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#and he says he thought he smelled something on the wind but it was just a battle memory

chrollohearttags · 8 months

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store manager!sukuna has such a bad habit of flirting with the female customers. It’s something he’s done since getting hired. With that suave charm and cool demeanor, none of them had a complaint either. Always coming to work, looking good and smelling even better. Pearly white teeth and gold capped fangs appearing each time he flashed a grin in the direction of the ladies..and hey, it made sales. Lots of sales so no one could say anything. Not even (y/n), who was forced to strut around the store all day, clipboard in hand as Ryo told this customer how beautiful she was or called that one ‘miss’ or ‘mama.’ It frustrated you to no end..not just because they ate it up but also because you never thought you’d find yourself getting jealous over a man! However, he knows exactly how to quell your little attitude. Showing up to your apartment with your favorite wine, flowers and dinner from that place you can’t stop raving about. “C’mon, mama…it’s just us now. You ain’t gotta look at me like that.” Very much aware that you were still upset; sitting with your arms folded on the opposite end of couch as he tilted your head and chin towards him.

But when he takes you to the bedroom, tossing you over his shoulder and laying you on the bed, he knows you won’t be mad for long…not when those legs wind up on his shoulders, trembling from being pounded into absolute oblivion. One hand around your throat. Another hand lying in the center of your tummy as he fucked you into the mattress. You were trying to pretend you hadn’t caved and that his attempt at trying to woo you didn’t work but that was all but a lie when he saw that creamy slick leaking all over his cock. Stretching you open and hitting your core with precision. All while lacing your ankles and toes with gentle pecks as well..gently suckling just to really get that pussy soaking. The way no other man could..something he knew, which is exactly why he stared directly into you eyes as he fed you deep strokes and sloppy kisses with his Cuban link brushing against your throat. And you could claw into those muscular arms, tap at his abs or whatever but he couldn’t let up until he had his answer to a very simple question:

“You still mad at me, ma? C’mon, you know you’re my baby. My only one..”

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luveline · 2 months

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You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.

-🌕

I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!

thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader

cw past drug abuse

“Hi, Spencer Reid.”

You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could.

“You’re not saying hi anymore?”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.”

He looks up tentatively. “You have?”

“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.”

“Why?” Spencer asks.

You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.”

“Okay.”

You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.”

He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.”

“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.”

“And stuff.”

“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.”

You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone.

“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks.

“What are you enjoying lately?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”

“Cereal?”

“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.”

You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse.

You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail.

“Hug?” you ask hopefully.

He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear.

“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly.

“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second.

“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?”

He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.”

“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?”

He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him.

“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger.

“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.”

“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.”

He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.

“What are you two whispering about?”

You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face.

“Nothing,” Spencer says.

You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.”

“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases.

You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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adoreddestiny · 2 months

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ೃ⁀➷ WEARING HIS CLOTHING — rafayel, zayne, xavier x gn!reader

“c’mere it’s starting to rain harder,” rafayel says, huffing as he closes the door behind you. the scent of wind and rain stains your clothing as you look around his studio. he sighs, running a hand through his wet hair. his fingers soak up the raindrops before he turns to you.

though he stumbles a bit as he spots the white shirt you're wearing growing more and more sheer from the rainy weather. rafayel feels the tips of his ears and his cheeks burn before he tears his gaze away from you. "you're probably getting cold in that," he spits out, "wait here. i'll get you a change of clothes in the meantime."

you barely have time to reject his offer before he darts towards his room. he returns hastily with new shirt and a beige and red cardigan of his. any chance of your denial is shot down with his arms crossed over his chest. "just change into it," he mutters, still avoiding your gaze.

you shrug, stepping into his bathroom to slip out of your soaked shirt. the shirt fits decently but the cardigan is much larger than you realize. the sleeves cover your hands and feel like flaps. but it smells like the bothersome painter you've grown fond of.

stepping out of the bathroom, you find rafayel sitting in front of the fireplace. it seems he's changed as well but it's difficult to tell from the large blanket he's enveloped himself in. but he pauses, looking you up and down.

"what?" you laugh, "cat got your tongue?" his cheeks burn once more but he scoffs, pulling you down into his lap under the blanket. "don't you dare say that devilish name in my home," he mutters, burying his face into the crook of your neck. you smell like him now and there's a tenderness he finds himself embracing when his hold on you tightens.

“i’m home,” zayne calls out, shuffling out of his shoes. he pauses, expecting you to come rushing out from somewhere to greet him. but when nothing arrives, he feels his chest tighten. perhaps it’s a little silly to have been looking forward to your welcoming smile.

he finds himself looking around your apartment in all of your usual spots. but he doesn’t need to look too hard when he finds you in your room. you’re curled up atop a layer of laundry in deep sleep. it’s warm to the touch and the scent of linen is fresh in the air.

zayne feels the edges of his lips tug when he spots you wrapped up in a large coat he’d worn on a date with you last week. it engulfs you as you snuggle deeper into its depths.

he reaches out for you, pulling back your hair and cupping your cheek. there’s something both ravenous and adoring in his gaze as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. perhaps he’ll let you wear his clothing next time you need a little nap.

your name escapes his lips for a moment and your eyes flutter open. “z-zayne..!” you stutter out, sitting up quickly, “i didn’t realize you’d be back this early.”

“i am back on time,” he murmurs, bending down on a knee to meet your height on the bed. “i believe you are the one that lost track of time. doing the laundry, i see. did that coat give you a hard time?” the look on your face warms his heart as his arms reach under the coat to wrap around you.

"you're cold, aren't you?" xavier murmurs. a silvery autumnal breeze whirls past the two of you and another curious shiver curls down your back. xavier chuckles fondly, hand still enveloped in yours. it's likely the only thing providing you warmth save for the thin jacket you thought would do its job more properly.

"i'll be fine," you said quickly, "the apartment's just another block." your words don't exactly convince xavier. he pauses, dragging your hand back a bit to pull you into his chest. "i don't really have a use for my jacket right now anyways. how about you take it for now?" he says with a smile.

you avoid his gaze, unwilling to admit he might have been right earlier about the chilly weather. but you don't reject his offer when he slides his jacket off and wraps it around your shoulders. "there," he chuckles, "feel a little better?" you decide not to indulge a reply.

back at the apartment, you immediately float to the heater. xavier's sweater is still lovingly draped over your shoulders. his warmth remains despite everything. from the kitchen, xavier watches you wrap the sweater even tighter around you. it suits you.

a lingering smile tugs at his lips before you slide back over to him. "you can have it back now. i can grab one of my thicker jackets now," you say, though not exactly stripping it off yet. he shakes his head, tugging the sleeve slightly to pull you closer to him.

"i prefer if you keep it for now," he says with a gentle expression, "i had heard from someone that offering someone your jacket was a pleasant sign of affection." he pauses, admiring the way you're bundled tightly in his clothing. "i just wasn't sure how to bring it up..." then, he smiles knowingly. "i figured a nice walk out give me an idea."

#ੈ♡˳ aurora's writing #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel fluff #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x y/n #love and deepspace zayne #zayne x mc #zayne fluff #love and deepspace xavier #xavier fluff #xavier x mc

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kisses4reid · 2 months

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convenient | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - studying while working at a convenience store is easier that thought when a regular happens to be a genius.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

warnings - school work, that always scares me. they’re the same age!!! early 20s. mention of condoms.

edit - bc this is getting so much love, i’m opening a taglist for part 2!!! just comment or put in a req to join the ‘convenient’ taglist 🫶

the chime of the door didn’t phase you, the creaks and squeaks of the store slowly becoming one with you. flipping onto the next page of your biology textbook, something that was unnecessarily expensive, you shake your hand to get rid of the cramp you slowly became aware of.

it was only when a wave of man’s cologne and a plastic bag stood in front of you that you ripped your eyes off of your books.

he was tall, skinny, had long(ish) hair and looked amazing. there wasn’t really anything else to say, other than that the thin smile he displayed toward you made you smile back.

“just these for today?” you ask, fixing your posture and pushing some loose strands back to their place behind your ears.

“yes, thank you.” he says, voice as timid as his appearance. it was a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him as his long fingers slip through his wallet to find a debit card. “have a good night.”

your eyes return to your textbook as you go to erase an answer you had previous written, obviously wrong.

“the heads of the phospholipid bilayer are hydrophilic, not phobic.” he says. it surprised you, making you return to his gaze slowly before realising you should probably reply instead of staring at the man.

“oh- yeah, thanks. i caught that it’s just, i guess i’ve been staring at the same words for so long i can’t differentiate them.” you give a small fake laugh as he nods, giving you a long look before coughing and leaving promptly. he leaves with his bag, and his hands fiddling with each other.

you can barely focus after that. customers come and go, and although you’ve only been doing the late shift for a week, this encounter with the unknown man couldn’t leave your mind. the way he dressed, his smell, his voice and how he corrected you (which would totally annoy you usually). you hoped he would return.

and he did. three days later, this time even later than the last.

you were stuck in a dark purple sweater, the aircon in the store blasting cold air that you were too lazy to fix. and although the air flipped pages of notes and questions, you were still stuck in a trance.

the blasting aircon blew a wind of mens cologne this time, it smelt like wood. your eyes glanced up from your books and trailed the familiar man, noticing how he was reusing the plastic bag from days before.

he returned to the checkout with apples, a 3 minute cannelloni, and a bag of coffee. he was now the one trailing you, “where did Latrice go?” you look up, chuckling a bit,

“Latrice is getting paid by her daughter-in-law to babysit the twins,” you reply, surprised you were willing to tell him so much information. he could be a stalker for all you know. or just a regular, obviously that’s way more likely. “trust me, i miss her as much as you do. $14.98.”

he nodded with a small smile and sliced his card down the side of the card reader.

you searched for him now, only after two encounters you were already craving some sort of human interaction at work. usually you avoided it since the only other ‘regulars’ were old men and mean teenagers. you had switched to writing a biology report on your computer, the sound of the keyboard almost covering the sound of the door bell.

a bag of apples, a 2 minute lasagne, a bag of coffee, and a banana muffin.

“big night?”

“uh- what?”

“you got a banana muffin. i thought you were starting to become predictable.” you bagged his things as he chuckled, looking over you and your laptop. you noticed only because you were also looking at him, “biology report. wanna read it?” you joked, but he didn’t catch that part.

now he was behind the register, sat on your wheelie stool reading and editing your report while walking you through everything he was changing. you didn’t understand most, but you were just happy to stay around him. you weren’t even scared of Old Alan, the guy who only buys cucumbers and condoms. nobodies ever asked him, don’t think anyone wants to know.

“what’s your word limit?”

“3500.”

“only 3500?” he gave you a raised eyebrow, voice getting slightly higher. he coughed, “sorry, that’s nearly impossible.”

you sigh, “i know… i’m y/n by the way. thought you should know who your helping cheat.”

“i’m not helping you cheat, i’m just… editing,” he hit backspace a few times with a lowered bottom lip, “my names spencer.”

you smiled and crossed your arms as you leaned against the counter. spencer. yeah, that sounded nerdy enough.

pt. 2

#spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x yn #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #cm #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x fem!reader

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hoasvuon · 4 months

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(7:21 AM)

wonwoo had always thought that his days off meant relaxation. he could play games for as late as he wanted, run to the local convenience store to grab instant noodles in between games, and laze around the house. and it especially meant one thing: that he could sleep in as late as he wanted, and just roll around in his sheets until the sun shone far too bright through the curtains.

with how fast-paced his life was, his slow mornings were his break from the reality of the world spinning around him. his way to decompress and center himself. after all, there always seemed to be something else that he had to do, or remember to do, or think about doing in the future.

but since he met you, his mornings started a bit differently.

wonwoo didn't know when he fell asleep, but he did know that he had fallen asleep with you tucked in his side, and that he had been playing the ends of your hair to fall asleep. feeling the sunlight hit his face, he reached out before feeling the empty spot next to him, still warm.

you couldn't have been up for that long then, he thought to himself

grabbing the throw blanket off the bed, he walked to the kitchen and was hit with the smell of pancakes wafting through the hallway. you had your back turned to him, busy intently watching to make sure none of your precious pancakes got burned. as he approaches you from behind he hears your quietly humming to yourself, most likely as not to wake him from the nearby bedroom.

"you abandoned me, how could you", wonwoo says as he wraps the two of you in the fluffy blanket. "i woke up all alone with no one to cuddle"

you laugh, the sound like wind chimes to his ears. "oh you big baby, i was going to wake you up once i finished making the pancakes"

"you could've woken me up when you woke up you know, i'm good at making pancakes too" wonwoo replies. "do you not trust in my pancake making abilities?"

you tilt your head to the side, fake contemplating. "hmm not really" but the small laugh after you say it confirms that you had no bite in that sentence. "i just wanted you to be able to sleep in, i know how much you like doing that on your days off"

wonwoo has a small smile on his face - you know him all too well. peppering small kisses to your cheeks, he says "well next time you better wake me up, so that we can have a pancake making competition! i can't have you thinking i make inferior pancakes"

you murmur a small "ok baby", eyes still focused on the pancakes in front of you.

what he doesn't tell you is his underlying thoughts: wake me so i can see you in the morning, wake me so i can be near you whenever, wake me so that i can see you making pancakes, laughing light like a fairy when you accidentally burn one.

(wonwoo doesn't think life would ever give him enough mornings with you, wrapped in his arms, peppering lazy kisses to your face. so he wants nothing more than to spend all those precious moments awake and by your side)

#svt x reader #svt fluff #svt imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fluff #svt scenarios #svt wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt drabble #seventeen #svt soft hours #wonwoo soft hours #wonwoo imagines #seventeen fanfic #svt angst

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 5 months

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YEYYYT UR REQUESTS ARE OPENNN

pls bucky barnes w angry/jealous sex

btw so sad we are not matching profiles anymore aaaaa

I KNOW YAAY!!? love your brain sm omg!! im gonna do the same format as the moonboys one you sent in- just my thots and brainrot. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 and ah I know:( matching green was so cute but im on here all the time and get bored of my theme so quickly😭

JEALOUSY SEX W/ BUCKY.

bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings. 18+ only!! pinv, creampie, little bit of manhandling but it’s very light - all kinda lovey dovey. mdni

I feel like with bucky, sex isn't hateful, nor is it bitter. I think it's something that is often passionate and slow, sometimes rough, but for the most part, it's very loving. so, I think anger sex is a no no. but jealousy sex??? a big yes yes

right, so.. im thinking that he is still coming to terms with having a voice and being in control of his own thoughts etc etc, and that makes him feel a little insecure sometimes?? he often feels like you deserve someone who is more open/ straightforward and in tune with things, someone who is also closer to your age

so so so, one night when you come over to his after work, you have a lingering smell of another man's cologne (not bucky's oops - just someone you shared an elevator ride with) and instead of him moping over it, he decides against it

you'd be on his bed, you flat to the mattress, completely bare with bucky hovering atop, his thick cock gliding into you so SO so slowly. almost teasingly!! he'd have your hands held above your head, his left, metal arm securing them tightly, his other hand lovingly cupped around your cheek - keeping your face still, making you keep your eyes on him. his strokes would be very consuming! with his leisure thrusts you're able to feel EVERYTHING!! every vein on his cock, every twitch when his tip kisses at your cervix, every ridge when he brushes against your walls

he'd wind into you slowly, making you feel it all. every. single. millimetre. of. his. pretty. dick. he'd be very teasing with it, almost cooing at you when you make those pretty sounds he loves so much. he'd thumb over your cheek, eyes locked on yours, softly nodding down at you when your lips part and head falls back. he'd tell you how he's never felt a pussy as good as yours, and how no one can ever and will ever fuck you and love you and look after you as good as he does (he always gets a little ego boost when he fucks you, so woo, yay! go you) might I add, he whispers it against your lips, just saying. just him muttering praise in a hoarse, strained tone on your lips???? goodbye

he won't kiss you yet, just lips shadowing yours, swallowing your gentle whines and whimpers as he fucks into you - keeping that same slow, tedious pace. your legs would wrap around his middle tighter, keeping him glued to you as you reach your high. you'd tell him how he's the only man you want, the only person you want inside of you and that'll make him cum IMMEDIATELY!! just him being reassured and comforted??? makes him jizz on command

he'd fuck his cum into you, slowly and sloppily as you kiss. all very carnal and desperate!! lots of muffled whispers and heavy breaths as you both even out. ALSO!! he'd kiss your wrists if his metal arm made a mark, replacing the cold with warmth

gonna go cry now bc I want him so bad

#request #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky smut #winter soldier #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader smut

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alesbianperson · 2 months

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football player!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: At the football play you visited to support your best friend, something happens that you didn't expect.

warnings: smoking (weed); slightly implied loser Ellie at the end; swear words; girls kissing (what a surprise); my writing idk

authors note: so firstly I mean football as soccer and not american football, but its not important to the plot so it can be interpreted as either; secondly, sorry for being so inactive I actually needed fucking half a year just for this its actually embarressing, I'm really slow at writing I don't know why, but I'm trying to be more active. I also didnt proofread so sorry for grammar mistakes or something anyway I hope you enjoy this!!

