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notafunkiller · 6 months

Text

out of style

Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 7.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.

You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.

You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.

“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.

“Vodka so early?”

You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.

“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.

He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.

God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.

“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!

“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.

“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.

“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”

“Huh?” You choke.

“Vodka lovers.”

Alright, time to get out of here!

You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?

And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.

“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.

You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern. “Do you feel okay?”

“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.

“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”

His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.

He must be looking for a ring.

God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.

You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.

Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”

You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.

You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.

And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.

“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”

“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”

He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”

“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”

“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”

Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”

“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”

You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”

“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”

“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”

He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”

You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.

You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.

“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”

“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.

“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”

You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”

You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.

“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.

“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.

“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”

He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”

His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.

“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.

“Aww, what happened?”

It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”

“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”

“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!

“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”

“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”

“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.

“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”

“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”

“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”

“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”

“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”

“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”

“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.

“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”

“Stop. It.”

“Why? You didn’t stop!”

He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”

You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.

“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”

“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”

“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”

“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”

“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.

His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”

You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.

“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“With my small dick?”

You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”

He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.

“Why would I let go of my wife?”

You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”

He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?

“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”

“What are you, a fucking stalker?”

“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”

“W-what?”

He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”

“How?”

He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”

You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”

“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”

You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.

“Why would I notice, James?”

“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”

Fair point...

“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!

You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.

Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.

“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.

“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”

“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...

“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”

He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.

“What?”

“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.

“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”

You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...

“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”

You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.

“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”

You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.

When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...

“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”

That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.

“But the wedding… They would kill us.”

“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”

You can’t hold back your laughter.

“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”

“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”

You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”

Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”

“I know.”

You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.

“Hurry up!”

“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.

“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.

“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.

“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”

You snort. “My boobs?”

“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.

“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”

“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”

As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”

He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”

You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”

“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”

“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”

“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”

“Then why does it keep coming back?”

He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”

“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”

“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”

“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”

“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”

“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.

“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”

You take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”

“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.

“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”

Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”

“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”

He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.

“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”

The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.

“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”

“Dick!”

“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”

“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.

Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!

“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”

“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”

He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”

“Eww, what the fuck.”

He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”

Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and eat!”

His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.

You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.

So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.

When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.

There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.

Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…

You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.

As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.

“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”

You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”

“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”

“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”

You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...

“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”

“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”

“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.

“Out of love.”

You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.

“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”

He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.

The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.

He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”

“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.

“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.

“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”

You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“No one for me, either.”

You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”

You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.

Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.

He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.

“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”

You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.

“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”

“I told you I never gave up on us.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”

He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”

“Even when you were with other girls?”

Your heart is racing.

“Never took it off.”

You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.

“No wonder why nothing worked.”

“I had no intention to make it work.”

You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.

“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”

You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.

“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”

He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.

“I hate you so much!’

He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”

“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”

“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”

“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”

“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.

You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.

“Ass in the air, come on.”

You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.

The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.

You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.

“Mine.”

You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”

And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.

“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”

You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”

“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”

He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”

“James...”

He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.

“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”

“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.

You smirk.

“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”

“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”

“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”

His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.

“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”

“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.

“We... we have to apply first.”

He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.

“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”

“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.

You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.

“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”

You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.

“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”

He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.

“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”

He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.

“I love you.”

You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”

Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.

“Bucky!”

“What? We need new rings.”

You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”

“We need...”

“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”

“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”

He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”

“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”

You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.

“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Don’t want to or can’t?”

You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.

“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”

“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”

“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”

“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”

Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”

“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.

“Table. God... Do you think they know?”

“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pills?”

You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”

“I assume you are still on the pills, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.

Ass...

“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”

“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”

“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.

“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”

“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”

He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”

You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.

“I know. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”

“Do you plan on staying there?”

He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”

“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”

“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.

“Why? Is this all you could give me?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.

“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”

“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”

“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”

You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”

“What snack?”

“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”

“I told you she is not-”

“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.

“You’re so jealous.”

“Lock the door!”

You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #ex-husband!bucky barnes #divorced!bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluf #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #my fanfics #my stories

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andvys · 9 days

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter thirteen ⭐︎ For a moment, I was heaven struck

Warnings: mentions of smut, mentions of heartbreak and unrequited feelings, mentions of bad parenting, allusions to depression, lots of fluff -- and, angst at the end

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve gives you a glimpse of a future you could have with him -- if only things were so simple.

Word count: 13.5k+

Author's note: I'm not really proud of this chapter, but I hope you guys are gonna love this ♡ @hellfire--cult thanks for helping me, lovelyyyy

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Sunlight peeks through the curtains of Steve’s bedroom, illuminating the room ever so slightly. The weight on his chest warms him up, the scent that lingers on your hair, and your body is his own, you used his shampoo and bodywash the night before. To know that you smell like him, causes something in his chest to stir.

As he opens his eyes, a smile appears on his face.

Your cheek is squished against his bare chest, your eyes shut tightly as you’re still sleeping deeply. Your arm is wrapped around his waist, your whole body covering his own like a blanket.

His own arms are wrapped around you, his left hand hidden underneath your – his shirt, fingers drumming against your soft skin.

Steve blinks his sleepiness away and he raises his hand up towards your hair, smoothing it out, he runs his fingers through it as he watches you.

This isn’t anything new, you woke up beside him, on him, countless times before, and yet, it still feels so surreal sometimes.

You are still his Blondie.

He is still Steve.

And yet, something has changed, something has shifted.

A sigh falls from your lips, and you only snuggle deeper into his chest, scrunching up your nose a little, before your features relax again.

He brushes some of your hair out of your face, his fingertips graze your cheek and your temple. He begins to twirl your strand around his finger, still smiling as his eyes stay on you.

Memories from the night before start flashing in his mind, causing his smile to grow bigger as he thinks of how you kissed him, how you touched him, how you let him touch you, how you clung to his body.

You got out of his car on shaky feet, your knees nearly buckled when you tried to walk, so he rushed towards you and steadied you with hands on your waist, before he leaned down and hooked his arm around the back of your knees and threw you over his shoulder, you squealed at his actions and hugged his waist tightly, as though he would let you fall. He couldn’t even help himself when he slapped your ass, the whimper that fell from your lips only made him feel more smug, just as the shakiness in your legs did.

You shared another first together, last night. And that feels special and… intimate. It isn’t something that he wants you to do with someone else – he doesn’t want to imagine you with anyone else, at all.

He only wants this, you finding pleasure in him and no one else.

He wants to feel special, he wants to feel needed, and so far, you have been good at making him feel such things.

And he tells himself that this is all it is – pleasure. That the gnawing feeling in his chest, the night before, wasn’t jealousy. That it was only possessiveness that he had felt because he wants you all to himself.

But as he lies in his bed, with you in his arms, snuggled up against him, sleeping on top of him, the way a casual hookup shouldn’t be, and he holds you tightly, even tighter than he held one girl before, his hand freezes in your hair and he stops twirling it, his heart jumps in his chest, and his eyes widen as the panic in him, rushes through him so quickly that it halts his breath in his throat.

And yet, the warmth in his chest feels so alarming, a flame that he thought had died, sparking – even if weakly.

No. No. No.

His mind chants the same word over and over again. But then you stir in your sleep, and he feels your bare legs on his, which are hidden beneath the blanket that covers you both. Your fingernails graze his skin, your lips touch his chest as you turn your head, and then, you lay your palm on the spot, right over his poor heart. An innocent move that makes the spark a tiniest bit brighter, stronger, and his heart beat faster.

‘Well shit’. Steve thinks.

He wants to groan, he wants to roll his eyes at himself and get angry at the weakness that lingers in him, but he can’t, he can’t even be mad at himself, not when he takes a deeper, longer look at you.

What would King Steve think of this?

His opinions don’t matter, they haven’t mattered once, since he let him die. But there was always a part of himself that he hated when he was still very much alive. He hated the thoughts in his head and how his own eyes strayed, even when he didn’t want them to. How his mind took him to where he told himself he didn’t want to be.

King Steve doesn’t matter, his opinions don’t matter – and yet, he can’t help but wonder what his teenage self would think of him now if he saw you in his arms, like this, so closely, so intimately.

He won’t ever find out, but he feels… troubled.

“What time is it?” Your groggy voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and his eyes focus again as they meet your tired ones.

You prop yourself up on his chest, and cover your mouth with your hand as you turn away with a yawn.

Steve’s hand leaves your hair, and he runs it down your back instead as he watches you, the smile never fading. No makeup on your skin, your hair in its natural state, his shirt on your frame, and your features marked with tiredness. You’re adorable like this.

You blink the sleep away, and rub your eyes as you take a look at the alarm on his nightstand. It’s 10 am.

“Good morning, Blondie,” Steve whispers.

“Morning, Steve.”

You roll off of him, much to his dismay. You stretch your arms out and try to do the same to your legs when the soreness hits you, and you register the strong ache between your thighs. A pained whimper falls from your lips and you scrunch your eyes shut again.

“Ouch.”

Steve’s eyes flash with concern as he pushes himself up, he eyes your body and watches the way you press your hand against your inner thigh, whimpering at the pain he caused, the night before.

“I’m going to kill you, Harrington.”

Relief is quick to follow in his eyes, he relaxes as a smirk tugs at his lips.

“It’s a good kind of pain, right Blondie?”

When you open your eyes, you meet his gaze with a glare, causing him to chuckle.

“Shut up, I don’t even know if I can stand,” you mumble as you press your palms against the mattress and sit up slowly.

Steve chuckles again, pride swelling inside of him, knowing that he was the cause of it. He gets up and walks around his room in nothing but boxers, opening one of his drawers to grab a shirt.

“I’ll prepare a bath for you to soak in then,” he says, glancing at you, “it’ll relax your muscles a little.”

Your heart skips a beat as your eyes widen.

You sit up further, still holding onto the sheets as you watch him put a shirt on his body.

“You’re preparing a bath for me?”

“Would you prefer a wheelchair?” He laughs, not noticing the stunned look on your face, as you open and close your mouth a few times. “I’ll be right back, Blondie,” he shoots you a smile before he opens the door, letting light seep into the room from the bright hallway, he takes another glance at you over his shoulder before he steps out and makes his way into the bathroom.

You listen to his movements, ears perking up at the sound of water flowing the bathtub, moments later.

He is really drawing you a bath.

He had never done anything like this before, the most you got was a change of clothes, him letting you use his shower and the spare toothbrush he had in his drawer, but never this.

This is him taking care of you and you can’t stop the smile from appearing on your face. Your heart flutters at the normalcy of all of this, despite how abnormal it is.

Surely, this has nothing to do with feelings, but with him wanting to make it up to you for making your body ache – not that you are complaining, last night was one of the best ones that you had shared with each other.

Despite the soreness in your body, you can’t help but feel heat pooling in your lower stomach, awakening the desire for him that always lingers.

You throw the blanket off yourself and scoot closer to the edge of the bed, furrowing your brows, you try not to groan at the pain in your legs when your feet hit the ground.

You have never experienced anything like this before.

You have never struggled to get up the next morning.

Your legs feel like jelly, and you can’t even squeeze your thighs together, but you push through the soreness. Your knees nearly buckle when you take the first step.

“Jesus…” You murmur, shaking your head.

You never spent much time wondering what kind of lover Steve would be, until he started showing signs of interest towards you. It felt wrong to think of him in such ways when he so clearly hated you.

But if you had to guess, you would’ve thought of him as someone sweet and caring, loving and gentle – and you are sure that he is, just not with you. And it’s okay, it really is. You like the way he touches you, you like how he marks you up, how he manhandles you, how rough and intense he can be. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

And yet, you can’t help but feel saddened to know that you will never experience another side of him – to know what it’s like to be loved by him.

You walk into the large bathroom, to find him testing the water with his hand. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon lingers in the air, the bathtub is filled up high, even with bubbles.

You lean against the doorframe and watch him for a moment, a teasing smile appearing on your face, “huh, who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington likes to take bubble baths – scented ones too.”

Steve scoffs at your words in amusement.

He turns around to face you after closing the tap.

“It’s my mom’s stuff, Blondie,” he chuckles as he takes in the sight of you. Letting his eyes roam your body, the marks on your neck, the shirt that belongs to him, the softness of your skin that he wants to feel on his lips again. The urge to take care of you, now growing stronger than ever.

You have stayed over countless times before, just as he did at your house.

But neither of you ever stayed for long enough, you woke up, you got dressed and the most you have provided for each other was a cup of coffee and small talk.

This is something new, a bubble bath – he had never done this for anyone before, despite how much he dreamed of having someone to take care of and spoil.

“C’mere, Blondie,” he murmurs as he walks towards you, reaching his hand out for your own, he pulls you into him and places his other hand on your waist, “I promise, this will make you feel better.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart yet skipping another beat – if only he knew that it’s always aching for him.

He takes your shirt off, exposing your bare body to him. The spot beneath his touch glowing with heat as he now holds your naked waist with both hands.

Steve licks his lips as he looks down at you, his eyes blinking as they flash with something other than lust. There is a softness in them that you haven’t seen directed at you, ever before, and it makes your breathing stutter.

As the morning sun peeks through the blinds, the golden light kissing every inch of your exposed skin, he takes in the sight of how softly your hair lies on your shoulders, how flustered you look beneath his gaze, how puffy your lips are, how the marks on your neck are more than what you think they are.

His hands leave your waist, though they don’t stray away from you just yet. The tips of his fingers graze your skin. Whether the goosebumps are his cause or the coldness of the bathroom, his lips twitch at that. You look at him with wide eyes and parted lips, he is aware of the fluttering in his chest when he locks eyes with you.

You caught him staring, but for some reason it doesn’t make him want to step back or hide.

You are so devastatingly beautiful.

So beautiful that he can’t help but want to keep staring.

He is stuck in a world between the heavens and the earth, a world where it’s only you and him, where nothing else matters but the string that ties him to you, the string that he always wanted to deny, no matter how abnormally strong it was.

And even now, he is still in denial, he still isn’t there, but it’s slowly becoming harder to stay away from you in a much more intimate way.

“Steve,” you whisper, slowly pulling him back on solid ground.

He blinks, his eyelashes kissing his skin as he slowly awakens from his trance like state. The beating of his heart becomes stronger when he notices the softness in your eyes.

“Yes?” He whispers, squeezing your elbow as he feels the urge to shower your body with nothing but kisses, your bare skin looking so delicate to him.

“I-I’m cold.”

“R-Right,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

Steve steps to the side, and his hands leave your body, but he offers his hand out for you as you step closer to the bathtub. You take it, grasping it tightly as you lift your leg, pushing through the soreness, you get inside and let the warmth embrace your aching body. You sink down into the water, sighing in contentment at the comforting feeling. You slowly let go of his hand, and bring it up to your hair.

“Oh wait, you probably don’t want to get it wet again,” Steve mumbles, as he looks around the room, knowing that you left your hair clip here after your shower last night. He finds it on the counter and reaches for it.

“Oh yeah,” you nod, turning your head, you eye the claw clip in his hand and lift your hand up to take it from him, but Steve only shakes his head.

“Let me,” he whispers as he kneels down behind the bathtub, he gathers your hair and runs his fingers through it, making sure to get all of it, his fingertips touch your cheeks as he reaches for the front pieces as well, only for them to fall back in place.

You swallow harshly as your heart nearly leaps to your throat, his actions making the water feel ten times hotter, goosebumps growing on your skin even beneath it.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, his breath hitting your bare shoulder as he puts your hair up and secures it with the clip – effortlessly.

You’re a little caught off guard by… well everything.

“I-I…” You stutter, unable to form a word, let alone a sentence.

“I’ll go make you something,” he announces, squeezing your shoulders as he gets up again. He looks down at you, lips curling into a smile. You’re still sitting with your back straight, your body now hidden beneath the bubbles, the front pieces of your hair hanging loosely in front of your face, framing it perfectly. You are staring at him, eyes filled with surprise and nervousness. The latter emotion matches his own, he had never done these things for anyone before, not even Nancy.

She was his high school sweetheart, they were barely eighteen when they dated. She wasn’t allowed to stay over, and the few times she sneaked out of her house to do so, she went back home early in the mornings so she wouldn’t get caught, but he could count these few times on one hand.

He never prepared baths for her, he never did her hair, he never made her breakfast, he never touched and kissed her the way he did with you.

And despite the nervousness that is deep inside, he can’t help but feel a little giddy too. Heat rushes to his cheeks the longer he stares at you.

“Okay,” you whisper, blushing as you look up at him with a shy smile, “thank you, Steve.”

He nods at you, his own cheeks glowing with color, “you’re welcome, Blondie,” he winks at you, before he forces himself away from you. He turns around and walks out of the bathroom.

You stare at the door he just closed, your mouth ajar, your eyes wide.

Are you truly awake?

When he held you in his car last night, and he treated you so gently, you were already so caught off guard, but this, this is something else, this is something new, and you don’t know what to think of it.

You don’t want to get your hopes up, but you also don’t want to ruin the moment by overthinking, and hurting your own feelings.

So despite the gnawing feeling in your chest, you take a deep breath and close your eyes, you relax your shoulders and lean back, trying to enjoy this moment without your doubts getting in the way.

You breathe in the sweet scent and sink deeper into the hot water, relaxing as best as you can as you let your mind rest. You let the minutes pass, and enjoy only this moment, not letting your negativenss take over.

Your teenage self would jump and scream in joy if she saw you now.

Not only does he somewhat like you now, he also does things only a boyfriend would and should do, and you can’t help but love every second of it, even when the dark sadness tries to cast shadows over the golden lights that take over, every time you let yourself feel what you desire, deep down.

The water feels nice on your skin, and on your sore body, you almost don’t want to get out, but after a while, your tiredness seeps back in, and you begrudgingly push yourself out of the water, you wrap a towel around your body, and dry yourself off. You drain the bathtub and slide open the window to let some fresh air in, the fog from the heat lingering in the room and on the large mirror.

When you step out into the hallway, your mouth waters and you instantly feel the hollowness in your stomach when the smell of waffles reaches you. You haven’t eaten since your late lunch, the day before, and Steve had worn you out. You are starving.

You quickly make your way into his bedroom, surprised to see the bed already made.

He laid out some clothes for you, another one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers. A smile tugs at your lips, you hold the towel tightly against your chest as you make your way over to his bed. You remove the claw clip from your hair, and throw it on the mattress as you reach for his shirt.

It smells nice, clean, like fresh laundry detergent and still like him. Your heart always skips a beat when you wear something that belongs to him. Removing the towel, you put his shirt on and then his boxers, adjusting them a little so they fit you better. You walk over to his mirror, and take a look at yourself, a gasp nearly falling from your lips as you eye the marks on your neck, somehow they have gotten even darker. You will have trouble covering that up.

You fix your hair and smooth it out, before you leave the room and make your way towards the stairs. You truly underestimated the ache in your legs though, the moment you take the first step down, your knee nearly buckles, causing you to hold onto the railing a little tighter.

You don’t know how you make it to the kitchen, but after walking down in slow motion, you step into the large room slowly.

Steve is standing with his back to you, a plate of waffles before him as he pours batter into the waffle maker. He changed into a pair of gray sweatpants.

Your stomach growls at the sight and the smell of your favorite breakfast food.

He turns around when he sees you from his peripheral vision, a chuckle falling from his lips when he notices the pained look on your face.

“I need a break of two days,” you grumble as you make your way over to the kitchen table, “I’m not even going to suck your dick, your hand will suffice.”

Steve chuckles even louder than before, the smugness in his eyes fading away when he takes in the sight of his clothes on your body.

You groan loudly as you take a seat.

“Two days?” He asks, tilting his head at you, “you’re killing me here, Blondie.”

You raise your head and meet his gaze, glaring at him playfully, “my pussy feels like it’s going to fall off, Harrington.”

He looks down, hiding the smirk on his face, “she had a good time.”

You can’t help but snort.

You crane your neck, looking at the plate before him, excitement flashes in your eyes, “I love waffles.”

“I know you do,” he says, smiling. “What do you want with them, berries and syrup?”

You try to hide the blush that creeps up on your face, you try to swallow the feelings that take control of your body.

"Yes, please."

He nods at you, before he points at the coffee pot, “want some?”

“Mhmm. Creamer and two sugars–”

“I know how you like your coffee, Blondie.”

He doesn’t wait for your reaction, he turns his back to you, and he opens the cupboard, taking out the mug he for some reason always chooses for you, he places it on the counter and starts preparing your coffee.

You blink.

Straightening your back, you place your hands on the counter, fiddling with your fingers as you watch him.

He memorized how you like your coffee?

The fluttering in your chest starts driving you crazy, it’s nothing you’re not used to, but his kindness and the gentleness he treats you with this morning takes everything beyond what you had felt before.

A part of you wants to ask him if he hit his head, if he is mistaking you for someone else, or if the sex was so good that he somehow developed more than just lust for you.

But you don’t want to ruin the moment and risk losing this.

If you were a different girl, you could have this every day.

But you’re you, and you only get this now, maybe it’s a one time thing, or maybe it’s something new in your ‘relationship’, and if it is, you will cherish any moment he will give you, for as long as he is willing to have you.

Steve places the mug in front of you, blessing you with a sweet smile before he returns to finish the rest of the waffles as he pours the last of the batter into the maker.

“Thanks,” you mumble, wrapping your hands around the warm mug, you raise it up to your lips and take a sip.

Steve grabs a plate and begins to fill it up with fruit he already washed and prepared. He places the fresh waffles on the plate and grabs the bottle of syrup, he makes his way over to you, and places the plate in front of you.

You put the mug down and raise your head to look at him, “that looks so good,” you smile, pulling the plate closer and reaching for the fork.

Steve smiles back at you, his chest bubbling with something at the excitement in your features.

He places the syrup in front of you, and returns to the counter to fill up his own plate with berries and waffles. He grabs it and reaches for a jar in his cupboard before he makes his way back to you and joins you at the round table.

“That’s all for you, Blondie.” He points at the stacked up waffles he left on the counter.

“All for me?” You chuckle, before you take the first bite, eying the jar of nutella he placed on the table.

“Gotta get the energy back in you,” he smirks, watching your reaction as you start chewing. He licks his lip, smiling when your eyes widen.

“Oh my god, Steve.” You hold your hand in front of your mouth after swallowing the first bite, looking at him in awe.

