrug, then watched Natasha from across the room.

After a few beats, she let out a quiet laugh. Then, she leaned forward on the couch, elbow resting on her knees, and she stared at you. “Can I be frank with you?”

You swallowed, then found a chair to sit on near a small table. “I’d rather you be Natasha..” When that clearly shielded attempt at humour landed no response, you cleared your throat and nodded. “Yes, please.”

Natasha sighed. “Steve trusts me and when he asks me for advice, I don’t sugar coat it. Dating Steve is not an easy task and your wellbeing is his top priority. So I get why he made his decision. But I did firmly advise him not to be an asshole about it. It was going to hurt you either way, but it was up to him to control the delivery.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, well, he did a terrible job.” It didn’t sting as much anymore – really. Given how much your friendship or whatever had evolved with him now, the words didn’t echo through your mind like they used to. You understood why he had made his choices and you could see his remorse in every interaction you’ve had since. Of course, it wasn’t possible to erase what had happened but you and Steve both looked back at it differently now.

Natasha relaxed again, pressing her back into the couch. “I have known Steve for a long time and I have rarely seen him act as selfishly as he did. You deserved better than a breakup over a phone call. Jesus, when he told me what he said – I should have gut punched him. In an attempt to protect you, he fucked up something good for you both. It’s bullshit and embarrassing.” Another sigh escaped her. “And, you didn’t hear this from me, but Steve has never let himself be happy. Because this world and this work can really leave you numb. He was so different once you came into his life, it was something else. So, I was rooting for you two.”

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm up with her last sentence. This seemed like something rare, a secret revealed from someone prone to privacy.

“I see why he made his self sacrifice with you. It is classic Steve, if he cares about something, he cares deeply and shows it.” She pinned you with a stare, giving you another once over. “Here’s the thing. You get to decide if you want to forgive him but if you look back over everything – every single moment with Steve – was there a pattern that makes forgiveness worth it?” Her phone, which had been resting on the couch beside her leg, started to vibrate. “Shit. I’ve gotta take this.”

Natasha stepped away briefly, keeping her tone hushed.

Christ, you probably need a therapist to start unpacking everything that Natasha had just presented. Was there a pattern?

Yes.

Every single action from Steve since the beginning had been, well, selfless. He was constantly putting your needs above everything else. The day you saved him outside the restaurant, he took you to the one person he trusted the most for care. When you called him in distress during your apartment break in, he didn’t hesitate to come help you.

He picked up on your subtleties, your fears and concerns. He moved you to a safer apartment, he protected you from unsavoury people, he pleaded for your understanding, he always left you feeling satisfied. More importantly, he let himself be himself around you. You loved seeing the personal, soft side of Steve. You.. you loved Steve. And maybe it was time to take the leap of faith again - because you missed him when he wasn’t around.

Fuck.

Before your logical brain could catch up and decide what to do with this revelation, Natasha was standing in front of you again. Her eyes were hiding something.

You held your breath when she finally spoke.

“So, speaking of Steve…”

–––

Ever since that night, at the abandoned warehouse, on that rooftop.. Steve had been on edge. More than before. You were constantly on his mind, and despite his efforts to ensure you were safe, he couldn’t settle.

Well, until he got to hear your voice every night. That… that started to mean more to him than he could explain. It was different this time around - the slow build to flirting, wrapped underneath a foundation of familiarity.

But it felt like that spark from before had returned, though he couldn’t act on it.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Bucky had been his voice of reason through all of the confusing feelings. He kept Steve grounded in reality - that the ball was in your court only, forever. If you were ever going to humour Steve again, it was your choice, at your pace. And maybe it would never happen. Bucky had reminded Steve more than once.

Every agonizing decision Steve was making lately had you at the forefront. Maybe it wouldn’t end up how he wanted it, but if you were safe and secure and happy, nothing else mattered.

Though it had been completely irrational for Steve to make the crew rush to your apartment on a Friday night, the precautionary gamble ended up paying off. Not only were you perfectly safe, but Steve had somehow managed to end up with an invitation to dinner with your friends.

And dinner had gone surprisingly well too. The moments with you and in your world, away from his own, had been so calming. A reminder that life existed outside of the seedy underbelly, where friendly conversation and good food were the only reason why people got together. God, he had enjoyed every minute of it. But more than anything, he was happy to be at your side.

Leaving your doorway that night with just a simple kiss on the cheek had been hard for him to do. But everything needed to go at your pace. If that meant an inappropriate late night phone call, he’d help you out, too.

He was fucked.

Admittedly, the past few days had been a welcome distraction following Saturday night. Some events in his business life ended up escalating way quicker than Steve had anticipated - which largely meant ignoring other priorities (and thoughts of you) to assist Bucky with his latest project - the dog fighting ring investigation.

Steve had kept Rhodes in the loop about their plan, much to the former DA’s dismay. Steve had made it his own personal mission to take down this underground operation and he promised Rhodes the public credit. But Steve needed the NYPD to turn a blind eye to their plan.

The ambush took place that Wednesday afternoon, with Bucky, Steve, Sam and a few additional men breaking into an abandoned facility in north Queens and going in with plenty of ammunition. They recovered nearly a dozen dogs, most of which immediately went to a veterinary hospital to be checked out. The pups who didn’t need overnight care were to be transferred to Kate’s facility for the weekend, with the costs covered by Steve.

But, after all was said and done, not everyone had left unscathed. Four of the people organizing the dog fighting were sent to a hospital with some severe wounds thanks to Bucky. And Steve, out of all people, had ended up with a pretty dramatic gash in his left arm from one of the dogs. He didn’t blame the poor animal for the situation, of course. But medical attention was necessary.

That was how he ended up at his mom’s clinic - once again. Sarah Rogers had, of course, greeted him warmly then delivered a firm lecture to him about his personal safety.

Just as Sarah was finishing up cleaning his arm and applying a few temporary sutures to the area, there was a small commotion happening somewhere beyond their room at the entrance.

Steve didn’t hesitate to rush towards the lobby area, finding the intake nurse addressing someone at the door. That’s when he saw who that someone was - you.

Maybe he had lost more blood than he thought, but damn. With the late afternoon sunset streaming in, backlighting you perfectly, it looked like a halo of light. A perfect ring of light framing you, like an angel - as you desperately asked the front desk nurse about Steve, where he was, if he was okay.

The nurse was caught in a repetitive loop, explaining that she couldn’t say who was at the clinic and insisting that dogs weren’t allowed in the building and you needed to leave and –

Steve took a few steps forward, calling out your name.

Sarah hurried behind the desk and calmed down the girl who sat there, quietly pulling her to the side to leave Steve alone. With you.

“Steve!” You blinked twice and rushed towards him, stopping yourself before you crashed into his chest. “Natasha told me you were here and.. What happened?” You reached out and carefully grabbed his arm, where fresh gauze covered the bite.

Steve answered quickly, removing your hand from his arm and raising it up to kiss the back. “It looks worse than it is, I promise.”

You smiled at him and nodded. “Okay. Good.” Then you took a deep breath. “And all the dogs - they’re safe?”

“Yes, sweetheart. All receiving the care and rest they deserve.” Before Steve realized what was happening, you were throwing your arms around him. He whispered your name softly, rubbing a hand down your back.

You pulled back and met his soft gaze. “Steve..” You scanned over him again, as if double checking what he said was true. Aside from the bandaging on his arm, Steve truthfully was unharmed. His emotions had been a rollercoaster but for some reason, seeing you had helped settle most of that.

His hand moved and cradled your jaw for just a moment, before brushing against your cheek. “Did you rush all the way here because you were worried about me?”

Your eyes widened before you shook your head. “What? No. I’m not.. It was Hercules, actually, who wanted to make sure all the dogs were okay.”

Steve couldn’t hold back his grin. “Right.”

“We-” You motioned your head towards Hercules, who was sitting patiently nearby - “weren’t sure what Natasha meant when she said you were injured and..” A long slow breath escaped you. “I just needed to see you.”

Steve could understand your panic, given how he had dramatically rushed to your apartment building over the weekend. Those parallels weren’t lost on him. It had to mean something, right? It all had to mean something.

Your reunion was interrupted by Steve’s ringing phone, where he cursed under his breath before moving his hands from you. “I’ve gotta take this, I’m sorry.”

