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mariasont · 10 days

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Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

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part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him.

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus.

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain.

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours.

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly.

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth.

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment.

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud.

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture.

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 9 months

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The Rain is Always Gonna Come if You're Standing With Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends. This one took me approximately 100 years to finish because school is eating me alive. This one is based on Peace from folklore, which is an underrated song, in my opinion.

Word count: 12.3k

Warnings: Bucky's negative self image, harassment, slight reader injury, people being assholes

"But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm If your cascade ocean wave blues come All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?"

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, doll-” Bucky said as you swiped the dirty dishes from the table. He made a grab for them, but his enhanced speed was no match for you. You expertly evaded his capture, slipping away from his grasp with almost no effort. You knew him too well, knew his movement patterns and habits. Anticipating his every move was easy. With a cocky laugh, you turned on your heel and headed for the sink.

“Sweetheart, really,” he called after you, “I’ll clean up.”

“But you made breakfast.” You set the two bowls that once held yogurt, fruit, and granola in the sink and turned on the water. “It’s only fair that I do the dishes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and gave a laugh, “that wasn’t breakfast, baby. It was just a… a morning snack.” In only a few long strides, he met you at the sink. His large hands snatched yours and pulled them to his broad chest, halting your efforts to clean.

You cocked your head to the side, “A morning snack, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know we’re going out for breakfast, but I didn’t want you to be hungry.” He added a fraction of extra pressure to your hands, pulling them closer against his body. “I gotta take care of my girl.”

“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you,” you placed a quick peck to his lips. “And because you are so thoughtful and sweet, let me do the dishes.” With a playful tug, you tried to free your hands from his grasp. But Bucky held firm.

He shook his head, “Nope. Not gonna happen.” Suddenly, he released your hands, spun you around, and landed a light slap to your ass; it happened so fast it left you giggling. “You go get dressed, I’ll take care of it.”

Your giggly “sir, yes, sir” floated down the hall as you marched toward the bedroom. This was to be the perfect day. A trip to your favorite bookstore, followed by what you swore was the best chicken and waffles the city had to offer. After breakfast, the two of you were set to visit the new shark exhibit at the science museum, eat lunch in the park, and grab an ice cream from your favorite spot.

Bucky planned it all out, ensuring a flawless blueprint. And while you appreciated his attention to detail, you would’ve been happy with a day at home. All you wanted- all you needed- was to spend time with him.

And time with Bucky was lacking as of late.

He stood at the sink, drying the now clean dishes as emotion overcame him. He couldn’t believe he was here- home- with you. He waited for this day. He hungered and ached for a day without danger, without bloodshed. He waited for a day spent with you. And only you.

He’d just been so busy lately- too busy. Over the past few months, he’d been dragged around the world more times than he could count. His missions only seemed to grow longer. And each time he got the call from Hill, she sent him farther and farther away.

He found himself struggling under the weight of severe, mind-numbing exhaustion. Anxiety. His body threatened to give out with each new wound he received, each drop of blood he lost. But he didn’t mind the constant paint or fatigue. What upset him most was spending so much time away from you.

The two of you lived together now. You shared an address, a roof, a bedroom. The universe somehow allowed Bucky to have a home- a safe, comfortable home- with the person he loved most. But he’d spent so little time there lately that he feared it wasn’t his anymore. That he had no claim to the space. He always felt like a mere passerby upon arriving home, like more of a wanderer than a resident. He always had to stop himself from knocking, had to force himself to use his key.

But who was he to waltz through the front door after being gone for so long? Who was he to act like he owned the place? He thought maybe he didn’t deserve it, this home you shared. And he knew he didn’t deserve you.

Over the past few months, he spent only a handful of nights at home while you held down the fort. You kept things together. He missed out on so much of your life; what if you didn’t want him to be a part of it anymore?

When Bucky did come home, he always showed up in the middle of the night. Sore. Exhausted. He’d drag his body into the bed you shared and pass out before he even got the chance to pull you close. He’d sleep late, his body too fatigued to wake before the afternoon. When he finally stirred, the two of you did your best to catch up. He wanted to hear every detail of your life, and you his. But without fail, the emotion won. You’d cry together, wrapped in the other’s arms, whispering “I love yous” over and over.

And without fail, some world ending threat would interrupt. Danger always found a way to force the two of you apart, isolating you from one another. And only twenty-four hours after arriving home, Bucky would leave. Again.

But over the last few weeks, things started quieting down. It was slow at first. Subtle. But Bucky sensed a shift in the air. He could almost feel the world settling. At first, he thought he’d lost his mind. But Sam, too, felt the earth calming. As did Hill. Whatever sweeping, overwhelming chaos that sent the entire planet into disaster so many months ago seemed to finally lose steam. Fewer calls came in, fewer alerts woke Bucky in the middle of the night.

And three nights ago, Bucky came home for good.

The adrenaline that kept him going for so long evaporated as soon as he made it through the front door. The anxiety melted from his body. It was the only thing, he realized, that kept him upright. And with it gone, his body gave out. He crumbled and collapsed to the floor as sweet relief flooded his every cell. He didn’t care that he was hurt, that he was worn out; he was just happy to be home.

But a sharp shriek flooded his system with fear once again.

You stood frozen in the doorway of your bedroom, just a few feet away, with your hands clasped over your mouth. Tears welled in your eyes. Your chest rose and fell as sharp breaths dragged into your lungs. The sight of his limp body sent you jumping to the worst, most tragic conclusions.

“No, I’m- I’m okay, baby.” With great effort, Bucky pulled himself to his feet.

It was then that you snapped out of your horrified trance. You rushed to Bucky’s side, throwing your arms around his neck, and pressing your body to his. You needed to be as close to him as possible, needed your souls to touch. His arms wound around you and pulled you closer still, desperate for you.

“You’re okay…” you whispered against his neck. It wasn’t a question, but an affirmation.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m home.”

That night, after he took a shower and let you clean his wounds, he planned this perfect day. And though you told him it wasn’t necessary, he wanted to make things up to you. He wanted to apologize for being gone so long. For breaking your heart over and over and over again. For disappearing.

He knew how his absences affected you. Knew you worried about him constantly when he was gone. He noticed the way you bit your nails down to the quick. How you picked at your cuticles till they bled. Your tired eyes looked bloodshot, and your bottom lip chewed raw. He knew your anxiety gave you stomach pain and headaches. Knew that you could barely eat or sleep when he was away.

His constant disappearing act put you through hell. And he hated himself for it. All he wanted- all he ever wanted- was to make you happy. To bring you calm and ease and tranquility. And now that he was home, he swore to himself that he’d give you peace.

Bucky finished with the dishes and headed into the bedroom, hoping to soak up as much time with you as possible. But just as he made his way into the en suite bathroom, your grumbled, aggravated voice caught his attention.

“Oh, what the fuck?” You let out a deep huff, staring down at your phone with a sharp seriousness.

Bucky popped his head into the bathroom, “Everything okay?”

A look of surprise splashed across your face; you hadn’t heard him come in. “Oh- hey. Yeah. Everything is-” you gestured to your phone, “everything’s fine. My friend just sent me a stupid gossip article.”

“Anything good?” Bucky shot you a wink, knowing damn well he was clueless about the latest reality tv drama.

“No.” The word carried a hefty weight and fell to the ground with finality.

Bucky clocked your tone, your expression- both struck him as too serious for a gossip rag. His muscles stiffened ever so slightly at sight of your displeasure.

“Just dumb shit. People writing whole articles over things they have no idea about.” You rolled your eyes and slipped your phone into your pocket. A deep breath acted as a reset to your system, clearing the fog of frustration from your mind. “And it doesn’t even matter, cause we have a perfect day planned.”

Bucky, too, took a deep breath. He relaxed into a smile and leaned against the door jam. “We sure do, doll.”

He was too accustomed to disaster. Always prepared for the worst. The slightest change in your demeanor sent him hurdling toward the worst possible conclusion. His body was home, but his mind remained stuck in a never-ending battle.

“I’m just gonna put my shoes on- I’ll be ready when you are.” Bucky stepped away and did his best to shake it off. ‘Everything’s fine, it’s all good’, he said to himself as he laced up his boots. ‘It was just an article about Vanderpump Rules or whatever.’ His palms dragged up and down his thighs, his chest rose and fell rhythmically. He learned how to self-regulate, to talk himself down, long ago- before he ever met you. It was his only option back then.

The sound of your footsteps bounding down the hall commanded Bucky’s attention. He snapped out his dimly lit world and stepped into your technicolor atmosphere. A comforting sigh of relief spread though his body as he noticed the bright smile on your face. Any evidence of the upset your gossip rag caused was long gone, replaced by an all-encompassing warmth.

“Alright, Barnes,” you grabbed your purse from the hook by the door and slung it over your shoulder, “let’s do this.”

The warm summer air greeted the two of you as stepped out of your apartment building. The busy city pulsed with the possibilities of a perfect Saturday. People passed by with dogs in tow. Cars honked. Birds sang. And finally, things felt right. Everything fell off its axis when Bucky was gone. The world turned in the wrong direction, the sun set on the opposite side. And only his return could set things properly in motion.

“Okay, to the bookstore,” Bucky weaved his fingers with yours and gave you a gentle tug in the right direction, “here we go!”

Bucky never had an affinity for going out in public. He didn’t particularly enjoy the crowded sidewalks or busy subways. Throngs of strangers surrounding him from every angle only ever served to put him on edge. But he’d improved. He’d worked through his anxiety and his fears- all to be with you. It seemed, though, that his paranoia threatened to creep in again. After so much time away, surrounded by danger, he found himself scanning every face on the street, assessing possible threats.

He always experienced some level of recognition in public, sure, but today felt different. Every pair of eyes seemed to bore through him, every mouth whispered his name. His muscles tensed, his jaw locked.

“You okay?” you pulled Bucky to the side, out of the flow of people, “you seem a little on edge.”

“Oh-” Bucky snaked his hand out of yours, realizing all at once the force of his grip. He watched you rub at the sore spots he created and silently cursed himself. “No, I’m good, I’m okay. I think I’m just-” He eyed the area once more, “I think I’m just being paranoid. Is it me or is everyone staring at me?”

Your heart stopped. “Um, no, I don’t think everyone’s staring,” A casual shrug and a shake of your head punctuated your thought. “I think you’ve got some residual adrenaline or something, you know?”

Bucky nodded. “Must be it. I’m sorry about your hand, baby.” He pressed his lips to the indentations his fingers left behind.

“I’ll survive,” you threw him a wink, “but the kisses help.”

The two of you continued your journey with Bucky’s worries only slightly assuaged. It seemed to him that hundreds of eyes raked over him with each passing second, but he forced his anxiety behind a wall. He wasn’t going to mess up this day with you- he couldn’t. He didn’t know how many chances he had left, and if this was the last one, he couldn’t afford to ruin it.

Block after block passed as you and Bucky got closer to the bookstore. Sure, there was a similar shop only a few minutes from the apartment- but it wasn’t as cute or as special as the one in the village. And Bucky wanted this day perfect. He’d do anything to make you happy. And so, he sucked it up and vowed to make the trek with you, no matter how nervous the public made him.

But with only a few blocks to go, you pulled him to the side once again.

“Hang on, shoe’s untied,” you attempted to bend down and tie your loose lace, but Bucky refused to let you. He, instead, knelt on the sidewalk and gave your shoe a proper double-knot.

He stared up at you with adoration in his eyes and a warm smile on his face, “this is almost like a Cinderella moment,” he joked. “Except I-”

Something caught his eye.

And before you had the chance to intervene, he was gone. He forced his way past cyclists and families with children, his body seemingly drawn in by a magnet toward whatever grabbed his attention. He stood with his back to you, examining a newspaper box.

“Come on, Buck, no one reads the paper anymore,” you laughed, attempting to sway his focus. But he didn’t move.

His gaze remained on the grainy photo of the two of you holding hands outside your building. For the second time that day, you scanned the headline: ‘SERIAL KILLER’S PR RELATIONSHIP: The Winter Soldier’s Attempt to Win Over the American Public’.

“What- what is this?” Bucky looked to you for help, for context. “Why did someone wrote about us?”

A haunting sense of hopelessness filled his eyes, leaving you gutted. And though he wanted to look away, he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from the page. Each second spent examining the harsh headline caused him more pain, more anguish.

He truly couldn’t believe what he saw. And he couldn’t believe he’d dragged you into the crossfire.

“Hey, don’t pay it any mind, okay?” You fought to meet his eyeline, “It’s just stupid gossip-”

A realization flashed across his face, “is this what you were reading this morning?”

A slow nod confirmed his fears. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, I just-”

Bucky snatched a paper from the box and began reading at lightning speed. With each sentence, the dread filling his chest grew heavier. “Hydra’s deadliest weapon has a new victim,” Bucky read aloud. “though she hasn’t been bloodied or brutalized…yet. We’ll see just how long Barnes’s new PR ‘girlfriend’ survives.”

The words cut him deep. They wormed their way into his brain and unearthed the fears he’d long tried to put to rest. He knew he was wrong to be with you. He was wrong to indulge in his feelings for you. Dating you meant putting you in danger, and he’d known that all along. But you were never scared of him- and if you were, you didn’t show it. This article, however, cemented his belief: your relationship was a ticking time bomb; being Bucky’s girlfriend meant signing your I love you’s in blood.

“Wait-” he dragged his eyes upward and met your anxious stare. “What does this mean- what’s a ‘PR relationship’?”

You rolled your eyes at the phrase, just like you had earlier that morning, “’public relations relationship’. It’s a fake relationship that’s been arranged by a PR firm. People usually do it to get publicity or fix their public image after a scandal.”

Bucky knew there was more to your answer, and he had enough questions to last till dinner. But the article was long- too long. He knew it had to be full to the brim with the most brutal, vile rhetoric possible. Reading it would hurt, yes. But he needed to know exactly what the article said about him, about you.

He buried his face in the paper once more, only surfacing to share a line or two with you. “They think you’re being paid to date me? That we’ve been doing something called-” he double checked the article, “‘pap walks’? What’s a pap walk?”

Even in times of crisis, Bucky’s lack of modern knowledge still managed to pull a smile from you. “It’s where you call the paparazzi so they can take pictures of you, but you pretend it was spontaneous.”

Bucky looked stunned, “Why would anyone do that?”

You shrugged, “you’d be surprised.”

People took pictures of Bucky without his permission constantly- it happened all the time. They snapped photos at the grocery store and on the subway. And no matter how subtle they tried to be, Bucky always clocked it. He could almost feel the lenses on him. But he didn’t notice the person taking this picture on the front page. Maybe if he had, he could’ve stopped it. Maybe he could’ve saved you from being exposed like this.

He shook his head and disappeared once again into the disgusting story written about the two of you. He didn’t care much what they said about him. People hated him- that wasn’t knew information. And though he didn’t love being one of the most reviled men in history, he’d come to terms with it. But now that someone dragged you into the fray, the fire within him reignited.

“His new ‘girlfriend’ functions as a means of improving the public’s opinion of Barnes and humanizing the ex-Winter Soldier. It’s a PR strategy we’ve seen a million times- one that could possibly salvage Barnes’s reputation,” Bucky read aloud. He eyed the people who passed, waiting until they crossed the street to continue.

“But what if she herself is no angel?” He rolled his eyes at the thought. “Surely, no one in their right mind would risk their life to date a proven serial killer. So, it’s entirely possible that she herself may not be in her right mind. Maybe she, too, is a criminal. Acting as Barnes’s new love interest could possibly knock time off her sentence or hours off her court mandated community service.”

Bucky stared at you, aghast. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I- I can’t believe they’d say that about you…”

“Buck, it’s okay,” you shrugged. “We both know I’m actually in love with you for real. I don’t have a prison sentence to shorten or community service hours to perform. And the last time I checked, no one is paying me to date you.” You cut a glance to the newspaper box, full of papers with front page coverage about you and Bucky, “I’m not worried about their bullshit.”

Bucky’s grip on the paper tightened, crinkling the edges. “But why’d they have to drag you into it? You haven’t done anything wrong-”

“Neither have you,” your tone was insistent, steadfast.

“We both know that’s not true…” Bucky loved your support, your assertions that he was an innocent man. But he never believed them. He knew he had blood on his hands even if you couldn’t- or refused to- see it.

“We both know you had no choice,” your rebuttal didn’t waver. “But, speaking of things that aren’t true,” you gestured toward the paper, “they also dropped Sam’s name.”

Bucky scanned through the article until he found the paragraph in question. “Why put in the effort to clean the blood from Barnes’s tarnished reputation? Two words: Sam Wilson,” Bucky paused his reading and stared up at you with wide eyes. All you could do was nod.

“Barnes and Wilson have been seen together on many occasions and have even been photographed on Wilson’s family boat in Louisiana. But Barnes’s association with Sam Wilson, AKA the New Captain America, only hurts the Captain America brand. Even if the two did take down the Flag Smashers as a team, Barnes is a bloodstain on the brilliant red, white, and blue of Wilson’s Cap.”

Hearing the words aloud twisted the knife. Sure, skimming the article hurt, but listening to Bucky read every last disgusting word hurt you in ways you never imagined. He deserved better. He deserved a world that loved him. A world that welcomed him home and celebrated his life. He deserved a fucking medal of honor for simply surviving what Hydra put him through. But he didn’t get medals or high praise; he, instead, got spit on by people on the subway.

“But if this new woman improves Barnes’s image in the public eye, his destruction of Wilson’s mantle may be mitigated.”

Bucky balled up the paper and crushed it into the nearest garbage can. His hands shook with anger, with anxiety.

“I hadn’t even- I didn’t even think of that…” he leaned against the newspaper box, dejected. “I didn’t realize I was ruining Sam's reputation just by being friends with him.” Despair darkened his expression. He knew getting close to people was selfish- he just never realized how selfish. And in one fell swoop, he ruined the lives of the two people he cared about most.

“You’re not- you’re not ruining anything,” you took Bucky’s face in your hands, cradling his cheeks. “These kinds of stories are all made up, baby. There’s no sources or actual information for them to work from, so they just write whatever will get them the most attention.”

Bucky’s gaze fell downward. “I don’t know, doll…”

“But I do. I know.” Your words came out desperate, pleading. Something inside of you shook with a frantic need to mend Bucky’s broken heart. You’d never seen him this despondent, this torn apart. “And I’m not gonna let you doubt yourself because of some low budget, piece of shit gossip article.” Regardless of the emotion holding you hostage, your voice didn’t waver. You stood firm in your conviction, determined to help Bucky find his way out of the spiral. “I love you. I love being with you. I missed you so much- I hate when you’re gone. And Sam- Sam loves you, too. I mean, not as much as me…” you shot him a wink. “But he is your best friend. He cares about you. And I can guarantee that he’s never- even for a second- thought that you were ruining his reputation.”

Bucky gave a shake of his head.

“Hey, you know Sam doesn’t care about that kind of stuff- he doesn’t give a shit what people think.” Sam knew Bucky as the ruthless assassin, the broken fugitive, and the rehabilitated man seeking amends. He’d seen the darkest, most twisted version of Bucky created by Hydra- even fought against him. But he didn’t see Bucky as a villain anymore. He saw only his friend, the tortured soul who tried his best every day.

Bucky lifted your hands from his face and held them to his chest instead. He gave a deep, heavy sigh that vibrated under your palms. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. Part of him wished to go back into cryo and escape the stares of the world.

You could see him crumbling, collapsing in on himself like a dying star. He was drowning in his own mind, and you offered him a life preserver. “Hey, I know it must feel fucking awful to see a story like this about yourself. And I know you hate that Sam and I are involved. But it’s not your fault.” You gripped his t-shirt in your fists, desperate to get your point across. “This whole thing is so predatory and evil- it’s killing me to see you hurting like this. But I swear to you that this does not matter to the rest of the world. they won’t even notice.” Bucky’s stare sliced through you. Something in his eyes appeared hopeful- but only for a moment. The brightness died suddenly, replaced by despair.

“Seriously, Buck, people these days don’t even have the attention span to read an article this long.” Bucky didn’t laugh at your attempted levity. You dropped your joking tone and grew serious. “I don’t want you to think that this changes anything- it doesn’t. This will not have any ramifications. It will all blow over. The news cycle moves so fast now- by tomorrow, this same shitty paper will publish something that’s, like, ‘Elton John is secretly an alien.’”

Bucky didn’t answer. He simply rested his shoulders against the cool, brick wall and let his head fall back. He wondered if the fear people held for him would ever subside, if he’d ever be seen as anything other than a monster. His legacy was soaked in blood. It hung over his head every day, dripping crimson onto his skin. No shower could undo the stains- no matter how hard he scrubbed, he’d always be the stuff of nightmares.

“Okay, hey, how about this,” you reeled Bucky back in, saving him from the dark recesses of his mind. “Let’s just go home, alright? We can hole up and hide out. Watch movies, order takeout. We’ll just stay out of the public eye until this bullshit blows over.”

The offer enticed him. Escaping the stares of strangers, their horrified expressions- it sounded idyllic. The thought of just the two of you snuggled together on the couch, marathoning all of What We Do in the Shadows with Chinese takeout in hand was tempting. Bucky could feel the ‘yes’ forming on his lips. But at the last second, he refused with a shake of his head.

Bucky made a promise to you. After being an absentee boyfriend for months, he planned out the perfect day and swore on his life to deliver. He couldn’t break any more promises- not after he was gone for so long. And he had so much to make up for. So many date nights and lazy weekends fell by the wayside while he was away. He racked up a stack of debt in your relationship, and if he didn’t start paying it off soon, he feared you’d cancel his account.

But he knew you- knew you didn’t care about these things. You didn’t consider him accountable for the time he missed or hold a grudge against him. You were gracious- too gracious- of him. And if he rattled off his reasons for refusing your offer, he knew you’d sweep them aside. He knew you’d lead him home without hesitation and stay cooped up inside until the world eased up on him. And you’d miss out on your perfect day.

Bucky wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I think it’s actually better if…” he eyed the people passing, certain they were shooting the two of you dirty looks. “I think it’s better if I just go about my day. If we go home and hide, I’ll obsess, you know? I’ll get trapped in my own head.” He quickly tacked on an addendum, “but if you’re not okay being out in public right now, I understand. They involved you in this mess, too.”

You shrugged, “it doesn’t bother me. I know our relationship is real. That’s all that matters.”

And for a split second, Bucky’s worries disappeared. You were so sure of your love for him. So unbothered by what everyone else had to say. You didn’t let the opinions of others get to you; you loved Bucky, end of story. You adapted to every hurdle and challenge brought on by dating the ex- Winter Soldier. And you did so with a smile.

“Okay, good. Then I guess our next stop is the bookstore,” he said with a small smile. You tried to turn and head in that direction, but Bucky caught your hand, stopping you. “And hey- if anyone on the way there gives you trouble, you just say the word, okay?”

But no one gave you any trouble. The walk to the bookstore was quiet. Unremarkable. No one hollered close-minded comments at Bucky. No one gave either of you venomous glares. The calm shocked Bucky. He’d been so sure that this day would fall apart. That everyone who read that article would converge on the two of you all at once, harassing and degrading you until you retreated home. But no one said a word. The two of you simply strolled hand in hand, soaking in the warm summer sun. And Bucky’s hope for a perfect day renewed.

“I thought it would be in this section…” Bucky scanned the ‘fantasy’ section of the bookstore, searching for a specific novel. He took the high shelves, and you took the low, meeting in the middle after a fruitless search.

“Yeah, I didn’t see it, babe,” you rose from your squatted position, two mystery novels under your arm. “Maybe you should ask an employee? I can stay here and keep looking, just in case we missed it.”

“Yeah…” Bucky gave the area another cursory glance, to no avail. “That’s a good idea. I’ll be right back.” He dotted a kiss to your forehead and set off in search of a clerk, leaving you behind to double check the shelves.

The hundreds of books lined up in perfect rows put you at ease. This shop was the coziest place in the city, a peaceful paradise free from the noise. And spending a Saturday morning with Bucky, wandering amongst the many titles, felt like home. Your fingertips brushed over a few of the spines, tracing the ornate lettering in search of Bucky’s book.

“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice brought you back to reality, halting your hunt.

“Oh, sorry,” you took a few steps out of the stranger’s way and continued your search, only for her to interrupt once again.

“No, I want to talk to you!” her intense energy was out of place in the small, quiet bookshop. The eagerness in her voice rubbed you the wrong way. “Is it true?”

You stared at her, a blank expression on your face. “Is what true?”

“The whole PR relationship thing!” She pulled out her phone and shoved the article in your face, “I read about you two this morning.”

Your hands tightened into fists. Your jaw tensed. And though you wanted to wring this woman’s neck, you kept your cool; Bucky wouldn’t want you to get into a fight on his behalf. With a deep breath, you quelled the rage building inside you. You set down your books and relaxed your shoulders, forcing your breathing to steady.

This stranger had no right to ask invasive questions about your relationship, and no right to ruin your favorite bookstore. “Our relationship is none of your business,” you said, and turned back toward the bookshelves. This stranger didn’t deserve your eye contact, your attention, or your mental space. “Please, leave me alone.”

“Oh, duh! I bet they made you sign an NDA, didn’t they? I get it,” she threw an all too friendly chuckle in your direction. “Can you at least tell me what they’re paying you?”

With that, you brushed past her and attempted an escape. All you wanted was to find Bucky and put this whole interaction behind you. But she followed, phone in hand, recording the whole thing.

“Are you a criminal, too? Are you getting time off your sentence or something?” she called after you.

