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oliviajdjarin · 5 months

Text

Joel Miller: Stay Down

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: Joel thought he had grown accustomed to fear until he finds you covered in blood.

Excerpt: He swallowed, attempting to choose his words carefully. He had never been good with them, attributing his deficiency to a long line of likewise men before him. His brain poured for sonnets, poetry, prose that he had read in his insignificant time on this planet. Something to impress you, distract you, to take away that crestfallen look in your eye.

He couldn’t do it. He never would be. So, he used his mouth for something else.

Warnings: stitching of a wound, kissing, blood, blood loss, so much yearning, unestablished relationship, probably incorrect gun talk, Joel is scared of feelings.

A/N: This is me coping with the fact that we do not get more last of us in January. Also partially inspired by my favorite song maybe ever.

Pedro Masterlist

All my writing

Joel had found his hands becoming more and more susceptible to the cold as he got older.

They would crack and bleed, flaking dried skin within his decades-old gloves before November had even begun. This not only hurt like hell, but forced him to slow down and think about what he was doing to his body for once in his life. He had a harder time gripping the reins on a horse or fingering the trigger on a shotgun. Noticeably so. And living in a small town with a little brother foaming at the mouth to make old man jokes didn't help matters.

This is what led him to you.

He wouldn't call you a hoarder. Honestly, he would be the first to admit that you were one of the smartest people in Jackson. You had somehow become one of the most materialistically rich people in the town. You consistently managed to find the most randomly useful items on your patrols, things that people before the outbreak would never have even thought to miss.

Things like shoe insoles, ball point pens, Chapstick.

And luckily for him, lotion.

You never charged anyone for taking from what you had. Furthermore, you actively asked people if they needed anything. Even offering to scout around the area in search of specifics. Joel hadn't been around that kind of softness since...

Well, a long time.

This made him uncharacteristically nervous when he first approached your doorstep, but he knocked anyway. He had never in a million years expected to leave that house satisfied in more ways than one.

He blamed it on that stupid crinkle the skin underneath your eyes got whenever you smiled at him. He couldn't help but fall into your light.

This started a... friendship. Of sorts. He would come over when he needed you, and you would happily oblige. As time went on, the visits to yours became more and more frequent, frequent enough that the rest of the town seemed to be catching on. At least, that's what his brother had been hinting at through jabs and side comments.

"You smiled at me the other day, Joel," Tommy had said. "Actually smiled."

Joel responded with a gesture he was hoping Ellie would not pick up anytime soon.

Joel was...happy. Happy with the arrangement. He had a warm body – a fucking gorgeous warm body – to get his energy out with, and the woman inside the body seemingly had no issue with his lack of strings attached.

And yet, for some reason, this annoyed him.

There was some undetectable, bruised part of him that wanted you to…what exactly? Fight him on it? Confess your undying love for him? Pull him back into bed to cuddle?

There had to be either pheromones or crack cocaine in that honeyed floral perfume you always wore. You were beginning to drive him this insane. Unfortunately for him, the place he went when he was beginning to toe that line into insanity was always you.

Joel had checked the schedule posted in the main square, assigning every able-bodied person shifts of patrol. You had a shift earlier in the day, which usually kept you busy until noon. You would then shower, eat, and spend the rest of the afternoon doing whatever the hell you wanted.

Overtime, these mental gymnastics became muscle memory to Joel.

He huffed as he lugged his aching legs up your steps, their typical milk white now coated in an ugly muddy brown. Winter had begun, apparent by the puffs of Joel’s own breaths, and the snow in Jackson was trying desperately to keep up.

Joel balled his hands into fists as he planted both feet onto your porch, blowing into them quickly, before knocking three times. Spaced out enough, but not too much. He envisioned you smiling as you heard his signature knock, but cringed at himself internally, burying the thought instantly.

It fluttered back to the surface when he heard the pads of your footsteps somewhere in the house begin but extinguished itself when they dissipated.

He waited a few more seconds, the rational part of his brain saying that you must be in the middle of something, but the man part of his brain imagining you putting on your silky red robe he loved so much, only for him to take it off you so slowly it made his own fingers shake. He breathed in deep, the laundry detergent from his nylon coat mixed with the beginnings of December filling his nose, and cracked his neck while rocking back and forth on his heels.

His eyebrows came together when he heard another rustle, then nothing.

He knocked again.

Still, nothing,

He knew you were in there – he could hear you, clear as day, and he knew you could hear him – but for some reason, you weren’t coming to the door.

