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#v: shattered mirror
risenwings · 5 months
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Sometimes, when his trinemates are busy; when all is quiet, here on their new, safe, world, and he knows Thundercracker and Skywarp are occupied with one another, or someone else, or any one of a myriad of projects that require their experience over his...
Starscream drifts, letting his pedes carry him where they will, only pausing here and there to take in some sight, or exchange fleeting greetings with passing Decepticons. This is their world now. They are safe.
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iniziare · 1 month
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Tag drop: Jingliu
#tag drop#jingliu. [ and so i wield my blade to the very end. until the “stars” have been cut down from the sky. this oath: i will never forsake. ]#jingliu: ic. [ trapped in childhood nightmares; she tore off a spread of black silk from the edge of her skirt and covered her eyes. ]#jingliu: inquiries. [ ice waves as sharp as knives spreading like transient flowers in the air. freezing all and everyone they contact. ]#jingliu: countenance. [ when you live to be a thousand years. each day is carrying the weight of a mountain through an interminable maze. ]#jingliu: introspection. [ why do you wield a sword? / this is like asking a poet why they wrote poems. this is the only way for me. ]#jingliu: meta. [ this sword in my hand... naught but a needle compared with the heavenly bodies. how can i use it to cut open a star? ]#jingliu: little notes. [ this is the first time she understands “wanting to live”. before now; she was simply someone ready to die. ]#jingliu: wishes. [ unsheathing this sword without merit is to blaspheme the divine will of the reignbow arbiter; and invite calamity. ]#jingliu: etc. [ to the xianzhou; i am but an abandoned pawn: a wandering swordmaster. ]#jingliu: the sword. [ if a day comes that the quivers run empty; and starskiffs crash who will protect you and i then; or the xianzhou? ]#jingliu: florephemeral sword. [ a sword: 3 feet; 7 inches in length. weighing nothing. and it glowed as if a sliver of moonlight. ]#jingliu: shattered sword. [ a sword: 5 feet in length. weighing 3000 catties. unyielding: mirroring the defiance; hubris of its creator. ]#jingliu: cangchang. [ when devoured; we had to face the truth that our lives were but a grain of sand in the river of time. ]#jingliu: hcq. [ their faces still linger before my eyes like a bygone dream. yet dream will eventually fade. like clouds from the sky. ]#jingliu: memories. [ given the choice between staring at the abyss with a troubled mind and marching blindly: i choose the latter. ]#jingliu: jing yuan. [ in an endless night; there is nothing closer than the bright moon. always hanging in the sky. ]#jingliu: imbibitor lunae. [ even after your rebirth. your techniques haven't changed. / when i move it's like… / … like you never forgot. ]#jingliu: baiheng. [ the things that we said and did together have all been shrouded in a layer of mist. a mist i cannot see through. ]#jingliu: yingxing. [ some are born with unparalleled foresight; intelligence; but make the ill-advised choices at destiny's crossroads. ]#jingliu: blade. [ that broken sword... you don't want to let go of the past. do you; blade? ]#jingliu: yanqing. [ that move was a token of my appreciation; young man. we were fated to meet this day and in days to come. ]#jingliu: v. youth. [ you can use this to vanquish those that took everything from us. ]#jingliu: v. sword champion. [ she knows it all. swords are a part of her body: the intake and release of her breath as she walks. ]#jingliu: v. traitor. [ and i will suffer my eternal punishment. that is the only way to keep the memory of the pain from fading away. ]
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tboybuck · 1 year
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on the one hand i dont owe it to anybody to define or explain my gender identity on the other hand i do fucking owe it to myself
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bardsandchangelings · 2 months
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Emilia was bored in town, she was sent on such a mundane task. Just get Elwin’s sword repaired. She didn’t expect to have to wait a few hours. She was specifically told not to cause any trouble or raise suspicion.
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Emilia looked to the town clock, surely three hours are almost over right? …. 15 minutes?! She groaned annoyed laying her face on the table. “Why did I have to get such a boring task..”
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parfaitblogs · 4 days
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fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader
in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you. 
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni) tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end.  word count: 5.7k a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!
Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be. 
Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all. 
Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.
You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not. 
However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide. 
And then he was free. 
From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished. 
But he was free.
And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened. 
Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break. 
"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.
"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."
"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.
Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met. 
"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again. 
"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"
"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit. 
"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"
"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"
"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."
"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."
To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was. 
Right now, you learned you wouldn't be. 
There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry. 
Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming. 
"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened. 
"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"
Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."
"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."
"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped. 
"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."
"Oh."
Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.
"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."
"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."
"I think I want to."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."
"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."
"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed. 
"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."
"Do you want to hurt me?"
"No."
"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."
"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."
"Not funny."
"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again. 
"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more. 
"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."
"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him. 
"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"
You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more. 
You couldn't complain. 
It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch. 
"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body. 
"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later. 
"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind. 
"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you. 
"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin. 
"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered. 
"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."
"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."
"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.
You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.
Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously. 
"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.
"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face. 
"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."
"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up. 
"Nope. Forget I said anything."
"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."
"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away. 
"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."
"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."
"Yes, but how?" 
"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."
"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again. 
"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up. 
"Lots of people say oral," he defended. 
"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."
"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head." 
Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping. 
Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."
"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping. 
"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so. 
He nipped at your nose. "It is."
"Can we compromise?" 
"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose. 
In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests. 
"Head," you corrected. "And no."
He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"
"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter. 
"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."
You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."
"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"
"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him. 
"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him. 
Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.
Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have. 
Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded. 
A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone. 
The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat. 
He liked to hear you. 
Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).
"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either. 
"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"
"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"
"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face. 
"What? Why?"
"Do I need a reason?"
You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest. 
"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"
"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."
"I know," you replied.
"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."
You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."
"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."
Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."
"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?" 
Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body. 
"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.
"Yes."
"Thank you."
His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.
"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.
You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time. 
And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make. 
Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.
Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.
Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit. 
"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin. 
"Touch myself?" 
"Mhm."
"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."
"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"
"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."
"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"
You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again. 
"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head. 
He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again. 
"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you. 
"Hm?"
Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.
"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you. 
In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could. 
So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more. 
Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it. 
"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin. 
A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.
Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't. 
Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling. 
Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome. 
"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were. 
"Please don't stop."
"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to. 
Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating. 
His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered. 
The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after. 
His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after. 
"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck. 
"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter. 
"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again. 
"Yes."
"Good."
Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there. 
"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips. 
"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"
"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking. 
A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here. 
"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more. 
"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move. 
"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move). 
His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second. 
A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled. 
"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."
"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little. 
Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."
"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."
"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again. 
A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).
Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure. 
"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were. 
"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"
"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."
"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."
Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots. 
Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever. 
His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that. 
There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever. 
"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly. 
"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"
"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared. 
"Good."
"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely. 
"Help?"
Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone. 
Thankfully, you didn't have to. 
He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee. 
"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub. 
"Do you want me to?"
Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."
He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt. 
"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless. 
You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways. 
"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach. 
Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh. 
"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression. 
"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."
You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"
"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."
"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face. 
"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."
"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."
"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."
"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."
"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."
Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort. 
"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes. 
"Okay."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
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ohproserpine · 8 months
Text
v. deer dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, heavy warning for violence and bloof, graphic descriptions of injuries, manipulation, allusion to death, grey morality, references to alcoholism, twisted view of love, gorey descriptions of love, murder
"THAT SLAG!"
Velvette's piercing scream echoed through the meeting room, slicing through the air. Vox and Valentino jolted, turning their gazes toward the source of the disturbance.
"Good-for-nothing piece of shit twat assistant!" Velvette paced the room, her movements agitated and frantic as she angrily tapped away on her phone.
In a sudden surge of anger, she flung her device across the room, sending it flying above Valentino's head. A crash punctuated the air as it collided with a window, the impact shattering the glass into shards that rained down onto the floor.
"Velvette, darling," Vox raised an eyebrow, his voice calm as always, "What's got you so worked up?"
He took a sip of his coffee, the rich aroma wafting up from the steaming cup as he idly scrolled through his laptop. "Is it that showgirl situation again?"
"Oh, bloody hell!" Velvette rolled her eyes. "Of course, it is, you git! It's been literally the ONLY thing I've been banging on about this week!"
Valentino's sigh cut through the conversation as he adjusted his sunglasses. Holding his glittering firearm up to his face, he pressed rhinestones on it with tacky glue, unfazed by Velvette's anger.
"It's just some performer, babydoll. We can find a replacement."
"Are you out of your mind?!" Velvette seethed as she stormed toward them, her heels clicking loudly with each step. With a forceful slam of her hands against the table, it shifted forward, jolting the items on its surface. With a hiss of pain, Vox recoiled, his hand jerking back from the scalding coffee he had spilled on himself.
"The boutique opening is in three days! How on earth am I supposed to find a girl who's got the looks and a set of pipes in time?!" she exclaimed.
Valentino looked up from his bedazzling, a raised eyebrow visible above the rim of his sunglasses. "Have you tried one of my models? I got a lot of pretty little chicas who can charm the socks off anyone. No need to stress yourself out."
"Your models? Do you have any idea how much time and effort it's going to take for me to wrangle those little amateurs into something remotely resembling a professional performance?" Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Sod off!"
Valentino snarled in response but turned away with a huff, muttering under his breath, "Have it your way."
"If I may," Vox spoke, wiping his hand with a grumble, the sting of the burn still lingering. He tilted his head slightly, raising a single brow. "Have you tried scouting?"
"Have I tried scouting?" Velvette mocked, her hands waving around in frustration. "Of course I have! All I've come across are bloody singers around here, and they all look like they've been dragged through the dirt backwards!"
"Well, have you tried the back district?" he offered, tapping his claws on the long glass table. He watched as Velvette pulled out a pocket mirror from her purse, visibly cringing at his suggestion.
"Why in bloody hell would I go there?" Velvette grimaced as she re-applied her dark lipstick. "I'm not about to waste my time scouring the back district for some dime-a-dozen talent. I need someone who's got class, not gutter scraps."
"Well, there's this performer," Vox insisted, snapping his fingers. A screen materialized with a whiz, displaying a video of a figure in a sparkly silver dress singing and dancing. As the video drew to a close, the camera zoomed in, capturing a close-up of the woman's face. Her features were radiant, a smile gracing her lips as she gazed out at the audience.
Velvette snapped her mirror shut with a flick of her wrist, interest sparking in her eyes. She leaned in closer, studying the performer's features.
"Who's this?" she quipped.
"Dolly, at least that's what they call her," Vox hummed, sliding the screen over to Velvette. "She works at Mimzy's Lounge."
Velvette's expression darkened, strands of hair falling over her eyes as she took the screen in her hands, leaning down to view the image again. The glow of the projection illuminated her face, casting shadows that danced across her steely expression.
"Mimzy?" she uttered the name slowly, her lips dripping with venom. "That's the cunt who tore up my best showgirl!"
"Drama," Valentino chuckled, spinning his bedazzled gun around his fingers.
"Well, this Dolly girl is her biggest star, and she's been making quite a name for herself there," Vox drawled, gesturing toward the screen. With a tap of his claw on the screen, he zoomed in closer. "She's got the looks, the voice, and the stage presence you're looking for."
"And she's managed to shine even in the shadow of that cesspool," he added with a sardonic grin as he sipped from his coffee.
A flicker ignited in Velvette's eyes as she straightened. "Then it's settled. I'll pay her a visit."
"Sounds like you've got a plan brewing, my dear. Care for some company?" Vox spoke with a smirk playing on his lips.
Velvette shot him a knowing glance before a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. "Why not? I could use some of your charm."
.
"Cher? Dearest? It's time to get up," the radio atop your bedside table rumbled, your husband's voice crackling through the air.
Grunting in protest, you burrowed deeper into the warmth of your blankets, seeking refuge from the harsh bite of the morning. But Alastor's persistent calls refused to be ignored.
"Mon cœur? Cher? W̷A̴K̶E̴ ̶U̸P̷!̶" it blared, the words amplified by hissing static, demanding attention like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly peeled yourself away from the cocoon of comfort that had enveloped you. Sitting up, you felt the blanket slip from your shoulders, pooling around your hips. Memories of last night flooded in, and the remnants of Alastor's romantic gesture still adorned your room. The bouquet sat atop your dresser, with scattered white roses delicately strewn across your bed like whispers of affection.
Despite the tender atmosphere, a throbbing headache reminded you of an unwelcome guest that accompanied you into the morning—the hangover.
Dragging yourself to the side, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. Then, pushing yourself to your feet, you padded across the room, the cool floorboards sending a shiver through your bare skin. You picked up the radio, its incessant blare akin to an annoying alarm clock, with Alastor's voice still grating on your nerves.
"Alright. Alright. I'm up, love," you grumbled, rubbing at your eyes which still felt thick with sleep.
The radio rumbled with delight at your response.
"Hellish morning to you, my dear!" Alastor's voice boomed through the speakers, his jovial tone slicing through the early morning gloom. Despite your grogginess, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sound of his voice.
"Hellish morning to you too, darling," you returned, laced with affection.
"I trust you had a restful sleep?" Alastor questioned.
"As restful as one can get with a noisy radio blaring in their ear," you sighed, already feeling the weight of the day bearing down on you.
"Hah!" Alastor laughed, the sound making you roll your eyes. "But where ever would you be without my dulcet tones to serenade you awake?"
"Probably catching a few more precious minutes of sleep," you muttered, already regretting the start of another day. “You are insufferable, you know that?”
"Ah, but that's why you love me."
Back in his hotel room, Alastor chuckled to himself as he shrugged on his suit jacket. From his microphone, he caught the rustling of your clothes, followed by the gentle rush of running water.
With a flick of his wrist, Alastor summoned a gramophone, its boxy form materializing atop his dresser with a soft thud. Soon enough, the needle gently descended onto the spinning vinyl record, releasing a soft, nostalgic melody that filled the room.
I'll never smile again Until I smile at you I'll never laugh again What good would it do?
As Alastor began to sing along, his smooth voice seeping through the rusting speakers of the radio, you paused in the middle of washing your hair, caught off guard by the unexpected serenade.
"Stupid, stupid man," you muttered under your breath with a shake of your head. And yet, despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, warmth creeping into your heart.
For tears would fill my eyes My heart would realize That our romance is through
Exiting the bath, you toweled yourself off and approached your wardrobe, humming softly as you selected your attire for the day. After scanning through the hangers, you settled on a vibrant red hooverette dress. With matching stockings and white heels, you completed the look, the final touch being a few roses plucked from the bouquet Alastor had given you, tucked behind your ear.
I'll never love again I'm so in love with you I'll never thrill again To somebody new
Dressed and ready to face the day, you returned to the radio, the soft strains of music and Alastor's voice still lingering in the air. As the final notes faded into silence, you stood for a moment, savoring the fleeting illusion of domestic bliss for a moment longer.
With a pang of sadness, you glanced at the clock, realizing that it was time to go.
"I have to head out now, darling," you spoke into the radio, feeling a tug at your heartstrings. "My shift starts in a while."
"Ah, until we meet again, mon cher," Alastor's voice replied warmly. "Do take care of yourself."
In response, you leaned down to press a kiss against the speakers, a gesture of your affection. The soft sound of the kiss was barely audible, but Alastor's ears perked up and caught the gentle touch against the metal surface. He chuckled softly, then, with a soft click, the radio fell silent.
As you slipped your purse over your shoulder, a thought crossed your mind—should you bring the radio along? The temptation to have Alastor's voice with you throughout the day was strong, but the risk of further damaging the precious device gave you pause. With a sigh, you decided against it, opting to leave it safely in your room, where it would patiently await your return.
Heading out of your room, the lounge was already buzzing with the hustle and bustle of customers and staff. Although no singer graced the stage yet, the speakers blasted with the familiar tunes of Hell’s Top 10 Hits.
"There you are!" Mimzy's voice cut through the lively atmosphere, her smile failing to reach her eyes as she bounded towards you.
"Mimzy," you greeted flatly, acknowledging her with a nod.
"How are ya doin', doll? Just the person I was looking for," she purred with a bat of her eyes. "Alright, listen, I've got a marvelous idea for a performance."
You sighed inwardly, bracing yourself for whatever scheme she had cooked up this time. Mimzy's requests were as extravagant as they were challenging, always pushing the boundaries to maintain her club's "reputation" and squeeze every last dime from these sinners' wallets.
"Let's hear it," you replied, mustering a polite smile.
"So, I was thinking," Mimzy began, tapping her finger along her chin, "how about a duet? A throwback to the good ole days, sharing the spotlight. It's bound to be a performance these wayward fools are going to talk about for ages!"
You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the relatively tame suggestion. The blonde wasn't exactly known for her subtlety or restraint when it came to showmanship. At most, a duet with Mimzy was sure to be a spectacle, for better or for worse.
"And when is this going to be held?" you grinned tensely, hands at your hips. There was bound to be a switch somewhere.
"When else? Prime time tonight!" Mimzy giggled as she threw up her hands with a flourish.
And there it was.
"Tonight?" Your eyes widened, shoulders squaring in shock. "Miss Ma'am, that's cutting it a bit close, don't you think?"
"Bushwa! We'll make it work," Mimzy replied dismissively, waving off your concerns with a flick of her hand. "And I've already got the perfect song in mind. It'll be a real humdinger, mark my words."
"Alright," you sighed, hoping for the best but bracing yourself for the chaos that was sure to follow. "Tonight it is."
"That's the spirit! Hell, why don't you take the morning off?" Mimzy grinned as she hurried off down the hallway to make preparations. "I'll see you tonight! Make sure to be here by sunset!"
Standing by the stairs as stiff as a pole, you watched her skip off with an unusually chipper air. It struck you as odd, but you pushed the thought aside, eager to have the morning to yourself. As you turned away, however, your head throbbed once more, the reminder of your hangover cutting through the moment.
"Looks like a ciggy is in order," you muttered to yourself, rubbing at your throbbing temples. Making your way outside, hoping to smoke away the edge of discomfort.
Trudging along the filthy backstreets, you did your best to avoid the muck and other questionable liquids that lined the roadside. The stench of decay hung heavy in the air, assaulting your senses with each step you took.
No one spared you a glance as you passed; the citizens of hell were absorbed in their own pursuits or concerns, and you blended into the backdrop of the grim landscape. 
Finally reaching a clearer stretch of street, you took a seat on one of the benches, the worn wood groaning under your weight. The city bustled around you, a mix of sounds and movements that seemed to blur together.
With a weary sigh, you reached into your bag in search of company—nicotine.
Fingers fumbling through the contents of your purse, you felt the familiar shape of the roll, and with a hum, pulled it out. However, as you continued to rummage through your belongings, a sinking realization settled in.
Your matchbox wasn't there.
Dropping your head into your hands with a scowl, you could feel the stress mounting within you, bubbling up like a simmering pot ready to boil over.
Wallowing in your misfortune, you failed to notice someone approaching you from behind. A sudden tap on your shoulder jolted you, and as you turned, you found yourself face to face with a tall and slender spider-like demon. His frame was practically drowning in a plush white fur coat, the color almost blending into his skin. It contrasted sharply with the sleekness of the black bodycon dress clinging onto his curves underneath.
"Need a light?" he asked casually as he held up a pink-colored lighter.
You eyed him skeptically for a moment.
In hell, kindness often came with a price. Whether it was a favor owed, a debt to be repaid, or simply a hidden agenda waiting to be revealed, nothing came for free. However, when your head throbbed again, you sighed and relented with a nod, accepting the offer despite your reservations.
Angel Dust ignited the lighter, the flame pirouetting gracefully and flickering in the wind. Drawing closer, you leaned in, offering the tip of your cigarette to the flame. With a gentle hiss, the tobacco caught fire, wisps of smoke curling into the air like ethereal dancers. As you took a deep, shaky inhale, the saccharine poison of the smoke flooded your lungs, leaving a bittersweet taste lingering on your tongue. Shutting your eyes, a sense of calm washed over you as you leaned back, letting yourself be carried away by the fleeting tranquility of the moment.
Remembering you had company, you grounded yourself and opened your eyes. "Thank you ever so much, dear. Can I have your name?" you asked, tilting your head up at him. The stranger moved to sit down next to you, the worn wood of the bench creaking under his weight.
"Angel Dust," he said, and your eyes shot wide open, lips forming an 'O' shape.
"The porn star?" you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
"Didn't take you as the type to watch my shit, toots," Angel laughed heartily as his grin widened from ear to ear in response, his golden tooth gleaming at you like a wink.
"Well, I may not be your typical fan, but your name does tend to make its rounds in conversation," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. Taking a drag from your cigarette, you gestured with it casually. "I saw you in my husb—erm, the Radio Demon's commercial. Hazbin Hotel, was it?"
"Yeah, and don't worry, I know. Dolly, was it?" Angel Dust replied smoothly, his demeanor surprisingly nonchalant given the situation. Extending his hand for you to shake, he continued, "Nice to finally put a face to the name."
His confession caught you off guard, but you shook his hand firmly nonetheless. "How did you—did Alastor tell you about me? You two must be close."
Angel Dust hesitated, a grimace crossing his features. His crimson eyes darted away briefly, as if weighing his words carefully.
"Let's just say... word gets around in our circles," he replied vaguely, tugging his coat closer around himself.
"I don't know him that well, though," Angel Dust admitted with a shrug, his gaze drifting off momentarily. "Sometimes he can be a bit..."
"A pompous dick with a sadistic streak?" you suggested, exhaling smoke as you raised an eyebrow at Angel Dust, testing the waters.
Angel Dust laughed genuinely, throwing his head back. "Something along those lines, toots," he grinned, taking another drag of his cigarette.
"Well, it's good to know I'm not the only one who sees it," you remarked, a wry smile playing on your lips.
"Believe me, ya ain't alone in that," he agreed. "So, ah—What brings ya out here? Aside from the obvious need for a blow."
"Just needed some fresh air," you admitted with a shrug. "Plus, I may have indulged a bit too much last night and woke up feeling like death warmed over."
"I hear ya," Angel Dust replied, nodding sympathetically as he raked his eyes over your worn-out form, noting the slump of your body and the dark circles under your eyes. You looked so different from the sparkly performer he had seen on stage days ago.
"Hey, I actually caught one of ya shows the other night," he piped up, attempting to shift the conversation to a lighter topic.
"Did you?" you cooed, surprise evident in your voice.
"Yeah," Angel nodded, stretching out on the bench, spreading both his arms across the back of the wood. "Gotta say, ya put on quite the show up there. I mean—ya had the crowd eating out of the palm of ya hand."
A faint smile crept onto your cheeks at his praise, a swell of pride rising within you.
"Well, thank you," you bowed your head in gratitude, momentarily forgetting your fatigue in the warmth of his words. "It means a lot coming from someone like you."
Angel Dust waved off your thanks with a casual flick of his hand, lips jutting out in a playful pout.
"Ah, c'mon. I call it like I see it," he grinned with a shrug. "N'trust me, I've seen my fair share of performances."
Lost in the easy flow of conversation, you surrendered to the comfort of the moment, finding solace in the presence of your spider companion. Hours passed, and before you knew it, the sun dipped below the horizon,  painting the park in hues of golden warmth.
A jarring ringtone shattered the moment, causing Angel Dust to glance down at his phone with a whistle. His brows furrowed as he scrolled through a flurry of notifications, irritation flashing across his features.
"As much as I'm enjoying our little chat, duty calls," he sighed, flicking away ash from his cigarette. "Can't keep the boss waiting."
You nodded in understanding, offering a wave as he rose from the bench. "No worries, Angel. Catch you later."
"Looking forward to it, dollface," he replied with a wink before sauntering off into the city streets, leaving you to enjoy the peace alone. After a few minutes of watching the sunset, you decided it was time to go. You stubbed out your cigarette and rose from the bench, making your way out.
As you approached the streets leading to the lounge, the neon lights of the city burst into life, casting vibrant reflections on the pavement. Climbing the stairs to the entrance, you were enveloped by the familiar sights and sounds of the establishment. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and cigarette smoke, mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music from within.
Mimzy was nowhere to be seen, which came as a welcome relief. And with a last scan to ensure she wasn't lurking anywhere nearby, you made a beeline straight to your dressing room, eager to ready yourself for tonight's performance in peace without a certain blonde talking your ear off.
Taking a seat at the vanity, you began to prepare for the evening ahead, carefully applying your makeup and fixing your hair into place.
A sudden knock broke your routine, prompting you to rise from your seat and stride over to the door. With a quick twist of the knob, you swung it open, revealing an imp demon. White blotches adorned his skin, and he sported sunglasses perched high up on his nose. In his hands, he held up a box, his expression expectant as he waited for your reaction.
"May I help you?" you murmured, tilting your head at him, curiosity coloring your tone.
"Yeah. Are you Dolly?" the imp asked, his tone curt and impatient.
"Yes?" you replied, a brow raised.
"Great. This is for you, lady," he said, thrusting the box of jewelry toward you. "If you could just sign here so I can get the hell out of this shithole, that'd be great."
You accepted the box from the imp demon's outstretched hand, eyeing him warily as he thrust a pen and clipboard in your direction. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly took the pen and scrawled your signature on the dotted line, handing the clipboard back to him with a curt nod.
"Thanks," he muttered, barely sparing you a glance as he turned on his heel and hurried away, disappearing into the crowded hallway of the club.
Interest piqued, you turned your attention back to the box in your hands. With a gentle touch, you ran your fingers along the surface and lifted the lid of the box. Nestled amidst folds of satin lay a pearl necklace, the orbs gleaming as if moonlight itself was captured and trapped within. At its heart, a rose pendant bloomed, its petals of silver. 
Taken aback, you reached for the small card tucked within the box. Gently retrieving, you turned it around to see the words "From Al" penned gracefully in elegant script.
"Oh, you cheese…"
With a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you delicately lifted the necklace from its satin-lined cocoon, feeling the cool weight of the pearls in your palm. As you draped it around your neck, the pendant nestled against your collarbone.