You let it go.

“How’d they get you to agree to this arrangement?”

You ignored her.

“Aren’t you scared? I could never do what you’re doing,” she said. “No amount of money could ever get me to be near that man- he’s a serial killer. He’s a monster!”

Something inside you snapped. You whipped around, rage burning behind your eyes. She crossed the line. She didn’t know anything about Bucky, only what the papers and tabloids said about him. And she

deserved to pay the price for speaking about him so harshly. But just as you opened your mouth to tear her to shreds, a large hand rested on your shoulder.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky stared down at you, “What’s-”

Your harasser’s eyes widened. “Oh my god,” pure terror rendered her white as a sheet. “It- it’s him…” Clumsy steps carried her backward as her phone slipped from her hand. She scrambled for it, desperate to run in the opposite direction. Breathless, horrified sounds fell from her lips. Her hands shook. You watched with a smile as she snatched her phone from the floor and tripped over herself as she high tailed it for the door.

Bucky eyed the woman as she knocked over displays and ran into other customers. “What was that about?”

You gave a shake of your head, “nothing. She was just hounding me about the article.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly. Hit brow grew furrowed. “Oh, baby…” he sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t follow me around and ask me invasive questions.” You stretched up on your toes, planting a kiss to his cheek. “It’s not a big deal. I just hope I don’t end up on her Tik Tok.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open, “she was filming you?”

You nodded. Bucky’s face fell.

A rushed “Don’t worry about it, though” pushed its way past your lips. It had an over-the-top cheery tone and a thick affectation of reassurance. You could practically hear Bucky’s heart splintering and shattering with each passing second, and you had to stop it. “I’m sure she’s gonna watch it back later and delete it when she hears her own panicked panting,” you shot him a wink.

And you waited. Waited for the gears in Bucky’s mind to turn. To grind. The devil and angel on his shoulders fought one another, bare knuckled, to convince him of their arguments. The devil told him to spiral, to jump headfirst into a dark sea. He told Bucky this was all his fault, that you’d been harassed, followed, and filmed all because of him. The angel, however, urged him to listen to you. To take a deep breath. To hold your hand. To understand that the article wasn’t his fault- none of this was his fault.

And after a long moment, he slipped his hand into yours. The gesture was a bit reluctant, sure, but you didn’t care. He’d resisted the urge to plummet into guilt and shame. And that’s all that mattered.

You let loose a deep sigh as relief spread through your every cell. “Let’s get outta here, okay? We can head back home and-”

“What about breakfast?”

You eyed Bucky for a moment. “You still wanna go?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” he gave you a small smile. “I know how excited you were about it.”

Of course, all he cared about was you. Your happiness. Your enjoyment. Your love for this diner’s chicken and waffles.

“We can just go another time,” you assured him. “It’s no big deal.”

Bucky sensed the disappointment, no matter how slight in your voice. He couldn’t ruin this day for you. He couldn’t let you down again.

But he thought about the walk to the diner, the hordes of people you’d encounter on the way. And just like that, he felt his manufactured mask of optimism slip.

A sudden rush of what if’s pummeled his psyche. He imagined more harassers filming you, more unhinged strangers following you. He heard them yelling the most despicable things in your direction, hurling insult after insult your way. The voices grew into a loud, almost violent cacophony that rattled inside Bucky’s skull.

He couldn’t let you be exposed to the cruel world like this. He couldn’t take you to breakfast when an angry mob threatened you at every turn. You didn’t deserve to be yelled at, to be disrespected. And what if they turned violent? What if someone followed the two of you home? He couldn’t risk your safety like that.

But he still had to make up for all his time away. All the lonely nights you spent awake, wondering if he was still alive. All the weekends you spent alone, missing him until it hurt. And he’d made a promise- to himself and to you- that he’d rectify the pain his absence caused.

Plus, he had to be over-reacting, right? Assuming the worst out of people he didn’t even know- it wasn’t fair. Sure, a stranger followed you around and gave you a hard time. But she didn’t hurt you. She didn’t even try to get violent. It was all in Bucky’s head- he was sure of it. He made a conscious effort to release his shoulders from their tension-locked position and forced a deep breath into his chest.

“No, doll, really. It’s okay,” he gave your hand a squeeze. “I can tolerate a few dirty looks.”

The second the two of you stepped out of the bookstore and onto the busy sidewalk, you clocked the way hung his head. The way he hid from the eyes of the city. He tried to shrink himself, to protect himself. The confidence, the self-esteem he’d worked so hard to build came crumbling down in an instant. This wasn’t your Bucky, but the Bucky of years before. The Bucky who hated every fiber of his being. The Bucky who took every harsh word spoken about him as gospel. The Bucky who punished his innocent body to make up for his tortured mind.

The reemergence of this Bucky twisted the knife with which the article stabbed you and rubbed salt in the wound.

The walk to the diner brought out your chatty side. Filling the air with lighthearted anecdotes and silly jokes seemed to you like the only way to keep Bucky afloat. If you could distract him from the pain, from the potentially hateful onlookers, maybe this day could be salvaged. But, much to your surprise, not one person harassed the two of you. No one asked questions or followed you around. Not a single errant camera flash dotted the street. Hope rose in Bucky’s chest. Maybe this perfect day could still go as planned. Maybe he could still keep his promise.

When you arrived at the diner without issue, Bucky found himself almost laughing at his own dramatics. He knew he worried too much, that he always considered the worst possible outcomes. He saw the world through a dark and stormy filter, always casting shadows over reality. But to his delight, he’d been wrong this time.

The bell atop the diner door gave a delicate jingle as the two of you made your way inside. The place had an old-timey feel that brought Bucky a sense of comfort, a sense of home. Large families sat packed like sardines in every booth. Tray after tray of French toast and eggs benedict passed by. The smell of bacon and golden-brown pancakes instantly pulled his lips into a smile. It seemed to Bucky that this joint was the real deal. He couldn’t wait to try the chicken and waffles you raved about. Couldn’t wait for a syrup-sweetened kiss.

“For two?” the hostess asked when you made your way to the front of the line. You gave her a nod.

She eyed the section to her left, appraising the area for an opening as a busboy waved in her direction. “Okay, this way,” she grabbed two menus from the host stand and gestured for you to follow.

But just as you attempted to trail her through the sea of tables, a booming voice caught your attention.

“Hey!”

The restaurant quieted. Heads turned in the direction of the outcry.

A large, gray-haired man with a soiled apron stepped into the hostess’s path, blocking her way. A deep crease formed between his furrowed brows. Sweat dotted his bright pink cheeks. This was the face of a man who stood over a hot grill for twenty-five years. He was familiar, but only vaguely so. You could’ve sworn you’d heard that voice before- though with a kinder intonation. And then it hit you.

During your last visit to the diner, he stopped by your table to ask how you liked the food. He was so kind, so even tempered. He thanked you for choosing to spend your Sunday morning at what used to be his father’s restaurant. He was so proud of the old place. So compassionate for its time-worn booths and outdated wallpaper. He told you how he worked in the kitchen for so long that now, even as the new owner and manager, he couldn’t stay away from the griddles.

But the kind-hearted man you met last time was long gone.

“Not in my restaurant!” He ripped the menus from the hostess and dismissed her with a sharp wave of his hand. He glared at Bucky, his eyes brimming with hate. “We don’t serve murderers here!”

The lighthearted chatter died out altogether. Forks stopped clinking against plates. Children halted their laughter. Hundreds of eyes locked on Bucky as his cheeks burst into a red flush.

“Get out before I call the police!” The man took a step toward the two of you, “You’re not welcome here, you psycho.”

“You can’t talk to him like that!” you barked back. “He isn’t-”

“Baby, don’t,” Bucky cupped a hand around your upper arm and tried to gently pull you toward the door. “Let’s just go.”

“No,” you cut your gaze back to the manage, “not until he apologizes.”

Bucky gave your arm another tug, “please.”

The desperation in his voice nearly made you crack. His eyes swept across the room and back again, taking in each and every horrified stare. With each taunt the manager threw his way, the weight of the public eye grew heavier. More suffocating. Their stares pushed Bucky’s shoulders forward and his head down. He was crumbling.

Not one person stood up for Bucky. No one- aside from you- called the manager out. No patron even gave a disapproving shake of their head. It sickened you.

With a small nod, you obliged Bucky’s request, and let him lead you out of the restaurant. The stares followed him the entire way.

Bucky wanted to disintegrate. He wished to, once again, turn to dust and evaporate into the breeze. If he ran, he could put a few miles between himself and this godforsaken diner in minutes. But he found his feet rooted into the ground. He was frozen. Trapped. Running wasn’t an option.

He leaned against the cool glass window of the diner and let himself process. He heard you talking a mile a minute, reassuring him until you ran out of breath. But he couldn’t pick out more than a few words. It wasn’t until a defeated apology fell from your lips that he snapped out of his trance.

“Wait- you’re sorry?”

You nodded. “I’m so sorry, Buck. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His gaze fell into a strange middle distance, landing on everything and nothing all at once. “I should apologize. That article… it ruined everything. I feel like I-” His eyes met yours, “your life is never gonna be the same after this.”

You gave him a shrug, “who says I want it to be?”

His eyes met yours as an exasperated laugh left his chest, “You’re kidding, right? This is going to affect everything for you: jobs, housing, friendships. When people look you up online, all they’re gonna see is that article. They’re gonna see me.”

“Good. I want them to see you,” you said with a wink. “If I’m gonna date the hottest guy in the universe, I want everyone to know about it.” Bucky didn’t laugh. “Babe, I’m not worried about that kind of stuff right now. I’m worried about you.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his gaze fall to the sidewalk below. “I’ve been through worse.”

The worn-out, beaten down quality of his voice was enough to make you weep. Bucky didn’t deserve more pain. He didn’t deserve to be treated like a monster. But society cast him out and labelled him a vicious predator. They abandoned him, left him in a corner to rot and wither. All alone.

And you weren’t going to let them do it again.

“Fuck that article and fuck all these people who wanna disrespect you.” You tilted his chin upward until his eyes met yours, “we’re gonna go home and order take out. We’re gonna watch some movies. And we’re gonna get through this bullshit together.”

Without another word, you slipped your hand into his and started off in the direction of home. But Bucky didn’t move.

You turned back to him, an expectant look on your face. “You coming?”

“But…” he gave the diner another look, “You didn’t get your chicken and waffles.”

“What?”

“You should go back inside and eat,” Bucky pulled his hand from yours. “I’ll head home and-”

“Buck, I say this with love, but-” you cupped his face, “are you nuts?”

He let out a deep, genuine laugh.

“I’m not gonna eat here ever again,” you spied the manager through the window, “fuck that guy.”

Bucky just wanted you to enjoy the breakfast you’d been dreaming of. He hated that you were willing to deprive yourself. That he’d ruined your special breakfast spot. But your fierce loyalty filled him with warmth. In that moment, he made a mental note. He planned to scour the internet and find the best chicken and waffles in the city to make up for today’s mess.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Bucky said. “You were ready to fist fight that guy.”

You put up your dukes and landed a few faux punches to Bucky’s chest, “hell yeah I was. No one is allowed to treat you like that.” Your hands fell to your sides. A sudden seriousness eclipsed your joking tone. “Ever.”

Bucky pulled you in for a hug, holding you close to his chest. He never thought he’d have someone like you in his life. Someone who loved him. Cared for him. Supported him. But, without fail, you had his back every time. You were his safe harbor, his soft place to land.

Sometimes, he thought that maybe you were with him by accident. Maybe he was never meant to experience your gentle kind of love. Maybe he interrupted you on your path to someone else. Maybe he somehow got tangled in fate’s thread. But he didn’t care.

You took Bucky’s hand once again, prepared to lead him in the direction of home, “Ready?”

Bucky gave you a cheery nod, “let’s-”

“Fuck you, murderer!” a passerby shouted. He disappeared in a flash, bold enough to insult Bucky but cowardly enough not to hang around for the consequences.

Bucky thought the man might’ve said something else as he bolted from the scene, but he didn’t quite catch it. He was too distracted by the vague sounds of discomfort grumbling out of your chest.

“Doll? You alright?”

Slowly, carefully, you turned to him. A look of shock yanked his features upward as he came face to face with the massive coffee stain covering your body. It splashed over the entirety of your chest, streaking down the front of your shirt. Steam still wafted from the drips running down your neck. Rogue droplets dotted your arms.

“Oh my god…” Bucky didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help you.

The boiling tidal wave seared through your skin, setting each nerve alight. You could’ve sworn it hit bone. The sudden rush of pain forced a trembling into your hands, an unsteadiness into your voice. A stinging rush of tears brimmed against your lash line, but you wouldn’t dare let them fall. Not when you could practically see Bucky choking on his guilt.

“Wow, I wish that asshole was more of a cold brew guy,” you joked. “And he ruined my favorite shirt with his shitty aim.”

Bucky’s chest seemed to fold in on itself. It shuddered and shrank, collapsing against his thundering heart. Each inhale was shallower, greedier than the last. Oxygen leeched from his lungs as the crushing panic set it. An ever-darkening shadow clouded the edges of his vision- but he couldn’t succumb. Not when you needed him.

Before he knew what was happening, he used his body to form a protective shell around you. He ushered you toward the diner door, scanning the area for oncoming threats. No one else was going to get to you- not today, not ever.

A deep sigh of relief left Bucky’s chest as he ushered you inside. Sure, it was only coffee. And you weren’t even the target. But every passing second brought a new, horrifying ‘what if’ to the forefront of Bucky’s mind.

What if you’d been thrown to the ground?

What if you’d been shot?

What if vengeful people wanted to spill your blood as payment for Bucky’s crimes?

He thought he might throw up.

But the second he made it to the hostess stand, his nausea dissipated. The fog clouding his mind cleared. You were his priority- everything else could wait.

“Someone just threw hot coffee on her,” Bucky said to the hostess. His words came out quick, firm. “She needs ice now.”

The hostess’s features sunk with a heavy guilt. “Oh, shit. I-” She glanced across the room at the manager and watched him with narrowed eyes as he schmoozed with the regulars. “I’ll go grab some right now, give me one second.”

The seconds dragged. Anxiety coursed through Bucky, prickling at his every cell. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Bit down on the inside of his cheek. Anything to calm the worry. But he couldn’t help it; you were attacked- because of him. And he needed to remedy it as quickly as possible.

“You doing okay?” He stared down at you, worry creasing his features.

You nodded, “yeah. Doesn’t hurt that bad anymore. I think all of my nerves have gone numb, ya know?” You attempt at humor sunk like lead.

“Baby, I’m so-”

“What the fuck did I say?!” the manager stomped over to Bucky, his wrath on full display. “I’m calling the cops! I already kicked you out once-”

Bucky held up a hand in surrender, “We just need some ice- the hostess went to get it. As soon as she gets back, I’ll go.”

The manager rolled his eyes, “No- you don’t get anything from us. Leave! I’m calling the police!”

It was then that the hostess appeared with a large plastic bag full of ice. She looked at you with kind eyes, apologizing silently for her manager’s behavior. “Here you go. Is this enough? I can get more-”

“It’s plenty, really,” you hastily grabbed for the bag and pressed it to your scorched skin. The cool sensation flooded your senses, doing away with any remaining discomfort. “Thank you.”

“Great, you got your ice,” the manager spat, “now get out.”

Bucky thanked the hostess a hundred times over as guilt settled in his stomach. He knew she’d get in trouble for helping him. He knew the manager would scream at her- most likely in front of everyone. But she’d shown the two of you kindness. She did her best to help you in a moment of need, regardless of what others said. And it renewed Bucky’s faith in strangers- if only for a moment.

“How does that feel? Is it okay?” Bucky eyed the dripping bag of ice, the shivering in your fingers. “I can ask her for-”

“Hey! Do you speak English, or just Russian?” The manager yelled, “GET. THE FUCK. OUT. You understand?”

Part of Bucky wanted to disappear into a cave for a while. Wanted to hide from the ridicule. But he couldn’t check out. He couldn’t evaporate and leave you to fend for yourself. No, he’d made a promise to himself the day he met you; he swore he’d always protect you. And though he couldn’t stop the public from treating you with malice, he could at least get you home safely.

“Woah, hey- where are you going?” Bucky put a hand over yours, halting your attempt to open the diner door.

“Well, I don’t know if you heard the lovely manager of this fine establishment,” you said, “but he wants us to, and I quote, ‘get the fuck out’. So that’s what I’m doing.”

Bucky gave a fervent shake of his head, “No. You wait in here. I’m gonna get us a cab, and-”

“It’s okay, I’ll come with you.” You gave the door a tug, but Bucky kept it from budging.

“Don’t,” a dark seriousness clung to Bucky’s words. “I don’t want anything else happening to you.”

Bucky’s protective nature was always sweet. Always made you feel special. You couldn’t help the tiny grin that pulled at your features. “Babe, it was just coffee-”

“This time,” a grave look ghosted over his face. “It was just coffee this time.”

Bucky let his eyes drift to the busy sidewalk outside. Every stranger, every passing face posed a threat to your safety. Anyone could have a knife. A gun. And while Bucky was certain that the hot coffee had been meant for him- that you were simply collateral damage, an unintended target- he feared how the city might treat you. You’d already been followed, harassed, filmed, attacked. People saw you as fair game, as a token of retribution. An eye for an eye that made the city blind with hate.

“Can you just-” He dragged his gaze back to you, “will you please wait inside?”

Bucky couldn’t remember ever being this scared. Not on the train, not at Hydra. This was different; this was your life at stake. Your vulnerabilities exposed to the world. It was as if a magnifying glass sat posed above you, giving anyone and everyone a detailed look into your life. Bucky knew there wasn’t much time before the rays of the sun burned you alive.

“Okay, yeah,” you released the door handle, “I’ll stay in here.” It was the least you could do.

He was deathly pale, his hand shaking with anxiety. He worried about you so intensely that you sometimes feared he’d get sick. And though no part of you wanted to send Bucky out there alone, you agreed.

His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly; the whisper of a smile crossed his face. “Thank you,” he dropped a kiss to your forehead and headed outside to the world that hated him.

And hate him they did. You watched from the diner window, the scene that played out filling you with anguish. Not a single cab even slowed down for him. Vacant taxis turned off their lights as they approached- only to turn them back on once they’d passed. Bucky’s shoulders grew more slumped with each unsuccessful attempt at hailing a cab. His head drooped; his expression grew pained. This wasn’t fair. After his pardon, he’d worked so hard to earn the public’s trust, to reenter their good graces. He made his amends, went to therapy, even did a few interviews at Sam’s suggestion.

One poorly written article in a shit-rag paper, however, was enough to send him back to square one.

All Bucky wanted was to get you home safely, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t even provide something that basic, that simple. He cursed himself relentlessly as taxi after taxi flew by. He was supposed to protect you, to take care of you. And yet, he was the reason for your pain. Your peril. It made him nauseous.

After countless failed attempts at securing a ride, Bucky turned to face you. He stared at you through the dirty glass, shame and disappointment dragging his features downward. For a long moment, he just stood there. Completely still. Passersby bumped into him every now and again. People muttered under their breath about him being in the way. But he didn’t move. He just looked at you, the person he loved most. You, the person he cared for above all else. You, the person he couldn’t protect. Couldn’t provide for.

Part of him thought it best to just walk away. His absence would make your life easier, less chaotic. Safer. If he left you alone, maybe you’d find someone else. Someone normal. Someone better. Someone who could take you out to breakfast without putting you in harm’s way. Someone whose mere existence didn’t prompt strangers to scream at you in public.

But he couldn’t leave you- ever. He was bound to you from day one.

One last fruitless attempt at catching a cab sent his heart sinking down, down, down to the soles of his feet. And as he approached the diner with his tail between his legs, he felt himself stepping on it with each pace. He was so embarrassed, so ashamed. With a quick wave of his hand, he beckoned you to the door and popped his head inside.

“Baby, could you…” he was almost too downtrodden to speak. “Could you get us a cab? No one will-” he cleared his throat, “No one will stop for me.”

The look on his face hurt worse than your scorched skin.

“Of course, Buck. Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

It wasn’t lost on Bucky how quickly a cab stopped for you. It took less than a minute, maybe less thirty seconds. He stood on the sidelines, as far away from you as he could possibly get without leaving you defenseless. You looked good out there on your own, free from his burden.

The cab ride home was quiet. Uncomfortable. The driver eyed Bucky in the rearview as though appraising a threat. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles lost all color. You swore you heard the gas pedal hit the floorboards more than once. The car sliced through traffic and screeched to a halt outside your building, throwing you forward in your seat. The seatbelt tightened against your scalded skin, pulling a groan from your throat.

“Thanks. Um,” Bucky handed the driver a wad of cash, “keep the change.” He kept his focus trained on you but couldn’t pretend he didn’t notice the way the driver flinched. The way his muscles yanked his body in the opposite direction. The way his hands shook as he took the money. Bucky wished to evaporate.

But he couldn’t, not yet. Not when you needed him. And so, he walked you upstairs and ushered you into the small apartment you shared. He double and triple checked the deadbolt, even pulled on the door to ensure your safety. He couldn’t let anything else happen to you- he’d rather die.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go take a shower,” you broke the tense silence. “I reek of cinnamon soy latte.” The laugh that punctuated your sentence did nothing to brighten Bucky’s stormy expression.

“Sounds good, doll,” he nodded. “You can just drop your clothes in the hall, I’ll throw them in the laundry for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you frowned down at your coffee-stained shirt, appraising the damage done. “I don’t think this thing can be saved.”

Bucky shrugged, “It couldn’t hurt. I’ll give it a try.” He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, “it’s the least I could do.” And with a light tap to your ass, he sent you off to shower. The gesture wasn’t as lighthearted as it was just a few hours earlier, but he was trying. Trying to appear less dejected. Less broken.

But you saw through the façade.

When you emerged, free from the smell of coffee, you found Bucky in the kitchen standing over the kettle. He stared down at it, his hands resting on either side of the stove top, his shoulders nearly reaching his ears. You knew that look- he was lost inside his own head.

“You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to watch that thing…” you said, snapping him out of his train of thought. “Otherwise, it’ll never boil.”

His head snapped up. The darkness clouding his eyes parted. He smiled at your lame joke, letting your lighthearted tone lift his spirits. “I was just gonna make you a tea, I know you haven’t had the easiest day.” He just wanted to right the ship, to steer the two of you out of the dark, choppy waters in which you found yourselves. Maybe, this small, kind gesture could make up for your ruined Saturday. Maybe, it would keep you from leaving.

“How was your shower?”

Just thinking about it made you wince. “It was fine, I guess. I had to use the coldest water possible- any warmth at all made my skin hurt.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked from your face to the kettle and back. Worry creased his brow. “Should I not…” He sighed, “Are hot beverages out of the question?” He couldn’t believe how absentminded he’d been.

“No! Definitely not,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “you know I’ll always take a tea. Thanks, babe.”

A small, proud smile spread across Bucky’s face. For once, he didn’t disappoint you. For once, he didn’t ruin the moment. After such a nightmarish day, he finally breathed easy, knowing that he’d done one thing right.

“I was thinking I could run out and grab us something to eat,” Bucky said when he got you settled on the couch with your tea and a fresh ice pack. “I know you’re probably starving. And I could-”

“Baby, no,” you shook your head. “I don’t want you out there- I don’t want you getting harassed or attacked. We’re in hermit mode for a few days until this whole thing blows over. Okay?”

Bucky barely mustered a nod.

“Let’s just order some take out. What sounds good?” You dropped your ice pack to the side, grimacing at the loss of the cool sensation. But comfort could wait. You opened your laptop and sat up, poised to take Bucky’s order. But he didn’t answer.

He remained silent for a long while, eyeing the floor with a blank stare. His nails dug into the palm of his hand; his jaw tensed. Something deep within him fought tooth and nail to claw its way out. It scratched at his insides, screaming for release. Bucky didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to even chance upsetting you. But the words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

“Do you ever regret this?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Regret what?”

“This-” Bucky gestured to himself, and then you. “Us.”

The words hurt worse than your scorched chest. “No. Why would you even say that?”

Bucky shrugged, “Because you’re covered in second degree burns and it’s my fault.” Never before had he ever sounded this broken, this hopeless. Not even after Steve left.

“Buck, it’s not your fault,” you shut your computer and inched closer to him. “You’re not the one who threw hot coffee on me-”

“But the person who did was aiming for me, and you got caught in the crossfire,” he choked out. “That’s my fault.”

“It’s not-”

He stood suddenly, his anxiety forcing him to move. “Can you deal with this for the rest of your life? All the staring and the harassment? And the hiding at home because everyone hates me? Is that the kind of life you want?” He paced with a fervent drive, fearing that if he didn’t burn through the nervous energy, he’d suffocate under it.

But, even in the face of his frantic movements, you remained seated, remained calm. Talking to Bucky in this state was like coaxing an injured animal into your home. One wrong move, and he’d bolt. Every move, ever word, had to be slow, measured. With an even tone and soft words, you refuted his sentiments. “I want whatever kind of life lets me be with you-”

“You want people throwing coffee on you forever? You want-” He paused, only to place your icepack on your chest once again. “You want to be kicked out of restaurants and denied cabs? Just to be with me?”

One small nod. “Yes.”

Bucky stopped in his tracks. He turned to you, his expression blank. “People used to vandalize my apartment, you know…”

“What?”