ALSO BIG DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN AND THE FACT THAT HE SUPPORTS ISRAEL!! If you don't know whats going on in Palestine, please go educate yourself because its highly important.

Here are a few links, so nobody can say it's too complicated or annoying to search for information (besides its really fucking heartless, cruel and totally not human to say "I dont wanna put effort in researching" while people are literally suffering and dying because of a genocide):

General information/updates

Brands to boycott

How you can help Palestine

Palestine masterposts: 1 2

--☆--

This evening was the final football game of the season. Everyone was so excited, and your best friend played in the school team, so of course, you came to this game to support her. You already arrived a bit late because you took a nap and didn't hear the alarm, so you quickly searched for your friends who were already sat and luckily saved you a seat. When they saw you coming in, they waved you over to them.

"What took you so long? The game has already started!" One of them said before switching their attention back to the field. "Sorry, I overslept." You explained yourself sitting down on your seat. "You didn't miss much, just a foul from the other team. They're so annoying and clearly playing anything but fair." Another one of your friends said, rolling her eyes while offering you a bag of chips. You declined and began searching for your best friend between all the other players, running on the field. Not even five seconds later, you found her. With the ball in front of her, she ran towards the goal. You joined the cheers of everyone from your school, sure that this was going to be such a great goal until:

A girl from the other team came out of nowhere, running towards her, tackling her to the ground. You gasped. "That was another foul!" One of your friends exclaimed, standing up to better see what the referee would say. But instead of also looking at the referee, your gaze still hasn't left the girl, responsible for the foul.

She looked pleased with herself. What an asshole! You thought to yourself, but couldn't deny that the way her eyes sparkled in the light and her auburn hair moved in the wind was mesmerising. Too distracted by her features, you realised a bit late that she was eyeing you too. A smirk on her lips, she winked at you before walking off the field, your eyes still on her.

"Too bad that bitch just got a yellow card. She deserved more, right?" Your friends, already discussing the decision of the referee, were turning to you since you were the only one who didn't comment on it. Heat rushed into your cheeks as you realised you hadn't listened the whole time, busy gushing over that girl. "Yeah.. definitely more." Was all you said to not keep the attention on you.

"Guys," you added after a short pause, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick. I'll be back."

"Sure."

"But hurry, they're already playing again."

You just slightly nodded before walking off to search for the bathrooms. To your luck, they weren't far away from your seats, so it didn't take too long to find them. As you closed the door behind you, a strong smell of weed filled your lungs. Holding a hand in front of your mouth, you coughed reflexively.

"Having trouble breathin', princess?"

You turned around to see the girl who fouled your best friend sitting on the sink, her legs slightly swinging forwards and back. She still wore her tricot but now had a grey, dirty, worn-out jacket over it. The half up half down bun she had was messed up, probably because of the constant running on the field, and between two of her fingers, she held an already half smoked joint.

Her smile rose as she noticed your gaze lingering on her again. "Y'want a photo? It'll last longer." She chuckled, finding this old ass joke very funny. You rolled your eyes at her words but couldn't help the smile, forming on your lips. "What are you doing here anyway, don't you have to play?" She blew out the smoke she held in her mouth before answering your question. "My coach replaced me. Said I needed a break before playing again." You just nodded because you didn't know how to keep the conversation going. For a few seconds, you both just looked at each other in silence. After taking another drag from the joint, she leaned forward, offering you to do the same.

"No, thanks. I don't smoke."

"Thought so." She chuckled. After a short pause, she added: "Not in a rude way, of course. Y'just don't look like you'd do drugs." Even though you knew it was childish and totally stupid, you now wanted to prove to her that you were indeed someone who could take drugs. So you took the joint out of her hand, carefully brought it to your lips, and inhaled.

You probably shouldn't have inhaled this deep because now you were coughing like someone poured tons of sand down your throat. It surely felt like it. When you calmed down a bit, you looked up again, handing the joint back to the girl on the sink, who was clearly amused. "What a brave girl." She said with a shit eating grin on her face. "Come here, I'll show you how it's done right."

She gestured between her spread legs. As you moved towards her, she leaned in, reducing the space between the two of you. "Open your mouth." She then proceeded to take a drag from the joint. As she moved closer, your breath hitched. Your eyes wandered from her gorgeous green ones down to her lips, and heat rose in your cheeks again. Without breaking eye contact, she blew the smoke she had in her mouth into yours. Reflexively, you closed it.

"Now hold it in."

And that's what you did. The smoke filled your lungs, this time a lot less painful than your first drag. After a few seconds, you exhaled slowly, a small smile of pride on your face.

Your faces were still very close, and silence fell upon the both of you again. The tension thickend. Her emerald green eyes stared directly into yours, abruptly blinking down to your lips. "Can I kiss you?" Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, fading into thin air. A smirk grew once again on her lips before nodding and then proceeding to lean in and closing the gap between the two of you.

Once her lips were on yours, she cupped your cheek, her fingertips brushing slightly over it. You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Her lips were so soft. You couldn't really describe the feeling, but it felt good. Like you were on cloud nine. You quickly synced with the rhythm she set, leaning forward so that her back met the wall behind her.

Your hands wandered behind her neck, beginning to tug on her hair slightly. A soft groan escaped her lips at the sudden impact, which sounded like music to your ears.

A smile formed on your lips once she broke the kiss to catch her breath. "What're you smiling at?" She looked at you irritated, which just caused you to chuckle.

"I don't know. You're.. pretty."

Silence followed after that.

"Pretty enough to get your number?"

Ellie wanted to bash her head against the wall at her cringe comment. She thought she'd definitely crossed the line now. But you just began laughing, quickly covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the sound.

"Sorry. Don't get me wrong I-", you interrupted yourself by holding up your finger to signal her to wait and began searching for your phone in your purse. Fuck. You thought as you realised you left it in your jacket with your friends and hurriedly searched around for something to write on. Ellie just watched you amused, catching on to your plan. She snatched a pepertowel out of the spender and offered it to you. You just gave her an awkward smile, fishing a half empty kajal out of your purse and scribbled your phone number on it.

As you handed it to her, she took it with the same smirk she had in the beginning. "As sad as it is, I think I have to go back on the field. My coach probably misses me by now." She added hesitantly while sliding off the sink and walking towards the door. "Cool meeting you, though." The click of the closing door was the last thing you heard before you were completely alone in the bathroom.

With the paper towel still in her hand, Ellie made her way over to the rest of her team, almost jumping with joy and thanking every mighty power for letting her survive the whole conversation without completely losing her mind or embarrassing herself. She'd definitely save your number as soon as she could. Actually contacting you was a whole other story.

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x f!reader #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou x reader #wlw #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #football player!ellie williams #ellie the last of us #sapphic #tlou ellie

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jobean12-blog · 6 months

Text

Alpine Approved

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Alpine included)

Word Count: 1,146

Summary: It's your fourth date and since Bucky's already come to your place twice he wants you to come to his apartment this time. You're excited to see his living space and meet his cat Alpine.

Author's Note: Just a cute little thought of what Alpine might do the first time he meets Bucky's girl. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff, lots of kisses and Alpine!

Bucky presses you into the wall as he fumbles around in his back pocket for his key. His lips trail across your jaw then with a muttered curse he reluctantly pulls away and pats his leather jacket.

“Where the hell…ah! Here they are!” he says excitedly.

He grabs your hand in his while he unlocks the door with his other and kicks it open. With a yank you’re inside his apartment.

The door slams shut with another kick and before you can even take a look around he has you caged against the door, his large hands resting on either side of your head.

“Now…,” he murmurs. “Where were we?”

His lips brush along yours as his hands slide off the door and down to your waist. You sigh his name and run your fingers through his long hair.

“MEOW!”

You hear the loud meow before you feel something push between your calves.

“Oh!” you squeak and pull away just enough to look down.

Bucky hooks his finger under your chin and brings your gaze back up to his.

“That’s Alpine…you can say hi later.”

He kisses you again and you instantly melt into his embrace. His strong arms pull you from the door and he starts to walk you both backward toward the couch.

“Ow! Damn it!” he says when he walks into the coffee table.

You giggle and bump your nose with his. “Forgot that was there?”

“It’s your fault doll,” he grins, now holding your face between his hands. “I can’t think about anything else but kissing you.”

With that he captures your lips again and continues his journey toward the couch. Just when he thinks he’s safe, Alpine winds himself between Bucky’s legs and trips him up. Thankfully, Bucky is close enough to the couch to plaster you against his chest and propel you both the rest of way to land safely on the soft cushions.

You land on top of him with an “oof.”

“You ok doll face?” he asks with a sheepish look.

“Just fine,” you assure him as you snuggle yourself along his large body. “You’re very comfy.”

He winks and then unexpectedly flips you over, settling just the right amount of his weight on top of you.

“I’m an even better blanket,” he teases.

His thumb caresses the outline of your mouth before he slides his hand behind your neck, pulling you in for another kiss.

He’s barely gotten a taste when Alpine jumps onto the back of the couch and starts to swat at his hair.

With a nip of your bottom lip Bucky releases you and turns narrowed eyes to his white fluffy cat.

“You’re a real pain in my ass you know that?”

“MEOW!” is Alpine’s only verbal response. He follows it with another swat.

“Fine! We’ll say hi!” Bucky grumbles and sits up, offering his hand to help you do the same.

“Hi Alpine,” you smile, holding your hand out for him to smell.

He gently nudges it with his cold nose then turns his attention back to Bucky with another loud meow.

Bucky picks up the cat and cradles him against his chest, letting him settle in the crook of his metal arm.

“Happy now?” Bucky asks the white fluff.

Alpine’s tail swishes back and forth as he ignores Bucky and stares at you with piercing blue eyes.

“His eyes are so pretty…like yours,” you tell Bucky as you stare right back at Alpine.

Bucky chuckles and quietly says thank you with a dip of his head.

Alpine never takes his eyes off you as you settle yourself into the couch cushions.

“Does he always stare like this?” you ask Bucky.

“Well…” Bucky starts and then rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Um…sort of.”

“He looks suspicious,” you comment.

“Yeah…I don’t usually have people over and definitely not girls…”

“Are you telling me I’m the first girl he’s met?”

Bucky’s eyes go wide as he looks at you.

“Other than Nat and Wanda yeah I guess and they don’t count like that…”

“Like what?” you ask as you move closer.

“You know…”

“I don’t know. Don’t go all shy on me now.”

“Doll.”

“Bucky.”

“I haven’t stopped kissing you since you walked in! And even before that…he’s definitely not used to me giving someone else all my attention.”

“I feel extra special now.”

“You should doll face.”

Bucky’s smug smile chases away his shyness.

When you look back at Alpine he’s still staring at you in a clearly assessing manner.

“He always inspects every new person that comes over. He might be a bit overprotective.”

“I hope I pass whatever test this is,” you whisper, giving Alpine your best smile.

The cat blinks several times before he stands and does a big stretch.

“OH BIG STRETCH!” you cheer.

Alpine let’s out a satisfied meow and saunters across Bucky’s legs and into your lap.

“Well,” Bucky starts. “That’s it, it’s official. He likes you.”

“That seemed too easy,” you state and gently scratch Alpine’s head.

“It was the ‘Oh big stretch!’” Bucky teases. “He just loves to hear how awesome he is.”

“Fair enough,” you giggle. “You’re very handsome Alpine.”

The cat meows and rubs closer himself on you.

“Just like your daddy,” you add, completely giving in and cuddling the cat.

“It really does work,” you laugh.

“Great!” Bucky says. “Now he’s really happy and he’s got you right where he wants you.”

Both you and Alpine look at Bucky who’s full on pouting.

“If I stop now he might not love me anymore!” you argue.

“Sureeeee,” Bucky counters.

Alpine starts to gently knead your thigh as he purrs louder and Bucky just let’s out a groan and grabs Alpine off your lap.

“That’s enough buddy. Stop feeling up my girl.”

You let out a peel of laughter and watch as Alpine turns his head up and then gives Bucky his backside as he walks away, clearly annoyed at being displaced.

“He looks mad Bucky.”

“He’ll get over it,” Bucky says. “And besides…this is our date and I plan on getting in all the kisses I can...and then some.”

“I have zero problem with that,” you tell him.

He grabs your waist and drags you into his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle your face into his beard.

“Almost as soft as Alpine,” you tease.

“Hey now,” Bucky playfully admonishes.

Just before Bucky presses his lips to yours you catch sight of Alpine sitting across the room on the window sill, staring at the back of Bucky’s head.

“He’s staring again Buck,” you whisper against his lips with a small smile.

“Ignore him. He’s just trying to get our attention again.”

“You know you never gave me a tour of your place.”

“Later,” Bucky murmurs as his hands slip under your shirt. “You’re all mine now.”

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @kmc1989 @littleseasiren @lizette50

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky and alpine #alpine barnes #alpine #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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munsonthings86 · 1 month

Text

sunkissed

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: soft morning sex w steve <3

warnings: cursing, fluff, clingy!steve, established relationship, smut, praise, tipsy sex, oral (f receiving), penetration, no protection use

an: today (apr. 14) is the day steve and sunshine met ;) so i wrote something a lil special for them. hope you guys enjoy! *minors dni*

wc: 4.1k

steve and sunshine’s timeline

It couldn't have been later than six a.m. The waking sun shed an amber light that tinted your white sheer curtains, as they gently swayed in the brisk morning breeze. The wind blew harshly at times, prompting the sleepy boy next to you to nuzzle desperately closer to your heated touch. His lush, chocolate hair tickled your cheek as his head rested softly against yours when he abandoned his own pillow.

A freckled arm held you tightly against him as he spooned you, a breath that still smelled of beer and some other alcohol fanning your cheek. Usually, you recoil at the sour stench of liquor on people, but you couldn't help but to find it a bit endearing at the moment.

It was Steve after all. You found countless things about him endearing. Even his smelly little morning alcohol breath.

Sailing curious, feather-like fingers across his tanned skin that shined in the golden light, you stared at him in awe. His neck was still littered with stains of your lipstick from where you kissed him the night before. If you weren't so comfortable where you laid, trapped in this blanket of Steve, you'd rush to sneak a picture on your polaroid.

You knew exactly which one of your purses you'd want to keep the picture in too. It was only fair seeing as he kept his own photo of you in his wallet. And another on the dashboard of his BMW. And another on his bedside table.

It began getting hard to keep track of them all. Steve didn't mind though. When Steve would be having a less than ideal day, a rare but not uncommon occurrence, he couldn't avoid the grim ache of how much he missed you. It was such a treat when he would randomly stumble upon a picture of you somewhere, powerless against the blush and smile that would come.

The brightness of your room was blinding and unforgiving to the headache your hangover brought. Your hazy eyes stung when you tried to ogle the sunrise but you willingly gazed anyway. The sky was a gentle blue, cloudless, and full of melodic birds.

The moon still sat high and mighty, glowing, as it was being kissed by the sun's light.

It was such a breathtaking sight. A needle of guilt pricked you when you realized that you were witnessing it all alone.

Your fingers twitched when you thought about waking Steve, but he just looked too peaceful sleeping like this; lips puffy and dry from all his snoring and sleepy mumbles— hair perfectly untamed. Some rogue strands fell over his eyes, enticing you to gently sweep them behind his ears, careful not to wake him.

He groaned when you were unable to resist scratching at his scalp, eyebrows furrowing as his tired eyes failed to stay open. Not careful enough, apparently. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," you apologized in a hushed tone, apologetic smile to match.