While Steve took his call from Bucky, you were quickly greeted by an excited Sarah, who grabbed your hand and pulled you away to catch up.

–––

Following your reunion at the clinic, Steve had one of his hands on you. Behind your back, holding your hand, his own hand on your knee on the drive back. He only let go briefly to let you hug Sarah goodbye, after you accepted her invitation to Thanksgiving dinner the next day.

Now, back at your apartment, all you could think about was what was Steve, Steve, Steve. His phone had buzzed with another call from Bucky the moment you stepped inside. He apologized before answering, and you could have sworn you heard him cursing his friend out.

You refreshed Hercules water and food bowls then went into your bedroom, trying to tidy the place up. When you went to pull your blinds down, you couldn’t help but find yourself distracted by the city. Although your view wasn’t as impressive as Steve’s penthouse, you could see into the Brooklyn streets below. At the right angle, you could even see the final orange glow of the sunset through some of the buildings.

It had proved to be a big enough distraction because you didn’t even hear Steve end his call or walk into the room behind you. Instead, you felt his hands on your shoulders, slowly wrapping around and pulling you against his chest. His lips brushed the top of your head.

“Everything good?” You murmured as his hands started to trail their way down your body.

“Mmhmm,” Steve replied quietly, dipping his head down, breathing hot against the side of your neck. “Is this okay?”

You closed your eyes. “Yes but..” It took everything in you to pause, but you turned around in his arms and did just that. “Wait.”

He immediately stopped what he was doing, removing his hands from you as he searched your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answered too quickly.

He said your name knowingly then repeated himself. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Okay, okay. I’m just going to say it. Steve, I want this again - with you. I want us to press reset but I’m really fucking scared.”

You watched Steve absorb your words. Telling the truth was something you knew you had to do, but you hoped Steve understood. He was still, but you could see his brain computing.

“And it’s not about the… rooftop thing. Although.. I definitely don’t think back to that night fondly.” You shook your head as you continued. “I’m scared you’re going to change your mind again. Because I don’t know if I can feel like that again. I’ve convinced myself that the good feelings outweigh that risk but..” Your voice cracked. “I’m scared.”

Steve grabbed your hands and turned you enough to help you sit on the bed. He crouched down in front of you, tracing his thumbs across your knees. “Sweetheart. Hurting you was the biggest regret of my life. I know my words can only mean so much but I want you to hear me.” You met his gaze and nodded. “I’m an idiot. An idiot who will do everything in his power to prove to you how much you mean to me. I can’t undo what I said and resetting doesn’t make it go away. But I love you and want to make this work for us if you’ll give me this chance.”

You raised your hands and cradled his face. “That was quite the speech.”

He smirked. “I mean it, baby. Every word.”

“Okay.” You took in another breath then let it out slowly.

“Okay?” Steve asked.

“Okay, let’s reset.” Your hands left his cheeks, carding through his hair as your lips crashed into his. Kissing Steve didn’t feel like going back to the beginning though - it felt like picking up where you left off.

Steve didn’t waste a moment responding, hands traveling to the back of your neck to steady you as he pushed you down on the bed. Everything happening now, in that moment, was all that mattered to you both. Steve wanted you, you wanted him. Nothing else needed to make sense.

Your hands roamed down Steve’s torso as he hovered over you, pulling at his shirt and trying to make quick work of the buttons. Steve shed his shirt without his lips leaving you, pressing hot wet kisses against your cheek, down towards your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, gasping when his teeth grazed your shoulder.

“Less clothes,” he whined out, removing himself from you long enough for your top to come off. He stood off the bed briefly to slip out of his pants, while you shimmied out of your jeans. You were left in just your underwear, some very unsexy unmatched set.

But lord, the way Steve looked at you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said firmly, crawling back over you on the bed. He braced himself above you again, tracing a finger up your jaw to tip your chin up.

You felt your cheeks grow warm. “Steve..”

‘“I’m sorry if what I said… on that phone call - if it ever made you doubt how fucking beautiful you are.” He dipped his head down and met your lips again, softer this time. “I love you, the shape of your body..” He trailed his kisses down you again, towards your chest. “Your heart..” His hands moved down the same way, tracing gently across your chest, along your soft stomach, on top of every single piece of you that you didn’t always love. “I love all of you.”

“Steve,” you whimpered under his touch, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please don’t make me cry.” You choked out a laugh, tipping your head back to mind your happy tears. When you looked back, he was staring at you with a lovestruck smile again. “Thank you. I love you too.”

He grinned, once again leaning down to press his lips to your skin. This time, it was just above your belly button. “It’s okay to cry, sweetheart. But how about I make you come instead?”

How could you argue with that?

Steve surveyed your form intently as he got back to work, hands and lips peppering against your skin. He slid his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and slid them down your legs. You helped to kick them away, just as Steve was licking his lips.

His eyes flicked to you. “Lay back, baby. Get comfortable.”

You were quick to shift on the bed, into your pillows. Just as you rested your head back, you felt the bed sink slightly just between your legs. Then the soft kisses that had been decorating your skin were inside your thighs. And then–

You let out a whimper when his mouth met your center. You knew you were already wet, but when Steve growled against your clit and slid a finger into you, it felt like a flood.

“Oh my g-god, Steve.” With one hand, you grasped at his hair. The other dragged across your chest, pulling your own bra down to grab your nipples. “Yes, yes, please.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, breathless as Steve continued stroking, suctioning against your clit as your moans grew louder. When another finger entered you, crooked inside in search of just the right spot, you nearly combusted. And when you did careen over the edge just moments later, Steve didn’t slow down.

In a daze you sat up slightly to watch him work. He was drowning in you, his own hips grinding against the bed as he consumed you. Jesus fucking Christ - that was hot. Steve was hot. This - this was hot.

“Steve,” you called for him as his mouth finally slowed down, returning to slow kisses against the inside of your thighs again. He looked up and met your eyes, drunk with love and contentment. “I need to feel you - please.”

“Okay, baby,” he replied with a soft smile. “Let me take care of you.” He shucked off his boxers and crawled up the bed again, hovering above you once more.

You raked your hands over his chest when he was close enough, gripping his hips as you pulled him down and kissed him. Your own taste lingered on his lips and tongue as he breathed into you.

“You ready?” He asked softly, reaching between your waists to position himself.

“Mmhmm,” you whispered, pressing another kiss against him. “Please.”

“Fuck,” Steve cursed out, eyes closing as he pushed himself in. God, you fit together so well. Once he felt comfortable, watching you for the right signs of pleasure, he moved out slowly before finding a rhythm.

“Steve, I missed you so much..” You wrapped your hands around his neck, in an attempt to keep him as close to you as possible. With one hand, he held one of your legs up, just enough to elicit better friction. And with the other, he cradled the back of your neck. “Missed this - this stretch..”

You could feel him smiling as he kissed you again. His hips sped up, adding just enough extra pressure that you could really feel him. You’d feel him tomorrow, too.

“My girl,” he said breathlessly against your neck. “Always. Mine..” His mouth ravaged your neck and shoulders. “Want this forever.. Want you forever..” He slowed down momentarily. “Wanna fill you up, baby.”

“Yes, yes please..” you said in return, scratching across his back with your hands as you braced yourself. A low growl escaped him as he came. He tensed up as he finished, weight heavy on top of you as you both caught your breaths.

As his head rested near yours, his lips pressed against your earlobe. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I love you.”

You were still laying in a daze when Steve returned to you in the bed after cleaning up, placing a cup of tea on the bedside table closest to you. His own matching cup rested in his hands. You sat up, pulling up the sheet with you as you rested against the headboard.

Shifting slightly, you pivoted to look at him. “I really missed you.”

He grinned. “So you said.”

“No, not just that.” You gave his shoulder a small nudge, careful not to jostle his tea. “I just like being around you.”

His smile softened. “Me too.” He drew in a long breath and moved his cup to the side table before continuing. He said your name, drawing your gaze to his. “Resetting doesn’t make who I am go away.”

You gulped. “I know.” He seemed to be searching for what to say next, so you continued instead. “I can’t pretend to understand why you do what you do. And I don’t decide what is right and wrong. Neither of us do.” You took a deep breath. “But I want to be with you. That makes me feel a little bit crazy but maybe that’s part of being in love.”