Feeling as giddy as a teenager in love, you turned away from the vanity, your heart fluttering with excitement. With a skip in your step, you crossed the room to the wardrobe, fingers dancing over the array of neatly hung dresses.
Before your fingers could grasp onto a dress, a sudden deafening explosion tore through the air. The sound was thunderous, shaking the walls and causing the ground beneath your feet to tremble violently. The shockwave slammed into you with palpable force, knocking you off balance and sending you crashing to the floor amidst a cloud of dust and debris.
Alarm flashed across your features as your heart pounded in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through your veins like a raging river. With trembling hands, you pushed yourself up from the ground.
What in hell was that?
Staggering to your feet, you ran out into the lounge. As the dust settled, you could see the entrance of the lounge now reduced to a gaping maw, the doors blown open by the force of the explosion. The familiar sights and sounds of the club were replaced by a scene of utter devastation, with debris strewn haphazardly across the floor and smoke billowing out into the night air.
Two ominous figures cast dark shadows amidst the panicked frenzy of staff and customers.
Struggling to discern the figures amidst the chaos, you squinted, trying to make out the details. One of them was a slender demon, dressed immaculately, with cedar-brown skin and long, fiery red curls tied into neat pigtails.
A sinking feeling settled in your chest as you recognized her as one of Hell's infamous overlords. Your heart plummeted further as you caught sight of Mimzy, ensnared in Velvette's vice-like grip, fear twisting her features as she struggled against her captor.
But it was the presence of the figure behind Velvette that truly sent a shiver down your spine.
The TV Demon, Vox.
His gaze swept over the room with a detached coldness, as if the pandemonium were of little consequence. Suddenly, his icy eyes locked onto yours, freezing you in place.
"Mimzy, dear," Vox's voice buzzed with deceptive sweetness as he addressed the shaking blonde. "Why don't you go and have a little chat with your esteemed employee about our... conditions?"
Wide-eyed with fear, Mimzy frantically nodded, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.
"Make it quick," Velvette scoffed, releasing her grip on Mimzy's throat. The blonde stumbled toward you, her movements shaky and unsteady.
"What is—" you started, but Mimzy cut you off, panic evident as she began to drag you backstage. Without a moment's hesitation, she pushed you into your dressing room, swiftly locking the door behind you.
"Mimzy, what in hell is going on out there?" you demanded, leaning down to her height and shaking her by the arms.
Mimzy's breaths came in ragged gasps as she leaned against the door, her eyes wide with terror. She struggled to find her words, her entire figure trembling as she tried to compose herself.
"It's Velvette," she finally managed to choke out.
"Why is she here? What does she want from us?" you pressed, urgency creeping into your tone as you searched Mimzy's face for answers. But her response only added to your unease.
"You need to go with them," Mimzy decided abruptly.
"Go with who? What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice turning breathless with disbelief.
"She's out for payback, see? And she won't stop until she gets it," Mimzy explained, her tone grave yet determined, like she had some ace up her sleeve. "I gotta level the playing field, doll. She wants a replacement, and she's chosen you."
"I can't just go along with this!" your voice rose to a shout as you began to shake her again, nails digging into the chiffon of her glove. "My contract with you ends in a year. If I go with them, I'll be their pawn for all of eternity!"
"I can't just risk Velvette destroying everything I've built!" Mimzy defended herself, her tone devoid of remorse. "Do you have any idea how much work it took for me to get this place running?!"
Anger surged within you, fueled by betrayal and fear. "What about me? What about Alastor?"
"Oh, him again!" Mimzy shook her arms away from your grip and pushed herself off the door. "You've been so obsessed with that radio fool, you've forgotten who's been with you since the very start! Ever since you got hitched to him, you stopped caring about a damn thing!"
"I cared! And I still bloody well care, Mimzy!" you shot back, your voice rising with anger. Your eyes blazed with fire, cracks beginning to form on your face as your demon form threatened to break free. "But you were an empty, hollow shell of a woman with naught in her head but money! You'd sell out anyone, even me, to get what you want!"
Mimzy recoiled slightly, her façade momentarily cracked by your words. "You-You think you're any better? Running off with your precious Alastor, pretending like he's the savior of your life. But I know you've heard his broadcasts. I know you've seen the news. He's no better than me, playing you like a puppet while hiding behind his façade of being a good man!"
Enraged, you lunged forward, tackling her against the wall. As fury consumed you, your form contorted and twisted, taking on a monstrous semblance. Your features morphed, sharpening into angular lines, while cracks spiderwebbed across your skin like shattered porcelain. Limbs stretched and warped, turning jagged and broken, resembling the joints of a marionette. Teeth elongated into razor-sharp fangs, and as you bared them in a snarl, your lips curled back in a grotesque mockery of a mouth. "Say that again! I fucking dare you!"
"I'll say it as many times as I damn well please!" Mimzy spat, her voice trembling as she locked eyes with your hollow gaze. "Until you get it through your fucking thick, cracked skull!"
The blonde's hand darted to a nearby object, seizing hold of a picture frame within reach. With sudden, fierce motion, she swung it, the weighty wood and glass connecting with your transformed flesh in a sickening thud.
"Mph—!" Biting your lip to stifle a scream, you staggered backward. Thick blood dripped from the wound, pooling on the floor and mingling with the cracks in your porcelain-like skin.
"You've got some nerve!" Mimzy's voice thundered as she stood over you, her pale face flushing crimson with anger. "You wanted that fame, and I made it happen. Now you don't?! Fuck! Some ungrateful brat you are! Willing to throw it all away for some man! Do you really think what he feels for you is love?!"
As Mimzy's tirade continued, her words cutting through the haze of pain and anger, a sense of disorientation washed over you. Her words struck a nerve, stirring up memories that you had long tried to suppress.
.
Rain poured down, drenching your hunched form. The world around you blurred into a chaotic whirlwind of colors and shapes, disorienting and suffocating. 
Beneath the fabric of your dress, your knees throbbed painfully, raw from the harsh scrape against unforgiving concrete. Your hands desperately fumbled in the darkness, searching for something to anchor yourself to. Then, finally, your fingertips brushed against the familiar texture of rusting metal.
With a ragged sigh of relief, you realized you had found the gate of your house. Summoning all your remaining strength, you clasped both hands around the cold, wet metal bars and attempted to pull yourself up.
Through the haze, you felt rough hands sneak around your waist, and as your vision cleared slightly, your husband's face emerged from the blur. His once impeccable suit now clung to him like a second skin, soaked through by the downpour. Strands of his usually neat hair stuck to his forehead, dampened and dripping onto his glasses. Cursing like a sailor under his breath, he scooped you up into his arms, expression turning tense as he felt the icy chill of your body against his own.
If you weren't moving he would have thought you a corpse.
"Cher?" Alastor's voice cut through the fog in your mind, but your response was sluggish, your gaze glassy and dilated. "Merde. Did you drag yourself here all alone?"
Without waiting for an answer, he moved, cradling you in his arms as he hurried back toward your house. Once inside, he wasted no time in laying you down on the sofa.
"Al," you finally spoke, whimpering softly as you raised a shaky hand towards him. Alastor immediately moved towards you, hushing your cries as he pressed a deep kiss on your lips.
Your husband moved to cradle your face in his rough hands, and what he saw shattered whatever fragments of his heart were still intact. Bruises and dried blood stained your body, your skin clammy and pale. Streaks of mascara carved paths down your tear-stained face, and your limbs twitched involuntarily. The taste of whiskey still lingered on your lips, and the fearful haze in your eyes mirrored the terror of a rabbit cornered by a wolf.
"Who did this to you?" he growled, his pupils dilating with anger as he knelt before you, gently slipping your torn stockings and muddy heels off your feet.
"Mimzy," you sobbed out, curling into yourself, the weight of it all feeling too heavy on your shoulders.
"I tried to quit. She didn't let me. The bar. She gave me a drink. More and more. I couldn't stop. I was just so upset." Your words were fragmented, broken by the wrenching sobs that shook your fragile form, vulnerability laid bare before him.
"Mon cœur," Alastor hushed, rubbing circles into your ankle with his thumb. "Calm down. Take your time."
You made an effort, though the first few attempts were shallow and rushed. Eventually, you managed to draw in a deep breath, releasing it in a rush before taking another. And another.
"That's it, my dear. Now, what happened?"
Summoning all your strength, you opened your mouth and began to recount the harrowing events of the night.
Earlier this evening, you had mustered up enough courage to hand in your resignation letter to Mimzy. However, her reaction was far from pleasant. An argument erupted, filled with less than savory words being thrown around like daggers.
Before you knew it, Mimzy's rage boiled over, and she tackled you, raining blows upon you with a fury that bordered on madness, beating you with an inch of your life. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.
Her demeanor shifted drastically, morphing from a raging storm into a gentle breeze. With a sickening sweetness, she offered you a hand up, as if nothing had happened. Weak and disoriented, you allowed her to lead you to her private bar, where she poured drink after drink, urging you to indulge.
As per habit, you found yourself consuming the alcohol with reckless abandon, the burning liquid dulling the pain and blurring the edges of reality
Alastor's heart clenched at the anguish in your voice, his expression darkening with a mixture of concern and simmering anger. Slowly, he rose from his seat and lifted you onto his lap, cradling you gently in his arms.
Taking your hand in his, he leaned in close, his voice a soft murmur.
"Let me take care of everything, doll," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "She won't ever bother you again."
The tenderness in his voice caused your breath to hitch, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to fall into the reassurance of his presence. It offered a fleeting sense of security amidst everything surrounding you. Yet, slowly as the puzzles fell into pieces, a gnawing sense of dread clawed at your insides.
"Alastor, no," you whimpered, withdrawing your hands and pressing them against his chest, pushing him away with trembling fingers. "Please don't tell me it means what I think it does."
Your gaze pleaded with him, searching his eyes for any sign of reassurance, any glimmer of hope that what you feared was not true. However, your husband's smile remained unchanged—comforting yet chilling—as he pressed another kiss to the corner of your lips.
"I would kill for you," Alastor murmured against your skin, his thumb tracing the contours of your wedding ring. Bending down, he pressed a tender kiss against the golden band, sealing his vow with the promise of bloodshed, lips lingering against the cool metal. As he drew back, you found yourself ensnared by the intensity of his gaze, pools of brown reflecting a manic fervor.
"Please let me kill for you."
Tears blurred your vision as you bowed your head, the weight of his words sinking deep into your soul. You knew Alastor's devotion knew no bounds. Whether it meant causing pain, shedding blood, or delving into the darkest corners of his being, he would do it for you without a moment's hesitation.
A warmth trickled down your cheeks with each blink, tracing a path along your skin. Your eyes burned fiercely, tears cascading down your flushed cheeks and silently dripping from your chin like dewdrops. As you attempted to draw deep breaths, your body shook with a desperation to escape, though you couldn't quite grasp what it was you were fleeing from.
A ragged sound echoed through the room, grating against your senses. It took you a moment to register that the noise came from your own lungs, your breaths torn and jagged as they struggled to find a rhythm.
"Okay," you whispered, the weight of that single word heavy with the burden of guilt and a future tinged with blood.
There was a soft chuckle, accompanied by the gentle touch of a hand moving to caress your cheeks. "Good girl."
.
Snapping back to the present, you found yourself staring at Mimzy as she raged around the room, her fury unleashed on the surroundings, wrecking anything and everything in her path.
A man who kills for you. A man who dirties his hands for you. Is that not love?
A kick from her sent your vanity toppling over, causing bottles of your perfume and whiskey to crash from its surface. The glass shattered upon impact, releasing splintering sounds that pierced your ears. As the bottles broke, the air filled with the pungent scent of flora, mingling with the rich aroma of spilled whiskey.
It must be love.
With a hand trembling from adrenaline, you ran your fingers through your hair, the sticky feeling of blood staining your palm. Rising unsteadily to your feet, you turned to face Mimzy, strands of damp, bloodied hair falling over your cracked porcelain face.
"You ornery washed-up bitch," you rasped out in a laugh, voice breathless and laced with venom. "I should have left you to rot in that forest."
Mimzy froze, her wide eyes locked on you.
"What did you say to me?" she seethed, her voice trembling with anger as she extended her hand toward the shattered liquor glass and the spilled liquid, her fingers curling into fists.
With a flick of her wrist, the whiskey began to swirl and solidify, forming chains that snaked around your limbs, binding you in place. Your muscles tensed against the restraints as Mimzy manipulated you like a puppeteer. Slowly, you reverted back to your regular form, forced to your knees before her.
The blonde bent down, her grip firm on your face, nails digging deep into your skin as she pulled your head up to face her. "You're here because of me! Everything you've ever achieved was because of me! I made you a star, and this is how you repay me?!"
You recognized the anger in her tone, but beneath it lurked a deeper pain and desperation. The poor gal was fighting to reclaim control over a situation slipping through her grasp.
A sudden knock at the door startled Mimzy, causing her to tense. The door creaked open to reveal the imposing figure of Vox filling the doorway. As he entered the room, a wave of static filled the air, crackling and sending goosebumps cascading over your skin. His gaze swept over the scene, taking note of your restraints and bloodied head before settling on Mimzy.
"What is the meaning of this?" 
Under Vox's gaze, Mimzy's confident demeanor faltered, replaced by a nervous tremor in her voice. "I-I was just… settling some unfinished business, mistah," she stammered, attempting to regain her composure.
"You've just damaged the merchandise, sweetheart," Vox stated matter-of-factly, gesturing to you with a wave of his hand. "And we can't have that, now can we?"
With a casual snap of his fingers, the wires from the stage lights above writhed and twisted, tearing free from the ceiling with a deafening creak. They snaked through the air like serpents, wrapping around Mimzy's torso and dragging her away from you with a forceful yank.
With Mimzy taken care of, Vox then turned his attention to you.
"Dolly, was it?" he smiled, voice disarming. "I've got to say, I have always wanted to see you up close."
"You've seen me," you replied with a cold edge to your voice, slowly backing away and pressing yourself against the wall. "I'm here."
"Charmed," Vox smiled, his gaze heating as he drank you in, every detail of you like candy to his eyes. As Vox strode towards you, you instinctively curled into yourself, shrinking back deeper against the wall. He chuckled softly, noticing your reaction, and halted his advances. Instead, he took a seat on the cushion by your toppled vanity, glowing eyes locked onto you.
Pretty Dolly Heart.
Your lips were painted a vivid red, pouting slightly in a frown. Damp, glossy curls framed your face, shimmering in the light and tempting him to reach out and run his fingers through them. Rivulets of blood marred your temple, staining the delicate white flowers nestled into your hair.
The TV Demon was interested in you, and he wouldn't let go until he went home with you tonight, that much was clear.
"I have a deal in mind," Vox turned to Mimzy with a look in his eyes that screamed trouble. "Are you willing to trade your soul for hers?"
Your blood ran cold with fear.
"As Velvette and I are business partners, our souls contracts are intertwined. I'm sure there would be no issue if you signed the deal with me instead," he added with a chuckle, his eyes swirling with a dangerous allure.
Panic clawed at your insides, urging you to flee from the impending doom that loomed before you. But rooted to the spot by fear, you found yourself unable to move.
"Yes! A-Absolutely!" Mimzy's words shattered the heavy silence, her voice trembling with desperation as she nodded frantically. Her eyes remained nervously glued to the crackling electricity of the torn wires still wrapped around her, the fear in her gaze mirroring your own.
With a clap of his hands, Vox conjured a new contract and a strong burst of wind swept through the room, ruffling curtains and causing objects to tremble on their surfaces. Blue light flooded the walls, casting eerie shadows and filling the room with an ominous glow. The atmosphere crackled with electricity, every hair on your body standing on end as if charged with static energy.
A tablet materialized and floated before you, its screen pulsing with a faint, golden glow.
"Make her sign here, and it'll be done," Vox instructed, his voice carrying an air of finality as he handed Mimzy a stylus, tapping his clawed finger along the screen of his tablet.
With a trembling hand, Mimzy took the stylus and held it out for you, the strings of her magic wrapping around your limbs once again. You attempted to shout out, but Mimzy's magic stitched your lips shut, leaving you unable to utter a sound.
Helpless, you watched as your hand was forced to reach out and take the pen into your grasp, your fingers moving against your will as Mimzy guided them to sign the contract. With each stroke of the pen, a wave of despair washed over you, a muffled sob bubbling from your throat as your name appeared on the screen, sealing your fate.
Vox's grin widened, a glint of triumph dancing in his eyes as he held up your old paper contract with Mimzy, the words now rendered meaningless. With a swift motion, he tore it to shreds, the sound of paper ripping echoing through the tense silence of the room.
"Welcome to VoxTek, Dolly."
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yoditopascal · 2 months
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Sweetest Pie
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summary: The Worst Logan isn’t so bad after all. (logan/wolverine x fem black reader)
content warning: Wade is your best friend that’s a warning all on its own, some angst (like literally the tiniest bit) cussing, mutual pining, making out, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, dirty talking? (I’m so bad at writing it lmaoo), creampie, actual pie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it fellas), dacryphilia, post DP&W, breaking the bed, scent kink, overstimulation, he technically sniffs your underwear??, Deadpool being Deadpool, MINORS DNI
a/n: The Sweetest Pie by Megan the Stallion is playing in the background while y’all fuck, that’s all.
tag list: @allmyn1ghts @figsnpassionfruits @dragonqueen89 @shebby-the-webby
Ducking down out of the way, Wade just barely makes it out of the line of fire as a glass mug hits the wall behind him, shattering on impact.
“You wanna run that by me again bub?”
“That was my favorite mug!”
“Repeat what you fucking said!” He snarls, hand balled into tight fists, it’s taking everything in his power not to maul the idiot with his claws….again
“All I said was you're more pent up than a nun doing squats in a cucumber field!” Wade said looking back at the wall, there was already a dent forming, one of many that had been popping up since the older mutant had decided to move in with him.
It's been 3 months since Logan started living with Wade and Blind Al and he’s about fucking had it. Laura had moved out after the first month, needing her own space, but she still frequently visited, he honestly was tempted to join her but figured she wouldn’t want her old man around all the time cramping her style.
Logan could feel a headache coming on as he pinched the bridge of his nose as Wade spoke again.
“You, my little honey badger, are lacking in the hanky panky department and no amount of self loving in the bathroom mirror at midnight is gonna fix that.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” He asked, sometimes he felt like instead of forming actual sentences Wade just put a bunch of random shit together so he could hear himself speak.
“Oh my gooood you’re so old, I’m talking about sex grandpa, you know, fucking? The horizontal hula? Bumping uglies? Filling the cream donut?”
“Stop.” Logan said with a look of disgust.
“I can smell your sexual frustration from here.” Wade groaned. “You need to spend a little less time brooding around the house like you're a DC character, and maybe spend a little more time doing hot yoga.” He was as he holds up a finger and boops Logan on the nose.
Logan swats his hand away but Wade continues paying no mind to his attitude as he points toward the front door.
“It just so happens that I know a great friend o’ mine who’d have absolutely no problems taming the beast for you bub and oh look at that, she happens to live right across the hall.” He said with a wink
“Don’t bring her into this.” Logan said, waving him off as he went to sit on the couch. Unfortunately Wade knew exactly how he felt about you, having figured it out during their whole ordeal with his variants, Paradox and Cassandra and the bastard had yet to let him live it down.
“Come on Wolvie you can cut the sexual tension you two have with a knife, it’s so thick!” He groans again, throwing himself on the couch beside him dramatically. “It might even be thicker than ours!” Wade said as he leans on Logan’s shoulder fluttering his scarred eyes at him. He shrugs him off, turning the tv on hoping the sound of whatever was on would drown him out but Wade just kept going.
“Stop being a pussy and talk to her!”
“Oh like how you talked to Vanessa?” He snapped back, his anger reaching its limit.
“First of all, we’re a working progress right now and second of all, ouch! Who hurt you?”
Growing tired of Wade and his endless jabbering Logan stood going to grab his jacket from the closet so he could leave.
“Where are you huffing and puffing off too big bad wolf?”
“Anywhere but here.” He said slamming the door shut behind him.
After a few drinks at Sister Margaret's and time to cool his head, Logan returns home to get some chores out of the way. He was far over due to wash his stuff and his hero costume was really starting to fuck with his nose, so, shoving a few handfuls of quarters from Al’s disco dust fund jar into his pockets,he loaded up his hamper and heads down to the laundry room in the basement.
Upon entering he almost immediately bumps into you. You were kicking the dryer when he found you, pissed because it ate your quarters, not paying attention to your surroundings at all.
Digging around in his pockets he bumps his shoulder to yours to get your attention. Startled you nearly jumped out of your skin as he held a hand up in surrender, not meaning to scare you.
“Sorry, just thought I’d offer up some of mine.” He said, pulling a handful of change from his back pocket.
“Oh. that’s ok, I’m-” you start but are stopped when he grabs your hands with one of his and unceremoniously dumps the change into your palms.
“I wasn’t suggesting, take 'em I got more than enough.”
With a silent nod you thank him as he shrugs you off with a “Don’t mention it.”
Logan starts to load up his laundry into the washer next to yours, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you toss your wet clothes into the dryer. You don’t notice as a piece of yellow fabric falls to the floor between you, Logan turns his head to say something, at first not realizing what it was, until it dawns on him that, holy shit, it's a pair of your underwear…and they had Wolverine on them.
They were boxer briefs, nothing inherently sexy about them, but the scent they gave off, clean laundry soap mixed with the smell of your core had Logan reeling.
A small smirk crawled across his face as he started to imagine you wearing them around your house, nothing else adorning your body except for an oversized tee shirt that looked eerily like one of his own, he thought it was cute. Turning his head back to finish his task he kept loading his clothes not showing interest in the underwear to keep from making things awkward. One thing he couldn't deny was your scent. The scent of your core that lingered on the fabric was making his head swim, it was utterly intoxicating, this definitely didn't help with growing his frustration.
After he loaded the washer he pulled a flask from his pocket taking a shot of liquor inside to compose himself as he realized you still hadn’t noticed you dropped them. “You uh dropped something sweetheart.” he nodded towards them. Horrified, you snatch them up and throw them in the dryer.
“Oh god I-I’m sorry! I-“ you start to stutter, at a complete loss for words you slam the dryer lid close and grab your basket ready to leave and hide away in your apartment for the rest of your life until Logan stops you with a strong hand that engulfs your wrist.
“No I-uh I get it. He was your hero right?”
“Yeah he was… but so are you!” You started but quickly press a fist to your forehead in frustration.
“Sorry I don’t want you to feel like you're obligated to live up to him or anything, you’re your own person! I just-“ you were interrupted by Logan closing the distance between you. In your frustration a few of your locs had slipped from your ponytail and were hanging in your face. Logan reached towards you moving one from your face tucking it behind your ear, his bright hazel eyes scanning you carefully taking in your features with a smirk.
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” He said, your scent was sending his sensing into overdrive, he could smell your sweat mixed with the soap you used with the spicy aroma of your arousal starting to peek through.
You look down to the ground still slightly embarrassed but mostly warm from the close proximity before you feel a finger lift your chin causing your gaze to meet Logan’s once more. “S-sorry I ramble when I’m nervous.” It came out almost as a whisper, causing Logan to chuckle. It was an annoying habit you had picked up from your best friend Wade over the years he noticed. The intensity of his stare was starting to send your stomach into knots but not in a bad way.
The sound of the laundry room door opening and closing as another tenant enters quickly separates them. Silently the pair looked away from each other as the tenant loaded up his belongings in the open washer. He quickly spared a passing glance between the two of you who awkwardly tried to stare at anything but each other before shrugging his shoulders and leaving.
An awkward silence blanket over the two of you as you shuffle your feet before you scooped up your basket again.
“Listen Logan-“
“Darlin I-“
You both started at the same time. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest causing your cheeks to feel warm. You smiled down at your feet and tucked another stray loc behind your ear before Logan spoke again.
“You first.”
“I was just gonna ask, did you maybe wanna come over for dinner tonight?”
Logan thought of a million different reasons why he shouldn’t. As if you could see the hesitation across his face you spoke up again.
“Before you say no, I got booze. Something a bit stronger than what I normally drink but it’s right up your alley. It was a gift from Wade.”
Of course it was from Wade.
“I’m also making pie.”
Well shit.
He let out a small sigh, looking down at your big pleading doe eyes before he shrugged; “Sure,why not.” Afterall how could he say no to you when you looked like that?
He could almost imagine Wade fist pumping the air in excitement at the aspect of the two spending alone time together, the blubbering idiot.
You flashed Logan another bright smile before heading to leave, you paused in the doorway for millisecond, before asking “See you at 7?”
“It’s a date doll.”
Seven o’clock rolled around much too quickly for either of them. Logan was busy fussing with his hair in the mirror trying to get the tufts of hair that usually stick up to lay down when Wade walked into the bathroom unceremoniously.
“Don’t you look positively ravishing tonight, got a hot date peanut?”
“Fuck off.” He growls, giving up with his hair and going to throw on a flannel over his wife beater.
“Wait, you do! Holy dick cheese Batman it’s finally happening!” Wade squealed excitedly
“What the hell are you even doing in here?” Logan asked in the doorway of the bathroom observing Wade, he was dressed in a tee shirt and a pair of hello kitty pajama pants and slippers, Logan rolled his eyes before heading to the kitchen to grab a beer.
“Had to take a shit, thanks for asking, but don’t change the subject!” Wade said following him into the kitchen “Who’s the lucky gal?” He asked leaning on the island, his head propped dreamily on his fist. “Or guy we don’t judge here. Wait wait wait! It's not who I think it is, is it?”
Logan didn’t say anything as he guzzled down his drink pre-gaming for the night, turning to grab another from the fridge before plopping down on the couch behind him.
At his silence Wade kicked his feet and clapped his hands excitedly, swinging around in his seat to look at Logan. Mary Puppins barked from her spot on the couch beside him.
“Fuck the Bachelorette and Love Island! The producers are going to make a killing outta this!” He paced excitedly flopping down beside him struggling to keep his composure. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?! We are gonna make millions, no fuck that billions off your sex tape alone! I mean you two love birds are going to blossom in internal passion as the stars align with the future of the virgin Mary!” He said hugging Logan from the side.