"That's alright," he mumbled through a small grin, exhaustion weighing his voice down. Unfolding his body from the curled position he was in, his body tensed when he full-body stretched. You loved watching Steve wake up. It was like watching a flower bloom in real time. "What time is it?"

"Almost six," you responded after taking a glance at the dainty clock hung above your vanity. Steve's eyes widened as if he was startled. "Jesus, why're you up so early," you think you hear him say through his yawn. He laid his head down on your chest when he settled.

The hair that draped over his face was pushed back by your fingers so you could admire his lengthy eyelashes from this angle. "Maybe because somebody wouldn't stop kicking me in his sleep," you quipped, poking a finger at his side.

He scoffed in return before adjusting his head to stare back at you, "Well, I hope you find the guy who did that because I, personally, do not kick in my sleep."

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, tell that to my leg." Steve shrugged as if you insisted on the matter, tossing the duvet over his head before trailing down to your legs. "What're you-"

The question was cut off with a muttered, "I do not kick in my sleep." He prodded at your thigh after each word to accentuate his (false) statement. Giggling at him, you waited for him to return from under the covers but he didn't move. It fell a bit quiet even. "Did ya get lost down there, Harrington?"

"Something like that," soft, sedative kisses to your hip punctuated his reply. It was so easy to be distracted once he had this view of you. Plump thighs that he wanted to sink his teeth into, stomach that he wanted to pepper kisses on, and a tempting honeypot that made his mouth water, on full display for him.

It was a trap that he unintentionally fell into, but was fully delighted to be in, nonetheless. You lifted the duvet from over his head, tittering at the mischievous grin on his face.

Pushing the oversized white shirt that belonged to Steve once upon a time above your belly button, he found comfort between your legs. A knot in the pit of your stomach formed at the tasty mix of curiosity and anticipation manifesting from all that was unfolding.

With booze still lingering in your system, your body was more sensitive than usual. Every little touch Steve gave you sparked electricity along your skin and, greedily, your body chased the sensation each time, clearly unable to stave off its hunger.

His hair tickled you dangerously close to your core and your body seemed to have a mind of its own, hips bucking up on his face involuntarily.

He simply smirked at you, indiscreetly relishing in the way you reacted to him so easily. So needily. Grabbing at your waist, the pads of his fingers pressed hard onto you, and you were sure the two of you would fuse. Your eyebrows pinched themselves together, tighter and tighter, the more impatient you became, mumbled pleas stumbling out of your lips.

Steve reluctantly broke eye contact with you to look down at your heated core that he was certain was desperate for his attention.

Pinning your lower half to the mattress, he left a few taunting pecks to your lacy underwear, loving the way your puffy lips felt against his mouth. A low groan eluded Steve when your nails tugged lightly at his roots after clutching a handful of his hair. The vibration from the sound was like a dull shock to your pulsating cunt.

As if the kisses weren't egging you on enough, the tip of his tongue started flitting about, sweetly licking at your clit and in between your folds. His movements were slow and calculated; giving you just enough but leaving much to be desired, all at once. It was becoming unbearable.

Any discipline you had left in you was long gone.

With one hand gripping Steve’s hair and the other twisting at a stiffened nipple, you tried to keep yourself steady as you grinded yourself against Steve’s face while quiet moans fell from your lips.

His tongue had quit its dance and he wasn’t kissing where you needed him anymore. Instead, he grinned; gawking at you through his eyelashes as you selfishly didn't stop using his face to get what you wanted.

It's almost too much to look at him.

His cock twitched and strained against his boxers, savoring the way you were getting so lost in pleasure. Steve caught how you struggled to maintain eye contact with him whilst you shamelessly flaunted your lack of self restraint.

The pillow by your head fell victim to the squeezing and kneading trap of your hand, helping to keep you grounded. Soft whimpers that poked through the silence of the room were nothing short of music to his ears. Steve always found himself captivated when you got like this. You were so hot.

It’s almost too much to look at you.

"Steve," you fussed. "It's too early to be teasing me like this." Though you were being sincere, you laughed a bit amid your desperation. Steve's carelessness to shave for the past few days left stubble on his jaw and the friction it gave you against your soaked panties was too enthralling.

"Never too early for that," he laughed, tracing a finger along the intricate patterns of your racy bottoms, "but anything for my princess."

He could never say no to you. There were no bounds to what his angel deserved. Your body was hungry and his mouth was thirsty.

Fingers wrapped around the hem of the flimsy material, he unveiled your needy core to his even needier mouth. He drew his own undergarments down with a single hand, the other finding your waist as he settled himself between the sweet temptation of your legs once more.

Steve garnered a mouthful of saliva before slowly spilling it onto your cunt. He watched, mouth agape, as it crept, long, wet and sloppy from the top of your sex to the bottom. It blended in seamlessly with all the arousal pooling around your folds and dripping down your ass.

A reflexive moan slipped from you when he blew cool air onto it, the sensitivity making your body react. He hummed, staring intently at your gorgeous, sopping hole. Any minute now, he was going to be drooling all over himself.

He dotted smooches to your bikini line, addicted to how the sounds you made practically begged him to ease the burden between your legs. Tongue swiping across his lips as if he was starved, he was certain that you were the most appetizing thing he had ever laid eyes on.

His dark, lustful eyes never left yours while he laid his tongue flat against your vagina, a pleased sigh luring itself out at the taste. The sudden contact hoisted your body off the bed.

Steve's eyes flutter shut when you let out the prettiest moan for him. It only drives him to devour you deeper, completely determined to lap up every drop of your nectar. He was already eager to feel you clench and shake against him as you came. The thought alone sent his body to grind his erection against the firm bed.

The satin sheets you dressed your mattress in were smooth and kind of cold on his cock.

Watching Steve like this was so hypnotizing. Him embraced by your thighs, hair wild, eyebrows knitted with threads of lust and focus, chin soaked from making out with your pussy, and fucking himself on your bed from how feral he was; it was all so dirty it left you speechless.

He didn't even have to touch you, really. Just seeing him be so primal was enough to leave you a moaning mess. Brainless for him. Fuck.

Steve's tongue instantly lands on your clit when he goes to tease it, being so familiar with your body and all. He was so hooked on the way you tasted, that he would eat you for hours on end, if you'd let him. He didn't tire. Steve loved the way he could send you into a frenzy with just his tongue. He got so much pleasure from seeing you in pleasure. It was so fucking sexy.

You were already close to your peak considering how aroused and needy you'd been for the past few minutes. Whining when he unlatched from you, he hushed you, running a thumb from your clit down to your entrance.

He didn't warn you before slipping in his long, slender pointer finger and you both let out a satisfied groan. While you moaned at the penetration, Steve moaned at the way your warm, dripping cunt easily dragged him in, gripping his digit. He used his hand to help you reach the high he knew was coming, curling and pumping in and out of you just the way you liked.

His mouth wasn't done with you yet, though.

Steve's tongue was frantic and slippery across your wetness. Your fingers were lost and running amuck in his brunette tresses as you struggled to cling onto reality. Legs trembling and chest heaving as your breathing got rapid, "Steve, Steve, Steve," tore out of you as if it was the only word in your vocabulary.

You didn't have to say anything else. He knew exactly what time it was.

"Mhm," he hums into you. The resonance from his voice tickles your clit perfectly and it's what you need to launch you over the edge. You slipped into a deep pool of euphoria, completely coming undone for him.

Both of your shaky hands held Steve's head firmly against you, giving him nowhere to go but right where you needed him. "Let it go, baby. Give it all to me," his muffled voice wavered a little as he coaxed you delicately.

If your hangover wasn't already making you dizzy enough, then Steve definitely was.

"That's it," he insisted, sweeping a comforting hand along your hips, "Just ride it out for me." His thrusts against the bed nearly brought him to an orgasm of his own but he was determined to save it for you. The way your hole pulsated, it was like it was calling for Steve to fill it.

The tight hold you had on his hair loosened as he crept his way up your body, leaving a trail of kisses behind the further he got.

His face was soaked and covered in an elixir of his spit and your juices, and some of it found solace on your own face when he leaned down to kiss you. The lewdness of it all turned you on more if that was even possible. His smile at you was dopey and naughty and it's wildly infectious.

"How're you feelin'?"

"Dizzy," you confessed, tucking some of his hair behind his ear though it doesn't make it look much neater. Concern straightened Steve's face in the blink of an eye, "Good dizzy or bad dizzy?" The pads of his fingers rushed to your temple to sooth you.

"Good dizzy, for sure," you kissed at his flushed, puffy lips in pure bliss. "Such a good dizzy," your hand trailed down from his stomach to his throbbing member. He was so hard it made you gasp. Steve tended to be harder than usual in the mornings, but this was different.

"You're so hard, oh my God," giggling against his lips, you stroked him agonizingly slow and steady.

"Well, duh. Prettiest girl in the world just came all over my face. How could I not be this hard for you?" His words hitched in his throat when your thumb spread his precum across the tip of his cock, groans rushing out of him.

He thrusted into your hand eagerly, but you soon stopped your movements, much to Steve's dismay. "God, you're such a little tease," he dropped his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling the flirty perfume that still dwelled on your skin.

From your ear to your collarbone, he showered you in open-mouthed kisses, whimpers and throaty hums pouring out when he grinded himself against your velvety ass like a dog in heat.

You could tell how badly he needed you.

"And you're such a little hypocrite," a smile played at your lips, "but you're lucky. 'Cause I need you just as bad," you purred, stretching your leg behind his waist, bringing Steve to hold up your knee.

He slapped his cock on your entrance a number of times before running it along your folds, coating himself in your dripping mess. A hearty moan from you set off sparks in Steve's chest when he plunged his hard length into you.

Your pussy welcomed him in with open arms, surely not wanting him to leave as it gripped him tightly when he pulled out only to thrust right back into you.

His and your moans harmonized as you both reveled in the fervor. A hand flew to the back of Steve's head and held him there, loving the way he stretched you so perfectly. His cock was just the way you liked it; thick and veiny in such a way that it caressed your walls inexplicably well. It's a sensation so good that it makes your mind happily go blank and numb.

You were completely at Steve's mercy.

Steve caught your lips when they fell ajar, kissing you deeply. His head went fuzzy when you moaned shamelessly into his mouth, tongues colliding. Your racing pulse thumped against his fingers as he held you by your neck. Pulling away from the kiss, he slid his hand down your chest and stopped right where your heart beat, reminding you to breathe.

Still, his cock trucked in and out of you at a pace that was so delicious. It wasn't too fast and was in no way slow. It was exactly what you both needed.

"Shit, you feel so good."

Droning, you were unable to form any words other than fuck, yes, and Steve. Your mind, body, and soul was burning with a desire and yearn for him. Eyelids low and flickering, you put up a fight to keep your eyes from closing so that you could cherish this sight of him.

Sweeping back his hair, his eyes fluttered shut when you rubbed at his ear, knowing that he liked it so much when you did that, especially in moments like these. Steve loved the way you felt around him, of course, but it was the little intimate touches that really drove him over the edge. Steve wanted to stay here forever.

Your t-shirt bunched up around your chest, leaving your bouncing breasts on full display for him. Your face pulled against his, breath fanning his face as you mewled and moaned and begged. Pleading, glimmering eyes never leaving him. God, how scenic. You were so dreamy. Steve almost wasn't sure if he was still asleep or not.

You grinded yourself back against him, husky moans sounding from the boy that was making you feel so fucking good. Every hard thrust he gave, teased that little sensitive spot inside of you, and you swore you were in some sort of heaven. You cried out, back curving in ecstasy.

"There it is, yeah," he grunted, resting his hand on the spot where your back arched. "Right there, baby?"

Nodding your head hurriedly, a plethora of "yeah"s tripped out of your lips. He thrusted into your dripping core relentlessly, feeling you clench around him tightly. Your eyes were screwed shut and your legs were shaking like leaves in wind.

That, coupled with the gratification Steve was giving himself earlier, he already knew he wasn't going to last much longer but he needed to see you cum again one more time. At least.

His hand ran down your sweaty frame to where your bodies met, drawing circles at your clit.

"I love that. I love this," he praised the way you clenched around his shaft whenever he touched your clit while he was inside of you. It was wildly addicting. Steve couldn't put into words how heavenly you truly felt. He couldn't believe that you were his.

The moans you let out were breathy and frequent, a sure sign that you weren't far behind your climax either.

"You sound so pretty, baby," he whimpered, nudging his head so that his ear was pressed to your lips, not wanting to miss a single little noise you made for him. His clumsy fingers worked tirelessly at your clit. You held onto his wrist as you became consumed by bliss.

His and your hips collide when you buck yourself back against him as your cunt choked down on his cock, body writhing. If you carried on like this, soon you'd be seeing stars.

It's a nirvana that your past lovers were never able to take you to. Not the way Steve could. Steve loved watching you cum. He'd do anything to get you to cum.

"F-Fuck, that's so good. You're doing so good, sunshine. You're so fucking pretty like this. It’s unreal. Holy shit," he babbled. If Steve didn't stop now, he'd surely explode.

While riding out your orgasm, you felt him go suddenly absent. "Why'd you pull out," you whined, head falling back onto your pillow in protest. But trust him, it's the last thing that he wanted to do.

"Because I was about to fucking cum," he whined back, laughing a bit as he squeezed the base of his raging cock. "When you cum you get so tight. It feels so fucking good, you have no idea, baby," he cooed, rushing back into you, already missing your warmth.

After your two orgasms, your hole was impossibly wet and hot and Steve's dick was absolutely drowning. It doesn't take Steve much to utterly crumble. He was now at your mercy, all whiny and needy and desperate for you, fucking you faster and deeper than before. His gaze never dared to leave your face. You were so beautiful it made his chest ache.

If there were a textbook solely dedicated to beauty, there was no doubt in Steve's head that you'd be plastered all over it. Just look at you.

"How're you so perfect, huh? Why are you so perfect? It's not fair, baby, I swear," his thrusts were becoming sloppy and offbeat. "You could get away with anything with a face like this." Steve Harrington. The king of praise. If his cock or mouth couldn't make you cum, his words surely could.

"You gonna cum for me, Steve?" His forehead dropped onto yours as he nodded, beads of sweat falling on your face and you can't say that you mind at all.

Steve loved having you under him like this. Loved having his hands laced through yours on either side of your head, your legs wrapped tight around him, keeping him in. Loved being able to lower his head just a few centimeters to have his lips clash with yours. He just wanted to kiss you and love you and fuck you like this all damn the time.

"Oh, baby." His mouth falls open as whimpers and moans and groans spill everywhere, warm cum spurting into you. Goosebumps erupted all over his body. As he came, his greedy, convulsing body pushed further and further into you, chasing down his high incessantly.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, keeping him close, while you peppered his contorted face in pecks that were gentle, in contrast to the intensity his body was feeling.

The repeated, grating clanks of your metal headboard beating against your wall slowed and soon quieted once Steve collapsed onto you, totally fucked out and sleepy all over again.

"Fuck, that was so good, princess." A smile pulled at your lips in agreement.

His breathing was heavy and you chose to calm him down by playing with the short little hairs that stuck to his skin from all the sweat.

The crook of his neck was in your face and you noticed the lipstick stains you saw earlier still hadn't faded.

"It looks like you have a sky on your neck," you lilted, finger ghosting over the area below his ear. The sentence made Steve's eyebrows scrunch together. Confused, understandably. Still, he was curious to know what you meant. "I have a what now?"

You reached for the compact mirror on your end table, opening it to give Steve a look, "A sky!"

He blushed at your sweet giggle. "These kiss marks kinda look like clouds and your moles are the stars," you traced them as you spoke. "See? It's a sky," you affirmed with a smile.

Steve only stared back at you with the most lovesick grin on his face. He still couldn't believe you were his. He rested his head back down on your shoulder, drawing invisible patterns along your sternum. "I like the way you see things; the way you think about things. It's so adorable and bright. I love your brain. I love you, sunshine."

Your heart undeniably skipped a couple beats at that. Steve always complimented you, but there was something about how sweet and gooey like honey those words were that made you feel like you were going to burst.

"I love you too, Stevie," you took his freckled cheeks in your hands, planting your smiling lips against his own for a kiss, still tasting yourself on his lips. Pulling away, you ogled the way he beamed, completely and utterly glowing in front of you, the same way the moon outside glowed when it was kissed by the sun's light.

The moon only glows when kissed by the sun.