Steve laughed. “You’re in love, huh.”

Rolling your eyes, you fell into his side. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

“And I love you, baby.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, against his heart. He kissed your forehead. “I’m going to keep my professional life at bay. I won’t be able to stop it from bleeding into this but I promise you I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I take that privilege seriously.” You felt him squeeze you a bit tighter. “Though I do think there are some precautions we can take, too.”

“We?” You pulled back slightly and watched him.

“I’m going to get you something for your keys and pepper spray for your bag. How would you feel about taking a self-defense class?”

You scrunched up your face as you considered. “It has been on my to-do list for a long time.” Even without a high profile partner like Steve, knowing you feel prepared in times of danger was something you knew was important. You probably should have prioritized it sooner, really.

“Natasha teaches a class, actually. At her gym.”

“Natasha has a gym?” You nodded. “Yeah, okay. I could do that. Will you take the class with me?”

Steve laughed again. “I don’t need self-defense training, sweetheart.”

“But then we can practice together. C’mon, pleeease.”

Steve groaned, but it was evident very quickly he’d do anything you asked. So, he nodded. “Fine.”

You paused. “You’re not going to make me carry a gun, are you?”

“First of all, I’d never make you do anything.” He sat up a bit straighter, face stern. “And no, absolutely not. I hope you are never in a position where that kind of defense is required.”

You settled against him again. Big conversations like this were expected and you knew it made sense to feel a bit scared still. But, that wasn’t the feeling lingering in your stomach anymore. No, it was more like… safety, contentment, familiarity.

It was something akin to being home.

–––

Shield closed down on Christmas Eve and reopened on New Years Eve, so you weren’t sure why Steve needed to check in there in the middle of the holiday week. Sure, his office was upstairs but he had vowed to do as little work as possible over your days off together. And yet, after a lovely dinner together, he apologetically announced there was something there he needed to check in on.

You had shared a few delicious plates at May’s, a small Italian place in Queens. Steve had given you a history of the restaurant on your way - it was one of the first properties he invested in years ago so it was clearly a special place. When you arrived, the server had immediately showed you to a more intimate table tucked away in the back corner.

Wine and food arrived at the table without a menu or many words exchanged between the server and Steve. After you had finished eating - polishing off one of the best tiramisus you had ever tasted - the restaurant owner, May, came out to say hello.

When you left without mentioning a bill, you had a feeling that the business Steve did with May extended beyond just being a landlord. You didn’t ask any questions though.

Over the last month with Steve, the questionable moments were quite rare. He really did maintain the boundary between his personal life and everything else, with only a bit of a crossover. You had joined him at the club a few times - because you realized dating the club owner eliminated all the awful things you hated about going out. You never had to wait for entrance or for a drink ever again. Your friends especially liked the free drinks and safe rides home, too.

That was only a fringe benefit of being with Steve though. What really stood out to you was just Steve. Getting to know each other all over again had been exciting and fulfilling, in many ways.

You kept up your nightly phone calls. Well, when you weren’t crashing at his or him dropping into your bed, you kept up the calls. You had spent Thanksgiving with him at Sarah’s and were greeted with boxes of childhood photos to fawn over. For Christmas, you, Steve and Sarah had all travelled up to Albany to spend the day cooking and celebrating with your mom.

Slowly, it seemed your worlds would be blending together. And you weren’t really sure what the future was going to hold and how that might transpire, but you decided it was worth seeing what could happen. Because being with Steve seemed worth it.

“I promise this won’t take too long,” Steve’s voice broke you from your thoughts, as he parked his car near the back exit of the club. It was a small lot reserved for Steve and Shield staff members only, currently only occupied by one other black car. You weren’t sure who that belonged to. Maybe Natasha was there doing inventory of the bar before New Years.

You gave him a smile from the passenger seat, leaning over to meet his lips for a kiss. “Remember that we have a big day of sleeping in without an alarm tomorrow so..” He smirked. “Take all the time you need.”

Steve bounded out of the car and raced around to help you out, extending his hand to ensure you stepped safely onto the asphalt. You had dressed up for dinner, picking out your favourite black dress paired with some heels that didn’t cause you too much pain to walk in. Steve had grinned like a schoolboy when he picked you up, which made you feel, well, beautiful. You had paired the dress with your Christmas gift from him - a stunning gold and diamond pendant, shaped like a wing. A matching wing now sat with the chain on his neck, too.

You clutched Steve’s hand as you headed through the backdoor of the club. From the dark back hallway, you could have sworn you could hear music playing somewhere. Maybe it was just the memory of whatever song was just playing in Steve’s car.

As you twisted down the hallway, past the back office, storage rooms, and the back stairs up towards the second floor, the music grew a bit louder. You definitely heard music. You tried to ask Steve what was going on but he just squeezed your hand, threw a mischievous grin over his shoulder and carried on.

When you finally made it to the main club area, it was still pitch black. The music kept playing. You grasped both of Steve’s hands in a panic and by the time you had formed a sentence to ask a worried question, the lights powered on.

But it wasn’t the regular industrial overhead lights. Nor was it the multicoloured pot lights that danced around to match the beat of the club music. No, this was something else.

Above you, the multicoloured lights were steady and emitting just a soft blue tone. Across the open railings above, partitioning off the downstairs area from the VIPs upstairs, various strands of string lights were hung and illuminated. It made the club area feel almost intimate.

You dropped Steve’s hands and turned around, speechless as you took it all in. On the end of the bar, you spotted a bottle of champagne sitting on ice with two matching glasses waiting. The music playing above you switched to something softer. An old song crackled through the speakers.

You turned back to Steve, who was gazing at you.

He stepped towards you, hand extended. “Dance with me, sweetheart?”

How could you say no to that request?

Steve helped you take off your coat and discarded his own. Then he pulled you towards the very center of the room, under a now spinning disco ball that splashed flickers of light around the space.

“Steve,” you started, resting your head against his chest. One of his palms cradled the small of your back while the other grasped your hand, hovering in the air as he led you in slow circles.. “Did you do this all just for me?”

He chuckled. You could feel it rumble through him. “Bucky helped me out.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand in response. You didn’t know what to say.

And maybe that was okay, because at that moment, it was just you and Steve. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I promise I’ll always dance with you.”

FIN

-----

Author's Note: Thank you again so much for reading! I have a few ideas for additional one shots in this AU, including a smutty little threesome fic and a small story with Bucky and a girl from the club. if you have any questions or want to know more about this universe or Steve and Reader, please please drop into my inbox or the comments!! love you all!!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x plus sized reader #steve rogers x you #mob boss steve rogers #mob boss steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #story: sink into me #simmerandwrite #simmerandcry

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iactuallykissedsharawheeler · 1 year

Text

⭑⌗ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒 + 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✶ let's go ahead and clear that idea that ellie wouldn't be like. immediately obsessed with you and giving you secret discounts on the weed.

✶ she met you five seconds ago and she was like. why would she ever pay for anything?? she's literally my reason for breathing?? (ok babe 😭) so you're getting that stuff for lowest price she can possibly make it. and if you flirt a little?? she's wondering why she's not just handing you the bag for free.

✶ when you guys get closer, she notices you're kinda into pink so when she sees pink papers???? she's SLAMMING that card, best believe. when you're freaking and like HOWD YOU GET THIS she's trying to pretend to be all cool like oh idk just found 'em and thought it'd be funny but if you like 'em you can have them ... i guess 😒

✶ if you're a little inexperienced with it she's a little protective and is like oh i don't think you should try that this one's way better and gives it to you on the house like?? you're trying to pay for it and she's like noooo it's for you just take it even though that was some of her good weed and she never gives that out. but you're nice and sweet and her bestest customer so who is she to charge you??

✶ when y'all are closer she literally just starts buying shit for you. you're like oh my gosh this bracelet is literally so pretty and next time you come over she's like so.. guess what and there's the bracelet in a box under two pretty pre-rolls (that she's also not letting you pay for btw)

✶ n you're so worried about breaking her bank when she does it but she's literally living lavish because she's everyone's dealer and no one with weed isn't getting it from her. (charismatic queen tbh)

✶ plus if you think this is gonna kill her wallet just wait until you guys start actually dating. she's not even waiting for you to ask for shit, she's telling you to put your cart on public so she can surprise you all the time.