“That’s how you sounded last night,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

You shake your head as you look into his hazel eyes, smirking at him despite the flustered look on your face, “I think the waffles are better.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, “oh?”

You nod, taking another bite.

He chuckles at you as he grabs the nutella, he opens the lid and picks up his butterknife. Scooping out some of the chocolate, he starts spreading it on his waffle.

“You eat your waffles with nutella?”

“Yeah, it tastes amazing, Blondie.”

“Does it?” You ask, tilting your head as you pop a berry into your mouth, you watch him. His brows furrow in concentration and his tongue pokes out between his lips. His hair is messy, slightly wavy even. He looks so cute like this. “I’ve never tried that before.”

He raises his head, looking at you in surprise, “you haven’t?”

You shake your head, “no, I don’t even remember the last time I had nutella, Eddie ate like the whole jar I had in my kitchen, he used it as a dip for his pretzels,” you chuckle, “and then he ate the rest with a spoon… I don’t know how he didn’t get sick.”

“Eddie could eat straight sugar, and he wouldn’t get sick, don’t know how he’s still healthy,” Steve chuckles as he cuts a piece of his waffle, he places a raspberry on top of it before he picks it up with a fork and surprises you yet again, when he offers you the bite, bringing the fork up to your mouth.

You nearly choke on the berry you just swallowed.

“Try it.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, and your heart nearly shoots out from its place.

He surely had never done anything like this before.

Ordering food and offering snacks after sex? Sure. Feeding you food from his plate? Never.

He looks at you expectedly, not even noticing just how flustered you are by such a small and simple action.

You blink, shaking off the nervousness that still lingers deep, you part your lips and lean closer to take the bite, you still look at his eyes and watch how he stares at your lips.

The sweetness of the waffle, the chocolate and the freshness of the berry, burst in your mouth, creating the perfect combination. Your eyes widen, and you sit back as you hold your hand in front of your mouth after releasing the fork from your lips. You moan at the taste and take your time savoring the flavors.

Steve’s lips curl into a smile, his soft eyes stare at you as he brings the fork back to his place, taking a bite of his food as well, he keeps his eyes locked on you, enjoying your presence more than ever, this morning.

Steve always eats his breakfast by himself, it has always been that way.

The few times his parents were home, they didn’t even bother to have family breakfasts, or dinner’s for that matter.

They would go out to have dinner at Enzo’s, and would leave a few dollar bills for him, so he could order takeout – as though he didn’t learn to cook for himself as a teenage boy, but his parents never knew that, and they still don’t. He hadn’t seen them in a while, and the last phone call must’ve been months back.

But he likes this, he likes having you around, he likes sitting at the kitchen table with you, like it’s the most normal thing for the both of you.

“Not to feed your ego, but these waffles are better than the ones at the diner… or even the ones my sister makes.”

He smiles at you, “really?”

“Mhmm,” you nod as you take a sip of your coffee.

“I uh, I tried a few different recipes, took me some time to find the perfect one,” he says, his smile now turning into a shy one, “one time, El showed up, she was all upset about something Mike said or did, poor girl was crying her eyes out. I was confused why she came here out of all places and I honestly didn’t know how to comfort a heartbroken teenage girl, but uh, all it took was some waffles to cheer her up,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck.

Your eyes soften, and your heart nearly bursts.

The teens have found a brother in him, and he takes care of them without hesitating to.

He is there for them when they need him, and despite the annoyance he feigns sometimes, he cares so much about them and would do anything to protect them from any kind of harm.

“That’s so sweet,” you whisper, smiling softly.

Steve blushes at your words, his own lips pulling into a soft smile.

“You’re such a mom,” you tease him, nudging your foot against his under the table.

“Last time I checked, I didn’t have a vagina. I think you know that fact pretty well.”

You giggle, and look down at your plate again, picking up the fork, you continue to eat your waffle, unaware of the softness in his eyes.

Steve’s lip twitches, he tries not to look at you for too long, but it gets difficult to keep his eyes off of you, because something in his chest, something in the very sacred spot he had been trying to keep safe opens just the slightest bit, light and warmth seeps into it, filling it with life again, making it move in a pace he had grown unfamiliar to.

The sun shines brightly into the window, light rays hit your skin perfectly, making your skin glow and your hair shine, the color in your eyes shining even brighter.

You sit across from him comfortably, eating the breakfast he made for you, happily. You look content, you look happy to be here, you look like you belong here, with him.

This feels comforting, this feels normal.

But it isn’t, this isn’t normal, and he can’t help but feel disappointed by the truth.

He looks down with a soft sigh, and continues eating too, trying to keep the negative thoughts and emotions at bay, not wanting anything to ruin the moment.

Steve keeps stealing glances at you, not noticing that you are doing the same, not feeling your eyes that always linger.

When you’re both done eating, you push yourself up from the chair, ignoring his confused looks, you gather the empty dishes and stack them up.

“Whoa, no no, put that down,” Steve shakes his head at you, he gets up as well, the chair scraping against the hardwood floor, “you’re my guest, you don’t have to clean.”

“Pfft.” You wave him off, carrying the plates over to the sink, you push through the soreness in your legs, “I want to help.”

Steve sighs behind you, “I can do it myself, you should rest your legs.”

“I’m fine, Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes, putting his hands on his hips as he watches you.

You get the sponge and dish soap, and Steve nearly starts laughing when you tilt your head away and handle the lever carefully, opening the water slowly, clearly not wanting a repeat of the last time you washed the dishes here.

“I fixed the lever, don’t worry,” he chuckles.

“If you’re lying to me and I’m about to get wet again, I’m gonna fight you.”

Steve laughs, crossing his arms over his chest, “I got different methods of getting you wet now.”

You look back at him over your shoulder, giving him a glare.

He continues laughing, tearing his eyes away from you, he starts cleaning up the table, a smile lingering on his lips.

Comfortable silence hangs over the room, as you both move around the kitchen and clean up together.

You savor every moment with him, not knowing that he is doing the same now too.

“I owe you breakfast,” you speak up, after a while.

Steve wipes down the counter, glancing at you with raised brows, “I won’t say no to that, but you don’t owe me anything, I wanted to do this.”

You press your lips together, leaning against the counter behind you, “yeah, but still.”

He shakes his head with a smile, “nah, let me impress you with all my cooking skills first,” he smirks, making his way over to you, he throws the dish towel over his shoulder, “I can blow your mind with more than just sex.”

You furrow your brows, laughing at his words.

“Oh?” You tilt your head, “and where’d you learn how to cook?”

“My grandpa taught me some Italian dishes when he was still alive. And uh, my parents were never home and I got sick of eating pizza and burgers all the time, so I got myself a cookbook and uh, turns out I’m a pretty decent cook,” he chuckles, shrugging, “it’s the italian in me,” he jokes.

Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter as you walk towards him.

“You’re italian?”

He chuckles at the surprised look on your face.

“My dad’s side of the family is,” he explains.

“Huh, that’s where the charm comes from,” you joke, “can you speak Italian?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but the only thing Italian about me are my relatives,” he laughs.

“And your cooking skills,” you point out.

“And my cooking skills,” he smiles, nodding. “I’m gonna knock you off your feet, the next time you stay over, I’ll cook you the best pasta you ever had.”

Excitement bubbles in your stomach and your eyes light up. You can’t even push away the feelings inside of you.

“I’d like that,” you smile.

Steve’s eyes light up, his own smile growing.

“Yeah?”

You nod, swallowing the nervousness inside of you. You know that you shouldn’t get too close, that there are things that you shouldn’t do with him, knowing how it’ll end for you, but you can’t help it, you’re drawn to him, in every way and form.

“Cool, I can finally cook for someone other than the teens then,” he chuckles, as he steps closer to you, his hands now inching closer to yours on the counter.

“What about your parents? Do you cook for them when they’re home?”

Steve scoffs, and he rolls his eyes at the mention of them.

“No, even when they’re home, they aren’t really… home. That one time I tried to cook dinner for them, they ended up leaving on me, gave me some weak apology and told me that they had made plans with friends already.”

Your smile falls at his words. Your eyes soften and the aching in your chest returns, not for yourself this time, but for him.

You can’t imagine what it’s like to have parents that couldn’t care less about you. You don’t have yours anymore either, but only because they were taken from you, they always gave you love, they always cared for you. Steve’s parents are alive, and they want nothing to do with him, they don’t even know half of the things he’s been through.

“I haven’t seen them in a while, it’s nothing new, really. And things are different now, for me at least. But, I felt really alone in this house as a teen,” he explains, looking down. “Sometimes… they were gone for so long, that I even forgot what their voices sound like.”

You look into his eyes, into the sadness that lingers deep in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you whisper, wanting nothing more than to hug him, to hold him, to show him that there is someone who he means everything to. Your own sadness casts a shadow over you, but also the anger that you feel for the people who hurt him, that left him. How could they? How could they leave and abandon him? How could they not love him, when he is so easy to love?

You would give him everything if you could.

He scrunches his brows together, forcing a smile onto his lips as he shakes his head at you, “it’s okay,” he murmurs. “I-I accepted that they don’t care about me. I just uh, my dad’s words still hurt sometimes but uh, I’m pretty good at handling my emotions around him now,” he admits, feeling the weight on his shoulders falling off when he says these words out loud, “he’s good at making me feel like I’m nothing though,” he chuckles even though there is nothing amusing about that.

Your blood boils in your veins, your heart no longer beats softly in your chest. You feel the anger rushing through you, as you stare at the man in front of you, a man who was once a boy, left behind to fend for himself, left behind in this huge house that provided no comfort when he needed it, no love, no warmth, no one to hug him and tell him just how loved he is, how strong and brave he is for going through darkness.

He stepped into an empty house after fighting against evil.

He stepped into an empty house after getting his heart broken.

He had no one to come home to.

He had no one to greet him with open arms and a warm meal, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen.

And when they were there for once, he probably thought that walking into an empty house would’ve been better.

He is surprised to see the anger in your eyes, the downturned lips and the frown on your pretty face.

“It’s not okay,” you shake your head stubbornly, “they shouldn’t have left you, and they shouldn’t have treated you like that, they– they don’t deserve you,” you mumble and tilt your head down to hide the truth in your face, too scared that he will see right through you in this moment of weakness. “Your dad doesn’t deserve you, none of the people who hurt you do.”

Steve’s hazel eyes soften, his lips part, but no words come out.

He knows that your words are mainly about his family, but also about someone else who hurt him deeply, who left a huge wound in his heart, a mark that hasn’t faded yet.

There is a sense of vulnerability behind your voice, something that he only heard once, when you opened up to him, that one night. He watches the way you hide your face by keeping your eyes on the ground, but even then, he can see just how angry you are, and it makes him furrow his brows in confusion.

Why would you be so upset by him getting hurt?

Why would you care so much when you’re nothing but friends now?

“You’re–” you pause, as a shaky breath falls from your lips, and you slowly look up at him, staring into his soft eyes. You feel nervous to even utter the words that are about to come out of your mouth, but this doesn’t have to give away anything, this is you being a caring friend. “You’re too good for them, Steve, and you deserve so much better than what you’ve been given.”

His breath hitches in his throat, his eyes begin to burn as he takes in your words, he blinks and swallows harshly, trying to keep his calmness, when your eyes meet his again and he sees nothing but the truth in them. You weren’t just saying this to make him feel better, you weren’t trying to give him false comfort.

Now he is the one to hide his face from you, not wanting to show just how much you have touched his feelings. Your words cast a light over the deep lingering pain in his chest, he knows it won’t stay there forever, the light, but it’s enough to make his walls crumble.

In this very moment, Steve’s feelings go beyond desire, and he feels a longing of a different kind, one that he had never felt before, and it scares him, because it’s you, it’s still you. And yet, he can’t help but want to let himself fall into your arms, feeling like it could be a place of comfort and more.

And he wants to, he really wants to, but he can’t.

This isn’t a part of the deal.

He can’t hold you, he can’t find comfort in your arms, this isn’t what it’s supposed to be.

So, despite the longing in his chest, the deep feeling in him, the want and need to do something, he blinks out of his stupor, shaking away all the thoughts and feelings, he pulls his hand away from yours that he almost touched, he looks at you again, and gives you a small smile.

“Thank you, Blondie,” he whispers, “I appreciate that.”

I appreciate you.

“Don’t need to thank me, Steve,” you whisper.

You look over his shoulder, the clock on his wall almost startling you when you read the time.

“Oh wow, I uh, I should go home,” you mumble, not wanting to leave, but not wanting to stay longer and risking losing your dignity by revealing more than just your anger for the people who harmed his feelings.

You don’t notice the way his shoulders slump, the way he almost looks sad at your words.

“Yeah uh, I’ll drive you.”

“It’s fine, I can walk–”

He snorts and tilts his head at you, eyes flashing with amusement again, “can you?”

A laugh falls from your lips, you step away from him, rolling your eyes as you shake your head.

“Come on,” he places his hand on your shoulder, and he leads you out into the hallway.

“Are you still hosting movie night?”

“Uh huh. So, I guess you’re staying another night here,” he winks at you, squeezing your arm.

“I told you, I need some time to recover.”

“We don’t have to fuck, Blondie. You can let me eat your pussy though, it’ll help her recover.”

You scrunch your face up at his words, slapping his chest, you take a step away from him, “I never thought that you’d be such a perv.”

He chuckles behind you.

You look around his hallway, tucking your hair behind your ears, you furrow your brows, “wait, I don’t have shoes.”

“Yeah, we left them in the car last night,” Steve mumbles as he puts on his Nike's, “don’t think they’d suit that outfit very well anyways,” he laughs, pointing at his clothes on your body.

You pout as you turn around to face him, looking down at yourself, “wow, this is the real walk of shame.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle as he laughs again. He picks up his keys, and walks towards you, turning his back to you, he bends down, “hop on, princess.”

You purse your lips and stare at him with widened eyes.

The nickname might’ve been a mocking one, and yet it did everything to make your cheeks heat up and your stomach to make summersaults.

“Well, come on,” Steve waves his hand at you, motioning for you to get on his back.

You swallow and step closer, you slowly bring your hands up to his shoulders, sliding your palms down his chest, you make a little jump and bite back the groan that threatens to fall from your lips, the soreness in your legs seemingly getting worse and worse.

Steve grabs your thighs and rises back to full height, his lips curl into a smile when you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Good?” He asks, squeezing your thigh.

“Mhmm.”

“Good,” he nods.

He opens the door, and steps out, keeping his left hand on your thigh, he reaches his right hand out to shut the door.

“I got it,” you mumble, reaching for the doorknob, you close it as you keep your hold on him.

The summer breeze feels welcoming on your skin, the smell of flowers and grass lingers in the air. You look up and find no cloud in the sky, only the blue and bright sun.

Goosebumps arise on his skin where your breath hits his neck, his stomach fluttering when you tighten your legs around him.

He almost doesn’t want to let you go, but the journey to his car is a short one. He walks over to the drivers side first, unlocking it with his key before he makes his way over to the passenger side, he opens the door for you.

“Can’t remember the last time I gave someone a piggyback ride,” he chuckles, “probably when I was twelve, my little cousin would beg me for them.”

You giggle, squeezing his shoulder as he kneels down and steps closer to his car, so your feet won’t have to touch the rough ground.

“Well, I’m glad to be the first after so long,” you chuckle, you let go of him and place your hand on the head rest.

“Careful with your head,” Steve says with a soft voice as he puts you down.

You pull your legs back and scoot back, placing your feet down into the car.

“Okay, I’m good, thank you.”

Steve turns to face you, “ready to go?”

You nod.

“Alright, Blondie,” he gives you a tight lipped smile and taps the roof of his car before he closes the door.

You reach for the seatbelt, buckling it in as you take a deep breath, though instead of exhaling again, you freeze and your eyes widen. The smell of sex still lingers deeply in the car.

Blood rushes to your cheeks, the anger you felt in the kitchen only moments ago, now fading and transforming into embarrassment as you grow flustered.

You turn around and take a look at the backseats, the mess that you both left behind, only making you blush even deeper.

Steve gets into the driver's seat, jingling with the keys, he puts them into the ignition and fastens his seatbelt, before he glances at you.

You play with your fingers, coughing awkwardly as you look at anything but him. You are blushing.

It doesn’t take him long to realize why you are so flustered, and he can’t help but smirk at you. He grabs the steering wheel, and leans closer to you.

“Getting shy on me now?”

With narrowed eyes, you turn towards him as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Couldn’t you have taken five minutes to clean up a bit?”

His smirk only widens, eyes flashing with pride.

“You needed a shower and a bed, priorities Blondie,” he shrugs.

“Uh huh…” You turn around again, daring to take another glance at the mess, “also, my thong should be somewhere around here… You literally dragged me inside, full commando.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find your thong,” he chuckles, starting the car, he rolls down the window.

“You better, Lego Head.”

You relax into the seat, and turn your head away from him, looking out the window, you appreciate the warm feeling of the sun on your skin, and the sound of music filling the space between you.

Hungry like the wolf starts playing, and you almost want to chuckle at the irony – the song resembles the part of Steve you met last night.

“Always some Duran Duran song in your car.”

Steve nods, placing his hand on the back of your headrest, he looks over his shoulder as he backs out of his driveway. He glances at you with a grin, “yep, they’re great.”

He gives you a wink as he turns up the volume, he grabs the gearstick, and starts driving down the road, puckering his lips slightly as he starts headbanging along to the music, not bothering to move the hair out of his face when it falls in front of his eyes.

You can’t help but giggle when he starts singing along to the music.

Your heart flutters wildly, and you bite down on your lip as you watch him.

You realize something in this moment – his guard is down, right here, right now, he lets you have a glimpse of what he is like, when he’s relaxed, when he’s not hiding himself away from the world, when he isn’t too ashamed to show this side of him. He is willing to show a part of himself to you – someone he couldn’t even bare to be around, only months back.

And you cherish this moment, smiling brightly at the person you adore with all your heart.

You know that you will remember this, you just hope that it won’t be a painful memory.

You don’t want to get out of the car when he parks it in front of your house, you would love to keep driving around town with him, even without talking, you just want to be near him, you want to be with him, any moment he gives you with him.

But you have to go, and knowing that you will see him again later, brings you peace.

You see the way he looks at your lips when you say goodbye, you see the way his eyes flash with something your mind cannot comprehend yet, you see the way he lifts his hand up before he hesitates and wraps it around the steering wheel again. You see it all, and yet, you are still so blind about it.

He offers you another piggyback ride to your house, but you decline with a smile and give him one last goodbye before you get out of his car, and your bare feet touch the cobblestone. You bite back the groan, ignoring the pain in your legs, you shut the door and start walking, not feeling, not seeing his amused eyes as they follow your limping legs.

You make your way up to your porch, and unlock the door. You step inside and turn around.

Steve’s car is still parked in your driveway, his left arm hanging out of the window, he lifts his hand up, waving at you.

A smile tugs at your lips, he waited for you to get inside. You lift your hand up as well, waving back.

The moment he starts backing out of your driveway, you close the door and lean your back against it, not noticing the breath you are holding.

You press your palm against your racing heart, and let all your emotions run through you, as your mind races with thoughts about everything that happened this morning and the night before.

You’re caught in a storm of your own feelings, you don’t even know what to feel, at this very moment.

There are so many things to process.

Steve’s jealousy and how he reacted to Jacob.

The possessiveness he had felt over you, and how eager he was to prove to you that he is the only one that you need.

The gentleness that followed after, that followed into this morning, even.

He trusted you enough to talk about his parents, to open up about his loneliness and the sadness that still lingers.

You bury your face in your hands, and let out a loud sigh as you feel sadness and anger combining themselves inside of you.

You throw your head back against the door, and you take another deep breath.

You need to rest, not only your mind, but also your aching body, so you push yourself away from the door, and take a look at the stairs, frowning at the many steps you would have to take to get to your bedroom.

You choose the closer room, and make your way into the living room instead.

The big couch looks welcoming, the comforting pillows luring you in for a nap. You glance at the clock on the wall, it’s only 3pm, you still have time before you need to start getting ready.

Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV, and plop down on the couch, sinking into the pillows and hoping for your mind to give you some rest, at least until you see him again.

You put on some show to watch, but your eyes don’t stay focused for long, sleep begins to lull you in, putting both your mind and body at rest as your eyes slowly close.

You end up running late, because of your stupid decision not to set an alarm – and because you may or may not have used your sweet time getting ready, always wanting to look perfect for him, always wanting to smell good and your skin to be smooth.

You also needed some time to figure out how to cover the marks up on your neck, which turned out to be a challenge. Foundation and concealer lies on your skin now, and yet you can still see through it.

Steve greets you with a smug smile and a wink, he eyes you up and down hungrily before he lets you in, not even questioning why you’re an hour late, the tiredness in your eyes is a dead giveaway.

The smell of smoke lingers in his house, the door to his backyard is wide open, and you find Eddie standing behind Steve’s grill, talking to Jonathan and Nancy.

You hear Robin’s and Argyle’s voices coming from the kitchen, but the sight of the teens is missing.

“What happened to movie night?” You ask, and turn to face him, “and where are the teens?”

“They canceled on us,” Steve chuckles, looking around the empty hallway, before he steps closer to you, “some movie came out that they really wanted to see.”

“Oh–”

Steve wraps his arm around your waist, surprising you by pulling you into his chest, he slides his palm down your lower back.

Your eyes widen a little as you look into his, the smell of his cologne lingering on him and his clothes, his hair is perfectly styled again – perfect to be ruined by your hands.

“Steve,” you whisper as your cheeks heat up.

“Are you feeling okay, Blondie?” He asks, hand coming to a rest over the pockets on your jean shorts.

No, no you don’t feel okay when he does things like this.

“Mhmm,” you nod.

The look in his eyes is a smug one, his lips are curled into a satisfied smirk when he takes a look at your neck – his touches and glances are already setting your skin on fire, and you have only arrived.

His hand leaves your body, and he steps away from you when the sound of footsteps near the hallway.

You clear your throat, and turn your face away from him, just as Robin comes out of the kitchen, plates and glasses. Her eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Oh, hey!” She grins at you, “are you feeling better today?”

You nod, feeling bad about lying to your friends – but when have you ever been honest?

“Much better.”