💌 1 new message from jojo: smut isn’t really in my skillset so im a little unsure abt this lol. but i wrote this with a lot of love, nonetheless! feedback is so greatly appreciated!

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve and sunshine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x poc!reader

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freelancearsonist · 22 days

Text

the mark they saw on my collarbone

➔ post-outbreak Joel Miller x afab!Reader // series masterlist

➔ 4.4k words

➔ Joel’s instincts kick in when he runs into an omega in trouble along a smuggling route.

➔ Rated MA // a/b/o dynamics and the associated gender politics (alpha!joel and omega!reader), heavy dom/sub dynamics, unprotected piv sex, creampie, fingering, oral (reader receiving), biting/marking, blood, size kink, joel calls reader little one/little thing, mention of reader being food-insecure, alpha!tommy and alpha!tess are here briefly. takes place one year post-outbreak. // reader is afab (female anatomy, no pronouns used), is generally able-bodied, is mentioned to be smaller/shorter than joel and can fit into his jacket, is otherwise a blank slate.

Tess’s face perks up halfway over a fallen tree–she stops in her tracks to tilt her nose into the wind. “You smell that?”

Of course Joel smells it. His senses were alerted to it about half a mile ago; he’s always had the better nose. He’s been trying to ignore it, however. There’s no point to giving into temptation in this shattered world, no matter how sweet the scent.

“Whew,” Tommy huffs, wrinkling his nose at the heavy pheromones that now drift around the trio. “Whoever it is, they’re closer than comfortable.”

“Smells like they’re in trouble,” Tess posits–always the thoughtful one. Always wanting to have faith in humanity, no matter how many reasons the last year has given her to lose hope. “That’s an omega. If not in full out heat, then damn near close to it.”

“Ain’t no way there’s an omega out on their own in these woods,” Joel growls. “It’s a trap.”

Tess shoots him a look–worried, stern. “What if it’s not?”

“It is.” He doesn’t even entertain the idea. There’s no way anything is left untainted in this world.

But with every step forward, the scent gets stronger and Joel’s resolve grows weaker. Your scent is so sweet. It reminds him of springtime in Austin, the little yellow sour grass buds and picnics in the park with…

The scar on his temple gives a single little throb, and he forces himself to focus up. They’ve got a clear destination, a contact to meet outside the Atlanta QZ. He needs to keep his head in the game and out of the past. Dwelling on that, on what the world was merely a year ago, is fucking pointless. No matter how much he hopes, how much he dreams, how much he begs and pleads to a god he never really believed in to begin with, nothing brings her back.

The scent makes his stomach churn the stronger it gets. It’s not like any omega he’s ever known before. They’ve all been… a little bitter. Or maybe his ex just left a tainted trace in his nose, spoiled it for everyone else. He’s never needed a partner to feel complete, anyway. Being a father is what gives him purpose. Gave him purpose.

He pushes that train of thought from mind, sets his jaw, and marches on.

The funny thing is, they’ve spent a lot of time in these woods–Tess, Tommy, and him. For as close to the QZ as it is, they’ve never met a single other soul in these parts.

That’s why, when Joel senses your pheromones only getting stronger as they forge on, he thinks about saying something. They’re headed straight towards you, into what must be a trap. The Atlanta QZ doesn’t take omegas; there’s no reason one should be so close. If he was smart, he’d make sure that the group avoids you at all costs. But there’s a deep, primal part of him that forces him to keep his mouth shut just as he’s about to open it and suggest rerouting their journey. He wants to investigate, to find out if you’re really as sweet as you smell.

He can tell Tommy and Tess are thinking along the same lines, and it makes his teeth grit together, eyes pinched in frustration. There’s an underlying possessiveness in every further stride he takes, eyes boring into the backs of his pack members’ heads while he takes position at the rear of the group.

This is why people used to say that alphas couldn’t work together, he realizes. Not that it’s ever been an issue for him before–but he’s never smelled an omega he’s wanted so much before, either. Tommy was always the tail-chaser, before everything went to shit; he was constantly getting himself into trouble, and Joel would constantly bail him out. And Tess… he’s never met an alpha quite like her. He’s never seen her with an omega, either; never bothered asking if she had one before the outbreak. But she’s compassionate, if a bit tough. She doesn’t seem like the main threat right now.

This is what he’s always hated about these god-forsaken roles. He watches Tommy’s pace pick up a little, sees the younger Miller’s nose tilt ever-so-slightly to the wind, and in this moment he sees his own brother as a threat. That’s something that should never have had to happen. But a pack of three, and all alphas… it was bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe they’ve all been fooling themselves.

It’s been great for them thus far, being able to use each other when necessary without fear of repercussions, but there also hasn’t been an omega in the picture yet. Now, with heavy pheromones swirling invisibly between the three of them, a subtle and silent struggle for dominance starts to rear its ugly head.

The scent only grows stronger, and it makes Joel worry. It’s heady, damn near overwhelming. Joel’s never witnessed an omega so close to heat without actually being in heat. The pull of your pheromones is dangerous–it’ll draw in every alpha within a range of miles, maybe even some from the QZ with how close you are. The range will only grow once your heat actually breaks out. The pack is heading directly towards the source of great danger, and all three of them know it. Even still, all three of them are powerless to stop it.

Joel spots you first. You’re nestled under a tree, sound asleep, half-camouflaged by a blanket of orange and brown leaves. You’re gorgeous, there’s no other way to describe you, and with your pheromones flooding his senses it’s nearly impossible for him to hold back from approaching you.

He reaches out a quick hand and grabs his brother’s arm just as he’s about to step towards you.

“Don’t,” Joel growls from deep in his chest. His eyes dart around quickly, searching every inch of autumn foliage for some sign of the trap this must be. They’ve heard about this exact kind of trap before, and Joel mentally curses himself for falling right into it despite knowing better.

Hardly any unmarked omegas survived outbreak day. Many of the few that did were captured by large groups of malicious betas and put into traps, their heats used to lure in alphas who were then exterminated en masse. Joel and his pack have been lucky not to encounter such a trap yet, but everyone’s luck runs out eventually.

They stand, they watch you, and they wait for the other boot to drop.

But it doesn’t. You sleep peacefully, albeit squirming a little bit, and no one else comes. There’s nothing but the sound of birds chirping in the distance and wind rustling the bare branches of the trees overhead.

All of a sudden, you wake. Your entire body jolts, nostrils flaring at the heavy and suddenly overwhelming scent of alpha. Your beautiful eyes widen with fear, and Joel sees you're about to make a break for it.

Without thinking, he steps forward and holds a hand out in front of him–a sign of goodwill. “Easy, omega. We ain’t gonna hurtcha.”

Your chest heaves with panting breaths, but you don’t move yet. You’re smart, he thinks. You know you can’t outrun all three of them.

“You’re in a spot a’trouble,” Joel continues, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible as he takes another tiny step closer to you. “Could smell your heat comin’ on from miles away. What’s a li’l thing like you doin’ out in the woods all alone?”

“Going to the QZ.” There’s a firmness behind your tone–how brave you are, he thinks. And how stupid.

“Where you comin’ from?” He asks–prying, but gently.

You look apprehensive, but you answer anyway. “Tennessee.”

“Didn’t do your research, did you sweetheart?” He grumbles as gently as he can. “Atlanta don’t take omegas. You go there, ‘specially in the state you’re in, you’ll be shot on sight.”

He can almost see the gears turning in your head, albeit slowly given your state; you’re wondering if he’s really telling the truth, if you can really trust him. You’re wondering why he hasn’t leaped at you yet.

You gulp and plant your hands in the dirt at your sides as if you’re getting ready to stand, but you don’t move yet.

Tommy takes a quick step forward, and Joel sees the way you flinch at the sharp crack of a twig underneath the younger Miller’s boot.

“Joel–”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, a little harsher than he means to. “Don’t you fuckin’ move, Tommy. I mean it.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whisper, hardly louder than the breeze. And then he sees it–the first pang of heat, your face screwing up in pain and your body squirming uncomfortably on the forest floor. You try not to show it, but Joel catches it anyway. Your heat is here, and his instincts take over.

“Fuck off,” he snarls, stepping firmly between Tommy and you. Tess steps forward, mouth agape in some mixture of shock and confusion, and Joel swivels his burning gaze to her. “Both of you. Fuck off. Go on ahead to Atlanta, I’ll meet up with you there.”

Tess doesn’t look affected, just concerned. “Joel, what the–”

“Go!” He roars. There’s no room for argument, even though Tommy opens his mouth like he might try. In the end, they know there’s no winning. Not right now, not with Joel’s pheromones rising and his eyes so dark. They hesitate just a moment, slowly back away, and then finally admit defeat and vanish into the trees.

Once they’re gone, you don’t try to hide your pain as much. A whimper escapes your lips as you squeeze your thighs together and all pretense falls away.

“You okay, little one?” He drops to his knees beside you so he can give you a better look. It’s clear that the road you’ve traveled has not been easy on you–he’s amazed you’ve survived as long as you have all on your own. You’re disheveled and dirty, maybe even worse off than he is. You look like you haven’t eaten in days, and the simple t-shirt covering you isn’t nearly warm enough to protect you from the chill riding in on the late autumn breeze.

Joel’s quick to rip his jacket off and drape it around your trembling shoulders–he feels a strange surge of pride when you quickly pull the fabric tightly around you and nuzzle your face into the collar for a deep inhale of his scent.

“Talk to me, omega.” His voice is deep, demanding. “You doin’ okay? What can I do to help?”

“Alpha…” Your voice is so quiet, and all he wants is to take you into his arms. But now of all times is not the time to be hasty. As much as he wants you, he refuses to take advantage of you.

“It hurts, alpha,” you continue quietly.

“I know, baby.” The sweet ting of southern accent in his voice seeps into your very veins and warms you from head to toe with each rapid thump of your heart. “How can I help?”

You reach a shaky hand towards him and he meets you halfway, marveling at how small your hand is compared to his paw. He never really considered himself a big guy until this moment, seeing you so small and helpless beside him. Clearly it’s affecting you too–he sees the way your thighs clench tightly together the second he touches you.

“I trust you,” you murmur so sweetly.

For a moment, he considers running. He’s done horrible things with the hands that now hold you so gently. He’s not one to be trusted. He’ll only end up hurting you.

“Your scent’s gonna draw more alphas in, baby,” he coos deeply. “There’s a whole QZ fullav’em just a couple miles away. It ain’t safe to be out in the open like this.”

But there’s no logic or reason left in your gaze–you nuzzle your face into his neck so you can inhale his scent straight from the source, and Joel knows there’s only one way this ends without some worse alpha coming along and hurting or killing you.

“Need you, alpha,” you plead as shiny tears fill your pretty eyes. “Please, it hurts so bad.”

Joel wonders if this is your first heat–it sure seems like it. You’ve probably been on suppressants since the day you presented. Every bone in his body screams for you; screams to take your pain away, to soothe you with his own body, to make you his.

He’s never felt so much like an alpha as he does in this moment, when your heat gets the better of you and you fuze your mouth to his in a searing kiss.

Joel actually moans into your mouth. It’s deep and a little louder than he means to be, caught off guard by the suddenness of the kiss but even more by how sweet you taste. Your scent didn’t do you justice, really. He’s never gotten addicted to someone from their kiss alone before, and yet just as suddenly as it started he needs more. He needs to devour you whole, to claim every inch of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else. Even as he licks into your mouth and easily takes control of your mouth with his tongue, he knows this is going to end badly. He also knows that he doesn’t care.

“Sweet little thing,” he coos as he tugs you to straddle his lap. You can feel the insistent press of his hardening bulge against your core, and you grind down so hard he hisses. “Easy baby, I gotcha.”

“Alpha, please…”

“Gotta have some patience, omega,” he tells you firmly. “I’ll take care’a ya, but I gotta getcha ready first. Don’t wanna hurtcha.”

You kind of want it to hurt, you kind of want him to burn himself into your very soul, but you don’t say as much out loud. You probably couldn’t form the words anyway–all that comes from your mouth is a needy little whimper.

“Hush, omega, you’re okay,” he whispers into your ear as he lays you back against the fallen leaves, one hand carefully cushioning your head while the other pulls your thigh open so he can slot himself between your legs. “M’gonna make it all better, just gotta be good f’me.”

“Alpha…” You feel the first ounce of relief as he drags your jeans and underwear down your legs in one smooth motion. Your burning skin is met with cool air and it feels incredible. Nearly as incredible as the sensation of his kisses tracing down your body, even through the fabric of your t-shirt that he leaves in place because he doesn’t want you getting cold no matter how much it feels like you might spontaneously combust if you don’t feel him inside you soon.

“You’re gonna be good for me, arentcha?” He hums against the hem of your t-shirt, just above where you so desperately need him.

“Yes, alpha,” you breathe as politely as you can manage.

His lips latch onto your clit as soon as the words have left your mouth. He knows exactly what you need–none of that torturous rapid flicking that you’ve experienced in the past but firm, honest-to-god, get-the-job-done suction.

He slips a finger into your dripping entrance and it’s honestly amazing that you don’t come right on the spot. Just that one thick finger is a stretch–it makes you arch your hips up off the ground, desperate to get away from the onslaught of pleasure and yet simultaneously wanting more.

“I know, sweetie,” he coos against your clit, slowly curling his finger until he finds the spot that makes your thighs tremble. “Feels good, doesn’it?”

“Y-yes, oh my–”

He throws all pretense out the window and adds two more fingers, filling you to your breaking point. You shatter without warning as he increases the pressure on your clit, thighs quivering and hips bucking pathetically as your warmth coats his chin. Your entire body wracks as he works you through it, fingers curling against your g-spot as his lips mercifully release your clit with an obscene pop.

“That’s right, baby,” he coos proudly. “So good f’me.”

You’re panting as you come down, satisfied for one beautiful moment even as he pulls his fingers from you so he can kiss his way back up to your mouth.

He slots between your legs so he can lick into your mouth again, and the taste of your own pleasure on his tongue makes everything come crashing back down. Your cunt clenches hard around nothing, and you groan out in pain and need for him.

He grunts when your legs lock around his sturdy waist, feet pressing into his ass to grind his heavy, jean-clad cock into your soaked folds. He moans from the very pit of his stomach, surprised at the sudden movement–and then he presses even harder, grinding himself so firmly against your cunt that you swear you can feel the outline of his mushroom head even through the layers of clothing he still wears.

“Tell me you want this, omega,” he pants into your ear, still pressed so tightly to you as he reaches down to tug his belt open. “Tell me to fuck you.”

“Please, alpha.” You’re trying so hard not to sound whiny, but you’re failing miserably. “Please fuck me.”

Joel simply adores how sweetly you ask for what you need. God, he doesn’t even know your name, but it’s taking everything in him not to claim you for the rest of eternity.

Would that really be so bad? Clearly you’re a survivor if you’ve made it this far, and as an omega no less. You could be a valuable addition to the pack.

But really, it’s the thought of having you as a home to come back to that gets him tugging his cock out of his jeans to the symphony of your quiet moans and pleas. He thinks about having a lovingly-crafted nest and the sweetest, tightest cunt he’s ever known waiting for him at the end of a long day, and it takes everything in him not to blow his load right then and there.

He knows he doesn’t deserve this, but he’s willing to be selfish anyway. Just this once.

“Holy shit,” you gasp when you look down and see the firm length of him, barely contained in his big hand. He’s thick and weeping precum, tip stained a dark maroon from sitting in his jeans untouched this long. He’s nothing like the betas you entertained yourself with before the outbreak–you’ve never even really seen an alpha’s cock in person, and certainly none this large.

He must see the apprehension in your gaze, because he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger so he can raise your face to meet his dark, brooding eyes. “You tell me if it hurts, okay? Don’t wanna hurt you, wanna help you feel better.”

You don’t know why, but you trust him. So you nod, and you tug him into a deep kiss.

The first press of him into your waiting core has your mouth dropping open, head pressing back into the hand that cups the back of your head. He keeps you pressed so firmly against his entire body as he inches in. He’s so attentive, pulling back to watch your face for any sign of discomfort as he rocks his hips, pushing an inch deeper with every shallow thrust until the base of him settles as tightly against you as he can.

He doesn’t find anything in your expression other than pure euphoria.