✶ you're like babe how am i gonna pay you back and she's like just .. be pretty for me, yeah? 's not hard for you at all. (just flustered myself give me a minute)

✶ and some random things i just think she'd do:

✶ texting you high out of her mind about dinosaur facts because she just knows too much and needs to get it out immediately (she's such a nerd I love it 😭)

✶ trying to shotgun with you but she sees your face lookin' all pretty n dazed, chokes on the smoke, and just simply never does it after that. (give her a week, she'll be back)

✶ reading a shit ton of sci-fi. she compulsively reads savage starlight all the time but she's actually obsessed with the whole genre n can't exist without it atp (she DEFINITELY owns a few space cowboy books and before meeting you she would always imagine she was the lead guy with the hot love interest who was definitely some kind of alien. don't question it.)

✶ if you're a plushie girlie (me fr) she's ALWAYS buying you plushies. but she always buys one that matches yours for herself so you guys are "always together" or something. idk she's a little bit of a loser.

✶ she's so bad at keeping up with skincare but now she just weaponises that and makes you do it for her. literally rolling her eyes and pouting if you do yours without her, mumbling shit like "oh yeah, just forget about ellie, huh? that's what they all do" until you're like babe what??? 😭

✶ also i know that everyone says this but she really does own some weird ass shirts 😭😭 she'll get high and buy weird shit like that shirt that just says tomatoes it's so wild going through her closet lmaoo

✶ and because of her high shopping she also has some weird ass bongs like. seriously. there's a an astronaut one with octopus legs for sure, i can feel it.

✶ high ellie tweets>> she's actually so out of pocket sometimes 😭 some of her greatest hits would probs be

✶ also she was so nervous around you and wouldn't look you in the eye for too long because she didn't wanna scare you but then she got a little bold when she found out you liked girls and then was just straight up cocky when she realised you liked her, too (that blunt flick when dina said she wanted her to kiss her .. yeah that ellie)

✶ she's just the bestest, silliest, nerdiest girl ever and the best girlfriend literally anyone could ask for 💞💞

hey guys back with another banger hope you guys enjoyed make sure to like follow and subscribe‼️ no but seriously give me opinions because i love hearing you guys have little convos and the reposts are always so wild 😭😭 thank you new jersey, and goodnight (also don't look at the tags im shy) as alwaysss creds to @ cafekitsune bc these dividers are so mf cute

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inkdrinkerworld · 11 months

Note

Remus doesn’t even tell you to behave. He just gives you a look and a warning squeeze on your thigh. 🫣

Omg omg losing my mind ripping my hair out!! I want him to be stern with me!! Also I made this dealer!remus

“Remus, please come sit with me,” you’re standing just to the side of him, face presses into his neck so it looks cute and not like you’re pestering your boyfriend.

It’s not your fault really, you got high with Marlene and now you’re antsy and you just want to lay with Remus.

Remus is busy though. He’d told you to wait for him before you started smoking, knowing he’d have a shit ton of customers to rip off because they were all new to the area.

He’d been gone almost all night and that coupled with the weed is making you even needier.

Remus has the self-control to wait till the guy he’d been dealing with walked off before turning to you.

“Dove, did I not just ask you to go sit still?” He’s angry, you can tell that much- his voice is lower than usual and his eyes are narrow slits.

“Yes but,”

He holds your cheeks, smushing them together as he looks down at you. “No, ‘but’, go sit and behave. I’ll be there in five minutes, swear.”

You nod, walking back to the sofa and sitting there with a pout- head turned as you watch Remus stalk over to the kitchen.

He’s gone just over five minutes but he comes back with a bottle water, a chocolate bar and a drink for himself.

“You were longer than five minutes.” You moan, climbing into his lap as he sits down. “Said you’d be five minutes tops.”

“Watch it dovey,” he mumbles but there’s not enough heat in the words to deter you.

When your hand reaches to grab it without a ‘thanks’ he pauses, his free hand dropping to your thigh and his eyebrow cocking.

“Thanks Rem,” you mumble, laying into him as you sip your water quietly.

“So stubborn,” Remus breathes, kissing your cheek as you screw the cap back on your bottle yourself.

“Can you open the chocolate please, Remmy?” He knows you’re buttering him up, trying to soften your attitude as you rub your cheek into his collarbone.

“Oh, now you’re a good girl? Thought you wanted to do your own thing and be a brat?”

To your credit, you don’t grumble as he squeezes your thigh again. “No, I’m always good. Can you open it though? Pretty please?”

Remus scoffs good naturedly, “Yeah dovey, just chill out yeah?”

#remuslupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x you #dealer!remus lupin #dealer!remus #dealer!remus x reader

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starscabaret · 7 months

Note

Hear me out…

Jaden getting addicted to reader’s smile as she becomes his own addiction

Smile Struck Introduction

pairing: yandere! Hood Drug Dealer Jaden 💸 x Fem Reader

summary : meeting of course, its a little long but enjoy n give feedback! I love Jaden omg

warnings: drugs will be involved in most of his stories… he’s a drug dealer duh! and cursing

Authors note : check out my oc profiles to learn more about jaden

Jaden liked to drive to clear his head. Of course, he could relax at home. But something about driving with no purpose other than to think and listen to music calmed him. There was no destination, that would ruin the relaxation. He just drove until he felt calm. He could think straight. Breathe easy.

And he loved his car. He cared for it like it was his first and only child. He never let his car get dirty. Never missed an oil change. Hell, he never even let the gas go below a quarter of a tank. His car was just one of the things he was proud of. His career choice although illegal, he was proud of.

He always made sure his family was straight. He played it safe, he had little to no enemies, and his criminal record was clean. He also had respect. In his hood, people knew and respected him. He didn’t sell to kids, he didn’t go around starting fights, and he didn’t bring the cops snooping around in the area.

It was a Monday night, people weren’t exactly blowing up his phone trying to get served, so he had time for his relaxing drive. As his drive neared its end he stopped at a nearby gas station. His car would attract attention of course, but nothing most folks weren’t used to. This was the inner city, with plenty of tricked-out cars.

He wanted a pack of gum and a bottle of water. Also to fill his beloved car with premium gas. He loved to chew gum. Later you’d notice when you kissed him you could taste it.

He hopped back on the highway to head home. He felt great. Things were good for him. Business was good. Life was good. His mom didn’t have to worry about much. That’s what mattered most to him.

A smile on his face as he drove, was soon removed. He felt the powerful jolt of another car hitting his rear. He was a player but not too player for a seatbelt luckily. He was unharmed …. But his most prized possession was not. His jaw clenched as he unbuckled his seatbelt to get out of his car and assess the damage. Oh, and curse the other driver the fuck out!

They were 100 percent at fault. They rear-ended him. He would never drive so recklessly not in his baby! When he stepped out of his car he was bombarded by you.

“OH MY GOD, ARE YOU OK??? IM SO FUCKING SORRY PLEASE DO NOT CALL THE POLICE!!!”, you screamed frantically with tears streaming down your face. In your disheveled state, you grabbed him, hands all over his chest checking for injuries.

Wow, you were breathtaking even in tears and in shock. He had expected some ugly ass old man had hit his car. Not you, the most gorgeous woman he had seen in a while. He had to get on your good side. So instead of cursing you out as previously planned he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest, “I’m fine, are you ok? no cops sweetness I promise.”

“Oh hello, my goodness, yes I’m ok, but I’m sure my car isn’t, and I don’t even want to think about what I’ve done to yours.” You replied hands still in his against his chest.

“Don’t worry we’ll get it fixed, from the looks of it mine is still drivable… but yours … you should probably call your man to pick you up.” He was fishing, he hoped and prayed you didn’t have a man. And even if you did, no one he couldn’t get rid of.

“Uh no actually I don’t have a boyfriend, I’ll call my dad, he’s going to kill me …fuck.” With that realization, you began to sob. Cute, you were a little crybaby.

“Shh shhh, I can drive you, and I can get it towed I know a guy it’s free.” He cooed; he already didn’t like to see you cry. Especially if he could fix it. He had tons of connections, none with a tow truck though, no worries he’d pay.

“No that’s too much, I fucked your car up, and now you’re helping me, you should be getting my information and taking my dumb ass to court.” You replied.