“Good, I’m glad,” she nods, “we decided to do a barbecue instead of movie night, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“Very, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Steve smiles beside you – something that Robin doesn’t notice, despite the very deep curiosity that still lingers inside of her when it comes to Steve’s secret.

“Come on, we set everything up already,” Steve says with a soft voice as he gestures to the backyard.

“Yeah, Argyle is attempting to make cocktails.”

You give them both an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry I didn’t help, I passed out on the couch earlier and forgot to set an alarm.”

“Nah, it’s fine, Blondie. You needed your rest,” Steve mumbles, giving you a sly smirk that he hides from his best friend.

“Yeah, and we had enough hands to help out!” Robin smiles, “it was spontaneous anyways!”

She is so unaware of the meaning behind Steve’s words, and you are glad that she is.

“I’ll make sure to make it up with some dessert next time,” you chuckle.

You all step out into his backyard, the evening sun is hidden behind all the trees surrounding his backyard. The round table is almost fully set up with food, the mouth watering smell of barbecue makes your stomach growl.

Robin places the drinks on the table.

Steve taps your shoulder, and he leans closer to you, “take a seat, your legs are still shaky,” he teases, giving you a wink before he steps away from you, “I’m gonna get the drinks, I’ll be right back.”

You breathe in shakily.

You already know that Steve will tease the life out of you tonight.

And you don’t know if you have the strength to tease him back at all.

“Oh hello there, sweetheart.” Eddie grins at you, making his way over as he carries the tray of grilled meat, he walks past you and places it on the table, before he turns back to you.

“Hey, Eddie,” you smile as you eye his hair, he put it up today.

“How are you?” He asks, tilting his head.

You don’t know what it is, but something about his smile and the look on his face, is almost a little unsettling.

“I’m uh… I’m good, how are you?”

“Mhmm, I’m good too. You know, I was kinda worried about you, last night. You just disappeared.”

Guilt settles into the pit of your stomach, and you break eye contact, hating that you have to lie to your best friend just to keep him.

“Yeah uh, I’m sorry,” you mumble, scrunching your nose, “I-I was feeling sick, Steve drove me home.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “ah Steve, huh?”

You swallow, the nervousness inside of you growing.

“Yeah,” you nod, and look back at him.

A knowing look resides in his dark eyes, he squints them a little, like he always does when he tries to look into your mind.

And there is something else, something that makes you feel exposed and vulnerable, you don’t know what it is, but it does nothing to ease the nervousness inside of you.

Maybe you’re looking too deeply into something that isn’t even there.

Maybe you just try to focus on something other than your troubled feelings.

Or maybe, you’re just overthinking because you are so scared of getting caught, knowing that things will end, the moment everything is out in the open.

But, Eddie eases your mind a little, when the playfulness returns in his eyes, “I just don’t want Steve to steal my best friend.”

You nearly breathe out a sigh of relief, you laugh and shake your head, “don’t worry, Lego head’s got nothing on you.”

“Exactly, we’re best friends forever,” he grins, throwing his arm around you, “we should get matching bracelets.”

You snort.

“So everyone knows that I got the coolest best friend.”

“Sure, Eddie,” you chuckle, patting his back as he leads you to the table, and you both join Robin, taking the seats beside her.

She’s holding a bottle of ketchup, a concentrated look resting in her eyes as she reads through the ingredient list.

“Wow, do you guys wanna know what’s in this?” She asks, looking between you and Eddie.

He furrows his brows, and scratches the back of his neck, “uh, not really,” he mumbles, giving her a weird look, before he glances at you, causing you to chuckle again.

Nancy and Jonathan greet you, she gives you a kind smile, while Jonathan gives you a lazy one and a very slurred ‘hello’.

Your eyes follow Steve’s, once he and Argyle step out of the house, and join you all at the table.

Steve takes the seat next to Eddie, and you can’t help but turn your head to look at him, though your eyes get stuck on something else – the bright pink scrunchie that holds Eddie’s curls together. It looks like one of yours, one that has gone missing, only days after you bought it on your first shopping trip with Nancy.

She has the same one, only a different color, but hers is in her hair, and yours is… in Eddie’s hair.

“You stole my scrunchie!” You gasp, frowning at Eddie, who’s in the middle of filling his plate with food.

He glances at you with an amused look in his eyes.

“Oops,” he shrugs, grinning.

“You thief!”

“Well, you have my bandana! I get to have something of yours!”

“My pink polka dot scrunchie? That’s what you chose!?”

He chuckles and nods, “yes, and it gives an edge to my outfit, don’t you think?”

Your lips curl into a smile, you roll your eyes at your best friend.

“Uh oh, first fight between the best friends!” Argyle jokes, “gotta bring out the palmtree delight, my friends!” He picks out a joint from his pocket.

Steve laughs at Argyle, and at your interaction with Eddie. He leans back to look at the pink scrunchie in his hair, furrowing his brows, he shrugs at him, “I think it suits you.”

“Thanks Harrington, I’m glad that one of my friends thinks so.”

Robin clears her throat, tilting her head at him, “Eddie, it’s– it’s pink and well–”

Eddie presses his palm against his chest, glancing at her with offense on his face, “are you telling me that I can’t wear pink, Buckley?” He gasps, closing his eyes, “that is absolute discrimination.”

You laugh at his dramatic words, you lean closer to him and place your hand on his shoulder, “it’s okay, Eddie. You can keep it.”

He drops his act, and opens his eyes again, giving you a smile, “well thanks, sweetheart, I promise, I won’t leave it laying around somewhere.” He winks at you, and glances at Steve, for a very brief moment.

The night goes on, the way it normally does, you fall into conversations, you eat and drink, you laugh and share stories.

The longing feeling in your chest always stays, and your eyes keep moving back to him, it isn’t anything you aren’t used to, and sometimes it’s even a pleasant feeling when you find him looking back at you.

But you also cherish these moments, spending time with people you can now call friends. A circle you never thought, would even be possible for you to have.

The Upside Down is now in the past, the events from the horrific night, now long gone – and yet, you all still stick to the weekly group hangouts.

It has become something very important to all of you – this friend group has become something so special. And you love it, but it scares you, it scares you so very deeply, because of the someone that holds your heart in the palm of his hand.

You know that you will lose them, that you will lose this, that you won’t have this group of friends forever, no matter how much you would like it to stay a part of your life.

The moment this thing between you and Steve will be over, you won’t only lose him, you will also lose them, and that realization feels like a punch to your gut.

You have no family, you’ve been alone for years now, and it has been the worst years of your life, you were lonely and hurting deep inside, but the past few weeks, have been one of the best ones, you have never felt more alive, more happy, despite the sadness that always looms over your heart.

But the happiness isn’t here to stay, it’s only temporary, it’s only here for the moment, it’s only here for as long as he is willing to keep you.

The moment he closes the door, you will be left a worse mess than ever before.

Eddie watches you.

Eddie watches as you move around Steve’s kitchen as though it’s your own, cleaning plates and putting them away, while Steve is wiping down the table outside.

Everyone has left, everyone except for you and him.

He is sipping on his coke, his eyes not straying away from you as he watches curiously.

Steve walks back inside, he shuts the sliding door and turns off the lights in the backyard, before he joins you both in the kitchen. He glances at him as he brushes past him, carrying the last two glasses, he places his hand on your shoulder as he puts them into the skin.

“Eddie, you uh, you don’t have to stay back and clean,” Steve mumbles, turning back to him.

Eddie chuckles.

“Clean? Just want to stay a bit longer with my friends,” he shrugs, looking back at you, “with my best friend in particular.”

He sees the way you freeze, the way you slowly turn back to him with a frown on your face.

“What?”

He puts down his drink, and gets up from the barstool.

Without a single word, he motions for you both to follow him, unable to keep things to himself any longer.

You both hesitate, but follow him, after a moment, giving each other confused looks when he leads you upstairs and into Steve’s bedroom.

He stops in the middle of the dark room, Steve switches the light on, and he shakes his head at the metalhead, pure confusion takes over his face when Eddie smiles smugly at the both of you.

“See… I lied a little bit before,” he starts, taking a deep breath, “I didn’t steal your scrunchie.”

Eddie almost wants to laugh at the comical frown on your face, and how you throw your hand up to point at his hair, while Steve looks at you.

“What the fuck do you mean!? It’s in your hair, Eddie!”

He nods, scoffing slightly as he starts to take it out, letting his hair fall loose around his face, “well you see, I didn’t steal it, rather, I found it. Right–” He pauses as he walks over further into Steve’s room, turning away from the both of you, he slams the scrunchie on the dresser and turns back, the smile now missing, “--Here.”

You freeze, completely.

You don’t even feel the fear rushing through you, or the shock that grips at your body, you stare at Eddie dumbfounded.

The feelings inside of you earlier, weren’t for nothing, after all.

He knows.

He knows everything.

He found out about you both, he found out because you weren’t careful, because you were dumb, because you made a stupid mistake.

Steve blinks.

Blood rushes to his cheeks and raises his hands up at Eddie, shaking his head, “okay listen, this isn’t–”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him, and somehow that’s enough to make Steve shut up – for a second.

Steve huffs, lowering his hands to his hips, he takes a deep breath.

“We are not – look, this is just coincidence.”

“Right!” Eddie spits in a rough voice, nearly yelling as he glares at the both of you, “like the coincidence of you two not being able to hang out at the same time on some nights where we are all together? Coincidence of you–” he points an angry finger at you, “having hickeys all over you, and you–” he moves his attention on Steve, “having scratches on your fucking arms and back!”

He shakes his head again, and glances at you, “coincidence like last night, when I thought that you left with Jacob only to find out that you left with Steve – oh, oh! And not because you were feeling sick! You two have been screwing around and coming up with the shittiest dumbest lies, I mean Heidi and Chandler, are you fucking serious?”

You look down, hiding your face from your best friend.

You feel ashamed for lying to him.

You feel scared to lose him now.

Steve is quiet beside you, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he stares at Eddie.

“You are both so goddamn obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t figure this shit out before!” He laughs in disbelief. “You always look like you’re ready to jump each other’s bones – jesus christ.”

“Dude,” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “it’s just, we uh, we wanted to keep this a secret but uh… guess we should’ve been more careful.”

Eddie throws his arms up, looking between you bewildered, “uh huh, so you went from hating each other to being lovesick, horny idiots?” He snort, not quite believing what he’s seeing, what he’s hearing, “so, are you two gonna keep lying, or finally admit to me that you are dating?”

Your eyes widen, and your head snaps up, your lips parting in surprise.

“Dating?” Steve scoffs, chuckling a little as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Fuck no, it’s just sex.”

Eddie opens his mouth again, but his words get caught in his throat when he glances at you, and sees the look on your face, the pained frown, the sadness in your eyes and the way the tension in your shoulders falls. You lower your head, and stare blankly at the floor, not saying a single word.

He had seen you like this before.

He had seen this sadness before – that night when Steve had lost his temper, and he hit you with harsh words.

I would be surprised if anyone ever loved you at all.

Oh.

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, the realization that floods through him, isn’t easy on him when he sees just how hurt you are by Steve’s words.

There is only one lovesick person in this room, and it isn’t Steve.

He nearly wants to growl at him, slam him against the wall and tell him to stay away from you.

“Look, we’re just having fun, and we didn’t want this to get in the way of things… so… it’s just between Blondie and I,” Steve shrugs, unaware of the anger that boils inside of the man before him. “We’re causing no harm.”

Right, no harm at all.

It’s only your heart that he’s breaking.

Eddie doesn’t even need the confirmation, he can read you like an open book.

“Right?” Steve nudges your shoulder.

You nod, “right.”

“So uh… I think it should stay between us,” Steve points between you and himself, not seeing the look on your face, not seeing the look on Eddie’s face. “And uh, it’d be nice if you kept this to yourself.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie nods, clenching his jaw.

He can tell that you don’t want to be here anymore, that you’re getting restless as you begin to bounce your knee and to blink quickly.

You want to go, and Eddie does too – or else he will do something that he will come to regret.

“Yeah well, you keep doing your thing then,” Eddie mumbles, unable to look at him for longer than a second, before the anger worsens, “I don’t know how I feel about this, but uh, it’s none of my business. Just please stop lying to me.”

Steve runs his fingers through his hair, sighing, “yeah, sure.”

“I should go now,” Eddie mumbles, and he glances at you again, pointing his finger at your face, “and you’re coming with me.”

He gives you a stern look, one that stops Steve from asking any questions, from asking you to stay.

Eddie doesn’t want to leave you with the guy, that is clearly hurting you. He might not know it, but Eddie isn’t blind, and he knows that you staying here won't end well tonight, because the pain in your features is way too visible, and he can tell that you don’t want Steve to see, by the way you're hiding your face from him.

Eddie blinks, not realizing that he is still glaring at Steve, his protectiveness growing stronger in him.

“Alright, let’s go,” he mumbles.

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning around, you keep your head low, “bye Steve.”

He watches you both closely, the way you quickly make your way out of his room and into the hallway, hurrying down the stairs like you’re running away from something – like you’re running away from him.

And Steve, he opens his mouth as his eyes follow you, but he shuts it again, his throat bobs as he swallows. His shoulders fall and a sigh falls from his lips.

Eddie steps closer to him, and Steve turns to face him, he raises his brows at the warning look in Eddie’s deep brown eyes.

“I’m going to kick your ass if you hurt her, Harrington.”

Steve has never been afraid of Eddie – well, maybe those two times when he slammed him against the wall.

“It’s just sex, Munson,” he says, with an unsure tone in his voice, and a bitter taste on his tongue, that he swallows harshly. “Nothing more.”

If Eddie wasn’t so focused on your feelings and on the anger in him, he would’ve seen something other than lies in Steve’s eyes.

“Mhmm, right.” Eddie nods, and steps away from him. “Well, good night.”

He wants to stay longer, to interrogate him further and find out more, but talking to you is more important to him now, so he follows you, hoping that you didn’t make a quick escape already.

But he finds you in the driveway, with your arms crossed over your chest, you lean against your car as you wait for him.

Eddie approaches you slowly, not needing to make up his mind about what question to ask first – it already lies on the tip of his tongue.

You drum your fingers against your elbow, your knee still bounces, your chest heaves up and down heavily.

No words are spoken when he finally halts in front of you, the only sound between you both is your breathing, the wind rustling in the trees and the crickets.

You look at Eddie through your lashes, nervous to even say a single word.

He pities you in this very moment, because he knows how you feel.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“What?” You ask in a small voice.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re in love with Steve?”

You draw back, and your eyes widen.

You knew that he would confront you, but you didn’t expect him to confront you like this.

Your heart drops to your stomach, as the lump in your throat grows.

“I-I…” You stutter, shaking your head at him as you search for words in your mind, for lies to feed him, so your heart can rest, but your mind is empty, the lies are gone, and all you can do is panic as your eyes start burning, “I don’t… I’m not…” You can’t even utter those words, you can’t even lie to save yourself, you can’t even say that you aren’t in love with him, because saying that, would hurt more than this reality.

And yet, you still want to deny, but all you can do is shake your head.

Eddie’s eyes soften, he sighs when he sees just how much pain there is in your glassy eyes.

Eddie knows that there is more, much more.

These feelings aren’t newfound, these feelings are so very deep, these feelings are years old.

He licks his lips, and takes a deep breath.

“That’s why you jumped into the lake with no doubt, that’s why you grabbed him at the hospital, that’s who you got all dressed up for at Hopper’s and Joyce’s party,” he pauses as his face saddens, “that’s why you looked like the world fucking collided when he said it’s just sex.”

A tear falls from your eyes, and slips down your cheek.

Your bottom lip begins to quiver in fear, knowing that this very fragile thing between you and Steve, is now even more frail than before.

You’re a little shocked by how perceptive Eddie is of you, just how Billy was.

He takes a step closer to you, bringing his hand up to your shoulder, hoping to bring you comfort.

“Eddie,” you whisper with a trembling voice as you look into his eyes through your blurred vision, “p-please don’t tell anyone… I-I will lose him if the others find out. And this is the only way I can have him.”

Eddie’s heart breaks for you, the desperation in your eyes and your voice, your words showing him just how deep your feelings are.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he sighs, tilting his head, “for how long?”

You hesitate, not knowing how to save yourself from this humiliation.

But, Eddie’s eyes are filled with kindness, you know that he won’t judge you.

You breathe in shakily, another tear rolls down your cheek, but you quickly raise your hand up to your face, and wipe it away.

“Since we were teens…”

Eddie’s eyes widen, his lips part in shock.

The revelation isn’t something he expected at all.

He knows how Steve treated you, he knows how awful his words were, sometimes. – He knows that King Steve never once bit his tongue, the presence of his friends only made his words more cruel.

He fell victim to it, and you did too.

Neither of you hesitated to bite back though, and Eddie always tried to brush his words off, you always acted like you did too. – He wasn’t your friend in high school, but he was no stranger to seeing you bicker with King Steve during classes or in the hallway. He was always impressed by your witty words, and your funny insults.

He could’ve never guessed that you were wearing a mask, that those words were only weapons to defend yourself with, to hide behind them, to keep your true feelings a secret.

You were so good at acting like you didn’t care, like Steve was someone you hated, like your heart didn’t break, every time you faced him.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, sadly.

You shake your head, and huff at yourself. You raise your hand towards your face, waving it as a pained chuckle falls from your lips, “you must think I’m pathetic,” you murmur, rolling your eyes, the tears still deeply visible, “falling for a guy who fucking hated me for years? That’s just… I’m setting myself up for failure.”

Eddie can tell that you are trying not to break down while you’re still here, still in Steve’s driveway, where he could see you at any given moment.

“You’re not pathetic,” he frowns, squeezing your shoulder, “we don’t choose the people we fall in love with, it’s not in our control.”

And if it was, you still would’ve chosen him.

That makes you pathetic.

“I am pathetic. If I had some dignity, I wouldn’t do this with him. I shouldn’t do this with him, I know how it will end, Eddie.”

“Don’t talk down on yourself,” he mumbles, glaring at you. “Shit, I don’t even blame you, I would’ve done the same thing if I was in that situation.”

You breathe in shakily, blinking fastly as you feel your breakdown approaching.

“I-I just, I wanna go home, right now. I can’t–”

“Hey,” Eddie whispers softly. His kind eyes and his presence being the only comfort for you now. “Want me to go with you? You can talk to me, sweets. You know that.”

“Yes please,” you whisper, not wanting to be alone now after all of this.

“Do you feel okay to drive?” He asks.

You nod.

“Okay, let’s go then.”

Eddie steps away from you, he gives you a small smile before he walks away and towards his car.

You hesitate, and look back towards Steve’s house, looking into the window where the light is on. Your heart feels heavy, it longs for him, but there is so much sadness inside of you.

You’re not stupid, you knew how he felt about you, you knew what this was to him, you knew he never wanted more, he will never want more.

You know how this will end.

You know it.

But he blessed you with a glimpse of hope, this morning, only to crush it again by night.

You knew the moment of happiness was short, but you didn’t think that it would be this short.

You didn’t think that this night would be so much different from the one before.

You didn’t think that it would end with you sobbing into your best friend’s chest.

You didn’t know yet, that it wouldn’t be the last time that you would do that.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

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

#dwoht -- chapter thirteen #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #stranger things angst

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astraystayyh · 10 months

Text

The only exception

barista Minho x reader. strangers to lovers. slow burn. if you can, listen to The only exception by Paramore while reading :)

Minho was content with straying away as far as possible from love. That is until you stumbled into his café on a rainy night, and unwittingly, into his life.

skz song series masterlist

Minho sweeps the countertop with a blue rug, wiping away the scattered droplets of spilled coffee. He grabs a pastry from the showcase- a blondie with a raspberry drizzle on top, placing it on a plate decorated with dainty flowers. And then he gives it to the middle-aged man sitting near the back of the café.

Minho is in Aurora, completing his mid-day shift, and yet it feels as if he's only physically there. His body is moving on auto-pilot, mechanically performing the familiar tasks etched into his memory by now. And he likes it, since it drowns out the tumultuous thoughts plaguing his mind.

Minho used to look forward to the days when Marta- Aurora's exceptional baker, would prepare blondies. The alluring aroma of the freshly made pastry would waft through the café, enveloping both Minho and the customers in a soothing embrace. He enjoyed preparing the coffee and drawing different pretty patterns on top of it. He also liked the music playing, and sometimes, the manager would even let him play some of his own playlists.

But that was before Minho got his heart broken, torn in half, carelessly, as if it didn't belong to a breathing human, but rather to an unfeeling entity. Now, his lattes are void of intricate designs, the blondies prepared by Marta remain untouched, and his mind doesn't register the music playing.

He's just existing, in a stillness he perfectly curated. He's a placid river, undisrupted, running its usual course day after day.

Minho watches as the man clad in a polished suit finishes his treat, before getting up and leaving Aurora with hurried steps. He eats alone now, Minho has noticed, and his ring finger is void of the gold band he used to wear.

Perhaps that's what Minho's fate would also be. Eating alone in cafés he used to bring his lover to, basking in the chatter surrounding him, in the desperate hope that it'll fill the void inside him.

ii.

it's a Thursday, which means Minho is working the night shift at Aurora. It's pouring rain outside, the incessant water droplets a misty veil that fogs up the café's windows. Amidst the downpour, he catches sight of a couple dashing through the rain, hands tightly clutched into one another. They're giggling, as if the rain falling isn't a nuisance, but rather an elixir heightening their love. Minho looks the other way.

The door to Aurora is pushed open, and Minho watches as you set foot inside. You're drenched in rain, from head to toe, strands of your hair sticking to your cheek. You exhale in relief, closing your eyes for a split second as the warmth of the café surrounds you- like a childhood blanket tightly wrapped around your being. There is a hint of a smile as you walk to the counter. It only grows when your eyes set on Minho.

"Hi!" you greet cheerfully and he simply nods in return. The weather was horrible and you were probably uncomfortable from the clothes clinging to your skin, so what were you exactly joyful about?

"Can I have hot chocolate, please? Oh, and a piece of that brownie," you point to the showcase, and he follows your line of sight.

"Sure, anything else?"

"No, thank you," you smile, and he nods once again. "That will be 10 dollars."

"Here," you hand him a crumpled bill and he takes it from you carefully, ensuring your hands don't brush against one another.