He kisses you, breathless and messy, as he wills himself to stay still while fully sheathed in your tight heat. Damn it all, he’s fighting so hard for control. He’s never had someone squeeze him so perfectly, so warmly. Your cunt is pure, unadulterated heaven.

“A-alpha,” you whine once you’re ready, but he can’t move. Not yet. You’re his omega, he needs to take care of you, and he’s far too close to spilling himself deep inside your cunt and pressing even deeper so his knot can take root. He could never live with himself if he disappointed you like that.

“Please, alpha,” you try again, and the unrelenting need is what does him in. You need him, not just anyone. No one else could satisfy you how he does–he’s sure of it.

With the first true thrust of his hips, a wave of pheromones rushes over his senses. He basks in the scent of you, nearly high on it, and then the danger of this comes crashing back to him.

He thrusts deep, makes your toes curl and your chest heave, and he asks a weighted question as the pace continues. “This your first heat?”

You nod your head, barely even able to process his words. “R-ran out of s-suppressants.”

Fuck. He knew it. You don’t even seem to realize the danger, the calling card that you’re putting on display for every alpha within a ten mile radius. It’s a miracle that no one has shown up–everyone in Atlanta is probably wise to the trap scheme, luckily. But luck runs out eventually, and someone’s going to end up taking a chance for your delectable scent.

“Others’re gonna smell you, omega,” he growls as he grinds deep. “Ain’t safe to be unmarked out here. They’ll come f’ya.”

The pleasure is unbearable–toe-curling, blood-boiling, thigh-quaking. All you can do is sob and whine as his big cock fucks into you and hits exactly the right spot with every thrust.

“Gotta mark ya,” he continues quietly. “Only way to keep you safe, baby.”

You come out of your reverie a little bit at that; but deep down, you know he’s right. The only way you’ve been able to survive so long was a stockpile of suppressants you were lucky enough to get your hands on. But they’re gone, and with them your chances of surviving much longer. Unless you let this stranger mark you–the most intimate gesture possible.

“Okay,” you breathe against his neck. “Mark me.”

Your cunt clenches unbearably tight around his shaft as his teeth dig sharply into the base of your neck. Your taste floods his mouth, heady and warm–in combination with your legs locked around his waist, he can’t stop it. He’s coming before he can warn you, hot ropes of seed coating every inch of you, seemingly endless. And then, without thinking, he presses that little bit deeper so his knot can fill you to your limit.

You sob at the sensation, nails digging into his shirt-clad back in a feeble attempt to tamp down the overload of pleasure at the sudden stretch of his thick knot in your tight cunt.

“Fuckfuckfuck–” he growls into your bitten neck, grinding himself as deep as he can as his cock pulses within your tight walls. “Oh fuck omega, I’m sorry–”

You hush him to the best of your breathless ability as your hands smooth through his sweaty brown hair and down over his shoulders. “It’s okay. It’s okay, alpha. You made it so much better.”

There’s a long moment of silence, Joel’s mind swirling with so many thoughts that he can’t focus on a single one. You coax him through it silently, hands smoothing over the fabric of his shirt as your breathing slowly comes.

You’ve never felt so full, so complete. His scent surrounds you and fills you; nothing has ever felt quite so right.

You realize vaguely that he’s licking the blood from the teeth marks on your neck, and you think now’s as good a time as any to give him your name.

He looks up at you, confused for a moment, and then a warm laugh bubbles from his throat. God, he can’t remember the last time he actually laughed. What are you doing to him?

“Joel Miller,” he introduces himself back. “M’sorry, I shoulda started with that.”

His arms are getting shaky from supporting his weight above you, so he grabs firmly onto your waist and rolls smoothly onto his back with you rested snugly against his chest.

“M’sorry,” he repeats again as he feels his swollen knot pulse within you at the slight movement of your hips. “I meant to pull out, I–”

“I wanted it,” you tell him. “I wouldn’t let you. I’m sorry too.”

He gulps, nods once as a hand idly comes up to cradle your head. “I’ve got a guy in the QZ. He can get us a pill. But we’ve gotta be more careful next time.”

“Next time?”

“That was just the first round, baby,” he explains quietly. “Heats can last days, even a week. You’ll need a lot more care ‘fore it’s over.”

“Oh.” You feel so dumb, getting your education from someone whose knot is currently swollen inside you.

“We’ll get a pill,” he promises. “And I’ll pull out next time.”

“You’re… not leaving?” You’ve tried so hard not to have any false pretenses about this. You figured from the get go that he’d leave as soon as his knot went down and you’d never see him again.

He sighs heavily and runs a hand over the patchy brown hair on his chin. “Look, I… you met the rest’a my pack earlier, sorta. There’s just the three of us. We’re not good people, but… we’ll keep you safe. And you seem like you’re able to earn your keep.”

“I am,” you’re quick to assert.

“And I’ve marked you,” he adds. “Can’t just leave ya out here to fend for yourself. You’re my omega now.”

You don’t know why, but the words make your heart flutter.

You and Joel catch up to Tommy and Tess at the edge of the QZ, just in time for the meeting with their contact. Joel had explained to you on the way that it was an old acquaintance, a guy they’d met in Texas shortly after the outbreak who they’d worked with for a few months before he joined up with FEDRA. Now he sneaks supplies out to them in exchange for rarities from the other QZs.

That’s what the pack does, Joel had explained. They’re smugglers–they distribute things illegally between all the different continental quarantine zones.

Tommy and Tess see the two of you coming, and they’re instantly on guard. It only gets worse when Tommy recognizes the brown leather jacket wrapped tightly around your torso to shield you from the breeze.

“Joel.”

Joel tries to ignore Tommy’s call, but there’s not much he can do.

“Joel, what the fuck’ve you done?”

Joel supposes Tommy’s outrage is justified, but he shields you from it anyway. Truth be told, he doesn’t rightly know just what he’s gotten himself into with you.

➔ beta: @futuraa-free (thank u honey i love u)

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #alpha! joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #cece writes #series: maroon

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luveline · 8 months

Note

Hi Jade! I’ve been on my criminal minds rerun and it made me come up with this Spencer request if you’re taking them right now! Something along the lines of the reader and Spencer being together and she becomes pregnant but he pieces it together before she does!

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok♡ 1k

cw fem!reader has a positive attitude towards her pregnancy. vaguely adult theme

"I really don't think I can go," you say, flopping down on the bed.

Spencer laughs and shakes out the shirt in his hands, hoping the creases from the dryer will iron themselves before dinner tonight. "You always say that."

"I really mean it this time. I miss Hotch, I do, and I'm glad he's out of WITSEC, but thinking about the restaurant is making me queasy."

"Really? I looked it up, it's a nice place. They have their Grade A, it should be spotless in there. I'm pretty sure they almost got a Michelin star."

You groan, turning onto your side. "I looked too. The entire menu is seafood," you whine.

"What's wrong with that?" Spencer asks, giving you a quizzical look.

"The smell." You rub your nose against his pillow and sigh. "I don't feel good. Didn't rough me up in my sleep, did you?"

"I would never do that," he says, putting the last of the laundry aside to sit by your hip. His hand rests naturally against the slight curve of your side, fingertips pushing the hem of your shirt up enough to steal a glance at your back.

He wouldn't say this aloud and it doesn't matter, but you've gained a little weight recently. Actually, it does matter in that he thinks it's adorable, but he knows that telling your partner they've gained weight is a faux pas. He likes it, anyhow. It's happy weight.

Things are so serious now but they don't feel serious. There's no solemness in your relationship, just comfort. He's putting on weight in tandem.

"You really don't want to go?" Spencer asks. The earlier he lets Hotch know the better.

You wrap an arm around your stomach. "Sorry, Spence. I'm so sorry, I've felt sick all day and I think it'll just be a repeat of yesterday morning." You puked before breakfast, the smell of eggs too much to bear.

Spencer feels it click into place then and there. The weight, the puking, your changing taste. Your sore chest and lower back, your sensitivity.

He pushes you gently, a hand on your hip to encourage you down. Careful, he lays down next to you, propping his head on the pillow as he brings hand up to hold you. He can't know for sure… but if you're pregnant as he suspects, it fits. And more than that, it's insane. He doesn't know how to handle this besides wrapping you up in his arms. He'll keep you forever, if he can.

"Don't be sorry," he says, his voice faraway. You relax completely in his arms, sliding your leg over his to lock him in. "Does your back still hurt?"

"My chest, Spence," you lament, "it feels like I'm winded. I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe you shouldn't be near me."

"In that case, I'm staying right here."

You laugh softly, the warmth of it a circle on his shoulder. "I can call Hotch myself and say sorry. I'll feel better in a few days, and we'll reschedule, and I'll pay even if he tries to."

Spencer draws a line up your back. Now or never.

He steels his nerves, the beginning of a hypothesis hesitating on his tongue. Your symptoms in addition to your irregular period and your regular sex lives points toward pregnancy. How does he say that? How should he say it? Should he even bring it up? Perhaps he should wait until you discover it yourself. And you aren't definitely pregnant, it's just a possibility. Maybe you're simply sick—

"Hey, earth to handsome," you whisper, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. You smile as he snaps out of his thoughts. "Hey. I lost you for a few seconds, where'd you go?"

"Nowhere. I'm here."

Your smile gets impossibly fond. It's not dissimilar to how you usually look at him. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. I love you."

"I love you," you say.

There's something about you now, this gaussian blur to you. Sunlight seeps in lazily through the blinds thick as honey, a golden kiss to your skin where you lay face to face with him, and your I love you makes him want to cry. This is all ridiculous and amazing and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to make his mouth move into the right words.

"What is it?" you ask. You know him better than anyone.

"I think you're pregnant." Spencer winces, though he can't beat his smile into submission. "I mean. You could be pregnant."

"Why do you think that?" you ask, visibly startled.

"Your sensitivity to strong smells, your soreness, your late period, to name the more obvious. That's not factoring in your worsening low iron lately, and your headaches." You make a strange sound he doesn't like. "What?" he asks worriedly.

"I'm late," you say into yourself, looking past him as you puzzle it over.

"It's a good thing, if you are. I mean, it's an amazing thing if you want it to be. I'm saying everything wrong. It's only amazing if you want it to be, I want it to be. But I'm on your side no matter what." He grimaces into his hands, rubbing his face with both palms.

You sit as he panics. He clicks his neck looking up, racing to follow you, alarmed as you shimmy down the bed toward the ensuite bathroom.

"What are you–"

"I'm gonna take a test."

"Wait a second." Spencer catches your hands before you can get too far, pulling you back to the end of the bed to sit down. "Wait. Is it– is it bad? If you are?"

You look down at your stomach briefly. Anyone else might miss it, but Spencer can't not follow your behaviour, and the way you're acting now makes him think he got it wrong. That you won't be happy.

You grab Spencer's hand. "You know, it's not funny. All our friends are gonna ask how I found out, and I'm gonna have to admit that you noticed it first." Your eyes track up his face almost shyly, and soon your smile is as blistering as his.

Spencer bends under your weight as you jump up, throwing your arms behind his neck, your lips smashed to his ear. "I love you," you whisper urgently, "so much. This is good, right? This is really good."

"Are you kidding?" he asks incredulously.

Spencer takes your face into two hands and kisses you as hard as he ever has. He realises a second in that he'd much rather be squeezing you, caging you into the circle of his arms unrepentant.

"We have a really good excuse to miss dinner," Spencer says.

He sounds close to tears. You're worse, laughing wetly as you pull him into the bathroom to take your test.

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were-changing-cake-vaults · 26 days

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See, the thing is, Grian isn’t lying when he says that the snails aren’t his doing.

He gets why people are saying that; the timeline of him finally getting the stupid book and the snails emerging from the sea line up near-perfectly, as if they were another manic machination of his boredom. It’s also the fact that they just straight up came out of the sea, or at least should’ve- he swears up and down that the pink one shot down from the sky, he saw it with his own two eyes. But, considering he doesn’t control the sky, the pink snail cannot be his doing at the very least. And the teal one? The one that people are calling his snail? He just found it after a particularly stormy night, chilling on the docks, and he found it just so damn cute that he took it as a pet. Both of those aren’t Grian’s fault. They can’t be, by that logic.

But honestly, by now, he’s getting a little worried about the snails, in either case of his innocence with them. He’ll be the first to admit that he’s not the sanest person on the Hermitcraft server—he’s not sure who is, really, when everyone has their own things going on—particularly within the past few weeks, if the beard and book count as indication. His memory has been a little foggy for a while, so it very well could’ve been him putting snails everywhere, and he just flat-out forgot for one reason or another. Though, that doesn’t seem likely- he’s strong, but not strong enough to haul a giant snail out of the sea and onto a literal freight train, nor does he have the patience to meticulously choose snails that are sturdy enough to replace the wheels. That had to be a meticulous and pre-planned process, something Grian doesn’t really have the time for.

This leaves him with three conclusions: if it is him behind the snail acts, he’s not the only thing occupying his body. If it isn’t, well, there’s still something causing the snails to make their way through the works of Magic Mountain, and it certainly isn’t another hermit, based on their reactions. If it’s a mix of both—considering he’s found himself freeing snails from the cages Scar put them in without remembering how he got there—then the snails aren’t so cute anymore, and Grian’s just about ready to—

To—

He’s just—

Where was he?

Right. The snails. They’re not his doing, pinky promise. Grian got his book, he filled the prophecy, and he’s stopped fishing like it’s his last day on earth. The bit is over. He’s moved on- why would he beat a dead horse into the ground like that? Sure, he can still smell rot wafting from the river, but he’s Gem’s neighbor, and she’s got that whole fish horror thing going on, so it very well could be her. Nevermind the fact that they were eating her lighthouse, and she wouldn't do that to her own hard work. And sure, she came to him when a snail chose her--the way he said it would--but she was probably under the assumption that it was his, just like everyone else. It wasn’t. He’s sure it wasn’t.

The snails would explain his white-hot anger at Scar’s little cooking prank; the way Grian’s skin felt like it was burning every time he looked at the pan. How, despite knowing that his friend was just messing with him, every instinct was telling him to kill him where he stood, no mercy. How it felt like the same seething rage he felt when Scar had fished up a copy of the book weeks prior, and he’d done that very thing. And maybe, just maybe, it would explain how sometimes, on the nights where his dreams are the most vivid and gross, he wakes up in the Chamber, positioned as if in a prayer.

But if it is…

A streak of fear runs up his spine. The weather, despite his dedication to the sea released, is still stormy and grey. The water is still murky and washing slime up onto his shores. The dreams of the book haven’t stopped, despite him clutching it like a rosary on even good days. The whispers of the wind are an angry, menacing thing in his ear. He thought it would be over once he got what he wanted. He thought it would be enough to satisfy whatever the ocean needed from him.

There is a rod in his hands, he realizes. He throws it as far away as he can. It lands next to a clump of snails, who all turn to look at him with an otherworldly menace in their pitch black eyes.

Just what has he released onto his home?

#oceans calling au #grian #hermitcraft #geminitay #goodtimeswithscar #woosh writes #ITS BACK BAYBEEEEEEE #YOU THOUGHT OCEANS CALLING WAS DONE? LOL. LMAO EVEN #Gem said ‘there’s something in the water’ and I went OH IS THERE #is this kinda terrible? yeah. doesn’t matter.#anyways enjoy

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 8 months

Text

Halloween prompts year 2 day 5

Danny slid in through a sliding glass door, soaked to the bone and practically salivating at the smell of whatever the butler guy-Alfred, his name was Alfred-had in the oven.

"Master Damian, would you like a towel?" Danny nearly jumped when the man spoke, "Yes, please." Danny replied without thinking. Alfred raised an eyebrow before Danny hurriedly corrected his posture, "I mean, that would be lovely Pennyworth. Thank you." He managed to slap on a pretty convincing 'Damian Wayne' accent if he did say so himself but the butler didn't look convinced.

Danny silently chastised himself. If he wanted this to work out he needed to be convincing! Luckly Alfred didn't really question it and just went to go get him a towel.

Aka: Damian Wayne runs away at the beginning of summer break and homeless and starving Danny Fenton shape-shifts and takes his name and place.