He nodded. “After I finally came back to New York and tried to settle in…” The memories of those uncomfortable, disjointed days filled Bucky with dread. He’d never been so lonely, so lost. He pulled away from you, fearing he’d complicated your life. He forced himself into isolation. And to make matters worse, his community turned their back on him. They didn’t welcome him home or celebrate his survival. They made him wish he’d never made it back. “They broke my windows, filled my mailbox with pictures of my victims, used animal blood to write ‘KILLER’ across my front door-” He let out a heavy sigh, one that came from deep within his bones. “That’s why I moved so often. My landlords- no matter how sketchy they were, no matter how much illegal shit they did to their tenants- kept kicking me out. I was too much of a liability, even for those shithole places.”

It left you reeling. Images of Bucky coming home to find his place completely trashed hurt you in a way you didn’t know was possible. You could see him, covered in blood, scrubbing his front door in the middle of the night. Wiping tears from his eyes as he looked through piles of photos of the people he hurt. Taping pieces of cardboard over his broken windows in the hopes of keeping out the severe, violent winters. He didn’t deserve any of it.

With a deep breath, you forced yourself back to the present. “Buck, I don’t care about things like that. They can vandalize our place if they want. They can throw coffee at me.” Slowly, carefully, you rose from the couch. “As long as nothing happens to you, I’m happy.”

A rough scoff launched out of Bucky’s throat, “Come on-”

“No, you come on,” Your words came out too intense, too hard. But you couldn’t maintain your even keel anymore. Not when Bucky was moments from unraveling. “I have been in this with you since the day we met. I knew- almost immediately- that you were the person I wanted to be with. Even when you didn’t know where- or who- you were. Even when you went back into cryo. Even when you turned to dust and disappeared for five years.” Dredging up the past hurt. It sliced you open and tore your heart into pieces. But you didn’t dare fall apart- not yet. “Even when you pushed me away,” your voice wavered, “I have been with you- and I always will be. Because I know who you are. I know you’re a good person.” A few tears dripped down your cheeks, “I don’t want anyone else. I want you.“

“Why?” Bucky shook his head, “I don’t- I can’t understand that.”

“Because you’re just- you’re you, baby,” you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Bucky’s existence. “You’re kind. And you’re thoughtful. And you’re compassionate. You care about everything. Everyone. I’ve never met anyone with a heart like yours…” You shrugged, “I love you. So much.”

“I know you do. And I love you, but…” His eyes dropped to the floor, “I feel like being with me is a waste of your time. A waste of your love. You know? You should be with someone good. Someone with less baggage, whose hands aren’t stained with the blood of innocent people.” He dragged his gaze up to meet yours, desperation in his eyes. “I want to give you everything- I want to give you the world. But I can’t. I can’t give you what other people can. I can’t give you what you deserve.”

“I don’t want any of that- I don’t want the world,” you shrugged. “I want you.” To you, it was simple. Completely uncomplicated. But Bucky didn’t see it that way.

“Is that- am I enough, though? I mean, the quality of life I’ve given you so far has been…” He thought back on all the terrors and trials you’d face together. All the disasters to which he subjected you. He shuddered. “Everything I put you through is so fucking messed up. And scary. And painful. And-”

He shook his head. Since the day he fell for you, he knew one simple truth. And for years, he did his best to deny it. Hide it. Run from it. But it came spilling forward all at once.

“There’s always gonna be something with me. Some problem, some mess. I’m either gone for weeks, fighting god knows who, completely unable to talk to you until I show up at home covered in blood,” he said. “Or I’m here with you while strangers to accost you on the street because they hate me.” He shook his head, disappointed in himself. Why did he allow you into his dumpster fire of a life? Why would he subject you to the heartache and the misery he knew lurked around every corner?

He fought the tears gathering in his eyes, the emotion that attempted to block his airway. “The waters are never going to be smooth. Not with me. And I don’t want you to have to deal with the fucking tidal wave of bullshit that is my life. You deserve better- you deserve better than me.”

“Buck-”

“I want your life to be safe. Peaceful. Comfortable. Not-” he gestured to the icepack on your chest, “whatever it is now.”

Without a word, you took him by the hand and led him to the couch. And for a long moment, he refused to sit with you. He didn’t want to give in, to lower his defenses and allow himself to get comfortable. But your red-rimmed eyes, glassy with tears, forced him to take a seat.

And when he finally rested beside you, you ditched your icepack and took his face in your hands. “Everything you said that you want for me? I already have it. I have all of that.”

He shook his head, “Doll-”

“You make me feel safer and more comfortable than I ever have. Being with you is like being wrapped in a warm blanket made of bullet proof bubble wrap.”

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from letting out a quiet laugh.

“I’m serious. You can talk about how the life I lead with you isn’t enough and how you’re not enough, but this,” you gestured to yourself and then him, “is everything I’ve ever wanted. Being here with you in our home is… it’s the most peace I’ve ever known. Even when we’re just sitting in silence, it’s- it’s warm. It’s comforting.” You inched closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, “It’s like we’re the only two people on the planet. And we can just exist in the other’s atmosphere without pressure or fear. We understand each other. And it’s perfect.”

A rush of pink colored Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes, even after all the years he’d spent with you, he didn’t know how to handle such loving sentiments. But there was no pressure to perfectly articulate his thoughts or express himself without flaws. A simple “I love you” did the trick. He leaned into you, allowing your warmth to soothe his aching soul.

“All that shit that happened today didn’t even bother me much,” you told him. “The lady in the bookstore, and the staring, and the coffee thing- I can deal with that kind of stuff. I can take that every day as long as I get to be with you.”

He pressed a kiss to your hair and caught a vague whiff off coffee but didn’t bring it up.

“The only part that really upset me,” you continued, “was seeing people be so mean to you. And watching you get so down on yourself.” Reliving Bucky’s heartbroken expression at the diner almost made you tear up. “I can handle a rogue Starbucks, but I’ll never accept anyone treating you like that. You're everything to me- you always will be.”

Bucky handed you your icepack, begging you to put it back on your scalded skin where it belonged. “Well, I appreciate your support," he smiled to himself, "and your fierce loyalty.”

A mischievous laugh rumbled out of your chest. “Good. Just remember than when I call you from the county jail after I get arrested for burning that fucking newspaper to the ground.”

---------------

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pursuedbyamemoryy · 7 months

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₊˚⊹ your sweet lips on my lips 🧸

about : first kiss and early mornings w mike <33. title is a hozier lyric from like real people do!!

warnings : a little longer than usual!! 1.5k words. they/them pronouns used for reader ( once lol )

author’s note : I WANT TO KISS HIM SO BAD AAAAAUGHHHH. i’m so obsessed w him my brain is him and him only

your breaths were slow and steady as you slept in an uncomfortable position on mike’s couch. the tv was on low volume in the background, playing reruns of some old sitcom that your parents probably watched as kids. you were tucked under a small throw blanket that was always draped over the back of the couch, and a couple of your limbs were dangling over the edge of the cushions.

you were looking for work and mike had hired you to babysit abby. although with the hours you were at his house, it was more of just making sure abby was asleep and then more often than not, falling asleep yourself. the pay wasn’t great, but you didn’t mind. you really liked abby, and got along with her well. and well… her brother had caught your eye. he was a bit of a loser, sure, but you found him endearing. you admired how hard he worked in order to support his younger sister, it was clear she meant a lot to him. plus he was always kind to you.

while getting to know abby and becoming a more prominent person in her life, you also passingly got to know mike. abby had plenty of stories to tell, and you would often have short conversations with him before or after his shift. she had even let it slip once that mike was interested in you, and may or may not have a crush on you.

“my brother talks about you a lot, you know.” abby said oh so casually as you were helping her get ready for bed one night.

“is that so?” you quirked a brow, suddenly very intrigued at what secrets she might spill. you had harbored feelings towards the man for a while, probably as long as you’d been babysitting abby for. you always thought he would never reciprocate your feelings, and therefore decided to keep quiet about your crush.

“yeah, he says you’re pretty and you make him happy. and he’s glad you get along with me. he likes that” she said, looking up at you as you tucked her blankets around her.

you felt your cheeks grow warm, and a smile broke out on your face. “that’s good to know. he makes me happy as well, both of you do.”

“he also said he wishes he had time to get to know you more. i think he likes you. do you like him too?” abby inquired as she snuggled into the covers.

you thought carefully for a moment before responding. “i do, yeah. and i would definitely like to spend time with him if i’m given the chance. but that’s enough for tonight, it’s already late. sleep well, abby. i’ll be in the other room if you need me.” you press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before standing up and leaving her bedroom for the night.

that very brief conversation with abby stayed on your mind for the following days. when mike came home early the next morning you were more flustered than ever when you spoke to him. since then you had been trying to find a way to make your feelings a little more known, hoping one of you would have the courage to finally confess.

keys jingled and the front doorknob rattled as mike let himself into the house. it was quiet, as it was just past 6am. the only sounds were the faint conversations of the show on the television, and the sound of his own footsteps padding across the floor. he set down his keys and kicked his shoes off before making his way into the living room where he saw you fast asleep. he quietly picked the remote off of the coffee table and turned the tv off.

although he wasn’t quiet enough, and you started to stir. “abby?” you asked tiredly. you blinked up at mike, slowly starting to sit up as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

“nope, it’s me. sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” he replied quietly as he set the remote back on the table. “did everything go alright with abby?”

you sat quietly for a moment, trying to find your thoughts in your sleep hazed brain. “yeah, she ate a good amount of her dinner and then we hung out and watched tv for a while before she went to bed. how was work?” you had pushed away the blanket and now sat upright, looking up at mike. he looked tired, which was to be expected. despite his exhausted features he looked handsome, although this wasn’t a new discovery.

his voice shook you out of your thoughts. “it was boring, but it pays.” he shrugs. “want some coffee?” he leaned his head in the direction of the kitchen.

“coffee sounds good” you smile. he starts to walk toward the kitchen and you follow behind him. damn, his butt looks good in those pants.

“i always feel bad falling asleep, i feel like i should be the one making coffee and breakfast for you.” you noted lightheartedly. you were trying not to gawk at him, which had been proven increasingly difficult after abby told you that he was in fact interested in you.

“i appreciate it, but it’s no big deal, really. i understand it can be a little boring being here all night. i trust you with abby, so if you need to sleep, sleep.” mike replied tiredly. you made a mental note to try and at least make coffee for him before he came home in the future.

once in the kitchen, he started gathering everything he needed to make just enough coffee for the both of you. you leaned against the counter, your back facing the wall. the two of you stood in comfortable, sleepy silence as the coffee brewed.

once the coffee maker had stopped gurgling, signaling the coffee was done, he grabbed two mugs out of the cabinet and poured you each a cup. you added the ingredients to make it just the way you liked it before taking a sip, nearly burning your tongue.

you could feel his eyes on you. not in a creepy way, but in admiration. he took a sip of his own coffee, his eyes lingering on your frame. you let your gaze wander back to him, meeting his own. you gave him a smile as you took another sip of your coffee.

"i uh.. would you like to go out with me one day? just us?" he stammered. he averted his gaze to his coffee, swishing the dark liquid inside to distract himself.

you smiled, giggling to yourself. it seems like abby was right about mike's feelings for you, not that you doubted her. you took a moment to collect yourself before responding. "yeah. yeah, i'd love to."

"he looked back up at you with a goofy smile on his face. "okay, cool. does tomorrow night work?"

you nodded, "yeah, that's perfect." you knew abby wouldn't lie to you about how mike felt, but it still made you giddy when he actually showed that he had feelings for you. you glanced over at the little digital clock on the stove. 7:08am. you took one last sip of your coffee, placing it down on the counter. "i should probably go, i have an appointment that i need to get to. you have work tonight, right?"

he looked disappointed, but nodded. "yeah. i'll see you later then?"

you nodded in response, "yeah, of course." you stepped closer to him, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

his cheeks immediately flushed and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. he’s had other partners and had been in relationships before, but it had been so long since he was as infatuated with someone as he was with you. you were still close to him, and he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours. he paused to make sure you were okay with it, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to.

but you didn’t. you leaned in further and pressed your lips to his briefly, somewhat hesitantly. he grabbed your hip, holding you firmly but gently. he kissed you again, this time with more confidence. this kiss was longer, more passionate, and it only increased the feeling of butterflies flying around in your stomach.

“took you guys long enough. are you boyfriend and girlfriend now?” a small voice comes from the other side of the room. you and mike quickly pulled away from the kiss, much more flustered now that you had been caught by mike’s youthful sister. neither of you had heard her approach, and were startled at her sudden presence.

after recovering from the slight embarrassment, you looked at mike questioningly to see if, and how he would answer abby’s question.

“i sure hope so” he smiles, his attention focused back on you. “it’s up to them though.”

“i’d like that” you smiled back at him.

#pursuedbyamemory writes #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's

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thecreelhouse · 2 months

Text

crystal clear

Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

WC: 14k (i am so sorry)

Summary: What started as friends “helping” one another out, turns into something much more than either of you anticipated. Secrets are revealed, mistakes are made, and confessions are confessed.

This is the 3rd and final part of this lil unnamed roommate trilogy! You can find part one and part two here!

CW/Tags: language, smut, PiV sex, oral sex (m & f receiving), cum play, super brief anal play, free use, praise kink, humiliation kink, switch!steve & switch!reader, cockwarming, choking, jealousy, angst. Lots. Of. Angst., hurt/comfort everywhere, internalized biphobia, weed mention, happy ending i promise!!

A/N: this took way longer to write than I expected, and apologies for the late post, I had too many technical difficulties 😭 major thanks to @stevenose for hyping this up and helping me on some parts<3 this one’s long as hell, and there’s a LOT going on, but I hope y’all that enjoyed the first two like this one as well. thank you for the support on the others!! <3 title is from a hayley williams’ song by the same name lol.

“Is it weird yet?”

The first time either of you asked the question in the backs of both of your minds, Steve had you bent over the bathroom sink, pulling your hair, forcing you to watch as he railed into you relentlessly.

You can’t remember who asked first, but neither of you answered it. Not out loud, at least. You were too busy moaning Steve’s name to worry about the question.

“Isn’t this kinda weird?”

The question came from you, after Steve came home from a failed date, a failure you silently celebrated. He was in a funk, not expecting anything, but you offered, so how could he say no?

Because turning down the offer of you riding him until he cried—his request, comfortably carried out by you enjoying the mini power trip over your roommate, seemed foolish. You did your best to hide how smug you felt that Steve’s date didn’t work out, so when you offered to cheer him up, and he begged on his knees to touch you, you’d be insane to turn down the opportunity.

“People do this? But that’s… weird, isn’t it?”

“So… what if you’re not in the mood? ‘Cause I don’t wanna initiate anything when you’re not feeling it. Like, I get that’s the whole point, but I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable—”

You’re laying on Steve’s bed, the morning after fucking around when you got home from the bar. It didn’t last long, with the two of you too drunk, too tired, getting handsy but being clumsy messes while laughing and falling over one another multiple times.

Instead, you fell asleep in his arms, and you wanted to kick yourself for it.

You’ve been trying to distance your feelings from whatever kind of roommates-with-benefits dynamic had appeared between the two of you, but fuck it wasn’t easy.

“What if I wear something specific when I’m cool with it?” You suggest, tugging on the scrunchie on your wrist. “If I have this on my wrist, you’re free to do whatever.”

Steve was leaning against his dresser, arms crossed as his eyes were glued to your figure, barely covered by an old shirt of his while it clung to the softest parts of you.

He wishes you didn’t look so goddamn cute in his clothes.

“Uh— yeah. Yeah, that works, I guess— ” Steve pauses to overthink. Again. “Are you sure this isn’t too weird?”

“Babe,” It slips out, making you stall as you sit up, clearing your throat to brush past it. “If I thought it was too weird, would I be the one to suggest this?”

Steve blushes, in the way where it’s so much red across his face, it blooms to the tips of his ears. He can feel it, brushing his hair over his ears, ignoring the look you give him.

“Right… Uh, so what should I do? Like, to show you I’m cool with it?” Steve’s puzzled on how this even works, or who would find this hot to begin with. Yet with each confession of what turns you on, the quicker it is for him to get harder with every, and probably any fantasy.

“You want a scrunchie too?” Steve rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t dim the red hue across his face. You giggle at how flustered he is while pulling a thin, black hairband from your other wrist, holding it out. “Would this work?”

Hesitantly, Steve takes the hairband before slipping it over his hand. “Okay, but… What if someone says something?”

You snort, “First of all, it’s just an elastic band. People won’t know. And if anyone’s inspecting your wrists that closely, they’re just fucking weird.” He slips it onto the other wrist, the one his watch is always on, hoping it blends in better. “Steve, now I can’t see it.”

He rolls it over his hand before stretching it between his fingers, playfully shooting it back your way. “Fuck it, I won’t use anything.”

“You sure? That’s— what if I did something when you’re not in the mood?”

“I’ll tell you.”

“Immediately?”

“Immediately. I swear.”

You’ve appreciated how easy it’s been to talk about whatever either of you want, or don’t want. This roommates-with-benefits thing might’ve been awkward, still is if you’re being honest, but talking about boundaries from the start with Steve gave one less thing for the two of you to worry about.

He rubs his jaw, lost in thought. “What’s it called again?”

“Free use, but If you’re not comfortable, or just want it to be one sided, don’t be afraid to tell me.”

“N- no! ” Steve shouts quickly, immediately embarrassed by how desperate he sounds. “I mean… what’s off limits for you?”

You smirk, twirling the scrunchie between your fingers. “Nothin’. You?”

Steve exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Uh… I wanna say nothing, but… if something happens that I’m not cool with, or you’re not cool with, we can stop, right?”

“Yeah, Stevie. We’re not doing this if either of us aren’t into it. If I do something to you that you don’t like, tell me, okay? It’s just like fucking around any other time, but a lil’ more… exciting.”

With a scoff, he sits next to you on the bed, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were bored when we fuck. You never sound like you’re bored when you’re shouting my name.”

You elbow his side, ignoring the way your stomach flips, “Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How’d you even find out this was a thing?” His curiosity’s going to kill him someday, he just knows it, but he can’t stop himself from asking. “I doubt those romance novels get that filthy.”

“Um…” You retreat into yourself, growing shy. “I might have, like, a teensy tiny stash of some… movies… and stuff.”

Steve’s face lights up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“You? Since when?!” He’s smirking while regret sets in; should’ve kept that one to yourself. “Wait. Why haven’t I seen you in the back at work?”

Laughing, you admit, “Steve, why the hell would I go where you work to rent porn? I’m not that much of an idiot.”

“Well— I- I wouldn’t make fun of you, y’know.”

Again, you bark out a laugh, “Bullshit, you totally would, especially if you saw wh—” You freeze eyes darting away as your laughter dies in your throat. Steve’s lit up like a fucking city skyline now.

Why, oh why did you have to be cursed with such a big mouth?

“Say it,” He taunts, a smirk growing on his face. “Tell me.”

“Harrington, I’m not telling you a damn thing.”

Steve nods a few times, like he understands, then shoots a mischievous look. “Where’s the tapes?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“Neither was your vibrator dying, but look, it brought us to some good things, right?”

“Th- that’s different, Steve.” You can feel your face heating up, your skin prickling as he puts you on the spot, hand resting on your thigh as he studies your expression.

Leaning in, his voice drops low as he asks, “How different are we talkin’?” His palm is warm, long fingers already close to your heat without even trying.

“Steve…” The warning tone in your voice means nothing to him right now; your gaze follows the direction his hand heads in, inching closer to where you want him most. Where you always want him. Where you always need him.

You expect him to stop, but his fingers ghost over your cunt, covered by the sweet, heart-patterned fabric of your panties— his favorite pair. You shiver as he adds some pressure, slowly rubbing along your sensitive core.

“What, did talking about being used like a slut make you wet already?” Steve taunts, chuckling as you roll your hips forward, trying to chase the feeling he’s barely giving you. “Tell me where the tapes are, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You shake your head, biting your lip to hold back any noises that might give him satisfaction and an ego boost. He mocks you with a pout and a whine.

“Well, guess I’ll have to find ‘em myself,” Before you can register what Steve says, he’s out the door and rushing to your room, while you’re left to shake yourself out of the fog of lust he left you in.

“H- hey! Don’t you fucking dare!”

When you make it to your room, Steve’s on his hands and knees, snooping under your bed. “Not there…”

“Steve, please, ju- just drop it.”

“Why?” He’s having way too much fun teasing you like this, but you’re embarrassed, wishing you could take your confession back. He’s casually opening drawers in your dresser, peeking inside each one with no success. “You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t want me to see.”

“I— there’s some stuff I wanna keep to myself, I didn’t mean to say anything.” You’re digging your nails into your palms as they roll into clenched fists.

“Thought you liked being humiliated?” When Steve brings it up, it’s part of the teasing, until he looks up to see your uncomfortable body language. He steps away from the drawer he was digging through before making his way to you.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” He comes over to you, cautious as he watches the way your fingers curl into your palms and tense into fists, while you look at the floor, trying not to cry. “I promise I didn’t see anything. And I- I’m sorry for invading your space.”

Steve looks ashamed, and you feel bad. He didn’t know your tears were serious, but you’re already consumed by your own emotions.

You finally look at him, bottom lip curled into a wobbling pout, eyes glassy, “Can I be alone for a bit?”

“You- Yeah, f’course,” Steve automatically wants to comfort you, but he fights it off, just like the time you came home after your awful day, giving you the space you need. “I’ll be…y’know… yeah.”

Steve gently shuts the door behind him, leaving you to cry in the comfort of your own solitude.

···························

A few hours pass, with Steve spending most of it curled up on the couch, trying to mindlessly watch a movie, but he can’t get his mind off of you. He feels horrible that he didn’t catch onto your emotions earlier. He was hoping you’d come out by now, but you’ve been holed up in your room since you asked him to leave.

In the few moments he wasn’t consumed by his guilt, Steve’s thoughts would be spinning, trying to figure out what was on those tapes that would make you so upset if he saw them. Maybe you were just into kink. He wouldn’t judge you for that, everyone’s got their own… interests.

What if they contained something violent, or dark? Again, he wouldn’t judge you, but he’d be concerned for you and your safety. Then again, if it’s between two consenting adults, it’s none of his business.

Still doesn’t stop him from wishing it was his business.

All this time, up until the vibrator incident, Steve had every right to believe you were such a sweet, innocent person. Now, he’s not so sure, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Steve’s so wrapped up in his own spiraling thoughts, he doesn’t hear you open the door, or walk into the room. Instead, he notices you when you drop a cardboard box on the floor near him, startling him out of his layered overthinking.

“Holy fu— ” He sits up and rubs his eyes before locking his view with yours, heart sinking over how tear stained your face is. How swollen your eyes are. Had you been crying this whole time? “… Hi. What’s— are you— ” Steve’s unsure what to ask first: “what’s in there?” or “are you okay?”

You make it a point to sit on the floor, far from Steve. Crossing your legs underneath you, you’re beginning to pick at your nails nervously, unable to look at him.

“That’s what you were looking for earlier,” You rasp, fighting off another wave of tears.

Steve’s tempted to rip the box open immediately, but he restrains himself. “Honey, if you don’t want me to see, it’s okay. I had no right to dig around earlier, even if I was just joking. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I- I’m so sorry I did. And if it makes you feel better to keep this to yourself, we can forget about all of this. I’ll never bring it up ever again.”

His sweet, apologetic rambling just makes this heavier for you to bear. You lean into your hands, face buried in your palms as you groan, frustrated. “Steve, sometimes I wish you were a dick, because it’d make shit like this so much easier.”

“What are you talking about?”

“At this point it’s just… look, it’s probably for the best you know about this, since we’re fucking around.” You murmur into your hands. “Let me know when you’re disgusted and want me to move out.”

Steve’s brows furrow, really concerned now. “I’d never… I don’t want you to leave. Why would you think that?”

You sit up but look away from him, giving a weak gesture towards the box. “You’ll see.”

Again, Steve hesitates, but you look at the box as you still avoid his gaze, nodding in reassurance. “This isn’t a trick, or anything. I’m letting you— I’m showing you what you should know.”

So, carefully, he opens the box’s flaps one by one before peering inside; Steve slides off the couch and to the floor next to the box, pulling out a tape.

It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before; some tacky porno, with sleazy cover art and a corny title. It’s got your standard, generic shot of a man fucking a woman from behind, with her hands bound in front of her and a blindfold over her eyes.

“This…” He stops himself before finishing with ‘is nothing’, because maybe it’s still a big deal to you. “It’s not worth getting yourself upset over. Why’d you think I’d hate you for this?”

You shake your head. “That’s not the one I’m worried about. I didn’t take anything out, figured I might as well show you everything. Keep going.”

Steve sets the tape on the coffee table before reaching into the box again, pulling out another tape. Similar design layout, but the cover photo is of a woman sitting back, pulling her legs up and back with her, while a man slips a plug into her ass. Steve flips the case over, finding the same couple, positions switched while the woman rims the man.

Steve chokes down a moan, thrown off that you’d be into this, and yet, it’s still not shocking enough to him to warrant kicking you out.

“Y’know this isn’t that bad either, right?”

“Yeah, that’s not the one I’m— you’ll know it when you see it.” You murmur, looking over at Steve, clearing his throat as he adjusts himself on the floor, playing it off like he’s finding a comfy position to sit in. You wish you could tease him over this, but you hold off, knowing he’s going to hate you any minute.

Steve continues plucking tapes out of the box, examining each one, still unsure what would have you so distraught if he were to find out.

Bondage? No big deal. Choking? He kind of figured out you liked that the first time the two of you fucked. It’s common. Free use? You just broke that down for him, so it can’t be what has you upset.