Confused as fuck he shrugs Wade off him with a frown as he stands to his feet looking at his roommate with a raised brow. Downing the last of his beer he puts the empty bottle on the counter and heads for the door not wanting to be late.
“Oooh don’t forget to wear a condom, peanut! Remember wrap it before you tap it, before you attack her wrap your whacker! And if you’re not gonna sack it, come home and-!“
Logan slams the door shut before Wade could finish anymore of his bullshit.
He raised his hand to knock at your door but hesitated for a moment. Memories of the you from his timeline flooded his brain for a brief moment and he lowered his hand. He had really fucked you over royally in his own timeline and then you had died before he had a chance to fix that. Was he even worth your time in this one?
He shook the thoughts from his head and squared his shoulders, this was his second chance, a chance to fix all the shit he messed up before and he’d be damned if he was gonna waste this opportunity.
Just as he raised his hand to knock again you tore the door open with wide eyes.
“Logan hi!”
“Hey- you ok kid? You look outta breathe.” He questioned looking you up and down in concern while also unabashedly checking you out.
“Y-yeah I’m sorry I was about to come over and ask Wade if I could borrow something but I-it’s fine come on in!” you said ushering him in before the door behind you both.
The inside of your apartment is cute. The layout is much the same as his own place that he shares with Wade and Blind Al but yours just felt a little more homey to him.
Movie posters and works of art decorated your walls, there was a bookcase in the living room full of all kinds of books and knick knacks that you had collected over the years. On a table by the tv was a record player with a decent sized stack of vinyls. The whole place just screamed you.
“Dinner’s just about ready!” You said drawing his attention back to you. You had changed clothes since he last saw you in the laundry room, your outfit hugging your soft curves in all the right places.
“I was comin’ over to see if Wade had some ice cream for the pie, but I guess we could go without it.” You said leading him into the dining room with a smile, you’re always smiling at him, he noticed. “I hope you like blueberry!”
Logan never thought he'd see the day where someone would cook a nice meal for him let alone the variant of someone he treated so callously before.
He winced internally trying not to think about that. He was here now, not in his old shitty universe where you were gone, but in a new one, one where he had friends, a daughter, a family. It was a chance to start over.
“Sounds great darlin, I’m starving.”
Once you sit down for dinner Logan immediately tucks in, he could smell what you were cooking hours ago from across the hall and damn if it wasn’t the best thing he ever put in his stomach.
The two of you made light conversation as you ate, you poured yourself a glass of wine while Logan had the hard stuff, single malt scotch on the rocks. It had been a gift from Wade after one of his missions, an expensive one at that, and Logan savored every drop of it.
After a few more drinks the pair cleared their empty plates, wrapping up the leftovers of their meal up in portions so Logan could take some home with him. You were pulling the pie from the oven when you heard the telltale sound of running water, looking over you see Logan, rolling up his sleeves with a dish towel draped over his shoulder as he started to do the dishes.
You bite your lip to physically keep from moaning and embarrassing yourself on the spot, domesticity looked damn good on him.
His nose twitched as he smelled your arousal spike for a second, thinking it better to keep that to himself he shifted on his feet as he dried a dish and put it on the rack.
“You don’t have to-“ You started pulling off your oven mitts. They were Star Wars themed, nerdy like the rest of your apartment.
God you were such a geek! You thought flustered, while shoving them onto the counter behind you.
“Nah you cooked, it’s the least I could do.” He said not moving from his spot at the sink
“Logan.” You said firmly placing a hand on your hip. “You’re a guest.”
“And you cooked.” He reiterated,cocking an eyebrow your way. “I’m not budging on this darlin.”
You sigh defeatedly as you grab the towel from his shoulder. “Fine, at least let me help.”
The two of you do the dishes in silence, him washing and you drying, your fingers brushing against each other every so often.
“Dinner was great.” Logan said awkwardly trying to break the stifling silence that enveloped you.
“Good I’m glad you liked it.” You smiled down at your hands timidly, refusing to let him see you cheesing as hard as you were.
“Sorry for not being better company, I know you’re more used to people talkin’ your ear off.”
Wade begrudgingly crosses his mind.
"I'm just uh not so good with people. Makes me anxious.” He admitted, it took a lot for him to come out and say it but he was comfortable with you, he trusted you.
“I get it, I’m the same way that’s why I’m always around Wade. He usually does all the talking for me.” You say fondly thinking back to all the times Wade had been your emotional support extrovert.
Logan honestly had no idea how you put up with him.
“Besides I think your company’s just fine Logan, I like having you around.”
I like being around you too, he wanted to say but he couldn’t get it out. Instead he settled for brushing his shoulder against yours, a small smile dancing across his features as you smiled back up at him.
Flicking the water from your hand as you both finished up, you dry your hands on another rag before offer it up to Logan, his fingers brushing against yours for the umpteenth time that night.
When you look up he’s staring at you, his eyes taking in your features again, flickering between your face and your mouth. You can’t quite place what the emotion is behind his eyes but it makes your belly feel warm and your chest flutters.
Maybe it’s the alcohol you both had, though you know for a fact it takes a whole hell of a lot more than what you had to get you both drunk, but you could have sworn he was getting closer to you.
You start to back up just as he moves to close the distance between you. Chest to chest, or more like chest to sternum as he was almost a whole foot taller than you, Logan starts to lean down sniffing you as your back hits the counter behind you.
“Your heart’s racing.” He says
You had almost completely forgotten about his heightened senses. You were so nervous this whole evening, hoping that everything would go right, could he hear you this whole time? Oh god could he smell you?
“You smell good too.” He says moving to stroke your face with the back of his hand, confirming your fears. You clench your legs together tightly, hoping to at least dampen the smell of how wet you were becoming, causing him to chuckle.
“No use hiding it doll, I can smell you from a mile away.” He said leaning down so that his face is closer to yours.
“Logan…” you whisper. His eyes never leaving your mouth.
“Hm?”
“T-the pie…” You stuttered nervously as your own eyes drifted down to his mouth. You worked so hard on the pie you didn’t know if you’d hate it more if it went to waste or if he moved away from you at that moment.
You wanted more than anything for him to stay where he was, caging you in at the counter like a frightened little mouse.
“It can wait sweetheart.” He said, finally claiming your lips as his own.
He pulls back for a moment to look at you, dipping to place a gentle peck on your lips, as if he’s asking if this is ok.
You wrap your arms around him, dragging his mouth back down to yours, he moves his hands to the back of your thighs hoisting you up onto the counter behind you, grinding himself into you as the kiss deepens.
Logan hesitates in the kiss for a moment, pulling himself away from you as if he realizes something. When you try to lean back in and kiss him again he stops you, holding you at arm’s length searching your eyes for something, anything he could use to make you hate him in this timeline like you undoubtedly did in his old one but he found nothing but adoration.
“You-“ he starts to speak, his voice a little shaky “You don’t want this sweetheart, I’m not a good man.”
I’m not your hero, he meant to say.
You place a hand on his cheek rubbing softly at his mutton chops with your thumb.
“Please stop telling me what I fucking want.” You say leaning back in to peck at his lips. “I want you, not a hero, or this timeline’s Logan, or any other Logan out there, just you. You’re not the Worst Logan, you're just you and I want all of you.” You finish while leaning up into him, waiting for his response.
Raising an eyebrow and at a complete loss for words, having rarely heard you cuss, Logan smirks before leaning back down to meet you the rest of the way recapturing your lips with a “Yes ma’am.”
His right hand comes up to cup your jaw, gently running the pad of his thumb over the skin before running his hand up to weave his finger through your locs.
You hop off the counter, grabbing him by his flannel your mouth reconnects with his as you lead him into your bedroom, he kicks the door shut behind him.
You start to kiss down his jaw before Logan stops you with a growl. He picks you up and tosses you onto the bed before his lips reconnect with yours.
His hands find their way under your clothes to paw at you, as you free him from the confines of his flannel. Tossing it behind him, it hits your iPod dock causing music to start playing but neither of you care, too enraptured in each other to even notice. Logan pulls away from your mouth only long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his hands trailing down to pull down your pants and underwear next.
He grabs you by your hips dragging you to the edge of the bed, as he kneels down in front of you, eye level with your hot core.
You throw your head back with a moan at the first drag of his tongue. Your legs finding their way around his shoulders as he drags his nose and tongue up and down teasing you.
He presses his mouth against your clit, sucking on it before pulling away and flicking it with his tongue, drawing circles and nipping at it with his teeth.
Watching you through dark lashes, he drags his hand down your body bringing it to his mouth, he licks his finger, bringing it to your wet cunt as he slowly begins to move it in and out of you, curling it against your gummy walls searching until he finds the right spot. You let out a strangled half-sob as he leans back down pressing his mouth against your clit again, sucking and flicking at the hard nub.
“Shit,” you rasp out, reaching out for him. He knew you were getting close, he could tell from the way you pulsed around him as he added another finger.
Tears brimmed your eyes as you felt your orgasm building. “Please, right there!” You choked, eyes closing as you threw your head back.
“So fucking wet for me already and I barely touched you.” Logan chuckles. You stifled a noise as your impending orgasm builds in your gut.
“I-I’m gonna-!” You start to cry out but are cut off by a sob.
“I gotcha darlin, I’m right here.” He mumbles into your pussy as he reaches his free hand out to hold your hips open for him, your hands frantically bury themselves in his hair, desperate for something to hang on to. He carries on lapping at you as you squirm talking you through your orgasm as he rubbed his nose to your clit, drawing it out of you as his fingers continue to fuck in and out of you.
“That’s it sweetheart.” He sighs as he keeps fucking you on his fingers, his intensity increasing as he latches himself back onto your clit devouring you like a man starved, you come almost instantly. It’s when he looks up at you, hazel eyes dark and hungry, that you finally lose it, your second orgasm of the night ripping through like a freight train.
Standing back to his feet Logan licks your residue from his lips and fingers, chin glistening with your slick.
You sit up immediately grabbing at his belt, fingers rushed and fumbling with the buckle, he replaces your hands quickly unbuckling it before pulling the hem of his shirt up over his head.
Reaching behind you, you free your chest from your bra, just as he kicks his pants off. Logan pushes you backwards, your back hitting the soft mattress beneath you as he stalks over towards you on his hands and knees.
He inhales deeply through his nose taking in your scent, the aroma of you mixed with your arousal is intoxicating and is driving him absolutely feral, with a wet kiss he bites down hard where your neck and shoulder meet, where your scent’s the strongest, nearly drawing blood, before he’s back on you, covering your mouth with his own kissing you viciously as if you’d fade away from existence if he let you go.
He laps at the spot he had previously bitten you as he slowly pulls away, soothing the skin there. The mark was already gone, thanks to your healing factor, but god you could still feel it and you secretly ached that he’d do it again.
You soon feel the head of his cock running along your folds, it’s thick, and hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick hole. Then without warning he’s pushing into you, sheathing himself inside of you with a single thrust.
Logan threw his head back with a loud groan. He promised himself he’d go slow with you, take his take opening you up for him but fuck if this didn’t feel right, good it felt oh so good.
“Fuck” he grunts out into your mouth as he drops his head down to drag you into a hard smoldering kiss swallowing your moans as he sinks in fully.
He lets you adjust for a few moments before he pulls back and thrusts into you instinctively, repeating the harsh action as he begins to slowly pick up his pace. If you had been completely human, the force of his thrusts would’ve surely shattered your pelvis or at least threw them out of alignment.
Reaching up to grab onto the headboard of your bed to anchor himself Logan locks in fully, gripping the wood bar in a death grip as he pushes into you. You reach up too, grabbing a handful of sheets by your head with one hand and his hips with the other, desperate for something to anchor yourself with as Logan’s brutal pace has you reeling.
“L-Logan!” you cry out, body shaking from the force of his thrusts. His cock sinking deeper and deeper as he angles your legs over his shoulders, hitting that sweet spot inside of you repeatedly making your legs tremble in unadulterated pleasure.
An audible crack is heard from where Logan is still holding onto your headboard but you both could careless, your heads completely clouded over with lust.
Just when you were starting to think it was all too much, his thumb finds your clit again and starts to rub fierce quick little circles.
“Gimme one more darlin.” His voice is strained and rough, as he leans down to your neck inhaling your scent again as he licks up to your neck nipping at your jaw and neck as he pulls away.
You scrambled to get away, pushing at his chest as the over sensitivity was proving to be too much.
Logan lets go of the headboard and grabs both your hands with his much larger one, locking them firmly to his chest right over his rapidly beating heart.
“Don’t try and run from me kid, you wanted this remember?” He chuckled darkly, picking up his pace even more if that were possible.
Tears stream steadily down your cheeks as your barreling toward your next orgasm, it’s here, with your hair fanned out around your head, cheeks puffy and tear stained while you pant desperately trying to get away and keep up with him at the same time , that he thinks this is the most beautiful he’s ever seen you.
“Come on my dick, baby.”
Your body completely locks up at his words, your back arching off the bed as you scream, your orgasm wrecking through you as you clench around him like a vice. Logan drops your legs, yanking you up into a messy kiss as he takes you through it.
“Good fucking girl.” He grunts against your lips, he gives you a few moments to come down from your high, burying his face into your neck before he resumes his punishing pace.
You think you’re at your limit as fat tears fall from your eyes, never have you ever felt this good, this full before, it’s far too much for you.
Just as you were about to tap out, he grunts into your neck, his hands move to grip your ass bringing it up to meet his thrusts.
“Fuck, tell me where?” He growls out. He wraps an arm around your back bringing you chest to chest as he fucks you on his lap, the new angle making him hit that sweet spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.
At first you don’t quite understand what he’s asking, your brain too foggy to comprehend much of anything right now, but as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, nearly drawing blood again, you finally understood, he was close and so were you again.
“Inside, please I wanna feel you.” You whimpered as he pounds into you. He groans at your request and picks up the pace rutting up into you desperately like an animal. His hammering is deep and unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it feels too good to make him stop, you’ll definitely have a hard time walking in the morning.
With one last harsh flick of his thumb to your clit you’re coming hard on his dick, clenching around him as your body quivers uncontrollably, almost blacking out for a moment.
He growls as his hips stutter against your own, as he cums into you, the force of his final thrust knocking you both bad down onto the mattress. Logan thrusts a few more times, pumping his load as deep inside of you as he could, claiming your mouth once again in a deep searing kiss.
You run your hands through his hair as he nearly drops himself on you, his forearms supporting the weight of his adamantium skeleton. He’s still buried inside you as you're peppering his face and neck with light kisses.
It’s quiet for a moment before he lifts himself up, pulling himself from inside you with a grunt. He pushes stray locs from your face as he kisses your forehead and flops over onto the other side of the bed dragging you with him.
At the weight of his adamantium bones dropping down onto the already crack and barely hanging on frame your bed frame finally gives out dropping your mattress to the floor with a loud thud, startling the both of you.
“I can’t believe that just happened.” You panted too shocked and tired to move from your spot on his chest.
“Sorry baby, I’ll get you a new one.” Logan laughs lightly as he pulls you to his chest.
A comfortable silence fills the room as the two of you lay on the floor, your breathing starting to return to normal. Leaning down to inhale your scent again Logan’s met with the pleasant tang of you covered in him and pulls you tighter snuggling you into him.
“You still with me?” The rough edge of his voice brings you back to your senses.
You smiled up at him from his chest with a big dopey smile, eyes completely dazed as you answered with an “mm-hm.” Too fucked out to fully speak properly. You laid back down on his chest, eyes closed as you shiver, he runs a hand up and down your spine as you start to drift off.
He chuckles at your response or lack thereof and pulls your sheets over the both of you. The temperature in the room had started to come down dramatically as your sweat covered bodies cooled in the night.
Just as Logan was about to close his eyes and join you in what was hopefully a peaceful night’s rest for the first time in years, your bedroom door bursts open revealing Wade, still clad in his hello kitty pajamas helping himself to a piece of the pie you had left out.
“Jesus Wade!” You yell eyes practically bulging out of your head as you scramble to grip the sheets to your chest.
“What the fuck asshole?!” Logan growled trying his best to shield you from view with his arms. His hazel eyes were seething with anger.
“My sweet virgin eyes!” Wade said, covering his eyes but still peeking through them through a gap in his fingers with a smirk as he chewed loudly. “You two sounded like an indoor jungle gym but instead of a shit ton of kids it's just you two.” He laughs shoving the rest of the slice into his mouth as he moves to sit on the edge of the broken bed on the floor, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You, young lady, have some pipes on you. Could hear you practically singing about the Wolverine.~” he teases with a tsk.
“And you sir!” He points to Logan who growls at him as he swats his hand outta his face. “Where do I even begin?” He tsked again as he shook his head “You really had some pent up frustration didn’t you, you slut? Did you break her? I know she has a healing factor too but good god man have some restraint!” he leans back on her broken bed as he spreads himself out on the end.
“And her poor bed! I hope you're planning on replacing it, bee tee dubs.” Wade rolls over onto his side propping himself up on his elbow at the couple’s feet. “Did he even use a condom?” He whispered to you loudly before adding “Nice tits by the way.” as he winked at Logan. “I don’t think creampie was the type of pie she had in mind when she invited you over for dinner, old man.”
“Who knew Wolverine was a cuddler?”
You roll your eyes at Wade’s antics completely used to him over the years of knowing him but Logan on the other hand had clearly had enough. Ripping the sheets from himself you watch as Logan comically chases Wade out of the room, buck ass naked.
Slamming your bedroom door shut Logan turns the lock with a grunt, finally returning to your side he pulls you back to his chest and flings the sheets over you.
“He’s not so bad, y'know when you get used to him.” You shrug with your eyes closed as you snuggle into his chest. Adrenaline, now dying down, sleep had started to wrap you in its dreamy embrace and it was hard to keep your eyes open.
“That little cockroach is gonna be the death of me.”
You laugh at him one last time before finally drifting off. Your soft snores were the last thing Logan heard as he too snuggled into your warmth and drifted off.
Who knew the Wolverine was such a cuddler.
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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i wna write :c
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phillcspherstcne · 2 years
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Tag dump: Verses
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nixiefics · 4 months
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Posses
Pairing: Robb Stark X Silent!Sister Reader
Warnings: Smut, posessive Robb, p in v sex, oral (female receiving), rough sex
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Robb Stark winces as you carefully manipulate his leg, guiding his hip back into place with practiced hands. The sharp intake of breath that escapes him when the bone finally clicks into its rightful position tells you just how much pain he’s been enduring. You’ve been a Silent Sister in training for only a short time, but already you’ve seen more suffering than you ever imagined possible. Yet, this man, the Young Wolf, is different. His pain seems to ripple through you as if it were your own.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice strained but genuine. His blue eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you forget the vow of silence you took upon entering your order. You nod in acknowledgment, your fingers still lingering on his hip, feeling the heat of his body through the thin linen of his undergarment.
Days pass, and you tend to Robb’s injuries with unwavering diligence. His recovery is slow, but each day he grows stronger. You watch as he interacts with his men, see the respect and loyalty they have for him. He’s not just their King; he’s their friend, their brother. It’s a bond forged in the fires of battle and tempered by the fairness and justice he shows them.
Grey Wind, his direwolf, is never far from his side. The massive wolf seems to sense your importance to Robb, often watching you with intelligent, piercing eyes. When you approach, Grey Wind’s posture is relaxed, but the unspoken warning is clear: you are under his protection as well.
But it’s not just his men and his direwolf who are drawn to him. You feel an undeniable pull towards Robb Stark. His kindness, his honour, his unwavering dedication to his family and his cause – all of it captivates you. You’ve seen men broken by war, their spirits shattered as surely as their bodies, but Robb remains whole. More than whole, he seems to grow stronger with each passing day, his determination like a beacon in the dark.
One evening, as you’re tending to another soldier’s wounds, you feel his eyes on you. Robb watches from across the camp, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with something you can’t quite name. Jealousy? The thought lingers as you stitch up the gash on the soldier’s arm, your hands steady despite the intensity of Robb’s gaze. Grey Wind is by his side, growling softly, mirroring Robb’s protective feelings.
Later, as you change the dressing on Robb’s hip, he grabs your wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. “You spend too much time with the others,” he says, his voice low and edged with frustration. “I need you with me.”
You look up, startled by the intensity in his eyes. You try to pull away, but his hold tightens. “I don’t want you tending to them,” he says, his voice rough. “I want you by my side. Always.”
You nod, your heart pounding. His possessiveness is startling, but also oddly reassuring. It means he cares, that he values you more than you realized. From that moment on, you are always at his side, tending to his needs, ensuring his recovery. Grey Wind often lies nearby, his presence a constant reminder of Robb’s vigilance even when he cannot be with you.
The other men notice, their eyes following you with curiosity and a hint of envy. Robb’s attention and possessiveness are clear to all, and it changes the dynamic in the camp. No longer just a healer, you are now the woman who has captured the heart of the Young Wolf.
One day, you’re tending to a minor injury on a young soldier when Robb storms into the tent. His face is a mask of barely controlled anger. “Leave us,” he commands the soldier, who scrambles to his feet and exits hastily.
Robb strides over to you, his eyes blazing. “I told you, I don’t want you with them,” he growls, grabbing your hand and pulling you close. “You’re mine.”
You can feel the heat of his breath on your face, the intensity of his emotions crashing over you like a wave. His jealousy is raw, visceral, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve never seen him like this, so consumed by his need for you. Grey Wind stands at his side, his eyes fixed on you, a silent enforcer of Robb’s wishes.
“I can’t stand seeing you with them,” he admits, his voice a harsh whisper. “It tears me apart. You’re the only one who understands me, who makes me feel whole. I need you, only you.”
You reach up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, feeling the tension in his jaw. You nod, your silent promise to be by his side always. His grip on you softens, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. Grey Wind nudges your leg gently, as if to seal the promise.
In the weeks that follow, Robb’s possessiveness only grows. He keeps you close, his eyes always on you, ensuring that no one else can claim your attention. It’s a fierce, consuming need that drives him, a reflection of the depth of his feelings for you. Grey Wind is never far, his protective presence a constant reminder of the bond you share with Robb.
One night, as you sit by the fire, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “You’re mine,” he whispers into your ear, his voice a low growl. “No one else’s. Remember that.”
You nod, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and something darker, more primal. Robb Stark may be the Young Wolf, a fearsome leader and a brilliant strategist, but to you, he is simply Robb – the man who would fight the world to keep you by his side. And as you look into his eyes, you know that you would do the same for him.
One afternoon, you are out gathering herbs when a group of soldiers approaches you. They’re friendly, asking for your help with minor ailments. Before you can respond, Grey Wind appears from the trees, teeth bared, a low growl rumbling from his throat. The soldiers step back, fear evident in their eyes.
You pat his head gently in warning, but the direwolf’s eyes remain fixed on the men until they retreat. When you return to camp, Robb is waiting, his eyes dark with concern and jealousy.
“Were they bothering you?” he asks, his voice tight.
You shake your head, but Robb pulls you into his arms, holding you close. “I don’t want you going out alone anymore,” he says. “Grey Wind will accompany you, or I will.”
You nod, understanding the depth of his worry. His possessiveness is more than just jealousy; it’s a need to protect you, to keep you safe in a world that is anything but. You feel his love in every fierce look, every protective gesture, every time Grey Wind’s eyes follow you like a shadow.
As Robb’s recovery progresses, your bond deepens. He confides in you, shares his fears, his hopes, his dreams. You listen, your silence a balm to his troubled soul. And in those quiet moments, you realize that you’ve found something rare and precious in the midst of war.
Robb’s men see the change in their lord, the lightness in his step, the hope in his eyes. They see the way he looks at you, the way Grey Wind shadows your every move, and they understand. The Young Wolf has found his heart, and it beats for you.
One night, as you sit by the fire, Robb’s arms around you and Grey Wind at your feet, he whispers, “You’re mine, and I am yours. Always.”
You smile, knowing that no matter what the future holds, you will face it together. Robb Stark may be the Young Wolf, a fearsome leader and a brilliant strategist, but to you, he is simply Robb – the man who captured your heart with his honour, his kindness, and his unwavering love. And in his eyes, you see the same love reflected back at you, a bond that no war, no enemy, can ever break.
"You should rest, My King," you say softly. "Let us retire for the evening."
Your words leave him stunned for a moment. You have taken a vow of silence, yet here you are, speaking to him. The surprise in his eyes quickly melts into something deeper, a mixture of relief and gratitude. Robb nods, allowing you to help him up, your hands steadying him as he leans on you for support. Grey Wind shadows your every step, his amber eyes watching protectively.
As you guide Robb towards his tent, the camp around you starts to quiet down. The fires burn low, casting flickering shadows that dance in the night. You can feel the weight of Robb’s gaze on you, the unspoken questions simmering just beneath the surface.
Inside the tent, the atmosphere is warm and intimate. You help Robb ease down onto his furs, his eyes never leaving yours. He reaches for your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “Why now?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with curiosity and concern. “Why break your vow of silence?”
You take a deep breath, kneeling beside him. “Because I need you to understand,” you begin, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “My silence was a shield, a way to distance myself from the pain and suffering I witnessed. But with you, it’s different. I can’t remain silent any longer. Not when my heart speaks so loudly.”
Robb’s eyes soften, his hand squeezing yours gently. “What are you saying?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m saying that I want to leave the Silent Sisters,” you declare, your resolve hardening. “But I will only do so if you share my commitment, if you promise that our bond is as strong as I believe it to be.”
Robb’s eyes widen, his surprise evident. He pulls you closer, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You would give up your vows for me?” he asks, his voice filled with awe.
You nod, your heart pounding. “Yes. But only if you promise to be with me, to share this life with me. I cannot leave my order for uncertainty. I need your commitment, Robb.”
Robb’s expression transforms into one of determination. “I promise,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “You have my word. I will stand by you, always. You are not just my healer, but my heart. I need you by my side.”