Featuring: Alfred knowing something is up but not entirely sure what

Tim fully convinced Damian has been replaced Pod Person style but no one believes him

Bruce thinks Damian is making a bid for independence, especially since he's refusing to patrol with anyone and doing it solo (in reality Danny doesn't have any Robin training and he knows everyone will notice the difference)

Jason finds Dannys hidden stash of stolen food and survival supplies and thinks Damian believes they're gonna kick him out of the family or something and is bing extra nice and offered him a place to stay if things got too rough between him and Bruce. Danny accepted as Damian but was crying inside cause he knew this offer was for Damian and not him

Cass was in Hong Kong so Danny didn't have to worry about her but Talia caught wind of a second Damian acting as Robin and confronted him alone on a rooftop on night

Steph just thought Damian was maturing and becoming nicer

Damian himself had run away to the Kent farm and occasionally having adventures with Jon, unaware that any of this was happening

#halloween prompts #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #fanfiction prompts #prompts #batman #jon kent #damian wayne #imagine if Damian comes home and is like *im back!*#batfam: we didnt realize you left #damian: >:(#bonus points if Danny leaves a note at the end stating that Tim was right and bounces with the stolen food and stuff

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andvys · 2 months

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter eight ⭐︎ Say my name and everything just stops

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! jealousy, angst, low self-esteem (kinda?), mentions of the upside down. weed and alcohol consumption. I will not spoiler anything here, so read with caution

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You blindly began to follow your feelings, hanging onto a hope that died just as quickly as it came.

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I came up with this whole idea and we kept talking about this moment for weeks and now its finally here, I hope you guys are gonna enjoy it as much as we did hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

The spring wind blows through the open windows in your room, touching your skin and slightly lifting the ends of your new dress. The smell of vanilla and the floral scent of your perfume lingers in the air. You’re leaning closer to your mirror as you apply your favorite gloss to your lips.

A tingling, exciting feeling bubbles in your stomach, your heart jumping every few seconds or so at the thought of seeing him today.

Steve’s reactions were everything you were hoping for when you teased him at the diner and in his car, yesterday. His blushing cheeks and the wide, darkened eyes filled you with victory after you had placed a kiss upon his flushed skin. You are still not sure what had caused you the sudden rush of courage, but you’re glad that it hit you because the way he looked at you, the way he reacted, the way his breath hitched in his throat finally gave you the last push to do what you had always wanted to do. Today, you’re finally going to give in to your feelings.

The nervous, insecure part of you is telling you that there is still a big chance that he might reject you, that you will ruin this thing between you both by making the final move.

And usually that weak part of your mind would win, it would fill you with enough humiliating images to pull back, to make you rethink your decision, to keep you hiding in the shadows, the way you always did.

But you’re no longer letting it win.

You will do this, even if you might lose your dignity.

Placing the lip gloss back on your vanity, you reach for your favorite necklace, and put it on. You touch up your hair one last time, fixing your bangs before you take a step back, eying the red and white sundress, the little bows on the straps, the dainty flowers on the material, the shortness of it that exposes enough of your skin to drive him crazy… you hope.

‘Just make your move, babe. Do you really think King Steve would reject you?’

Your smile falls a little when Billy’s voice echoes in your mind.

Every memory of your best friend brings a hurtful pang to your heart.

He was the only one who knew about your feelings for Steve and surprisingly he kept encouraging you to ask him out, to make your move.

Would he be proud of you now?

Or would he still make fun of you for liking someone like Steve?

You step away from the mirror and walk over to the window, closing it before you leave your room and make your way downstairs. Eddie isn’t picking you up for once, even though he called you three times already, asking if he should come pick you up and if you’re truly feeling good enough to drive yourself again – you are. The headaches are gone, the dizziness is gone too. All that is left are the nightmares and the sudden rushes of anxiety but you are okay, you feel okay.

You walk over to the dresser in your hallway, reaching inside the key bowl to retrieve your car keys when something else catches your eye. The one single key, lying in there, you reach for it, furrowing your brows as you trace your finger along the metal, letting it fall in your palm.

You still remember the day when Max had showed up at your house, asking for you to take Billy’s car before Neil would destroy it in a moment of rage.

‘He’d want you to have it anyway.’ She said as she handed you the keys.

You remember how you broke down crying the moment you got into the driver's seat. You missed your best friend and it felt so wrong to sit in the place that once belonged to him.

You got the windshield fixed and anything else that needed to be repaired, before you parked it in your garage, planning to never open the gate again and just leave the car there until Max would ask for it back. And, you did leave it there, for a few weeks at least.

Your car broke down on a hot Friday afternoon and the mechanic at the local shop told you that it would take a few weeks to get it fixed. You walked and used the bus for a few days, and then the rain and the storms crashed upon Hawkins, giving you no choice but to take the blue Camaro.

Max even joked about it, she told you that it was Billy who caused your car to break down and who somehow let it rain and storm over the town so you would finally take his beloved car out for a ride because it’s just too pretty to be hidden and locked away in a dark, cold garage.

You’d sometimes drive around at night, when the streets were empty and no one was around.

When you visited your sister in Indianapolis, you took his car.

But now it’s been a while, the last time you sat behind that steering wheel was right before the apocalypse almost hit the town.

A sigh falls from your lips as you stare at the key.

“Not today,” you murmur as you place it back where it laid before and reach for your keys.

The drive to Eddie’s new place isn’t a long one, he only lives a few streets away from you now, it would only be a ten minute walk but you desperately waited for the moment when you could finally drive again, and you didn’t want to pass up on the opportunity today.

You missed this, sitting behind the steering wheel, instead of the passenger seat, longing to be the one in control. You missed picking the music yourself – not that Eddie’s music taste is a bad one, you just need a mix of everything, not just rock and heavy metal, sometimes you just need a girly pop song – not that you would ever admit it to him.

When you arrive at your destination and you pull up to Eddie’s driveway, you notice that Steve’s car isn’t there yet. Only Jonathan’s car is parked next to Eddie’s Impala.

Steve is never late, yesterday being the first time that he was the last one to arrive, so he is either still waiting for Robin or… running late is his new thing.

“There she is!” Eddie chuckles as opens the front door at the same time as you get out of your car, “and she’s here in one piece!”

A laugh tumbles from your lips as you close the door and lock your car before you make your way over to him, eying the new shirt he’s wearing – which is just another band tee that you have never heard of before. His curly hair up in a bun and a can of beer in his hand.

“I’m a good driver, what are you talking about, Eds?”

He furrows his brows, lips curling into an amused smile, “are you?”

You walk up the steps to his porch, greeting him with an eye roll, “you know what, next time I’ll pick you up.”

He smirks, using his index finger to point at your car.

“What, with your baby Mustang over there?”

You squint your eyes at him, “nope, I’ll take the hidden gem in my garage.”

“Wait what… What hidden gem?”

“You’ll find out,” you wink at him, trying to brush past him when he stops you, placing his hand on your arm, he pulls you back softly.

“Wait.”

You raise your brows at him, “yes?”

He’s got the twinkle in his eyes, the one he always has when he’s happy about something. His lip twitches, pale cheeks slowly changing color, he’s barely able to contain his excitement as he bounces on his feet.

“Guess who scored a date?”

Your eyes widen, lips parting as you remember the pretty waitress from the diner.

Eddie is blushing, lips now curling into a full smile.

“Oh my god, really?” You ask as a grin appears on your face.

“Yeah! I’m gonna take her out tomorrow night, I can’t fucking wait, sweets.” He says with a dreamy look in his eyes. “She was so sweet a-and fuck… she’s gorgeous, don’t know how she said yes to me.”

You frown at him, reaching your hand out to pinch his cheek, “you’re a handsome, sweet boy, Edward, now shush. You’re gonna knock her off her feet. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”

His eyes soften, he rubs the back of his neck before his fingers trace the scar on the side – you know that it’s now an insecurity of his, just like it is one of yours. Scars litter your skin from where a bat had left a gnarly wound on the back of your shoulder, from where Jason had hurt you, from where he had left reminders for you that he was the one who did this to you.

But your scars aren’t nearly half as bad as all the ones on his skin.

“I’ve never been on a date before,” he murmurs, eyes flashing with doubt.

“So? It’s gonna be even more special then,” you shrug.

“I just don’t wanna mess it up.”

“You won’t,” you smile at him, “you’ve got that special charm, one that makes others like you right away, you’re funny and you’re sweet, now stop doubting yourself or I’ll kick your ass and hunt down every asshole who ever made you feel otherwise.”

He chuckles at your words, though his eyes are still soft as he looks at you. He doesn’t doubt you, he knows that you would actually hunt down every name on the list of people who hurt him.

“Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good,” you say, sternly.

“Good,” he nods.

You stare at each other for a moment before you both burst into giggles. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and he pulls you inside his house, narrowing his eyes as he takes in your dress.

“Who’d you dress up for, sweets?” He asks, “there’s no hot guys here.”

“Well, aren’t you humble?”

“No hot guys besides me, of course,” he corrects himself after clearing his throat, smirking at you.

You only shake your head in response.

You pass by the kitchen and the big shelf that was specifically customized for Wayne’s mug collection. Vinyls are on the walls in the long hallway that leads to the living room where you hear the chatter of your friends and the faint music that sounds through the house.

The smell of weed already lingering in the air.

The sound of Nancy’s giggle, followed by a voice you hadn’t heard in a while makes you furrow your brows.

“Argyle is back?”

Your surprised voice along with the wide eyes you look at him with make him chuckle. He knew you weren’t paying attention when he told you about it days back. You were too distracted by whatever daydream you were stuck in as he let both you and Steve know that Argyle was coming back to spend the summer in Hawkins before going off to college in September – something that Eddie definitely won’t be doing, he won’t be going to college, he won’t be going anywhere, at least not now, not yet, maybe not ever, even though it’s all he ever wanted.

He walked the stupid stage, he snatched his diploma and he finally flipped Higgins the bird, despite the glares, despite the whispers of the people who still blamed him for what had happened weeks back but it doesn’t matter, he tells himself. It doesn’t matter what they say or think because he got people who believed him, people who care about him, people who were willing to fight for him, people who are worth staying for.

“Yeah, he’s here the whole summer.”

“Ooh, means we’re gonna get high a lot, cool,” you giggle.

“Like we don’t do that all that time,” Eddie rolls his eyes, though a smile tugs at his lips as he pushes towards the living room, your feet carrying you closer and closer to your friends.

Despite Steve not being here yet, you already feel the rush of excitement mixed with the nervousness of what you plan on doing, flushing through your veins.

Your eyes first fall on Jonathan and Nancy who are standing by the door that leads out into Eddie’s backyard, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, a smile tugging at her lips when she sees you.

“Hi!” She waves at you, a friendly look on her face.

“Hey,” you smile at her before you look over at her boyfriend, greeting him as well. You then turn your head to your right, your smile widening when your eyes meet Argyle’s already very dazed ones.

He stands up from his seat on the couch, his hair falling in front of his face a little, he opens his arms, revealing his Bob Marley shirt to you.

“Well look at what the cat dragged in,” he jokes as he steps towards you, “come here, chica.”

You chuckle, leaving Eddie’s side to greet Argyle, who instantly pulls you into a tight hug. The smell of weed enveloping you, right away.

“I didn’t know you’d be back so soon!”

“So soon?” He slurs, patting your head when you pull back again, chuckling when you swat his hand away. “You didn’t miss me?” He jokes as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, just the way Eddie did before, he pulls something out of his pocket, handing it to you, “here, got you a little gift from California.”

Your eyes lighten up in amusement, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at the blunt he’s holding, you take it, holding it up as you look up at him with a grin, “why thanks.”

“You gotta share that one with me,” Jonathan grins at you, lazily.

“You’ve had enough already,” Nancy rolls her eyes, though not without a smile on her lips. She pats his chest, “come on, let’s go outside.”

“Yeah, you guys go ahead, I’m gonna grab some more drinks,” Eddie says before he leaves the living room.

You all step out into the backyard, walking over to the little fire pit where the flames are already glowing, surrounded by the comfortable seats. The sound of water flowing from the stream filling the air with a fresh scent, the smell of flowers and the trees giving you a sense of peace.

Eddie’s backyard is comforting and nice, despite being close to the forest, it’s making you feel safe. He wouldn’t have this now if he hadn’t been dragged into a world of darkness – unlike you, he didn’t grow up in wealth, he didn’t have a fancy house, a fancy backyard with a pool. No. Eddie grew up in a lonesome house, one that certainly wasn’t as luxurious as yours or the one he lives in now. The house he grew up in was haunted by painful memories of his mother that he lost at a way too young age and his father who came and went as he pleased, it was the only thing that he had, the only thing he called his own, but that was taken from him too and he had no choice but to move in with his Uncle Wayne, who had done everything to give him a home – and now, Eddie gave him that back, he gave Wayne a home, a nice house with a nice roof over his head, a garden that he always wanted to have. Eddie had tried to keep the upside down a secret, he didn’t want to talk about what was out there, he didn’t want to worry him, he didn’t want to tell him where all the money actually came from but Wayne isn’t stupid and Eddie isn’t exactly the best at keeping secrets from the people he loves and cares about.

You wonder what you would have told your parents if they were still here – would you have told them the truth about what actually happened at the Creel house? Or would you have kept it all a secret? You are certainly much better at keeping secrets hidden. Eddie couldn’t even look Wayne in the eyes when he told him that the bite marks on his skin came from a rabid dog and not from interdimensional bats.

Something cold touches your shoulder, making you flinch in surprise. You tilt your head up, meeting the eyes of your best friend again, “where’s your head at, sweets?” He chuckles, holding the can of diet pepsi out to you.

With furrowed brows, you look down at the drink and reach for it, “thanks,” you murmur, “and uh, nowhere. I’m just fascinated by your backyard.”

His dimples show when a laugh escapes him, he takes a seat beside you, snatching away the blunt from your lap, he places it between his lips and uses his red lighter to light it up. He lets out a content sigh as he leans back, puffing out the smoke into the sky before he takes a look around, “it’s nice isn’t it?”

You nod, pulling the tab on your pepsi, it opens with a pop.

“It’s better than mine.”

He turns his head to look at you, a bewildered look on his face, “you’re crazy, sweets. You got a pool.”

“You got one too!” You chuckle, pointing to the pool that has yet to be used, it’s warm out, not hot yet.

“Yeah, well yours is fucking huge, and you got a hot tub too!”

“You got a hot tub, chica?” Argyle gasps from your right, “oh, you’re rich rich.”

“Correction, my parents were rich.”

“Correction, we’re all rich now,” Jonathan adds, pointing at you with a dazed smile.

“Rich isn’t exactly the term I would use,” Nancy mumbles as she takes a sip of her soda.

“Then what term would you use, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, shaking his head at her, “enlighten us.”

Nancy clears her throat, placing her elbow on the wooden armrest, “we’re taken care of.”

Jonathan snorts, putting his hand on her thigh as he gives her an amused smile, while she already rolls her eyes at whatever is about to leave his mouth – there’s no annoyance behind her eyes though, no tension in her body from where he touched her, unlike with Steve, who she always looked tense and irritated with. Back then you didn’t understand why, there were so many questions in your mind when you watched them and when she left him – how could anyone be irritated with Steve? How could anyone be tense with someone that provides so much love and warmth to the people he so deeply cares about? How could she leave him? How could she break his heart? Who could ever hurt Steve Harrington?

“Just admit it, we’re rich.”

A groan echoes through the backyard, one that doesn’t belong to Eddie, Nancy or anyone else sitting in the circle. You all turn your heads towards the house, finding a very annoyed Robin making her way over to you, a six pack of beers in her hand, sunglasses perched on her nose even though the sun is starting to go down already.

Eddie isn’t surprised at her barging into his home, she does it all the time, to him, to you, to Steve, he doesn’t mind it though.

You straighten your back, holding your drink tighter as you look away from her, waiting for Steve to walk through the door.

The feelings inside of you start to rise again, your heart picking up the pace as your skin starts burning from the excitement.

Robin plops down in the seat next to Eddie, placing the beers on the ground as she slumps back, sighing loudly.

Everyone’s watching her, expecting a rant already but you’re still fixated on the door, waiting for him.

“Buckley, why so angry?”

She pulls her sunglasses up into her hair, turning to face him, “I’m glad you asked,” she murmurs as she reaches for one of the beers, “Dingus ditched me, so I had to walk all the way here!” She throws her arms up dramatically.

You furrow your brows at her words, the burning on your skin beginning to die down just as fast as it came.

Argyle and Jonathan chuckle at her.

“You live 3 blocks away from here…” Nancy mumbles.