One of the tapes has a few kinks sprinkled throughout; gangbangs, exhibitionism/voyeurism, orgasm denial, femdom—

“Jesus, this one’s got everything, huh?” Steve tries to break the tension, but you don’t laugh. “This… this was the one, right?”

You huff out a mirthless laugh, pulling your knees to your chest before resting your head on them. “I fucking wish, Steve.”

He can’t stand how hard this is hitting you right now. “I don’t need to know, not if it’s going to hurt you. Seriously, it’s your business, whatever it is, and that’s okay. We all have our secrets, right?”

“Jesus fucking christ, Steve.” You scoot over to him and the box, digging to find the one you’re worried about.

“Hey, wait— ” He holds your arms softly, looking into your cry-worn eyes, only making your bottom lip quiver again. “Seriously, you don’t… whatever you’re hiding isn’t for me to know, clearly. And I’m not going to take something that personal to use as leverage to kick you out— why would you even think that? I love living with you. No weird kink is gonna change that.”

The last part almost makes you laugh. Almost.

You wish the way he said he loves living with you didn’t make your stomach flip, either. Any other conversation, that'd be one of the sweetest things he’s ever told you, but you know that’s going to change once he’s too disgusted with you.

When Steve stopped you, your hands had already grabbed the tape. You pull it out, tossing it on the table before pushing yourself back, away from him as you anticipate the worst.

He’s quiet for a bit as you watch his eyes fall on the cover, taking in every detail, flipping it over to read whatever the corny summary says. He looks back at you and just shrugs.

Steve just fucking shrugs.

“Threesomes are… not a big deal. Like, at all.” He doesn’t say this to belittle you or your feelings, more to assure you that there’s worse to worry about than liking porn about threesomes.

You start crying again, silently, as you hug your knees to your chest again. “God, Steve, please don’t make me spell it out.”

As his brows furrow while looking over the tape again, he gives another shrug. “I feel stupid— ”

“You’re not stupid, I promise. I’m just scared to say it out loud to you.”

“Okay, two girls, one guy, having consensual sex together. I genuinely don’t g— ” It hits him, and he feels a little sick, not from your silent confession, not from the topic itself, but the fact he didn’t get it sooner. He hates how he dragged this out, only making you more upset. “... Oh.”

You’re not straight. You clearly still like men, but attraction doesn’t stop there for you. He glances down into the box, finding another tape, one of just two women together. It looks like the one peeking out under that is similar, too.

“Yeah. Yep, okay, there it is.” You push off the floor to your feet, sniffling. “Well, it was cool being friends and… whatever the fuck, but I’ll pack and get myself out as soon as I can.”

Steve scrambles to get up, following you down the hall as you head towards your room, beating you to the doorway. He stops in the frame, blocking you from retreating to the bedroom.

“We’re talking about this. You can’t just… you can’t just drop that and expect me to brush it off, or be disgusted with you. Neither are happening.” Steve’s tone is firm, but everything he says is with care. Your eyes well up with inevitable tears. “Hey, honey, look at me.”

You try pushing past him, but he refuses to let you in. “Stevie, p- please— ”

“No, enough with the hiding. I know this is scary to talk about, but please, don’t shut me out.” He moves into your room, gently pulling you in with him to sit on your bed. “Can I be cheesy and thank you for sharing something so personal? That’s not easy for anyone, but you still did. Even if you thought you had to, that took guts.”

You reach for a pillow to cry into, and Steve doesn’t stop you, just lightly hangs his arm across your shoulders. You lean into him instantly, hugging the pillow for a moment before abandoning it, wrapping your arms around him instead.

“I thought you’d hate me,” Your voice is so small and shattered; it kills Steve that your fear has been weighing so heavy on your mind and heart. “That’s why I was so scared for you to find the box.”

“Nothing could ever make me hate you, angel. I’m sorry I caused so much stress for you.” He hugs you tighter, wishing he could take back these last few hours.

“It’s not like you knew. I’m not mad at you, Steve. I should’ve told you sooner.”

That shouldn’t make Steve huff out a laugh, but it does. The noise he makes turns into a silent, shoulder shaking laugh as he holds you. You’re so confused.

“Steve, what the fuck? You just told me— th- this- none of this is funny.”

He tries to control his laughter, and he does, but only for a moment. A quick pause to kiss your forehead. You push him back, reading his expression, still bewildered.

”I’m sorry, I— ” He runs a hand through his hair as he stifles his laughter, more successful this time. “— lemme grab something quick, okay?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer, just gets up and rushes to his room, snickering a few times to himself. You’re left baffled.

What the fuck just happened? And what the hell is so funny?

There’s sounds of some movement floating out of Steve’s room, soft grumbles of “where the hell did I put that?” and “jesus this is heavy”, making you smile, ever so slightly. He’s only gone for a moment before he returns with an old milk crate, carrying VHS tapes and magazines, it looks like.

Steve sets it on the bed next to you. “This… this is funny.”

Your brows furrow, still trying to understand what the hell he’s talking about.

“You can look, y’know.”

Most of the content is tacky porn, just like yours, mostly straight couples—

Wait.

You’re about to grab a tape, one similar to the film you showed Steve; another threesome porno, but this one has two men, one woman. It doesn’t take you more than a second to get it.

You snap your head up to look at him, holding the tape up, lost for words. “Are you— shut up. You’re joking.”

Steve leans back against your headboard, hands behind his head, almost appearing smug, but he just finds the coincidence really fucking funny. Sure enough, he starts laughing again. It’s not cruel, nor does it have a sharp edge. It’s just his usual warm, sweet laugh.

“I’d never joke about this. I swear.” His smile is like sunshine peeking out from behind the clouds on a stormy day, making you feel comfortable, happy, even. You’re not alone in this, you don’t have to be. Feelings aside, Steve proves time and time again how thoughtful and kindhearted he is as a friend; a completely different person from who he tried so hard to be back in high school.

“You didn’t have to tell me— n- not that I’m upset you did, just hope I didn’t pressure you to say something by being such a crybaby.”

“No, no way. When you said you should’ve told me sooner, I figured well, shit, I might as well come out to you, too.” Steve admits, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I was scared you’d hate me.”

Your heart sinks; why does coming out have to be such a nerve-wracking event? Sometimes even dangerous if you confide in the wrong person. You’re grateful that’s far from the case here.

“I could never hate you, Steve. Never ever.” Though sincere, your attention falls back on the crate, eyes dancing over all of the tapes and magazines when a certain photo sticks out like a sore thumb.

He notices the way you pause, eyes falling on the familiar white border of a Polaroid, peeking out among the mess of filth. He lunges to grab it, but you beat him to it. Your jaw drops with a gasp at the lewd image.

“Steve, this is— ” He reaches out to grab it, but you push back, stumbling as you stand before rushing across the room, Polaroid in your hands. You stare at the photo in awe.

Striding across the room, Steve makes his way to you, about to grab the photo from your grip, “Give it back— ” You hide it behind your back while you’re against the wall, tucked in the corner with a smirk.

“Fuck no, this is karma for making me cry,” You giggle, causing relief to wash over Steve. He’s not even mad about this. He’s just happy to hear you laughing after today. You spin around, head ducked against the wall, studying the photo. “You’re so pretty on your knees, Stevie.”

Steve ignores how your comment makes his stomach flip, sneaking his hands around you to snatch the photo back. Eyes rolling, he jokingly grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, you had your fun.” You twirl around, attempting to grab it back, but he effortlessly holds it high above your head. He tries playing off the blush that rises up his neck and to his cheeks over your comment.

You can’t help thinking, How’d you even fit that into your mouth?

Steve chokes on air, eyes wide, “W- what?”

Apparently, you think out loud now.

“M’sorry,” You whisper, cringing at yourself. Steve just shakes his head as he clears his throat between laughs. He ends up sitting at the edge of your bed, tugging you closer to him, hands in yours.

Glancing up, he locks eyes with you while softly asking, “Are you disgusted by me?”

You stare at Steve, unsure if he’s joking or serious. “What? Because you’re not straight? No way, why would you even ask— ”

He holds his arms out with a lazy shrug. “There ya’ go, there’s my answer to you, too.” It takes a minute for you to understand what he means.

Why does he always have to be a smug little shit when he’s right?

“Okay, wait. Why the fuck were either of us worried? We’re both still friends with Robin, even after she came out.” You and Steve lock eyes before bursting out into laughter.

“It- it’s different when it’s just a friend!”

“Thought we were just friends.” Steve forces a teasing tone to his words, but maybe you’d answer differently this time.

“Well, yeah, but— it’s different since we’re fucking.”

So much for that.

It’s silent for a beat before Steve mutters, “We’re both morons.”

You smirk, “Now, that picture on the other hand, disgusts me,” Steve’s smile falters, your words making him nervous. “Because it looks like you’re totally better at deepthroating than I am.”

His jaw drops, face flushing red. “Okay, listen—”

“That’s a compliment, I promise!”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Steve plucks the scrunchie on your wrist back, letting go to softly snap against your skin. “This still okay?” Your breath hitches as you nod, feeling a hand slide to the small of your back, bringing you even closer to him.

“You- you don’t have to ask, that’s the whole point,” You rasp, trying to suppress the breathy, light groan threatening to break.

“Oh, I know,” Steve gets up, smirking down at you over how flustered you look. “Just wanted to make sure.” He slides past you to reach for the crate of filth before leaving the room.

Resisting the urge to let out a disappointed groan, you mutter under your breath, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m not,” Steve quips as he walks by your room. Now you groan dramatically, and he just laughs while making his way down the hall.

Two can play that game.

You find Steve in the kitchen, looking around in a drawer, until you come up behind him and slam it shut. Startled, he jumps, and you take the opportunity to flip him around to face you, hands grabbing his hips before pinning him to the counter.

“Whoa— ” Steve’s eyes are wide at the abrupt maneuver, “—what are y- you- oh, shit.”

In the blur of manhandling him, Steve didn’t realize his pants are already around his ankles, not until you begin stroking him slowly. He grips the edge of the counter as a shuddered breath slips out, watching you from under hooded eyes.

You spit onto his length, coating his skin for a smoother glide, one that makes his hips buck roughly, challenging the grip you still have on one of them. When he settles down, you lick slowly along the underside of his cock, eyes locked on his as your tongue makes its way to the base, then down to his balls.

As you begin lapping and sucking, Steve’s head falls back against the cabinet, a classic move you usually make; halfway through one of the prettiest moans he’s made yet , he grumbles an “Ow, what the fuck?”

Naturally, you laugh, but with him in your mouth, the sensation of your muffled sound replaces his ruined moan with another. “Fuck, fuck— honey, I- god, I need you.”

His words bring you back to his shaft, one hand toying with his balls, while another reaches around to squeeze his ass, all while you take him into your mouth fully. “H- ohmyfuckinggod,” Steve’s face contorts into an expression at the crossroads of being pained and absolutely blissed out.

While you bob up and down on his cock, making him rasp out an airy cry when he hits the back of your throat, your hand on his backside inches towards his taut, sensitive hole.

He shivers, overstimulated by all three of your actions, “H- hey, angel, you… fuck… y’don’t gotta do th—” His words die on his lips, replaced by a throaty groan as your finger gently circles the tight ring; you moan around him, and he’s a goner, spilling into your throat without much warning.

You were going to leave him with a ruined orgasm, but another idea pops into your head.

“Fuck, fuck m’so sorry,” He’s babbling apologies as his hands fly to your head, holding you down onto his cock, still using your mouth as a personal cum dump. His chest heaves as his high winds down, hands letting up on your head, too.

Back on your feet, you kiss him roughly, but as he allows you in, you’re swapping spit with cum; surprised, he whines into your mouth as he pulls you against him, kissing back with a desperate, pathetic fervor. His fingers dig into your hips, tongue gliding along yours while he tastes himself. As you break the kiss, you murmur against his lips, glistening with the lewd slick, “Swallow.”

With a wicked smile, you step back and watch as he follows your command, adam’s apple bobbing before his mouth falls open with heavy pants.

You stretch up to kiss his cheek, whispering, “Good boy,” before turning on heel, leaving the room quiet, and a breathless Steve who feels filthy.

···························

The next day, you’re up early to catch up on some priorities, including some chores. You’ve got your headphones on while vacuuming, bopping around and (poorly) singing along to I Wanna Dance With Somebody while sweeping the hallway. Both the music and high pitched, droning suction of the vacuum block out any sound, especially Steve sneaking up behind you.

In one swift motion, he pulls your shorts down and pushes into you immediately. The surprise stretch makes you cry out in a little bit of agony, and a whole lotta’ bliss. You’ve got one hand on the nearest wall, while the other keeps you balanced on the vacuum handle as he lifts your leg to go deeper.

Steve rips your headphones off, “Are you always this fucking wet?”

You can’t answer, not with words, not when every and any thought has been fucked out of your head already. All you can do is whimper as your eyes roll back further with each rough slam into you.

The harder he thrusts, the closer you move to the wall, until you’re completely shoved against it. One hand wraps around your hip, the other tangles into your hair to pull you out and bend you over even more. All that holds you up is the wall against your chest, shoulders, and head, along with his grip, departing from their original spots to tug your arms behind your back and restrain them.

“Stevie…”

“This what y’wanted? With your gross, little fantasy?”

You shake your head— not the easiest when you’re shoved against the wall— pouting, and Steve immediately slows down, almost completely. “What’s wrong?”

“More,” is all you can rasp out.

“More… what?” Ever so slowly, he begins to move again. It’s still not enough.

“H- harder,” You murmur, and Steve mockingly hums in understanding, shoving himself to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you.

“Was that it?” He’s asking but he knows the answer.

“Faster,” Your needy little whine is just what he wanted to hear.

His pace picks up, unforgiving while railing into you, “That’s my girl.”

It doesn’t take much longer for Steve to climax, leaving you dripping, without release as he pulls out, satisfied. He swipes two fingers between your folds before they slip inside you, pushing his cum back into your entrance, laughing cruelly at the way you clench around him and groan tiredly.

Steve pulls his fingers out and brings them to your face, tapping your lips with the sticky, pearly slick covered fingers. “Open.” You obey, and gag as he shoves his fingers back farther. They slip back out, and he squeezes your face, mocking you from the night before, “Good girl.”

As he retreats to his room, you’re left alone, still an aroused mess, barely holding yourself up against the wall while trying to catch your breath.

···························

In the last few weeks, you’ve grown more comfortable with less clothing around Steve at home. He’s not complaining, especially later that night, when Steve watches you pass his room with the infamous vibrator in hand. Your outfit of a comfy bralette and shorts earns a double take from him.

“Hey, where ya’ goin’ with that?” He smirks at the bothered look on your face, probably still wound up from being used like a toy earlier, abandoned without your own climax.

“Shut up, Steve.” You grumble, but still stop in his doorway, flicking the switch on the wand on and off. Nothing happens, and you pout. “I think it died.”

“So… put new batteries in?”

“No, it’s like, dead dead. This was the third round of new batteries I put in, and still, nothin’.” You sigh with a shrug, “Eh, good riddance, I guess.”

You’re about to leave when Steve murmurs, “Not like you need it now.” Your face heats up and something pulls in your lower stomach.

“I mean… I do.” You walk away, and Steve follows you out the door.

“Huh? Why? You’ve got me.” It’s supposed to be a teasing joke, but it comes out more sincere than Steve intended.

“I- I’m not gonna just expect you to be in the mood whenever I am and need to… y’know.” Flipping the garbage can lid open, you drop the defunct sex toy into the trash. “Thanks for the memories, you stupid, janky wand.”

Steve snickers, “Yeah, the best memory being the day you needed my help.”

Ignoring him, you grab a glass from one of the cabinets, heading to the sink, but he leans against the edge to block you from the faucet.

Steve smirks; this could be fun. “And no, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

“See, that’s why I like my vibrator. It can’t sass back like a certain someone.”

“There’s many ways to shut a certain someone up.” You shove Steve aside and he scoffs. “Alright, well, next time you need to get off, don’t come crying to me.”

When he leaves, he ends up in the living room, turning the TV on before flopping onto the couch.

You frown and crinkle your brows as you shut the faucet off, muttering in a mocking tone, “Don’t come crying to me. Blah blah blah.”

“Heard that,” Steve flips you off, and from where you’re standing in the kitchen all you see is his arm shooting up above the couch, making you giggle.

“Wasn’t trying to hide it.” You shuffle over to the couch, about to sit on the opposite end of Steve, but he lets his arms fall open lazily, looking at you expectedly. “What?”

“C’mere,” He whines, forcing a pout.

You narrow your gaze, setting your glass on the table. “My vibrator wasn’t this needy, either.”

Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand as he pulls you back down near him. You yelp, landing next to him, fidgeting a bit to get comfortable. “Yeah, well, your vibrator wasn’t this hot, so is it really that much of a loss?” His arm hangs over your hip, while the other reaches for your back; he traces mindless patterns along your exposed skin, prickling as you shiver.

With your back to the TV, its glow slips over you and onto Steve, illuminating his features as the two of you grow into a comfortable silence, as your hands lazily wander his body. It’s only sweet, gentle caresses from the both of you, something you wish you could get used to. Something, a small, mundane detail you wish the two of you had in a relationship.

Except, there is no relationship, and you have to remind yourself often you can’t become more attached and attracted to Steve than you already are.

You’re just friends.

“This is… kinda nice,” He murmurs as you duck your head under his chin, cuddling closer.

Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

“Y’know, if you ever just wanted to, like, hang out like this… I’m cool with it if you are.”

“‘Hang out’, I didn’t know cuddling had a new name,” He softly teases, embracing your frame. “Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask you something, you got a minute?”

“No, Harrington, I’m actually late for a meeting at…” You turn over to read the wall clock, glancing back at Steve, “… 8:36 p.m. We can reschedule for tomorrow though!”

“You’re the worst.”

“But I’m the best at being the worst, right?”

He doesn’t answer, just gives a drawn out, exasperated sigh before letting his head fall forward, onto your shoulders while he sneakily pushes his pants down. Just enough to free himself. He rests there for a few moments before he pulls the fabric of your shorts aside, teasing the head of his cock at your entrance. You whimper and push back against him right as he guides himself into you. The stretch, as always, renders you silent as you adjust to his size.

“Is this what I have to do when you won’t shut up?” His arm winds around your neck, bringing your back flush against his chest; he’s not choking you, but when his arm flexes around your throat, your walls constrict around him. “Yeah, thought so.”

You wait, but no movement comes. No rocking his hips into you, no slow, teasing thrusts; Steve just lays behind you, buried deep in you, enjoying the way you squirm.

“I wanted to get you off to make up for earlier, y’know, just trying to be a good friend,” The last two words came out with an edge. “Trying to reward you for being such a good little fuck toy,” His arm tightens a bit, adding the tiniest bit of pressure; you throb around him, shuddering. “But now, I think you can just keep me warm instead.”

“Steve, please… I- I‘ll be good, I’ll be so good,” You babble, desperate for some kind of movement, some kind of friction, anything. He tightens his hold on you a little more, laughing breathily into your ear as you try moving. You gasp, “Touch me, p- please?”

“I’m already touching you.”

“That’s not what I mean!” You’ve got a short fuse when he riles you up just to drag out the teasing.

Just like the first time, neither of you know when to quit.

“Okay, so what do you mean?”

Whether it’s from the teasing now, or being used earlier. Maybe it’s both, mixed with the feelings you have for Steve that are getting too overwhelming. Whatever the case, you get pissed off enough to touch yourself instead.

“I didn’t say— ”

“I don’t fucking care what you didn’t say, if you’re not gonna do it, I will.”

Sometimes the tension makes you mean, and it’s something Steve likes, but refuses to admit, with his words, at least.

His throbbing cock inside of you, on the other hand, has no problem telling the truth.

“Well, fine, guess you don’t need me then,” Steve’s arm loosens from your neck as he begins to slip out, but with all of your strength, you reach back to hold him in place. It’s an awkward position, sure to make your arm sore tomorrow. You open yourself up a little more, throwing a leg back over his.

“You’ve been teasing me non-fucking-stop, asshole. Least you can do is stay while I get off.” Your fingers try finding a satisfying pattern to tease your clit with, but you’ve been so spoiled with your stupid toys, and Steve, it doesn’t feel the same. Doesn’t feel as good.

You can feel the smirk Steve makes as he leans against your shoulder, looking over to watch your hand and fingers struggle to keep you blissed out.

“Aw, honey, is it too hard for you?” He kisses the back of your shoulder, then slowly makes his way with more up your neck. Your breath shudders as you clench around Steve, just from his words alone. “Doesn’t feel as good as that toy, huh?”

You can feel hot tears begin to surface; you’re angry that you can’t make yourself feel good, angry that he’s taunting you after trying to take over and show him you didn’t need him.

But you do need Steve, and that’s been fucking with you so much since the first time the two of you kissed. That alone had you soaked, but right now, your own fucking hand isn’t cutting it, and you’re angry at how embarrassing this is.

Sure doesn’t stop Steve from humiliating you, though. “Doesn’t feel as good as my hands, hm?”

You bite your lip, holding back groans of frustration, but Steve can feel how tense you are.

“Must not feel the same as my tongue. Not even close,” he murmurs into your ear, kissing the skin behind it, then back down to your jaw. “No way those fingers can ever feel like my cock.” He nips at your jawline, “I bet you can’t get rid of that ache between your legs, not without my help. You need me, don’t you?”

Steve slides his hands onto your chest, tugging the bralette down before roughly, yet slowly, grabbing you. He pinches your nipples, enjoying the view of you arching into his touch, whimpering as your hand slows down on yourself, defeated.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what, Steve?” You spit through gritted teeth. He grabs your face to bring your attention to him. Something flashes across his eyes at the sight of you near tears, not lust, not desire, but you can’t figure out exactly what it is.

“That you need me.” You tighten around him, already giving your answer. He smirks, but again, something’s hidden behind that dominant exterior, past the pleasure over humiliating you.

What the fuck is he hiding?

“I d- don’t,” You lie, but your wobbling pout gives you away immediately.

“Angel, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I can help you.”

You’ve abandoned touching yourself completely, exhausted and embarrassed. Holding one another’s gaze, there’s a softness in Steve’s eyes that makes you finally break. “I- I need you, Steve. Please?”

One hand still teases your nipple while the other slides down, down, down, reaching your waistband before he pulls out completely, causing you to whine in protest.

“Hang on, angel,” He pulls your shorts off completely, leaving you bare before gently sliding back into you, groaning, “Wanted t’really feel you.”

Sex with Steve has usually been rough, or fast, or both. It’s usually needy with desperation to get off. Sometimes there’s a fantasy one or both of you want to fulfill.

This… this is different. Just like the look Steve held, you can’t figure out what is different, but it’s not bad.

In fact, you might like this the most.

“You want me to move?” Steve asks, and it’s not cocky. It’s not the demeanor he was teasing you with before.

“I don’t— do whatever, just need you to touch me,” Your whining is pathetic, but at least he finally reaches down to where you need him. His fingers slide between your folds, groaning when he meets the slick of your arousal. He’s slow, not painfully slow, rather careful as he thrusts into you. It’s soft, and you can feel every inch of him, really feel him.

“This okay?” His breathy question is just above your ear while he kisses along the shell of it.

“So, so okay.” This position might be your favorite, with the way he’s so deep in you, forcing your eyes to roll back into your head as he fills you completely. You lean back into him, and he takes one look at you before leaning in to kiss you, like he knew what you were silently asking for.

It’s soft, languid, the kind of kisses that make you squirm with a certain need, one he’s fulfilling right now.

Pulling back, his lips barely touch yours when he teases, “You’re s- so tight… y’really like it soft, huh?”

You only answer with a nod and a whimper, leaning in to kiss him again, but he moves back with a smirk. It’s not taunting, for once. He’s just really enjoying how turned on you are right now. How much he’s turning you on.

“I like it w- when we— god, fuck— when it’s…” You’re struggling to find the right words, fucked out already. Steve still watches you, listening intently as he can feel your walls pulse around him “… Intense, but this is s- so— oh!”

It’d almost be embarrassing how fast he can push you over the edge, but it feels far too good to care. You shake against him, tensing up as your head lolls back against his chest, jaw dropped in a silent moan. Then, it finally slips out, and it’s loud.

“Good girl,” Steve murmurs, kissing your temple. “Doing so— fuck— s- so good for me.”

Before you can even rest, he convinces you to let him keep going, give you more pleasure, murmuring how you’re ‘his girl’, how you can take one more, just ‘one more’.

By the third round, Steve’s question is long forgotten by both of you.

···························

“Why am I taking the backroads again?”

“It’s a… nicer ride. Just trust me.”

Steve drove along the lonely, winding road. The sunset began to blanket the sky in hues of oranges, purples, and pinks.

“Okay, but… you know it’s a longer drive this way, right?”

You’re leaning over the seat to unzip his pants, and Steve freezes, but not before hitting the gas by accident. He only speeds up a little before catching himself. “Are you trying to kill us?!”

“I only touched your pants. Are you really that sensitive?”

“I- I just didn’t expect it— I’m driving and trying to be safe.”

“Yeah, and I bet you look both ways before making a turn, too.”

“I do!”

You pull his cock out, half hard already, and waste no time leaning down to lick up the precum already beginning to seep out.

“H- hey!”

You pull off. “What? Don’t want this? I can stop.”

“This- it’s just— unsafe.”

“Is that your only complaint?”