“Oh yeah that, let’s exchange information, I just need your name and number my insurance company can sort the rest out.” That was a lie, he didn’t plan on filing a claim, and he had enough cash on him to cover the repairs. But he did need your name and number.

“Of course, it’s f/n l/n, 000-000-0000” you spoke while he inserted it in his phone and texted the tow company.

“Got it, my guy is on the way with the tow truck, oh and I know a nice repair shop it’ll be the cheapest I told him to take it there. I’m sure I can get you a low price.” Now that was the truth, his uncle had one of the best repair shops in the city. The price would be free because he would pay and not tell you.

“My gosh I can’t thank you enough sir, you are so nice, especially considering the circumstances” You couldn’t believe the kindness and mercy of this handsome … very handsome stranger after you hit his very expensive car.

“No problem, it’s what I do. You can call me Jaden, not sir, sweetness. Hop in, I’ll take you wherever you need.” He replied with a smirk.

And that’s when he saw it…. Your smile. Your smile was so big, bright, and beautiful. He swore he almost fell over. Your smile was natural he could tell you never had braces but cared for your teeth. They weren’t fake like the veneers lots of girls would get these days, they were natural in color. He swore he could count all 32 of them.

You were gorgeous before. but something about that smile. It did things to him, his mind, his body. He knew he would do literally anything to keep that smile on your face. Whatever it took, whatever he could do. And if it was something he couldn’t, he’d become a better man for you so he could.

He had to see you again. He had to make you want him like he wanted … no needed you. Even though you had nearly demolished the back side of his first love, and when he thought about the damage, he damn near threw up. You had given him the opportunity to insert himself into your life, so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

So, as he drove to your apartment, you two talked, starting to get to know each other. You both liked what you saw and what you heard. He realized you were new to the city, no close friends, or relatives. No way to get to and from work while your car was being repaired. So, he offered. Of course, at first, you declined it was too much. You barely knew each other, he had already done so much, what about his job? He reassured you and told you he owned his own business it was fine, what else would you do? So, you agreed. He was elated, now he could see his sweetness every day. At least for a little. But no, it wouldn’t end there, he was smooth. He’d ask you out before your car was fixed. Fuck that he’d ask you as soon as possible. He didn’t mean to rush things. He just knew you were perfect for him.

The first day he came to pick you up, you texted him to honk and just text he was outside. But he was a gentleman at least for you. He came to your door and knocked. You were shocked but smitten by the gesture. Even more so when he had breakfast ready for you in his car, opened all the doors for you, buckled you in, and asked what you wanted to listen to. That same evening, he asked you on a date at the end of the week. To which you agreed. You were excited, he was kind, and so many other things. Your rides to and from work were filled with laughs and smiles from both of you.

On that Saturday evening, you two went on your first date. He made sure to trap all week so he could spoil his darling. He took you to a very nice restaurant. He sat beside you in the booth, not across from you. He liked to be closer to you. His large body blocked you in and you couldn’t even be seen by outsiders he liked that. Your outfit was beautiful. For work, you still looked stunning, but you dressed more formally, not yourself. But here with him on this date, you let your creativity flow in your outfit. He was fly, and you matched it. It wasn’t revealing but man did it arouse him, you always did.

At the end of your date at a mom-and-pop ice cream shop. Where of course once again you insisted on paying, he frowned at you and pulled out a stack of cash. Your displeasure disappeared once you two were at the table sharing ice cream. You even used the same spoon. You didn’t realize it, but he did, it was intentional he was even feeding you. He made sure you got a spoonful first, so he could taste you off the spoon. When he drove you to your apartment and came to a park you turned to him, “Jaden, I don’t want to seem fast, or like a hoe or something but I really like you. Thank you for everything, from my car to the perfect date.”

If he could Jaden would dap himself up. He knew he had a game. But with you, he had to be careful, you were special. He turned to you and spoke up, “It’s no problem sweetness, any man would do it for the woman he’s interested in.” He said as he grabbed your hand from the console intertwining it with his and kissing the back of it.

Whew, your pussy was on fire. You had to get out of this car before he had you in the backseat. Then he’d really think you’re a hoe. Of course, he wouldn’t but you thought so. “Jaden uhm I should probably head inside, would you … would you like a kiss?” You could barely get it out before he grabbed the back of your neck kissing you deeply. You were starstruck, while he seemed so calm, so reserved. But inside he was crazy for you. The kiss was perfect, your lips and his lips together sent a chill down his spine and made this dick throb. He willed it down. He would be good to you.

“Goodnight y/n, let me walk you up, I’ll text you when I get home. You will call me before you go to sleep, sweetness?”, He asked.

“Of Course, Jaden,” you replied.

He planned on making you some part of his life the day you met but this week and tonight’s date sealed the deal, and if that wasn’t enough, you smiled at him with all 32 of your teeth before you closed and locked the door to your apartment. There it was that smile; damn he was absolutely sprung.

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yjhariani · 2 years

Text

Part 2 of Lighter Warnings: Profanity, angst, violence, blood.

A/N: Apparently people are upset that I kill them? Hopefully this mend your hearts in one way or another.

“This is a rescue mission,” Laswell started. “Top secret. The only people who will know and will be involved in this mission are the people in this room and a group of allies.”

Soap was looking around. Even the captain looked like he knew only as much as he did. In fact, he looked rather surprised.

“Who are we rescuing?” Price asked.

“One of my agents,” Laswell answered.

“Since when do we do this kind of mission?” Ghost questioned. “Rescuing a CIA agent of anyone.”

“This one isn’t actually working for the CIA. Just for me. Besides,” Laswell sighed before finally opening the file case, “this is the one person that you would want to rescue.”

The photo was the first thing everyone saw and time seemed to slow down. The four were looking—staring at the photo. The face that most of them had not seen in almost a year. Except for Ghost who saw another photo of the same face last night because he could not sleep.

The lighter in Ghost’s pocket felt like it weighed a ton now. It felt as if it was lit up and he tried his best not to touch it. He could not have mistaken that face. He knew exactly who the person was.

Gaz had to blink a few times to ensure himself. Soap even had to rub his eyes. Price, picking up the photo, felt a tinge of nausea at the back of his throat.

“This? This person is your agent?” Price asked.

“Yes,” Laswell answered stoically. “As of this moment, this person is taken by—”

“Can we talk about this for a moment?!” Soap shrieked. “That person is dead. We were there. Ghost was holding this person’s dead body! We were… we were there. We saw it. We saw the body at the funeral, too.”

Price slid the photo to Ghost. It was a photo he had not seen before, it looked recently taken.

You. Still as gorgeous as the last time Ghost saw you. Most of all, you looked alive. You were smiling in this photo. It was not genuine and Ghost knew it.

“That’s why I took care of the funeral and, guess what? The most crucial information that we got was received when our dead friend was posing as a dead body,” Laswell nodded. “We can talk about this after we rescue—”

“You couldn’t have told us?” Price protested. “You don’t trust us?”

“Telling you would compromise the mission. Now, can we all focus here? The longer we stay here, the higher the chance that we’ll be failing this rescue mission. We still need to fly to where they’re holding our friend prisoner,” Laswell said, now sounding very much more serious. “If it’s an apology you want, fine. I’ll make it brief. I’m sorry. Would you all focus on the matter at hand now?”

Price sighed and waved a hand, telling Laswell to continue. Soap and Gaz nodded. That left everyone looking at Ghost who was still looking at the photo.

“Simon, you’re with us?” Laswell asked.

Ghost finally looked up.

Did he care that Laswell hid this from you? Did he care how you got into whatever this mess Laswell asked them to fix? Did he care that the one time he found out that you were alive was because Laswell had a job and the job was to rescue you? No.

Ghost cared that you were alive and that he would get to you soon.

“Just take me there and give me a gun,” Ghost said.

Without sparing any seconds left, Laswell immediately briefed the squad on the place where an arms dealer was keeping you hostage. Right after that, everyone started moving, ready to rescue one person.

Getting in was easy. It was a mansion in Mexico and there no one inside the building. However, they were not actually taking things easy. They knew what a trap looked like. Getting out might be difficult.

At least, Ghost thought, by then they would have you and he knew what you could do. You would make things way easier. Way, way easier. Especially for Ghost.