His much too weathered mind began to race, thinking of three possible explanations. One, you heard him knocking, and were ignoring him. Two, you somehow were not hearing him knock on the door. Or three, you for some reason were not able to get to the door.

Meaning, there was a possibility you weren’t alone in there, and not by choice.

“Y/N?” he asked loudly. “Y/N, are you in there?”

Nothing. A bit more rustling, maybe a slight groan, but nothing.

Joel’s fingers began to tingle, and it wasn’t from the cold. He knocked again, harder.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” he said loudly, “just…just tell me you’re okay.”

Silence.

He gripped the doorknob and jiggled it, hard enough for the wood to groan underneath his fingertips, but it was locked from the inside. He huffed, knocking again, his hot breaths now clouding his face. He felt an ache in his wrist.

He said your name one more time, hearing the beginnings of a voice he knew better than he should have muffled by the wood, and the door was flat in front of him before he could think twice.

He stomped his way inside, coating the ground with mud and snow, and his eyes darted around the familiar living room. His vision was tunneled, scrounging for the shape of you on the floor, draped over the couch, held at gunpoint. His heart pulsed in his ears.

You weren’t in the living room.

He stomped into the kitchen, the bathroom, the basement, nothing. All that was left was the bedroom.

There was no way in hell you were still asleep.

He practically sprinted to the room, preparing himself. He had seen what men did to women, the remnants of it anyway, and despite his state of denial, he could never in a million years handle the sight of you that way. In your own bed. In your own house. Likely one of your own friends.

He pulled open the door anyway, and was met with gold.

The room was dim except for the lamps you loved so dearly, spreading their warm, glowing, honeyed light across the room in streaks. He blinked his eyes to adjust, focusing in on your body on the bed. You were facing him, skin painted with similar golden streaks, highlighting the tears culminating under your eyes. You were sat crisscrossed, upper body totally bare, back slouched tightly, your body practically folded in on itself. Your right hand was pressed against your left shoulder blade, while your other was filled with wine-colored rags.

Blood-soaked rags.

His eyes met yours quickly, and despite their dampness, they still had that fucking crinkle.

You chuckled, your shoulders dropping up and down quickly as they always do.

“You know,” you said, voice curdled and tired, “if someone doesn’t answer the door, that’s usually them saying ‘leave me the hell alone.”

You chuckled again, this time finishing it off with a wince.

His hand slid slowly from the doorknob as he took a hesitant step towards you, his body tearing itself in half. One side begging to fold your body into him, bubbling you in a cocoon. The other, itching to tear whatever did this to you apart ligament by ligament.

Your eyes slowly drooped from humor to something like shame, like a kicked dog or a broken child, and he stepped forward again.

“Don’t,” you countered weakly. “Just…just don’t.”

You scooted away from him slightly, refusing to look at him, and applied more pressure to whatever was expelling that much blood from your shoulder. Pain was suddenly present in your face.

“You want me to leave?” he quickly countered.

You said nothing.

He walked to you, removing the hand you had pressed against your wound, and sucked in a quick breath.

“Probably the first time you’ve seen a revolver bullet in about twenty years, huh Joel?” you asked, chuckling once more.

He barely heard you.

You had gotten the bullet out, but it had sunken in deep. The skin around it was red and welting, so swollen that Joel had to guess you had already been working on it for at least an hour. He winced, imagining what kind of pain you were in, and the fact that you were dealing with it all yourself.

He swallowed grimly.

“Hand me that rag,” he said. He could tell how little strength you had left to fight him by how quickly the rag flopped into his hand.

He pressed it to the wound, and you hissed.

“Fuck Joel,” you whined, squeezing the covers of your bed so tightly your knuckles went white. He held his pressure, forcing himself to think straight.

He might as well have been feeling the pain in his own shoulder.

He finally eased his pressure, wiping away as much blood from the area as he could.

“You cleaned it pretty well,” he said softly, voice thick in his throat, so thick it was hard to speak. “But…it’s gonna need a stich or two.”

“Or seven,” you said, grabbing the first aid kit sat in the middle of the bed. You opened the bag with shaking hands, taking out the needle and thread. You attempted to begin threading the needle, but with your hands quaking so fiercely you only produced frustrated grunts and sighs. He moved to the front of the bed, the front of his body facing yours, and took the needle and thread from your hands, setting them to the side. He then held your hands in his, squeezing them slightly, before using one to tilt your chin up at him.