“Well… yeah, I gu— shit- ” Steve tries suppressing a moan as you take him in completely without hesitation, and the sound that leaves him just sounds strangled and pained. He white knuckles the steering wheel while your eyes water, gagging around him.

Not a soul to be found on the roads, and Steve’s still nervous he’ll hit something. Or someone. But you’re humming around him, and making these sweet, little gagging noises, he has to remove a hand from the wheel to pull you off of him.

With his strong hand, he yanks you back, still focusing on driving. “I thought you’d like this,” You pout, backing off as you settle back in your seat. “I’m sorry.”

“I do, but I- I think I like it a little too much. As much as I want you to finish, I need to make sure we get to Robin’s... Um, alive.”

“Okay, well… What are y’gonna do about that,” You point to his crotch, cock still hanging out of his pants, flushed red with need with precum still pearling at the tip.

Steve sighs, exhaling roughly through his nose, thinking for a moment as he drives on. He mutters a quick ‘fuck it’ before grabbing you by the hair to pull you back onto him. He doesn’t miss the mischievous smirk that flashes on your face before he shoves your mouth onto his cock.

“You— mnfph— that’s it, just— oh, g- god— relax, angel, relax that p- pretty throat f’me,” His cock twitches against your tongue, making you moan. “Wish I could fuck your face right now.”

Popping your mouth off of Steve, he catches a quick glance of your lips covered in your spit and some of his own mess, “Fuck…” You wrap your hand around his length, stroking him slowly.

“Kinda wish we did this on the highway instead,” You murmur as your lips attach to his neck, sucking the sensitive skin softly. Steve’s eyes almost flutter shut, but he forces himself to grip the wheel and keep his eyes on the road. “It’d be kinda hot, huh? Trying to do this without gettin’ caught.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Soooooo… If I keep going, can you finish before we get there?”

Steve’s answer comes in the form of his hand on your head, twisting his fingers into your hair before shoving you back down on his cock.

···························

It’s under an hour since you and Steve got to Robin and Vickie’s new place, where she said it’d just be a small, casual housewarming party, and two things have you incredibly bothered right now:

This party is anything but small— you didn’t think Robin even cared about this many people to invite them over.

Steve’s kissing someone else right now.

While wandering around to find Steve and ask if you could leave early, you stumbled upon Steve playing goddamn tongue hockey with someone else.

If it happened when you and Steve were just friends, you’d be happy for him, genuinely. Hell, even if the two of you were FWBs and you had no feelings for him, you’d be thrilled he felt comfortable enough to kiss someone tonight that wasn’t a cis woman.

Shit, you’d even be a solid wing-woman and cheer him on for any action. Yet your feelings for him just turned it all into envy. Nothing but envy coursing through your veins. You had no right to say anything in the first place, because it’s not like the two of you were actually together.

It still didn’t settle your jealousy, or the overthinking triggered by the mixed signals he’s given over the last few weeks. The audacity, too, for Steve to pull this only hours after you fucked… just one hour after you gave him road head—

Yeah, you had to leave, ASAP.

“Hey, where ya’ goin’?!” Robin slurred after you, too drunk to get up and check if you were okay.

So you just call over your shoulder, “This was fun, but I gotta go home!” And you knew damn well you weren’t fooling anyone with the way your voice wavered; you hoped everyone was too drunk or distracted.

The front door creaked open as you hurried down the porch steps, relieved to breathe some fresh air, at the very least. The soft song of the crickets in the woods kept you company.

Your arms are crossed over your chest, shielding yourself from the breezy spring air. You wish you didn’t leave your jacket in Steve’s car, but this was better than having to see him kiss someone else.

Until a familiar BMW pulls up alongside you on the empty street.

Harder to shake than a cold.

Rolling the window down, Steve calls out, “Angel, why are you trying to walk home?”

“Don’t you have a throat to shove your tongue down, or something?”

Steve taps the breaks as he mutters, “Fuck.”

“Surprised y’all didn’t do that, either.” You continue on, and he continues following you in the car.

“Please, just let me drive you back? Don’t have to talk to me or anything.”

“No thanks, I can get home on my own just fine.”

Steve hits the breaks, sighing as he throws the car in park. He steps out of the car, leaning on the roof. “Yeah? What direction is home?” You spin around, walking backwards as you throw your arms out, exasperated.

“Fuck you, Steve.”

He bites his tongue, resisting the urge to say some stupid shit like “Already did”; riling you up wasn’t the answer right now. You angrily point in the direction you’ve been walking, continuing on with all the confidence in your body.

“Try again.” His remark makes you whip around, flipping him off, before marching on in the wrong direction again.

Okay, he deserved that, at the very least.

Steve jogs to catch up to you, though it’s not like you made it very far, stumbling over your own feet. You’re about to lose your balance when Steve makes it to you, just in time, catching you mid-fall.

“Alright, c’mon,” He groans as he attempts to get you stable on both feet, before slinging your arm around his shoulders, and yours around his waist. He guides you back to the car, not giving into your little grumbles and protests as he helps you into the passenger seat.

An agonizing silence settles between the two of you on the ride home, and you’re not sure if you can break the silence without crying. So you don’t. Steve has no problem speaking up first anyway, otherwise, the silence will just send his anxiety skyrocketing.

“I’m sorry,” He sounds sincere, as always. He tears his eyes from the road for a moment to glance at you, only feeling worse when he can really see how hurt you are. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it was like… that. With us, I mean. And I’m sorry.”

“S’fine,” Your voice wavers with weakness, “I know what this was. I- I knew what we were getting into. If anyone should apologize, it’s me, ‘cause I had no right getting jealous.”

Steve forgets his response immediately, pausing a moment to take your words in.

“You were jealous?” He almost sounds pleased to hear you admit this.

Oh, god fucking dam—

“….. No?”

“You literally just said you got jealous.”

“I- I don’t— shut up. You misheard me.”

“Oh, I did?” Steve Harrington can be such a smug and snarky motherfucker sometimes. “What’d you say then? Just wanna make sure I hear you correctly this time, honey.”

You fire back, “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Should I just call you a brat instead?”

“You know what, Steve?” You glance over and he’s still smirking like an asshole. “Don’t talk to me for the rest of the ride. Or the rest of the night.”

His face falls. “Why not?”

You don’t answer, just cross your arms and tilt your view to the window, watching the world pass by.

“Are you really gonna shut me out? Over this?”

Again, you hold back any responses. Let him dig his own grave at this point.

“You’re the one who kept saying we’re just friends.” As he reminds you, his fingers are clutching the wheel tightly, eyes glued to the road. “You’re the one—“

“No, Steve. You are the one who said from the start friends can fuck around. You said ‘what are friends for?’ after you went down on me.”

So much for your petty silence.

“You continued it! You said ‘this is what good friends do for each other’, and that fuckin’ around is just helping each other out. How was I supposed to know you wanted more?”

Steve had a point. You tried lying to yourself that you ended up sending the wrong signals his way.

“I— Look, I’m sorry I kissed someone else. And this doesn’t excuse hurting you, but did you ever think maybe I was doing my best not to fall for you?” As he pulls up to the apartments, he sinks into his seat, sighing. “I should’ve been honest from the start, or maybe should’ve ran out for batteries instead of fucking around with you and both of our feelings to begin with. I’m sorry.”

You’re exhausted and intoxicated, out of energy to continue this. Unable to look at Steve, you mutter, “Can we just… talk about this tomorrow?” There’s no chance for him to answer, because you’re already out of the car and making your way through the lobby and to the stairs.

···························

Steve took his time returning to the apartment, wanting to give you space, but also in case he got upset enough to cry, too.

He was so, so fucked, and now… he fucked everything up. Sure, you didn’t make it crystal clear how you felt about Steve when you could’ve so much earlier. But it’s not like he did any better.

When he enters the shared space, everything’s dark, and quiet. He figures you went to sleep, since your bedroom’s door is closed. To his shock, though, he finds you asleep in his bed.

Maybe you mistook his bed for yours while being drunk and tired. Steve’s unsure if he should sleep on the couch, to give you more space. But maybe you fell asleep here purposefully. Or maybe you waited here for him and eventually passed out, too tired and upset to keep yourself awake.

You’re half covered by the blankets, wearing only your panties and his shirt again, the one you’ve practically stolen at this point. Steve notices your scrunchie still on your wrist, the subtle symbol you’d give if you were in the mood for free use play. He also notices the way your skin is prickling up; you’re definitely cold, but you’re too drunk to wake up and do something about it.

Steve reaches down and slips the scrunchie over your wrist, setting it on the nightstand, then pulls the covers over you. Immediately, you curl into the blankets, making the softest hum of contentment, falling deeper into sleep.

Or so he thought.

As he changes and strips just to his boxers, Steve hesitates, questioning again if he should sleep here, or the couch. Consumed by trying to make the best choice, mainly for you, your hand reaches out and grabs his leg weakly.

“Stay?”

Your eyes are red, both from exhaustion and crying. Steve feels awful.

He also can’t pass up an opportunity to tease you lovingly. “Honey, I appreciate the invite, but this is my room.” Your hand lifts to flip him off. “Yeah, there she is.” He huffs a quick laugh out, before double checking, “Are you sure you want me to stay? I- I can give you space if you need.”

“I need you, not space.” You roll to the other side of the bed, throwing the covers back. “Please?”

Steve felt his heart ache; this wouldn’t make the dreaded conversation any easier by morning, but he didn’t want to say no, because in some backwards way, the two of you need one another right now.

He crawls in next to you, pulling the covers back up over both of you. He holds himself back from reaching out for you, an action that’s become second nature over the last few weeks.

Instead, he asks, “Can I hold you?” Steve hates the way his voice cracks with longing, giving away how awful he felt. For himself. For you. For the both of you. It wasn’t supposed to end up in this strange suspension between lust and love. It should’ve stayed a one time thing, if at all.

Only silence comes from your side of the bed as you’re already falling back asleep. Steve turns over and hopes sleep can come that quick for him, too.

····································

When morning arrives, you wake up peacefully, naturally, and with a major headache.

“Fucking christ.”

You roll over, realizing the other side of Steve’s bed is empty.

Wait. Why am I here?

You didn’t forget last night, but you can’t come up with a good reason as to why you decided to fall asleep in Steve’s bed instead of your own. Not a justifiable reason in sight after the car ride home.

Blinking a few times as you adjust to the bright light, something on the nightstand catches your eye.

It’s a note, with a water bottle and your cute little pipe with a packed bowl. A smile joins your features as you read the note.

hey, angel. figured you might need these for the rough hangover.

if you still wanna talk when I get home, we can. if not, we can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us. either way, you better stay hydrated today. or else. not sure what the ‘or else’ is yet, but I mean it. drink your damn water.

— steve ♡

While the note, the tiny heart near his name, and kindness behind it made your smile grow, your heart aches at one line.

We can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us.

It’s sincere and considerate, like Steve is, other than last night, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know you fell for him during all of this, so could you even count that against him?

Steve’s more worried about your comfort in all of this than his own; he always does this, he always puts everyone’s needs and feelings first.

Before you can even fully wake up, you’re reaching for the phone on the table, dialing without much thought. It rings twice before a familiar voice answers.

“Family Vi— ”

“Robin! Is Steve there? Can I talk to him?”

“Yeah, hi to you too,” She deadpans.

“Sorry. Hi. Hi Robin. Hello. Please give Steve the phone, pleaaaaaasssseeeeeee— ”

She scoffs, and you can hear the eye roll she makes, “Oh my god, shut up, shut up. I’ll get him.”

“Thank you!” You’re a little too enthusiastic in your reply. It’s quiet for a minute until you hear someone pick up the other end’s receiver.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve’s immediately jumping into worry mode.

“Nothing’s wrong, why would something be wrong?”

“You never call here. Just… surprised me, is all.”

“Oh… well, look, I- I just wanted to say, about the note—” ”

“Was it too much? I’m sorry if I— ”

“Steve, shut up for a minute. Please.” He pushes a soft, quiet laugh through the phone. You can picture him with his arms crossed, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, leaning against the counter. Robin’s probably rolling her eyes. “We can… we can talk tonight. I didn’t want you to go the whole day worried about it.”

It’s silent on his end, other than distant, soft breaths. “You didn’t have to call. N- not that I don’t appreciate it! Just… y’know. I kinda have an idea of what’s coming. And it’s okay. I just want you to be—”

“Steve, I’m grateful you’re always looking out for me and my feelings, but that’s why I called. I want you to feel comfortable too, okay? Whatever works for you, works for me.”

“I— ”

“Steve, get off the phone! You can talk to your girlfriend later!”

Steve lazily covers the mic, but you can still hear him quip back, “She’s not my— whatever. Give me a minute.”

“Thirty seconds!”

“Jesus, what bug crawled up Keith’s ass?” You joke, earning a sigh from Steve.

“Definitely something annoying, like a mosquito.” He snickers back into the phone before clearing his throat. “Um… can we talk in… two hours? I can come back on my bre— ”

You cut him off anxiously. “Yes. Please. Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay, two hours. Yeah. Okay. See ya’ then.” Steve sounds nervous, rushing off the phone before hanging up first.

Two hours. Not that long. You should be fine.

Totally fine.

········································································

It’s been an hour, and you’re ready to move on from chewing your nails nervously, to gnawing your entire arm off.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit much. You’re still nervous as fuck, though. How can you last another hour like this?

You passed up the weed, wanting to be as sober as possible for the conversation, but you hate taking painkillers, so you keep the lights off and throw a pair of sunglasses on; the light is the worst for you with hangovers, but this barely helps.

Even worse, your head’s spinning and the constant stream of thoughts revolving around you and Steve make you dizzy. You stay in his bed, covers pulled up and blinds drawn to keep out the light, with your headphones on to block out any noise outside the apartment. They’re not even plugged into your Walkman, you’re just hoping the barrier of silence helps.

It doesn’t. You hear no sound, but your head is still pounding. Maybe you should’ve smoked after all.

The blankets are yanked back, startling you into a scream. It stops as soon as it starts when you see Steve. He’s chuckling at your reaction, and though you’re relieved to see it’s him and not some monster or masked intruder, your heart’s about to jump out of your chest.

Gently, he pulls the headphones off of you. “Sorry, honey. Uh… why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”

Every time he calls you that, or angel, you feel yourself melt. The hold this man has on you is insane.

“Hangover, lights suck, all that stuff.” You grumble, falling back onto the bed. Steve sits next to you. “I- I thought you said two hours?”

“Yeah… waiting was driving me nuts. So, I, uh, I left for the day.” He rubs the back of his neck, gaze shying away, but not before he notices you’re still wearing his shirt, and not wearing pants.

You’re shocked he pulled that off. “What’d you tell Keith to leave early?!”

“My great aunt’s in the hospital.”

You stifle a laugh, “Steve, didn’t you use that excuse a few months ago?”

His eyes grow wide. “Shit, did I?”

“Oh my god, yeah! You had me call to pretend— whatever,” You crack up, head falling back with a loud laugh. “You gotta keep track of these excuses!” You cradle your own head, wincing from the pain your own loudness brings.

“Hey, you didn’t— ” Steve’s eyes darted to the nightstand, about to tease you for not smoking yet, but you haven't touched the bottle of water either. “Jesus, no wonder your head hurts.”

“I didn’t wanna be high when we talked,” You grumble, about to lay back down, but Steve holds you upward, handing you the water. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You take a sip. “Happy?”

Steve lets you go, running a hand down his face with a sigh. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You’re mid-sip before choking on water, struggling through a cough to ask, “I- I- did you— what did you just say?”

“Uh… good question. You heard that? I said that? Out loud?” Steve rambles a lot, but he’s great at it when nervous. “I think you’re imagining things.”

“Would’ve worked if I was high, but nice try.”

He groans with an eye roll, flopping onto the bed, landing on his back. His hands come up to cover his face, but you pull them back.

“I didn’t want to say it like that.” His admission comes without eye contact as his face burns red. “I wasn’t gonna say it at all, honestly. I kinda figured out this is the end of things anyway.”

“Wait, what? Steve—”

“N- not that it’s a bad thing!” You haven’t let go of his hand, and he’s either completely oblivious or doesn’t want to let go. “I’m— whatever you decide, I’ll respect. We can go back to being friends, or even just… boring roommates, if you want.”

“Okay, but— ”

“And since it’s all out there— not saying this to make you feel guilty, or bad, or anything, but I- I thought these feelings were new, and it turns out I’ve felt this way about you since… probably the first week we lived here.”

Your heart aches, but in the best ways; you need to tell Steve you feel the same.

“Stevie, listen—”

“But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can move out, if that’s easier.”

If only he’d shut the fuck up.

He’s getting himself worked up, and you wish he’d just take a minute to breathe. “Not, like, forcing that either, because if you just wanna be friends still, I- I’d be more than happy… and lucky to have you in my life still. But that’s- it’s— I’m not trying to—”

You’re growing agitated, wishing he’d give himself some grace. “Steve, take a second to— ”

“And I mean what I said last night, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I thought maybe it’d help distract me, but it just hurt you instead… I just fucked everything up—”

“Oh, for the love of— ” You swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, throwing your sunglasses off in the process. Leaning down, tone dripping with adoration, you murmur, “Steve, shut up.”

You kiss him, hoping this pauses the overthinking. He’s stunned, expecting anything but this. The two of you have kissed plenty of times by now, but this one is everything to him.

Finally, Steve kisses back, earning a smile from you against his lips. You cradle his face in your hands as you feel his run along your back, holding you against him as any uncertainty floats away. Breaking the kiss, you don’t pull away, just admit softly against his lips, “I love you, too.”

He sits up, leaning back on his arms with eyes wide in disbelief, “You- are you- you mean it?”

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t suffer through a hangover for just anyone, you know. I wish it didn’t take the whole battery incident— ”

“You mean vibrator incident—”

“Oh, will you shut— it’s all the same! Anyway,” You giggle, a sound Steve adores, one that pulls a smile across his face every time he hears you. “That’s when I realized I had feelings for you. A- and you coming out just to make me feel better about coming out, that really woke me up… and, uh, do not let this get to your big head—”

“My head is not big!”

You narrow your stare, shutting him up. “… When I saw you with someone else, and it made me so jealous, I’ve never felt that with anyone before. I didn’t think it was love until you came looking for my dumb, drunk ass on the street.”

“Someone had to, you were on your way to fucking Canada if you kept walking in that direction.” Steve snickers, but kisses your cheek, softening the blow. You can’t help huffing out a laugh with him; honestly, he had every right to poke fun at your little stunt.

Your voice falls quiet, turns small, “I’m sorry I never said anything earlier, and that I kept pushing that ‘just friends’ bullshit.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better,” Steve tries steering you away from taking the blame, “You’re a way better kisser than they were.”

You snort, “You’re just saying that.” It doesn’t stop your skin from prickling up, or the heat that blooms across your face.

“I’m not, I promise. You weren’t kidding, they literally shoved their tongue down my throat. You running off gave me an excuse to leave, so… thanks.”

You can’t help teasing him, “What are friends for?”

Steve rolls his eyes for the millionth time before sitting up to push you back onto the bed. He climbs on top, and you tug at the ugly Family Video vest he still has on.

“Babe, get this stupid thing off,” You giggle, tugging it down his arms. He pouts.

“What? You’re not into it? I thought it was kinda sexy,” His brows wiggle with his joke, and you throw it onto the floor, glaring at him. “What if I wore that, and nothing else? Just the vest.”

You’re pulling his shirt off, throwing that to the floor, too. “Then I’d definitely kick you out.”

Steve leans down to you, murmuring, “You’d never.” His lips brush against your jaw, kissing along your face to reach your neck.

“You’re right, but— ” Your breath hitches, holding your words back as he continues to kiss down your neck. “—w-we definitely wouldn’t fuck for a long time.”

“Now that’s a threat I take seriously,” His words against your skin vibrate and tickle, sending shivers up your spine. Then, he stops, and sits back up.

“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” You instantly cringe at how pathetic you sound, but Steve doesn’t tease you for it, just kisses your forehead quickly before leaning over you.

“Sit up,” Confused, you listen as he takes all the pillows around you, cushioning and covering the headboard. As he comes back to you, he pushes you back softly. “Okay— ”

Now it clicks. “Oh my god, I’m not gonna hit my head this time, I swear!”

He smirks, “Better safe than sorry.” Stealing your chance to quip back, his lips are back on yours, and it’s the kind of tender kiss where he likes to draw it out, take his time. The kind that only makes you squirm from the start.

“Hey, what’s got you so worked up?” Steve pulls back, resting his hand on your face; he can feel the goosebumps on your face prickle up against his palm. His touch is warm, soothing, and easy to gravitate to; you’re certainly not immune to leaning into his hand whenever he does this.

“Need you, Steve,” You breathe, legs closing underneath him to try and subside the ache between your legs.

“I wish I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that,” He teases, pushing your legs apart, fixated on the damp patch on the fabric between your legs. You whine, rolling your hips against nothing, only showing how needy you are. “‘Cause if I did, I’d have enough to get you a new vibrator.”

You feign offense with a loud gasp, “I thought you said I wouldn’t need it anymore, ‘cause I have you instead.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your panties down. His hands run up your legs, pinning you to the bed as he reaches your hips. It’s not like you were going anywhere to begin with, but the pressure and possessiveness feels… nice.

“You do have me,” The meaning behind his affirmation spreads far beyond sex. “Always.”

You reach for his pants as he leans over you again, “Don’t have you in me yet, though,” You grumble, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. Steve stifles a laugh while you struggle. “Who designed this fuckin’ thing anyway?”

“I thought we were having a sweet moment, but your sailor mouth’s ruining it,” His joke doesn’t make you laugh like he hoped. Instead, you just look frustrated, finally loosening his belt. “Whoa, hey— honey, look at me.”

A sharp exhale escapes your lips while you glance up at Steve, but only for a moment before staring off, “M’sorry.”

“We don’t have to do this, you know that, right?” A finger slips under your chin, gently tilting your face up towards his. Your eyes meet his again, and he gives you the same soft, caring look he gave you a few nights ago. “I’m perfectly content with just hanging out the rest of the day, doing whatever you want.”

“I want to, I really do, I just… ” You try forcing your voice to come out stronger, more certain, but it just cracks as you admit, “I think I’m scared it’ll end so fast.”

Steve thinks back to the first time the two of you kissed, the first time you were fully exposed to him, the first time he went down on you— the first time anyone went down on you, how disappointed you sounded when it was almost over. He remembers telling you it could happen again, that it didn’t have to be a one time thing.

He remembers the way you hit your head against the wall, again, the first time the two of you fucked, and how he told you next time it’d be in a bed, helping you laugh off the clumsiness. You sounded so surprised that you even talked about the possibility of a ‘next time’.

Almost every time after either of you initiated anything sexual, your reaction was always shock and surprise when Steve talked about fucking around again in the future. There were more times where you begged him to not let it end yet, but he thought it was just in the moment.

Steve didn’t realize you meant you didn’t want things between the two of you to end. It wasn’t ever really in the moment. It was a fear you’ve had since the first time he’s touched you, and it’s a fear of Steve’s, too.

“Angel, I’m not going anywhere,” You move up against the pillows as he speaks softly to you, shifting with you to keep you comfortable while staying close. “I can’t speak for you, but on my end, I don’t plan on ending this fast. Or ever… but that- that’s another conversation for another day, okay?”

You nod, slipping your hand into his, “Okay.”

“Point is, this isn’t a one time thing. You really do have me. And when I say always, I mean it.”

There’s no hesitation in your response, “You have me, too, Steve. Always.”

“Let me take care of you,” His hand is cupping your face again, thumb sweeping along your cheek softly. “Get those awful thoughts out of that pretty head of yours. How’s that sound?”

You nod against his palm, hands coming up to hold his forearm as he holds you. “Please, Stevie.” Your eyes fall to his belt before reaching for it. You pull it off, adding it to the pile of his clothes. “That thing is the worst.”

“Won’t wear that one around you anymore, promise,” Steve chuckles as the two of you strip each other from any remaining clothing.

His lips find their way back to your neck, picking up where he left off with the gentle kisses. Your hands wander his body, tracing along the dips and curves of his toned arms. It’s easy to lose yourself in the scattered freckles and moles all over, making up constellations, a galaxy of his own. What brings you back is the breathy moan made from his touch along your folds.

It’s one finger, then two, and you’re arching your back, pressing yourself against him, dizzy from shallow breaths as he finds your sweet spot. His long fingers have no problem reaching where you need him most, not struggling the way you do when you touch yourself.

Steve starts kissing down your body, but you grab him by the shoulders. “You okay?”

“Stay with me,” You gasp as he continues fucking you on his fingers. “I- I don’t— it feels good, but I wanna cum with you instead.”

A blush creeps along Steve’s face as a lazy smile curls up. He makes his way back to you, retracing his kisses with new ones, of course. When he rests his forehead against yours, his hand’s still between your legs.

“Still wanna make y’feel good first,” Steve’s thumb softly swipes over your clit while he continues working his fingers, curling them just right. “You can cum twice, you’ve done it before.”

Your fingers twist through his hair, bringing him towards you as you close the gap, trying to kiss him the way he was kissing you. Your hips roll onto his fingers, feeling your legs shake and your walls constrict around him.

Steve pulls back, admiring the way your face twists in an expression of beautiful agony, so, so close to the edge. He leans down to murmur into your ear, “That’s it, angel, let go for me”. Other praises follow, but you’re just at the point of no return, unable to hear him as you finally reach your high, a strangled moan slipping between your lips with ease.