To be honest, Ghost had imagined a lot of different scenarios of that last mission. How things would end with you alive, how he would gladly take your place, how he wished—sometimes—for Soap to be the one who died.

Not once that Ghost thought of this possibility. Yes, he had thought that the enemy might have taken you prisoner, but that was rather impossible seeing that he saw your dead body at your own funeral. He knew it was you. There was no way that anyone could look so much like you. Besides, he would know if it was not you.

Just like he knew that the further in they walked into the mansion, the closer they were to you. Ghost felt something in his chest. Was it excitement? Was it relief? Was it anger? Who knew, he was never good at those things.

It felt like a sudden when Ghost went down a manhole, saw the room with bars as a door from where he stood, and saw a bed inside that room and you were lying on it, nose pointed to the ceiling.

Your name fell out of Ghost’s lips. He thought it was his mind, at most a whisper. However, you turned your face towards his direction, confused at first. Then, you got off the bed and rushed to the bars.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” you asked, sounding way more angry than relieved.

“Rescuing you,” Laswell said as she passed Ghost and skipped towards the room you were in.

“It’s a trap,” you stated.

“Holy fucking Jesus, it really is you,” Soap said, catching up behind Laswell.

“What do you mean it’s a trap?” Price asked, joining Soap and Laswell who were already trying to unlock the bar that separated them from you.

“They put me here so they could escape you,” you said to Laswell. “They’re gonna burn this place down.”

“That’s why we need to hurry,” Laswell nodded. “Ghost, bolt cutter.”

In the meantime, Ghost was frozen on his spot. All he could see was you, your hands holding the bars, your messed up face, the way you stood, the look you gave everyone but him.

Gaz carefully put his hand on Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost did not look at the sergeant. He could not. All he could look at was you and you and you. Alive.

“LT, I got your back,” Gaz quietly said. “They need that bolt cutter you’re holding.”

“Ghost, quickly,” Price encouraged.

That next second, you finally looked at Ghost. He saw your fists clenching the bars even tighter. There was a thin smile on your face and that was all it took for Ghost to walk himself towards the door and cut the chain that locked you up.

The chain was cut, pried away, and the bar was opened. The next thing Simon knew was that he felt himself getting pushed back by a splatter of a human being wrapping their whole body tight around him.

Unfortunately, it only lasted a few seconds. It was too soon. Way too soon. You took one of the guns holstered on Ghost’s belt in the process.

“Let’s go,” you said.

“Just him?” Soap questioned.

“Good to see you, Soap,” you sighed, cocking the gun in your hand. “You, too, Captain. Hey, Gaz.”

Gaz nodded at you once.

Looking back at Simon, you found him still looking at you. You had no idea if he blinked at all or not.

“Been a while, big guy, you’re ready for this?” you asked, a flat smile on your face.

“How are you in a good mood?” was the first thing he said to you.

“Of course I’m in a good mood, I get to be in your lives again,” you said. “That, of course, if we can make it out of this place alive.”

There was a few seconds passing with everyone just watching you and Ghost looking at one another. Those seconds felt like forever for Ghost. They were beating you. They left bruises and cuts, but he knew they could never destroy you like that.

There was nothing more that Ghost wanted other than to smother you with his face and to crush your ribs with his arms. Affectionately, of course, but he would never say that out loud.

If you had time to spare, you would have already slipped his mask off and kissed him on the lips.

“It’s like we’re not even here,” Soap said.

“It’s like someone’s acting as if they had not been dead the whole fucking year,” Price scoffed.

“I’m sorry. I trust the boss lady here and I’m just doing what she told me,” you said. “Now, where is the exit?”

Not waiting for anything else to happen, Laswell led the way. Usually, you would be further at the back in the marching order, but for some reason, no one was moving until you started tailing Laswell. Ghost was right behind you because he was worried that you would combust if he let you out of his sight.

It was all easy. Getting back through one door and another. It was all too easy.

You did say it was a trap. That they would burn this place down. Ghost could not care less. He just cared that you were alive and were present, not more than a few feet away from him.

Nothing about you changed. Not that Ghost noticed. Well, you were more cautious somehow, but that was understandable seeing your reputation.

Upon entering one of the last rooms you had to pass before the lot of you were finally out of the building, you started smelling it. Gasoline.

Getting further into the big room, you finally saw the tanks. They were grouped in a corner. The floor and all the present furniture were wet with what was in them.

Everyone was tense all of a sudden. These were not here before. However, none of you stopped. Not until you felt a bullet flew across the opposite side of the hallway the group was sticking towards. It was headed towards the tank.

The shooter was a few feet away from the front door. Instead of pointing his gun at the group, he pointed his gun at the grouped tanks of gasoline.

It happened fast. You pushed yourself aside, feeling yourself rolling on the floor towards the tanks, and being pushed on your chest by a force of some sort. At the same time, Laswell and Ghost fired their guns at the person at the front door. In the very last microsecond, Ghost meant to pull you back upon sensing your leave, but he missed by mere centimetres.

Your body fell to the floor before the shooter’s body. By the time that stranger’s body touched the ground, Ghost was already beside you.

Red was blooming from your chest, your eyes wide, almost breathless. Ghost saw the spreading of red on your clothes and immediately pressed his hands on it.

“You took a fucking bullet for a bunch of tins?!” Ghost questioned. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

“Calm down, boo. At least we’re not cooked,” you said.

Ghost looked at your face and your chest back to back for what seemed to be a million times. He could see the blood seeping through his gloves.

Earlier, it was like he entered an ancient cave and instead of gold, he found found a crypt with you inside it alive, along with his heart. If that was the case, this moment would be that part where he realised that the treasure he found was cursed.

This looked bad. This looked really bad. You felt it, too.

Ghost traced his steps in a rapid second. He realised that he could have given you his bulletproof vest and he did not. He was too busy getting awed by your presence.

Last time, after long nights of pondering, he knew that there was nothing he could have done that would change your ‘death’. This time… well, this time, he would regret a lot.

“Simon,” your hand searched for his face, making him look you in the eyes. “It might be for real this time.”

“Not again,” he breathed. “Not again. I won’t fucking take it.”

By then, the rest were already around you.

“Jesus,” Soap exhaled.

“We need to move,” Price stated.

“Are you—”

“We’re moving and we’ll stop you from fucking dying!” Price yelled, cutting you off.

Everyone turned towards the captain, speechless. He was angry. No one had seen him this angry.

For a very brief moment, Ghost looked at Price and understood why he was so angry. Ghost had to deal with your death. Gaz had to deal with your death. Soap had to deal with your death. However, Price had to deal with your death whilst dealing with Gost, Gaz, and Soap dealing with your death.

If anyone deserved a million apologies for this mission Laswell gave you, it would be Price.

So, Ghost sucked it up. He did all he could to maintain pressure on your chest as he picked you up. Soap immediately helped him carry you as the group moved to the vehicle they left when they got here.

Everything moved so fast. Ghost did not pay attention and only kept his hands on you, looking at you. In the middle of this rough, sped up ride, he saw you smiling.

It was all slipping away, you could feel it. It was cruel that Ghost had to experience it once more.

“What?” Ghost asked.

“You know, my loyalty always lies with you, right?” you replied.

Ghost knew what you were doing.

“Shut up,” Ghost said.

“Always,” you repeated, putting your hand on his masked face. “Nothing I’m more loyal to.”

Even then, Ghost could not help but leaned himself against your touch.

“Except for this job, yeah?” Ghost asked.

You only looked at him.

“You’re still up for our plan if I make it out of this?” you asked.

“You will,” was all Ghost said.

“In case I don’t—”

“You better shut your mouth and keep it in,” Price chimed in. “You’re not dying on my watch, not again.”

In spite of that, a smile formed on your face.

I love you, you mouthed with whatever consciousness you had left.

“Fuck off,” Ghost quietly said.

The next few minutes, you only looked at him looking at you. Before there was nothing.

“I’m so… very sorry this happens again,” Soap said to Ghost.

The tension in the air was real. Hearts were broken. However, nothing would ever feel as hurtful as Soap putting the plus four card onto the table and saying.

You laughed.

“Last place again, boo,” you said. “You’re in the bottom of a bucket full of shit, man.”

“Fuck off,” Ghost scoffed as he gathered all the cards.

Price let out a light cackle as he leaned back on his chair.