“Not the point, Nance,” she argues, glaring at her friend.

“Wait, so Steve isn’t coming?” Jonathan slurs.

Your eyes are wide and hopeful, your hand clutching the can tighter as you dig your feet into the grass beneath you, a weird feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Wetting his dick with Heidi seems more fucking important today,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes as she raises the beer to her lips.

Your heart drops.

The burning in your skin disappears completely as the fire is replaced by ice, the coldness of it freezing your whole body, stopping your heart and taking the false hope away as it kills every feeling that had taken home inside of you just seconds ago.

Your eyes are stuck on her like you’re waiting, waiting for her to laugh and say it was a joke, that he will be here soon, that he isn’t out with some other girl after what happened between you and him yesterday.

“Whoa, what?” Eddie mumbles, holding his hands up, “so… he’s on a date with the girl he didn’t want to keep seeing?”

“Yep.”

Every ounce of excitement is now replaced by the sickness in your stomach, the lump in your throat that makes you struggle to breathe.

What were you thinking?

That the game you played wasn't just a game to him? That it was something more than that? That he wanted you just the way you always wanted him? That he could ever feel something for you?

You don’t know whether you want to laugh at yourself or cry.

How saddening it is to long for someone who was forced to like you.

While you were getting ready, making yourself look pretty for him, thinking that he might like you in this dress – he was getting ready to take out another girl, a girl that he chose to like.

You slowly slump back in your seat when Eddie’s laughter pulls you back into reality. You blink, masking the shocked, pained look on your face with a relaxed one as you take a sip of your drink, hoping that it will get rid of the lump sitting in your throat – it doesn’t. Nothing does.

Your friends move on to another topic, while you stay there, where you will stay for a while now. The pain of the rejection that has never even taken place, slowly sinking in and everything around you begins to suffocate you – the dress you are wearing, the necklace around your neck, even the presence of your friends.

You don’t want to be here any longer, you need to be alone.

But you can’t go, not now, not yet.

It would be too soon, too obvious and they can’t know, no one can know about your feelings for Steve, about how much it hurts to feel that way for him.

So you hide the pain as best as you can, you nod along to your friends' conversation, you speak and you laugh when you have to, even when everything inside of you wants you to cry both out of sadness and anger.

You’re not even angry at him, you couldn’t be angry at him even if you tried to be. He doesn’t know about your feelings – if he did, he wouldn’t have filled you with false hope, you know he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t string you along, you know he’s not the type of person to do something like that, not even to you. But you really thought that you had something, that there was something between you, that’s why you let your walls crumble, that’s why you started acting upon your feelings, that’s why you were ready to do more than just the subtle touches and the flirtations.

You wait, you wait for the right moment to leave, when everyone is distracted enough, you get up, after whispering an apology, a lie into Eddie’s ear, knowing that he doesn’t believe you, that he will probably call you later or even show up to check on you. But he lets you go.

And as you leave your friends, making your way back into the house, their laughter echoes in your ears, their happy voices and the cheerfulness they’re all feeling, that you were supposed to feel too.

You blink back the tears, not wanting them to fall just yet.

You make your way back to your car, not wasting a second to start it and drive home, your vision blurred and your throat hurting from how much you want to cry.

How foolish it was of you to think that you could ever stand a chance – there was never one to begin with. You will always be the one in the shadows, the one to secretly watch him, the one to secretly want him, the one with the jealousy and the heartache, the one wishing to be anyone but herself because maybe then, he would want you too.

The smell of smoke from the campfire is now lingering on your clothes and in your hair, tears are now falling freely, ruining the makeup that you have spent hours on, the makeup that you can’t wait to wash off now.

You don’t even want to think about him.

You don’t want to ask yourself what he’s doing now.

He touched you so softly, so subtly, and yet it did everything to set your insides on fire, to make you feel special, even if only for a short moment.

Now he is touching someone else, in far more special ways.

A frustrated sigh falls from your lips when you step inside your home, it’s cold and empty, something that you have felt like for a very long time until he started the fire inside of you, only to make it die again… and all without his knowledge.

You walk up the stairs and past your room, going straight into the bathroom, feeling the need to wash away the day, as though it could ease the aching in your chest. You start the shower before you turn to the sink, not even bothering to look at your reflection in the mirror, it would only make you feel more pathetic.

You can feel the hot tears rolling down your cheeks, the quivering in your bottom lip.

You hate this, you hate the sadness that you shouldn’t be feeling in the first place.

You got no reason to be sad, you should have put your feelings aside, knowing that nothing would ever come out of it.

It was all so obvious, it was just teasing, nothing more, nothing less. Nothing ever happened, so why would it happen now? He just found another way of messing with you, so that you two wouldn’t go at each other's throats like before.

You just have to go back. No more teasing like this. No more letting yourself get sucked into delusions. He is just having fun while you crave something more with him and get hopeful.

You aren’t having fun. You wanted more.

You have no choice but to go back to how you were before this… thing started.

Once your makeup is off and your dress is now laying on the bathroom floor, you step inside the shower, letting the warmth envelope you, hoping for a sense of comfort from it.

Standing there for a moment, you let the water rain upon your skin, matching the pace of your tears that you’re willing away.

You will hunt Billy in the afterlife for making you believe that King Steve could ever want you.

You use your scented shampoo, hoping that it will get rid of the smell of smoke in your hair. You love campfire’s but you can’t stand the stench it leaves on your clothes and your hair.

Your hands run over your smooth skin as you wash your body, reminding you of the fact that you even shaved this morning – you couldn’t feel more stupid than you do right now.

Despite the loudness of your own voice cursing at you inwardly and the water hitting the glass, you hear the sound of your doorbell going off – multiple times.

��What the fuck,” you murmur in confusion.

It keeps ringing again and again – once, twice and it stops after a third time before it turns into rapid knocking.

You know it isn’t Eddie, he wouldn’t even have the patience to ring your doorbell and wait for you to open, he’d just barge right in.

You’d choose to ignore it if the person outside wasn’t so goddamn persistent.

You turn off the shower, squeezing the water from your hair before you get out, and wrap a towel around your body. The mirror is fogged, as the rest of the room is, you open the door and step out into the hallway, that now feels colder than before.

The knocking continues, filling you with anger.

Who shows up at night, knocking like a mad man?

Maybe you shouldn’t make your way downstairs now, maybe you shouldn’t open the door to whoever it is on the other side. It could be anyone or anything but you doubt that Vecna came back from the dead to knock on doors now and hunt you of all people – he could have done that weeks back, you went through enough trauma, he could have easily chosen you but even he didn’t want you.

You rip open the door, ready to curse and yell at whoever is terrorizing you at this hour but every word gets caught in your throat and even your breathing halts for a second as your glassy eyes meet the hazel ones that you have been missing all day. Frustration and anger swirling inside them, blazing fire raging behind his eyes. His cheeks are slightly flushed, his chest rising up and down heavily as he stands on your porch, looking better than ever.

“Steve?” His name tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it as you stare at him in confusion.

He eyes you up and down, taking in the sight of your exposed skin that is still dripping with water before he clenches his jaw, raising his hand to run his fingers through his hair, tugging at it.

Steve Harrington is fucked. He is utterly fucked. You have cursed him in every way possible, he can’t get you out of his mind, he can’t get you out of his system and the thought that you were only playing with him drove him insane. His hunger for you made him desperate, desperate for release.

So in his state of frustration and desperation, he called up Heidi, thinking that a date and sex with a girl he had been with before would help him move on and stop thinking about you but who was he fooling. He couldn’t even kiss her when she leaned in to greet him with her lips, he dodged her. He couldn’t even listen to the things she was telling him after they ordered their drinks. He couldn’t care less about her. All he could think about was you. All he wanted was you. He wanted your lips to kiss him, he wanted your hands to touch him, he wanted your body under his and the more he thought about it, the more he stopped caring about a possible humiliation after he’d finally make a move on you, he needed you, and he needed to try – if you’d reject him, then so be it, at least he would know and not live with the what if’s in his head.

He canceled the date in the middle of it, not caring about how messed up that was. He drove her home and without a second thought, he drove here, he came to you.

And now, you’re standing in front of him, in nothing but a towel, water rolling down your soft skin, big eyes filled with confusion, lips parted, lips that he wants to kiss until he grows breathless.

The sight in front of him does little to make any of this easier for him. You look like you’ve just walked out of one the dreams he had about you.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he murmurs under his breath, surprising you when he invites himself into your home, brushing past you with an intensity that almost knocks you off your feet.

You blink, turning around abruptly, a bewildered look replacing your confused one.

As you take in the sight of him, your sadness begins to dissolve as the anger you started to miss floods through your veins the longer you look at him.

You slam the door shut when the wind causes goosebumps to rise on your skin, you hold the towel tighter against your body as you glare at him, “what the fuck?”

“I have to be the one to say that!” He argues.

“Excuse me?” You scoff, your face now burning with rage. Every second that passes now makes you forget about the tears you just shed over him, irritation sparking inside of you so wildly that you want nothing more than to kick him out of your house for behaving that way towards you for no reason. “Weren’t you on a date with… Heidi?”

Steve clenches his jaw at the mocking voice, at the smirk now tugging on your lips. He chuckles, though not in amusement, he points a finger at you, “see, that’s what I’m fucking talking about!”

Your brows knit together at his outburst, the fire in his eyes growing stronger and bigger.

“Harrington, if you came to yell nonesense at me, just fucking leave!” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, making your way back towards the stairs.

But his scoff stops you.

“Oh, so you keep running away huh!? Didn’t you already get over that!?”

You turn around with nothing but anger boiling inside of you, “running away!? From what!?”

This should have been enough to make him turn around and leave, because clearly nothing changed, clearly this is still just a game to you – but he has hope, and he is desperate enough to throw every bit of his dignity away and risk something.

“Oh, don’t play fucking dumb right now. Acting like that for two weeks and pretending to be stupid is not a good look on you, Blondie.”

You take in a sharp breath, digging your fingers into your towel as you frown at him.

What does he want from you?

Why did he come here?

Was the date so bad, was the sex so awful that he had to come here to torture you?

Without another word, you turn around and you stomp up the stairs, not wanting to see him, not wanting to hear his voice anymore.

Your heart starts pounding in your chest again, and you can’t help but wonder – did he figure you out? Did he figure out your feelings? Is that why he is here? To confront you about them? To reject you?

You feel more and more stupid about what you had wanted to do when you woke up this morning.

Just when your feet carry you up to the second floor, and you rush across the hallway to walk into your room, his footsteps echo behind you, making you more irritated than before. You turn around to face him, but before you can even say anything, Steve is suddenly right in front of you, and his hands reach out to grab your waist, he pushes you against the wall behind you, gently, careful not to hurt you.

The gasp that falls from your lips startles you. His hands that touch the only thing that covers your body leaving your skin on fire. Your heart rate picks up so rapidly that it nearly steals your breath away. You look up into his golden brown orbs, the ones that are nearly black as he steps even closer, invading your space completely, making you breathe in the scent of his cologne, the one that has butterflies swirling in your stomach.

He catches you off guard completely.

You feel so vulnerable, so exposed as you stand there, caged in by his arms, his breath on your skin, his eyes that are filled with so much hunger.

The words die on your tongue, and yet, after you breathe in more of his scent, you open your mouth to speak.

“Shut up, Blondie… Just shut up for a second,” he murmurs, interrupting whatever words you had prepared to lie to him with.

His right hand leaves your waist, inching closer to your stomach as his fingers trace the hem of your towel, drool already forming in his mouth at the sight of you, he is ready to take you, ready to devour you and make you scream his name before he fucks you for only this time.

He notices the way your chest is moving, the way your breathing stutters.

“W-What are you doing, perv?” You stutter as you watch him play with the opening of your towel.

He can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at your insult.

“Perv? Are you going to continue to play fucking dumb?”

“Dumb? You are the dumb one if you think that I’m going to be the one to break into your teasing.”

Steve’s eyes flash with satisfaction.

This is what he wanted – to hear you admit that you were playing that game with him after all and not because you were playing him and stringing him along just to turn him down to gain something from it, whatever it might be. No. You were doing just what he was hoping for, all along.

You want him just as much as he wants you and that’s all he needs to know.

You roll your eyes at him, turning your head as you try to push your way out of his grasp but before you can even step away from him, his hands stop you but not on your waist this time. His large hands cup your cheeks, making you freeze. You stare at him wide eyed when he brings you closer, and you can’t even react before his whole body is suddenly pressed against yours, your heartbeat lurches into your throat.

As though his touch wasn’t shocking enough, his next move almost causes you to collapse, because now it isn’t only his body against yours, his hands on your cheeks or his breath on your skin, now it’s his lips… his lips on yours, his lips moving against yours in desperation as he takes every last of your breath and makes it his own.

You can’t do anything, you can’t move, you can’t breathe, you can’t even blink as you stare at him – how his eyes are closed and his cheeks are flushed, the furrowed brows as he kisses you with a kind of passion no one has ever kissed you with before.

Steve is kissing you.

Steve Harrington is kissing you.

His lips are moving roughly against yours, his hands holding your cheeks so softly, yet with an intensity.

This is all you ever wanted, to feel his touch and his lips on yours but you are too stunned to move, too surprised to kiss him back right now, too distracted wondering if this is real or not.

Along with the shock, you feel the slightest bit of insecurity flooding through you because even though he is kissing you, you can’t help but wonder why. Why isn’t he with Heidi? Why isn’t he kissing her right now? Did she turn him down? Did he come here because he just needed someone? Because he knew that you would fall for this? Or is this just another way for him to tease you?

Those questions prompt you to push him away, forcing him to break the kiss that he was so deeply lost in.

You notice the way he begrudgingly pulls away, the way he seems so drawn to your lips, the way his brows furrow in confusion now, his face is flushed and his pupils dilated as he looks at you with nothing but desperation in his eyes – he isn’t teasing, he wants you, he wants you right now and isn’t that all that matters? That he wants you?

His eyes stare into yours as he is breathing heavily. A flash of rejection takes over his features and by the look in his eyes, you can tell that he is beginning to get lost in his anxious thoughts – thoughts that you quickly shut down by making the move that he just made. You cup his cheeks and you pull him down, closing your eyes as you slam your lips against his for the very first time.

Unlike you, he wastes no second to reciprocate the kiss, a sigh of content leaving him as he presses you back against the wall.

Warmth blooms in your stomach, one that doesn’t stay the same temperature for long because the moment he deepens the kiss, the moment his hands hold you tighter and his knee parts your legs, sliding his thigh in between yours as the kiss gets rougher and rougher, you feel the warmth evolving into a deeper, burning sensation – a fire inside of you that only he can mend.

You can’t believe that this is happening, that something that you had been craving for years is now here.

And Steve, he feels his heart pounding in his chest from the rush, from the adrenaline, from his desperation that grows bigger and stronger when he feels just how much you want him as your lips move roughly with his.

You're hesitant with your touch, but when he grabs your face and pulls you even tighter against his body, his thigh pressing stronger against your core, you can’t help but throw your arms around his neck, digging your fingers into the hair that you’ve always wanted to touch.

You can feel him smirking against your lips when you moan into the kiss, which prompts you to tug at his hair and press your tongue against his bottom lip.

He welcomes it into his mouth so eagerly, his tongue now clashing against yours as his palms slide down to your waist while your hands reach for the front of his shirt, fisting the material tightly as you begin to drag him into your room.

You both know, you both feel where this is going, what this is leading to – what the past few weeks have been leading to.

You want this, you need this, you need him, even if just for tonight.

And you know, you already know that you will be done for, that he will ruin you for anyone else but you couldn’t care less, right now. Especially when he kisses you with so much roughness, everything about this setting all your insides on fire, leaving your skin burning and yet aching for more.

Steve is careful not to step on your bare feet as you lead him backwards into a different room. Excitement bubbles in his stomach and he grows even more breathless than before, he pulls away and breaks the kiss but doesn’t hesitate to latch his lips onto your neck, kissing and biting your flesh, “I fucking hate you, Blondie. I hate that I want you so much.”

Your lashes flutter as you close your eyes, tilting your head to the side as you feel your stomach and your heart fluttering at his touch, at his lips on your skin but especially at his words.

Your knees grow weak and a needy whimper falls from your puffy lips.

All that echoes in your mind now is I want you. I want you. I want you.