A sense of relief washes over you, and you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Grey Wind huffs and trots to settle just outside the entrance to the tent, a silent sentinel watching over you both. For the first time in a long while, you feel a sense of peace and belonging.
Robb cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’ve given me more than just my health,” he whispers. “You’ve given me hope, a future I didn’t dare dream of. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, to make you happy.”
Tears of relief and joy well in your eyes as you nod. “And I promise to stand by you, to support you in every way I can,” you vow, your voice filled with emotion.
Robb leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “We will face whatever comes together,” he murmurs. “From this day forward, we are bound by more than just duty. We are bound by love.”
Robb leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “We will face whatever comes together,” he murmurs. “From this day forward, we are bound by more than just duty. We are bound by love.”
His words hang in the air, heavy with promise and certainty. You feel the heat of his breath, the nearness of his lips, and it sends a shiver down your spine. The world around you fades away until there is only Robb—his eyes, his touch, his unwavering gaze that holds you captive.
Slowly, he tilts his head, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a touch. The sensation is electric, a spark that ignites something deep within you. His hands cup your face gently, his thumbs caressing your cheeks with a tenderness that belies the intensity of his emotions.
Then, without warning, the kiss deepens. His lips press against yours with a fervour that takes your breath away. It’s as if he’s pouring all his love, all his passion, into this single moment, and you respond in kind, matching his intensity. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, dark strands as you pull him closer.
The kiss is searing, consuming. It feels like the world is burning around you, but all you can focus on is the sensation of his lips on yours, the taste of him, the way his body presses against yours with a desperate need. Every brush of his lips, every flick of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.
Robb’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer until there is no space between you. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring the wild rhythm of your own. His lips leave yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck, igniting a trail of fire in their wake.
You gasp, your head falling back as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through you. “Robb,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. He responds with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he brings his lips back to yours in another fevered kiss.
Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in him, in the heat of his kiss, the strength of his embrace. The world outside the tent, the war, the uncertainty of the future—all of it fades away until there is only this moment, this man, and the love that binds you together.
Robb’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer until there is no space between you. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring the wild rhythm of your own. His lips leave yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck, igniting a trail of fire in their wake.
You gasp, your head falling back as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through you. “Robb,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. He responds with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he brings his lips back to yours in another fevered kiss.
Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in him, in the heat of his kiss, the strength of his embrace. The world outside the tent, the war, the uncertainty of the future—all of it fades away until there is only this moment, this man, and the love that binds you together.
You're vaguely aware of his fingers at the laces of your dress, tugging impatiently at them. Soon, it seems, he loses all patience and you gasp as he violently rips at the seams of your dress, pushing it over your shoulders and hips with a growl. "On the bed."
You crawl to the middle of the bed of furs, your heart pounding with anticipation as Robb stands before you with a hungry gaze. His possessive nature has always been clear, but now it's different - now, it's thrilling and exciting.
He sheds his own layers first, causing you swallow thickly as his chest is exposed; thick thighs built for fighting but that make you think they might be good for other pleasures as well. And then he is completely bare and you feel your core clench at the sight of his cock. Thicker than it was long, with veins running all along it; the thought of running your tongue over those veins makes your mouth water.
"Gods, you're glorious." you whisper, resisting the urge to chew at your nails.
Robb's calloused hands trace the curves of your body, sending shivers down your spine. His touch is confident and passionate, and you can't help but feel desired under his gaze. His lips find yours, and he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fervour that leaves you breathless.
As he breaks the kiss, his mouth moves to your neck, nibbling and licking the sensitive skin. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continues his assault on your senses. His hands slip under your shift, caressing your breasts with calloused hands. You arch your back, pressing yourself into his touch, wanting more.
Robb takes the hint, his fingers deftly removing your shift and freeing your body to his gaze. His mouth finds your nipples, and he sucks and nips at them, his stubble adding an extra layer of sensation. You gasp, your head falling back as he worships your body.
His hands trail down your body, fingers find your clit, and he begins to rub slow circles, making you moan and writhe beneath him. His other hand joins the first as well, his fingers sliding into your wet pussy. You are more than ready for him.
His head dips between your legs, and his tongue finds your clit. He licks and sucks, his fingers still inside you, curled to hit that perfect spot. You moan louder, your hips bucking as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.
Just as you're about to cum, he stops. You look at him, confused, but he just smirks at you. Robb pulls himself to his knees, positioning himself between your legs. He rubs the head of his cock against your clit, making you moan loudly again. He teases you like this for a moment before slowly sliding inside you.
He fills you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.
Robb's pace quickens, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. You can feel yourself getting close again, and you urge him on. "Harder, Robb, harder," you gasp. He complies, his cock slamming into you, making the bed shake.
You feel yourself on the brink, and then you're cumming, your orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave. Robb keeps thrusting, drawing out your pleasure until he finally follows you over the edge, filling you up with his cum.
He collapses on top of you, his breathing heavy and ragged. You wrap your arms around him, feeling closer to him than ever before. Robb's possessiveness has always been a part of him, but now, it's something else - it's a sign of his love and devotion to you.
As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, you know that this is just the beginning of your journey together. And you can't wait to see where it takes you.
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sweatervest-obsessed · 7 months
Text
Touch Me Baby
pairing: modern!steve harrington x modern!fem!reader
wc: 21.7k
cw: mad flirting, swearing, use of the f slur once, shattering glass, alcohol, drinking, weed, smoking, brief mentions of suicide, mentions of cheating, men being weird and implications of harassment, smut, 18+ mdni, fingering, p in v, oral (f recieving), minor praise kink, edging, teasing, multiple orgasms, wrap it before you tap it kids
a/n: set in modern times with phones and everything! i've never written anything this long before, and I really hope you guys like it!!
steve harrington masterlist
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“You literally look so fucking hot oh my god.” 
You rolled your eyes and checked yourself out in the mirror, smirking slightly. “I can feel you objectifying me Birdy.” 
Robin rolled her eyes and collapsed on to your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I just think it’s unfair that you aren’t so emotionally and deeply in love with me.” 
“Hey.” You peered over your shoulder, “I told you that I’d be your lesbian lover the second you needed one.” 
She sighed and sat up on her elbows. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to do me out of pity. I want you to love me.” 
You walked over and kissed her head. “ I do love you.”
“Yeah Yeah. As a friend.” She teased as you laughed and moved over to your vanity. 
“Just because you’re not my type doesn't mean I don’t think you’re showstoppingly gorgeous.”
“Are you trying to get into my pants Y/l/n?” Robin teased. 
“You wish Buckley.” 
Robin let out the most over-dramatic sigh and collapsed on your bed again, giggling after a moment.  
You laughed at her antics and checked out your makeup, your earrings, and your rings in the mirror next to your door. “Is this cute enough?” 
“Did I not just say how hot—”
You and Robin had lived together for about three years now. You had become fast friends freshman year and then roommates for the last three years of your college experience. The apartment you shared was perfect because it had two bedrooms, one bathroom, and the price didn’t rise once in your entire time living in NYC. The best perk of them all was having a home phone. It was reminiscent of your childhood and you both handed out your home phone number to everyone, enjoying the messages you received from anyone and everyone. 
It rang and immediately went to voicemail, as Robin had set it on vacation mode the second you moved in meaning every single phone call went directly to voicemail so you could both hear who it was. A man’s voice rang out through your shared apartment. 
“Hey it’s Steve, I just landed and I’m on my way to your place, I think it’s only a twenty-minute drive but I wanted to alert the household I was on my way.” 
You looked over at Robin, slightly uneasy. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting him.” 
Robin shrugged and her smile was a bit brighter. Her two best friends were about to meet, and maybe even hit it off and they could be a friend group—but Robin was getting ahead of herself. 
“You’re going to like him. The same level of snark, but definitely a softie under it all. And he’s my best friend, so I wouldn’t be friends with him if he sucked.”
You crossed your arms. “I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just call him your best friend in front of me and say that, I know he’s one of your best friends, which is why I’m worried. What if he thinks I’m a huge bitch or something, or like…I don’t know.” 
“He’ll love you.” 
You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Well. We have twenty minutes to fix up the house so that he doesn’t think we’re complete and total slobs or anything.” 
The two of you spent the next seventeen minutes unfolding your futon couch bed, frantically shoving trash in trash bins, and stuffing the dishwasher with dishes. You definitely weren’t slobs by any means, but sometimes it was easier to leave wine glasses or bottles on the coffee table, or just toss your bra onto the chair since you didn’t want to wear one anymore or…
“Which candle?” 
You rolled your eyes as you grabbed the extra pillows from your room. “Does it matter?” You yelled back to Robin. 
“I don’t know!” 
“Well, he’s your home best friend. So whatever you think would suit the straight man you’re friends with.” You walked out and placed the two pillows on the pull-out bed. 
“Okay, I’m going with Midnight Citrus because it’s my favorite and he can suck it up.” 
“Whatever you say, girl….” 
Both of your heads turned when you heard the knock on the door. Robin literally shrieked as she barreled towards the door and you swear you could hear Steve laugh through it.
Robin definitely knocked something over on her way over and you spent the next thirty seconds picking up the bowl and its contents from off the floor.
You had seen pictures of Steve before. There were plenty around the house of the two of them by themselves or with other friends from their hometown, so you knew Steve was an attractive man, but something about seeing him in person was a whole different beast. 
And there were no pictures in the apartment to prep you for the fact that he had these thin wire-framed glasses. You could have sworn he sucked the literal breath out of you. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Steve smiled that same lopsided smile you had seen on the walls and you probably would have dragged him back to your bedroom right then and there if Robin wasn’t standing right there and staring at you with the most hopeful look on her face you had seen since her breakup during sophomore year. 
“It’s uh, it’s so good to finally meet you too. Heard so much about you.” You smiled at him and kept your hands awkwardly in your back pockets. 
Steve nodded. “Same here. She actually doesn’t shut up about you.” 
“I could say the same thing.” 
“Okay, no need to be rude.” Robin huffed and haphazardly tossed Steve’s bags onto the couch. 
You and Steve shared a quick look, both of you trying not to laugh. 
“Ready to go Stevie boy? I know you just landed but it’s a Friday and I want to go out.” 
He nodded. “I remember the text you sent me like last week as a reminder Robs. I just have to change.” 
“The bathroom is the second door on the right.” You smiled at him and watched as he grabbed things. 
You looked over at Robin. “Where exactly do you want to go out?”
Steve passed by you and you caught a hint of the cologne he had put on this morning. He closed the door and you had to blink a few times. “Sorry, where did you say?” 
“I was thinking we could just go to the Cubbyhole…” 
“Robin, we are not taking him to Cubbyhole and ruining our reputation there.” 
“It’s literally not that big of a deal.”
“Babe, we are not bringing your straight man friend to a lesbian bar.” 
“Fine then—”
“And definitely not Henrietta’s either.” You cut her off. 
Robin crossed her arms. “ Well, then where do YOU want to take him? Because I’m not going to—” 
“Girl, please. It’s like you have no faith in me. Who showed you both of those bars in the first place?” 
“Fine then.” 
You smiled at your victory and watched as Robin walked over to the little whiteboard you had in the hallway. Robin erased the bottom half of the words but kept the tally up top. “So where are we going tonight?” 
“Are you okay with more of a just ‘sitting and drinking’ bar instead of clubbing tonight? Or at least we start at a bar and then move on to clubs?” 
Robin’s face twisted, but then she conceded. “Ugh, fine.” 
“Why don’t we start at Nothing Really Matters?”
“Which one is that?” 
Steve popped out of the bathroom right as Robin asked that question, causing you to stutter a bit in your answer. 
Steve was wearing these blue jeans that fit his thighs his ass him so well, and some clearly well-loved white Nike sneakers. But what got you was the shirt combo he was wearing. A tight black tee, covered by a short-sleeved patterned button-up, that was unbuttoned and just tight enough to fuck you up. 
Plus, you were sure you saw a silver chain around his neck, which made you wonder what it would look like when if he was above you. 
“I-I…um. It’s the one in.” You bit the inside of your cheek and looked back at Robin. “The one in the 50th Street subway station.” 
Robin raised her eyebrow at you, but you just shook your head, deciding to ignore what just happened and barrel through. 
“A bar in a subway station?” 
You smiled over at Steve. “It’s not as gross as it sounds. I swear. It’s one of my favorite little spots that not a lot of people know about so there’s almost always seating and they have really good drinks there too. Besides, it’s in the station so if Robin wants to abandon us for some clubbing then the train is right there.” 
He nodded and put his stuff away, while you looked back over at Robin who was making a face at you. 
“What?” 
She huffed and went into the kitchen. 
When you just stared at her, confused, she aggressively made a small wave for you to follow her. You sighed and obliged, managing to walk directly into Steve’s chest because you weren’t paying attention.
“Shit! Sorry.” Your hands were against his chest while he had one of his hands on your waist. 
“N-no it’s fine.” He gave you a sheepish smile and quickly pulled his hand off your waist, but your skin was covered in goosebumps from how close you two were. 
You quickly hurried into the kitchen where Robin was impatient tapping her foot. “Seriously?” 
“W-what?” you smoothed down the front of your top, trying not to look up at her. 
“You know what.” 
“Birdy I–”
“No, save it. I don’t want to fight. I just want to know why you’re so against going clubbing tonight when that was the original plan.” 
If you were to tell Robin the truth, it would be because you weren’t sure you wouldn’t end the night with her best friend in your bed, kissing him like the world was ending, doing things that would have her kicking you out of the apartment and her life. 
Or maybe it’s because you want to spend the entire night just talking to Steve and listening to his voice and learning every single thing about him. After all, you were utterly entranced. 
“I just, I worked all day, and now that we’re actually going out…I don’t know if I have the energy to go all out.” This wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the full truth. You had worked twelve hours today, and even before Steve had arrived, you had been dreading going out anyway. 
Robin’s face twisted a little bit. “It’s Steve's first time visiting me in the city and I wanted to show him around and show him all the places that I get to have fun.” 
“And for him to have a friend for when you inevitably win the bartender’s number tonight and go back with her to her place….” 
Robin’s cheeks turned bright red and she huffed again. “What–no–okay so maybe a bit but–”
“Look, babe, if you want to go to the Cubbyhole, I am more than supportive of that, it’s just that it’s not what I’m in the mood for. You could always ask Steve to go with you. Or ask him what he wants. And if he’s okay with going out, we can all start at the bar, and then we can split up based on how we are all feeling. Steve literally just got off of a plane not even an hour ago.” 
The two of you agreed on a plan and walked back into the living room, where Steve had been shifting his bags around, and had his phone open. 
“Are we ready?” He stood up and smiled at the both of you. 
You both nodded and smiled at one another. One of you was excited to start the night. And the other was dreading what would happen when Robin inevitably left you alone with her hot best friend from home. 
_________________________________________________________________________
The three of you had managed to snag one of the tables up against the wall of the bar. Steve sat on one side, and you sat on the other, with Robin between you. It was the perfect setup for everyone since Robin was in between her two favorite people on the planet, and you got to look at Steve frequently because he was in your direct line of sight. 
It was most definitely the alcohol, or maybe it wasn’t, but Steve was getting more attractive by the minute. 
“I’ll go get us another round!” Robin excitedly grabbed all three glasses and ran back off to the bar to get more drinks. While you were so grateful that it was going so well, you couldn’t help but Steve was feeling the same way you were. 
Were you such a bad friend if you were actually excited for Robin to leave the two of you alone together? 
“So how did you meet Robin?” 
You blinked a few times before looking over at Steve. It was dimly lit, but you were seated next to the lamp on the wall, so he was bathed in a red glow. He must have been some sort of Greek god or something because no one can look that good in any lighting at all times. 
“She didn’t tell you already?” 
Steve shook his head, smiling slightly. 
You bit your cheek again and smiled. “Okay so. We met in our first year here, and I wanted to beat the shit out of her, oh my god, she like, never shut up. And while I love her for it now, it was causing some strained tensions between the two of us. So we were in the same class and got partnered for a project about Women’s history, specifically, authors who we deemed as important. And so I offered up Toni Morrison, who is probably my favorite author of all time, and Miss Indiana over there told me that her books were mediocre at best and wanted to do a project about Virginia Woolf. Then I called her gay, and she freaked out. Not in the aggressive way you’re thinking, but simply because I knew she was a queer woman, and it freaked her out that someone could tell. Like only a gay woman picks Virginia Woolf.” 
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit, and you could tell he was unsure about the path this story was taking, but you continued on. 
“She ended up letting me win the argument and we put together the most beautiful slideshow on god’s green earth. I mean, seriously to this day, I think about the transitions. A good PowerPoint can make or break a class—anyway. After that, Robin didn’t speak to me for the rest of the week.”
“Which is valid because I thought she was going to fucking hate crime me since my experience with people knowing I’m gay is either Steve or getting called a fag so…” Robin placed the drinks down in front of the respective people and sat down on her stool.
“Until…” You took a sip of your drink, cutting her off so you could finish the story.”We attended the same party that Friday night at Vickie’s house—I’m assuming you know all about Vickie and the mess that was—anyway. We were at Vickie's place and I went into the kitchen where some girls were making fun of Birdy and calling her some really awful shit because she was from Cowland, and so I called them all a bunch of cunts and then defended my homegirl because women support women, especially queer women. Then she kissed me, and—she’s actually not that bad of a kisser if I’m being so honest with you—and then we’ve been best friends since.” 
“I’m a phenomenal kisser, excuse you.” 
You smiled and nudged her with your elbow. “Sure thing Birdie. You’re nowhere near the bottom of my list though. I think Malcolm is—remember him?” 
Robin burst into laughter. Steve looked between the two of you, extremely confused by the entire situation—it was written all over his face. 
“He used to—” You couldn’t breathe because of how hard you were laughing. The sentence was virtually unfinishable. “He-He would…” You tried to take a few breaths. “He would, uh, spray cologne in his mouth instead of using a mint because he thought that’s what it was for—” 
You and Robin collapsed against one another, back into your fits of laughter. This had Steve cracking up, not just at the fact that this man was stupid, but because you and Robin’s laughs were contagious. 
“She didn’t figure it out until the fourth date.” Robin blurts out, causing you to wipe away the tears in your eyes and shove her slightly. 
“Shut UP. I only kissed him like twice before then and it was just pecks.”
You caught a glance of Steve out of the corner of your eye, and he was looking right at you. Your breath caught in your throat for a moment and the two of you stopped time for a moment. The corner of Steve’s mouth quirked up into a smile before he broke eye contact and looked back at Robin. 
“Wood in the mouth takes a whole new meaning—”
“Oh please. Don’t even start with that—”
“I’m just saying your choices in partners–”
“At least I didn’t date a married woman–” 
“WHAT.” 
Your eyes widened and you looked at Steve. “She didn’t tell you?”
Robin started hitting your arm. “No. I. did. Not!” 
You laughed and used one of your hands to shove hers away from you. “It was like a three-month relationship but she realized–” 
Robin shifted tactics and clamped a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t finish the sentence. After a moment she made a gagging sound and quickly pulled her hand away. “Did you just fucking lick my hand?” 
You winked at her and looked back at Steve. “She knew this woman’s wife too. A month into dating Robs found out. Rough semester.” 
“Oh my god. Robin. Who are you? What else have you done that I don’t know about?” 
“That’s it. If you’re going to tell him all of my wrongdoings, I’m out.” Robin downed her drink and stood up. She kissed your cheek and grabbed her purse off of the chair she was sitting on. 
“Remember to wear protection there kid.” 
She rolled her eyes at you and turned towards Steve. “I know I—”
“Robs, seriously, it’s okay. Go have fun. I have been traveling all day. And I don’t mind talking to Y/n—” 
“Unlike someone here, I’m not going to abandon you, Steve, don’t worry.” 
Steve’s hand rested over his heart. “You’re too kind.”
Robin scoffed but was smiling the whole time. “Don’t wait up. Mom, Dad, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
And with that, she left you and Steve sitting in the bar. 
“So Steve, what else do you want to know about our girl??” 
The two of you spent the next three hours sitting at the bar, ordering drink after drink. Eventually, you and Steve were knee to knee, your head on his shoulder when you laughed too hard, trading stories about Robin. Nice didn’t even begin to describe the way his cologne smells when you would rest your head on his shoulder, giggling about something he said. Or the way his hand felt when it rested on your thigh as the two of you talked and talked and talked. 
Or when the two of you couldn’t stop giggling on the subway as you told him about the time Robin threw up on someone on the subway after you both had been drinking all day during last year’s Saint Patrick’s Day. 
Or when you stumbled slightly on the street, clinging to Steve as he clung to you. Enjoying the sound of his voice as he whispered things into your ear. 
Or as your back was up against the wall next to your door, you watched Steve’s hands use the key and unlock your door, except both of you forgot the fact that the bolt was also locked, meaning Steve slammed his face right into the door since it wasn’t moving. You clamped your hand over your mouth, dying of laughter, watching as Steve tried not to laugh at the door himself, instead smiling brightly at you, with his head against the door. 
Or when you both stood in the hallway of your apartment, neither one of you wanting the night to end, toeing the line. Eyes pretending they weren’t staring at lips. Hands fluttering around, almost grabbing one another. An inch away from more than just friends. 
______________________________________________________________________________
The next morning, you awoke to an empty apartment and a text from Robin saying that the two of them decided to “hit the town”. 
You took your time. Decidedly talking yourself out of everything that had happened last night, especially when Robin had left you and Steve alone. It was dumb of you to even think about potentially betraying Robin’s trust like that. She didn’t bring Steve here to add him to your collection of failed lovers—and even if she did, you had a sinking feeling that Robin would choose Steve. 
It’s not to say that she didn’t love you, adore you, and wish nothing but the best for you, but you wish to never even put her in that position. 
So instead, you decided to take your mind off of everything by spending the afternoon in one of your favorite little hole-in-the-wall coffee shops that was only a few minutes walk away from your place. 
You had managed to snag your favorite seat: a comfortable chair next to the window, and a plug. The plug was the best part since it meant you rarely had to get up and could just charge your devices without having to leave the spot you were in for potentially hours. And today was one of those days. The collection of mugs on the table grew as the hours of the day went on. By the time hour four had rolled around, there were about five mugs and two plates. 
That’s when the world did that thing again, when it decided to start ruining your day. First, your laptop was overheating more than usual, which was just plain irritating. Then, they had run out of the panini you were going to get for lunch. The final straw, however, was when one of your exes came waltzing up to the table. 
“Y/n, it’s been so long. How are ya?” 
You tried not to let a full resting bitch face take over, but to any observer, you were not happy to see the man in front of you. “Malcolm. Hey. I’m good.” 
“I’m doing great too. Mind if I sit? I just can’t believe I ran into you here.” 
Your breath hitched and that little voice in your head screamed panic!
“Um—actually, well, I come here all the time and you know that…Second, this seat's taken.”
“Well I’ve been here for about five minutes now and no one has taken that seat–”
“You’ve been watching me for five minutes? That’s fucking creepy Malcolm.” You tapped your finger against your keyboard nervously, eyes darting around, hoping someone would catch on to how uncomfortable this was for you.
“Please. That chair isn’t for anyone now is it?” 
“Oh I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”
It’s still unsure if you audibly let out a sigh of relief seeing Steve approach the table, and take the seat next to you. 
Malcolm crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Look bud, I don’t know if you’re trying to play the hero card here by swooping in to try and save some damsel in distress you don’t know just to get her number, but you can right fuck off.”
Steve turned and looked at you. “Is he bugging you, Y/n? Because I’ll fucking kick his ass…”
You smiled and placed your hand on top of Steve’s thigh under the table, where Malcolm couldn’t see. You gave it a squeeze, hoping to god he understood how grateful you were at the moment for him. “Steve, this is Malcolm…you remember…from the other night.” 
“Shut the fuck up—this is cologne guy?” 
You nodded. Throughout the rollercoaster of being approached by an ex who was kind of threatening you, inside your favorite coffee shop, while you were alone, your heart rate shot up. Your heart was pounding. But when Steve put his hand on top of yours, you thought your heart rate would skyrocket. 
And then the weirdest thing happened, it didn’t. Steve started rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, and your heart rate went down. If this was on purpose, you might never know, but this simple gesture from someone you have known for mere hours had your breathing even out and your heart rate slide back down to within reason. 
Wasn’t it written somewhere that love makes your heart beat out of your chest? 
That love makes your soul bleed and your eyes weep. Love is supposed to make you crazy and worship the other person till the ends of the earth. It’s supposed to be overwhelming and make you feel like you could burst just from how much love you hold within yourself. It was a disease, unable to be cured—a madness. It’s all-consuming, unforgiving, a fire that cannot be tamed. Something you willingly killed yourself for. Ended it all because the idea of losing it was a fate worse than death
What you’re feeling couldn’t be love then. That’s what you had decided. You weren’t going batshit crazy over the idea of risking your life for him or losing your mind over the thought that he might not love you back. It was just a plain and simple joy: sitting next to him, his hands on yours. 
Your heartbeat had found its way back to normal, and your mind began to refocus on the confrontation in front of you. 
By the time your vision refocused after the thirty seconds you managed to blackout, Malcolm was glaring at Steve but starting to walk away. Whatever Steve said, worked, and you looked over at him, confused. " I think I must have blacked out or something because how the hell did you get him to..." 
Steve shrugged. "If you missed it, you missed it." 
"You're joking right?" 
Steve shrugged and smiled. His hand was still on yours, but you completely forgot about it—
"What are you working on?"
—Til now. 
You begrudgingly took your hand away from his and brought it up to the keyboard of your laptop, clicking it awake so he could see what you had been working on. The two of you spent the next hour sitting and talking about your courses, which were all a bunch of nonsense anyway since you were a second-semester senior with barely anything to do. 
"You're taking a metal-welding class for credit?"
You smirked and nodded. "When I tell you college is a joke, I truly mean it. I kind of love it though. Robin, however, dislikes being outlesbianed by someone who is not a lesbian. But I think I'm getting pretty good at it too."
_____________________________________________________________________________
Two hours later, you and Steve found yourselves as the last two in the coffee shop, still talking about anything and everything you possibly could—wherever the conversation led you. 