“Nice place you both got here. Must be like a holiday every day of the year,” Price said.

By place he meant the house you and Ghost just moved in. It was not much, really, but it was what you and Ghost had envisioned all those years ago.

“A bit lonely with just the two of you in it, don’t you think?” Laswell asked.

“Oh, we’re… planning to get some pets,” you said.

“You mean a baby?” Gaz asked.

Ghost turned towards him, eyes sharp, piercing into the sergeant’s soul.

“Careful, Gaz, next time you’d be the one who’s dead and we won’t be as traumatised as when this one,” Soap gestured at you, “died. Twice almost.”

“Aw, come on, let’s not talk about that again. Just shuffle the deck and pass it around,” you said.

“Of course you don’t wanna talk about it, you’re the one who doesn’t have to suffer,” Ghost said.

“You better take that back, Simon, because you have no idea,” Laswell sighed. “I’m the one who has to deal with the whining.”

“We all suffered,” Price nodded, looking at Laswell. “But you started it.”

Laswell only looked at the captain for a moment, but she exhaled eventually.

“Fair,” Laswell said. “I could’ve told you, but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”

A pause.

“I still can’t believe you took a bullet for a bunch of tin cans,” Soap said.

Half of the table laughed. Price then took out a cigar.

“Lighter, anyone?” Price asked.

“It’s getting exhausting that you smoke a lot, but rarely keep a lighter on yourself, captain,” you said. “Here, let me light it up for you.”

Except for you and Laswell, the others took a moment of silence when you pulled out your lighter. Their gazes followed the lighter. A flash of a heartbreaking memory was painted in their eyes, unnoticed except for one another.

It was returned to you. Ghost could not live with it anymore. Afterall, he had you again. All the things that used to or still belonged to you would be nothing compared to yourself.

@teamowolverine @lilpothoscuttings

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost #price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader

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roses-for-rosalyn · 1 year

Text

The Old Church Parking Lot

Look, I had an idea for a fic and all the sudden it was 4:00 am. I promise one day I'll write a fic where reader isn't a goddamn pillow princess, but today is not that day. Enjoy my darlings.

word count: 3k

minors dni pretty please 🔞

content warnings: Dealer! Ellie, innocent reader, friends to lovers, drug use 🍃, kissing, teasing, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), reader being a pillow princess

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“You’re joking.” Ellie raises her eyebrows at you like she actually expects you to take it back. “You have been on this earth for 19 years and you haven’t smoked weed?” You shake your head. “Ever?” You can’t help but laugh, her stunned expression doesn’t leave her face. She won’t take her eyes off you despite the fact that she’s literally driving.

“Eyes on the fucking road Els Jesus.” She nods and hesitantly turns back to look at the street. “I just never had the chance I guess.” You shrug your shoulders. “Grew up in a small town, not many friends. We mostly just got drunk. It was easier, and less illegal.” You have no idea why this information shocks Ellie to her core, but there’s something else there, an excitement maybe?

“We’re gonna fix that. Tonight. I’ll pick you up after work.” She was definitely excited and extremely eager. She pulls into your driveway and puts the car in park.

“Oh yeah? And where are you gonna get it from, not exactly like there’s a store we can stop at.”

Ellie looks straight ahead and tales a beat before she answers “I kind of…deal the stuff.” She still won’t look at you. “It’s a side gig type thing, helps me stay afloat.” You can’t say you're shocked. You haven’t known Ellie long, she was one of those friends that you kind of just started spending a shit ton of time with out of nowhere. She was still new to you even though it felt like you’d known her your whole life, you were still learning about each other slowly.

“Ok that’s…incredibly convenient, but where do we go?” You were both home from college for the summer, hence living with your parents. Ellie turns to face you, she brings her hand up to her mouth and starts biting her nail in concentration. It was an incredibly cute little habit, you could see her brain working to find a solution.

“We’ll sit in the old church parking lot, I can drive us home after.”

“Works for me.” You shrug. “See you later I guess.” You smile at Ellie and she has this devilish smirk on her face like she knows something you don’t.

“God I can’t wait.” Her voice was breathy and low, something you hadn’t heard before, but it was incredibly…attractive. You go to open the car door and step out onto your driveway.

“See ya.”

“Bye.” You shut the door and head inside, having no idea what you have just agreed to.

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You have tried on your entire closet at this point. You usually weren’t like this with Ellie, normally you couldn’t care less what you looked like, but something felt different between you two lately. The type of different where you felt like you needed to look good when you saw her. You’re not gonna dwell on it though, that would just make everything worse.

You finally settle on just an old, cropped graphic tee and jeans. It’s something you wore all the time, unfortunately your whole wardrobe was strewn about your floor, so this was the best option.

Jesus why were you nervous? Probably because you were about to do drugs for the first time. Definitely no other reason.

You pass the time by doing your makeup. It always helps you relax, makes you feel good inside and out. Before you knew it Ellie was texting you she was on her way. She pulls into the driveway, her headlights lighting up your living room. You begin the trek out your front door to her car. It feels like it takes forever, you go through each motion as if you're moving through water. You finally get to her small car and open the passenger door.

“Hey princess.” Ellie is smiling ear to ear, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen her this elated.

“Hey.” You can’t help but laugh at her exaggerated expression.

“You ready? You excited?” She’s still smiling, she looks fucking adorable, it’s ridiculous.

“Definitely not as excited as you clearly are.” You can’t help but be a little nervous trying something new, but you were trying it with someone you trusted.

“We’re gonna have fun. Promise.” With that she turns up the music and pulls out of your driveway.

On the way to the parking lot you and Ellie belt out 90s hits at the top of your lungs. The windows are down, the wind blowing on your face and through your hair. It almost completely gets rid of any nerves you had. You look over at Ellie, watching her exaggerated expressions and hand movements. She acts out the words in the song like she’s performing. You can’t help but smile at her ridiculousness.

You pull into the parking lot and Ellie turns the radio down. Her arm reaches over your lap to the glove box. Her arm faintly brushes your thighs as she opens it. She pulls out a little baggie with what you would assume are blunts in it.

“These are pre-rolls. Normally you would have someone else test them out first. This shit could easily be laced with fentanyl, which can kill you. You don’t know where it comes from, you never touch it first.” She looks at you with a serious expression on her face. “Got it?” You nod vigorously, she is obviously in her element here, trying to teach you everything she knows to keep you safe. “Words princess, that’s the most important thing I’ll teach you tonight.”

“Yup, got it.” Why is this so incredibly hot? The way she wants to make sure you’re safe, she’s acting like a stern teacher and it's severely throwing you off.

She smiles and then continues “But, since you’re getting it from me, and I know where this has been and where it’s from, we’re safe.” You smile and nod, appreciating the reassurance. She takes the preroll from the baggie and grabs a lighter from the console.

“So you’ve never smoked anything before?” You shake your head “Ok so I’m gonna light this end,” She taps the tapered end of the roll, “You’re going to put your lips around it like a straw and inhale once to get it into your mouth, and then a second time to get it to your lungs.”

“That made absolutely zero sense to me.” Ellie laughs, shaking her head.

“You want me to go first, so you can watch?” Oh god yes.

“Yeah, that might make it easier.” Ellie nods and brings the preroll to her lips. She lights it with her green gas station lighter and you watch her inhale as she puts the lighter back down. She exhales a cloud of smoke towards you and you are immediately turned on. Why did she have to make exhaling seductive?

“Your turn.” She hands you the roll and you take it between two fingers. You bring it to your lips like Ellie said. Inhale once, twice. Fuck.

You immediately feel the smoke tickle your lungs and throat. You cough out the smoke rather than elegantly exhaling as Ellie did. God, it fucking burns.

“Try to breathe through your nose babe, here I brought a water bottle for ya.” You immediately grab the water bottle, trading Ellie for the blunt, you eagerly gulp it down. The water sort of soothes the burn, your violent coughing turning into heavy breathing.

“You didn’t warn me I’d have a fucking asthma attack.” You cough again while Ellie giggles at your pain.

“I forgot. But I knew you wouldn’t die, plus the surprise on your face was kind of funny.” She takes another hit and passes it back to you. You try again, but a smaller breath this time. It doesn’t burn as much this time.