Aftershocks roll through your body while you pant shallow breaths, vision a little fuzzy from your eyes squeezing shut, and Steve kissing your temple, then your cheek, with more gentle praises, ones you can faintly make out.

You’re barely settled, still in the comedown, but you’re pulling Steve closer, “Fuck, I love you.” He beams, knowing already he’ll never get tired of hearing that from you.

He spreads your legs, but stops to study your expression. Checking on you, he asks, “Are you sure you can handle one more?”

“Uh-huh,” You try to giggle, still breathless as you nod. “As long as it’s with you.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but you know him, he loves the corny little remarks you shoot back and forth. You know him. You know him so well by now, because he’s yours. And you’re his.

“Hey, angel?” He’s admiring your figure, still catching your breath, already blissed out with hooded eyes, and the sweetest smile he’s ever seen on your face. He lines up with your entrance, slowly pushing in while he leans back down to you with a lingering forehead kiss.

“Y- yeah?” You shudder out, adjusting to him all over again. His hand slips into yours, fingers lacing together before he gives a gentle squeeze.

“I love you, too.”

The first night you had together, when Steve offered to help, it wasn’t meant to just be a one and done kind of fling. Maybe it felt like it back then, and maybe even last night, while the two of you fought over your feelings, it felt like it should’ve been an arrangement that ended long ago. But now? Now, everything’s so sure. Everything’s so certain.

With Steve, everything’s crystal clear.

It only takes the first thrust for the two of you to meld together with ease. It’s almost effortless, the way you and Steve can flow into and with one another. You’ve never felt like this with anyone else, never felt so comfortable, so at home within someone’s embrace, never felt such safety to be yourself completely.

At the same time, both you and Steve give each other the same, cheesy line, “feels like you’re made for me.” While neither of your movements stop, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. Steve buries his head into your shoulder, while his shoulders shake along with the noise. Your arms wrap around him, laughing even harder when he realizes he can feel you laugh while deep in you.

“Hey- h- hey wait, waitwaitwait!” He can’t control his laughter, and neither can you. “Every time you do that it— fuck!” He’s trying his hardest to calm down, hoping you can, too. “You gotta stop doing that, I can- you- fuck, you’re so tight.”

You cover your face with your hands, trying to kill your giggles, and slowly it works, leading Steve to calm down, too. With a quick kiss to his chin as he lifts his head, you flip on top, riding him immediately.

Any laughter still at the back of Steve’s throat dies instantly as you grind down onto him. You finally find a steady, slow pace to roll your hips; there’s no rush, there’s no fear it’ll all disappear when the two of you finish. It’s just you and Steve, nothing else, no one else.

No distractions or kinks or secrets, just the two of you, together.

“Honey, m’not gonna last if you k- keep this up,” he breathes, strong hands on your hips, gently guiding you along.

“S’okay, I- I’m close,” You whimper, hand splayed against Steve’s chest. “A- and we can just— ” You sharply gasp, walls constricting around him. “we got all the time in the world, Stevie. You have me, always.” Your head tilts back as pleasure consumes you both, feeling him throb while your legs shake.

Before the two of you reach that sweet high together, you faintly hear Steve respond, “Y’have me, too, angel. Always.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #my fics #crystal clear #*slaps post* this baby can fit SOOOOOOO much angst in it

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 1 month

Text

Older (Dean Winchester)

Description: Y/N has a crush on Dean but they have a 20 year age gap. How does Dean react when she finally tells him?

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

Word Count: 1,743k

Y/N watched Dean as he washed Baby. His big muscular arms on display with the tight white shirt that had dirt on it. Baby was soapy and wet as Dean wiped her down. Y/N was trying not to drool as he went in circular motions cleaning the car. She was too into the scene in front of her; she didn’t notice Sam coming up to her side. “Stare any longer he might just notice your obvious crush on him.” He said to me, making her snap out of it. She turned towards him and rolled her eyes. He chuckled and handed her a beer. She took it from him and took a drink. “Ya think maybe he’s too old for you.” He said. Y/N pushed him and they both laughed. She sighed and looked at Dean again. He was pouring water on the soapy car. She sighed and got up from her spot and walked into the house. She needed a cold shower to erase the dirty thoughts from her mind.

It was days later that she’d be staring at the older man as he made breakfast. They had just come back from a hunt and Y/N was hungry so Dean offered to cook for her. Sam was getting some sleep but the other two were wide awake. “How do you like your eggs?” He asked her as he got them out of the fridge. “Over easy.” She said and he cracked the two eggs on the pan. She watched as he put the bread in the toaster. “You really didn’t have to make me anything.” She said as Dean put the eggs on the plate. “But I wanted to. You deserve it putting up with us.” She laughed as he set the eggs and toast in front of her. She thanked him. “Well I like putting up with you guys.” She said. He got his plate and sat across from her. “What, you got a crush on one of us?” He joked but she didn’t laugh. “Nah we’re probably too old for you anyway.” He said. She stared at him without saying anything. She shook her head and went back to eating her food. “Yeah totally.” She said.

She woke up 7 hours later in bed and yawned. She remembered the cringey things Dean asked her this morning and she sighed. She thought for a second when he asked her that she was caught. Luckily Dean was oblivious.She got out of bed and stretched. She walked out of her room and noticed Dean at the table on the computer. “Where’s Sam?” She asked. “Grocery Shopping.” He said and nodded and sat down across from him. He looked up from the computer at her. “So back to early convo you probably like Jack don’t you?” He asked. She looked at him confused. “No, not the antichrist.” She laughed. “Do you even like anybody?” He asked. “Dean, can we not talk about this?” She asked not wanting to expose herself. “Yeah sure.” He said and went back to research. The silence now,awkward and unwanted.

Why was Dean so curious about who she had feelings for or if she did? She honestly thought that Dean was too old for her but that’s how she liked it. They were eating dinner and she had a glass of wine. Dean sat across from her and Sam sat next to Dean. Jack and Cas sat next to her. Everyone was in a conversation except her. She never talked much while eating. She sometimes butted in with Jack and Cas but other than that kept quiet. Dean noticed her silence and wondered if it was about his question earlier. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. After dinner was over she helped him clean up.

She didn’t say anything to him so he figured he thought correct. “I’m sorry about the question earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He said. She looked at him. “You didn’t.” She said and poured herself some more wine. “If I did I would completely understand-” “Dean.” She interrupted him. He looked over at her and she was holding the wine and her upper body on the table a little. Her boobs are perfectly on display. “What are you-” She took a sip of wine and smirked. “I told myself I’d never fuck anyone old enough to be my dad.” She states. He stares at her in shock. She stood up and walked closer to him. “That was until I met you.” She said seductively. “Wait you like me?” He asked her confused but kinda turned on.

She nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And before you give me any of that age bullshit. I’m 22 i’m an adult.” He stared at her as her hands ran over his chest. “You have no idea what you do to me Dean.” She says and her hands lower themselves to the bottom of his shirt. She tugs on it and he looks down seeing what she was doing. “Y/N are you sure?” He asked her. She looked up at him with lustful eyes. “Are you sure Dean? Think you can handle me, old man?” He chuckled and picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.She laughed as he took her to his room. He threw her on the bed and smirked. “I’m 42 sweetheart not 72.” He said and took off his shirt revealing his amazing body. She was almost drooling at the sight. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down in a kiss. He moved his lips against hers as his hands traveled her body. He lifts her tank top up a bit and she pulls away from the kiss. She sits up and removes it showing her white bra. He looks down at her boobs and cups them. “Wow you’re so sexy.” He says and moves his hands to her back. He unclips the bra and she lets it fall freeing her boobs. He smirks at the sight and leans down to put one of her nipples in his mouth. She gasps his name and her hands go to his head as he licks and sucks. Her hands moved to his jeans and she cupped his growing erection. He moans against her nipple. “Dean take these off.” She breathes out. He pulls away from her nipple and gets up to remove his jeans. He pulls them down along with his boxers. She moves herself to the end of the bed and pulls him closer to her. “I didn’t know if I want you in my mouth or inside of me.” She says and he chuckles. Her eyes staring at his long hard cock. “Both would be ideal but right now I really need to be inside of you.” He tells her and pushes her back on the bed.

She smiles as he pulls down her panties. He gets back on her and kisses her again. She runs her hands up and down his muscular back. He pulls away and sighs into her mouth as he lines himself up with her entrance. He pushes in slowly and she gives a sharp gasp. “Are you okay?” He asked. She nods. He pushes in deeper and her noises fill his ear. She hadn’t had sex with many people and certainly not with a guy this big before. Once he was in her all the way he let her adjust to him. They stare at each other as she adjusts to him. He got lost in her eyes not believing that this was happening right now. She pulled him out of his thoughts when she thrusted up. She moaned as the pain was gone and she was full of pleasure. He started moving his hips and she let out little moans. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened. He didn’t let his eyes close as he watched her facial expressions. He groaned as her hips started matching his. She grabs his neck and moans his name. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He breathes out and she opens her eyes to look at him. “You feel so good inside of me.” She whimpers. He leans down and starts kissing her neck. She gasped and pulled him closer if that was possible. “Dean, go faster.” She begged and he moved as fast as he could.His hips pounding into her hard and fast making the bed screech. His lips left marks on her neck. Neither of them cared at the moment.

He pulled out of her some and angled his hips. He slammed back in her and hit her g spot making her scream. He covered her mouth with his hand. “Gotta remember sweetheart we aren’t the only ones here.” He groans in her ear. She tried to keep her sounds to a minimum but with him pounding at her g spot that didn’t work. “Dean, you feel too good.” She mumbles in his hand. He nods. “Fuck I know baby. You feel amazing.” He moans. She felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. He was twitching inside of her signaling that he was close too. “Baby I'm close.” She moaned and he groaned out a me too. She gasped out feeling him fill her up which triggered her orgasm. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her orgasm hit her. She bit her lip trying to hold back the loud noises that threatened to spill from her. Her hips moved up as she rode out her high. Dean watched her and almost became hard again. Her hips slowed and she opened her eyes seeing Dean already looking at her. “That was hot.” He smirked. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah well thanks to you.” She smirked back. He pulled out of her causing her to moan.

He got up and went to the bathroom and got a wet towel. He came back and cleaned her and him up. “Such a gentleman.” She teased. He laughed and threw the towel in the laundry bin. He collapsed next to her and yawned. “Tired old man?” He turned to look at her. “Baby I could go another 5 rounds.” He said. She turned towards him and smirked. “Prove it.” She said and he smirked. Sam couldn’t sleep that night but Dean and Y/N weren’t complaining.

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles #jared padalecki

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mrsrdlw · 2 months

Text

The “first date”

summary: After figuring out you liked each other, you and Eddie started dating. Your first interaction wasn’t the way he planned, so he decided to take you out on a proper date.

warnings: MDNI 18+; virgin!reader; fluff; some nerdy references (star wars troop); oral!fem!receiving; shitty writing- sorry about that.

author’s note: Hey guys, i saw how much everyone enjoyed Eddie’s Valentine story so i decided to make a second part. It took me longer then i thought to post this, but my classes at college just started so i’m still adjusting my schedule.

After what happened, you spent the rest of the morning talking in bed. You couldn't believe you actually got the courage to make a move on him. Even if it was to offer a little help with his "issue". And this was one of the many things that surprised you today. The fact that Eddie liked you back was insane. In your mind, Eddie only saw you as a girl friend. A girl he could talk about everything and nothing. Of course sometimes you caught him looking at you in was different way, but you didn't want to get delusional.

And for Eddie, he was meaning to make a move on you since he realized he was head over heels for you. But he honestly thought you would say it was way too weird to be with him this way. In a romantic way. But what is best then dating your best friend. The only thing that changed was the intimacy of things. So that's why he'd never said anything. Till this day.

"How come both of us liked each other but never did anything?" Eddie asked with one arm under his head and the other wrapped around your waist. You were laying on his chest, listening to his heart beating. You don't know how to feel about this yet. Forty minutes ago, you were still "just friends". And now you're all over each other.

"I guess i was just so scared to lose my best friend that I stayed quiet. It was better to have you in that way than not having you at all." You were being honest with yourself and with him, trying to figure it out why have you kept these feelings as a secret.

"Well i'm glad you released your horny devil today" That made you laugh and he joined you. "But to be honest, it's not how i imagined."

"What do you mean?" You got up on your elbows to see his face, a little scared from his confession. Didn't he just said that he liked it?

"I actually imagined that i would have the guts to ask you out and take you in a very nice date. Very romantic. And then, after the normal stuff normal people do, i could actually try to kiss you. But i guess we're not normal." With your eyes locked, he caressed your cheek.

"Yeah, here we start being naughty!" You said in a playful tone with a wicked grin that only made him laugh. You always loved his smile.

"I guess because we took things a little too fast, this is still kind of... unbelievable for me. Do you feel it too?" You asked, concerned you're the only one feeling this.

"Yeah. Kind of. It feels like it's a dream, right?" He asked and you nodded. "But i'm sure this is going to be as normal as last night was. It's just a matter of time. Also, just in case you didn’t realize it yet, you're my girlfriend now lady, you're stuck with me."

"Oh no! What am i gonna do?" You got out of his chest dramatically and he grabbed you again making you laugh

"Really sweetheart, i don't want you to think you'll have to act differently or anything like that. I don't want you to. I like you the way you are. All goofy and funny and sweet ." He said looking at your lips

"Look at you, all over me, aren't ya?" You said as if you weren't feeling the same

"Yeah, you got me."

After that day, you've been dating, and you couldn't be happier. You waited the whole week for saturday, which was the day of your first official date. That's how Eddie called it. Of course, he didn't want to forget what happened in that morning. But he wanted you to feel extra special. Not just some random girl.

So, he decided to take you to the drive in. This events normally happened at summer, but it was just what he wanted. Something simple, but romantic, where you two could spend time together, watching movies and maybe make out in the middle of it. It was a part of your routine together, watching movies. So, in his head, this would make you both very comfortable with the whole situation of the 'first date'.

He parked his van in front of your house right on time. He pressed the doorbell and there you were. With a cute sweater and a skirt. He loved when you wore skirts. It made your legs look so tempting.

"What do you think? Fancy enough for you mister?" You said looking down at your clothes.

"Oh my lady, you look very fancy. Come on, give me a twirl." You did it and, dramatic in his own way, he put his hand on his chest "You look amazing, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Eds" He always loved when you called him like that. Now, it was even more special.

He drove you both to the location. Even though there was a lot of cars in front of you, you had a great view of the screen. It was only ten minutes before the movie started, so he went to buy you some snacks and drinks to survive through the night. It was a marathon of star wars. The three movies. "A New Hope", "The Empire Strikes Back" and "Return of the Jedi".

The sun was starting to set when he came back. His curls in the golden light just made him look more like an angel to you.

"Here you go. I'm pretty sure we can survive with this, but if you want more, just tell me, a'right?" He insisted on buying the food, not letting you pay for anything

"That's perfect, thanks!"

Through the first movie, you didn't say a word, trying to understand everything in the movie. You always found it very confusing. Alright, maybe you were containing yourself to not put your hand on his thigh or your head on his shoulder.

Eddie also stayed in silence, too anxious to do something and fuck up the night. It was not his thing, getting anxious about girls. It was actually something he was confident. But with you, was a whole different story. He wanted to be closer to you. He was trying to find a way to get you to stay closer to him without being desperate. So he started putting one hand in your thigh. Your warm skin contrasted with his cold hand. He didn't missed the way your eyes went wide the second he touched you.

They gave a break of ten minutes to start the second movie. Now it was dark outside.

"Are you sure you don't want anything else? There is a big line there but i can go, if you want." He still had his hand on your tight.

"Yes, there is enough here." You assured him. You could see he was nervous. He’d made the first move… you could only follow his lead. "I'm just wondering here. This is a date, right?"

"Yes..."

"Don't you think this big space between us is useless? You can get closer Eddie." You said leaving his cheeks with the cutest shade of red

"I'm sorry, i didn't wanted to be too desperate" He said putting his arm around your shoulder and, without thinking too much, you placed your head on his shoulder. Eddie was in heaven. He had the girl of his dreams right by his side.

In the middle of the second movie you were still in the same position. You decided to move but, with the sudden shift, you exchanged looks. For the first time of the night, you were inches away from his lips. You couldn't help but want to kiss him so bad. Feeling the same as you, Eddie placed his hand on your cheek and brought you closer until your lips met. His lips were soft. His scent invaded your nose.

Your kiss changed from passionate to desperate very quickly. Your hands got greedy, wanting to touch him everywhere you could. In need to breathe, you separate. Panting in each other's mouth, Eddie hold your face with his both hands.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, i think we can't stay this close. I can't hold myself." He said making you smile.

"I don't think we're going to be able to pay attention on the movie anymore." Giggling, you hold his hands. "What if i said that i don't want you to control yourself?"

He separated a bit more so he could look inside your eyes. His eyes were wide open, shocked.

"I know you wanted to be a gentleman and all, but i've been thinking about this for the whole week. And remember that little horny devil? He's greedy now. More than ever." You said pressing your tights together. You weren't lying. Since he said he was going to take you on a date, you've been expecting for all the things that could happen. And you wanted to.

He was speechless. It was cute.

"I know, maybe i'm being too excited about everything. But i want it and i thought that if i had to wait for you to make a move, we would do it on the seventh date or something" He giggled at that. You were right, he thought. He wanted that too. But he would never force you to do something he knows that you didn't have much experience and you could be a little insecure. He wanted you to feel safe. He finally said something.

"Are you sure? I told you, remember? We don't have to do anything you don't want to. Especially when we're in this kind of ‘first date’ situation where we feel like we have to do stuff." You kissed him again. All you wanted was him.

"I'm sure. You said yourself remember. We’re not like the normal couples."

"Really? You know, we're in a public place ma'am. You little perv." He said making you both laugh

"So... What are your moves, huh? Gonna do it here with my clothes on or you're going to take me to the back?" You pulled his shirt to you and kissed him again.

He took your hand and pulled you to the back of the van. There was some pillows and blankets on the back.

"You were planning to do this?" You asked getting closer to him again

"I was going to take you to stargaze, actually. But you turned me on now. We'll do it later, kay?" And he kissed you.

Your kiss, like before, was hot. Craving for each other's touch. You couldn’t help but smile at the situation. Two horny teenagers in the back of a van making out like your life depends on it. Your hands travel through his chest down to his lower belly, pulling his shirt up.

"I honestly don't believe you when you say to me you're a virgin" You giggle to his reaction but stoped immediately. With his shirt off, his bare torso was in front of you. The black ink contrasting with the pale skin. You could keep looking at him shirtless for hours. But you wanted something else.

He changed your positions and looked in your eyes one more time, asking for your permission. You give it to him not thinking twice. So he takes your sweater and skirt off, leaving you only with your underwear. Thank god i piked matching ones today, you think to yourself. He kept looking to the white cotton set you chose.

“They’re pretty cute” He said earning a slap from you. “Sorry. I meant it, though.”

Smiling at him, you pulled him closer again by his necklace hanging above you only to stop inches from his lips.

“Why don’t you take ‘em off and see how cute i am without any clothes?” You said proud of yourself for being this bold. His reaction was priceless.

His hands were caressing you carefully, every move with love and affection. With you naked in front of him, his instinct was to drown himself in your neck, your chest, belly. Kissing all over your skin, making you squirm. You could feel his body heat hovering over you. Too overwhelmed by his actions, you try to take his pants off. You needed him.

“Easy there. I think we have plenty of time sweetheart.” He said taking your hands in his. He only laughed at the way you pouted. “I want to make you feel good. So why don’t you lay here and relax?” He dropped your hands, not before kissing them, and went down on your body. “It’s the only thing i could do after what you did for me last week. You were so good.” His warm breath hovered your mound and you twitched.

Not wasting any more time, he licked your clit and you gasped. You’ve never got head before. This was a new different thing for you. But oh, how you loved it. You’ve only felt some kind of pleasure there by your own fingers. But the way Eddie’s tongue kept moving and twisting around, it was a new addiction to your list. Your hands were attached to the blanket under you. You were trying so hard to not let any sound slip from your lips.

“Does it feel good?” He changed his tongue for his fingers and smiled to see you struggling to keep quiet. Not able to speak, you only nodded. Deciding to push things a little bit, he thrust his tongue inside you and you couldn’t hold the moan that came from your throat. Eddie lost his mind. He grew his movements faster than before, wanting to hear that again. He was glad that you only let them out now, or he would’ve cum in his pants by then.

Everything was so good. His tongue and fingers on your pussy and his free hand pressing your hip down so you kept quiet in place. His burning gaze on you, his hair tickling your thighs. His hot breath coming out of his nose and hitting your mound. You couldn’t take it anymore. You stopped him and pulled him up. He was confused until you kissed him. You could feel your taste on his tongue and how his chin was wet by your own slick.

“I-I need you inside me” You said gasping for air. Eddie felt his cock twitch in his boxers. Your voice was hoarse by pleasure.

He took off his jeans and boxers, almost falling down. You giggled at his tongue poking out while he searched through his wallet for a condom. “I hope this is not in there for five years. You know, condoms can expire” You joke trying to act casual seeing his dick again.

“Ha ha, very funny missy.” His voice full of sarcasm only made you laugh. He was crawling his way up to you when you both heard it. Dart Vader’s imperial march was playing. Probably the last movie had just started. You cracked, laughing hard at the situation. You even forgot where you were.

“Who are we kidding, of course in our first time having sex, Dart Vader is going to be marching towards us. It’s your fault” He said playfully

“My fault?! Why?” You asked amused

“Because you’re goofy. There’s no other reason.” You looked inside his eyes. Both of you still smiling. You just had to squeeze his arm so he knew he could move. And that’s what he did.

Slowly, his ran his tip against your wet folds and thrusted inside you. You closed your eyes, feeling his length stretching you open. It burned, making tears swell up in your eyes. Once he bottomed out, you both moaned. Giving you a few seconds to get accustomed to this new feeling, he caressed your waist, grounding you back to him.

He started to thrust slowly into you. It felt like your lungs were out of air. With each thrust of his hips, that started to get a rhythm. The muscles of his arms were flexed, his necklace was swinging, and the hands that before were caressing you, were now holding your hips for goddamn life.

“Holy fuck, you’re so tight” His eyes closed for a second, trying to hold his load a little longer. You watched every move of his. He looked amazing. It didn’t take much time for his dick to reach that spot you struggled to find. It drove you crazy. You arched your back and that made Eddie go faster. You were biting your lip but it wasn’t working anymore. If there was anyone around the van, they would probably hear your moans.

Eddie was also a mess. He wanted to freeze this moment in his mind forever. You looked perfect to him. The sounds you were making, his eyes were rolling back. Your boobs were bouncing up and down with each thrust of his. He looked down where your bodies met and saw the bulge in your lower belly, he didn’t know how long he would take.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart” He pressed kisses on your neck. You weren’t able to talk, but you pulled his hair bringing him closer to you, if that was possible. He groaned feeling you clench around him. He could feel how close you were. Once again, he massaged your clit bringing you to the edge. “Come on princess, cum for me. Just let it go” and with that, you were gone.

“Fuck Eddie” Was the only thing you said.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie

You could only think of him. Your nails scratched his back, your feet pressing on his but so he could go even deeper. Your orgasm washed all over you. With you clenching impossibly tighter around him, Eddie was also gone, cumming hard, biting on your shoulder to control his grutal moans.

When your breathing went back to normal with time, he came out of you taking off his condom and laying by your side.

“You think the van bounced too much?” He said breaking the silence. You laughed at his silliness.

“No. Otherwise people would have come here to ruin everything.” You look at him but he was already looking at you. “They might’ve heard us, though.”

“Nah, they’re nerdy people. They’re probably fantasizing about princess Leia now.” As if if wasn’t a nerd too. “You want to get out of here and go stargazing” He said putting a lock of hair behind your ear.

“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” You pecked him on the lips and got up to put your clothes back on.

And that’s how you wrap up the night. He drove you both to a place where you could see the stars. You kept talking and eating the rest of your candy from the movie. Your first date couldn’t be more perfect than that

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imtryingbuck · 5 months

Text

Confessions

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: You confess your feelings to Bucky but he doesn’t respond

Word count: 1,273

Warnings: starts off angst ends with fluff, swearing, if there’s any more please let me know

Masterlist

You should have known better than to be standing here confessing your feelings to him. At the time you mustard up all the courage you could possibly possess thinking it was a perfect idea and now you’re standing here in front of the man who looks like he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"Even if you don't feel the same... I just wanted to tell you. I’m sorry Bucky” Not being able to stomach seeing the look on his face any longer you nod towards him and walk away, as soon as you was around the corner you run all the way back to your room.

‘Stupid, stupid, you idiot! Why did you do that, of course he doesn’t like you’ pacing up and down in front of the mirror you berated yourself. You’ve never felt so embarrassed, you even cringed at yourself for the words that you used. Even if he had just said he didn’t feel the same way about you would have been fine, you would have felt less embarrassed about the rejection but him not saying anything? There’s no way you can ever show your face to anyone ever again.

The first time you confess your feelings to someone of course ends with you crying and feeling shameful.

You couldn’t even try and pass it off as a joke not with the words you used. And there was no way you’d ever be able to pass his rejection off like it meant nothing, especially not with Nat and Wanda being your friends.

‘God you’ve ruined everything!’ Scolding yourself once again, you climb into bed hoping and praying that what had just happened was just a bad dream.

“Buck?”

“Huh? Yeah what?”

“One of the agents said you’ve been standing here for ages and they’re a bit concerned. Are you alright?” Steve puts a gentle yet heavy hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Um… no not really”

“What happened? Did someone say anything to you? Who was it?” Protective Steve was making an appearance.