He sighed at the storm in your eyes.

“What happened?”

“Did you kick my fucking door down?”

“What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened.”

He sighed again. “You’ve never once been stupid.”

“Today I was.”

“How?”

“It’s how I always am.” Your voice cracked. “Thought I could pick some apples for Mrs. Lawrence down the street. She always talks about how much she loved that as a kid – a freshly picked apple. Went out too far. Felt a sudden burning in my shoulder and ended up having to take out six hunters all by myself. Six.”

A single tear dripped from your left eye, the gold from the lamps turning it to sunlight.

“I could’ve died. All for a fucking apple.”

You turned away from him again, and it took everything in him not to cup your face in his hands and turn you back to him. He had never seen you like this before. So… raw. Beaten. Trampled. Doused in self-hatred. He hated it.

And yet, he didn’t want to look away. He was slowly realizing that this was the part of you he had been desperate to see. Truth. Undercarriage. Weakness.

Human.

He swallowed, attempting to choose his words carefully. He had never been good with them, attributing his deficiency to a long line of likewise men before him. His brain poured for sonnets, poetry, prose that he had read in his insignificant time on this planet. Something to impress you, distract you, to take away that crestfallen look in your eye.

He couldn’t do it. He never would be. So, he used his mouth for something else.

Slowly, gentler than he ever had in his life, he brought his mouth to your cheekbone. You exhaled a prolonged breath, the heat of it cascading down the left side of his neck. It only prompted him to kiss you more, and more, and more. His lips traveling up into your hairline, across your forehead, down your nose, and finally onto your lips. His kiss there was tongueless, rather a soft press, and yet it meant more to him than any other one you had ever shared.

He could tell by your breathing that you agreed.

He pressed his forehead against yours, swallowing thickly. “I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t know…I don’t know what I would do if you did.”

Your stormy eyes turned into a sunrise, and Joel straightened his aching back to slowly remove his coat and boots. He placed them on the floor beside your bed, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. You watched him just the same, mouth propped open slightly.

He smirked as he set his things down. He then picked up the needle and thread while using his free hand to frame your face.

“I’ll be gentle,” he said, his thumb stroking your chin. “I promise.”

You nodded. “I know you will.”

His lips wanted to meet yours so badly it hurt, but he needed to stitch you. Quickly. For a wound as deep as the one you had, it should have been closed up hours ago.

He wouldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t.

He walked to the edge of the bed and turned you around, leaning you into him slightly to give your pretzeled back some support, and began.

You were surprisingly unreactive when he first inserted the needle, taking it as delicately as he possibly could. It wasn’t until he began to tug the skin together that your body showed signs of pain.

“You’re going too slow,” you mumbled softly after he finished the second stitch. “Please go faster.”

His hands began to shake at your request. He didn’t blame you. Speed would make it hurt worse, but be over with quicker. He squeezed the top of your shoulder in response, threading the needle quickly and stitching over the center of the wound.

You let out a high-pitched whine, gripping onto the comforter at your side, and he couldn’t help but kiss the back of your neck.

He let your breathing steady, then stitched again, this time kissing your shoulder blade.

Another stitch, a kiss across your shoulders.

Another stitch, a kiss down your spine.

Another stitch, a kiss on your lower back.

After every stitch, he planted one. Something in him couldn’t help it.

He made his final stitch and cut the thread quickly, sealing it with a kiss on the side of your face. He tasted a mix of salty tears and heat from your skin. He watched your throat bobble as he moved away, finishing off the wound with a final cleaning. Alcohol and blood filled the air, along with undertones of sweat.

He had a feeling that last aroma came mostly from him.

He threw the needle and thread away into the small garbage can you kept near your bed before turning back to face you. You rested on the balls of your palms, leaning back to look at him as he walked back towards you. There was pain visible behind your eyes, he could see it, but they were coated in something else. Something somehow rawer than before.

“You should rest now,” he said, scruff evident in his voice from lack of use. He cleared it quickly. “You took a hell of a hit.”

You didn’t move. Joel moved to the first aid kit still sitting in the middle of the bed and used the (what had to be decades old) wet wipes on his hands. He tossed those as well, but you still hadn’t moved.

“There somethin’ on my face?”

You cracked a small smile. “Thank you, Joel,” you said quietly.