“I also forgot to mention, like how this shit makes you feel. It’s different for everyone really.” You pass the preroll back to Ellie. “Mostly it just makes you relax, but some people get talkative, some get sleepy, and most people get incredibly hungry.” She pauses like she’s thinking of saying something but is holding back.

“What?” Ellie shakers her head.

“Nothing… I didn’t even know if I wanted to bring it up, but like it also can make everything feel incredibly good.”

“What do you mean?” This seems like it’s going in a direction you and Ellie have never really gone before. Ellie would talk about her sexual ventures with other women on occasion, but you never really discussed anything in detail about yourselves. It’s not like you would have much to add with the sex stories anyways, you just listened to Ellie and nodded. You definitely did not have the experience she had.

“Like it makes people touching you feel 100 times better.” She sighs and laughs “It basically makes most people horny.” She looks at you with a kind of sheepish look. You wouldn’t expect someone with as much experience as her being shy talking about this stuff. Was she… Blushing? It was hard to tell in the dark, you could have definitely imagined it.

You start to feel a smile tug at your lips and a warmth slowly floods your body. “I think...it’s hitting.” You giggle at literally nothing, which makes Ellie giggle. “Feels really good.” You breathe out. You caress your own arm, testing Ellie’s knowledge. “Woah.”

“What?” Ellie’s smiling at you, she decided she likes how you act high. It’s probably one of the more adorable things she’s ever seen.

“Touching does feel weird.” You continue to caress your own arm, you can feel the warmth of your own hands grazing across the small hairs of your forearm and it tickles.

“It’s usually other people touching you that feels weird, but whatever works for you over there.” You look at her and back at your arm.

“You touch me then.” You reach your arm out, eagerly inviting Ellie to come closer.

“I can’t.” She looks down, taking the last hit from the blunt. She won’t meet your eyes.

“Why?”

“If I start touching you I can’t guarantee I can stop.” She stops herself abruptly like the sentence was forced out of her. She puts out the blunt before finally looking up at you, her confession lingering in the air between you. She’s searching your eyes for any disgust or rejection. She finds none.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Ellie just looks at you, eyes wide with disbelief. You’re suddenly aware of how desperately your body is craving her touch. Your entire body ignites with a type of electricity, it courses through you causing your skin to become tingly.

Using your sudden desperation as a sort of courage you climb over to straddle Ellie’s lap. You hold onto her shoulders to steady yourself and Ellie backs the seat as far away from the steering wheel as she can. She keeps looking at you with those wide eyes. She moves her hands to cup your face gently, like she’s convinced you'll disappear. She keeps searching your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation and all she finds is pure hunger.

She kisses you, her lips are so soft and warm you immediately relax. You move your hands from her shoulders and thread them into her hair and she kisses you harder. She uses her tongue to open up your mouth and you groan at the sensation. She moves her hands down under the hem of your shirt. She grabs your breasts and starts roughly massaging the soft skin. She pulls down one of the cups of your bra and starts teasing your nipple. She pinches it between her fingers and you moan into her mouth at the feeling. She stops the kiss to pull your shirt over your head and immediately continues as she throws your shirt into the passenger's seat. She moves her mouth down and encloses it around your nipple, you gasp at the feeling of her warm tongue sucking and circling your sensitive bud. The ache between your legs has become more noticeable, it’s demanding attention. You start grinding a bit on Ellies lap. The seam of your jeans is barely teasing your clit through your underwear. It was heavenly, but not enough.

Ellie is trying to devour you. She moves her mouth from your breasts to your neck. Exploring with gentle kisses until she finds just the right spot. She nips and sucks until you're squirming on her lap uncontrollably.

“Back seat.” She breathes out. You nod vigorously and climb off her lap and awkwardly maneuver your way to the back seat. You lean up against the car door while Ellie adjusts her seat again to make room. It gives you a moment to breathe before she moves to straddle your waist and continues where she left off. She kisses between your breasts down your stomach, gently making a trail down your body with her lips. She’s so gentle and slow, the feeling of her soft lips on your body is driving you insane.

She gets to the hem of your jeans and unbuttons them. This is where you start to realize you’re entering uncharted territory. You’re trying not to panic, but suddenly a breathy “Ellie,” Escapes from your swollen lips. She immediately pauses and looks up at you. She sees the slight nervousness in your expression and immediately understands.

“No one’s ever-” You don’t even know how to finish that sentence without embarrassing yourself.

“I know,” Her face softens “We’ll go nice and slow, tell me when I need to stop okay?”

“Okay.” You nod and Ellie continues unbuttoning your jeans. Nervous butterflies invade your stomach, despite your altered state. Ellie pulls the jeans off and throws them on the floor. She then takes off her flannel leaving her in a black tank top. Her biceps and veins are enhanced by the moonlight, You can see her muscles flex and move as she does. She moves down kissing along the hem of your panties before placing a kiss on your clit. The sight of her head between your thighs is enough to push the ache in your cunt to an unbearable level. She teases you over the fabric, rubbing her fingers up and down your slit slowly. She brushes her finger over your clit repeatedly and a desperate whine escapes from your mouth.

“I know princess, just a little longer.” Ellie is savoring you like you’re the last thing she’ll ever see. She places light kisses on your inner thighs as she continues to tease you.

Finally she moves your panties to the side. She runs a finger from your entrance to your clit collecting the wetness that pooled between your legs. You can’t help but whimper, your clit feels ten times more sensitive than usual. Every time Ellie is near it the feeling reverberates through your entire body. She blows out a breath on your cunt and the feeling is heavenly.

“Doing ok, pretty girl?” She looks up from between your legs and you have to resist squeezing them together at the sound of her voice. It was low and raspy, and every word sounded like honey.

“Yes.” You nod, your eyes squeeze shut in frustration.

“Look at me.” Her voice was lower, demanding. “I’m gonna make you feel good, I promise.” And with that she lowers her mouth onto your bare cunt. She laps at your clit lightly, she moves her tongue in circles around it, continuing her teasing. She licks from your entrance up to your sensitive bud and begins sucking on it. Your hips immediately buck up towards Ellie’s mouth at the foreign feeling. You are moaning loudly and uncontrollably, you had no idea anything could ever feel this way. It’s almost too much.

Ellie moves her finger to circle your wet hole, once you relax a little she starts to slowly push her finger into you. She makes sure to be slow and careful.

“Ellie.” You whine out once curls her finger and hits just the right spot inside you. She continues sucking on your clit and slowly curling her finger inside of you.

“God you're so tight, you gotta relax for me princess.” You try to focus on relaxing around her finger, once you do Ellie adds a second finger. Your cunt swallows it greedily and you whimper at the pressure of two of her slender fingers inside of you. She sucks at your clit even harder and you gasp out “Ellie please ‘s too much.”

Ellie pauses for a moment “I know baby, you just have to breathe for me. Here, hold onto me.” She places one of your hands on her arm which is wrapped around your thigh. You do what she says and relax under her. You try to let your body melt into her. “That’s it, you’re doing so well for me.”

She starts sucking lightly on your clit again. You impulsively use your other had to grab at her hair at the feeling. The pleasure in your stomach is starting to come to a high point, you’ve never felt this before. It was all consuming. Ellie is making little groaning sounds which vibrate through your body. You can feel her start fucking you harder, her fingers hitting that spongey spot inside of you at every thrust. Your back starts to arch while the pressure in your belly grows. Nothing has ever felt like this, it's building to a point so intense you almost start to worry.

“Els, what-” You barely get your question out before blinding pleasure takes over your body. You moan out Ellie's name loudly over and over as she continues to fuck you. It moves in waves, crashing through you causing you to buck your hip into Ellie's mouth and fingers over and over. You whimper and whine each time her fingers move in and out of you. She fucks you through the whole thing until you start squirming away.

She pulls her fingers out of you and sucks them clean. You stare in disbelief, you didn’t even know someone could do that. Your arousal was covering her lips and chin, glistening. She crawls on top of you to kiss you and you can taste yourself on her tongue. If your limbs weren’t jelly that alone would be enough to make you want to do all of that again.

“I am so glad you chose to get high with me, you have no idea.” Ellie’s smile is contagious. It has just registered you’ve never seen it like this, laying below her, it felt right.

“Yea let’s do that again sometime soon.” You both laugh a little. Ellie lays her head on your chest and sighs.

“Very soon.”

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