“I-it was Y/n…”

“What did she say?”

Finally moving, he goes to the wall and slides down it. Sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, Steve copies his movements.

“She um, she said that she likes me”

“That’s great… wait why isn’t that great?”

“Steve she looked so hopeful an-and I just stood there! I just stood there and didn’t say anything like a coward. And now I can’t get her sad eyes out of my mind” Rushing his words out.

“Buck…”

“I know, okay I know how stupid I am. She walked away and when she got round the corner she ran, I heard her running Steve”.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know what to say, fuck I was on my way to find her to... you know, to tell her I like her. I was going to ask her out but then she bumped into me and said what she said” replaying her words over again, he sighs “I didn’t know what to say, she threw me off Steve and now I’ve fucked it up before I even had the chance to be with her”

“We’ll figure something out Buck I promise, just don’t give up okay?” Steve’s confident that everything will be alright.

When you awoke the next morning, you couldn’t help the groan that slips past your lips. The memory of confessing your feelings to Bucky was real and not a bad dream.

The plan was to never leave your room again, you knew it yourself that it was a stupid plan but you was determined to stay in the comfort of your room for as long as you possibly could.

It lasted five hours before your master plan was interrupted.

“Y/n we know you’re in there so stop being rude and open the door” Nat’s voice seeped under the door.

Grumbling under your breath, pulling back the many blankets you covered yourself with, getting up on shaky legs and heading to the door.

“What do you want?” Face to face with both Nat and Wanda “I’m tired so..”

“We need to talk”

“About?”

“Tony’s party” Wanda says as it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“What party?” Racking your brain to remember Tony mentioning about another party he was throwing.

“The party. Why you being weird for you weirdo”

“Can you please not call me a weirdo Natasha”

“Ooh someone’s in a mood” Winking at Wanda who just laughs.

“Guys please leave I don’t feel up to going to a party so shoo shoo - not that way Nat!” Instead of going back out of the door Nat heads to the wardrobe.

“Stop being grumpy, we’re going to this party - you included and we’re going to have fun” Wanda speaks from the side of you “Now go and have a shower because no offence, you stink”

You knew that trying to argue anymore with the two redheads was just pointless and a complete waste of time, so you listened to Wanda and headed into the bathroom. Complaining the whole time, obviously.

Fresh out of the shower you made your way into the bedroom.

“Dry off and put this on” Nat shoves a pretty light blue dress into your hands.

“Jesus Nat give me a minute”

“Nope, times ticking”

Doing as she said, you had to admit the dress was beautiful and fit perfectly. Wanda had finished doing your hair when there was a knock at the door.

“Go and answer” Nat smiled.

“You’re closer you do it” watching as Nat moves further away from the door you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her childish behaviour.

On the other side of the door stood Bucky, dressed in a black suit, holding a bouquet of flowers in his metal hand. His flesh hand subtly rubbing against his leg.

He couldn’t help but smile at hearing your voice arguing with Nat. When the door finally opened he’s breath gets caught in his throat.

You’ve always been beautiful to him but, but seeing you in that dress, your hair done up nicely - he had no words to describe you.

“Bucky? Wha..what are you doing here?”

“I love you..” Good one Buck!

“What?”

“Shit, did I say that out loud?” Watching your head go up and down “Shit - I did-didn’t mean that, well I did, of course I mean it but I wasn’t suppose to say it now, you know? God I’m ruining this again aren’t I?” He’s all over the place, stumbling over his words and truth to be told you’ve never found him more attractive than right now, with him standing there clutching on to the flowers for dear life, cheeks and neck going bright red.

“You’re not ruining anything I promise, I thought you didn’t like me..”

“No baby I do! I like you, I mean I did just say that I love you - oh God. What is wrong with me?” He’s five seconds away from ramming his head into the wall when you start laughing “why are you laughing?”

“I love you too Bucky”

“I-you-huh? Really?” He can’t believe his ears.

“Yes, and just to make it even - I love you Bucky”

Oh how his heart soars! “Can I take you on a date please?”

“Yes, I’m assuming there’s no party?”

“Nope”

“Let’s go then” smiling you hold your hand out for him to grab.

Walking hand in hand you both reach the elevator when a voice calls out. “Don’t forget to kiss her Buck!”

Of course he doesn’t.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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chlorinecake · 5 months

Note

HELLO HELLO, CAN I REQUEST!??!?!

Asking enha legal line to "unwrap" you under the Christmas tree??? HEHEHE

❝ 𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉’𝓈 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 ❞ ┈ legal!line imagines

⍋ contains nudity, kissing, language, sexual themes, oral (f. receiving), rough sex (in heeseung’s), more suggestive than anything, 200-300 words per member

⍋ These get progressively less smutty as you continue reading, so the drabbles are arranged from oldest to youngest !!

⍋ a/n I switched up the plot for some of the members just so it wouldn’t get redundant [hope you don’t mind 🫶]

이희승 :*: Lee Heeseung - Going to the living room in search for you, your boyfriend eventually found you sitting in front of the Christmas tree, glaring at him seductively in your wrapping paper costume. “Merry Christmas, baby,” you smiled as he drew closer to you, giving you a soft peck on the lips that immediately escalated into a tongue-against-tongue make out sesh. “Merry Christmas to you too, baby,” Heeseung grinned before you broke from the kiss, giving him a snarky look. “This wrapping paper isn’t very comfy, y’know?,” you said, only for things to escalate from there, this little surprise of yours turning him on way more than expected.

“Such a kinky little slut , aren’t you? Wanting me to fuck you under the Christmas tree first thing in the morning?” He said in a low growl, tearing through the wrapping paper. “Heeseun-“

“How about you be a good toy for me and let me have my way with you, yeah?” He interrupted your thoughts with a slam into your needy cunt, the tree lights glistening off your tears as he fucked you nice and hard for all the neighbors to hear. You tried pushing his hips away from you but he only pulled you closer, gripping your waist as he went crazy inside you. “That’s it baby, taking my cock so well. Tell me how good it feels. Tell me how good I’m fucking you,” he groaned hoarsely, your body sliding against the torn wrapping paper beneath you as you clung to his shoulders, sweet little cries falling from your swollen lips. “Feels so good, Hee... ‘love it when you use me like this.”

박종성 :*: Park Jongseong, who got up a little earlier than you, headed straight to the kitchen to make you a special Christmas breakfast. Meanwhile, you busied yourself in the bathroom, wrapping paper and tape in hand to surprise Jay with something a little different this holiday season. “Guess who?” You chirped in a playful yet seductive voice, covering his eyes as he stood before the stovetop in his apron. He fanned your hands from his vision, turning to see your costume.

"Oh. I didn’t know we were doing presents first,” he smirked, turning off the fire and lifting you to the cabinet. “With the look on your face, I can’t say you seem too against it,” you teased, right before he parted your legs, tearing the cheap wrapping paper as your back met the cold countertop. You were putting up a front to rile him up, when deep down, you were the one craving to be touched more than anything. “Hmm,” he hummed through hazy eyes, taking in the view of your amazing figure as his hands ran all over you. “Well in that case, I suppose breakfast can wait a little longer,” he said, spitting in his hand before palming your bare pussy, his initially playful demeanor becoming much more dominant as things continued.

심재윤 :*: Sim Jaeyun - You made yourself a makeshift mini skirt and bra out of wrapping paper and gift bows that morning. Why? Because you wanted to cheer up Jake with a silly surprise after he wasn't able to visit his parents for the holidays. He had just came back into the living room with a blindfold over his eyes as you instructed him to wear, clear tape sealing the imperfections in your costume. "What is this all about anyway,” he asked, slightly confused.

“Nothing, just keep walking,” you giggled playfully.

“I know that voice, angel… you're up to something, I just know it."

"Well why don't you take off the blindfold and find out then?”

He didn’t hesitate to remove the covering from his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips at the sight of you beside the Christmas tree, wrapped like a present. It made your heart flutter seeing that his smile returned, but it made something else flutter when he met you in the ground, removing the wrapping paper from your body with his teeth as you stared back at him with lust ridden eyes. It was only a matter of time before his mouth met your throbbing core, sucking on your clit as his fingers worked wonders in you, all in preparation for you to take him.

박성훈 :*: Park Sunghoon - You woke up Sunghoon by calling his name in a sing-song voice. it took you a while to get past admiring his sleeping form before you brushed his hand with a tender kiss, waking him from his slumber. It was Christmas morning, and you figured what better way to start the day after being touch deprived thanks to your busy work schedules than with a little teasing? "Morning, baby," you smiled, leaning in to leave another peck to the mole on his nose, eliciting a groan from him coupled with a few lazy flutters of his eyes.

The cutest smirk creeped on his face as he felt you on top of him, slightly circling your hips. "What's all this," he groaned in a husk voice, noticing the gift wrap you wore around you. "A gift... for you... but only if you promise to let me stay on top," you cooed in a seductive tone. "On top, hmm?" He asked, grabbing hold of your hips as he rolled you to the other side of the bed, caging you beneath his broad figure, "like this?" His hand gripped the bed frame, the sight of his flexed arm muscles distracting you as you heard a tear in the wrapping paper, followed by cold air hitting your nakedness. "This’ll work for now, but only because I’m too horny to say otherwise.”

김선우 :*: Kim Sunoo - “Tell me what you want for Christmas. Anything! And I’ll make it happen for you,” your cheerful boyfriend smiled, holding your hands tightly in his as you sat in the living room.

“What if I asked you for something silly?” You asked, shyly losing contact with his eyes as you crossed your legs. “Anything means anything, my love. It’s worth it for you, now tell me what you want!!” he giggled, tickling your stomach as you swatted his fingers. “YAHH, fine, okay, lemme think first," you sighed, eating one of the gingerbread cookies from the plate before it finally hit you. "Wait- Just give me oneeee second, I'll be back!" Sunoo had no idea what you were thinking, so you can imagine the shocked look on his face once you returned, wrapped up like a Christmas present.

"My question was supposed to answer what you want, not me," he smiled softly, pulling your arm as he leaned in for a gentle peck to your lips. "I knowww… and I'm getting to that part right now," you smiled, sitting beside the Christmas tree. "I want you to unwrap me… and underneath, there'll be a surprise for you, too." He didn't hesitate to start ripping at the paper, mirroring the excitement of a kitten until his eyes widened at the sight of the white lingerie set you wore beneath, dainty bows and silk fabrics captivating him. "____," he stuttered over your name as you pushed him on his back, straddling his nervous frame. There was still one more thing you wanted from Sunoo this Christmas, and judging from the look on his face, your minds were both in the same place now.

양정원 :*: Yang Jungwon - He was busy getting extra covers for your movie night from your shared bedroom when he heard a terrorizing shriek from the other room. "Wonieeeee~" you cried out, making the most of your acting abilities. Obviously, you were perfectly fine, but you couldn't think of any other way to show off the wrapping paper two piece outfit you'd made than by making a big scene. "Baby, baby! Where are you?" He called out, sliding around the floor with his socks in a frantic search for you. That's when he heard you giggling in the living room, sighing slightly as everything started to sink in: you were messing with him.

"I should've known," he smirked in satisfaction and slight dumbfoundedness, taking in the view of your festive paper costume and complimentary Santa hat accessory. "Should've known what?" you asked teasingly, inching closer before pulling him into you by his lower back. He found it amusing, really… the way you tried to assert dominance over him, giving him a proud look that he knew would only take one of his kisses to wipe away.

"You're naughty, I get it..." he whispered, tossing the hat from your head before leaving a kiss to your temple. And another to your lips, then to your neck. "This now, movies later," he said in a deep voice, the wrapping paper costume you wore already long gone as his hands explored the red lingerie you wore beneath, his lips never leaving yours as your cold bodies grew more and more needier for each other.

౨ৎ Tysm for reading! Not gonna lie, this was pretty shitty but maybe you guys will like it more than I do :)) Feel free to check out my enhypen bookshelf for more fun reads, and happy holidays ~

౨ৎ [Permanent] Taglist: @squoxle @ashgonedash @nikisdubblchococake @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33

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sinnersweets · 3 months

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DogDay x Reader part 3

<----part 2, part 4--->

A/N: It’s been a week since your first day

Everytime I came in for my shift I always needed to change into my uniform which was starting to get tiring. I wasn’t allowed to take the shirt, nametag, or headband home. I promised the team member that I would bring everything back, but they said they needed to wash it every time with the vanilla scent that DogDay has. I huffed in disappointment and took the clothes and went to go change.

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I was told that at the start of the week all the helpers need to give their assigned Smiling Critter a bath that way their scent can be strong again. Also, we needed to arrive two hours before Playcare opened to everyone. Guessing it took a while to wash everyone. Then a thought came into my head. DogDay is a dog, and dogs typically hated getting wet. Oh boy, today would not be easy for me.

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The Playcare looked scary when the lights were off. The only lights present was from the Bron lamps. I walked over to the counselors building and somehow while looking at the ground, I tripped over a wire. “Ah-!” I hit the ground and laid on the floor for ten seconds before rising to my elbows and looking at the wire. While I looked back at the wire, I noticed that it started to move. As I got a closer look, I saw that this wire was fluffy, and purple. “Huh?” Then suddenly whatever I tripped on wrapped around my ankle and quickly pulled me into the air. I didn’t dare make a sound while I was being hoisted up knowing that the kids were all asleep. My morning was going great.

I was brought up to the statues and finally saw what the heck grabbed me. CatNap. This was the first time I’ve seen him up close and he was by far the scariest one out of the group. Since I was hanging upside down, I had to hold my shirt down with my hands. “Hey there CatNap...could you um, put me down please?” Where the hell was Sarah?! She’s supposed to be keeping an eye on him as his helper. CatNap just stared at me. DogDay did tell me that CatNap doesn’t really talk, but him not talking was making this much creepier.

“Psst, CatNap, Angel, what are you doing?!” I looked at the floor and spotted DogDay just below me. “CatNap she’s my helper not a doctor. She’s a friend!” DogDay whispered but also yelled out. “Friend....” That’s all CatNap said before releasing his tail from me. I fell and landed into DogDays arms. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven Angel?” He laughed at the joke that he made. I look towards him with a concerned look on my face. “He pulled me into the air and then dropped me...and you...”

It then registered what DogDay had just said to me, and I smiled and laughed, all the anger that I felt left. “I can’t believe you just said that. That was cheesy.” I wiped a tear away from laughing. “I wanted to see a smile on your face Angel, especially since what was happening with you and CatNap.” “Yeah, what was that all about anyway?” His face then looked nervous for a moment before he answered. “He’s not a fan of adults. He rarely tolerates his helper. He didn’t mean any harm, really.” I looked back up to the statues, but CatNap was no longer there. “Hm. Well next time I see him I want an apology.” DogDay chuckled and nodded his head. “Oh, I like your earrings, Angel.” I totally forgot that I went out yesterday and bought me a pair of sun earrings. I liked getting earrings to match my outfit. It was earlier than I liked to be awake at, so it slipped my mind that I wore them. “Thank you, there new.”

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DogDay led me to a hidden door that blended in perfectly against the walls. This was where they got washed up. Each Smiling Critter had their own room with everything they needed to be cleaned properly. The whole time we were walking towards DogDays room he was cheerful but as soon as we entered the room, and I closed the door he started shaking. “Hey, hey it’s okay. Taking baths are fun!” I grabbed onto his paw to try to calm him down. DogDay then stopped shaking and looked at me and smiled. “Normally I would give myself a bath but now that I have you Angel, this should be less scary.” I nodded my head and went to put on an apron to not get myself wet. “Alright, let's get started! First, I will need to take off your pendant, don’t want that getting dirty now.” DogDay lowered himself so that I could reach behind his neck and undo the knot from his pendant.

Since it was just us, I decided to ask him a question that I had for him. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you this, but you said you went through a lot of applicants before landing on me. What made me stand out?” I could feel DogDay stiffen when I asked this. I was still untying his pendant when he spoke. “Everyone else's application seemed so boring, plus the pictures that they sent in I could tell that they would not be good to work down here at Playcare. But yours Angels, your picture was just full of-” I accidentally cut him off as his pendant was quite heavy and made me yelp in surprise. “Jeez this is heavy!”

DogDay saw me struggling to pick it up and took it from me and set it down on the table. “Woops, should’ve worn you, sorry Angel.” “That’s really heavy, guess the kids weren’t lying when they said you were strong.” I nudge DogDay playfully. His ears perked up and he wagged his tail. Cute. “Okay now the not so fun part.” I pointed over to where DogDay needed to be at to get washed. He swallowed hard but then walked on all fours over to the area. I saw that there was a step stool for me, so I grabbed it and placed it near him. “I’ll try to be really quick, okay?” He nodded and closed his eyes. I turned on the hose and started to wet DogDay.

---------------

It took around three minutes to fully wet DogDay, yeesh. Now I had to put the vanilla scented soap on him. To pull his mind away from his bath I decided to playfully tease him about calling me pretty. “By the way, I never got to thank you for calling me pretty.” “Huh?!” His ears perked up again. “Oh- right, I forgot that Damian shouted that out...Well you are pretty Angel.” I scrubbed his ears and smiled. “Thank you.” It took me thirty minutes to cover DogDay with soap. This was tiring, but I’ll improve over time. “Okay almost done, just gotta rinse you off and then dry you and then comb your fur and that’s it!” As I said it aloud, I realized that those tasks would also take a while.

I rinsed off DogDay and turned off the hose. I walked over to a cubby and took off my apron while also grabbing a blow dryer. As I was plugging in the blow dryer I looked over and noticed that he had a look in his eyes. “Angel, I gotta shake this water off.” Oh no. “Nonono don’t shake, please don’t shake.” “It’s dripping down my body...” “Don’t shake!” “I gotta shake!” “No no shaking-” Too late. DogDay shook all the water off of him. DogDay sighed as he no longer felt as wet as he did before. “Whew I feel so much better.” DogDay turned to look at me and he then saw the aftermath of what he did.

There I stood, all drenched in water. “So sorry Angel...” Even though I was drenched in chilly water I wasn’t angry at all. I started to laugh aloud. “Haha! I should’ve known that was gonna happen.” DogDay smiled and wagged his tail. “I really tried to not shake Angel.” “It’s okay, ahem, now let’s dry ourselves off.”

I got dried as best as I could but knew I was going to need to change out of these wet clothes before getting sick. I brushed out DogDays fur and added in some more vanilla scent to him. DogDay then grabbed his pendant and I decided to buff it out so that it’ll shine. I looked at the pendant and saw my reflection. “There, all beautiful now.” “Yes, you are Angel...I-I mean yes, it’s beautiful now haha...” I booped him on the nose with my finger and smiled at him. “Thank you, you are looking pretty handsome now after that bath.” His ears perked up and his tail was wagging back and forth fast. Seeing DogDay like this made me happy, and warm inside...maybe I was already getting sick.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

#sinnersweets #poppy playtime #x reader #dogday #dogday x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #catnap

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drewstarkeyslut · 3 months

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IN FOR IT ᡣ𐭩

ok babes, i'm literally doing something seriously out of my comfort zone. just a little something i guess....THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING so please keep that in mind + don’t come for me. i literally tried my fucking best — idk how to format or anything either so please don't judge. IM NERVOUS OK BYEE😂

Summary: rafe walks in on you masturbating, and he decides to put you to use.

Warnings: mdni nsfw 18+, oral sex (male receiving), throat fucking, daddy kink, choking.. use of slut/whore. idk what else? that's about it

you knew rafe would be home soon but waiting was not an option right now. you already waited all morning and quite honestly you wanted to get caught because you knew the exact reaction you would get from him.

you waste no time getting comfortable and taking your clothes off in a hurry. once you were sprawled out on the couch you reach down towards your pussy and start rubbing your clit in a circular motion. the only thing on your mind was rafe’s cock balls deep in your cunt.

“yes! yes! omg! rafe right there! feels s'good” you scream out which catches rafe’s attention as he enters the living room. he just came home not even five minutes after you started. he see’s you on the couch legs spread wide open, rubbing yourself to the thought of him. rafe smirks, head shaking as he walks towards you. "what do you think you're doing y/n?"

“rafe!? you’re home earlier than usual, i—i was just…so fucking horny i needed to feel you but i just couldn't wait any longer” you whine out, slightly embarrassed at being caught for the first time yet turned on at the same time.

the look rafe had in his eyes was unreadable, making you worry. you start closing your legs as fast as you could but rafe was faster. his strong hands pry your legs wide open as far as they would go.

“shut up y/n. i really don't want to hear it. don't feed me that bullshit.” rafe grits out, towering over your naked body.

“y’know i’m going to punish you for this but a slut like you would love that wouldn’t you? couldn’t even wait for me to come home. shit, just had to touch yourself like the fucking whore you are, yeah?" rafe groans in your ear as he harshly slaps your pussy.

“ahhhh! mmmm, i’m really sorry daddy i swear, was just thinking about you, missin' you…and i got carried away, that’s all..i know i wasn't supposed to touch myself without your permission" you start rambling.

“aw how sweet, you missin’ me? that’s real damn cute but ah ah, don’t think you’re getting off the hook so easily pretty girl, you want my cock that bad huh?” rafe smirks, eyes turning dark with lust.

“yes rafe, please, i need you, need your cock.. i don’t care, just need your cum r-right now so fucking bad. i’ll do anything please, wanna be your little cumslut” you beg, giving rafe pleading eyes.

he wastes no time undoing his belt and pulling his pants down just enough for his throbbing hard cock to spring free slapping his stomach, precum already dripping from his tip. you swear you could've came just from the sight of rafes perfect cock standing at attention for you.

rafe has zero patience as he grabs you by your throat, gripping you so hard it was sure to leave a mark. he pulls you down onto the floor on your knees. he lets go of your neck with aggression it made your head throw back a bit. you were sure you were close to passing out but thankful rafe let go of your neck when he did.

“we're not going to have any problems here now are we, y/n?” you're going to be a good girl for daddy and suck yeah? ” he groans, eyes darting from your lips to his hard length.

when rafe tells you to do something you always do as you’re told honestly scared of what could happen if you didn’t listen. you really didn’t want to find out either.

“hey, listen, daddy is talking to you, be a good little slut for me hmmm?" rafe jeers as he grabs your chin making you look up at him.

“yes daddy, going to be on my best behavior” you smile up at him licking your lips.

“that's what i thought, open that pretty little mouth of yours and put it to use, stick your tongue out” rafe demands.

you obey as he slaps the tip of his cock on your tongue. his salty precum coating your tongue, making you shiver, and leaving your pussy throbbing with need. the wetness from your cunt leaking down your thighs.

too horny at this point and knowing you weren’t going to be able to cum tonight, you start working his cock with both hands, twisting and tugging while licking and sucking his cock. your filthy little mouth going far down his length, taking as much as you could before gagging.

"god, you're such a fucking slut, i bet you’re soaking wet already and i didn't even touch you. look at you getting all cock drunk like the whore you are" rafe teases.

you remove your mouth from his cock, a string of spit that connected from your mouth to his shaft coming undone, making quite the mess. you were now officially cock drunk. licking stripes up and down his cock while stroking with both hands, alternating between licking and sucking, after each deep throat making sure to add the popping sound that rafe loved so much. it drove him wild.

for a slight moment you take the time to appreciate the view in front you. rafe's cock standing at attention just for you, smothered in both spit and precum, throbbing with intense need to empty his seed.

cupping his balls, you start to massage them making rafe gasp with pleasure. “you like that daddy? when i squeeze and lick them?” you tease as you start licking at his balls, giving them a little suck. rafe’s moans filling the room. this gives you more motivation and you start to ravish his cock while caressing his balls. your tongue is going absolutely feral all over his throbbing cock.

you are sucking him with extreme passion, your head starting to go dizzy. he is a moaning mess above you, mouth open, and head tilted back. he was completely blissed out turning you on even more.

you’re going to deep you start to choke. unable to breathe you try pulling away, but rafe grabs the back of your head and thrusts deeper into your mouth.

“this dick too big for you to handle, huh?” rafe laughs. you could only nod your head in response. “fuck, you’ll be fine, come on you got it baby. just like that. feels so fuckin’ good” you look up at him with red teary eyes and drool dripping from the sides of your mouth.

“god damn, you look so beautiful like this” he groans as he slaps your cheek and pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail. he starts guiding your head back and forth on his cock, slow but deep. he was in complete euphoria.

something about you looking up at him with those innocent doe eyes had him on the edge. he plants a kiss on your forehead then grabs the back of your head once more and starts to thrust into your mouth at a sloppy pace. he was fucking your face so brutally you definitely couldn’t breathe. rafe could care less, he just wanted to empty his warm seed down your throat.

things were getting real intense. you were a moaning mess, your moans vibrating down his shaft.

“oooh shit! don’t you fucking stop! i’m—i’m gonna cum y/n, fuuuuuck!!” rafe practically screams, room filled with his loud moans. his cock starts to pulsate as warm spurts of cum shoot down your throat.

you make sure to swallow every single drop because you can hear rafe in your head, “that's what good girls do, they swallow.”

“mmm, fuck rafe. tastes soo good, i swallowed it all, just for you. did i do good daddy?” you question rafe as you stare up at him with such an innocent look.

“always my good girl baby, now open that filthy, slutty mouth of yours and let me see and let me see” rafe demands as he grabs your chin and tilts your head back. you open your mouth showing him that every last drop of his cum had been swallowed.