You don’t even care about the other things he said to you, you only care about the three little words you have only ever dreamt of before.

You almost fall when you feel the back of your legs hitting your bed, but he keeps you upright, not pushing you down just yet. He keeps nibbling on your neck, kissing, biting, sucking as he breathes heavily against you, growing harder against your stomach.

“Couldn’t even finish the fucking date, couldn’t do anything cause I kept thinking about you, Blondie,” he speaks into your neck, fingers now dangerously close to your bare skin behind the towel.

Your heart nearly explodes at his words and you can’t help but sigh in relief, knowing that nothing happened between him and Heidi. And all because of you.

“You drive me fucking crazy, I want to rip the towel right off–”

“Then do!” You whine, not caring about how eager and desperate you sound, “show me how much you hate me, Stevie.”

He pulls away from your neck after placing another wet kiss to your skin, strands of your hair getting caught in his as he faces you again, with flushed cheeks and almost black eyes he looks at you and takes in the sight of you, the pout on your lips, the flustered look on your face, big eyes that you are begging him with.

He doesn’t even bother to look around the room, just caring about the bed behind you.

He rips the towel off your body, letting it fall to the ground, his hands find your bare waist that he grips tightly as he throws you on the bed, smirking at the gasp that leaves your lips again.

Without hesitating to, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and rips it off.

Just like back then on the boat, when he took his shirt off before he jumped into the water, you stare at his chest, almost drooling at the delicious sight in front of you. His broad shoulders, the scar around his neck that makes him look even hotter, the hairs on his chest, the muscles in his arms that have visibly gotten bigger since high school. You bite your lip as your eyes move down, almost whining when you see the bulge in his tight jeans.

You wish you could run your finger down his chest and his stomach, tracing every little scar that the bats have left behind, but instead, you push yourself up, blushing at the fact that you are completely bare in front of him. You reach for his belt, fingers beginning to fumble with the metal when he stops you with a simple touch and a headshake.

“None of that,” he murmurs as he leans over, his hands digging between your ass and the mattress as he suddenly pulls you to the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees before you, he throws your legs over his shoulder and looks up at you with hooded eyes, “I need to hear you first.”

You nearly combust when you feel his breath on your pussy and his lips on your inner thighs. A whimper falling from your mouth as you try to close your legs out of instinct, blushing even harder than before.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he smirks, holding your thighs open as he teasingly slips a finger through your folds, “all for me, huh?”

You don’t answer but you don’t need to, the loud moan that you let out when he dives right into you with his tongue, gives him everything he needs to know.

He moans in content as he grabs your ass roughly, eyes rolling back when he tastes you for the first time, he almost starts drooling over you, finding pleasure in this.

He teasingly licks a stripe up from your entrance to your clit, circling the tip of his tongue around your already aching nub as he uses his fingers to part your lips.

You scrunch up your face as his tongue pleases you in ways your fingers never could, sighs and whimpers start escaping you as he now presses his thumb against your clit and he starts eating you out, his moans vibrating against you.

Your mouth falls open as your back arches in pleasure, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as you fall apart completely.

No words are spoken as you both just enjoy this moment of bliss, him getting lost in you, you getting lost in the pleasure he blesses you with.

You focus on everything and also on nothing – his whimpers send shivers through you, his tongue that he fucks you with making you gasp and drool, and despite the heaviness in your eyes, you manage to open them, wanting, needing to see him.

He eats you out slowly, yet desperately, fingers and tongue now working together to unravel you. His eyes are closed and he keeps moaning and whimpering as saliva runs down his chin. He looks so content, so pleased from only this.

Steve curls his fingers inside of you as he keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles on it.

Tears of pleasure prickle in your eyes as needy sounds keep escaping you. You hold the sheets even tighter now, closing your legs around his head, caging him in between them.

Steve finally opens his eyes, they darken even more now when he sees how you are falling apart for him, it only prompts him to fuck you even harder with his tongue and his two fingers.

Your moans and whimpers are enough to drive him crazy, enough to make the erection in his pants feel painful but he wants more, he needs to hear his name falling from your lips and he gets what he wants only seconds later when your body grows tense and your back arches again as a tear rolls down your cheek.

“Steve!” You nearly scream as you come undone, writhing beneath his touch.

You tilt your head to the side, bringing your hand up to your face, you bite your teeth into your knuckles as hot tears run down your flushed cheeks.

Steve laps at your pussy, moans still falling from his mouth. Only as you whimper weakly does he pull away from you, but not without giving your clit another teasing lick, causing you to spasm which only makes him chuckle darkly.

He carefully removes your legs from his shoulders and lets go of you before he rises back to his full height.

You instantly press your legs together, breathing heavily as you try to calm down from the orgasm he just gave you.

What Steve didn’t do before was take in the sight of your bare body, and now as he does it, he has to swallow harshly, his dick twitching in his jeans, begging for release. He finds himself aching for you, even more than before, he not only wants you, he needs you in ways he can’t even describe.

He watches the way your chest glistens with sweat, your nipples hard from the pleasure that curses through your body, your eyes are shut, your brows pulled together. He licks his lips before he bites down as his eyes trace every inch of your skin, the scars that make you look even more attractive.

It takes everything in him not to drop to his knees and taste you once again.

He needs you, he needs to feel you wrapped around his dick, he needs to hear your moans as he fills you to the brim, he needs to fuck you.

Steve unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking against each other, causing you to open your eyes at the sound.

You look at him through your glassy eyes, pushing yourself up on your elbows as you watch him unbutton his pants but before he pushes them down, he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket and you watch him curiously.

He opens it to take out the condom he had prepared for a different… less exciting occasion. He hastily pushes his pants and boxers down, his dick slaps against his stomach and he fails to notice the way your eyes widen or the way your lips part in surprise at the sight, at the size of him. He steps out of his shoes, cursing under his breath as he pushes them aside before he uses both hands to part your legs, getting on the mattress.

Before he rips the foil apart, he looks into your eyes, wanting your consent first but no words have to leave his mouth because you are the first to make the move, you sit up slightly, taking the tiny foil pack from his fingers, surprising him by bringing it up to your lips and ripping it open with your teeth.

Despite the streaks of tears on your skin, the fucked out look in your eyes, the shakiness in your body, you look at him so dangerously.

And he can’t do anything but watch you in awe for a moment, how you wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, pressing your thumb against his slit to tease him.

“O-Oh fuck…” He shudders, eyes nearly closing at only that.

You bite your bottom lip, trying not to drool as you roll the condom over his length. You look up at him again to find him staring at you with flushed cheeks and lust in his eyes. It’s dark in the room, but you can see each other just well enough, the moon shines brightly into your room tonight.

You can’t even help yourself when you cup his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss, closing your eyes when your lips meet again.

He grabs your waist, making you crawl back until you’re far enough on the mattress for your head to hit the pillows when he pushes you down. He presses his hands on your knees and you part your legs eagerly for him.

His fingers trace your skin as he brings his hand up, passing your hip bone and your waist and grabbing your boob with roughness as he slips his tongue into your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself. He pinches your nipple with his fingers, smirking against you when you whine and writhe underneath him.

You reach your hand down, not wanting to waste any more seconds, you wrap your hand around his dick again, jerking him off a few times before you line him up with your entrance, whining desperately again.

Steve breaks the kiss and opens his eyes to look at you, “you’re so desperate for my cock, huh?” He breathes, still playing with your nipple.

You raise yourself up a little, pecking his lips again as you nod your head.

He can’t believe that you are this needy for him, that you are giving him those eyes.

If only he knew how many times you have dreamt of this moment.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Please what, Blondie?” He teases you as his hand now slides down your stomach, fingertips brushing your clit, making you shiver.

You blink and you breathe heavily as you place your hand on his shoulder, “please fuck me, Steve… Please…”

A satisfied smirk appears on his face, your desperation making him feel smug – but the smugness quickly dissolves into something else when he pushes inside you and feels your tightness around him for the very first time.

You breathe in harshly and hold it, shutting your eyes when you feel him stretching you out. Nothing could have prepared you for this moment, not his tongue, not his fingers, nothing. The stretch is both painful and delicious, it makes you gasp but it also makes you drool as he inches deeper and deeper.

Steve can only curse and whimper in pleasure as he watches his cock disappearing inside of you, he doesn’t push in fully though, too scared to hurt you.

He bites his bottom lip, bottoming out again before he pushes back in, listening to the wet sound and the neediness in your voice as you moan.

“M-More,” you whine, your eyes now watching him, “please…”

His dick twitches at the sound of that and at the look on your face.

“Fuck me, Steve.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, he pushes in deeper than before, until he’s buried inside of you completely. Usually, he would take a moment to catch his breathe, to adjust to the tightness but he is too eager, too desperate for this. So he grabs your hips and he starts thrusting, slowly at first, not wanting to hurt you.

You gasp, hands finding the sheets beneath you again as your eyes follow the movement of his hips, watching the way his dick slides in and out of you. You throw your head back and look at his face next.

Strands of his hair fall in front of his eyes, his lips are puffy from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed. He is moaning, for you, because of you. You are in utter bliss, feeling pride swell in your chest when he moans even louder as you clench around him.

He watches the way he fucks you, eyes growing darker and darker and then, he looks at your chest, the way your tits bounce from the movements, something that prompts him to move his hips even faster, fucking into you harder now.

“F-Fuck,” you whine loudly.

His eyes meet your face and the pleasure on it is suddenly not enough for him, he wants to throw you over the edge, he needs to hear you scream for him.

He curses under his breath when you clench around him again.

Steve’s knees dig into the mattress, his fingers now holding you even stronger than before, he is sure to leave bruises but you don’t mind, you would never mind. He fastens his pace, railing into you and thrusting in and out of you, making you fall apart in the matter of a few seconds. You can’t speak, even if you tried. All that you can do is moan pathetically, letting him use you.

“You take me so well, holy shit, Blondie,” he whimpers, voicing out his thoughts, brows scrunching together as he watches you, your lips parted, moans that he only ever dreamt of leaving you. “L-Look at you, fuck. If I knew that my cock would shut you up, I would’ve done this a long time ago.”

“S-Steve!” You whine with a high pitched voice, something that only leads him to pound you even harder even if a tiny part of him wants to mock you.

Your eyes roll back, the tension in your stomach rolling back in, only stronger and hotter this time, and you already don’t know what to do with yourself, but when he suddenly reaches for your legs, hooking the back of your knees around his forearms, your eyes widen when they meet his again and a wicked smirk appears on his face as he starts fucking you from a different angle, snapping his hips into yours so wildly that you can’t help but cry out as your eyelids become droopy, tears now begging to be released, just like the drool that starts coming from the corner of your mouth.

The room now filled with nothing but the dirty sounds of your skin slapping together, the squelching noises from your pussy and his pleasing moans.

Steve watches you in awe, eyes growing wide when he sees just how cockdrunk you are for him.

He fucks you recklessly, eagerly and as though it is the last thing he will ever do.

Your tears fall freely, your whimpers turning into cries the moment his thumb finds your clit again.

He feels your walls clenching around him, gripping his twitching cock tightly – and he knows you’re close, he knows that he is close but he doesn’t want to stop, he doesn’t want this moment to be over.

Steve savors every second, pounding into you roughly and harshly, grabbing your face with his left hand when your head falls to the side, he needs to watch you, he needs to see you when you cum around him.

“You wanna cum for me?” He asks breathlessly.

You nod eagerly, without letting a word fall from your lips, you only nod and whine.

You feel the overstimulation rushing through you, the fire in your stomach that is about to burst into something bigger. You can feel him everywhere, he is so deep inside of you that it makes your body shake like crazy, but it feels good, so good that it almost wants to make you cry for different reasons when you think about how this could be a one time thing.

His hand leaves your face, he throws his palm into the pillow next to you, holding it tightly as his own eyes fall shut now, moaning your name as he picks up the pace of his fingers against your clit, his hips snapping faster into yours now.

“I-I’m–”

“I know, I know…” He coos, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck.

You feel the urge to feel him even closer, so despite the weakness in your body, you use every bit of your strength to lift your hand and press it against his warm back.

“Cum for me,” he whimpers into your neck before he bites into your flesh, marking you up for anyone to see.

A loud gasp tears out of you as his last thrusts grow rougher and his fingers move faster, you can’t help but dig your nails into his back, scratching him as stars blur your vision and the shockwaves grip your body so tightly as you cum around his cock, just as he spills into the condom, moaning into your neck.

You can’t even feel your tears nor the drool still coming out of your mouth, all that you can feel is him. Your arm now falls back onto the mattress and your eyes shutting as the darkness starts to envelope you.

“F-Fuck,” he whispers as he stops moving, pressing another kiss to your neck before he pulls out of you, hissing at the feeling.

He can feel your trembling body beneath his, the sighs that keep falling from your lips, he smugly pulls away to take a look at you, only to see your eyes dropping as you start to lose your consciousness.

“Shit,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks, “you okay, Blondie?”

You nod as best as you can, slapping his hand away as you snuggle into the pillows, not even bothering with the blanket.

He scratches the back of his neck, pressing his lips together as he watches you fall asleep so quickly. He can’t help but feel smug as he looks at the way your thighs are trembling still.

He stands up, leaving the room to walk into the bathroom, where the light is still turned on. He steps inside, noticing how the mirror is a little fogged, the smell of vanilla and strawberries lingering in the air, making his stomach flutter ever so slightly.

Discarded clothes lay on the ground, he picks them up and puts them on the counter before he rolls off the condom, tying it up before he throws it into the trash. He turns towards the sink and washes his hands before he walks back into your room, a smile tugging on his lips.

He plops down beside you, pulling the cover over you and himself, scooting closer to you.

He doesn’t know where this will go or what is going to happen tomorrow but as he looks at your stained face, and every single previous second replays in his head, he is sure of one thing.

There is not a single fucking chance that this is going to be a one time thing.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington smut #steve harrington enemies to lovers #stranger things angst

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brightbertalt · 1 year

Text

hobie brown x reader!!

a/n - creaming, foaming at the mouth, crying, sucking dick, anyways— yeah he’s hot and we need more fanfiction for him.

warnings - language, mentions of smoking, drinking, drink-spiking, and british people….

first meet!

first of all AUUUUUGGHHH he’s so HOTTTT

I would say that you guys met at one of his concerts

the place was definitely super sketchy, the whole place was lit up by string lights, which didn’t offer much

the whole place smelled like cigarettes and cheap booze, and you were pretty sure that this was just some guy’s basement at this point

the concert just finished, and you decided to grab a drink and sit down for a little bit

what else were you doing anyways?

you didn’t see anywhere else to sit, so the corner seemed like a good place for now

you sat there for a little bit, looking at everyone chatting, smoking, drinking, making out or whatever

“ey, you like the show?”

you looked up. jesus, he was tall. it might be the alcohol, or the dark room, or the fact that he was already 6 feet tall and he wore platforms, but hot damn.

“you good?”

he waved his hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“yeah. was really good..”

“first time at a show?”

you looked down. you didn’t feel that well.

“yeah, uhm, it’s the first.”

he grabbed your drink from you, looking at it before pouring it on the floor.

“yeah, ‘cuz you don’t know how to check your drink.”

your stomach dropped. it could be from the realization of what could have happened, but most likely because you felt like throwing up. you stumbled to your feet, and hobie helped you to the garbage can next to the door. despite his appearance, he was extremely good at comforting you when you got sick. he kept his hand on your back, making sure to tell you:

“it’s okay, you’re not gonna die. not today at least.”

after the whole episode, you were exhausted. you just wanted to go home and forget about the whole night. of course this happened at your first show, you wanted to forget about all this and go on with your life. the next thing that happened was a huge blur. all you remember was being high above the city streets, and the wind against your face. someone holding you tightly.

you woke up in your own bed. as soon as you opened your eyes, your head hurt to high hell. it felt like someone was opening and closing your skull like a book. you turned over, looking towards your window. someone had left a sticky note. you got up, still in your outfit from last night, and stumbled over to the note. you quickly grabbed it and immediately sat back down, feeling sick.

‘NEXT GIG - SOUTH STREET BAR TONIGHT!’

there was something scribbled at the bottom.

‘(XXX)-XXX-XXXX IF U NEED HELP WITH CREEPS’

#fanfic #fanfiction #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #spider punk #spiderpunk #hobart brown #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderman headcanon

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