When it was time to get kicked out, Steve helped pack up your things, and you both started the short walk back to the apartment where you ended up raiding the "delinquent Cabinet" as it had been affectionately named and properly labeled. 
By the time Robin got home from her shift, you and Steve had demolished a joint, several shooters, half a bottle of prosecco, and half a bottle of vodka. The conversation had never stopped, with the two of you always finding some way to stay touching to one another. You couldn't deny that the feeling of Steve calmed you down immensely, and the courage you were feeling from the past few hours helped with the want to have your hands on him. 
But when Robin walked into your apartment, you and Steve sobered up a tiny bit, deciding to leave some space between you both. You missed the way his hand felt on your calf, absentmindedly massaging it as the two of you talked about the difference between weed from Indiana and weed from a major city. 
“Hey you two…” 
“Birdy!” You exclaimed. Your eyes were fading away from the red of smoking, but your smile was lazy and your body felt heavy, but not in a bad way. 
“Ah, I see we broke into your stash?” 
You smirked slightly, and nodded. “Well if Mr. Harrington is going to smoke good weed, no offense to your friend back home, then he needs the best.” 
“Eddie sells good weed.” Steve defended his friend from home but it just made you giggle.
“Steve, that joint you gave me tasted like the equivalent of watered down vodka. It’s good, but it’s not the best. You can’t deny that mine was waaaaayyyyyyy better. Besides, it came from a pretty girl so it’s automatically better than Eddie’s.” 
Steve’s cheeks blushed slightly as he looked over at Robin. “How was work?” 
Robin’s eyes shifted between the two of you on the couch, but then settled on Steve. “How much did she have?”
“Don’t wanna know Birdy!” Your voice sang out across the room.
Steve shrugged. “Work?” 
She huffed and hung up her coat, admitting defeat on getting information out of a crossed-you. Robin kicked off her shoes and grabbed one of the bottles off of the counter–the one that was still half full–and joined the two of you on the couch. Robin managed to fit herself perfectly between you and Steve, causing you to frown slightly, but say nothing. 
“I almost punched an old lady but nothing new.” Robin took a long swing from the bottle of wine. 
“Was it that cunt Mrs. Defejeki?”
“Woah, language.” 
“What are you five?” You rolled your eyes at Steve’s comment and picked up the remainder of the joint out of the ashtray, trading the weed for the rest of the bottle of wine. You and Robin shared basically everything. There were always a few exceptions, but still. If you started a bowl, Robin would finish it. If Robin did a shot, you did a shot. And while you were both built differently, the mix of shit the two of you ingested managed to get the both of you to about the same place. 
Robin just relit the joint in her mouth, nodding at you. “You’d think she’d go somewhere else to buy eggs if she always has something fucking stupid to say about our eggs. Ma’am, no offense, but you’re in a fucking city. If you want fresh eggs, get a friend with a coop on a roof or some weird shit.” She took a long drag, eyes rolling back and her eyelids closing. 
You nodded. “Or just…leave the fucking city.” 
This caused both you and Robin to burst into a fit of giggles, causing the latter to cough a little bit since she was still inhaling. 
You felt Steve’s eyes on you the whole time, but it only made you warm and fuzzy inside…or maybe that the combination of shit you put in your body. But either way, his eyes were gorgeous. You couldn’t help looking back at him, trying to locate every single color that reflected off of his eyes in the dim lighting. It didn’t help that his eyes were redder than yours, but he was still just as stunning to you. 
Robin leaned in front of you, blocking your view of the gorgeous specimen across from you on the couch, and placed the filter back in the ashtray. “Now what kiddos.” She placed a hand on your thigh and looked over at you, a smile on her face. 
“Did you wanna go out? Because I’m a little decapitated at the moment.” 
This caused Steve and Robin to burst at the seams. You furrowed your eyebrows as Steve and Robin kept laughing at you. Everytime they managed to calm down a bit, they would look at one another and burst out laughing again. 
“What!” You grumbled, shoving your foot against Robin’s thigh, trying to get her to pay attention to you again. “Whattttttt.” 
“It’s—” She giggled. “Not decapitated–HA–Incapt—” She couldn’t speak, she giggled so much. “Fucxk Steve.” She heaved out. “How the fuck do you say it?” 
Steve, who was not much better than Robin at the moment, was wiping literal tears from his eyes. 
“Incoorperat—fuck—wait.” He giggled again, and you were sure a flame just washed over your body, leaving you with goosebumps. “In—Cah—Pass–ih–tay–ted.” 
He slowly sounded out the word like he was in the middle of an eighth grade spelling bee. 
You slapped Robin's arm. “I literally said that!!” 
Robin and Steve burst into another fit of laughter. 
The group of you continued to giggle, and talk over one another. All of you filled to the brim with smiles and laughter and stories to tell. 
At some point you had changed into your pajamas, most likely when Robin had decided to call her night and go to bed. You, on the other hand, had changed into your pajamas, and gone back out into the kitchen to clean up the mess you had made during the night’s festivities. Steve, who was still awake, offered to help you, like the gentlemen you were learning he was. 
The two of you cleaned the kitchen, talking about your childhoods, comparing the worlds you grew up in–their likeness, their differences. 
And somehow 11 pm turned into Midnight. And then Midnight became 2 am. And then 2 am had become 6 in the morning. 
You had spent the entire night, sitting on your couch, talking to Steve Harrington. 
Since it was early enough in the morning, you invited Steve to come and sit on the fire escape with you, and watch the sunrise.  
It really sucked visually when there was no sun to watch rise since the sky was overcast and gray, but that didn’t stop you from enjoying Steve’s company. 
The two of you sat in silence with one another. You and Robin had always joked about how much you hated domesticity, the thought of just existing with someone else for the rest of your life was definitely a thought that scared you. Especially doing things as simple as laundry or the dishes, eating your meals together, or sitting on the fire escape and watching the sunrise together. But this moment, with Steve, made your heart ache. You never wanted this moment to end. It was a new drug you didn’t know you needed. And now that you had it, how were you supposed to give it up? 
“I really appreciated last night–tonight—the past several hours.” 
You looked away from the street, and over at Steve. “I-...I really enjoyed it too.” 
He smiled softly at you, and you have no idea what came over you, maybe it was bravery. But you reached over and brushed some of the hair in his face, behind his ear. It was intimate, maybe too intimate for people who were supposed to be friends by proxy of Robin Buckley and nothing else. 
You could feel Steve’s breath hitch and for a singular moment you regretted everything. You regretted staring at him in the bar. You regretted getting coffee with him. You regretted telling him about your thesis. You regretted sitting next to him during your movie night. You regretted the movie night. You regretted staying up and talking to him for hours on end, wasting away the night until he knew almost every single thing about you. You regretted suggesting coffee on your fire escape when you realized it was six in the morning. You regretted brushing his hair out of the way. 
But most importantly, you regretted not putting your coffee cup down when you did because the hot liquid spilled all over your lap when you quickly retracted your hand and stood up. 
“Shit–Fuck. Sorry.” You watched as the liquid covered your bare legs and as the mug clattered across the fire escape, and off the edge, shattering on the ground below. 
“Shit–are you okay?” 
You were shaking your head. The coffee was fucking hot, that was for sure. And that was at least your excuse for the tears that sprang to your eyes. Especially since you really liked that mug too. Steve put his mug down and crawled through your window. “Where are your towels??”
Your hands covered your face as you vaguely mumbled something adjacent to ‘the closet’. Steve had no idea which closet you meant, so he grabbed the dish rag hanging off of the stovetop and made his way back across the living room and through the window. 
“Are you okay?” He handed you the towel and you wiped off the burning hot liquid. Luckily, you barely had enough coffee to kill you, so your legs were just a bit red from the quick extreme change in temperature. 
Robin, who had heard the commotion ran out of her room in a tired stupor and looked around, panicking. “Is everything okay?”
Steve looked back into the apartment at Robin. “She–uh, she spilled her coffee and the mug went over the railing and she’s not burnt or anything but—yeah.” 
Robin furrowed her brows and made her way over to the window. “Sweetheart, why are you up this early? It’s not even seven am.” 
You shook your head, and that’s when the thunder started. You aggressively sighed and made your way back through the window into the apartment, following Steve who had done just that moments prior. 
“I'm going to go take a shower.” You quickly made your way to your room before Steve or Robin could say anything. 
You grabbed your lotion and a hair towel from your closet, alongside your robe, and headed into the bathroom. Once you closed and locked the door, you looked down at your legs. The red was starting to fade away, thank God, and there was no sign of bubbling so at least your embarrassing blunder wasn’t going to give you physical injury—only emotional. 
Steve and Robin’s hushed whispers carried down the hall but you had no idea what the two of them were talking about, only that it was probably about you. You decided to ignore it and splash some water on your face. 
God, how fucking embarrassing was that? You weren’t one to get flustered by men, or women, or really anyone, but this? What the fuck was that? Spilling hot coffee all over your lap? 
And Steve had sprung right into action, could he be any more perfect? My god you were fucked. 
It was at that moment that you realized you left your phone on the kitchen counter. It’s not that you couldn’t shower without music, but you preferred not to. So now you have to contemplate the dilemma of going out and facing your best friend and her best friend who were definitely talking about you, while you were only in a robe, or do you just suffer in silence. 
When you heard the front door slam shut, you had your answer. Assuming that both of them had decided to go out to breakfast and give you some space, you shoved your clothes into the hamper in the closet in the bathroom and opened the door. 
And there was Steve, with his hand up, as if he was about to knock. “Hey—sorry.” 
“Oh–” You took a step back, and only looked at his face for a moment, a little too embarrassed to really make eye contact with him. 
“Sorry, it’s just—I–uh, Robin went to get us some breakfast from this place…She wanted me to let you know, and you had been in there a while without the water running so I–uh–wanted to make sure everything was okay.” 
You looked up at him and almost swooned at the sincerity in his eyes. Could this man be any more perfect? Did he want to talk to you? You had only been in the bathroom for like, five minutes without turning on the water? 
“I’m fine Steve, thank you for asking. I wanted to…um…apologize for earlier when I–” 
Steve shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize, seriously–”
“No I so do, I literally made a move on my best friend’s best friend, and almost completely unwarranted too–”
You were cut off by the feeling of Steve’s lips on yours. 
It was like heaven was on earth, and every single one of those thoughts came back to your mind. Steve’s lips—having coffee in the mornings with him. His eyes—getting dressed up and going out to lunch and running errands with him. His smile—making dinner with him and doing the dishes afterward. His hair—the sight of his head between your legs—
He pulled away the second he realized you weren’t kissing back and started to follow down the same path of panic you had just been on. “Shit—I read that so wrong–fuck, I didn’t—”
You pulled yourself out of whatever stupor you were in, grabbed Steve Harrington by the back of his neck and shoved his face into yours—lips crashing against the others. His hand flew around your waist and pulled you up against his body. 
He tasted like mint chapstick, something you weren’t sure you were expecting, but it just added to how attractive he was. 
Steve slowly walked you backwards, until the back of your thighs hit the counter. Steve all but picked you up while you hopped backward onto the counter. He was once again your knight in shining armor when he held you in place, saving you from toppling over into the sink. You laughed against his lips, causing him to smile and pull away for a moment. “You’re clumsy aren’t you.” 
You watched as his chest rose and fell, just as quickly as yours. You pulled him into another first kiss, wanting to feel his lips again. “You have no idea.” You mumbled, wrapping your legs around his waist.
Steve moved his lips away, starting to kiss up your jaw, preening at every little gasp and inhale and sound you made. He squeezed your hips and moved your waist slightly, giving you the hint you needed to start grinding on him. His teeth grazed your ear and you let out a moan, rolling your body up against his. 
Steve let out a breath against your neck making your skin break out into goosebumps. Your right hand was clutching the kitchen countertop, while your left hand had made its way up his chest and on the back of his neck. Your fingers wove into his hair, yanking on it slightly as he continued to kiss lightly down your neck. 
Something you never thought would happen today was hearing Steve Harrington moan. It was one of the hottest sounds you had ever heard in your life, causing you to pull on his hair again just so you could hear it again. 
“Sweetheart, you’re killing me here.” He groaned against your neck and pulled you directly against him.
“So do something about it.” You sighed out gripping the counter tightly. 
You felt him smirk against your skin and pull away from you, much to your dismay, which you made known by your groan. "Steve please."
"Say it again Princess." 
Your eyes met his as you bit your lips. "Please." 
A wave of something came over your entire body at the look Steve gave you when spoke. 
"Anything you want, pretty girl." 
Something else you had never thought would happen today was the sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you on your bathroom floor between your legs. 
You had basically prepped for this moment since you were completely naked under the robe you were wearing, but the thought of a shower was now far from your mind. Steve kissed your thigh, causing you to suck in a breath, and grip the countertop impossibly harder.
He slowly kissed up your thigh, moving your legs so that they were over his shoulders. 
You moaned out his name, causing him to falter for only a moment. He groaned against your skin and squeezed your thigh with his hand. “Fuck me gorgeous.” 
You licked your lips, unable to lift your head from the way it was resting on the mirror. 
"Sweetheart, eyes on me." 
You moaned and inhaled, looking down at the man between your legs. His eyes were already on yours, as he slid both of his hands up, pulling you directly against his mouth. 
The feeling of his lips against your cunt made you let out the most strangled sound, trying your best to contain anything above a whisper. 
You could have cummed at the way he was looking at you, but just rocked your hips against his mouth, hoping for a bit more of the feeling of him. 
“Come on pretty girl.” He licked up your cunt, causing your body to involuntarily jolt a little bit. “I know you can make prettier sounds than that. I wanna hear them. I want the neighbors to know who’s fucking you like this–”
There was a knock on the front door, slightly frantic, but not panicked. 
“Hey, guys? I accidentally locked the door, can you come get it for me?” 
You let out a little gasp, your breath stuttering as you teetered on the edge of the counter and on an orgasm. Steve pulled away and kissed your thigh quickly. You leaned your head back against the mirror and just gripped the counter, coming to terms with the fact that your best friend just cock blocked you, and that Steve was no longer between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. 
“Hey, pretty girl.” He cooed, standing up and kissing you quickly. “I know I know.” 
You whined when he pulled away, the taste of you on his lips was not one that either of you would forget for at least the rest of the day, probably your lives. 
“I’m gonna turn on the shower and then go let her in—.” 
Your phone pinged with a text from Robin as Steve turned the shower on for you. You squeezed your legs together, trying to get any sort of release from the pent-up orgasm just sitting in your gut. 
“You wouldn’t do anything without me, pretty girl, would you.” 
“I could hurt you, Steve Harrington.” You muttered but nodded to his statement. 
He smirked slightly but then closed the door behind him and you heard him make his way to the door, to let Robin into the apartment. 
It wasn’t even 8 am and you hadn’t slept and the day was getting longer by the minute. 
_____________________________________________________________________
After that morning, you had somehow managed to miss Steve at every turn, causing your frustration to build throughout the day, especially since he was leaving the next night. 
And then, because of your classes, you managed to not see Steve at all for the rest of the trip, except for the few minutes where the two of you crossed paths, with Robin. 
The last time you were face to face with Steve Harrington alone for more than a few seconds was when he was tongue-fucking you on your bathroom counter. And it was pissing you off. 
But one day, a few days after Steve had flown home, your phone pinged. And when you saw that one Steve Harrington had started following you on instagram, you followed him back embarrassingly fast. 
The only thing that was more embarrassing then that was how quickly he dmed you after.
And suddenly you were attached to your phone: Constantly checking it to see if he texted you, smiling at your screen whenever his photo popped up, giggling at his cheesy jokes out loud. Your demeanor had completely changed. Instead of the consistent snark and attitude, you had a more pleasant and approachable demeanor. You would wake up early in the mornings and make breakfast for Robin before she was even out of bed. At the clubs, you would dance and drink with people, but never danced with them for more than one song, and didn’t take anyone home either. Sometimes you would even opt to sit there on your phone, texting Steve. 
But after three weeks of being on the outside of whoever was making you feel this way, Robin had enough. She was going to find out who this mystery person was, and how the hell they managed to make you act like this. 
“Who the fuck have you been texting?” 
You looked up from your phone, immediately clicking it off. “What are you talking about?” 
Robin scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’ve been on your phone nonstop for the past two weeks, smiling at it like some sort of lovestruck idiot, so who is it? Who are you smitten for?” 
“Pshh–I’m not—I think you’re losing it, or something.” 
“Is it a girl?” 
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. 
“So what’s his name then huh?” 
You looked away from her, staying silent. 
“You can’t pretend like you haven’t been smiling at your phone, or that you haven’t been drifting off into space…You’re literally doing it right now?” 
You blinked the images of Steve out of your mind and shook your head.
“You’re delusional—” Just as you looked over at Robin, she was on top of you, having launched herself across the room in an attempt to get your phone from your hands. Unfortunately, Robin launched herself at you with such force that the two of you toppled over and she managed to grab your phone, snatching it from your hands. 
Right before she could slither out of your grasp, you grabbed her ankle and yanked her back towards your body. “Robin give me my PHONE.” 
This was an unfortunate situation for many reasons. The first was that Robin escaped your grasp and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The second was that your phone unlocked with her face so it was relatively easy for her to snoop. The third reason happened so painfully slowly. You heard her laughter die off and silence take over. She had discovered who you had been texting.
And you just stood across from the bathroom door, leaning against the wall and bouncing your leg, eyes wide, heart beating loudly, as you could feel Robin looking through everything you had been saying to Steve. 
She had been your best friend for years so she knew how you texted when you flirted, and to make matters worse, she knew how her other best friend texted when he was flirting too. 
Suddenly the door opened quickly and Robin handed you your phone back. 
“Birdy—”
She shook her head. “I’m going to go for a walk.” Her voice shook a little bit and all you could do was stand there, knowing better than to try and prod her. “I’m not—I just need to think and then we can talk about it.” She muttered. 
You watched as Robin grabbed her coat, her purse, and her airpods before you watched the door slam shut. 
The next thirty-seven minutes were filled with silence and a lot of panic cleaning. Suddenly your bed had new sheets in it, you had taken out the trash, the dishes had been done, you swept the kitchen—and even lit that midnight citrus candle Robin loved so much. 
Ever since becoming friends, you and Robin simply didn’t fight. The two of you got along so well that it felt like you were made for each other sometimes. But right now? Now was not one of those times. Instead, you paced around in literal circles because the guilt of non stop texting Steve was eating you alive. 
But it’s not like you did anything wrong either. The two of you had only been texting and nothing more. Sure it was almost every second you possibly could and he did take up all available space in your head, especially since the two of you never got around to round two of your bathroom scene—let alone finishing the first session.  
You were not dating Steve Harrington. You swore to yourself you wouldn’t do anything else without Robin’s knowledge and consent of the issue in the first place. 
You looked up when the door closed, making eye contact with your girl. In her hand, she had a brown paper bag and a drink carrier carrying her favorite drink in it, alongside yours. You smiled at her, hesitantly because she really could have thrown the drink in your face and you would have accepted it. But instead, Robin gestured towards the balcony and you nodded, grabbing some napkins and opening the window so she could step out onto the fire escape. 
Once you both were through, you each sat in your respective spots, delegating the drinks and the pastries she had picked up on her way home from whatever path she had taken herself on. The two of you did this in complete silence. At first, it was nerve-wracking, but the peaceful knowledge of the fact that you both could move in sync with one another felt good. 
You both sat and watched the people pass by, taking sips of your drinks, and taking small bites out of each of the pastries. You weren’t going to speak first—that much was obvious. 
After a moment, Robin sighed and looked at you. “You like him a lot.” 
Not a question, just a fact. 
You nodded. “Yeah…” 
“Hmm.” Robin’s mouth twisted, but not into anything malicious. She looked down at her hands. “I wish you told me you liked him sooner, because he clearly—uh, he clearly likes you back.” 
Your cheeks tinged with pink, and your hands rubbed at your cheeks, trying to hide the fact that there was a blush on your face. 
“I wasn’t going to do anything about it unless I talked to you first Birdy—” 
“I know.” 
“And neither was he—”
“I know.”
“And honestly Robin, I really do like him, and I was pretty sure he liked me back. I mean we spent an entire night out here talking and talking—I’ve never talked to anyone this much in my entire life. And he thinks I’m funny and actually answers my texts and I—I just….”
“I know.” 
You looked over at her. Your mind swimming with thoughts of Steve and Robin. It was bringing you to the verge of tears since no matter how big a crush on someone was, you would never let it come between you and Robin’s friendship. 
Robin took your hand in hers and shook her head. “It’s okay. I promise.” 
“Really?”
“Yeah–I mean. I had to think about it and at first, I was really mad, like pissed, because I thought you two had been seeing each other behind my back—which obviously I know you weren’t—and then I realized how fucking smitten you’ve been since he was here. I mean your attention was basically in Indiana.” The two giggled a little bit, a tear breaking free from your eye as Robin continued. “But you weren’t. You were still my best friend and you didn’t even do anything because you cared about me? And I’m not exactly thrilled that Dingus has won your heart over me, but I also wouldn’t not recommend him, if that makes any sense.” 
You nodded. “Birdy I–” 
She squeezed your hand. “Really. It’s okay. I’m honestly just mad about the fact that he’s answering your texts. He’s the fucking worst at texting everyone else so it must mean he really likes you. I’m extremely jealous…” 
You laughed again, just enjoying Robin’s goodness. 
“Besides, I feel like it gives me the upper hand for a question I’ve been wanting to ask. Wanna go to Cowland with me in a few weeks? The kids have been dying to meet you and they’re graduating from high school and I was going to go back anyways but since I know you probably want to see Steve again–”
“Robin. I’ve been bugging you to take me to Cowland for literal years. I’d be so down to go, not just because Harrington is there.”
The two of you shared a hug, arms wrapped lovingly around the other, squeezing almost all the air out of each other’s lungs. 
_____________________________________________________________________
Finally, the semester had ended, and it was time for Robin to go home and visit her kids. You and Robin had both walked across the stage, receiving your diplomas in your respective fields, both of you with Magna Cum Laude cords around your necks, plus a few others. Steve couldn’t make it up to the city that weekend, which was a little upsetting to Robin at first, but all was understood. 
The two of you had signed a lease for another two years, deciding that you both wanted to stay in New York City, and you both wanted to live with each other. This was really exciting for both of you, but was causing a serious amount of guilt for your best friend. 
"Robin, it's not bad news. I know I'm biased, but it's incredible news that you have a job, and you have a place to live. and Yes—-don't cut me off—Yes, it's sad because it's officially going to be your permanent home, but that's, like, that's what growing up is." 
"When the fuck did you get so...so....wise?" 
You shrugged and looked over at her with a smile. 
Since Robin didn't have a license, the two of you patiently waited at the airport for Steve to arrive. He had no idea you were suddenly in the great state of Indiana. You had never been before, and Robin had told you not to get your hopes up—but part of you was excited to see where your best friend grew up, where she was before this chapter of your lives. 
You hadn't told Steve that you were in state, at the request of Robin, since she had some sort of plan in her mind. You knew that the first step was gauging Steve's reaction to seeing you at the airport with her, which made no sense to you, but you kept your mouth shut since this was her home turf. 
A maroon BMW pulled up in front of the two of you, and you could say you were surprised by Steve's car of choice, but you would be lying. It's not that he read as a rich person, but Robin had one time told you his parents were loaded and you had laughed her off. Seeing how nice this car was, you wish you could take it back. 
Steve pulled up to the two of you and rolled the window down. "Do you actually need help with the luggage or can you—" The second he saw you, he lost track of his sentence. Eyes roaming over your face, your body. Why did it feel good to be looked at like that? 
"You're here." 
You gave him a nervous smile. "That is true, yes." 
The corner of Steve's mouth tugged up into a smile, and the two of you continued to look at one another, enjoying the fact that you were finally in each other's company again for the first time in over a month. 
Robin snapped a finger in front of your face. "Good grief you two, let's get moving. I'm not standing out here in the sun all day because we stunned Steve into silence with your presence—-and to be fair, if you surprised me, I would be shocked into silence too by how excited I would be— pop the trunk Steven— to see you, but this is not the time. I want to get on the road as quickly as possible." 
Steve snapped out of the trance between you both and popped the trunk of the car. He quickly got out of the car and moved around it to grab the luggage from you, and Robin, to put into the trunk. 
"You suck ass, Harrington. You'll get out of the car for her, but was gonna make me put my bags in the back myself." 
Steve rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, almost like an exasperated mother. "Robs, seriously. You know I would have gotten out to help you." 
"I'm sure you would have Steve. I'm sure." 
"You're not even in Hawkins and you're being a pain in my ass." 
The two of them continued to squabble, making their way into the front of the car while you slid into the back. It was the sort of friendly banter that you could get used to. 
And you did because, after about ten minutes into the drive, you had completely zoned out and watched as the roads turned into fields. You had never seen such flat land before, it was... bizarre. The world felt like it was supposed to have things reaching towards the sky—trees, skyscrapers, mountains—but not here. It was tall grass and nothingness. But it wasn't a bad feeling, just different—something almost serene about the vastness of it all. 
Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to be grounded, but you couldn't speak to that since you had literally run away to the city to live in the sky and aim for the stars. 
Your introspection about the human condition of reaching for the stars was interrupted by Robin. 
"Right Y/n?" 
"Mhm." 
"Were you even listening?" Steve huffed. 
"To be so honest, I have no fucking idea what you said birdy. Not one clue." 
Robin groaned and turned around in her seat to look at you. "How long have you been tuned out; I don't know how much of this I can restate." 
"Basically since we left the city." 
Robin groaned again: way louder, and with a lot more dramatics. "I'm not explaining this again. You agreed with me regardless, so it's the truth." 
Steve looked at you through the rearview mirror and smiled at you. It was one of those smiles that could make a girl trip over her own feet, and it was directed at you, making your insides melt. Steve had clearly been out in the sun since he was a little tanner than you last remember, and he had a small swatch of freckles across his nose and cheeks. It was adorable. 