“oh yeah, you’re daddy's good little cumslut. always making me feel so fuckin' good, and don’t worry i’m just getting started princess, not even done with you yet. take your sexy ass to the bedroom” rafe slaps your ass as you get up and start walking towards the hallway.

#my first fic🥹#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron one shot #mdni divider creds: hitobaby

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magics-neptunes-things · 7 months

Text

Secret Love II

So, here we are with the second part! I don't really where I'm going with it right now to be honest, so I'm just gonna I’ll just let my imagination run wild.

Thanks for your reviews, don't hesitate leave me some, it always makes me very happy to know what you think of my writings :)

Enjoy!

P.S Part one is HERE

____________________________________________________________

A few hours after leaving your hotel room, you return there hoping to be as discreet as you were before. On tiptoe, you reach your bed and slip under the covers, your mind always with Alexia. She also went to her room, you both agreed that it was important to enjoy the last hours of sleep before dawn. While you are looking for sleep, you don't realize that Ona’s breathing is no longer as deep as when you left, indicating that she is awake.

"... going to be late!"

Ona’s voice comes to you like through a fog and you need a few blinks of eyes to finally fix your gaze on her face.

"Breakfast is in seven minutes, you know how is Vilda with late people"

Oh man. You jump of your bed, frantically searching for your clothes by making more mess than anything else. You sprint in the bathroom to wash your face and comb your hair in a messy bun, trying to get the sleep of your face.

"Ona go, don't be let yourself" you say to your roomate.

"You sure?" she asked, popping her head by the door.

"Yeah"

"Ok. Your shirt is upside down."

You swear before you put it right, jump in your sneakers and go out slamming the door of the room. Obviously the elevator doors close a few meters from you, so you decide to take the stairs. It’s a miracle you’re on time and you're not even the last one.

You spot Alexia, sitting next to Jenni and Irene, with the same fresh, rested look as if she had slept 12 hours straight. This woman, you thought, before serving you a breakfast tray and looking for a free place.

************************

"Y/N what's that?"

You turn around but Aitana had time to have a close look to the hickey Alexia made two days ago. Her loud question made everyone turn around, even if you all were supposed to be focused on your strength exercises.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, your mind racing while looking for a good excuse.

"You got a bruise on your neck"

At this point those who were furthest away turned their attention to their exercises, but you feel that the look of several of your teammates burning your back. You crossed Alexia's eyes for a second and open the mouth to talk, but another voice answers before you.

"It must have been when you fell while getting ready, the morning you were late. I thought she was gonna break her neck."

The second sentence is more for Aitana than for you, but she seems to accept this answer with even a small laugh before grabbing his dumbbell again. It's Ona's look that you cross this time and since you don’t know what to tell her, you’re starting to do your exercises again.

************************

"So, you and Alexia uh?"

You were back in your room, reading a book while listening some music. It was free time but it was so cold outside that you didn't want to go out for now. Ona had said nothing until now, even during the meal time when you found yourself sitting in front of her. Even if you knew the subject was coming at some point, you appreciate the fact that she chooses to be sure she isn’t being heard by anyone to bring the subject.

"Well... Maybe"

You can't fight back the smile on your face and your vague answer seems to be enough for your roommate.

"Who knows?" she asked.

"No one, apart from Alexia’s mother."

"Even Jenni?"

You bite your lip and shakes your head. You know Alexia want to talk about it with Jenni, she's her bestfriend after all. But you had a rule and she just get with it.

"We got together six months after I arrived in Barcelona, I had a hard time understanding what was happening the first time she tried to flirt with me."

You smile in spite of yourself, the flirting was not necessarily the strong of Alexia but you always found it touching.

"And then we broke up when we lost against Wolfsburg, she thought our relationship was what kept her from focusing on the game and the win."

You swallow with difficulty, these memories being particularly dark for both of you. But now that you’ve started talking about your story, you can’t stop. Especially since the Catalan seems to be an excellent listener.

"After that we lost the final... It was awful. I spent every second trying not to look at her, not to show anything to anyone. No one knew and they thought I was disappointed that we lost the final when I was in reality heartbroken."

Lost in your thoughts, your gaze on your hands, you notice only when you feel her presence that Ona left her bed to sit next to you. She places her hand on your arm and you look up at her smiling, which must probably seem strange to her given with what you're saying after.

"Weeks and months passed and we found ourselves training for the Euro. And you certainly don’t need me to remind you what happened with her ACL."

Ona’s grimace speaking of herself, you continue, leaning against the wall behind you.

"I wrote her several times to tell her that I was thinking about her, but she didn't answer. I didn't expect her though, I knew that she had cut contact with almost everyone. But when we were eliminated and I returned to Barcelona, I found her one time on my doormat. She was... I never saw her like that Ona. She was destroyed."

The memory of this moment gives you shivers and you shake yourself mentally to return to the present.

"I let her in and she talked about her insecurities. She told me she was supposed to be in rehab in 15 minutes, but she didn’t want to go. She felt that it was useless and that she would never play again. So I threatened to call her mother and took her there. That’s when we started seeing each other again and got back together soon after."

There was a small silence, during which Ona seemed to digest the information you had just given her. With frowns, she looks at you thoughtfully when answering.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was this deep. And I’m sorry you both had to go through this without being able to tell anyone."

"It's in the past now. I can't talk for her but she makes me really happy. You really saved us this morning, but please keep it to yourself for now"

"I will"

She smiles and you kiss her cheek before she gets up to go to the bathroom. Thinking it's better to inform Alexia, you take your phone.

You - Can you talk?

Mi Reina ♥ - Yes, what's up?

You - Ona knows about us, I kind of just told her everything.

Mi Reina ♥ - Well she kind of cover you up this morning so it was obvious Guapa

You - Sorry if my girlfriend can't keep her lips to herself :)

Mi Reina ♥ - Touché.

Mi Reina ♥ - Can I talk to Jenni about us, since Ona knows?

You - If you want to, it's ok for me.

The next day, it didn’t take you long to realize that Alexia had spoken to Jenni. You have surprised the gaze of the striker several times, examining you with a thoughtfulness look. Every time you catch her looking at you, you were foolishly blushing and it was only when Alexia slapped her head that she stopped looking at you.

************************

Time pass and here you are, at the final of the World Cup. The more you advanced in the tournament, the harder it was to manage time for you and Alexia. But you had a few moments, thanks to Jenni and Ona who covered you a few times. You didn’t escape Jenni’s threatening conversation, based on "Hurt my best friend and you won’t see the light of the day again" but other than that she seems to have given you her blessing.

You were in the locker room once again, but this time it was the Final. You were playing against England, your last game of the tournament. You're not really listening what Vilda is saying, focused on your boots. You start the match, next to Alexia, Ona, Jenni and your others teammates. You’re stressed, you can’t wait for the game to start now.

You haven't forget the promise Alexia made this night in your hotel, but you haven't bring to topic again. Even if it doesn't happend, you couldn't be more happy.

What it seems an eternity later, you were on the fields and the referee was blowing in her whistle. You made it, you were World Champions. Tears of joy and relief invaded your eyes and you find yourself caught in a collective embrace, without really knowing who is tight against you. Cries of joy, tears and the cheering of the crowd around you seem to come from far away.

When you are able to stand up, you find yourself facing Ona who also huggs you before mumbling "I have to find Lucy". Of course she have to, not matter what is her relationship with her, they are really close.

You search for a particular person too, your eyes scanning around for pink hair. When you spot Alexia, she's on the ground and Jenni is helping her to stand up.

A bit like in a dream, you start running towards her before throwing yourself in her arms. The mix of emotion makes you feel like you’re floating when you wrap your legs around her waist and she hugs you back.

"We did it" you say, while she keeps you in her arms.

"Yes we did" she answers, with the most beautiful smile in her face.

If you weren't already madly in love with her, you'll probably fall again right now.

"So… What now?" you asked soflty after some seconds of silence you passed admiring her.

"I'm going to kiss you."

And she did, barely letting you the time to understand what she said. Keeping you in her arms, she approaches her face to yours and places her lips on yours, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Of course you hear exclamations of surprise around you, but you can’t focus on anything other than Alexia. She ends up putting you down, letting go your lips for a few seconds to catch her breath. You then kiss her a few seconds later, drawing her as close as possible.

You may have won the World Cup, but ultimately your greatest victory is her.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine

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moodriingz · 4 months

Text

Waiting Room | Q. Hughes

Summary | Reader works for the Canucks’ socials and has an unrequited crush on Quinn. Based off of Waiting room by Phoebe Bridgers.

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc

Warnings | unrequited love, angst, moving on?

Author's Note | Oh my gosh this ended up so much longer than intended, so buckle in it’s a long one. I thought about trying to shorten it but I had so many ideas about what to include. I was also so nervous to write this one that it took me forever to finish. Also thinking of writing a part two, but let me know what you think. Please send in requests for other players!

Masterlist

Part two

If you were a teacher, I would fail your class

Take it over and over 'til you noticed me

“This is why you are the best person ever,” Quinn said as you carried an insane amount of coffee for some of the team and the Canucks social staff.

“Oh, it’s no big deal I always just pick some up when I get mine,” you say as you almost drop the lattes from your hands. “I’m going to find Elias and drop his off and then head to my desk. See you at practice.”

“Y/N how did you know I didn’t get the chance to pick up my coffee?” Elias asked with a smirk. “Or did you just get extra so it wouldn’t be obvious you love to get Quinn’s coffee?”

“Goodbye Elias! I’ll see you on the ice in a bit!” You shout as you walk down the hall to the social media office.

You set down the last two coffees on your desk, go through your emails, and write down some ideas for content before your morning meeting.

“Y/N you have to stop buying his coffee, you're just torturing yourself,” Megan says as she sets her bag down. “But please don’t stop bringing me coffee because I never have enough time to get some myself.”

“Ok Megan I’ll keep that in mind, but I don’t get it just for Quinn, I also got it for Elias today,” you say with a blush covering your cheeks.

“Yeah alright. Let’s go get this meeting started.”

If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor

I would sit there with my first aid kit and bleed

After the meeting with the rest of the social media and communications team, it’s decided that you have to go on the ice to capture content today. Usually, you can just film from the bench, but your boss wanted some trending content that required you to skate with the team. The only bad thing about filming on the ice was your awful case of clumsiness.

You were filming content with Brock when you tripped over your own two feet. Normally, you’d laugh it off after getting up, but your left foot twisted under your body.

You wince as Brock helps you stand to skate off the pain but yelp the second you put your weight on the foot. Quinn watches as Brock’s hands are on your waste and immediately skates over the second you cry out in pain.

“Are you ok? What happened?” Quinn asked, putting your arm around his shoulders to support you as he took you to the bench.

“I-I’m fine. I just twisted my ankle as I fell,” You say looking into his worried eyes.

“Ok, let me take the skate off, and then we can go to the trainers and get you ice,” Quinn grimaces as he takes the skate off and sees your ankle already swelling.

“It’s probably just a sprain, but we need to get ice on this ASAP. I’ll take you to the trainers, let's go,” Quinn says standing to help you up.

“But what about practice? You guys have your East Coast road trip coming up, and I’m not going to be the reason you skip out on practice,” You say trying to figure your way to get ice or wait until Megan comes to help.

Truthfully though, you don’t want him to take you because the way Quinn is taking care of you makes you fall harder for him.

“Don’t be crazy. Practice is almost over and they won’t miss me for the five minutes it’ll take me to make sure you’re ok,” Quinn says as you nod reluctantly. You feel your blush coming back and know you’re never going to get over your silly crush on Quinn Hughes.

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

The next night the Canucks lost to the Flyers with just a game left before the two-week road trip. The loss was hard following Christmas, and Quinn was beating himself up over the game. You found him after finishing up your content for the night and he finished his interviews. He tried to smile at you, but it looked like a grimace from how tight his lips were.

“Hey how are you,” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You say sheepishly.

“Yeah, I guess. Are you busy tonight? I was hoping we could hang out at my place and watch some movies,” Quinn’s question surprised you. You’ve only really hung out in group settings or when the team went out after a game.

“I’m free, let me just finish wrapping some stuff up and then we can go,” You say with butterflies forming in your chest.

You go and find Megan and tell her everything that happened with Quinn.

“Shut up you’re going, right?” She asks.

“Yeah of course I am, I think I’d be stupid not to. I’m just nervous,” You respond.

“Don’t be. He asked you over for a reason he must not hate you.” Megan says practically pushing you out the door.

You nod and go back to find Quinn talking to Elias while he waits for you to come back.

“Hey ready to go?” You ask.

“You’re replacing me for our movie nights?” Elias blurts out of jealousy.

“No, not completely replacing you. I just didn’t want to wallow alone. Plus I figured Y/N would be free,” Quinn says nonchalantly. There’s a pang in your chest because not only is this a tradition with someone else, but that he just assumed you’re at his beck and call. You both arrive at his apartment after a silent drive from Rogers arena.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks, swaying back and forth. Is he nervous? Why would he be? It's not like this is a date or anything. This is something he always does with Elias.

“Can I just have water?” You say quieter than intended. You felt small and out of place in his apartment.

“Of course. Do you want to pick out the movie? I figure you should do the honors for your first movie night,” He says as he pours your water.

You think for a second and immediately know you should put on your favorite rom-com 13 going on 30. It’s kind of a comfort movie and you might calm down with something familiar. Once it’s pulled up he sits down with you on the couch.

And I can wish all that I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me, I know it's for the better

He told you he’s never seen the movie as he sits down and watches intently until the birthday scene.

“Man, I feel so bad for that Matty kid.”

“Why,” you say, keeping your attention on the tv.

“His unrequited love with Jenna,” He says it so plainly like he’s toying with you for your confession.

“Yeah unrequited love is the worst,” You say finally looking over at him.

“Why do you have feelings like that for someone,” He chuckles at the idea. You realize he doesn’t know that you have feelings for him.

“No. I did at one point,” You say, and the subject is dropped. You watch the rest of the movie and he orders you an Uber home. You realized that night that your crush needs to end no matter how hard it is.

And when broken bodies are washed ashore

Who am I to ask for more, more, more?

Quinn seems to be in a much better mood from the loss the night before. But you want to avoid him at all costs today. Your boss asks you to do something with him later. There’s nothing you rather do than work with Quinn, but You want to stay in your boss’ good graces.

She asked you to shoot a video with a concept that had been performing well on socials with other players. You find Quinn before he steps out for practice to let him know you’re following him for the day.

“Hopefully you can keep a better balance than you did with Brock,” He chuckles.

“Yeah I’ll try my best not to fall today,” you say with your signature blush covering your cheeks.

“Well if you do I’ll catch you. Can’t have my favorite staffer breaking something.” Oh, he must be playing with you. Your face is completely flushed and you give a court nod before running to the restroom to calm down.

You start to think over your last couple of conversations. Had he been flirting? Or giving you more attention than usual? You think about how he rushed to your side and left practice just to help you even if it got him in trouble. You think about his smile when you bring his coffee. You think about last night how he was so tuned into unrequited love.

“No Y/N there are bigger things than a silly little crush. You have to go do your job.” You say to yourself in the mirror. After your pep talk, you go out on the ice, shoot your content quickly, and then go back to your office to edit. You tell yourself that you need to stop focusing so much on Quinn.

But you're breathing in my open mouth

You're the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out

The Canucks win the next game, and before you can make it into the locker room to shoot content Brock stops you.

“Y/N! Are you coming out with us tonight?” He asks. You can see Quinn’s head pick up waiting for your response.

“Yeah, I can. I just need to film a couple of the post-game interviews and then I can leave,” you say excited for a drink.

When you all arrive at the usual bar you head straight up to the bar. You give a once-over of the crowd and how many people are there tonight. You go find the boys at their usual table. And you find Quinn’s eyes already staring at yours.

“I think I’m going to go dance,” You tell Elias before turning around to head to the dance floor.

“Where’s she going,” Quinn asks Elias, watching your retreating figure.

“Going to dance. Are you going to replace me there too?” He jokes.

“Haha, very funny. I’ll be back in a bit,” Quinn says as he leaves to find you.

Of course, you’re in the middle of the crowd and once he finds you’re already making new friends. Quinn laughs to himself because you’re so sociable unlike him.

“Are you ok if I join you,” Quinn says leaning in. You can only nod and note his proximity but brush it off due to the crowded area.

He dances close to you as music plays over the speakers. His energy and presence make you feel alive. He follows your moves as you’re face to face and you never want this night to end. However, at the end of the song, he notices your glass is empty and offers you another drink. You nod and follow him back to the bar.

“Aren’t you going to order something?” You ask after he only requests your drink. He shakes his head no and gets closer.

“I figured I’d be the designated driver to take you home tonight,” he says with his breath hitting your ear. The alcohol already going straight to your head makes the room spin and gives you confidence.

“Usually I only take guys home after the third date,” You joke, instantly regretting it. He laughs it off and says that you need more water instead of a drink. Even though you’re tipsy you remember that this crush is going to hurt you regardless of how he feels.

I want to make you drive all night just because I said maybe you should come over

I want to make you fall in love as hard as my poor parents' teenage daughter

At the end of the night, Quinn keeps his promise as he ushers you into his car. You’re giggling as he pulls you towards safety and you say goodnight to all of the team.

“Goodnight Pettyyyyy,” you slur and yell as you get further from him. He just waves and chuckles.

“Get her home safe Huggy,” Elias shouts back drunkenly.

“Will do. See you tomorrow,” Quinn says finally getting you in the car.

“You know my dad used to drive my mom back from bars back in the day,” you say once he starts driving as you stare out the window.

“Oh yeah?” Quinn chuckles at your drunken state.

You feel so grateful that he decided to take you home. You hate taking Uber, especially after drinking. You take note that the bar is nowhere close to your apartment and his place is on the other side of town. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to do, but he did it without you even having to ask. Maybe your unrequited love isn’t so unrequited and you fall asleep in your bed hopeful for what the next day could contain.

She'll be the best you ever had if you let her

The next morning was rough to get out of bed, but get excited when memories of Quinn going out of his way to bring you home come back to you. You get ready and go to the coffee shop you always stop at with a pep in your step.

Once you get to the arena you go straight to the locker room as usual except you stop right outside of the door when you hear Elias and Quinn talking.

“So you and Y/N,” Elias said with a suggestive and teasing tone.

“Nothing happened between us. She’s sweet and all, but I’m not into her that way,” He says quickly. Your heart shattered and you turned around to leave before you could be caught.

You drop your things off at your desk and run to the restroom to let out a good cry. After a minute or two you compose yourself before going back to your desk and delivering the coffee like nothing happened.

You hand Quinn's coffee and he thanks you with his usual stupid smile like he didn’t say anything ten minutes ago. You give Elias his coffee and leave the locker room without saying a word. Little did you know, Elias followed you out and caught up to you in the hallway.

“You heard him didn’t you?” He asks you with sad eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s ok I knew this would happen. I’ll be ok. It’s just going to be awkward on the plane because we always sit together for roadies,” you say with a sigh.

“Sit with me,” Elias says simply and you just look at him perplexed. “I’ll just say I wanted my own movie night with you.” You nod and tell Elias you have to go for your meeting before you all leave.

I know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You walk into the plane after your meeting and you finalize some posts to be uploaded while you’re flying. You see Quinn watching you expectantly for you to take your unassigned seat next to him. However, You miss the surprised and sad gaze he has after you walk past him to sit with Elias.

Elias always sits near the back of the plane, and Quinn knows you hate sitting so far back. He hears you and Elias pick a movie to watch during the flight and he gets jealous. It’s small but Quinn always wanted to do that on flights with you, but you always were more interested in reading or sleeping.

“Do you want to watch 27 Dresses? Isn’t that your favorite?” Quinn hears Elias ask you and Quinn scoffs. He knew even before you came over to watch a movie that 13 going on 30 was your favorite move. That’s why he watched it before he invited you over so he’d have good commentary for your movie night.

You grab Elias’ hand as the plane lifts and apologize and say it’s muscle memory. You always get nervous on planes but Quinn always calms you down. You and Elias have fun for the rest of the flight. Watching movies even though it was something you wanted to do with Quinn. But you know getting over your crush is for the better. You and Quinn wouldn’t have worked out anyway.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

The next day you wake up in your hotel room after letting yourself sleep in a little bit. Even on road trips, you would make a point of getting Quinn’s coffee. But you decided now that you know he doesn’t feel the same, so you didn’t see the point in doing it anymore. You come down from your hotel room and see Quinn in the lobby.

“Oh hey, I was just going to wait for you to come back from getting coffee for everyone,” Quinn says sheepishly.

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to set an alarm and overslept. I can’t go today because I have to go meet the Blue’s social team before the game to go over rules for the game,” You say with little emotion.

“Oh ok, that makes sense. I guess I just see you at the arena,” Quinn says sadly.

“See you there!” You say with a smile leaving the lobby. This was the first time you felt like you could maybe get over Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

The team returns from a successful road trip and you feel energized, which rarely happens after traveling for two weeks straight. You and Elias became good friends over the trip and now realize there is a lot more to your work than just Quinn.

After your meeting, you and Megan are talking about your plans as you settle back into Vancouver.

“You should let me set you up,” Megan blurts out, cutting off your list of chores.

“What? Who would it even be?” You’re intrigued where she’s going with this.

“My friend Evan just got out of a relationship a couple of months ago. I feel like you guys would really get along. Plus it could be good for-”

“You know what I’m in. Can you send me his number or something?” You decided you were ready to move on.

“Yes! I’ll send it right now. I'm so excited.”

You go to the ice to get ready for some practice content. Quinn is out first and gives you a weak smile. You feel a mixture of butterflies and your heart clenches. You missed Quinn. You haven’t had a full conversation with him since you all went out. Even though you’re trying to convince yourself to, you don’t know if you’ll be able to move on from Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

Your date with Evan is today and you’re excited. You feel giddy all day thinking about the prospect of dating again. Your boss lets you go home early because you’ve finished your content and are ahead of schedule. As you walk out to your car you see the team going back to the locker room from practice.

“Hey Y/N are you coming out with us tonight? It’s nothing crazy we just wanted to go out to celebrate the road trip,” Brock asks

“I would love to, but I actually have a date tonight,” You say with a grin and blush on your face.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

There’s a couple of wolf whistles from the team when you tell them your plans. Quinn’s heart drops at the idea of you going out with someone else. He knew you guys hadn't talked a lot during the trip, but he just figured it was because you were busy with work or tired. He didn’t think it was because you started talking to someone.

He sulks as he gets ready to go home, and can’t stop thinking about who your date could be with and what you’re doing. He knows you look great no matter what you wear, but the idea of you dressing up for some other guy makes him uneasy.

Quinn gets home and thinks about texting you, but what would he even say? “Good luck on your date hope you have fun” when he prays it goes badly so he has a shot again? He thinks about texting you to not go on the date, but knows it’s not his place and you might not feel the same way.

Instead he texts Elias if he wants to hang out. Elias comes over and immediately notices his sour mood.

“What’s got you so down?”

“Nothing I guess I’m just in my head,” Quinn says.

“Is it about Y/N? I thought you said you don’t have feelings for her,” Elias says as a joke knowing Quinn would never admit it out loud.

“I didn’t think I did, but I’ve really missed her over the last couple of weeks and it made me think about her a lot. I just don’t know what to do,” Quinn says with his head in his hands. Elias is shocked at his revelation and doesn’t know what to say.

“I doubt the date is going to be that great. Tell her how you feel after,” Elias says and Quinn just nods his head.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You get ready for your date and get even more excited as it gets closer to your date. You know it might not go anywhere with Evan, but you’re just proud of yourself for trying to move on from Quinn.

You go to meet Evan at a restaurant downtown, and give him a hug when you see him. You quickly notice he’s the complete opposite of Quinn; he has brown eyes instead of Quinn’s blue eyes. Evan’s hair is light brown and barely has a wave vs Quinn’s dark brown curls.

You quickly take note that Evan is more talkative and has a bigger personality than Quinn. He doesn’t seem to like silence and is always asking you more questions about yourself even as you try to look over the menu. Then you realize that if you truly want to get over Quinn, you’ve to stop comparing Evan to him.

That's when you guys hit it off. You realize he’s really funny and also understands your humor. You both have a lot in common too. You can’t stop smiling throughout the rest of the night.

Know it’s for the better

After your dinner you both don’t want the date to be over just yet so you decide to take a walk down the street to continue your conversation. You have no idea how long you guys have been together, but haven’t gotten bored of each other for the night.

You stumble across an ice cream shop, and both note how much you love ice cream. And even though it’s freezing outside you both decide to get some to end the night. After you finish you both decide to call it a night and He walks you back to your car.

Know It’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

“I hate to say it this way, but I didn’t think I could have this much fun on a date,” Evan says looking down at you.

“No me too, but I had an amazing time.”

“Do you want to go out again soon? I don’t know what your schedule looks like, but-” Evan rambles on and you decide to cut him off.

“I would love to. I’ll let you know when I’m free,” You say with a smile.

You get in the car and can wipe the grin off of your face as you drive home. You get ready for bed and almost want to text Elias, but know he’s with the team and didn’t want to interrupt their fun.

Know it's for the better

I never grew up with you

And you’re not my waiting room

The next day you go into the office with your smile still wide. You see Megan in the parking lot and walk in together telling her about your date.

“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too” Megan squeals and tells you she’s so excited for you.

Little did you know that Quinn was nearby and heard everything. You spot him not thinking much about it and he gives you a small smile. You realize that your life will continue on after your crush on Quinn and you’re ok with that.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x y/n #nhl #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks fic #Spotify

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