He hummed. “Don’t mention it.” He then leaned forward and scooped your body into his arms. You involuntarily rested against him, eyes fluttering already, but he set you down beneath your sheets and swiftly pulled them over you.

He laughed at your fight against your own exhaustion, pushing stray hairs away from your forehead. He pulled away from you, beginning to walk out of the room. A fierce grip pulled him backwards.

“Stay,” you mumbled weakly. “Please stay.”

He inhaled deeply. The sweet cocktail of your voice mixed with those words fucking inebriating him, so much so he was surprised he was still standing up straight. He felt physically winded.

He squeezed your hand. “I’ll be right back. Stay down.”

You smiled, loosening your grip, letting your hand fall back into the bed.

Joel walked quietly out of the room but would be the last to admit how he practically sprinted to your kitchen and scoured your cabinets like a man being chased. He found your pain meds, pouring two into his hand, and filling up a small glass of water. He gave a slow, silent jog back to your room.

He felt equally as winded when he caught the view of the setting sun between your windows, glazing over you like a statue in Rome he had once seen on a traveling magazine. The streaks of leftover tears were highlighted in the light, as well as a small crease in your brow.

That is what told him you were not quite yet out cold.

He brought the meds and water to you, tucking your hair behind your ear to alert you of his presence. You opened your eyes and practically inhaled the medicine before laying back down on your side.

Joel removed his shirt in a blink and tucked himself in behind you, ensuring your stitches were not firmly pressed against him, but pressed just enough to ease soreness. You curved into him perfectly, as he did to you. He wrapped his arm around your frame, taking your hands in his and massaging them gently.

You hummed. “Promise you’ll stay?”

He knew your voice like that better than any man in the world.

He pressed a final kiss to your shoulder. “I’m stayin.’”

Tag List: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)

@untitledarea @avengersfan25 @lexloon @daphne-turner @leeeesahhh

#din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x #joel tlou #joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller x f!reader

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coralinnii · 7 months

Text

❋ You said what now? ❋

↳ He accidentally found out your feelings

feat: Ruggie ⭑ Chenya ⭑ Lilia ⭑ Epel

genre: fluff (uhh for the most part), humour,

note: no pronouns used with the reader, no explicit spoilers for book 7 in Lilia’s section, reader is referred as human in Lilia’s section, reader is implied to be a first year in Epel’s section, bad cat-related wording in Chenya’s section

Fun fact: while not obvious in the English translation, if you listen to Chenya’s Japanese voice lines, he likes to say “nya” at the end of his sentences.

Will I keep that fact in mind anytime Chenya pops up? Absolutely.

Also, I just started my college classes again last week (which is why I didn’t post last week). All of my classes are dense with text and quizzes so…I need to study real hard which will most likely eat up my time for writing. Good ol’ inconsistent me~

Although, I’m taking History and we focus a bit on the age of nobility and old kingdoms…so maybe some inspiration for my villain/ess!au series (or maybe not cuz history is weirder than one thinks…)

How it happened

Perhaps a little sneaky, Ruggie is someone reliable, resourceful, and fun to be around. You started to fall for him and even that sneaky side of his became endearing to you.

But bigger, financial priorities occupy the hyena beastman’s mind more than anything else. Unless he can make a madol from it or get a freebie, his interest in anything else is seemingly non-existent. It was rather easy to keep your feelings to yourself when the topic of love rarely, if ever, comes up.

So it came to a surprise to you when the shaggy-haired sophomore mentioned his coworkers at a part-time job he picked up in town.

He started ranting about how a duo at his workplace started an unlikely relationship a few days ago. According to him, the two were from two different worlds and didn’t appear to be either of their types.

“Doesn’t make any sense if you ask me” he mumbled, scratching his fluffy head by the sudden revelation at his job.

You nodded and hummed as he recounted his workday with you, but in all honesty, you didn’t share his confusion over the so-called sudden pairing. By the way Ruggie described the couple, it does sound like their personalities wouldn’t mesh well and would theoretically clash too much for anything to bloom between them.

But attraction follows no simple formula. No one can stop themselves from falling for someone. You yourself were an example.

“Love is never predictable, Ruggie.” you commented without thinking, perhaps too distracted by the cute love story of Ruggie’s coworkers or it could be that you’re drowning in the warm feelings from being so close to your crush that your mouth is running too comfortably on its own. “I mean, I never thought you were my type but I still ended up-“

You shut your mouth before you could finish but looking at the wide-eyed expression on Ruggie’s face, the effort was moot.