"Oh! Oh! We're almost there!" Robin exclaimed, and you broke your eyes away from Steve's to look at the old sign she was pointing to. 
Hawkins - 5 Miles
"Five minutes til you enter a literal hellscape." 
Robin swatted Steve's arm and smiled back at you. "It's not that bad I swear. Like sure, it's a bit of a Cowland, that much is true, but—-"
"You don't have to justify Cowland to me Birdy. The only thing you have to justify is the fact that we have been on the road for almost an hour and I have yet to see a single cow. Now that's just ridiculous." 
Robin smiled at you and turned back around, facing the front again. She reached over and snatched Steve's phone (something you realized was a habit with everyone) and opened his Spotify, scrolling until she found the right song. She cranked the volume up and rolled the windows down, screaming along the words to Everybody Wants to Rule the World. How fitting. 
You rolled your window down and enjoyed the feeling of the wind on your face. While you had never been to Indiana before, or most of the middle of the country, something you definitely loved was how fresh the air was. No buildings or mass amounts of cars were polluting the air—just the grass and trees. 
Steve looked in the rearview mirror at you again, and you looked up, feeling his gaze on you. You could see the glimmer in his eyes as he looked at you. The pure joy that you were here. And you knew it was going to be a good two weeks here in Hawkins. 
That was until it rained for three days straight, and you and Robin were basically stuck inside her room with nowhere to go. Robin's parents were kind enough to lend you their cars when they got home from work since Robin didn't drive and you didn't have a car, but that meant that if either of you wanted to go anywhere during the day, you had to bike or walk and neither of which, in the rain, was really ideal. You could always wait for Steve to get off of work, but by then you'd have Robin's parent's car so you were stuck.
But on the fourth day, you woke up to the smell of petrichor and a shining sun peering through the curtains. This was perfect because of you and Robin's strict itinerary. 
Friday Day: Exploring the town/Lovers Lake
Friday Evening: Graduation 
Friday Night: Grad Party
When Robin told you that you were spending your day at Lover's Lake, you thought she was actually going to murder you since there were no real places named that, but when the two of you were picked up by Steve to head to the lake, you found out it was, in fact, a real place. 
It was actually kind of pretty, considering it was surrounded by woods. You were calmed by the sense of height within the area from the trees, but the actual visage of the lake was beautiful, and the sun reflecting off of that made it feel a bit more magical. 
You were decked out in that same hoodie from the other day, as well as your favorite pair of shorts, both of which were covering up your favorite bathing suit. Swimming was enjoyable, but you weren't sure if today was a swimming type of day or a lounging in the sun type of day. 
Either way, it was a 'try-not-to-stare-at-Steve-Harrington' day. 
Your chauffeur started to help two other guys around his age, set up a picnic blanket, secure an umbrella into the sand, and set up the speaker for the music.
Nancy, the girl you had yet to be properly introduced to, got out of the car she drove here in with one of the boys, and walked over to you, a bright smile on her face. 
"Hi! I'm Nancy, it's so nice to finally meet you. Robin hasn't shut up about you since you first met at college." 
Your face lit up and you tried to cover up the smirk on your face. "Since we first met? Damn Birdy, I had no idea..." 
"Thanks, Nance, now she's not going to shut up about it for fucking weeks," Robin mumbled, slinking off to go grab more things from Steve's car. 
"It's really nice to meet you, Nancy. I've heard a lot about you too." You smiled and shook her hand—it felt a little serious for a meeting, but you got the sense that was just how Nancy was. 
"Did Robin add your songs to the playlist? It gets really varied at times, but it's the only way we figured out to let each person be happy with the music if we all put fifteen songs on there, and then hit shuffle." 
You shook your head, really confused about what this girl was saying to you. Nancy handed you her phone and scrolled through the playlist, showing you everyone's music picks, and explaining it in further detail. When you finally understood, you paused. "So can I add anything? No questions asked?" 
Nancy nodded, smirking at the slight twinkle in your eyes. You added yourself to the playlist and handed her back her phone. "I'll add them before we start the playlist so that way they're in there fair and square." 
Nancy nodded and then looked over at the boys. "So! You've met Robin, and obviously Steve, has Robin introduced you to anyone else yet?" 
You shook your head 'No' and Nancy took your hand and dragged you off into the sand towards the gaggle of boys all staring at the umbrella since it was not as sturdy as they thought it would be. 
After a single gust of wind, it had knocked right over. 
"Nance there's no need to man-handle y/n—-" 
Nancy rolled her eyes and stopped short of the group. "Go get some rocks Steve, and pile it around the base, I'm pretty sure we went over this last summer..." 
"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure it ended up not working in the long run there Wheeler." The long-haired guy crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow. 
"Do they always give you this much lip even when they're wrong?" You half-whispered to Nancy, causing the two of you to try and cover your laughs. 
"Y/n! You're supposed to be on my side here." Steve threw his hands up in the air before they landed on his hips. 
"You look like a mom." You blurted out, causing yourself and the rest of the young adults to laugh together. Except for Steve, who was fake fuming, but really just at a loss. He really didn't think he looked like a mother but if a girl he had hung out with for no more than three days thinks so, then he might as well be fucked. 
"Where did Robin find you?" 
You looked across the group to the guy with longer hair, a tight tee with some sort of skull on it, and black bathing suit shorts. He was attractive, that was sure enough, but he definitely wasn't the pretty boy Harrington wanted to take a bite out of. Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Take a wild guess." 
"Touché. So. More importantly, what are you adding to the playlist." 
You shrugged. "You'll find out. I'm guessing you're Eddie." 
"In the flesh." He did one of those bows that was reminiscent of a movie from your childhood—it was really fucking nerdy.
"And so you must be Jonathan." Your tone shifted, slightly nicer, less of a bite to it. It stumped Steve, watching you clearly figure out and adapt yourself to the person you were talking to, but never being one to actually hurt the other person, just tease lightly. 
Jonathan nodded, his arm was already around Nancy's shoulder, and he gave you a small 'Hey". 
Robin shouted over at the group for help with all three of the coolers, and you watched Jonathan and Nancy go over to help her with them. You helped Eddie and Steve set the umbrella again (this time properly), and moved on to setting up your towel and bag. 
Steve placed his towel on the other side of yours and sat down on the ground next to you. Eddie had moved on to setting up his area around the picnic table, reorganizing coolers, and setting up the various snacks for the group throughout the day. 
"So..." 
You turned and looked over at Steve, who was looking right at you, a brightness in his eyes that the sun couldn't match. It looked right, like it was supposed to always be there. 
"So..." You responded, smiling back at him.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" 
You sighed and leaned back on your hands, looking out over the water. "Robin thought that it would be a good...test of character, I think is how she put it. She, uh, got a hold of my phone a few weeks ago, and made the connection about why I had been so..." 
Steve bit his lip. "So...?" 
You rolled your eyes. "I'm not gonna tell you if you're going to be a jerk about it." 
Steve held his hands up, "I swear I won't be." 
"Fine." You huffed and looked down at your legs. "Why I was so...attached to my phone, and blushing all the time, and why I kept smiling when I would get a text....and yeah." 
You saw as Steve's face flashed with a wave of emotions, all of which managed to stay just below the surface. One of these days you would have to just stare at his face all day so you could learn very little mannerism, every little quick about this man. 
"You, uh, smile every time I text you?" 
You pursed your lips but then nodded. "Yeah. I—uh, I do." 
"Hm." Steve nodded and looked out over the lake. 
"Yeah." 
You looked over at Steve just as he looked at you, causing both of you to smile again. Just as Steve was about to say something, you heard Robin call across the beach. 
"Babe!" 
You huffed slightly, the smile on your face becoming a little fake before turning and looking over at your best friend. "Yeah, babe?" 
"Add your fucking music so I can hit shuffle." 
"Aye Aye Captain." You gave her a mock salute and pulled out your phone, turning back towards Steve. 
"Am I seriously going to get judged for what I put on?" 
"We actually have a no complaints rule, since a certain someone would always bitch when his music never came on." 
Your face lit up with amusement and nodded, before looking down at the playlist and scrolling through the songs already on there to see what had been added already. 
"You really like the seventies and eighties, huh Harrington." 
He shrugged and smiled. "I think I could have easily been an eighties heartthrob." 
You rolled your eyes and shoved his arm slightly. "Yeah okay, sure." 
Steve feigned a gasp. "You don't think I could've been!" 
This caused you to laugh but continued to sort through your music, choosing the fifteen songs you felt like you wanted to hear most today. 
"I'm sure you could have Steve. I'm sure." 
Steve clutched his heart and fell backward. "You're killin' me here princess!" 
You hit his thigh, not hard, but just enough to get your point across. "Don't call me that, unless you're going to commit to finishing the job because you owe me...big time." Your eyebrows were raised expectantly, but your voice was low so only Steve could hear you. 
Steve smirked, and his eyes went a little dark for a moment before the sun returned them to their caramel color. "Trust me, now that you're here..." 
"Good." You smiled and laid back on your towel, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your face and thighs, and enjoying the company of the smirking man next to you. 
And you both stayed like this for the next hour, only getting up when food was offered. Steve eventually left your side, deciding to go for a swim. You opted out but enjoyed the view.
“He’s something else…”
You turned and looked at Robin sitting next to you, nodding in agreement. 
“He really likes you.” 
Your eyebrows knit in confusion. “You’ve been talking about me behind my back?” Teasing her. 
Robin shook her head and smiled. “I don’t have to. I mean, I've known him for years, but he’s never been like this about any girl, not even Nance.”
“Steve and Nancy dated?” 
“They were the couple in high school. Did not end well, but the two of them are still good friends, surprisingly.”
You mouthed a soft ‘oh’. 
“But…I’m being dead serious Y/n, he’s never been so…chill, peaceful…I don't know—”
“Sure.” Nancy chimed in and sat down on the opposite side of you. 
“What?” 
“He’s just so…sure about you. Like yeah, he can be a cocky asswipe, but he’s always freaking out about whether or not something is right, or going the way he thinks it’s supposed to.” 
Robin nodded along while you tried to breathe evenly again. Not that you didn’t get those feelings from Steve, you absolutely did, but hearing about it from both Nancy and Robin at the same time was a bit overwhelming. 
“He just, He’s so calm.” 
“We’re not even dating.” You sighed, crossing your arms and looking out at the man in the water. He caught you looking at him, and winked at you, sending you a smile along with it. You waved slightly at him, returning the smile. 
“He hasn’t asked you yet?” 
“Nancy, it’s the twenty-first century, girls can ask guys out too.” 
You rolled your eyes at Robin and shook your head. “No, not yet. We’ve only actually spent about fifteen hours in each other’s presence, with one of those being the hour drive down from Indianapolis…”
“Holy shit, and he’s that….wow.” Nancy leaned back on her hands, looking out over the water. 
Plus we didn’t want to start dating behind Robin’s backs and have her hate us forever and ever. But you kept that thought to yourself. 
The man in question decided that he had enough of the staring from the group of girls sitting on the beach, and waded his way over to you three, before walking out of the lake. “Can I help you three?” 
Steve was literally dripping hotness off of his body. The sun backlit him, creating this holy look about him, and the water droplets slowly made their way down his chest and abs and down towards—You snapped your eyes back up to his face, where he was watching every single movement of your eyes, smirking slightly. It was fairly pornographic and would have you dragging Steve over to the car and fucking him senseless, but you’d settle for eye-fucking him instead since Robin was directly next to you, and so was Nancy. 
“Just questioning Robin’s girl here.” 
Steve’s eyes stayed trained on you and he raised his eyebrows. “Hmm, then why were all of you staring out at me huh?” 
“Well, Harrington if you must know...”
“–I must Robin.” 
“I’m just learning things. That’s all.” You tilted your head slightly, almost teasing him slightly. Your gaze was already enough to make anyone blush, but Steve Harrington wasn’t anybody. However, he immediately lost the shine of confidence at the thought of you, Robin, and Nancy talking about him. 
“Learning what…exactly?” 
You, alongside the other two girls, just shrugged, causing Steve to eye all three of you up and down, and head over to where Eddie was cooking up some lunch for you. 
Sighing, you fully laid all the way down again and closed your eyes. “I think I’m just going to lie in the sun for a while and internalize every little thing the two of you just said to me.” 
You didn’t hear as the two girls got up and left you alone. You also didn’t hear as someone else took his place next to you. You just drifted off into a light sleep, enjoying the warmth the sun was providing you so that you could just breathe for a moment and figure out everything that was going on inside your head. 
First off, you liked Steve. And Steve liked you back. This was obvious before the girls told you, but the confirmation was a plus. 
Second, Steve hadn’t mentioned ever going on another date, ever. You hadn’t even gone on a first one if you remembered correctly. 
Third, You were unsure if Steve Harrington wanted to actually date you, or even kiss you. Sure, you rode his face like you were in one of those bull games in the rodeo bar, and he clearly seemed to enjoy it. But the only time he actually mentioned getting physical with you was either while it was happening, or if you brought it up first. Was he actually interested in you, or just being a gentleman? 
This shit was fucking hard, that’s for sure. 
“Hey.” 
You hummed, letting Steve know you heard him. 
“They’re going on a walk through the woods, wanna join?” 
You shook your head, not wanting to get up from your spot on the towel. 
Steve was silent for the next few moments. You assumed that he was staying on the beach with you since the others grabbed a couple things and started walking off into the woods. 
“You’re not going?” 
“Nope.” 
You opened one eye and looked over at the boy next to you. He was looking right at you–a small smile flashed across his face. He was nervous. “I-I hope that’s okay.” 
“Yeah…Steve, it is.” 
“Good.” He hummed and smiled at you. 
_____________________________________________________________________________
Hawkins decided on having a Friday Night Graduation, and while at first, you were hesitant, you realized you’d rather have a graduation at sunset than have to wake up at the crack of dawn to watch kids you didn’t know walk across a stage. 
You had gotten slightly dressed up, wearing a summery dress that didn’t leave you overheating, but was one step above casual. Sitting in between Steve and Robin was definitely something to behold considering they wouldn’t stop whispering to you, pointing out their kids. 
The Salutatorian was one of theirs—a Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, as you found out. His speech was beautiful and even made you tear up a bit, which meant nothing since the group you were sitting with was all crying alongside you. 
Eventually, the graduates walked, and you watched your friends stand up and down, screaming and cheering for their kids each time one of them walked across the stage. You had learned all of them using a Quizlet, trying to make sure you didn’t mess up any names. So far, you had learned that Dustin Henderson was Steve’s favorite, with Max Mayfield being a close second. (from what you had heard, Max could easily be your favorite). Max was dating Lucas Sinclair, who was on the basketball team, which you found out Steve had been coaching for the past few years. Then, there was Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, and Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s brother. Mike was dating Elle Hopper, who was best friends with Max. But Elle’s Dad was getting married to Will’s Mom…
You repeated this little thing over and over in your head, trying to wrap your brain around what could have possibly connected all of these older teens to Robin since she and Steve didn’t even talk until high school, and Steve only dated Nancy in junior year and—Honestly, it was weird, considering you really couldn’t imagine twenty-three-year-olds hanging out with eighteen-year-olds, but you lost all your doubt when you saw how connected this group was—whatever had happened between them, bonded them for life. 
Eventually, the caps got tossed, the principal said a few words, and they were all dismissed. The small group of you waited off to the side, knowing that they were going to all talk to their parents first. Steve stood next to you, and placed a hand on your waist, leaning down to whisper something in your ear. “Tired yet?” 
You laughed softly and shook your head, keeping your head straight ahead because if you turned, you were going to kiss him right on his stupid lips. 
“No, but I am ready to start drinking again.” 
This caused Steve to laugh slightly and straighten up, but his hand stayed on the small of your back until a gaggle of kids in green and white grad robes came running at you all. 
You took a step back watching as hugs and congratulations were thrown out at all of them. It was heartwarming, truly, to see such a family in action. You swore you saw, out of the corner of your eye, Steve and Dustin having a lightsaber battle at one point. 
Robin took your hand and dragged you over to the curly-headed one. “Y/n, this is Dustin, Dustin, Y/n. The Roommate.” 
All hell broke loose when Robin announced your title. The children’s heads all snapped towards you and they started to crowd you, which wouldn’t have been as intimidating if you had met them all before, or if they were shorter than you, which a bunch of them were not. 
“You’re her Roommate?” “We’ve heard so much about you.” “Oh my god, we finally got to meet you?” “You’re a lot prettier in person.” “Where did you get that dress, it’s stunning.” “You came to watch us walk across a stage? That’s definitely a choice…” “I wouldn’t go to Indiana if I lived in a cool place like the city ” “It’s literally so nice to finally meet you.” “You’re like really pretty.” “How did you meet Robin?” 
“Alright Alright! Let the woman breathe my god.” Steve yelled out to the group, as he took notice of your wide eyes. It’s not that you were nervous about meeting them, it’s just that the wave of questions was a tad bit overwhelming and unexpected. 
“Alright.” Steve sighed and looked at you. “Ready?” 
You furrowed your brows. “For?” 
“Well.” Steve started to point to each child as if he was giving you a speedrun introduction. “That’s Dustin, That’s Max and Lucas. Will, Mike, And that’s Elle. Am I missing anyone?” 
The group managed to give Steve a full unison moment of attitude. 
“You still look like such a mom Harrington.” You laughed a bit when he put his hands back on his hips. 
“God I knew I’d like you,” Max spoke up, causing you to smile at her. 
“It’s really nice to meet all of you!” 
They all responded back, at the same time, and then scattered. Whatever initial excitement was there had finally dispersed, meaning you weren’t the center of attention, and you could breathe again. Well, except for one kid, that came up to you. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you. Robin doesn’t shut up about you when she’s home.” 
“Good things I hope?” 
Dustin nodded, and suspiciously eyed how close you and Steve were standing. “All good things. But I’m surprised at the fact that you came to Indiana.” 
You shrugged. “Robin asked, so I came. Pretty easy decision. Best friends and all that.” 
“So, are you going to be at Steve’s later?” 
“What’s with the interrogation Henderson.” Steve raised his eyebrows. 
“I’m just asking her questions! She’s new! I can’t just..let her into the group—”
Steve scoffed, “As if you are the final decision maker in that?” 
“Uh, yeah. I am.” 
“Sorry Dipshit. The older half really like her, so she’s in.” 
“The rest of us have to vet her and you know it. Sure, Robin wouldn’t be friends with her if she sucked, but the rest of us don’t know her—”
Dustin eyed you up and down again. “I’ll allow it, but I still need further proof.” 
“Don’t be a dick, Dustin.” Max cut in. “She’s pretty, she clearly can put up with Steve’s shit since she’s willing to stand next to him this long. Why can’t there be another girl in the group?” 
Dustin’s mouth floundered for a moment before he settled on his answer. “It’s not that I don’t like her. I just….” 
“Dustin.” You smiled at him. “I’m not asking to infiltrate. I get it. This is clearly a tightly bonded family, and I’m not trying to just waltz in here and take a spot. But let me give you my qualifications and you can mull it over, yeah?” 
This amused Steve. Somehow, you had managed to entertain Dustin, and still manage to deescalate whatever the kid was thinking about. Dustin agreed to your terms and waited to hear what you had to say. 
“First off, unlike Robin, I have a license. I don’t own a car but I live in like the major city of major cities, so I don’t exactly need one. But I can drive. Second. I am not a current permanent addition to the group, at least presence-wise. I am like a fun aunt who will let you stay in the city with her when you want to get out of Hawkins, and I only show up at family functions to spice it up a bit. Third, I have traveled to several different countries in the past two years, which means I can and will bring you back goodies from other countries. Fourth, I know how to party correctly, which means I am at a good time, and I will provide references if you need them. Fifth, and finally. I am over twenty-one, which means, I can and will buy you things that you can’t buy yet. This includes weed from a major city where it is in fact better than the stuff you get here.” 
Dustin was taking all of this in, slightly bewildered by the fact that you literally just listed out your qualifications. 
“Oh. And a sixth one, thrown in for free, I can commit to a bit Henderson.” You winked at him before walking over to where Robin had been talking to Will about something. 
You felt Steve’s eyes on you but didn’t turn around, instead basking in the glory of dropping your over qualifications to win Dustin Henderson’s approval. You integrated yourself into her conversation with Will, enjoying the setting sun in the background. Tonight was going to be a good one, especially since you had decided that tonight was the night you wanted to talk to Steve about whatever was going on between the two of you, especially after everything that happened this morning. 
______________________________________________________________________________
The kids managed to convince Steve to let them throw a graduation party at his apartment. Now this usually wouldn’t be such a big deal, but considering that they all could drink and party now, the space almost felt a bit too small. Especially since they invited some of their other friends that you had not yet met. Which is how you ended up sitting on the arm of the couch, watching all of the kids interact with each other. 
“Hey.” 
You looked over and smiled once you realized who it was. “Hey.”
“Wanna, uh–go into the kitchen with me for a second?” 
You nodded and got up, following him past the decently sized group of people, and into the kitchen. It was not a spacious kitchen by any means, but there was a noticeably smaller amount of people, so it felt a million times better. You could breathe. 
Luckily for you, you had been drinking since before noon, and it was well on its way to being one am. The true sign of a lady is how well she day drinks. You were on the balance of buzzed and tipsy, toeing the line with perfect grace. This gave you the confidence to feel a bit better about the fact that you were someone who was extremely touchy, which Steve clearly didn’t mind. Your hand had made its way to his chest, and you were gently tracing shapes. 
“What’s up, Steve.” 
“I–uh.” 
You watched as his eyes flitted up to where the rest of the group was in his living room. He was silent for a few moments, which gave you time to really look over his face, and enjoy just how gorgeous he was. The curve of his lips. The slightly blush he always carried on his cheeks. The hazelnut color of his eyes. All while you were patiently waiting for him to sort through the words in his head. 
“I’m really glad you came to Hawkins.” 
“Me too.” You smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes once or twice for a bit of flirtatious emphasis. 
“Because I had a really really good time in the city with you.” 
You nodded, prompting him to continue talking. 
This caused Steve’s smile to grow, with what you were sure were tints of blush across his cheeks. 
“And I—well, I don’t exactly know what to do beyond this because you live in the city and I live here. And Robin might actually kill me if I ask you out, or if she found out the other things we started to get up to.” Steve was talking as quietly as he could, not keen on Robin finding out the compromising positions you had been in when Steve was in New York. “I know she has probably already said something to you but…I don't know. How do you feel about it because–” 
For the first time in over a month, you were able to actually kiss him, instead of just dreaming about his lips, his mint chapstick, the way his hands felt around your waist. You had placed your beverage down on the counter and cupped his cheeks with your hands, basically pulling his lips to yours.
That warmth from before came crawling up your spine and filled your body with light. Fuck, you wanted to feel this for as long as you possibly could. Enjoying Steve. 
But eventually, your proverbial luck would run out, since Robin cleared her throat from the doorway. She wasn’t exactly staring at either of you, but you couldn’t see her face since you covered your mouth with one of your hands, and wrapped the other arm around your stomach, looking away from her, losing all contact with Steve. Steve had quickly pulled one of his hands away, the other one still on your waist. You weren’t sure if Robin could see that one since your body was blocking it. Steve’s thumb ran up and down your hip, trying to calm you down. 
He could feel your heartbeat racing. How embarrassing was that? 
Even the calming sensation of Steve’s thumb rubbing up and down on your hip simply could not bring your heart rate down to a nice even 120/80. You’re pretty sure your Apple watch just pinged you about an increased heart rate. 
The only worse thing was that Robin had just walked in on you kissing her best friend. 
Her two supposed best friends kissed each other. 
“I–uh–I was going to ask you where Y/n went…but um, I can see you’re both a bit busy…” The sound of your name made you wince. 
Robin’s voice was strained, and she was trying to keep whatever emotions she was feeling at bay. Technically she had said this was fine, but she had never had to witness it or deal with it, in person before. 
 “Robin–”
“No, guys, seriously stop.” Robin took a breath. You could tell this was a bit weird for her, but she managed a brave face for the moment. “We talked about it. I’m okay with it. It’s just…It’s going to take me a second to get used to actually seeing it. Honestly, I just—I really wasn’t expecting to find you guys making out in the kitchen 
“Are you sure?” You finally turned your head and looked at her, more nervous about how she would react to this than anything else in your life. 
Robin smiled at you and nodded. “Really, actually, I’m fine. I am. I just, I’m going to go, um…I’ll be out back with Eddie if you need me.” She quickly left the room, leaving you and Steve alone again, to let out the breath both of you were holding. 
“I thought that was going to head in a way worse direction if I’m being so honest with you.” You muttered, squeezing Steve’s arm. 
“You’re telling me. I almost fucking melted when she first came in.” 
This caused you to let out a brief laugh. 
Steve sighed and rubbed his thumb up and down on your hip again. “I think she needs time getting used to it. We all do.” 
After another moment of staring at one another, the feeling of contentment made your heart swell, shoving some bravery forward and out your mouth. 
“I like you a lot, Steve.” 
He smiled. “M-Me too.” 
“Oh, so you agree? You like you a lot? That’s just what a girl wants to hear, damn.” 
Steve’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No no, I meant I Like you a lot, not that I like me a lot—actually—” 
“Steve.” You cut him off, smiling at him. “I was teasing. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” 
Steve couldn’t fight the smile growing on his face harder if he tried. You watched it slowly reach across his eyes and he shook his head. “I mean it though–a lot. I don’t think that even covers it.” 
You placed your hand on his arm and squeezed it. “Don’t flatter me too much or my ego will inflate like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters—”
“WHO JUST SAID GHOSTBUSTERS.” 
Dustin popped into the kitchen, looking around for the culprit. His eyes landed on you two and his eyebrows raised. “Robin’s friend Steve? Really? That’s the girl you’ve been–”
“Dustin. Enough.” Steve tensed up, cutting off the younger kid. 
“No no no.” You moved out of Steve’s arms and towards Dustin. “Please, Dustin. Tell me more, the girl Steve, what exactly.” 