You sit down on a chair near the window, and Minho dutifully prepares your order. He brings it to you once he's done, and you grin at him once again. You smile a lot, he thinks to himself.

Minho goes on with his tasks, cleaning the dirty cups in the sink and grounding the coffee beans. When he's done, he can't help but notice you grabbing some napkins from the table and dabbing your neck and face dry with them. He sighs to himself before retreating to the café's backroom.

"Here, to dry your hair with," he says, handing you a clean towel.

Minho leaves before you could smile at him again.

iii.

It's Tuesday, and Minho has just served a freshly baked cinnamon roll to Mark- the middle-aged man who just introduced himself to Minho after months of frequenting Aurora.

Minho liked having regulars in his shifts, familiar faces to look into. This was part of the reason why he picked being a barista as a part-time job- he enjoyed people-watching. Not in a noisy way; he simply liked imagining the lives of the people surrounding him. It served as a distraction from his own.

Among the regulars was a woman in her thirties who only ordered a chaï latte with a blueberry muffin. Then there was that one student, with blonde hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He really despised bitter coffee, always ordering his with abnormal amounts of syrup.

And now, there was you too. You've been coming to Aurora regularly for the past few weeks since your initial visit. Minho still hasn't memorized your go-to order because you don't have one. You pick a new drink each time as if you were on a mission to taste everything on the menu.

You come here alone, occupying the same seat by the window with your chin resting on your palm. He suspects you enjoy people-watching too since you often gaze outside. You also bring books with you, reading them while sipping on your beverage. Sometimes you write too, in a tiny sage notepad.

And you smile, god do you smile a lot. At young children passing by in the street, at an elderly couple holding hands, at the black cat that sleeps on the edge of the window. And you smile at Minho. Each time you order, each time your eyes meet his from across the café. Minho likes to believe that happiness was so deeply ingrained within you, it became the very essence of your soul- an intrinsic part of your being you could not part with.

The door to Aurora is pushed open and Minho isn't surprised to see you entering once again, your bag loosely hanging from your shoulder.

"Hi!" you greet excitedly as you usually do, and Minho simply nods, as he usually does.

"I'm sorry if this is a bit weird," you preface, piquing Minho's curiosity. "I'm not really craving anything today, so can you make me your favorite drink?"

"My favorite drink?" he repeats, a bit incredulously and you nod eagerly. "Yes, I drink anything and I don't have any allergies, so whatever you prepare is fine!" you smile hopefully at him.

He stays silent, mulling over your request. He goes to say no, but the smile slowly slipping from your face makes a strange pang of guilt wash over him.

"On second thought, I'll just have-"

"Okay," he interrupts, "I'll bring it to you when it's done," he quickly says and the smile etches itself on your lips once again. Minho feels an unexpected relief dawn on him at its sight.

"Thank you! I'm yn, by the way," you introduce.

"Minho," he says, although you can read it on his nametag.

"Minho," you repeat, and he finds himself itching to hear his name dripping from your lips again.

Minho prepares you an iced americano with cold foam, and two pumps of white mocha, since you seem to enjoy drinks on the sweeter side. He watches breathlessly from the counter as you take a sip of it, closing your eyes to fully relish in its taste. Your nose scrunches up in delight before you quickly turn around to shoot him a thumbs up from afar.

Minho nods, before turning his back to you. Unwillingly, a small smile tugs at his lips. He's glad you liked it.

iv.

Another Thursday unfolds following its usual routine. Mark occupies his customary spot in the rear of the café, while the scent of Marta's lemon madeleines permeates the kitchen.

Except you're not smiling.

Minho finds it odd, how there was no cheerfulness in your steps as you walked to the counter. You did not smile while ordering, and your voice carried a tinge of sadness when you thanked him.

You did not ask about his day, nor about his cats- that was also something unusual for you to do. You've asked about them each time since Minho told you about them. He didn't plan on doing so, he just saw you one day eyeing the stickers of his three cats on his phone case, while he was counting your change.

"Are they your cats?" you asked, pointing at them and he nodded, a faint smile dancing at the corners of his lips.

"They are."

"You must love them a lot. They almost managed to make you smile," you teased, grabbing the rest of the money and walking to your usual seat.

Minho steals brief glances at you, as he prepares your matcha latte, a drink you seemed to enjoy a lot lately. You're gazing at the window almost soulfully, your back slightly hunched as if there was an invisible weight crushing you underneath it.

Minho nibbles on his lower lip, contemplating his next move, before grabbing the frothed milk. For the first time in months, he draws a little cat on the surface of your drink, just like he used to do a long time ago.

He brings it to you, and his heart flutters nervously as you gaze down at the cup. He almost second-guesses his action, that is until you beam at him, and Aurora suddenly feels brighter than it did seconds ago.

"When does your shift end?" you ask Minho as he sets your perfectly crafted matcha latte on the table- an order he has committed to memory by now.

"In an hour, why?" he asks curiously and you wave your hand dismissively. "Just wanted to know."

The seconds trickle by slowly, as the hour almost comes to an end. You watch as Minho takes off his apron, running a hand through his hair. It's gotten longer now, silky bangs he tucks behind his ear to keep them from obstructing his vision.

He talks a bit to Seungmin, the other barista that works there. And then he steals a quick glance around the room, where he finds you already looking. You wave him over, and he tilts his head slightly in confusion, before walking to your table.

"Sit down," you smile, gesturing to the chair in front of you. Minho complies silently.

"Here," you take out a container filled with brownies from your bag. "I never properly thanked you, for the towel and for the little cat you drew on my coffee last week. So, here, thank you," you beam at him while sliding the box in his direction.

"I don't- it's nothing, you didn't have to," he says, and you notice a tinge of pink blush covering the tips of his ears.

"I wanted to. I hope you'll like them, I'm not as good as your baker, but I tried," you confess, smiling sheepishly, and Minho feels a sudden urge to vehemently contradict you, to tell you that they must taste good. And even if they didn't it wouldn't matter, because you baked them for him. And that is enough.

But he bites the inside of his cheek harshly, physically stopping this rush of words eager to escape his mouth.

"Let's eat them together, hum?" he simply suggests, opening the container and placing a brownie on your plate before taking one himself.

"Is it good?" you ask tentatively and he pretends to contemplate your question for a moment.

"They're horrible, right? I shouldn't have taken creative liberties with the recipe and-"

"Yn, I'm just kidding," he stops you, a soft smile on his face. "They're delicious, see," he says, finishing the brownie in one bite. "Really good," he compliments, reaching for another piece.

"Okay," you smile in relief, eyes crinkling closed. The sunlight is streaming through the window, casting a golden shadow on your face. You are swaying contently in your place, as you take another bite of the brownie. And you look happy, with him. Minho thinks the brownies are the best he's ever had because he's sharing them with you. Because he got a taste of your happiness through them.

vi.

"Can you believe that professor? He failed half the class and he still thinks he isn't the problem."

You are venting to Minho about your stuck-up Economics professor, while leaning against the countertop. He's listening intently to you, drinking in the details of your face as you talk to him. For some reason, he finds the smile lines on your face mesmerizing, that and the way your eyebrows move with your every word.

These subtle details have been engraved into his memory since the day you gave him the brownies, two months ago. He has grown fond of you, sitting at your table at the end of his shift without you having to ask. You also hang out outside of Aurora, going on frequent walks and discovering new food spots. He never felt that the conversation between you two was strenuous, or forced. It flowed naturally, like a waterfall knowing exactly where it should go.

He also finds that smiling is easy with you. At your jokes, your stories, and your existence. He's lost count of the times he found himself grinning widely at your words, or smiling softly to himself at the thought of you coming to Aurora soon.

"He's too full of himself to admit he's the one who sucks at teaching," Minho comments and you clap in agreement.

"Right! And it's so funny because..." You're still talking but your words go unheard by Minho, like a mindless buzz in the back of his mind. He's frozen in his place, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage as he notices the couple who just came in.

His ex, with the man she cheated on him with.

"Minho? What's wrong?" you call out, snapping him out of his daze. You're eying him worriedly, and only then does he realize how tightly he's holding the countertop.

"Nothing," he curtly replies, as he plasters a neutral expression on his face.

He watches as his ex's eyes widen slightly when she sees him. She forgot he was working here. Of course, it'd be easy to do so since she never visited him at Aurora anyways. Despite the flood of emotions cursing through him, Minho maintains a stoic facade, taking their orders as if she's a mere stranger and not the one behind his shattered heart.

As Minho attempts to prepare their coffee, his hand trembles uncontrollably, forcing him to stop before dropping the milk.

He didn't love her anymore, he was certain of it. But still, the sight of her brought unpleasant memories back to the surface. Ones he tried so hard to bury in the back of his mind. And Aurora was his sanctuary. One, she never tainted with her presence. Has she not taken enough from him already?

"Minho?" you call out softly, and Minho feels guilty because he left you alone with no explanation. Still, when he turns around, he can tell you aren't upset. You are worried, looking at him cautiously.

"Is everything okay?" you ask once again, and this time Minho can't find it in him to lie to you, so he simply shakes his head no.

"Your hand is shaking," you observe, before gently grabbing it in yours. You cover his hand with both of your palms, squeezing it lightly to steady the tremors cursing through it.

Your hand is warm, and very soft, a stark contrast to the sharp emotions surging within him, like pine needles puncturing his heart.

"Would you like me to serve them?" you ask softly, and Minho isn't surprised you picked up on his unease. You're perceptive, it's one of the things he likes about you.

"Please," he responds quietly. You simply smile, reaching for an apron and wrapping it around your waist. You look adorable, intertwining yourself with his world, and the sight of you eases the ache in Minho's soul.

A few minutes later, you grab the tray from his hands and walk over to their table. Minho chuckles inwardly when he notices that you didn't smile at them, serving them with a blank face, and his chest warms a little.

He has you on his side.

Five days later, you're sitting besides Minho on a bench; watching the sun as it dips into the ocean, painting the sky in hues of orange and yellow. Yet, the dazzling colors are the last thing on Minho's mind. All he can think about is you. How you helped him with serving the rest of the drinks that day, how he taught you how to work the coffee machines- a solace from the ugly feelings that roared in him.

"Thank you," he abruptly says and you turn to look at him, perplexed.

"For what you did the other day, with the couple that came in. That was, um... my ex and the person she cheated on me with," he confesses quietly, fiddling with his earlobe. He didn't need to tell you, but he wanted to. "I've moved on, it's just... seeing her again hurt. I don't know why."

Your eyes soften at him, not in pity, but in care. And Minho doesn't mind being vulnerable with you. It's scaring him, but he doesn't mind.

"It's normal for it hurt, it would honestly be weird if it didn't," you smile gently and he sighs in reply, running a hand through his hair.

"I wish it didn't."

"Love is a powerful feeling, it consumes our entire beings. That's why it hurts when our hearts are toyed with. But love itself doesn't hurt, I feel like it's what makes our world move. You know, the little gestures humans do for one another, that are fueled by love. Like, um... scratching someone's back or peeling someone's fruit. You don't have to do those things, but you do. Because you love the person, and it makes your existence feel gentler, and softer on the heart." You explain, the words leaving your mouth and wrapping around Minho's soul, healing parts of him that he didn't know were bruised.

"My point is, it's normal for you to be hurt. But I hope you don't close your heart entirely to the feeling. Because we may not have grand things in our life, but if there is a hand that brushes our tears away and one that folds our laundry, then that's enough for us to lead a beautiful life."

Minho blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep his tears at bay. He felt as if the letters you uttered unfolded and stretched in front of his eyes, morphing into a gentle hand patting his back. Yours.

You smile softly at him, the water's reflection shimmering in your eyes. And Minho thinks that he's standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to dive into the unknown- into you.

"How do you do it?" he chuckles in disbelief, as he leans a bit closer to you. "You make me want to believe in love again," he pauses, before adding quietly, "but only if it's with you."

You remain silent as Minho fidgets with his fingers, before tentatively grabbing your hand in his. He doesn't look at you, his gaze fixated on the way your fingers naturally intertwine with one another- as if finding each other after a lifetime of being apart.

"You know, I'd thought I'd always live like this, keeping a comfortable distance between me and people," he says, raising his head to finally meet your eyes, "and up until now I thought I was content with it, with loneliness, I mean. But... but brownies taste sweeter when I'm with you, and Aurora is brighter when you are in it, and smiling feels like second nature around you. And I don't... I don't think I can go back to being lonely again, not when I've had a taste of you in my life."

Minho's heart is beating wildly into his chest, and he can hear the blood rushing through his ears, frantically, as if to warn him against what he's about to say. But your thumb caresses his palm reassuringly and he wants to try again. With you.

"I- I never wanted to love again, because no one, none of it was ever worth the risk, but you... You are the only exception."

Minho exhales breathlessly and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him to your chest. You hoped that your warmth would ease his nerves a bit, that your hand on his back would feel gentle on his soul. You didn't want to rush your answer, trying to think of something that will patch up the deeply carved scar in his heart, a perfectly made band-aid in the shape of syllables.

It's a foolish hope, you realize, to instantly quiet the cries of a bruised spirit. So you simply settle on saying the truth sitting on the edge of your tongue.

"It will be quite hard, and scary for you," you whisper placing a tender kiss on his shoulder blade. "But I'll help you, if you'd let me. I'll take care of your heart better than I do with my own."

vii.

"Hey, baby," you smile at Minho, slipping behind the counter to be by his side. He pulls you by your waist, kissing your cheek softly.

"I missed you," he pouts, and you giggle, playing with strands of his hair, "I missed you too."

"Do you know what day it is today?" he asks, a shy smile gracing his face.

"No...?" you trail out and he chuckles, taking your hand in his.

"Don't worry, you didn't miss my birthday. It's just... it's been a year since you first came into Aurora."

"You remember?" you ask in amazement, your heart swelling with love for the man standing before you.

"Mm, how could I forget you? Also," he sneakily points to a table near the back, "my favorite couple is back."

You turn around, a soft gasp escaping your mouth as you find Mark gently holding the hands of his date. You smile happily when you finally notice it- the wedding ring, finally back on his finger.

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lewisvinga · 2 months

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mixed emotions | max verstappen/lewis hamilton x hamilton! fem! reader

summary; after the events of abu dhabi 21, everyone wonders how y/n will react or post due to her boyfriend winning his first wdc and her brother losing a record breaking championship.

fc; asantewa chitty + various girls from pinterest

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

note; requested ! tried so hard not to be biased here as a 44 girlie, it lowk hurt 🤒🤒🤒🤒 the sky fall x ad21 edits go hard tho

masterlist !

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; ready for the last race of the seasonnnn!] [caption 2; when your brother and boyfriend are f1 drivers >>]

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and others !

yourusername: so unbelievable proud of how far you have come from the awkward 18 year old you once were who blushed everytime i looked at him. my maxie, you’ve become a wonderful amazing man. i love you so much. congratulations, my champ💗💗

tagged; maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: i love you , always & forever ❤️

yourusername: always & forever💞💞

maxverstappen1: you were so pretty that you made me awkward 😅

yourusername: babe, i was just as awkward bc a certain cute blondie kept staring at me😌

username: omg i

username: these pics are so cute i almost forgot what happened 😣

username: my maxie☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

username: i just know she’s feeling hella mixed emotions rn liked by yourusername !

username: THE WORLD CHAMPPP

username: the bouquet is so huge i’m crying

username: gosh they’re so cute i love them ur honor

charles_leclerc: picture credits; chares_leclerc 😁

yourusername: thank u charles 🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: ur welcome y/n😒

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, and others !

yourusername: to one of the most important men in my life, i’m grateful everyday that you’re my older brother. this is just a small unfortunate bump in the road. us hamiltons are strong and i know you’ll become stronger. i love you so much, lew💜

tagged; lewishamilton

lewishamilton: forever grateful that you’re my baby sister, i love you, y/n ! 💜

yourusername: got a vegan chocolate cake in the oven for u btw 🫂🫂

lewishamilton: God bless baby sisters liked by yourusername !

username: tears actual tears streaming down my face

username: my fave siblings

username: the hamiltons alwaysss eat

username: 🥹🥹🥹

username: i just wanna know how the merc rb family dinners will be like 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️

username: ME TOOO, it’s been months since the last one 😭😭

username: well it might be months for the next one bc of what happened…

username: NOOO😭😭💔💔

username: i know this is supposed to be a cute post after lewis losing, but damn the hamiltons are fine asf

username: so true bestie

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; cooking cooking, can you guess for what?] [caption 2; ready for the hamilton-verstappen family dinner] [caption 3; a vegan chocolate cake by me heals the soul 🫂🤝 ( lewis and max gang up on me )]

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #formula one social media au #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen smau #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen imagine #lewis hamilton smau #lewis hamilton x reader

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jjwantsme · 1 year

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trouble is my middle name

j.m

pairing: jj maybank x girlfriend!pogue!reader

summary: in which y/n decides to leave her boyfriend alone for just a few minutes, and it results in nothing but chaos.

warnings: psychical fighting, an angry but HOT jj, bestfriend!sarah, cussing, mentions of sex, fem reader, let me know if i missed anything!

authors note: jj is so boyfriend for this. you’re welcome

masterlist

“Dude,” JJ laughed, an arm tight around y/n’s waist as he laughed at something pope said, “you’re so full of shit!”

“No, i’m not! What makes you think I can’t do a backflip?” Pope argued back as he rested his forearms on his knees.

“Uh, you were on the math team?!” The blondie laughed in the other boys face, getting distracted when he felt his girlfriend move away from his arm.

He was always like this at parties, always keeping an arm around her or a hand holding hers.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her when she wasn’t around him, of course he trusted her- more than he’s ever trusted anyone before.

He just knew that there were weird people out there, perverted people. And he didn’t want his honey to become a victim to their perverted ways.

“Hey, babe, where you going?” JJ quickly asked y/n before she could get too far. “Oh! I was gonna go hang out with sarah, she texted me and told me to meet her in the bathroom. Is that okay?” She smiled up at him with her sweet eyes, wrapping one of her hands around his.

JJ returned the sweet smile, “of course, baby.”

He leaned in to give her a lingering goodbye kiss, y/n humming lightly into it when she could taste the beer on his lips.

She giggled as she pulled away, “on second thought , maybe i shouldn’t leave you alone. You’ve obviously had too much to drink…”

JJ immediately scoffed, “Pft, I’m fine. Go have fun, pretty girl.”

Y/n grinned and gave him one last peck on his red lips, before walking towards where she knew sarah would be.

JJ smiled as he watched her go, just admiring his little angel. He still couldn’t believe she let him start dating her.

In his mind, y/n was 𝗯𝗲𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗱 out of his league.

She was too pretty, too smart. He was sure she would be valedictorian by the end of the school year- she was the most intelligent person he’d ever met, outdoing pope by miles.

It’s not like JJ was an insecure person, he was definitely over confident. Before he fell for y/n, people described him as a player, being able to kill with his looks.

He just knew a good thing when he got it, and y/n was one of those things.

His state of admiration was cut short when he heard a whistle from behind him, one that he hoped wasn’t towards his girlfriend.

“Damn, look at that ass!”

JJ’s face became red with rage, steam practically coming out of his ears as he turned around.

“Oh, shit.” Pope mumbled, preparing to call y/n back as he knew a fight was about to happen.

Typical party with JJ.

JJ grabbed the ignorant kook by the collar of his shirt, gripping it tight, “What the fuck did you just say about my girlfriend?!”

“Chill, man, i was just saying, it’s a nice-“

He didn’t even get to finish his crude sentence before JJ clocked him right in the face.

Meanwhile, y/n stood in the bathroom doing sarah’s hair, still oblivious to the perverted comment that was previously made towards her.

“Hey, do you hear that? Sounds like a fight…” sarah spoke as she heard commotion from the other side of the door, making y/n pause her movements.

Oh, fuck.

“Goddamn it, J,” y/n mumbled before heading out already knowing the fight would somehow involve her drunk boyfriend.

And she was right, immediately seeing her boyfriend getting separated from some random kook as he spit out blood from his mouth.

For a mere second, as John B and pope held him back, he caught her eye and smiled at her; making her weak in the knees, despite the fact she was mad at his aggressive mannerisms.

“2 minutes,” y/n spoke sternly as she wiped off blood from JJ’s chin with a makeup wipe, “I left you alone for 2 minutes, JJ!”

JJ probably shouldn’t admit this, but man, did it turn him on to see his girlfriend get all feisty on him like this.

“Look, baby, I’m sorry, okay?” JJ sighed, “But i don’t regret what i did! He was being a total jackass.”

“I don’t care what he did, JJ, violence isn’t-“

“He talked about you! In a…weird way. Like, about your body.”

“Oh.” Y/n’s eyes softened as she bit her lip, “you got into a fight over me?”

JJ scoffed, “Damn right, and I’ll do it again!”

Now, y/n probably shouldn’t admit 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, but knowing her boyfriend gave someone a bloody nose for her, was definitely turning her on.

She didn’t need to admit it, though, instead she just kissed him, making him wrap his arms around her waist.

Boy, were they in for a long night.

#jjwantsme #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj obx #outer banks

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randomshyperson · 1 month

Text

Five Times Carol Danvers Kisses You

Summary: The five times Carol Danvers kisses you until you two finally get together.

Warnings: Mentions but nothing explicit, a lot of fluff, mutual pining (and typical angst of trope), best friends to lovers, pre-canon-compliant (takes place before Carol is taken), kissing, happy(ish) ending. | Words: 4.836k

A/N-> As mentioned on this blog before, I absolutely love the dynamics of "Five Times Something" and after watching The Marvels I became obsessed with Carol Danvers, and here I am with something about my beloved blondie. It's short and sweet, and I didn't want to write anything too angsty but you can get hints of what's to come from the canon (Dr.Lawson being a Kree in disguise and what will happen to Carol). But the fic doesn't address this directly and ends up with a happy scene. Let's all live in denial.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

One.

“This is not a place to raise a child” was the justification your father used when he left. Funny enough, he didn't take the child, you, away from all the high-tech military weapons that he described as inadequate for a child to grow up around.

His lost, it what your mother said, an easy smile on her lips while she offered you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. She still had some grease on her jacket and a lot of dust on her hair but she looked beautiful. That was just how things were for Wendy Lawson.