“You still ended up?”

…Shoot.

What happens now?

Colour him shocked. Ruggie never entertained the idea that you would like him, out of all people.

He could’ve pretended not to figure it out, or convince himself that it was a misunderstanding. But he knew when he saw your flustered embarrassment and your cute stuttering trying to come up with an excuse, there was no misunderstanding. You like him.

Ruggie has a good amount of ego and he wouldn’t downplay his boyish good looks (odds are it got him out of a few close calls), but in a school of celebrities, royalty, and guys with money coming out the wazoo? He knows when he’s outmatched.

To be honest, his brain froze for a moment at your slip up. He clutched his heart which stuttered out of beat, his ears and tail stood in attention like a meerkat. Jack was worried watching his upperclassman in such a daze while folding laundry, heck it even got Leona raising a brow over the uncharacteristic clocked out look on his shorter dormmate.

But, Ruggie is a workaholic hyena. Always planning his way to work up the ladder to earn some good madol. Even if he likes the idea of making a family of his own, romance wasn’t in his peripheral vision at the moment. Not while he’s working multiple jobs at once. He would honestly feel a little bad because he knows he’ll end up ignoring any poor soul stuck with him.

As bad as it is, he might at first think to pretend he heard nothing about your feelings. He couldn’t bring himself to make you go through that, to be in a relationship where work takes precedence over you.

But then he thought it wouldn’t be so bad…snuggling up to you during one of his rare free time. Maybe you’re the type to surprise him with lunch and he could rest on your lap while you brush his hair. Would you maybe rub his sore muscles after an arduous club training session? Having boyfriend privileges means no one can complain when he slides up to your side, keeping your attention to himself without having to share…

Screw it, he’ll figure something out. He’s a greedy hyena through and through

Shyeheehee! Better be ready for what you’re asking for. Once I’ve set my eyes on something, I’m not lettin’ it get away!

How it happened

This man is a literal magic trick, appearing and disappearing to revel in the shock of his unsuspecting audience. As elusive as he is, the times he does show up brings a shock of joy and excitement to you.

It seems that the purple-haired student has made it a habit to join the Heartslabyul’s unbirthday parties from time to time, enjoying the occasional chaos and keeping you company to your conflicted delight.

You didn’t know why but Chenya made it his mission to fluster you every chance he gets, with cheeky comments and sly touches as he leads you away from incoming mishaps such as a stray splash of paint or a flying slice of cake. You don’t know why but the cat-like menace has taken a shine to teasing you out of the blue. Sometimes he would suddenly whisper nonsensical riddles into your ear, or tap your shoulder to then poke your cheek as you turn. Small silly pranks that should annoy you but your body becomes filled with butterflies when he smiles that charming grin at you.

How maddening, you thought as you fell for another sneaky surprise from the impish beastman. Once again, Chenya appeared right behind you, smiling just over your shoulder which gave you and your friends a fright (for different reasons) to which he took pleasure in, judging from the mischievous grin on his lips.

Your shouting caught the attention of the other Heartslabyul students and recognizing the white jacket and castle emblem, their eyes boiled with competitive rage. An RSA student? On Night Raven territory?!

“Ah, looks like fun time is over. I’ll just show meowself out~” and like a mirage, Chenya’s figure disappeared as the NRC students failed to catch even a strand of his fur. Not even when he took a second longer to fade out just so he could teasingly tickle the tip of your nose with his fluffy striped tail.

The students kept on making a fuss, eager to teach the mischief maker a lesson for trespassing on rival territory. You sighed at the wasteful effort, assuming that Chenya would be smart enough to have left long ago.

“Why must my crush be such a frustrating person?” Angry hollers and Riddle’s commanding cease-and-desist orders overwhelmed your tired voice, and your soft words ended up softly carried off into the wind.

But your words caught the interest of a curious ear before it disappeared.

What happens now?

Curiouser and curiouser. He was not expecting such a confession. Though to be fair, he supposed you didn’t mean for anyone to hear it.

Chenya found joy being in your company. The shock in your bright eyes followed by your cute laugh sends a warm, giddy feeling in his heart that he just could not stop. He had a feeling he knew what these feelings could be but he was content with what he could get in the rare moments he can see you.

But now, when he realized what your cute reactions meant? That sends whole new exciting feelings within him. It’s fuzzy and warm as usual, but now also shocking and thrilling. The sneaky beastman is grinning for more than one reason now.