“Dustin I swear to god—” 
You looked over your shoulder at Steve and winked at him, before placing a hand on Dustin’s arm in a very similar way to how you had just touched Steve’s arm. Now, you weren’t a manipulative person by any means. But men were easy to get information out of if you just knew how. 
You felt Steve’s eyes burning into you, watching your every move. 
“Dustin, do you have a girlfriend?” 
He looked at you weirdly but nodded. “Yeah. What does Suzie have to do with this?” 
“How do you feel about her?” 
Dustin’s shoulders detensed, and he tilted his head slightly. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just tell me about her.” 
Dustin, who basically never talked about Suzie anymore since he didn’t want to annoy the group, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. “Well! She’s the perfect woman. Smart, kind, snarky, bossy, gorgeous—hotter than anyone ever—sorry. But she means the world to me—.” 
You nodded along, listening to everything he had to say about Suzie, even popping in with clarifying questions, or asking how they met. 
“Wow, that’s a long time to be dating someone so young.” 
Dustin nodded and shrugged. “When you know you know.” 
Steve was just watching you, completely fascinated. There were things Dustin was telling you that he had never even heard before. But he knew you were up to something, he just couldn’t figure out what you were doing. 
You nodded and cast a quick glance back to Steve, who met your eyes. “That’s true.” 
Steve almost blushed at the way you looked at him when you said that, making your eyes soften for a moment. When you know you know. 
“Why did you want to know about Suzie?” 
“I saw you texting her earlier. I’m sorry she couldn’t be here for your graduation…” 
Dustin shrugged. “She’s coming up next week for about a month so I’d rather have her for a whole month than just a weekend. Besides, we’re both going to the same college so…I’d rather focus on what we do have than not, you know.” 
“You are very wise for a high school graduate Dustin.” 
Dustin shrugged. “Well, I’ve been saying that for years but now I have the degree to back it up….Alright, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ve accepted your application into the group here.” 
“Oh thank you, I was a bit worried there.” 
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Please, you passed the second I heard the word Ghostbusters come outta your mouth.”
This made you smile. “Dustin, one last question, and then I’ll let you go back to your friends—”
“Actually, I’d much rather be in here since you seem a lot cooler than half of the people in there.”
“I appreciate that Dustin thank you. But, my question is. Does Steve look at his phone like that? The way you were describing Suzie…” 
Dustin scoffed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen him so glued to a screen before–”
“Dustin...”
You shushed Steve. “Let the man continue Harington, God.” 
Dustin preened up a little bit at the sound of being called a man, making him continue. “He’s like…I’ve actually never seen him like this before. He’s always checking his phone but he’s smiling at it and laughing at things…oh…You’re good.” 
You squeezed his arm before letting go. “Dustin, I need you to know that I am actually very interested in your relationship with this girl and I do hope I get to hear more about Suzie, I really do. I also appreciated the information you just gave me.” 
“You’re the phone huh.” 
“You’re a Genius Henderson.” Steve glared at him, definitely trying to conceal the embarrassment he was feeling. 
“So Dustin, tell me more about the way he’s been acting.” 
“Henderson if you don’t leave the kitchen right now–”
Dustin took a step away from you. “I like you, a lot, y/n. But I think I’ve done enough damage for Stevie over there, so I’ll leave you alone.” 
You nodded and gave him a little wave as he took off back into the living room. You turned around on the spot, facing Harrington, who was all but embarrassed at Dustin exposing him. 
“You smile at your phone when I text you huh?” 
“Oh shut up, you knew that already.” 
“It’s nice to get confirmation.” Your hands clasped behind your back, and Steve took the opportunity to walk over to you and place a hand under your chin. 
Your breath? Left the fucking building, maybe even the whole state of Indiana. 
“Confirmation that I liked you?” 
He was lifting your chin up with just one knuckle, just enough that your head tilted up to look at him. 
“I feel like what we did in the bathroom was confirmation enough.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. “And if not, then kissing you a few minutes ago should’ve been.” 
You hummed, eyes closing, expecting his lips over yours. 
“You just like to tease me, huh.” 
“Steve.” You whined softly, leaning forward a bit, trying to capture his lips in yours. But he just shifted back slightly, not letting your lips do anything more than ghost over yours. 
“I like to tease too, ya know.” He muttered, his other hand sliding back onto your waist, pulling your body against his. 
You hummed, waiting for him to make his move, giving up the little control you had moments before since the prize was a kiss.
But no kiss came. Steve Harrington dropped his hands from your waist and chin, and stepped back, grabbing his beer off of the counter and winking at you. “If it’s a game you want sweetheart, I can play it too.” 
You groaned and watched as he backed out of the room, leaving you once again up against a counter and completely wound up. 
A few hours later, you had found yourself rolling a joint for the older group, basically giving Eddie a masterclass in the art. He was extremely doubtful about the fact that your weed would be better than his, but when he took his first hit, Eddie Munson coughed. 
The small group of you—Jonathan, Robin, Eddie, and Steve—all stared at him with wide eyes. You gently took the joint from his hand took a hit from it, and offered it to your right to Steve, who took a smaller hit than you. Since he had smoked with you before, he didn’t cough, much to Eddie’s dismay. 
Jonathan gratefully took it next, muttering something about Cali Weed, which you didn’t fully catch. Eddie turned to you, eyes extremely red. “Jesus Christ Y/n. What the fuck is that?” 
You exhaled slowly, impressing everyone, but Robin, with the amount of smoke in your lungs. “I say this with so much love in my heart Eddie—It’s good weed.” 
Eddie went to scoff but started coughing again, causing you to smile a bit. You felt the first hit in your face, always. No matter how many times, your face was always the first. It felt slightly buzzy, like a current was pulsing through your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You leaned against Steve, watching as the joint made its rounds. 
“Nancy, not a big smoker?” 
Jonathan shook his head, exhaling the smoke over his shoulder to not blow it all in your face. “Can hold her liquor better than any of us though.” 
“I buy it.” You smiled, resting your head against Steve’s shoulder. 
Robin stuck her tongue out at you from across the circle before taking the joint and taking her own hit. 
“So Y/n.” 
You hummed and darted your eyes towards Eddie. 
“You told Henderson that you’ve been to many different countries, like where?” 
“I don't think that would make sense even if I wasn’t slightly high and slightly intoxicated.” You laughed and shook your head. ”But, uh, I don’t know. I’ve been a lot of places. Do you want me to just start listing them until you find one you like? Like those little Rolodex things old ladies have?” 
Eddie nodded, taking the joint from Robin and taking another hit, this time not coughing. 
You sighed and yawned a little bit, taking the joint when it was offered to you. Instead of taking a puff, you passed it on. 
“Alright so, uh, let's see. I’ve been to about twenty states, and that includes Alaska. I’ve been to Canada a bunch. I have been to the Caribbean, so a bunch of those bad boys. Where else…”
“Serbia.” Robin listed for you, causing you to nod against Steve’s shoulder. 
“Serbia, Croatia, Montenegro, all three of which are gorgeous by the way. Which then takes me to Europe so uh those countries, plus obviously England, and Ireland, both Republic of and Northern. Then, let's see, France…”
“France was a good one for you.” 
You nodded. “Paris was good for me in many ways.” You made suggestive eyebrows at Robin who then burst into laughter. 
“Then tell us about it.” 
For some reason, you were starting to feel as if Eddie wasn’t your biggest fan. Now normally, if a man didn’t like you, you couldn’t find even a singular fuck to give, but this was bugging you. Maybe because he was so close with Robin. 
“Well.” your gaze hardened a bit as you looked at him. “I think I managed to spend a total of sixteen hours in the Louvre during my entire week in Paris. I spent another day seeing the rest of the Musees that I wanted to see, and then I did the rest of the touristy things the rest of the time.” 
“What about the Nightlife?” 
“What about it?” 
“Tell us about it.” 
“Eddie…” Steve warned, feeling you tense up as Eddie continued to poke and prod at you. His words weren’t sharp, they weren’t knives. But they felt like tiny little shoves across your chest. 
“Steve, it’s fine.” You muttered. 
“If you must know, France has good nightlife, but if you want to party, you go to Spain. If you want exclusive yet fun clubs, you go to Berlin. Anyone who’s traveled outside the continental US could tell you that.” Your jaw set, but the smile on your face was a bit devilish. “But Eddie, dear, what I get up to in foreign cities in terms of my sexuality is between me, my phone, Robin Buckley, and the whiteboard in our apartment.” 
Steve gasped. “That’s what those tally marks are.” 
Robin shook her head but then paused. “Well no, not...kinda I guess. But not exactly what you're thinking.” 
“I slept on your couch. You dirty dirty women.” He grumbled, removing his hand from your thigh, except it was just to lean back a bit, not to move you away from him. 
“We’re both extremely competitive when it comes down to the basics. Besides, Robin was the one who started it, she said that she used to tally how many swings and misses you would take at your old job.” 
Steve hung his head and laughed, causing the rest of the group to laugh alongside him. “Did she tell you what that job even was?” 
“Oh Scoops? Absolutely. We cut up that stupid fucking costume one year for her Halloween costume.” 
“That was you!?!”
You nodded and took a sip out of the drink you had brought out. “I’m also a costume designer.” You hummed. “Multi-hyphenate.” 
That joke was meant for Jonathan since it caused him to cough on the air in his lungs. “Resume building 101.” 
You mock cheers’d to that and rested back against Steve’s side, his hand moving back to your thigh. 
Eventually, it was just you, Robin, Eddie, and Steve left, sitting on the porch, enjoying the view of the stars. You had forgotten how stunning they could be since you had basically lived within the city for the past few years, not really going out to places where you could see the sky. It was just marvelous to you. 
Robin and Eddie stood up to go, meaning you also had to go. But Robin just kissed your head and whispered in your ear before you could stand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
You nodded, smiling at her and taking her hand in yours. “I love you, Robin Buckley. Marry me.” 
This caused Robin to burst out in laughter, and she nodded at you. “It’s a date babe.” She said her goodbyes to Steve and left with Eddie who was your ride home. 
The two of you sat together, with you listening as Steve told you about someone, the constellations that he knew, with you lying on his lap, while he pointed out the stars. 
“And that one is Orion’s belt. It’s probably the easiest to spot since it’s literally just three stars in a row.” He whispered, not wanting to break the silence the two of you had created. 
You hummed. “That’s the hunter right?” 
Steve shrugged. “You probably know better than I do.”
You managed to sit up and face him, lips seconds away from him. “And what would make you say that?” 
He shrugged again, no longer looking up at the stars in the sky, but rather at the stars in your eyes. 
Your eyes flitted to his lips quickly, silently asking for permission, which he answered by placing them against yours. Your body exploded like the sun, radiating the peace you had felt all those months ago at the cafe, and then again in the kitchen. Neither of you moved, just sitting together like two lovers would, slowly kissing one another under the universe. 
Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulled away, enjoying the sound you let out as he did so. You tilted your head slightly, leaning forward to capture his lips again in yours, but he dodged your lips and kissed your neck instead. His lips found under your ear and kissed there. “Wanna head inside.” He muttered. 
You hummed a positive response, unsure of how the two of you managed to make it inside and towards his bedroom. All you could focus on was the feeling on his lips, on yours, on your neck. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your hips, brushing up your thighs, tugging on your hair. 
But you found yourself backed up against his bedroom door. His body pressed into yours, kissing your neck. “Fuck me, pretty girl.” 
If that’s what he wanted you to do then who were you to deny him that much? Your head lulled to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you just moaned in response. Your legs were on the ground, but the only thing really keeping you up against the door was Steve’s knee, which had made its place between your thighs.
Steve’s lips quickly found that sweet spot right above your collarbone and he gently sucked on it, causing your hips to roll forwards and your eyes to roll backward. You inhaled and arched your back the more he sucked on it, nipping it to add some color to his mark. 
Steve felt as your hand snaked its way around his waist, your fingers cool against his skin. You tugged on his shirt, making him pull away slightly and rip his shirt off of his body. 
Both of your hands went to his chest, so you could run your fingers across it, feeling as much of him as you could. 
“Steve?” You muttered as he continued to kiss across your neck. 
He paused and looked up at you. 
“If you don’t do something in the next minute I’m locking you out of your room and fucking myself.” 
He chuckled, pupils dilating at the thought of you touching yourself. But he shook the thoughts away and pulled you in for a kiss. “As you wish, Pretty girl.” 
You hummed at his words, removing your shirt when he tapped on your back and pulled away from you for a moment. 
For some power beyond man, you wore a really cute bra today. It wasn’t lingerie, but it made Steve drool all the same, causing him to groan at the sight. He didn’t stop there though, slowly pulling off your shorts and underwear causing him to kneel down in front of you. You sucked in a breath.
The sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you to eat you out was becoming your new favorite view. 
He took one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, kissing up your thigh, slowly, looking up at you the whole time. 
He was looking for any kind of hesitation but instead, all he received was a “Fuck, Steve, please.” 
Steve smirked at you before licking up your thigh and gently nipping at it, causing your head to tilt against his bedroom door. 
Steve took his time eating you out. He teased you relentlessly, eliciting every single sound from you he could possibly discover, muttering how much of a “pretty girl” you were into your “pretty little pussy”. 
His lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked over so gently. Your hips shifted forward, back on the edge of an orgasm, waiting not-so-patiently for him to make you cum all over his face. 
“Come on baby girl let me taste you. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.” 
“P-Please Steve.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, one had in his hair, the other shoved against the door frame for support. 
The heat in your gut was winding up tighter and tighter, causing you to roll your hips, riding his face. Every time your body shuddered, you’d hit Steve’s nose just right against your clit, making you gasp a little bit. 
You moaned his name out, finding yourself closer and closer to the edge as he became more and more relentless fucking you with his tongue and with his words. 
He curled his tongue in the right spot, causing your body to snap. 
Not a single sound left your mouth as you cum on his tongue, back arching against the door, leg shaking as Steve held you up as you came. You felt his tongue working you through, and you could have sworn he moaned at the first taste of you.
Eventually, Steve slowly pulled away, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs. Your high was slowly coming back down and you muttered out a ‘holy fuck’, which caused Steve to nip at your thigh. Still sensitive, you let out a moan in response before yanking on Steve’s hair gently.  
He chuckled, the breath from his lips causing you to squirm a bit. What a sight you must have been: almost completely naked, covered in hickeys and marks, with a man wrapped in between your legs, up against his bedroom door. 
Steve slowly let your leg down, before kissing his way back up, enjoying every little sharp intake of breath, and every little moan that got caught in your throat. He made his way to your lips and it was dirty how much you enjoyed kissing him while he still had you all over his lips. It was obscene. 
“How ya doing pretty girl.” He muttered, arms wrapped around your waist, lips on yours. 
You were blissed out. Every time you thought about what you just experienced, your hips twitched a little bit, and all you could do was use your hands to shove Steve’s lips further into yours. His tongue ran across your bottom lip, and you happily obliged, opening up a bit more so he could taste all of you. 
When he pulled away so you could breathe, he went back to kissing your neck. “I’ve been dreaming about your taste for fucking months.” 
You swore you could orgasm a second time at that sentence alone. 
Steve’s fingers melted into your skin, and you were sure that there were permanent sun spots where his hand was, forever indicating where his hands should always be. 
You gently pulled on his hair once again, gaining his attention. “Steve.” You muttered, rubbing your thumb up and down on his neck. 
He nodded and reached over, opening the door to his room. 
The two of you slowly made your way to his bed, lips on lips, hands grabbing for skin, wanting more contact than what you had. 
By the time you were on the bed, your skin had become a canvas and Steve was the artist, his lips leaving little marks scattered across your skin like constellations. 
Steve pulled away for a moment, sitting back on his heels, causing you to sit up. You took over his task, slowly unbuckling his belt, looking up at him the entire time. Steve licked his lips and bit his bottom one at the sight of you. 
You slowly pulled it out of the belt loops and then threw it somewhere in the room. Your fingers made their way up his thighs before they popped open the button of his jeans. You could see the strain on the jeans from how hard Steve was, pushing against the fabric.
He groaned as you unzipped them before leaning back on your hands, watching him take them off. You could have sworn you started to drool when you saw his cock. 
His hands almost started you as he placed one beside your head, leaning down to kiss you. 
You didn’t realize that he had been wearing his silver chain this entire time, until it brushed against your collarbone when his lips connected with yours. You felt as Steve slid his knee between your legs, and his other hand cupped your cheek. 
“Steve I–” You muttered against his lips, but he cut you off by kissing you again. 
After a moment, he pulled away, hovering above you. “What gorgeous.” 
“Please.” You whispered, feeling antsy at the fact that you hadn’t felt him yet, that he was barely touching you. 
He smiled slightly. “You have somewhere to be?” He joked, kissing the corner of your mouth. 
You rolled your eyes. “What if I did.”
He kissed your collarbone. “By all means.” 
The top of your chest, above the bra. “Leave then.” 
You let out a shuddered breath at the feeling of his mouth above your chest and closed your eyes. 
“No?” He licked up your neck and nipped at the bottom of your ear. “Come on baby girl, nothing more to say.” 
“F-fuck.” 
He chuckled and slid his hand down to the front of your bra, undoing it with one hand. “Opens from the front…someone was prepping.” 
Your cheeks turned red and you shook your head. “N-no.” 
He shrugged and took it off of you. “Doesn’t seem that way, sweetheart.” 
Your nipples hardened at the cool air surrounding you both, and Steve put his hand on your waist, slowly sliding up your side until he could cup your tit in his hand, giving it a squeeze. 
You moaned at the contact but kept your eyes on the scene in front of you. It would be criminal to not watch Steve take his sweet time with you. 
He shifted again, making it so he was able to rest on top of you, and trace designs across your chest with his tongue. It flicked against one of your nipples which made your body jump up against his. 
“Sensitive?” 
“Shut the fuck up.” You muttered, one of your hands making its way to his shoulder and squeezing it tightly. 
He rubbed his thumb over the other nipple, flicking it. His tongue went to work, finding out everything that made you feel good, that made you moan. Once Steve had worked you up, he switched his attention to your other tit, his lips kissing across the valley of your chest. 
He was teasing you, watching every single movement of your body and while you wanted to shove him back down to clean up his mess, you couldn’t help it. You had never seen a sight so intoxicatingly hot. His chain dragged around with him, adding to the sensation of his mouth on your skin. 
Somehow from barely moving, you felt like your body was on fire, it was too hot. You felt too good. 
“Gonna take my sweet time with you, pretty girl.” He muttered, kissing back up your collarbone. “Gonna hear every single one of those pretty sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours. Yeah?” 
All you could do was nod and close your eyes, trying not to orgasm right then and there. 
He tsked and squeezed your waist. “I wanna hear it, baby. I want to hear you.” 
“Yes–yes–please god yes.” Your answer poured out of you before you could even think about it. The only thing in your head was Steve Harrington. Steve’s hips, his ass, his arms, his chest, his lips, his hair, his chain, his stupid fucking smirk. 
You felt him pull away for a moment, and you opened your eyes. He had gotten up and grabbed a condom, ripping it open with his teeth and tossing the wrapper somewhere. You watched as he slid it over his cock, which was already glistening with pre-cum, causing him to smirk. 
“I make you excited or something, Harrington?” 
He laughed as he made his way back over to the bed. “Something like that yeah.” 
You leaned up slightly and captured his lips on your own, enjoying the moment of just his lips on yours. 
He hummed and you felt him slowly guide himself to your entrance.  
You’d never spent the whole night fucking someone, until now, and even then, you weren’t sure what you were doing was just fucking one another. Sure it started out like that, but it evolved into something more the second Steve Harrington took your hand in his and pushed into you for the first time, whispering everything he adored about you into your ear. 
A sigh that could be categorized as relief left your mouth when he bottomed out, just letting the both of you get used to the feeling of one another. 
He kissed your jaw before slowly pulling his hips back out. 
You moaned into his ear as he started moving, your bodies moving in sync just like those cheesy books you had read told you. 
Feeling good has never come so easy to you. The way Steve Harrington was kissing you, so tender, with sure care made you want to freeze the world so you could stay here forever, with him. Your moans match up to each thrust, each inhale from when he kisses the sensitive skin right above your collarbone. 
The stars outside shined brighter for you, that’s what you would swear when telling your friends, that the universe quieted and the stars multiplied so you could see all of them as Steve made love to you, whispered how much he adored you, how he couldn’t wait to kiss you the moment he saw you at the airport. How he wanted to see what you tasted like the moment he first met you. 
It was overwhelming, only breathing in Steve, bodies picking up the pace as you simultaneously leaned over the line, ready to snap. 
You begged him, you needed him. His name falling from your lips with every single movement he made. 
His hand slid down your body and slowly started toying with your clit. “Come on pretty, let me feel you. I want to feel you. You’ve been so good for me, so fucking hot baby, let me feel you.” 
It snapped. The coil in your stomach snapped and you came, walls clenching down on him. Your mind went blank and your vision was filled with millions of stars that had floated in through the window and hung in Steve Harrington’s eyes. 
The feeling of you caused him to quickly follow you, hips thrusting into you, making you both ride one another’s orgasms. The sound of his breath, his moans, caused another wave to crash down on you. Your back arched, jaw quivering as your chest lost all of its air. The weight of his body kept you grounded but your mind was in the clouds. 
That calmness you had experienced before settled into your chest. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. There was no insatiable hunger, no need to go again (at the moment), nothing of the sort. Just a need to become inseparable, to become one whole again from two halves. 
And you could tell Steve felt the same from the way he kissed your cheek and lifted his head to look at you. You both felt it. The feeling as if this was right as if you were supposed to be here with one another, as if it was written in the stars, or read through some tea leaves—you were supposed to be falling in love with Steve Harrington. 
You leaned up ever so slightly, saying everything you possibly could with your lips against his, with no words being spoken. There was no need for them anyway because you just knew Steve felt the same. 
______________________________________________________________________________
You spent the next week, doing your best to split your time between your best friend, and your something new. Robin was actually doing quite well adjusting to the two of you since it felt like this had always been normal. 
The night before you and Robin were set to leave, Steve had taken you out by Lover’s Lake again, remembering how much you loved hearing about the stars. It was breathtaking. Truly the sky felt so vast and so big and you were standing underneath all of that with someone you truly cared about. 
The night didn’t end there. 
The two of you melted into one another in the backseat of Steve’s car. Skin on Skin. Stars collide in your eyes. Hands digging deeper than skin into souls. 
Yet after all of that, you were still too terrified to ask the question that had been on your mind since last Friday. 
What Now? 
“I had been, uh, thinking.” 
Steve’s thumb was rubbing against your hip, bringing your focus back to him. 
“And, uh, we have to…”
You nodded. 
“Steve I–”
Steve shook his head. “Let me get through this, yeah?” He whispered, almost like he was scared to even hear his own voice. 
“I-I have been searching for a way out of Hawkins for a while now. I love my friends, but now that the kids have graduated and-and are moving away, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” 
You brushed your hand against his cheek as a sign of comfort, not saying anything. 
“I don’t want you to think I’m latching onto you because you could get me out of here. I need you to know that’s not—I have never felt more sure about anything—anyone in my entire life than I feel about you. It sounds fucking crazy to say out loud, but I swear your touch literally brings my heart rate down. Hearing your laugh is like a fucking drug and, and, I want to spend as long as I can staring into your eyes, memorizing every single centimeter of your body, watching you as you stare up at the stars. I w-want that. I want it so badly. It sounds delusional since we’ve barely spent a full week's worth of time together. But speaking it out into the universe has fucked me over so much in the past. Anytime I’d utter any true want out loud, it’d, uh, it’d disappear. But I can’t—I think I’d go batshit if I couldn’t kiss you every day. What–what I’m trying to say is that—” 
You gently placed your lips on his lips, not having the words in the English language to describe the field of flowers blooming in your chest under the sunshine that was Steve Harrington. 
Steve smiled and pulled away after a moment. 
“You were gonna launch into the sky with the way your mouth was running.” 
Steve nervously laughed and nodded, closing his eyes. 
“I just don’t want you to think that I’m into you because you could be a way out of Hawkins. I need you to know that I’m seriously falling for you and I-I couldn’t be more in awe of you every time I look at you.” 
Your eyes started to water and you shoved his chest. “Fuck Steve. That was…That was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.” You muttered, burying your face in his neck, to hide the fact that this man just made you so emotional using minimal words. 
The two of you sat there, enjoying the company of one another, whispering sweet everythings in each other’s ears. It was everything to you. His hands on your body, his eyes locked onto yours. The thought of having to leave the next morning had you terrified since neither of you really had any idea how you were going to make this work, but you’d be fucking damned if you weren’t going to try. Steve was worth it to you. He was worth everything. 
And suddenly, because of Steve Harrington, you started to believe that you were worth everything too. 
832 notes · View notes
bardsandchangelings · 2 months
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Tag dump (Emilia)
With darkness my tears collide // Sinking into the shrine of me // I’m ready to be set free! (Emilia)
v; Stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters // Collected the pieces and picked out a dagger. - Clan
v; Rage // Seems to fill her heart with fire as she sings a flame // That burns her prison gates! - grief
v; mistakes that you’ve made will stay in the past // redemption is yours if you follow that path! - redemption
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juliewillruinu · 26 days
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"One Last Time" | Toji Fushiguro x Reader
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Pov: You're being married off by your clan which caused you to distance yourself from Toji, but how will you react to finding out he is also being arranged to marry another woman?
18+ MDNI
Dom Toji x fem!reader, smut, P in V, no protection, overflowing cum, slight degrading, cheating (kinda, but not really), ass smacking, and a bit of fingering. (I do not own the artwork above.)
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You promised yourself you wouldn't see him again. That your eyes would never meet his.
You promised yourself that you'd live a good life without him. You didn't need him any longer.
You promised yourself to do what was best for your clan. They were your priority.
You promised yourself that you'd be happy with your future husband. You'd learn to love him.
You smiled whenever someone mentioned the name of your fiance, a man, not named Toji. A man you've never met in person. You'd tell them, "I know I'll be happy with him. I've heard so many good things about him."