And because she was the best mom anyone could ask for, or at least that was what you would perceive it with your limited references of healthy families. She was the best because she would let you sit around while she worked for the Shield, casually teaching you advanced engineering like it was the same homework you had from secondary school.

That was the only life you knew: Afternoons of trying to stay out of the way of Shield Agents and their big weapons until you were old enough to have a gun yourself.

But before that time came, some of them worried you weren't having a decent childhood. Away from guns at least.

You don't know which of the Agents suggested to Doctor Lawson the kart track, but you wish you could thank them. Your mother, as the busy cientist she always has been, was not available to be around all of the evenings you wished to spend there but she trusted your independence to use the bus after school. Besides, you had the impression that there were always Shield Agents keeping an eye on you no matter where you went.

Só for three whole years, that old place was your favorite. You would run out from the classroom with the first ring of the bell to get to the kart track as fast as you could, and for all those three years, you were also the best runner there.

Of course, it cost you some bloody noose and bruised hands. Especially with sore losers little boys who were very unpleased to be second placed by some random girl. There were also the parents, who would whisper not very lowly on how absurd it was to let an unsupervised little girl in such a violent activity.

As luck would have it, someday you were no longer the only little girl around.

The Danvers were local, and you always thought there were only three of them. The grumpy father and the loud and popular sons. But one day, the one with the warmest smile, the youngest son brought someone with him.

His little sister's name was Carol. She had her blonde hair tied down and she looked ready to punch anyone who gave her a hard time. All the Danvers kind looked the same to be fair. Blonde, strong and angry.

Unlike her brother and their free pass to do as they please, Carol was constantly reprimanded by her father. Even there, in front of the whole crowd and runners, he would scream and pinch her ear, adding to the fury that shone behind Carol's little blue eyes.

The other children would whisper just like their parents but growing up with spies and secret agents gave you this second nature to sneak in and out of places without being noticed. You weren't supposed to hear some of the adults whispering how Mr.Danvers drank more than he should or how his older son was leaving next summer for the army with a purple eye he didn't get in the training. You weren't supposed to but you did.

So the next time Carol crashed a car with one of the other runners, you messed up your perfect record to help her.

Her dad screamed again, as usual. But he left, muttering she could find her way home since she was so clever and Carol had those thick tears in her eyes that made them bluer, so you were helping her before you could give a second thought to it.

She didn't mind that you took her hand and brought her to the administration lobby. She's more interested in knowing how the hell you knew how to get there in the first place.

When you told her you grew up with spies she laughed thinking you were joking. You decided to tell her more stories in the hope it would distract her from the pain of the cuts she got in her legs from the crash.

It worked.

Carol had colorful patches on both her knees when you two sneaked out of there to the bus stop. You could take her home if she wished because you knew a lot about public transport but Carol smiled and said she could do it alone; Her dad was often not around and with soldiers brothers, she knew a lot about doing things by herself.

Yet, she appreciates the gesture and the thought. Her bus should be here in 25 minutes so you sit next to her and let your healthy knee brush her bruised one.

“My name is Carol Danvers by the way.”

You have to chuckle at her line.

“I know who you are, Danvers.” You retort with an easy smile. She looks up with curiosity. You chuckle again. “You know your name is on the scoreboard, right?”

She laughs, almost shyly. You don't know that yet but Carol is not the best at making friends. Especially girlfriends because apparently, every girl hated how not 60s girly behavior she acted on as much as any boy.

You didn't mind. If anything, it kinda made you like her more.

“You didn't have to do that back there you know?” She starts over, fingers tugging at the bandaid you put above her knee. “Lose the race to check on me.”

You shrug, eyes on the road. “No worries. There'll be other races. Besides, you're the only real competition I get there. If you're not participating, what's the fun in winning?”

Carol's cheeks grow a little hotter, but you're both too young to know it has nothing to do with the sun above your heads. You offer her a smile and she gets up to signal to the bus.

But before she leaves, she turns to you again.

It's quicker than her crash that morning, the thank you little peck on your right cheek but is as meaningful as losing a three-year Invictus status on a track race for someone.

Carol nearly flees the scene once she catches the first glimpse of surprise in your expression. You were caught off guard, that's all. But all you can do is laugh to yourself as you watch her run to her bus.

Tomorrow, when you are back here, you'll find Carol so you can share your lunch with her. Today, you would walk home with no clue why the spot she kissed was tingling.

-&-

Two.

Shield Academy is not the army.

It is, as the name suggests, an academic program for the gifted-minded. It's a place where a child who grew up surrounded by the brightest minds on the planet can get it easily.

Well, of course, there's a lot of studying and tiring exams that you wouldn't describe as easy but when taking everything into consideration, the only place a brainy - or huge nerd as Carol would call it - could end up was there.

So while you had big dark blue sweaters with the Shield logo on them, Carol had worn out public school uniforms.

But she was doing okay. In fact, if anyone asked you, even though you were the nerd one in that friendship, for you, Carol was quite brilliant. She had a quick mind and such a strong, well, everything. She was as clever as she was kind. She was passionate about anything she cared for and she was easily your favorite person.

The kart track gave space for the public library and the green plains behind Shield Academia as you two grew up. Carol would take her bike from across town and spend the whole day after school in those green yards with you. Often, she had a football with her while you had a book.

And while you tried to escape your Shield colleagues, Carol would find her spot at your side. She would watch those training agents and wish to be like them, while both of you knew she would follow her brothers to the military when the time came.

But for now, you're sixteen. And Carol has been your best friend for almost 6 years now. You're not sure if friends have anniversaries or if it's something reserved for dating, and since you're not gonna ask any of the agents around, especially not Doctor Lawson, you just assume is okay to get Carol a gift.

She had been wishing for a walkman for so long - she had three already, all broke down during some of her naughty antics, from jumping into the reservation without remembering to take them off her backpack to get into a fight with older kids who thrown her stuff just for the fun of it. So yes, she had those before and she loved music but somehow she always ended up breaking them so you thought maybe because you were the one gifting it, she would be more careful.

You were right of course, but that's hardly the point.

Carol started to act strange after the gift. Even days later, during movie night at her house, she got quiet, which is definitely not a Carol Danvers kind of attitude, so you started to wonder if the present was a good idea at all.

That of course, until Carol clarified the whole thing.

“I got you something too. For, hum, the anniversary thing.”

You pinched her ribs, the nearly shy behavior was such an odd thing to testify that was actually terrifying you. Carol has been your best friend for way too long for that or anything to be awkward between you two.

But then again, adolescence makes everything weird.

You don't open the gift very graciously. Because you were in the middle of movie night, of course, hands full of popcorn butter and Carol was being weird and suspect that you just wanted to put an end to it.

You chuckle at her worn-out team jacket there.

“So your gift to me is your jacket?” You asked with a confused frown, watching your friend struggle with her words the next moments.

“No, I mean yes. But not, just that.” She starts and it's quite the scene. Carol Danvers not being able to talk when that's all she does. “It's my favorite jacket. I… really like it.”

“Do you want it back then?” You suggest with a confused laugh but Carol shakes her head immediately, her cheeks rosy.

“God, no, that’s not…” she takes a deep breath. “I like the jacket, a lot, but not as much as I like you. So I thought, maybe if I can give you something that I really like, it will mean…”

“Oh, I get it.” You say with a smile, holding the jacket against your chest as Carol switches the weight in her foot. “Thank you, blondie. But you don't have to give me your favorite stuff to show me you like me. You don't have to give me anything at all really. Perhaps, all you have to do is say it and I'll believe you.”

Carol nods, shallowing dryly, and without missing a beat, she repeats her words from before: “I really like you.” It's nearly a whisper, and the way she struggles to hold your gaze tells you everything you need to know.

You smile, aware of the warmth spreading in your cheeks and ears.

“I really like you too, Carol.” You tell her and with no hush, you put her jacket on. The blonde in front of you takes a shaky breath once the jacket is properly around your body. You're distracted with the new outfit to take notice of the new dark shine her eyes hold. “Gotta admit it, Danvers, I could totally worm the athletic style. I mean, I look super cool don't I?”

But your question goes unanswered. Carol moves forward, her hands grab the collar of the gifted jacket and just like the first time, she kisses you quicker than you can manage to process.

Her lips are dry against yours because she's nervous. Trembling and terrified. You pull away, and Carol has her eyes closed tightly, breathing unevenly.

You take a deep breath and lick your lips to moisten them a little and the second kiss is much better.

There's this soft noise she makes when you move your mouth but the second you feel her tongue on your lower lip, there's noise around you two.

As if getting electrocuted, Carol jumps away just in time for her evidently drunk father to stumble inside the garage.

Carol is not eight anymore, but she's the only one left in that house. Her older brother taught her five different ways to break someone's noose, but Carol still shakes like the leaves if her father is around with his harsh words and angry looks.

This time, however, he takes a long glance at you both. The guilty looks, accelerated breathing, and he just laughs.

The only thing he says is a slur that makes Carol flinch. Then he turns his back and climbs the stairs to his bedroom, passing out in the hallway before he can make it through.

“Carol, I-” You try but she forces a smile and nods at the door.

“Please go.” She asks. “I have to take him to bed and you don't have to stay.”

“But-”

“Please.”

You leave. And Carol doesn't bring up that night for the next two years.

-&-

Three.

Graduation means Army. More specifically, the Air Force because of course Carol Danvers wants to fly away from everything and everyone.

“Not everyone.” She frowns when you tell her that. Then she smiles, legs brushing yours at the back of her truck. “I would love to have you up there with me.”

You chuckle, giving her shoulder a little bump with your own.

“Sorry Blondie, you know I hate planes.” You joke but the shine in her eyes is deeper now.

“What about spaceships?” She insists it.

You sigh into the night, pensive for a second.

“Well, Mom would probably love it if I ever suggest anything that involves flying.” You say, breaking into a chuckle as your hand moves to the leg you have bent in that position, which allows you to trace your fingers toward your ankle. “Of course, anything other than my secret little Pegasus.”

Carol gives a compliance smile at the mention of the secret tattoo you got on her seventeenth birthday but continues to watch you in silence.

The stars are shining bright above you two, and the parked truck gives as much privacy as one could get in that neighborhood. If you and Carol weren't girls, people would make conclusions.

Perhaps they’ll do it anyway.

“What would I even do up there, Danvers?” You ask her because Carol is so passionate about flying that you're starting to wonder if she is able to see a whole different world up there that you can't.

This time, her hand finds you before her lips. She brings her fingers to yours resting on the truck and locks them. She gets closer and closer and gives you all the time in the world to push her back.

But she's Carol, and she's beautiful and she's your best friend. Why wouldn't you want to kiss her?

There's tongue this time. Hesitant at first then curious, until finally hungry. Of course, Carol Danvers is a good kisser, this asshole.

You break apart, to complain with a husky tone that is unfair but Carol only chuckles before kissing you again. And again. Until somehow you end with your back against her truck, painting into her mouth.

And Carol is seventeen years old and she's a huge virgin like you who really wants this to change tonight. Not just that, of course, but she's still a teen and that's exactly what she chooses to say in order to make this less life-changing than it is.

Because sleeping together as a way of ending high school without the V Card has a completely different meaning than sleeping together because you really want to ruin a friendship.

You swallow at her suggestion, aware that the heat in your veins doesn't cover for the way your heart just broke inside your chest.

But you smile and tell Carol you love her, making sure it sounds platonic. Just to hurt her just as much.

It works, but she kisses you anyway.

-&-

Four.

Maria Rambeau is the most incredible person you have ever met. She's clever and fun and kindhearted. It's so easy to love her and it comes so naturally, that you can't really blame Carol.

You also have no right to be jealous, you tell yourself.

After all, Carol asked more than once for you to at least consider following her to the Air Force. You both had military families, so it made sense for her that you both ended up following the same path.

You were not entirely excluded from that, of course. But unlike Carol with her soldier training, you had medical classes. And while she and Maria learned to shoot people, you learned to heal them.

That of course until the third year, when Carol's training moved to space crafting and yours moved to biological charts. The Pegasus was not the only military project available for you, and being home was good but every time you caught a glimpse of the empty fields near the station, you remember afternoons with Carol and the lack of her ache a hell lot inside your chest.

But visiting her at the base and then at a local bar was a bittersweet occasion.

Because time went by and Carol made a new friend. A lovely and brilliant and apparently less confused woman new best friend. Maria who made her laugh and blush and was such a great company that you couldn't hate her no matter how much the jealousy burned inside your veins.

Somehow, no matter how many dove eyes Carol threw at Maria, she didn't catch them. Immune to her charm entirely. You kinda wished she would teach you that.

The last free week you had was spent visiting Carol and ending up in a bar. But Maria's night was continuing with a good-looking soldier somewheres else, so yours and Carol's would continue with cheap drinks.

It was probably common sense, not to mix alcohol with feelings but you and Carol clearly skipped that class.

You ended up pressed behind the bar's wall in a messy attempt of drunken make-out with your former best friend.

Carol tasted like beer and the army's year changed her. Even drunk, she knew her way around a woman's body now and you had to force your stupid brain to stop wondering about who she had been practicing with. Perhaps Maria was not immune to her charm as you thought she was.

Just as things were getting out of hand, that is, it was probably against some army rules to have sex behind one bar in the military area, Carol pulled away.

She looked so good like that, with messy hair and flushing cheeks, her lips swollen due to the whole thing.

But her eyes were so sad. And you couldn't push the alcohol and the lust away to have clear thoughts on that.

“We can't do this again.” She declares with a seriousness that makes you swallow hard. “I can't.”

She stumbles away and you nearly slip down the hall on your shaky legs. Carol is looking for her car keys but she will definitely fall asleep on the seat.

To be fair, you kinda wished that night would end in her car seat, just in very different scenarios.

“Why not, Danvers?” You manage to question once the anger pushes a little of the alcohol away. Carol sighs tiredly. “Why?” You almost scream and she stops in her tracks, turning to give you a hurt look.

“I can't do this again, okay?” She retorts and she's drunk but she's so hurt. You can see it in her eyes and it kills you to think it is something you have done it. “I don't have the strength in me to get over you again”.

Your world freezes for a whole second. Your mouth is bitter suddenly.

“O-over me?” You repeat her words, confusion mixing with the pain you feel growing in your chest. “When… When were you under me?”

The question is the best of what your drunk brain can come up with but it's enough for Carol to understand.

She lets out a sad chuckle. “C'mon, Lawson. How could you not know? Everyone did. Even my dad, especially my dad.” She corrects herself then, bitterly before taking a deep breath. “It's past. It doesn't matter anymore. We are no longer kids, messing around with things we don't understand. I know what am I. And I know we shouldn’t. I won't jeopardize our friendship again for someone I cannot have.”

There are tears in your eyes, and Carol has the fucking worst timing in the world because your brain simply can't catch up with the meaning of this conversation with all the booze in the way.

“Carol, what are you even saying?”

She just smiles, giving a nod to the bar.

“Let's get inside, I'll get you a cab back to your hotel.”

She doesn't let you question further and the next morning, when the hangover barely allows you to open your eyes, Carol says the worst thing you did last night was try dancing with a Statue.

-&-

Five.

Doctor Lawson has been acting strange lately. She says it's work stress when she returns your calls and ignores your advice about her retiring.

You use your mother's stress as an excuse to come home, and it seems ridiculous that you have to invent reasons to see Carol, but she gives you no choice. Things have been very strange between you in recent months.

The house is a mess, and it's the first time you've worried about the possibility of dementia.

Strange phrases, disconnected words. You think about calling the head of Shield when you put Dr. Lawson to bed after making her some hot tea, but you end up calling Carol.

Your former best friend brings her old truck into your garage.

"Hey, blondie." She hugs you first at the greeting, and you sigh with satisfaction at the contact. You almost forget the stress of the whole meeting with your mother. "It's good to see you."

"I missed you." Carol says with a smile, squeezing you tighter before letting go. "What happened? You sounded worried on the phone."

You sigh before telling her everything you saw, standing there leaning on Carol's truck in the dim light of the garage. It's her turn to sigh when you finish.

"Good thing I brought beer." She comments, getting a laugh out of you.

You don't even notice the time passing that night, but it's like being back in senior year, sitting side by side in the back of Carol's truck, forgetting the world around you for a moment.

When the case of beers is about to run out, you've said almost everything you have to say. Carol thinks she needs to add something more.

"I know the circumstances aren't the best but... I can't say I'm sad." She begins, looking straight ahead, a half-full can of beer in her hands. "With the possibility of you coming to live here again, I mean. I've kind of hated Washington since you left. And Shield too, for taking you away."

You giggle shyly at this and don't know what to say to Carol, so you just decide to hug her. But you're a bit dizzy after the third beer and miscalculate your approach. You end up too close to her face and can see almost in slow motion how the blue darkens or how Carol chokes on her breath.

"I'm sorry, I-" you begin in a hoarse voice, but she doesn't let you finish. The beer can slips out of her hand as she uses both to pull your face towards her.

It's an intense, messy, and passionate kiss. Carol swallows all the sighs that escape your lips as she presses her mouth to yours. Her tongue doesn't ask for passage. You melt against her and try your best to match her energy, suddenly feeling very dizzy, unrelated to the beer.

Her hands move from your face to your neck and down to your waist. Carol mentions pulling you onto her lap, but the balcony lights flicker on and she grunts as she pulls away.

You're still blinking spellbound at the whole thing, trying to catch your breath as she stands up, adjusting her hair.

"Fuck, I shouldn't have done that." She mutters more to herself than to you, hoarse and upset. You swallow dry. "I'm so stupid."

"Carol."

"You're so fucking stupid, Carol Danvers, I swear to God." She ignores your call, continuing to curse quietly to herself. You frown, but end up looking at the porch; your mother has woken up and looks just as lost as before and you really need to check on her.

When you get out of the truck, you touch Carol on the shoulder, and she turns around almost in despair.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, I'm leaving-"

"Carol, shut up." You cut her off and don't let her say another word.

She shuts up immediately. "I really have to get back inside, and make sure my mom doesn't turn on any water or store the cat in the fridge again." You chuckle apologetically, stroking her cheek. "But I need you to understand that this isn't a mistake, an accident or a thoughtless act after a few beers. At least it isn't and it never was for me. We need to start talking to each other."

Carol nods quickly, swallowing as she looks down at your swollen lips. "Yeah, talking is good."

You smile, and hear the sound of the cat in the house and think you'd better start running. "Later, okay?"

"Later."

But your mother doesn't have dementia. She's not even allowed in a regular hospital. Shield is strangely private about everything, but you're practically coerced into signing confidentiality papers about the current state of Dr. Lawson, who seems to miraculously improve after spending an hour in a room with other agents.

Carol is the only person you can talk to about things, and she has news of her own.

"Maria is pregnant." She tells you, with a twinkle in her eye, without waiting for you to finish absorbing the news. "And she wants me to be the godmother!"

You're happy for Maria, especially perhaps because she's seeing that handsome soldier and she and Carol have nothing going on. Also, you need to tell Carol that you can go back to Washinton now that your mother is better.

"Oh, I thought..." The blonde hesitates as she hears the news, trying not to look upset by forcing a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "I thought you'd decided to stay."

You're having breakfast in the living room of your house, Dr. Lawson is working upstairs. You swallow the bitter feeling of hurting Carol again.

"I would, for Mom. But why would I stay in Louisiana?" It's a rhetorical question because you both know very well what would make you stay. Carol laughs sadly, looking down. You get tired of pretending. " I would stay for you. I would stay for... us."

She looks at you in silence, a conflict of emotions on her face. "Don't be ridiculous, you can't just give up your career for a friendship-"

"Carol." You cut her off seriously, and she choked on her sentence, her eyes as tearful as yours. You give her a small smile, trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest. "You know that's not what I'm saying."

She swallows dryly, and despite reaching out to take your hand, she insists; "I'm gonna need you to say it."

"God, you're such an asshole." You gasp with emotion, laughing as tears of happiness escape yours and her eyes. Carol also laughs but waits. "Okay, Danvers. You've got me. I'm completely, irrevocably in love with you. I have been for a long time, maybe since the first time I saw you. And I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you."

Carol almost knocks over the coffee table when she moves in to kiss you but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers fics #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagines #captain marvel #marvel imagines

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thisismeracing · 5 months

Text

Super shy | MS47

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x plus size!reader (she/her) ― Warnings: mentions of food, shy!reader, and tooth-rotting fluff. ― Summary: The one where your boyfriend is your biggest fan to the point of turning his account into a fan account or something of the sort. Or, Mick and Yn's relationship through the years. ― A/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

✷ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon masterlist ✷ you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment(don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

2020

ynusername

liked by ginaschumacher, jackdoohan, and others

ynusername what a beautiful season! super proud of my blondie :)

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mickschumacher thank you for being by my side through it all! I love you, pretty ❤️

user2 Yn you're amazing, but coffee with ice and milk is a crime!

collegefriend congrats, mick, the whole class was rooting for you!! 🥳

⤷ collegefriend2 the whole class: our friend group that happens to have seven people in it lol

jackdoohan send me the pics you took 🙏🏻🙏🏻

mickschumacher

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and others

mickschumacher Yes, we decided to adopt! Meet Angie Yln-Schumacher 🐶❤️

view all comments

jackdoohan omg you two look like a fifty years old couple sometimes 🥸

⤷ mickschumacher that sounds so single of you, I might have to ignore 🤨

ginaschumacher omg bring her to the ranch asap!!!!!! (also, you look perfect on this set, yn!!! ❤️❤️❤️)

⤷ ynusername love you, G 💖

user05 can Yn please share her skin care routine with us? home girl is glowing!!!

ynsfriend the shirt omg hahahaha I love you guys sm

username1 Angie is so cute!!

ynusername 🩷🩷🩷

2021

ynusername

liked by estebanocon, ginaschumacher, and others

ynusername went vroom vroom this weekend 💙

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user03 I am so ready for the paddock pics aaaa

mickschumacher love you, pretty!

⤷ ynusername love you more, blondie <3

oconzinho31 omg so this is his gf?? She’s stunning!!!!

mickschumacher

liked by estebanocon, lewishamilton, and others

mickschumacher had a great week ❤️

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estebanocon it was nice catching up with you guys

⤷ ferrarifanatic he says as if they weren't together every weekend lol

⤷ schumashoes nah but they were gossiping I'm sure, during the weekend the focus is racing

ynusername 💞💞

lancestroll 🥂🥂

charlesleclown I wanted to be Yn sm. Can you imagine being this pretty and also dating Mick Schumacher?!

2022

ynusername

liked by franciscac.gomes, lilymhe, and others

ynusername 💛 a little throwback time to Angie a year ago

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ginaschumacher omg I'm so used to seeing Angie that I didn't notice she lost her puppy face

lilymhe 🤍🤍🤍

1directionpaddock all of her dumps are so aesthetic, I'm in love

yukilover Yn you should show your face more, you're so pretty 💘

mickschumacher my princess and my queen ❤️

⤷ ynusername yeah, Angie is our little queen 💗

⤷ mickschumacher you're my queen, silly 😜

mickschumacher

liked by sebastianvettel, carlossainz55, and others

mickschumacher week's dump

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lancestroll where am I? 🤨

⤷ estebanocon you were gossiping with Yn and Albon

⤷ ynusername as if you weren't gossiping in the last pic huh

⤷ strollingaround LMAO get them, queen!

hamiltontouch can someone make a fan account for Yn clothes? I need all of her sets, they're too perfect!!

lewishamilton ❤️❤️

rbrvettel can we keep seb forever please? :(

ynusername

liked by georgerussell63, lilymhe, and others

ynusername It's the most beautiful time of the year 💚❤️🤍

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ginaschumacher one more xmas together 🥰

mercmick I WANNA LIVE ON THIS DUMP!

jackdoohan 💚

mickschumacher every time is the most beautiful time of the year as long as I'm with you

⤷ ynusername you're so cheesy

⤷ mickschumacher just for you 😚

monzasainz I wanna cry they're so cute

2023

mickschumacher

liked by lancestroll, danielricciardo, and others

mickschumacher month dump: sza concert, we adopted a sister for Angie, and we're moving to a bigger place 🤍

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estebanocon now you're a father of two

interlagoshamilton Mick account is actually a fan account for Yn I said what I said 🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️

⤷ tauritsunoda and you’re right, bestie!

happyricciardo I wanna be loved the way Yn is, get flowers, and praises, and have a man obsessed with me the way Mick is with her *crying in single*

hammert1m3 THEY'RE MOVING TO A BIGGER PLACE CUZ NOW THEY HAVE TWO DOGS, AND DKGJDKHJD OMG IM SO HAPPY BUT IM CRYING

ynusername I love you forever, blondie 💗 here to many more years together

⤷ mickschumacher I love you the most, Schatzi

lilymhe 🤎🤎 ily guys!

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! I wanted to write something fluffly, but didn’t have the biggest idea so I went with just fluff, that’s all there is to the piece, but I hope you like it! 🤍 make sure to let me know your thoughts by reblogging and leaving me an ask!

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mickslover @fdl305 @lunnnix @saintslewis @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @smiithys @crimeshowjunkie @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @f1kota @wondergirl101ks @shhhchriss @leclercsluv @karmabyfernando @baby-is-crying @crashingwavesofeuphoria @v1naco @cixrosie @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @thatgibbsygirl @the-depressed-fellow @darleneslane @skepvids @goldenalbon @nichmeddar @buckybarnessweetheart @nzygftoji @fastcarsandshit @scopeiguess @jamie2305 @balekanemohafe @callsign-scully @schumacheer @dearxcherry @princewis

✷ check here my main masterlist | patreon masterlist and my taglist if you wanna be tagged on my pieces

#ms47 #mick schumacher #f1 x reader #plus size!reader #mick schumacher x plus size!reader #f1 x plus size!reader #f1 x black!reader #formula one imagine #f1 smau #op: smau #f1 social media au #mick schumacher social media au #f1 fandom #mick schumacher x black!reader #mick schumacher x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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sexy-opium-ravioli · 2 years

Text

Blondie's Masterlist

...

Adventure Time

Dorohedoro

Detroit: Become Human

Monsters!

Original Characters!

Transformers??

Batfamily

Misc.

#masterlist #blondie's masterlist #>:)

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xtra7s · 3 months

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 ★ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

pairing: Renee Rapp x reader

Synopsis: Renee Rapp finds herself being forced to co-write with her popstar enemy, Y/N YL/N.

content: none

word count: 2500+

masterlist

Sunlight, pale and watery, peeked through Renee's eyelids, coaxing them open. She groaned, squinting at the dust motes dancing in the sunbeam, momentarily lost before memory slammed back, a tidal wave of yesterday's chaos. The sold-out show, the encore that bled into the early hours, the post-show whirlwind of sweaty hugs and hoarse thank yous.

She sat up, wincing at the way her muscles protested, stretched languidly like a sun-drenched cat. Her apartment, usually alive with the echoes of guitar strings and her own humming, was blessedly quiet. She savored the stillness, reveling in the luxury of an unscheduled morning.

Coffee first, always coffee. Slipping into a faded black tee and ripped sweatpants, Renee padded into the kitchen, the familiar ritual grounding her. The hiss of the espresso machine, the frothy gurgle of milk, all a symphony of caffeine-fueled peace. She curled up on the window seat, mug cradled in her hands, watching the city wake up beneath a veil of mist.

The day unfurled with the lazy elegance of a catnap. She strummed aimlessly on her guitar, chords bleeding into each other like watercolor paints. A melody hummed beneath her breath, hesitant at first, then soaring with newfound confidence. Words followed, tumbling out like spilled secrets, raw and vulnerable. This one, she knew, wouldn't be for the stage. This one was for her, etched in the quiet of her living room, sunlight painting gold across her notebook pages.

Mid-verse, the phone buzzed, pulling her back from the daydream landscape. It was Adam, her manager, his voice a staccato counterpoint to the slow tempo of her morning. "Hey, sleepyhead. Get that caffeine flowing, you've got a meeting in an hour."

Renee blinked the edges of her daydream blurring. "A meeting? With who?"

"Surprise," Adam purred, a mischievous glint in his voice. "Just be at the office by noon, looking fierce. Trust me, this is good."

The call ended, leaving behind a delicious cocktail of curiosity and apprehension. Adam rarely sprung surprises, preferring the well-worn path of meticulous planning. A quick peek at her calendar confirmed the blankness of the day, a testament to his clandestine maneuver. Renee, intrigued, finished her coffee with newfound urgency.

A quick shower scrubbed away the remnants of sleep and yesterday's glitter. Jeans replaced sweatpants, and a vintage band tee swapped for a sleek silk cropped tank. She threw on a leather jacket, its worn patina contrasting the delicate silver chain around her neck. A flick of mascara, a touch of rouge, and voila, Renee was ready for whatever mystery Max had cooked up.

The subway ride was a whirlwind of crumpled newspapers and hurried goodbyes. The city buzzed outside the windows, a symphony of car horns and sirens that somehow managed to be lullaby familiar. Renee tapped her foot against the worn floor, an impatient rhythm against the steady rumble of the train.

Adam's office, on the top floor of a sleek glass tower, felt as controlled as its occupant. He sat behind a minimalist desk, a tablet gleaming like a black mirror in his hands. "Well, look who graced us with her presence," he drawled, a sharkish grin lighting up his face.

"Alright, spill it," Renee demanded, settling into the plush leather chair opposite him. She took off her jacket and rested it on the chair, "Who's the mystery meeting with?"

Adam smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Ready for the real kicker, Blondie?" He reached for his tablet, tapping the screen with a flourish. "Your writing partner for these demos? None other than the one and only..."

The name that flashed on the screen froze Renee's blood. Y/N YL/N. The girl who seemed to embody everything Renee wasn't – polished, perfect, and seemingly born with a platinum record tucked behind each earlobe.

Their paths had crossed a few times – an awkward introduction at an awards show, a tense exchange at a music industry party – and each encounter had felt like navigating a minefield. Y/N’s icy smile and razor-sharp wit felt like a personal affront, a constant reminder of everything Renee felt insecure about.

The news hit her like a rogue wave. Collaborating with Y/N? Writing songs together? It was like asking a firefly to tango with a scorpion. The very idea sent shivers down her spine, a delicious blend of dread and fascination.

"You're joking, right?" Renee's voice was a tight whisper, her fingers twisting in her lap.

Adam chuckled, but there was a glint of steel in his eyes. "Nope. Word on the street is that Y/N's been looking for a songwriting partner with some... grit. Apparently, her last collaborator couldn't handle the 'diva act.'" He raised an eyebrow, daring her to challenge him.

Renee squared her shoulders, a spark of defiance lighting in her eyes. "Challenge accepted," she declared, her voice steadier than she felt. "Let's see who the real diva is when we're both spitting shit in a recording booth."

The Hollywood dream suddenly felt a lot less glamorous and a lot more like stepping into a coliseum, armed only with a guitar and a stubborn sense of self. Writing songs with Y/N was going to be hell, but maybe, just maybe, it would also be the spark that ignited something extraordinary, both on the record and within herself.

As Adam slid a glass of champagne into her hand, the city lights outside the window seemed to wink, beckoning her towards a future both terrifying and thrilling. The Renee Rapp show was just getting started, and her first act was facing her demons, head-on and harmony-filled.

"Alright, Renee," he said, pushing himself up from his chair. "Y/N's on her way to the studio right now. Time to go meet your new best friend."

Renee swallowed hard, the champagne suddenly turning to vinegar in her stomach. "Right," she croaked, forcing a smile. "Studio. Collaboration. Teamwork."

Adam raised an eyebrow, his sharkish grin widening. "More like controlled chaos, but hey, that's where the magic happens, right?" He winked, then tossed her black leather jacket to her. "Go get 'em, tiger. Show her what Renee Rapp's made of."

The city stretched out before her, a concrete jungle pulsating with possibility and peril. Grabbing a taxi, Renee sped towards the studio, her thoughts churning like a washing machine on a spin cycle. Would Y/N be the ice queen she always appeared to be, or was there something more beneath the polished surface? Could they possibly navigate the choppy waters of songwriting together, or would their egos collide in a spectacular, public shipwreck?

The studio, nestled in the heart of Hollywood, hummed with creative energy. The air crackled with the sound of guitars being tuned, drumsticks tapping impatiently, and voices warming up scales. Renee took a deep breath, stepping into the dimly lit control room where Angela waited, her music producer, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"She's in booth two," she said, pointing towards a soundproofed glass box.

Renee nodded, her heart pounding a primal rhythm against her ribs. She pushed open the heavy door, stepping into the booth like a gladiator entering the arena. There, bathed in the soft glow of studio lights, sat Y/N YL/N.

For a moment, the world held its breath. The two rivals were locked in a silent standoff, their past encounters casting long shadows across the room. Then, a slow smile spread across Y/N's face, a smirk that was equal parts of challenge and intrigue.

"Renee Rapp," she drawled, her voice like honeyed poison. "Fancy seeing you here."

Renee met her gaze, her own smile steely and determined. "Yeah yeah, Y/N," she replied. "Let's get to work."

And so, the unlikely collaboration began. Two voices, so different yet somehow destined to intertwine, filled the studio with the raw energy of unspoken feelings and unbridled talent. The air crackled with tension, with unspoken words hanging heavy between them. Yet, as their fingers danced across guitars and their voices blended in unexpected harmonies, a spark ignited.

It was a dance on the edge of a volcano, fueled by equal parts animosity and grudging respect. They challenged each other and pushed each other to their limits, their voices soaring and crashing like waves against the rocks.

Frustration hung heavy in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Hours had bled by, filled with discarded melodies and half-written verses, with the tantalizing promise of a song just out of reach. Renee strummed her guitar listlessly, the chords echoing the emptiness in her mind.

Y/N sat across from her, perched on a stool, her usually immaculate hair mussed, dark circles smudging the corners of her eyes. The polished veneer of her persona had peeled away, revealing the vulnerability beneath. For the first time, Renee saw her not as a rival, but as another artist struggling with the same demons.

A sudden change in Renee's strumming caught Y/N's attention. Her head snapped up, eyes locking with Renee's, who seemed unaware of the shift. Her fingers danced across the strings, weaving a melody that was both raw and captivating. Renee's lips moved silently, forming words that hung in the air like wisps of smoke.

"You say that I'm your favorite," she hummed, her voice low and husky, "With your hand between my thighs."

Y/N's breath hitched, a shiver dancing down her spine. The lyrics, raw and unapologetic, cut through the tension like a knife. This wasn't the sugary pop Y/N was known for; this was something darker, something more real.

Renee's eyes fluttered open, meeting Y/N's gaze with a newfound intensity. The air crackled with electricity, a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

"Tell me if you were gonna," Renee continued, her voice gaining strength, "That I would be the one you tried."

Y/N watched, hypnotized, as Renee mumbled a few more lyrics before shaking her head. The raw lyrics, sung with smoky confidence, peeled back layer after layer of the facade Renee typically projected. Y/N noticed things she'd never observed before - the flecks of gold in Renee's blue eyes that sparked with each line, the way her nose crinkled adorably when she concentrated, and the subtle curve of her jaw that spoke of hidden strength.

The song, a shared confession, had cracked open Y/N's carefully constructed shell, revealing a tangle of emotions she'd kept buried for years. Her gaze traced the line of Renee's neck, the pulse fluttering beneath the delicate skin, and a shiver ran down Y/N's spine.

The air crackled with a charged silence. Y/N's walls, once brick and mortar, were now mere cobblestones, tumbling into disarray. She met Renee's eyes, her own unguarded and vulnerable, a stark contrast to the icy color they usually held.

"That..." Y/N's voice was a mere whisper, "That was something else, Renee."

Renee, sensing the shift, offered a tentative smile. "It was," she agreed, her voice husky.

There, in the dimly lit studio, their rivalry seemed to melt away, replaced by a fragile understanding, a whispered promise of shared vulnerability. They stepped out into the dawn, the first rays of sunlight painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. It was a new beginning, a blank canvas upon which they could paint a masterpiece of collaboration.

But as they left the studio and the magic of the music faded, Y/N's walls began to rebuild, brick by metaphorical brick. The vulnerability

evaporated, replaced by the familiar mask of cold detachment. Her back straightened, her gaze sharpened, and a familiar smirk played on her lips.

"Alright, Renee," she drawled, her voice tinged with her usual icy edge. "Hit me up tomorrow, I'll come over and we can continue writing."

Renee blinked, startled by the sharp shift. She nodded as the warmth of their shared moment had dissolved, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. But something had changed. Renee saw a flicker of the woman beneath the ice queen, a glimpse of the vulnerability Y/N had so briefly unveiled.

The game had changed, indeed. Renee knew the road ahead would be paved with challenges, with Y/N's barbed wit and ruthless ambition a constant obstacle. But she also knew that, hidden beneath the layers of frost, there was a fire in Y/N that could be kindled. The melody they had forged together, raw and honest, was proof. And that, in itself, was a victory.

The rivalry was far from over, but now, it danced with a hint of something else, something unspoken and intriguing. Renee met Y/N's gaze, a new challenge glinting in her own eyes.

Renee stumbled out of the studio, eyelids drooping and nerves buzzing. Sleep, usually a welcome sanctuary, seemed elusive tonight. The image of Y/N's walls rebuilding, brick by icy brick, replayed in her mind, a discordant note against the echo of their raw collaboration.

She drifted into her apartment, the silence pressing against her like a suffocating wave. The ukulele leaned against the wall, untouched, yearning for the warmth of her fingers. Instead, she gravitated towards her trusty guitar, its familiar weight grounding her in the chaos of her emotions.

Her fingers danced across the strings, returning to the notes she played in the studio, a way to translate the tangled mess in her head. The chords came hesitantly at first, a tentative whisper, then gathering momentum like a gathering storm. Her voice, raw and unfiltered, filled the quiet room, weaving a tapestry of unspoken desires and lingering questions.

"In the PM, all the pretty girls," she crooned, "They have a couple drinks, all the pretty girls."

The lyric hung in the air, heavy with both longing and self-awareness. Was it her own reflection she saw in those words, the girl in the mirror seeking solace in the fleeting comfort of company? Or was it Y/N, a glimpse beneath the polished surface, a yearning for something just beyond her reach?

"So now, they wanna kiss all the pretty girls," Renee continued, her voice gaining strength, "They got to have a taste of a pretty girl."

The melody soared, achingly beautiful, and laced with a bittersweet truth. The game they played, the unspoken tension between them, was it just a desperate grasp for connection in a world of curated personas? Or was there something more, something simmering beneath the veneer of rivalry?

She strummed the final chord, letting the silence settle like a soft snowfall. The lyrics etched onto the page in messy scrawl, seemed to hold the answer to a question she hadn't even dared to ask. Tonight, the lines between artist and subject had blurred, Renee revealing not just melodies but a sliver of her own soul.

With a heavy sigh, she slipped into bed, the image of Y/N's eyes, both guarded and curious, dancing behind her eyelids. Sleep, at last, brought its welcome embrace, but within its depths, another song was stirring, waiting to be born. In the morning, with the city streets shimmering beneath the sunrise, Renee knew the game had just begun.

The melodies they created, confessions hidden in plain sight, would be their currency, their battle cries, their whispered promises. Whether it led to harmony or heartbreak, one thing was certain: the world they were about to create, together, would be unlike anything anyone had ever heard.

#renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #lesbian #wlw #the sex lives of college girls #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #lgbtq #mean girls

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hoonvrs · 3 months

Text

CIGARETTES

44 okay blondie

PREV < MASTERLIST > NEXT

S. NOTES one more chap left💔 real ones rmb blondie

SYNOPSIS where university student jake develops a little crush on the girl he sees with a cigarette between her lips in the smoking area and decides he needs to impress her. how else would he do that except calling his smoker friend to teach him how to smoke ( spoiler: it doesn’t go so well. )

TAGLIST ( CLOSED ) @yeokii @yenqa @wonpoem @stariszn @beomgyusonlywife @isoobie @enhaz1 @fakeuwus @marybboooooooo @a-l-i-y-a @rodygr @glitterssim @mrchweeee @keikeu @chiiiiiiiiis @idubiluv @rayray22222 @deobitifull @aylin-hijabi @hyhees @weird-bookworm @dammit-jjk @lacieeeeee00 @xiaoderrrr @donghyckl @minl0u @en-dream @babyillneverleavelwt @junityy @seongclb @shawnyle @yueriots @cb97mylove @sngvhs @manooffline @bbangricz @kjrcrz @imsiriuslyreal @jaehyunsblkgf @jlheon @mariji @jaysdze @rikisly @en-happiness @treasxreblue @soomelon @jungwonderz @erehkinnie30 @ilovehimyourhonour

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leclerc-s · 3 months

Text

snow angel - track one

series masterlist // next

1 YEAR LATER

liked by alex_albon, blakelively, mickschumacher and others

rheareynolds soft launches are a thing right?

view all comments

user1 nah cause how did lando no wins fumble her?

↳ user2 the better question is how did nowins ever bag her in the first place

user3 imagine fumbling the rhea reynolds. lando no bitches truly fucked up.

alex_albon i expect credits for that third picture. i was scarred for life.

↳ rheareynolds you're the one who barged in demanding we watch a movie.

user4 she's gone for a year, besides promotional purposes for her ep and comes back with a soft launch?

user5 MOTHER, WE DEMAND ANSWERS! WHO IS HE?

user6 can't believe a m*n stole my wife. she was for the girls and the gays only.

lilymhe can't believe some blonde bitch stole my wife.

↳ rheareynolds still yours baby. always 😘

↳ lilymhe good. blondie could never compete with me

↳ user7 i thank god everyday that rhea's break-up with no wins didn't take this wonderful duo from us.

vancityreynolds what the fuck? who is that? better not be some vroom guy again.

↳ rheareynolds don't you have children to take care of? blakelively you're overgrown toddler is loose again.

↳ blakelively oh how adorable! i expect to meet him when you're ready.

↳ vancityreynolds you're supposed to be on my side?

↳ blakelively i only married you for your sister.

↳ rheareynolds suck on that ryan!

↳ user8 this family is my everything.

charles_leclerc when did you start dating? why was i not informed of this?

↳ georgerussell63 or me?

↳ maxverstappen1 why did alex know before us?

↳ rheareynolds i told lily, who told alex. you think i wanted that guy to know?

↳ alex_albon i can read your comments rhea.

user9 no wins really thought everyone would drop rhea the moment they broke up these guys love her.

user10 WHY IS NO ONE LOSING THEIR SHIT OVER RHEA SOFT LAUNCHING? WHO IS THIS MAN? WE MUST HAVE ANSWERS!

↳ user11 as long as this one doesn't cheat on her, we don't really care.

↳ user12 something no wins never could do

george russell who is he?

charles leclerc we demand answers rhea!

pierre gasly i just like gossip

max verstappen oh so suddenly now she can't answer?

alex albon i love knowing something you guys don't

lily muni he reminder you only know because i accidentally told you

esteban ocon you people are stupid.

max verstappen excuse me? esteban ocon i would recognize that blonde head of hair anywhere lance stroll i would too. it’s mick

rhea reynolds BOOOOO! way to ruin my soft launch dumb and dumber

charles leclerc ANOTHER DRIVER? george russell WHAT HAPPENED TO “I’LL NEVER DATE ANOTHER FUCKING DRIVER AGAIN?!”

rhea reynolds you’re gonna look at mick and say not to him?

lily muni he i wouldn’t. that’s like saying no to a puppy alex albon they truly are the golden retriever and black cat trope.

lance stroll you’re fucking welcome

pierre gasly for what?

lance stroll for setting them up on a blind date? well lily helped.

lily muni he yeah i did! they’re great for each other

charles leclerc at least we know he won’t cheat on her like n*rris

rhea reynolds my brother would be proud of the censorship of his name. he still calls him no bitches to this day.

george russell well ryan is an icon and l*ndo has no bitches.

alex albon doesn't he have a girlfriend? charles leclerc i thought they broke up? max verstappen doesn't matter, in our hearts he will always remain bitchless max verstappen and that is not me saying his girlfriend is a bitch. i've never met her. rhea reynolds i heard she was nice girl. i just hope l*ndo didn't cheat on her like he did on me

daniel ricciardo what'd i miss?

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, estebanocon and others

rheareynolds saw you bitches say on twitter i was trolling with my last post. i'm not, i am no longer bitchless. some people can't relate.

view all comments

user1 SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED!

user2 MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!

estebanocon i'm telling him you called him a bitch

↳ rheareynolds do it you french fuck, i'll tell him you called him an overactive golden retriever puppy.