Everything was sunshine and rainbows until you heard the news that Toji was to be marry into another clan. You acted as if you were fine with it but you were not. Toji was yours. Your family could sell you off to another clan all they wanted, but to know that while you were gone another woman would keep him company, take over your role in his life, it saddened you, it pissed you off, it made you want to strangle yourself. You spent nights crying yourself to sleep. What were you going to do? Was there anything you could do? You could only choose family or love. In this time and age, you couldn't dare have both.
You promised yourself you'd never let his skin grace yours again.
Yet, here you are. Crying in Toji's arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck as his back is rested against the wall of your room. He entered carefully and quietly through your window. He heard how you shut yourself away recently, he knew why. He knew he had to comfort you. One last time.
You told him, "I can be without you, Toji."
"You told me you didn't need me."
You pulled away to bore your red orbs into his and spoke hastily. "I lied! I do need you so don't marry that woman. Don't hurt me like this anymore."
Toji yanked your chin, drawing your face close to his. In that moment, you saw an intensity in his eyes that was unlike anything you had ever witnessed before. His usual demeanor, so often marked by indifference and a seemingly impenetrable exterior, was shattered. The anger and vulnerability in his gaze revealed a depth of emotion you had never seen in him.
He had always seemed untouchable, as though nothing could truly affect him. But now, with you so close, everything was different. You were the only person who had ever seen beyond his Zenin lineage, who had looked at him not as a member of a powerful clan but simply as Toji. The memory of your words, "You're not a Zenin to me. I see you as just Toji," echoed in his mind, a poignant reminder of the rare connection you shared.
"You're not the only one who feels hurt by this. Do you think I like the idea of another man having his lips against yours?" His lips were dangerously close to yours. It made you shiver in anticipation. "Do you think I want him to touch what is mine? Just knowing you'll spend your wedding night with him makes me want to rip his head off. I can't let you go like that."
"Then don't." You said almost pleading. "Don't let him take me away, Toji."
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"Do you think he could fuck you this good, huh? I know all your weak spots. He'd be an amateur compared to me. Don't you think?"
"...yes, yes, yes..."
Your moans filled the room as you watched how mercilessly Toji was fucking you through your vanity mirror. His eyes scrunched close as his hand held one of your wrists down and held your hand in his other. His large, vainy cock had you stretched out, vigorously entering to hit your vulnerable spots and your insides, sucking him right back in when he pulled back. Sweat glistened off both your bodies as the force he was using was causing your bed to shake. The heavy storm outside kept your screams from being heard by the servants who might be walking around during these late hours. Toji kept his promise when he told you that'd he'd fuck you so hard you wouldn't be able to get out of bed for your wedding.
Red love bites were left on your neck and breasts while you returned the favor by leaving faint scratch marks on his chest and back and teeth marks on his shoulders.
You hissed as Toji's tip pounded against the one spot you enjoyed the most. You were close again. Just a little longer and you'd melt for him again. Toji must have gotten the message as his eyes fluttered open before making contact with yours through the mirror. You could see a mischievous smirk grow on his face. He could feel your insides slowly clamping down on his cock, almost ready to rip it off him.
"Who gave you permission to come yet?" Before you had a chance to answer, Toji had already pulled his cock out causing a slight "pop" noise to occur. His cum from previous rounds began to ooze out of you now that there wasn't anything to keep it inside. It practically left you whining.
"Don't take it out. I was s'close."
"Naughty girl, you have no shame do you? Tomorrow you'll be someone's wife and here you are drooling for your lovers cock?"
He took his teasing further and inserted his index finger which he pumped back and forth against your walls. He wouldn't even give you at least two fingers, not that it would have been enough to help you finish, but it would give much better results than one finger and Toji knew this well.
"Toji, put it back in...please."
"Do you want it that bad?" You nodded frantically. "Then go ahead take it. Milk it, make yourself cum on it, but you'll be the one doing all the work."
You sat up seeing Toji lay his scratched back against the bed before getting on top of him with your shaking legs. You weren't used to being on top and his posture made it seem as if he'd have you do all the work, but you didn't mind. If he was allowed to prove to you that no man could fuck you the way he could, it was only right to prove to him that no woman would ever be good enough for him unless it was you.
One of his hands traveled up your thigh, fingers caressing your supple skin while the other attempted to align his cock to your entrance. His hand went to your hips, ready to help ease you down on it only to be met by your boldness as you slammed yourself down on his thick length. He threw his head back, grunting as your insides molded around him perfectly causing his cock to pulsate in excitement. His large hands gripped each side of your bum, begging for you to move already. You placed your hands on his toned stomach to keep yourself balanced and began to move up and down. You took your precious time, taking it nice and slow. Toji shouldn't be the only one allowed to tease.
"What do you think you’re doing?"
"Teaching you a lesson from earlier."
"Ah!"
He growled giving your ass a hard smack that left a burning sensation, "don't be a brat."
'You're the one acting like one,' you said to yourself before you picked up the pace. Each time you move down his cock the skin of your bum and his shaft made loud slapping noises that left his gulping.
"Fuck, just like, princess. So fucking tight. You like that don't you?"
You met another slap on your ass when you didn't respond fast enough.
"Yes! It's the best, Toji! It's so fucking good!"
The bed creaked underneath the both of you, his cock hitting every spot imaginable. You could feel his cock start to swell, he was close just as were you. He pulled you down against his chest, wrapping a arm around you waist to keep you attached to him while his other hand pushed down on your bum as he jerks his hips up. There's no doubt about it. You were so cock drunk that even your moans sounded incoherent. It felt like your mind was elsewhere while the center of your stomach tightened.
His hot breath brushed against your skin, "Tell me who you love. Come on, tell me, little whore."
"You! I love you! Fuck, Toji. I love you." He hungrily smashed his lips against yours giving you no time to breathe. His tongue wrestling against yours, seeking for its submission to him. You fisted at the pillows near his head as his cock was destroying your insides. Your thoughts only focused on Toji as he nipped at your bottom lip.
"I can't hold it anymore~"
"Fuck, me too. Come on, princess. Give it to me and I'll reward you."
Toji, in the throes of passion, drives his hips firmly against you one last time. His release is powerful, filling you with a warm, thick sensation as his cum spreads inside you. You feel him pulse and release, the heat and pressure intensifying as he finishes.
As he remains inside you, the sensation of his cum beginning to overflow adds a heightened sense of fullness. Your body responds instinctively, your lower body jolting slightly as the sensation of his release overwhelms you. The tightness in your stomach starts to ease, replaced by a warm, satisfying relaxation.
•••
You and Toji laid sideway near each other, your bodies hidden underneath the silk sheets. You could feel his warm lips press against your head as you buried your face in his chest. His strong hand move up and down your back. His touch, his scent his breathing, they were all so comforting. How could you possible live without this man?
"Toji, let's run away. Tonight. Just me and you. Let's never come back here." Your spoke with a straight face, Toji rested his chin over your head, chuckling at your serious tone.
"What about your clan, hmm?"
"..Screw them.."
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236 notes · View notes
eccentricallygothic · 1 month
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The Interrogation
Pairing: Captain America!Steve Rogers | Villain!Reader.
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Description: Steve had finally caught you, and he knew just how to make you talk.
Warning(s): Dark undertones because it's me, interrogation through fucking, unprotected p-in-v intercourse, slapping, spanking, pinching, biting, exhibitionism, cock riding, dacryphilia, overstimulation and mentioned orgasm denial, hair pulling, degradation. Minors do not interact.
Type: Request (anon), here. 
Note: Villains in general are my jam so I loved this. Sorry this is so late. Hope you like it still <3
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Half a choked gasp fluttered past your lips as the remaining half was eaten by the sob you let out right after, droplets of the tears that stained your stinging cheeks spraying out from the vibration of the sound waves escaping your mouth.
“Please!” Your back arched and a vein in your thighs twitched, causing the limb to start jittering as your knees pushed deeper into the chair your impaler was relaxing against while you cried and mutilated your dignity in front of all the main S.H.I.E.L.D staff that were cloaked behind the two-way mirror of the interrogation room. “Oh!” Your hair whipped a near revolution around your lolling head when your defiler's rough fingers cracked against your soft and wet cheek once more. 
Your pussy was so stretched. Oh… The consciousness of how Steve Roger's cock had your intimates spread so wide around his hot, leaking and stone hard cock made you feel uneasy when you imagined the state of your entrance. Despite how the contact of his palm felt against your face, the manner in which he so humiliatingly deprived you of such a basic bodily function as breathing, the infuriating condensation with which he pinched and fondled your exposed chest and the sheer degradation in the way he did all this in front of his people for no good reason than making you rat, you only clenched harder and slapped your ass against his muscular thighs faster. Your tears flowed at the same rate as the speed with which you imparted upon him the information that was so dear to your ambitions. 
The ratting was not the worst part though.
No.
That was the fact that despite your initial attempts to make it look like you were unwilling, that the cruel Captain was forcing his depraved will onto you, that S.H.I.E.L.D was nothing but a bunch of glorified goons, your tears were not of disgust or denial, much to your own surprise. 
Rather, they were ones of pure, bubbling and desperate need; frustration.
For just one more orgasm. Another bittersweet climax to add to the many you had had ever since Steve saw through your design; took matters into his own hands. Yet another chase through the agony of your swollen petals squelching and sucking away at the painfully prominent veins of his dick.
“Say it for me, brat” his smooth deep voice cut through you like needle penetrates cotton. Your loins closed in on themselves. So close. “Tell your Captain the name” with the way his cold blue eyes that drowned in the nimbostratus of his lust watched you, his rough fingers groped your spanked ass and guided your aching hips into yet another oscillation on his cock, your fucked out brain was forced to register his words as the only truth you knew; the only law that existed.
“C- Captain!” The word faintly stung your tongue as the mind unleashes a sensory revolt against one who betrays his conditioning. “C- Cap–!” It was the result of his torturing you before granting you your first orgasm of the session that you had willingly shattered your own dignity and accepted his command as well as title. 
Were you really to blame?
When it hurt this good?
“Say it for me, baby” he nearly whispered the pet name as he sat up straighter and pressed his nose to yours to steal a rough kiss which your hair hid from everyone else, one of his manly hands abandoning their station on your hip to trail up the side of your body to find a grip between the strands of your hair and against your scalp. You cried harder as your head collapsed against his. The readjustment of his body had pushed him balls deep inside you. “Say it for your Captain and he will give you what you need most” and that was all you needed to hear before you gave out the name of the brains of your operation. 
Steve didn't have to. He really didn't. It was the disdainful curl of Fury's lip that proved it. But the Captain finally brought his muscular thighs into motion and rocked his hips to abuse your sensitive spot with his tip so to make you cry, his fingers pulled your head back and out of his way so he could latch his hot lips onto that one spot that he had discovered right under your ear, his other hand now departed from your hips because his own had taken over, and his thumb glided over your cunt in a way that made your melted brain spin. Your myopic vision gyrated and an animalistic cry rose up from your aching epiglottis. It was barely audible but full of the hot air that your tense lungs had been compressing. 
Your weak body nearly keeled over and hit the ground from the orgasm that quaked through your muscles and organs. You shivered and shuddered, your arched form hanging from his cock that his strong legs bounced you on furiously. It was all so much. Too much. You had reached a point where the sharp and barbaric bite of his teeth on your erect nipples was barely noticeable to you because of how fugue you had become on his cock.
Your brain shut down. Whatever happened next was nothing but blurry glimpses of fleeting moments that raced by you. Every second felt like an eternity and the pulling of your limbs and the unbearable echoing of voices inside your head made you wince. You grunted and whined when your sex disconnected from the base of your impaler's cock with a pop loud enough that even you registered it.
You felt your body being dragged. The cells. You didn't have to see it to know it. They were the only fate of your like in this organization. You took a mindless glance behind you and a number of thoughts wormed their way into your disintegrated consciousness.
Did the Captain stare at every offender's dragging away with that primal hunger in his cold blue eyes? Was it routine for his own personal team to deprive a prisoner of their clothes without providing them with a uniform in their stead? Were all your fellow inmates suspended to the ceiling with their hands handcuffed to the chain hanging from it? Was solitary confinement necessary for all new convicts?
Or was it a special courtesy bestowed solely upon you by the Captain and his team? 
Something told you that you would find out.
And very soon.
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worldlxvlys · 8 months
Note
Chris fucking the attitude outta you
THICC BLACK GF QUEEN ( me )
Like if u want details !!
The D is fire 🔥🔥
oh he’s def ass grabbing spanking whatever ( if ur comfortable )
Def choking while he’s doing it !!
Literally has no intention of stopping even when ur like pushing his hand away ( IF U WANNA USE A SAFE WORD FEEL FREE BUT UP TO YOU )
Location?? Bathroom sink😛😛
accessory
chris sturniolo x black! reader
warnings: c’mon. it’s smut. p in v, unprotected sex, choking, spanking, squirting, cream pie, overstimulation, thigh fucking
a/n: happy bhm, hope you likeee <33
i look good.
i stared at myself in the mirror, admiring my features.
i wore a tight baby pink dress that ended right below my ass. it hugged my body perfectly and showed off my thick thighs.
chris hated when i wore this dress in public, but i love it.
of course, he’s never actually vocalized his opinion on it.
probably because he knows it won’t stop me.
while it does leave little to the imagination, it makes me feel confident.
and it always leads to earth-shattering sex.
while i continued to stare at myself, i heard chris walk up behind me.
“you look so fucking perfect ma, holy shit” he said as he looked me up and down.
his gaze stopped at my hair, staring at the curls.
“you missed one” he said as he gently lifted up a piece of my hair, showing me the twist i somehow managed not to get to.
“can you do it for me? the ones in the back are a bitch to untwist”
“of course, baby. and don’t worry, i’ll be gentle” he said, knowing how careful i was with my hair.
“thanks” i said as he slowly and gently unwound the two strands of hair.
he held it up when he finished, pointing to the end, “ look at how cute the ends are” he said with a grin on his face.
i stared at him through the mirror, lightly shaking my head at him with a smile.
his hands found their way onto my hips. he moved one hand down towards my thighs, while the other wrapped around my stomach.
“you sure you wanna wear this dress?” he whispered into my ear, making chills run down my body.
his tone of voice was completely different than what it had been not even two minutes ago. he glared at me in the mirror, as though he was daring me to test him.
i stared right back at him, smirking slightly “yup” i said.
“ ok, baby. how about i give you a little accessory ?” my eyebrows furrowed at this.
accessory? what is he talking about ?
“yeah, baby. i think my cum dripping down your leg would really make the whole look come together. don’t you think ?”
oh.
his words traveled straight to my core as i squeezed my thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction.
he chuckled at that, “you like that, huh ?” he placed a kiss on my neck and brought his hand to my thighs, lightly slapping them.
“open up, pretty girl” i obliged, separating my thighs for him.
he put his hand between my legs, pushing his hand into my panties.
“fuck, chris” i sighed out, reaching forward to hold onto the sink.
he pushed the dress up to my waist, giving himself better access.
“god, look at that ass” he whispered, striking it with the palm of his hand.
i moaned at the feeling, making chris look at me through the mirror again.
“feel good, baby?” he asked as he ran his fingers through my folds.
“fuck yes, chris” i moaned out.
“pull down the top for me, baby. wanna see those pretty tits”
i pulled down the straps of my dress and tugged the top down far enough to expose my bra.
it was light purple, one of his favorite colors to see against my dark skin.
“fuck, you trying to kill me ma?” he asked as his free hand immediately went to cup my tits through my bra.
without warning, he moved his fingers up and down my folds. they were moving fast.
“chris!” i screamed out in surprise, gripping onto the sink tighter.
he quickly unclasped my bra, throwing it to the side and moving his hand to my throat.
he lightly squeezed my neck while looking at me in the mirror.
“this what you were thinking about when you put on this dress, baby?”
i let out a strangled moan in response.
“is that what you love so much about it, ma?”
he sped up his fingers, making sure to graze my clit with each upward motion.
“shit, chris! i’m gonna-” he stopped moving his hand before i could finish, making me whine.
“why’d you stop?” i breathed out.
he quickly took off his pants and boxers. “enjoy it while you can, cause i promise i won’t be stopping again anytime soon”
he lightly pushed my back, bending me over the sink.
tugging my panties down, he gripped my ass with his large hands.
he guided his dick to my folds, lathering it in my wetness.
i squeezed my thighs together in response, making him groan out.
“fuck. love your thighs, so smooth” he ran his hands along my skin. “so soft” he moaned as he continued to fuck my thighs.
“feel so good around me” his head fell back, eyes closed as he continued to rut his cock between my thighs.
his dick rubbed against my pussy, making me clench around nothing.
without warning, he pushed himself inside of me.
a string of curses fell out of both of our mouths as he filled me up.
he began to move, snapping his hips into mine.
he let out a long groan “always so fucking tight, ma. jesus christ”
my pussy hugged his thick cock, and the suction-like grip made an obnoxious squelching sound.
“shittt chris” i whined as he stretched me out, the pain quickly turning into pleasure.
“faster, please chris!” i moaned out.
he sped his hips up, pounding into me rapidly.
“fuck, fuck, fuck” i moaned, my voice shaking every time our hips met.
“god, i love watching your tits bounce” he groaned as he squeezed them.
my eyebrows furrowed as i felt my orgasm approaching.
“c’mon baby, i know you’re close. give it to me”
“chris! i’m cumming!” i screamed out as i released on his cock.
his pace never slowed as he continued to drill into me.
he gripped onto my dress that was now bunched up at my waist, using it as leverage as he continued his movements.
“fuck, chris. feels so so good” i moaned out, barely able to get anything out above a whisper.
“look so good like this ma. fuck, i’m gonna cum” he groaned.
“yes! please, please fill me up” with that, he shot his load inside of me.
after a few thrusts, his pace slowed.
“fuck yourself on my cock”
my eyes widened, “what? chris i’m too sens-” he slapped my ass, making my body lurch forward.
“you wanted to wear the dress so i’d fuck you, right ?” i nodded.
he slapped my ass again, making me moan out. “start moving, baby”
i did as he said, pushing my hips back into his. i looked back, watching his dick disappear into me.
the sight of our pleasure covering his cock while i fucked myself on it turned me on even more, fueling me to move faster.
i rolled my hips into his, push them against him quickly.
“fuckkkk yes, that feels so good baby” he groaned as his eyes rolled back.
“yeah? you like it when i use you like this?” i asked as i felt another orgasm coming on.
before i knew it, i felt chris’s hot cum inside of me again.
the feeling of him dripping down my thighs sent me tumbling over the edge.
his thrusts slowed down slightly as he opted for deep, hard thrusts.
“holy s-shit, chris” i cried out as my back arched.
“so fucking good, how are you real?” he mumbled.
he started to get impatient and sped up his thrusts again.
my mouth hung open and all i could do was sob at this point.
i reached behind me, trying to get him to stop somehow.
he brought my arm back to the sink, placing his hands on top of mine.
“something you wanted to say?” he asked. i shook my head in response.
“no? then be a good girl and take it”
he moved his hands, still holding mine, and guiding them to my boobs.
“ you’re doing so good, baby. you almost there ?”
too tired to speak, i nodded my head in response.
“yeah? come with me, baby. let it all out” he whispered into my ear.
this time, my juices shot out of me, making him pull out and rub himself against my ass.
he came with a loud groan of my name, spilling his seed onto my lower back.
i stood up straight after a little while, stretching my limbs out.
i caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, taking in my sweat-covered face.
fuck. so much for that twist-out.
“so, you ready to go?” he asked.
i stood there, looking at him crazily.
“what?” he asked, obviously confused.
——————
ahhh hope you like this 🙈
masterlist
tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf
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zweigsangel · 2 months
Text
show me how. — patrick zweig.
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gif: @harcive
pairing: college!patrick x fem!reader
summary: patrick is a womanizer until he mets you.
warnings: use of y/n, fluff, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), 18+.
patrick was a slut. everyone knew it, and he wore it like a badge of honor. he was happy of the line of girls trailing behind him, savoring the thrill of a new one every day, and taking pride in fucking them all.
but then he met you. the first time he laid eyes on you, you were on the tennis court, playing with a friend of yours. patrick had come to visit art, but in that instant, his plans took an unexpected turn. he watched you intently, studying every movement. your hair, pulled back into a high ponytail, swayed with each step. your cheeks glowed with a delicate flush from the heat. the white outfit you wore accentuated every curve of your body, contrasting beautifully with your sun-kissed skin. the skirt, matched with the snug top, highlighted your long, smooth legs. patrick focused on the soft grunts escaping your lips each time you struck the ball, and he couldn't help but imagine the sounds you'd make if you were beneath him-
“patrick, there you are!” art’s voice shattered his reverie. “hey, yeah. let’s go,” patrick responded, his mind still partially absorbed by the vision of you, as he turned to face his best friend.
they began to walk away, but before they completely left the court, patrick glanced back one last time. you had also turned in their direction, and when your eyes met his, you gave a slight smile before refocusing on your game.
and when that evening you heard a knock on your dorm room door, patrick was the last person you expected. yet there he was, standing in front of you with one hand behind his neck, looking a bit awkward. you were already wearing your pajamas, a cozy set with white and pink stripes.
yes, patrick asked art about you. so many questions.
you couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh when you saw him. "uhm, hi," you said, trying to mask your surprise. "hey, am i disturbing?" he asked casually, as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
you shook your head quickly, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. "no, no. do you want..". without finishing your sentence, you stepped aside to make room for him to enter. he took the silent invitation with a small smile, stepping into your cozy room.
“i’m patrick, by the way,” he said, his gaze fixed on you as you settled onto your bed, crossing your legs. he mirrored your movement, sitting down beside you. “y/n,” you replied softly. “i know.” he closed his eyes for a brief moment, cursing himself for the admission, but the light chuckle that escaped your lips made him open them again.
conversation flowed effortlessly between you, which was surprising. he was usually the type to skip the small talk, to get straight to the point, and then vanish without a trace. that’s how it always worked. but with you, things felt different. there was an ease, a comfort in simply being there with you, lying on the bed and talking as if time had no hold on you.
but he found his eyes repeatedly drawn to your glossy lips. he was mesmerized by the way they moved as you spoke, the rhythm of your words, the occasional curve into a smile. the desire to feel them against his own lips grew with each passing moment.
and that’s how a make-out session began between the two of you. your back pressed against the mattress, patrick hovering above you, propping himself up on his elbows on either side of your head as you parted your lips to let his tongue in. your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling and pulling him closer to you, eliciting a low moan from his mouth.
his movements were hurried and almost frantic as he removed your pajamas, tossing them to the floor without a second thought. you mirrored his urgency, peeling off his clothes.
he paused for a moment, his eyes raking over your form with intensity, his eyes dark with desire. “gorgeous,” he murmured, the word barely audible, more a reverent whisper to himself. his lips descended to your neck, trailing soft, sloppy kisses and delicate bites along your skin. his fingers played at the edge of your panties, teasing, making your breath hitch and small sounds escape your lips.
those soft whimpers seemed to spur him on, driving him to the edge of control. “lift your hips for me, baby,” he whispered against your neck, his breath hot against your skin, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. obediently, you lifted your hips, allowing him to slide your panties down and off. they were already slightly damp, a fact that brought a smirk to patrick’s lips.
he positioned himself between your legs, carefully lining himself with your entrance. his gaze softened as he offered you a final reassuring look, and you responded with a barely perceptible nod, signaling your readiness.
as he eased into you, a sudden, intense pleasure caused your eyes to snap shut and your lips to part in a beautiful, involuntary moan. “fuck. you’re so tight,” patrick groaned, his voice hushed but filled with raw desire. he pulled out slowly before sliding back in, his pace gradually increasing with each thrust. his gaze fell to the point where your bodies connected, watching in awe as your heat enveloped him with a perfect, snug fit. “it’s like it was made for me,” he grunted, the words almost lost in the mix of his heavy breathing and guttural sounds escaping his lips.
his hands moved from your hips to beneath your knees, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist. this new angle deepened the connection, intensifying the pleasure.
“oh god,” you moaned in response, your nails scratching along his back as you arched into him. everything felt perfect, the sensation almost overwhelming.
“’m close,” you whispered breathlessly. “me too,” patrick replied, his thrusts growing faster and more urgent as he felt your walls tightening around him.
the room was filled with the rhythmic sounds of your joined bodies and the breathless mingling of your moans.
after just a few thrusts, you reached your climax, the intense pleasure causing your fluids to stain the bed sheets and cling to your thighs.
patrick quickly followed, his body tensing as he moaned deeply. he sank into you completely, buried deep inside as his head rested in the crook of your neck, trying to catch his breath. you gently caressed his hair, both of you enveloped in the silence. your bodies moved in sync as your breaths gradually slowed to a more regular pace.
after a moment, patrick whispered, “i’ll get a towel to clean up,” pressing a kiss to your cheek. he rose from the bed and went to the bathroom, his movements deliberate as he searched for a towel, grabbing the first one he saw.
patrick wasn’t sure why he was doing this. he had never cared about the aftermath before. as he returned to the bed, he found you peacefully asleep, a soft smile gracing your lips.
with gentle care patrick began to clean the sweat and fluids from your body. he moved slowly, making sure not to wake you up.
the next morning, you found yourself alone in your dorm room. it was to be expected, right?
trying not to dwell on it, you went about your morning routine. as you were in the hallway, you bumped into someone. “art. hey.”
“hey. sorry.” he replied, a touch of embarrassment in his voice. “after last night, patrick wanted me to give you his number. he’s not sure if he’ll be able to make it here today.” a low laugh escaped his lips. you smiled as you took his phone, noting patrick’s number before entering it into your own.
after you finished, you handed art his phone back, but a sudden realization made your smile fade. “wait. you know about last night?” you asked, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
art’s eyes widened, clearly realizing he had overstepped. “he just told me it was the best sex he’s ever had. no details,” he explained quickly.
it was true; for patrick, it had been the best sex of his life. what wasn’t true was that art didn’t know the details—because he definitely did.
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