↳ estebanocon you wouldn't dare.

↳ rheareynolds try me bitch

user3 REGINA GEORGE HAS FIRED SHOTS!

user4 he may be bitchless but you still think about him

↳ user5 that's not the flex you think it is sweetie.

maxverstappen1 get this shit off my phone. it's gross.

↳ rheareynolds you dad is gross but you don't see me complaining do you?

↳ maxverstappen nice to know you're back to your old self

↳ rheareynolds and better than ever baby!

luisinhaoliveira99 is it me? am i the drama?

↳ rheareynolds no baby, it could never be about you 👩🏼‍❤️‍👩🏻

↳ user6 WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?

user7 OSCAR? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

↳ user8 this just got messy with a capital M

vancityreynolds rhea lobster reynolds, i demand to meet him.

↳ rheareynolds mom (blake) said you could meet him when i was ready.

↳ vancityreynolds and i'm supposed to care because?

↳ rheareynolds hey blakelively your overgrown toddler is back at it again!

↳ blakelively leave the poor girl alone ryan.

maxfretwell i would love to inform you that sushi just let out an unholy screech

↳ rheareynolds must be because he's bitchless, can't relate.

daniel ricciardo oh, so that's what i missed!

↳ user9 not this man being confused on what's going on. me fr.

it's mick isn't it?

how the fuck?

i'm your older brother dumbass. besides, mick's the only blonde esteban hangs out with. that i know of.

you're not as stupid as everyone says you are.

who the fuck is saying i'm stupid?

your mom

WE SHARE THE SAME MOM DUMBASS!

i know, and she says you're stupid.

i still expect to meet him, as your boyfriend.

of course you do.

rhea reynolds added one person

rhea reynolds ryan figured it out.

mick schumacher i told you he wasn't as stupid as you thought he was.

daniel ricciardo YOU'RE DATING MICK? WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?

max verstappen you're supposed to read the group chat dumbass

charles leclerc l*ndo just called carlos to complain.

rhea reynolds good. he deserves to suffer.

mick schumacher she wrote an album about him

rhea reynolds NOT TRUE! THERE'S AT LEAST ONE SONG ABOUT YOU ON THERE! MAYBE MORE!

lily muni he is there another song about me? 🥰

alex albon you two said what can i do was a joke! rhea reynolds lily, babe, that song wasn't about you? lily muni he WHAT? EXCUSE ME? rhea reynolds it was about a hypothetical with this other girl, who's not important. but i told you it was about you because you were so happy? lily muni he don't ever talk to me again. i'm heartbroken. pierre gasly it's giving charles and max.

max verstappen bitchless just called and asked me if i knew who you were dating and how you knew luisa.

rhea reynolds i met her while she was dating n*rris. monaco is not that big.

alex albon tell him she's dating some actor like ross lynch or something

lily muni he how long did it take for you to come up with a blonde actor? alex albon too long

lance stroll tell him it's luisa in a blonde short wig.

charles leclerc that'll shut him up for a while.

rhea reynolds tell him it's taylor swift in a short wig.

daniel ricciardo thank god i don't have to hear his screeches anymore.

rhea reynolds that's one upside to being unemployed. daniel ricciardo i have a job? rhea reynolds but do you though?

¡leclerc-s speaks! i'm indulging in my love for both mick schumacher and renee rapp + blake lively. i was originally going to make the oc a lively but i kinda wanted her name to have same alliteration renee's name has and nothing with an L went well so i chose reynolds instead. anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this!

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #snow angel series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #lando norris x female oc #mick schumacher x female oc

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andvys · 24 days

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter eleven ⭐︎ Yeah, I know it seems surprising when there’s lipstick still on the glass

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! smut, oral (male receiving), mentions of the upside down, jealousy, mentions of unrequited feelings

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Your jealousy gets the best of you, and you show Steve a side he hasn't seen before.

Word count: 9.2k

Author's note: I know you're sick of me tagging you but shoutout to you for always helping ♡ @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

“It has to be perfect!” Lucas says from the passenger seat of your car, clapping his hands together as he glances at you with an excited smile on his face.

“It will be, you got all her favorite snacks, that alone will make her happy,” you chuckle as you keep your eyes on the road.

“You think?” Lucas asks, sounding nervous.

“I know it,” you assure him, nodding at him, “besides, why are you so nervous? You’ve been together for how long? Over a year?”

“Well, she broke up with me for a while, remember?” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t count in my opinion, she went through a rough patch and you were always there for her, you were still… kind of together… in your hearts. She was just… hiding her true feelings and needed to be alone, she still loved you, it was a different kind of break up.”

He nods at your words, smiling to himself as he looks down, “yeah,” he whispers before he turns back to you, curiosity flashing in his eyes.

“Have you ever loved someone? I-I mean like, like I love Max?”

Your eyes soften behind your sunglasses.

The love between them is so pure, so young, yet so very real.

You get lost in your thoughts for a moment, his question repeating itself in your mind. You think about yourself at fifteen, at sixteen, at seventeen and eighteen. You are nineteen now, and the answer to his question is still the same, it will always be the same.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He asks but not with judgment in his voice, only with pure curiosity.

You shake your head, glancing at him before you pull up into the parking lot at Family Video, next to Steve’s BMW.

Your chest flutters at the sight of his car – the car that was in your driveway all night.

The thing between you and Steve is still new, still fragile but… constant.

After you gave in and stopped the radio silence that was driving you crazy, you started seeing each other frequently – five days out of the week. You were going behind everyone’s backs, sneaking around while you kept pretending to not like each other in front of your friends. You were still Blondie and Lego Head in front of them, but behind closed doors you were both someone else.

You are not what you wish you could be, but that doesn’t matter when Steve is inches deep inside of you and you feel his lips on your skin and his hands on your body, you get to pretend while you’re in moments of bliss. And when it’s over, you get to pretend that the marks on your skin are there because he wishes you were his, even when it’s nothing but a lie.

Steve can’t keep his hands off you, he can’t stop touching you, he can’t stop kissing you, he can’t stop fucking you – something keeps pulling him back to you, something makes you irresistible to him. You know it’s only that, the sex, the lust, the secrets, nothing more. He doesn’t feel the way you do, not in the slightest, but in some way, he feels something, and that gives you peace… for now.

You keep pushing your feelings aside, not wanting to give in, not wanting them to get in the way.

“Yeah,” you mumble, leaning back in your seat after parking your car, “I’m not good with feelings.”

“Huh,” he nods, furrowing his eyebrows, “that’s funny, reminds me of a certain someone.”

You tilt your head at him as you take your sunglasses off and put them in your cup holder.

“Yeah? Who’s that?”

“Well, she’s got red hair, wears pigtails a lot and can be super mean.”

A chuckle falls from your lips.

“You’re basically the older version of Max,” he grins, “you’re both stubborn and act all cold even though you’re the biggest softies at heart.”

You roll your eyes playfully, shaking your head at him.

“All you need is your basketball star boyfriend,” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you as his eyes flicker back and forth between you and Family Video.

You scoff at him, waving him off as you hide your flustered face by turning away from him and getting out of the car.

“Steve is single, you know?” He says as he gets out of the car, shutting the door and walking around it to get to you.

“Mhmm.”

And you’re glad that he is.

You place your hand on his shoulder, giving him a pointed look, “why don’t we focus on your date night with Max, King Lucas?” You ask as you start walking towards Family Video, “and we focus less on mine or Lego Head’s dating life.”

He chuckles at both nicknames, he follows you to the store, rushing towards the door, he grabs the handle and opens it before you can, bowing his head with a playful smile on his face as he gestures to you to walk in first.

“Dork,” you chuckle.

You step into the store with a smile on your face and excitement rising up in you, knowing that he is here. Your eyes instantly catch him standing behind the counter with his arms crossed, biceps on full display as he wears a black shirt beneath the green vest, his hair slicked back a little, probably from running his fingers through it all morning. A smirk tugs at his lips, and normally, it would drive you crazy and make your skin prickle, but not now.

Definitely not now.

Because the smirk, the look in his eyes that he always looks at you with, isn’t directed at you, no, it’s directed at her.

The girl you only recently found out about, the girl you hoped was long gone and away from Hawkins.

Jennifer Mitchell stands in front of Steve in all her glory, clad in a short sundress, her boobs are nearly on full display, her dark waves falling down her tanned back as she twirls the front strand around her finger, she glances back at you when the bell above the door goes off, her plump lips are the first thing you look at – god, you can’t even lie to yourself and think that she isn't gorgeous, because she is, you’re not blind.

She’s got a pretty face, curves that make her look like a goddess. She’s perfect.

A few months back, you would have swallowed down the jealousy inside of you, and you’d walk away, because there would be no point in dwelling on those thoughts in your head.

But now you have him.

And so far, you haven’t seen him flirting with other girls in front of you, you haven’t felt the need to worry about him hooking up with anyone else, even when it was there in the back of your mind, you ignored it and pretended that you were the only one.

But you aren’t, you aren’t the only one, you aren’t the special one, you aren’t enough for him.

The bitterness on your tongue is strong, just like the burning in your chest, the red and ugly flames that become brighter and brighter the longer you look between them.

The way he stands before her, so confident and cocky, the way he talks to her, the way he is so close, the way his lips are curled into a smirk.

You could throw up.

His eyes meet yours, and you instantly look away with an eye roll and a sigh, making your way into the horror movie section without bothering to greet him.

What you failed to notice was how bored he looked until he saw you, and how his eyes lit up when he took in the sight of you, the way his plastered smirk turned into a soft smile.

“Hey Steve,” Lucas greets him, waving his hand at him as he follows you.

“Hey guys,” Steve greets you both, even though you have already walked past him and turned your back to him. His shoulders slump a little, but you’re long gone to see.

Robin is stacking up tapes, humming along to the song that plays on the radio, standing with her back turned to you, she doesn’t notice you or Lucas, until the latter taps her on the shoulder, startling her a bit.

She turns around, some horror movie tape in her hand, her features relax when she sees the two of you.

“Oh, hey guys! What’s up?” She grins.

“Lucas is looking for a movie, for his date night with Max,” you say, smiling at the boy beside you.

“Aw!” Robin pouts, tilting her head as she looks at him with an adoring smile on her lips, “you two are just the cutest.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the smile that appears on his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you both off, taking a step back, “I will just… look around for the perfect movie or go bother Steve while you girls chit chat,” he mumbles before he leaves the aisle again.

Robin frowns at him, “why don’t you chit chat with us? We wanna know more about your date!”

“She can tell you all about it!” Lucas points at you, blushing already.

She chuckles at the flustered look on his face, watching as he inches away from the two of you, her eyes fall on Steve, who is still talking to Jennifer, who is now leaning over the counter, a pen in her hand and a note in front of her, she’s writing down her number, no doubt. She straightens back up, giving Steve a flirty smile – yeah, she definitely wrote down her number. She hands him the note before she turns around and makes her way out, looking over her shoulder one more time to wave at him.

You clear your throat, looking around at the tapes in front of you, “so… they’re having a movie night. We went to Big Buy’s first, he got a bunch of her favorite snacks, and then we stopped at the record store, he bought her a new album – oh, but he’s also been talking about making her a mixtape, which I think is super cute!” You ramble, not noticing that Robin’s eyes are elsewhere.

She raises her eyebrows, craning her neck a little.

Steve turns around with the note in his hand, he doesn’t even open it, he doesn’t even look twice at it, he just throws it in the trash and turns back around, running his fingers through his hair, for the millionth time today. He reaches for his magazine and continues flipping through it like nothing happened.

Robin’s jaw nearly drops at his action.

When has he ever done anything like this?

“And I thought maybe she will like a horror movie, so that Lucas can wrap his arm around her…” Your voice falters a little when you notice that she isn’t even listening. “Robs?” You mumble, waving your hand in front of her hypnotized face. You turn around and follow her gaze. Your eyes land on Steve, who is now alone again – a sight that fills you with… relief.

You turn back around, raising your eyebrows at her.

Robin seems to snap out of her stupor, shaking her head a little before her blue eyes meet yours again.

“Sorry, spaced out.”

“Because of Dingus?” You chuckle, tilting your head, “you’re not turning straight are you?” You joke, earning a slap to your shoulder from the blonde.

She gags at your words, before she starts laughing.

“Okay! So… we are looking for a horror movie for the love birds?” She asks.

You nod.

“Alright,” she smiles, nodding her head as she turns towards the tapes, looking through them with squinted eyes.

And while she is distracted, you can’t help but turn back to Steve to look at him properly, even when you can only see his back, your eyes are filled with longing, and still with jealousy.

Did she leave her number before she left?

Is he gonna take her out on a date now?

Is he gonna see her instead of you now?

Is he gonna replace you with her? – That thought leaves you with nothing but sadness, not the burning red anger that you feel when you think about him hooking up with her. As long as he comes back to you, everything will be okay, you will be okay. But, if he leaves for good, and he replaces you with someone else, the anger won’t be the feeling in control.

With a sigh, you turn away from him and look back at Robin, who reaches for some Zombie apocalypse movie that you have never even heard of before.

Lucas doesn’t seem to mind that she’s the one picking the movies out for him, once he’s got everything he needs, you both make your way over the counter, and you once again have to hide your feelings behind a confident smile as you’re forced to face him again.

“Having a movie night?” Steve asks as he grabs the tapes, taking a look at them.

His voice alone makes your stomach flutter.

“Yeah, my parents are having a date night, they won’t be home until past midnight, so… I’m having a date night with Max,” Lucas grins and places his hands on the counter.

“So you purposely picked the horror movies so you can wrap your arm around her, huh?” Steve smirks at him, before his eyes move to yours and he winks at you when Lucas looks down.

One look from him, one smile, one tiny little action and all your worries are out the window for a second. All you see is him, all you feel in your chest is the pounding of your heart that he causes every single time, he leaves goosebumps on your skin, he leaves you aching and wanting for more.

Every time you’re with him, every time he smiles at you, nothing around you no longer exists, none of your bad thoughts, none of the girls he had been with, not even the one that just stood here in your place, the one that caused you a sliver of panic.

You’re truly and utterly ruined.

Steve turns you into a lovesick puppy, you wear the pink sunglasses when you’re with him, no longer able to think straight – you are blind and unaware of absolutely everything. And it should scare you, it really should, but you don’t care, not right now, you might not ever.

Steve could do anything to you, and you’d still look at him the same.

“That was her and Robin’s idea,” Lucas murmurs, nudging your shoulder.

“Oh?” Steve raises his eyebrows, smirking at you, “well, Robin must be the expert.”

“Not me?” You ask, tilting your head at him.

“Nah,” he shakes his head as he looks down, ringing up the tapes, “you’re the type of girl that wants to be protected during horror movies.”

A laugh falls from your lips, “right.”

Lucas looks between the two of you, eyes flashing with mischief, “well, Steve, you seem like the guy to protect the girl during horror movies,” he wiggles his brows, “so, I’d say you’re the perfect match for each other.”

You expect Steve to say something slightly mean, to keep the cover up, but instead, he looks back at Lucas before his hazel eyes lock with you, and an even bigger smirk tugs at his lips, as his eyes move up and down your body teasingly.

“Yeah? I guess Blondie and I should have a little movie night then huh?”

Lucas snorts, not taking Steve’s words seriously, knowing that this would be way too easy.

But you know what Steve means by that.

“Mhmm, sure,” you nod, tilting your head at the handsome brunette.

Lucas looks between the two of you, rolling his eyes, “you guys can stop playing, I know you won’t actually do that,” he mumbles, taking your words as a joke.

He pulls out his wallet, and pays for the movies, taking the receipt as well after Steve places it on the counter.

“Maybe I’ll convince you two to spend some time alone someday though,” he grins at the both of you, not noticing the way Steve looks at you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, stepping away from the counter, “come on, buddy.”

You raise your eyebrows at Steve as you bring your hand up to your neck, where he had left a new hickey.

His eyes flash with lust and he bites his lip as he nods at you.

Excitement rushes through your body, despite what you had walked into just minutes ago, you can’t wait to see him tonight.

You flash him a smile before you leave.

Completely unaware of the storm it causes inside of him.

His eyes stay on you, even when you’re out of the store and inching closer and closer to your car. He tilts his head a little, so he can see more of you through the glass door, he watches the way your skirt bounces a little, he feels like a perv when he wonders about your panties, what color they are, if they’re lacy or not, but he can’t help it, especially when he thinks about your previous night together – how you looked beneath him, how pretty your face looked when it contorted into pleasure, how his name fell from your lips so beautifully, how your hands felt on his skin, how you clung to him as he thrusted in and out of your tight pussy.

Steve licks his lips, gripping the edges of the counter, watching as you get into your car.

His mouth waters as he thinks about devouring you, tasting you on his tongue and making you scream out in pleasure, again and again, until you’re nothing but a whimpering, shaking mess beneath his hands.

He looks at the watch around his wrist, nearly groaning in annoyance, three more hours to go.

“Hey,” Robin walks up to him, “what are you doing tonight?” She asks as she leans against the counter next to him.

He takes a look at her, finding her staring at him in pure curiosity, eyebrows pulled together as her eyes stare at him expectedly.

Fuck.

“Uh…” He murmurs, scratching the back of his neck, he tilts his head down, eyes falling on the trash can and the note he threw away. “I’m meeting… Jennifer.” He smiles, hoping that she will believe him, hoping that she will remember the time he talked about the girl a few months back.

“Oh?” Robin nudges her chin up a little, crossing her arms over her chest.

Steve nods, smiling as heat rushes up to his cheeks.

“A-And you?” He asks, hoping that she won’t ask any questions.

“Oh, nothing, maybe I’m just gonna go bother Eddie,” she shrugs, still staring at him and at the way his cheeks burn red.

Steve avoids her eyes, and that is something he only does when he is hiding something – usually it’s nothing serious, nothing big. But this is different.

He is hiding something else from her.

She knows it, she is sure of it.

He stopped looking at Nancy, he stopped talking about Heidi and Linda, he threw away a note of one of the hottest girls of Hawkins.

“Sounds great,” he mumbles, bringing his hand up to her hair, he ruffles it, chuckling at the annoyed groan that falls from her lips.

“I’ll be right back, Robs.”

He walks away from her and disappears into the hallway.

And she waits, she waits until she hears the door to the break room closing. She listens closely, biting her lip as she already looks down into the trash can, eying the note as her fingers itch for it.

The moment the door shuts, she quickly bends down, digging her hand into the trash that is luckily only filled with papers and wrappers, she reaches for the folded note and straightens back up, turning around after taking another look into the hallway, she leans her elbows on the counter, and unfolds the note.

Sure enough, Jennifer’s number is written on the white paper, under her name that is decorated with a heart on the side.

She raises her eyebrows, her lips part in surprise as she stares at it for a long time, unable to make sense of why he would do this.

Not only was she surprised to see him rejecting a girl a few days back, now he has also done… this.

Maybe… just maybe, he is sick of dates that lead to nothing and sex that has no meaning. After all, he did complain about his dislike of meaningless relationships that only consist of sex. It was fun for a while, but he got sick of it, he wanted something different, something real.

So maybe, that is why he keeps rejecting those girls and throwing away notes.

When he comes back a few minutes later, Robin acts innocent but she keeps a close eye on him, taking in the sight of his glowing eyes, the smile that keeps appearing on his lips whenever he gets lost in his thoughts, the blush that sometimes rises to his cheeks – If only she knew the reason behind it.

If only she knew that Steve wasn’t thinking about his upcoming ‘date’ with Jennifer.

If only she knew that he wasn’t rushing home after his shift because of her.

If only she knew what he was really going to be doing tonight.

If only she knew that it would be your door he would knock at.

“Missed me?” You smirk at him after you open the door, leaning against it, you don’t let him in just yet, turning your head to look at the clock in your hallway, “you’re here earlier than usual, someone’s eager to get his dick wet, huh?”

Steve huffs, lips tugging into a smile as he looks away for a moment.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been waiting for me,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you, he puts his hand on your waist and pushes you to step back so he can walk into your house, he closes the door behind him, ready to grab your face and pull you into a deep kiss, but you seem to be having different ideas, you take another step back, letting his hand fall to his side as you turn around and make your way down the hallway instead of upstairs into your bedroom.

He furrows his eyebrows as he watches you disappear into the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink?” You call out to him.

“Uh… yeah, sure.”

Usually, you save that for later, but not today.

Steve scratches the back of his neck, looking around the empty hallway, he throws his keys on the counter and makes his way into the kitchen, almost startled by the way you push the cold beer in his hand, your fingers grazing his for a split second before you pull your hand away again, and grab another beer for yourself.

You pop the can and take a sip, eyes staring into his now.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he takes in the look of your darkened eyes, the lust that is clearly there, but there is something else tonight as well, he can’t pinpoint what it is, maybe because it’s a look he had never seen in your eyes until now.

He licks his lips as he eyes the top you’re wearing, low cut and stopping just below your belly button, showing off your cleavage and your soft skin. You replaced your skirt with shorts that are even shorter than what you wore before, but they look much more comfortable, soft and perfect to… sleep in. He can’t wait to rip them off of you and dive his face into your pussy.

He mimics your action, popping open his own can.

“So…” You start, piquing his interest.

He knew there was something, a reason as to why you didn’t pounce on him the way you usually do, the moment you open the door for him.

You start walking into the living room, and he follows.

“You talked to Jennifer today. Having a date, Stevie?” You ask, taking a look over your shoulder.

Something you’ve always been good at, was hiding your true feelings, your jealousy that you have dealt with over the years… but, hiding your jealousy is much more challenging now that you have him in some way. You try your best, you put on a brave, smug face and look at him with a smirk on your lips.

You take a seat on the couch, and he doesn’t hesitate to sit down beside you, eyes glinting with curiosity.

He doesn’t have a date, he doesn’t have one planned, and he’s not looking for one with her either. But you don’t know that, and you don’t have to know that.

There is a sliver of hope in him, that you might ask this question out of jealousy, despite the teasing tone behind your voice, he hopes that it’s that.

“Uh… I don’t know,” he mumbles as he looks down at his beer, he takes a sip, unaware of the glare that is directed at him.

“Aw, why?” You ask, tilting your head at him, “didn’t she fuck like a… goddess?”

When he looks back at you, he finds you staring intensely, the smirk still playing on your lips, though with a hint of tension, your eyes are a little squinted, if he didn’t look so closely, he would’ve missed the fire behind your eyes.

He doesn’t care about how great of a fuck she was, no one is better than you, no one appeals to him the way you do, right now, not that he would ever admit it to your face.

He wants to keep you, he wants you to keep him, he wants you to feel jealous.

“Mmm, can’t remember it that well,” he shrugs, sipping his beer, “so maybe I should refresh my memory a bit.”

You are driven by anger, by jealousy, his words make you see red, it feels as though you are in a haze, you can’t see clearly, you can’t see the look in his eyes, the teasing smirk on his lips, the smugness in his features after saying that to you.

You know he isn’t yours, you know that you’re exclusive, that he can go on dates and fuck as many other girls as he pleases, but you don’t want that.

You want to be the only one.

You want to be his only one.

The fire burns beneath your skin, the gnawing feeling in your chest wanting you to move, to do something, to prove to him that you are the only one that he needs.

You slam your beer on the coffee table, and then you reach for his, quickly placing it next to yours before you turn back to him, scooting closer to him on your knees, you grab onto his shoulders as you straddle him.

His large hands instantly reach for your hips, eyes blazing with lust as his smirk transforms into a lust filled one.

You cup his cheeks and without hesitating to, you smash your lips against his, dragging him into a rough kiss that he reciprocates right away, moaning approvingly as he finally gets what he had been craving all day long.

His fingers dig into your sides as he pulls you closer and closer, until you are flush against him and you are sitting on his dick, the only thing now separating you both are the clothes on your bodies.

You can feel him growing hard beneath you, his dick straining against his jeans and into your center, begging for attention. You slip your tongue into his mouth, and deepen the kiss with a whimper that vibrates against his lips, you taste the beer, the mint gum that he must’ve spit out before he came here. You pick up the pace, kissing him faster, rougher, more desperately.

Your hands leave his face, reaching into his hair instead.

A deep groan leaves his lips at the feeling of your fingers pulling his hair.

You start moving your hips, grinding against him as you keep moving your lips against his, still keeping control – the way you plan to keep all night.

His hands start roaming your body, getting lost beneath your top, he moans when he finds no bra to unclasp. His fingertips graze your smooth skin, moving to your front, he squeezes your waist with both hands, as he tries to buck his hips up to throw you under him, but you don’t budge, not today. You tug at his hair roughly, groaning into the kiss as you grind down harder against him, keeping him in place.

A whimper falls from his lips and he knits his eyebrows together, something deep within him stirs at your action, making him weak beneath you, making him putty in your hands.

You kiss him as though it’s the last thing you will ever do, taking his breath and making it your own as you swallow all his moans, you only pull away when the lack of oxygen gets to you, but you don’t hesitate to tilt his head to the side, and latching your lips onto his neck, sucking and biting his skin the way he usually does to you.

“F-Fuck,” he whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as he grabs your waist even tighter than before, “Blondie.”

His jeans have never felt more uncomfortable than they do right now, dick aching and throbbing as you keep grinding your pussy against it.

He tilts his head further to the side, allowing you more access to his neck, you instantly start peppering kisses along his side and his jaw, switching between sucking and kissing roughly, and Steve basks in the feeling, closing his eyes as he gets lost in the pleasure of your lips blessing him with such intensity.

His heart is pounding in his chest, his stomach swirling with lust as he holds you tightly, wanting to feel you close and closer.

Your hands slip down his stomach, fingers grabbing at his shirt, you pull it over his head swiftly, not wasting more time, you throw it behind you somewhere.

His eyes shoot open, and he looks at you in surprise when you start kissing down his chest instead, nails grazing his shoulder, his collarbones and the hair on his chest before your hands fall lower and lower, skimming his stomach, making him shudder at the feeling. His hands fall to his sides as he stares at you in awe, watching the way your lips trail kisses down his stomach. And then, you fall to your knees in front of him, hands reaching for his belt.

“O-Oh shit,” he blurts out, eyes growing wide, “y-you don’t have to,” he rushes, despite feeling the need to see your pretty lips wrapped around his cock.

“Shut up,” you nearly growl, “you’re gonna sit there and look pretty for me while I suck your dick.”

“O-Okay,” he whimpers, eyes turning black as he watches you.

Who is he to say no to this, to you anyways?

He had been dreaming of this moment.

You unbuckle his belt hastily, popping open the button on his jeans as you start tugging his pants and boxers down. He lifts himself up a little, helping you. His dick springs free, slapping against his stomach, his tip an angry red as pre cum leaks out and rolls down his length already.

You will never not be amazed by how big he is, no matter the times you have seen him or felt him inside of you.

You lick your lips, placing your hands on his thighs as you move closer to him, you look up into his eyes, the shock, the lust and the desperation in them making you feel satisfied. Because this, all of his feelings, the look in his eyes is only reserved for you, right now. No one else. Just you.

You keep eye contact as you spit into your palm before you wrap your hand around his aching cock.

He furrows his eyebrows, biting his lip as he looks at your much smaller hand, and the way you start jerking him off slowly, teasing him.

“Don’t tease me like that,” he growls.

A huff falls from your lips, the fire inside of you, growing bigger, “don’t tell me what to do.”

Steve had never seen this side of you.

You are bratty sometimes, even mean, but you are never like this, you never order him around or tell him what to do – but this only gives him the confirmation that he needs, you are jealous.

And that fuels his own fire.

“Stop teasing and suck my cock, Blondie.”

You glare at him, clenching your jaw and unclenching it a second later when you move closer and closer until your lips are only inches away from him.

“When’s the last time you got your dick sucked, Stevie?” You ask before you stick your tongue out, pressing the tip to the underside of his cock and licking up to his tip.

A needy moan falls from his lips, and he has to restrain himself from throwing his head back.

“Answer the question,” you murmur as you swirl your tongue around his tip, welcoming the salty taste of his pre cum on your tongue.

You want to know if he has been with anyone else since you, you need to know.

He curses under his breath, curling his fists as he moans again when you keep teasing him with your tongue.

“I-I don’t know! I don’t remember!” He nearly whines in desperation, cheeks growing red under the dim lights in your living room.

He truly doesn’t, it’s been long before you, and it wasn’t very memorable either.

He never let you suck his dick, you don’t know why, but every time you tried to kiss down his body, he pulled you back up and threw you under him instead, using his tongue to pleasure you instead of letting you do the same to him – no guy has ever denied head, no one but Steve and it confused you, but you always guessed that he finds more enjoyment in giving, than receiving.

“Hmm, before me?”

“Yeah, fuck… Yeah, before you!”

Good.

You spit down on his dick, letting it roll down his length before you wrap your lips around him and envelop him with wet warmth as you take him down your throat, tearing a gasp out of him.

He almost jumps up, eyes growing wide as you nearly take his full length. No one has ever been able to take all of him. He is aware of his size, of his length, one girl nearly threw up all over him when his tip hit the back of her throat, but you, you are special.

“Mmm,” you moan around him, closing your eyes as you start sucking him off, like you’re doing it for your own pleasure.

His lips part, jaw dropping as he stares down at you.

You start bobbing your head, slowly at first, moans vibrating against him as you get lost in it.

Steve can’t hold back any longer, he brings his hand down to your head, grabbing your hair as he whimpers your name loudly and it only prompts you to move faster.

You hollow your cheeks around him and take him deeper and deeper, until he hits the back of your throat, and you keep sucking him off with no struggle, you breathe through your nose calmly, moans still falling as you pleasure him in ways no one ever has before.

He nearly wants to curse and pull at your hair when he thinks about how many men had the pleasure of feeling this before him. An ugly feeling bubbling in his chest at the thought of it, he had been so good at pushing those thoughts aside ever since he learned more about your past, ever since you revealed more of your secrets to him. He wasn’t very pleased to find out details about your sex life, a weird feeling cursed through his veins every time he found out something new, but he couldn’t hide his curiosity either, wanting to know things himself… so he can make you feel better than they ever could.

But now is not the time to think of such things, he pushes everything aside, every worry, every weird feeling in his chest, and he focuses on you, just you.

“Y-You’re doing so good, B-Blondie…” He gasps, pulling at your hair a little, he watches you, he watches the way tears start to roll down your cheeks as you suck him off eagerly, desperately, and in such a dirty way.

Saliva rolls down your chin, your moans falling and vibrating against his throbbing cock, glassy eyes now looking up into his as you bring one hand up to his length, using your hand where your mouth can’t reach, while you use your other hand to play with his balls gently.

Steve is speechless, he can’t come up with the right words, he is in awe, in absolute bliss as he gets lost in the pleasure that you bless him with.

You both should’ve done this earlier, much much earlier.

His eyes nearly fall shut, but he doesn’t, he can’t look away from you, not even when his own eyes fill with tears from pleasure, turning the vision in front of him blurry.

He adores your big eyes and your swollen lips as he watches how they move back and forth on his aching dick.

He feels the heat in his stomach spreading, moving down to his pelvis, to his thighs. His breathing gets heavier, the more seconds pass, his moans get louder and needier, his heart starts racing. He is so close, so very close, and it feels so good. Not as good as it feels to be inside of you, to feel you around him, to feel you clinging to his body, to feel how tight you get around him, but this is definitely the second best thing he has ever come to feel.

He nearly starts drooling, unable to close his mouth.

His stomach contracts and he digs his fingers further into your hair, he keeps his hips still, not wanting to gag you.

You remove one hand from him, and move it down your own body, slipping it past your shorts and your panties. You moan around him as you push your fingers through your slick folds, teasing your clit before you slip two fingers inside of you, stretching yourself open for his cock.

“Fuck!” He gasps, watching you wide eyed as your moans get louder, “are you touching yourself?”

Another moan from you is the only confirmation he needs, and that, only brings him closer to his high.

You feel him twitching in your mouth, and you would love nothing more than to keep doing this until he cums down your throat, but you pull away from him, almost smirking at the loud whine that leaves his lips when you release him with a pop!

You’re surprised to see tears in his eyes, desperation lingering in them as he stares at you, waiting for more. He is breathing heavily, his lips parted and cheeks glowing. He looks so good like this, so sexy. It takes everything in you not to sink back to your knees and finish what you started.

You rise to your feet, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach at the sight of his disheveled looks.

You quickly take your shorts and your panties off, letting them pool at your feet.

Steve swallows, cursing under his breath as he leans forward to retrieve the condom he stuck in his back pocket earlier. Before he can even rip the foil apart, you snatch it from his hand and straddle him just the way you did before, you bite your lip as you open the foil and pick out the condom.

Steve doesn’t realize just how fast he is breathing, how needy he seems as he grabs your bare hips with his hands, urging you to put the goddamn condom on his throbbing dick.

You scoot closer, licking your lips as you roll the condom over his length, eyes flickering back and forth between his eyes and his lips, a smirk tugging on yours.

Steve can’t help but admire you, staring at your slick and swollen lips, at the tears that pool on your lower lash line, your nipples that poke through your thin top. You’re hot, you’re so fucking hot, he can barely contain himself.

You grab his left shoulder as you use your free hand to tease his cock by slipping it through your folds, making you both moan in pleasure.

“I-I’m gonna… fuck… Blondie!” He warns, glaring into your eyes.

You can’t even help but chuckle, taunting him with a smug smirk on your lips.

He holds your hips tighter, face growing redder, he is ready to flip you over and fuck the brat out of you. He is so close, so goddamn close already, it won’t take much for him to shoot his load into the stupid condom.

You look into his eyes, as you finally give into both yours and his needs, you sink down on his cock, scrunching up your face in pleasure as he splits you open.

“O-Oh,” he groans, gripping your hips so tightly that it’ll definitely bruise your delicate skin, “just like that, ba– good girl.”

You bite your lip so harshly that moments later, you can taste blood, but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything when he is inside of you and his hands hold you so needily.

You take him inch by inch, until his cock is buried deep inside of you and you’re fully seated on top of him.

He is moaning, whimpering beneath you, and you didn’t even get started yet.

You take a moment, a few seconds, to adjust to his size, blinking away the tears that keep building up in your eyes, your mouth waters as the mix of pain and pleasure takes over, you shut your eyes, not seeing him any longer, not seeing the way he’s looking at you, like he is in awe, in utter bliss, like you’re the only thing that matters in this godforsaken world.

His eyes take in the way you throw your head back, the way your lips part in pleasure, the way the strap of your top falls down your arm, exposing more of your chest to him. He licks his lips as he moves closer, kissing your shoulder and up to your neck, trying to distract himself from how good it feels to be balls deep in your pussy that he wishes he could feel around him without the rubber that separates him from feeling you the way he only did once before.

You wrap your arms around him, cupping the back of his neck lightly, as you roll your hips, earning a moan from him.

He instantly pulls away from your neck, stopping the kisses, he needs to see you again, to watch your face contorted in pleasure.

He leans back against the pillows behind him, still holding your hips tightly as he takes a look at you.

Your eyes fall to his neck, you would choke him, that was something you were into before. Before the whole upside down thing happened, before the Demobats choked him, before Jason choked you.

So instead, you grab his hair tightly, knowing that it’ll make him whimper, you pull his neck back, and lean in, licking his skin teasingly before you start kissing him there again and giving the scar around his neck the soft attention it deserves as you roll your hips again, and clench around him.

“Did Jennifer do this to you, Steve?” You murmur against his skin as you press another soft kiss to his scar, “or did she just lay there, making you do all the work?”

He doesn’t know what drives him more crazy, the fact that you’re jealous, the fact that you’re sitting on his cock or the raspiness of your voice as you kiss him like he means something to you.

You roll your hips again and again, making him whine and groan in pleasure, but then, you still on top of him, making him wince as you suck on the side of his neck.

“She totally let you do all the work while she screamed your name to fill your ego, didn’t she?”

He clenches his jaw, growling at you, “Blondie… if you don’t move…”

“If I don’t move, what?” You ask as you pull back to look at him, lips curling into a smirk as you look into his angry eyes, “I can just say no and you wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

He gulps at your words, but he nods, hazel eyes taking on the desperation again.

“S-She didn’t ride me,” he admits.

“I know she doesn’t… Billy told me she sucked at it,” you smirk, not giving him the time to react before you finally start moving. Slamming yourself down on his cock.

“Oh fuck, just like that!” He moans, wrapping his arms around you fully as he pulls you flush against him, “don’t stop!”

Your own moans start falling from your lips, hands clinging to his hair now as you ride him.

His hand gripping your sides and tugging at your top, silently begging for you to take it off – and you grant him his wish, pulling back just enough to rid yourself off the skimpy material, you throw it on the couch, gasping in surprise when he buries his face in your chest.

“S-Steve,” you moan as you start bouncing on his cock.

He massages your boobs, moaning against you as he wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking it.

You let yourself get lost in the pleasure, shutting your eyes.

“Y-You feel so good,” he stutters against you, “you’re driving me fucking crazy.”

“Yeah?” You whimper, grabbing his hair even rougher than before, pulling him back so you can see his face again, his lust filled eyes, his swollen lips, “you drive me crazy too,” you whisper before you slam your lips against his, nudging your nose against his as the kiss starts off roughly. He meant those words physically, while you mean it in a whole other way. More ways than only one.

“Mmm.” He whines as he twitches inside of you.

You know he won’t last much longer, he was ready to bust in your mouth just minutes ago, you’re impressed by the way he is able to hold back for so long.

His hands touch you everywhere, your back, your ass – groping it for a second before he brings it up to your front, tilting his head down, he watches the way you ride him, the way his cock disappears inside of you, a sight that only brings him closer and closer to his orgasm.

The room is filled with moans and whimpers, along with the squelching noises of your pussy, it’s what nears him to the edge he’s been dangerously close to since you wrapped your lips him.

Nothing could be better than this.

Nothing.

Your walls clench around him, and your moans get high pitched now, your lips move lazily against his.

He presses his fingertips against your clit, rubbing circles on your nub.

You respond by grabbing his shoulders tightly and picking up the pace, catching him off guard when you start bouncing harder and faster.

“Holy fuck!” He whimpers as you both break the kiss to look at one another, “I-I’m gonna cum!” He warns, moving his fingers faster on your clit.

You drag your nails down his chest, pressing your palms against his hairy chest as you lean your forehead against his, blinking away the tears of pleasure.

Your breaths mingle together as your noses bump into each other.

“Cum for me, Steve.”

“Cum with me, Blondie,” he demands as he keeps on pleasuring your clit with his calloused fingers.

You press your lips back against his, moaning into the kiss when you let go, and cum around him, as he spills into the condom, groaning loudly as he pulls you close, breathing heavily and whimpering at the feeling of your walls pulsating around him.

You stop moving after a moment, falling against his chest, you break the kiss, sighing in contentment.

Steve is too speechless to speak, still coming down from his high, he breathes heavily as he runs his finger up and down your spine, not knowing that a small action like that, is able to set your heart on fire, making it flutter and race at the same time.

You place your head on his chest, closing your eyes for a moment, and you let yourself get lost in the feeling of him, of the way it feels to be in his arms while he touches you gently, softly, his lips on your shoulders as he kisses you as though you are his, like you are the only one that matters, like you are the only one for him.

When in reality, you’re not.

You’re only this to him, something, someone who keeps him warm.

While he is your everything.

You aren’t the only one, you will never be, and yet, you will always take him back whenever he feels like having your body beneath him, instead of someone else’s, and even though it crushes your heart a little, you will always run into his open arms whenever he wants you.

You open your eyes again, staring into nothing. You only pull away when he stops with the kisses and squeezes your waist, tucking your hair behind your ear as he cups your cheek, pulling you back so he can see your face.

Heat rushes to your cheeks when your eyes meet his again, his dimples show when he smiles at you.

“Well… I discovered something I didn’t know I was into, just now.”

You can’t even help but giggle, pride swelling in your chest.

His eyes light up, he lets his hand move down your side again.

“Ah,” you nod as a smirk reappears on your lips, “that confirms that no one ever rode you before.”

He rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head with a chuckle.

“Don’t get fucking cocky now,” he murmurs as he pinches your ass, making you yelp a little.

“Let’s take this upstairs,” he smirks, “I wanna return the favor.”

And just like that, all your worries are out the window for now, because tonight, you are the only one on his mind, tonight he belongs to you.

Eddie is sitting out on the porch, smoking a cigarette as he looks up at the starry sky.

Wayne has a couple of friends over – Hopper included. He hears their laughter echoing in the backyard, the smell of burning wood lingering in the air from the little bonfire.

Eddie blows out the smoke of his cigarette, returning his attention to the notebook on his lap, he skims over the words he wrote before. He is working on a new song, one that he will hopefully play at The Hideout someday, soon.

The sound of footsteps pull his attention away from his notebook again. He furrows his eyebrows as he looks into his darkened driveway, craning his neck to see better.

For a moment, he thinks it’s you, until he sees the bike next to the lone figure that inches closer and closer and he recognizes the short hair and the red converse.

“Buckley,” Eddie says loudly, a grin pulling at his lips, “to what do I owe you the pleasure?”

“Hey,” she mumbles, a serious look in her features – a rare sight to see.

She drops her bike on the grass before she makes her way up on his porch, plopping down beside him. A loud sigh falls from her lips.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at her, grin slowly falling when he realizes that she’s in a bad mood.

He stubs out his cigarette, knowing that she hates the smell of it.

“Are you okay?” He asks. “Did something happen?”

She shakes her head and turns her body towards him, looking into his eyes.

“Steve is lying to me about something.”

“Oh?”

She nods, eying his face, trying to figure him out, if he knows something.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, “I-I don’t know what it is, but… we usually tell each other everything, so either, it’s something super embarrassing or… something he doesn’t feel ready to talk about.”

Eddie nods.

“He’s been acting weird for a few weeks now, but it’s not just that.”

Her eyes are troubled as she waves her hands around. “Today, Jennifer Mitchell walked into Family Video.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows again, curiosity sparking inside of him at the mention of that name. He remembers the conversation at the bonfire, how he gloated about that girl.

“She flirted with him and left him a note with her number written on it!”

Eddie chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “okay…?”

“Guess what he did!”

He shrugs, shaking his head, “I dunno, he called her?”

“No!” She throws her hands up, “that’s the thing! He didn’t call her! He threw the note away, but he told me that he’s going on a date with her tonight, when clearly, he isn’t!”

“Oh…Oh!”

“Yeah, oh!” Robin nods, her blue eyes shining with confusion. “But it’s not even the first time that he’s done something like this! Five girls left him their numbers on notes, he threw them all away, every single one of them!”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his lips together.

“You know, normally I’d think that maybe… maybe he’s sick of all the dates and the sex but I swear to god, he has new hickeys every few days or so… so he’s definitely being sexually active!”

“Huh,” Eddie nods as something sparks in his mind, “that’s uh… interesting.”

“Yeah, so I was thinking!” She raises her hands up, tugging at her hair for a moment as her eyes widen, “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the only explanation that I have!”

Eddie tilts his head to the side, squinting his eyes, he can see where this is going, what is about to leave her lips.

“And that is?”

She takes a deep breath, blue eyes staring into brown ones as she presses her palms together.

“Steve is gay.”

And Eddie blinks once, twice, three times…maybe sixty times.

“What did you just say…?”

“Think about it!” She nearly yells, “not going out with girls anymore, throwing their phone numbers away, Heidi suddenly being good at sex!?” She scoffs, shaking her head a few times. “Nuh uh. I’m– rejecting girls? Steve!?”

Eddie sits back, and stares into nothing.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, “you think he’s into dick?”

“I’m telling you… I am 90% sure.”

Eddie squints his eyes a little bit.

“What’s the other 10%?”

Amusement flashes in Robin’s eyes as she shrugs, “he’s a stripper in Indianapolis at night.”

Eddie snorts, chuckling as he pinches the bridge of his nose, looking back at the starry sky, he stared at before.

Robin’s explanation makes sense, but he knows what he saw. Steve’s eyes that day in the pool didn’t follow a man’s figure.

They were following his best friend.

♡

A/N: Stripper Steve was Roe's idea, if you're an Eddie girl and you wanna see more of Stripper Steve (and Eddie duh) and you haven't read Do I wanna know go and read it right nowwwww, it's literally one of my fave fics ever

tagging friends and mutuals

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

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #stranger things angst

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