He won’t immediately confess back. Considering this wonderful predicament where you don’t know he knows of your affections, his playful nature compels him to milk the fun of this situation for all its worth.

If you thought his cheeky antics were bad enough, you haven’t seen his flirty side till now. Playful taps on the shoulders become sneaky grabs by the waist, and just when you think he’s gone, his signature grin would grace your vision as he fades into view, a little too close to your own face. Sometimes when he feels emboldened, Chenya would sweep you off your feet for a spontaneous walk along the sweet breeze.

When you’re finally at your wit’s end, when all his teasing and heart-fluttering gestures fills you to the point of combusting in flustered frustration, that’s when he’ll finally tell you his reciprocated feelings, perhaps while stealing a quick kiss when you least suspect it. All to see that terribly adorable look on your pretty face.

Every adventure requires a first step. I’m excited to see where we’ll go together from meow on~

How it happened

See, you thought he already knew. You swore he did. Why else would he tease you so much with his sweet compliments and flirty jokes? The mysterious senior spoke to you as though you were a naive child crushing on their older peer, which you supposed wasn’t entirely wrong.

The way he treated you with so much care and love that you wondered if he already suspected of your feelings and was being considerate to you. He listens to your rambles as though he has all the time in the world for you, compliments you on your achievements as though he’s genuinely proud of your hard work, and he jokes with you with that boyish charm of his. But the scarlet-eyed fae never pursued further with advances with you, which made you think that perhaps this was just who Lilia was, a strange but friendly man, unwilling to hurt your feelings. Were you grasping at straws and misconstruing his intentions?

With a heavy heart, you tried your best to give up your hopes but maintained a cordial bond with Lilia, not wanting to avoid the jovial fae so suddenly (well, without having to explain why anyways)

But one day, when you were walking with the smiling senior, he started talking about a souvenir shirt that Kalim had given him during their club meeting. It was a shirt patterned erratically with various colours and pictures of tiny bats littered about. It was an eccentric visual of fabric but it strangely fits the equally eccentric man.

“What are your thoughts? Would I not look absolutely adorable in this?” Lilia asked, holding the shirt in front in his uniform with a boyish smile, his fangs peeking out slightly. But you rolled your eyes as you sighed exasperated by this man’s antics.

“Don’t you think that’s unfair for you to ask me?” You looked at him with a pout, somewhat irritated at the mature fae you’re trying to get over. “Of course I’d said you would, considering how much I like you”

For a rare moment, Lilia turned wide-eyed at your words. “Pardon? Do you by chance… harbour feelings for me?”

Turns out, he didn’t know at all

What happens now?

Guess you can still surprise this old man. He had his suspicions but for all he knew that was how the youth were these days. He was fond of your shy expressions whenever he was around and he could hear the quickening of your heartbeat, but he didn’t want to assume. Perhaps you were just more on the skittish side.

In the centuries he lived, he saw love in many forms. In the recent centuries he lived, he got to experience some of those forms of love he’s seen, with the pain and joy that comes with it. To him, it couldn’t ask for more as he lives out the last few centuries he has left.

You however, were still vibrant like a freshly bloomed flower in its prime. Was that why he just couldn’t take his eyes off you? He couldn’t help but watch in admiration as you lived with almost enviable vigour. He felt pulled, entranced to be by your side for even just a moment, just to see that beautiful gleam of life (and love, he realized) in your eyes.

But Lilia felt a beat of guilt in his heart. Your life is so short in comparison to his own. You should be sharing your youth with someone as brilliant as yourself, not pining over an old soul like himself. Humans are fickle creatures but he supposed with such short lives, it’s best to be curious and experience all one can without regrets.

He would be honest with you, sharing his thoughts with you as though warning that your affections were better spent with someone that suited you better. It would be up to you to convince the stubborn fae that he was your choice, that you already decided he suited you just fine. All you’re asking from him is if he shared the same feelings as you did.

“I may have tried to get rid of my feelings before, but I’m choosing not to run away this time,�� in your eyes, Lilia sees that same vibrant gleam that mesmerized him, almost breathing a new sense of life into him. “All I ask is if you feel the same way”

And he does. He’s lying to himself if he hasn't thought of a life with you where he could steal surprise kisses throughout the day, where he could bring you to soar through the night skies as he takes you to explore the world with him. He imagines a life of silliness but also a life of blissful content as he gazes at you like a beacon of light in his life, a new reason to live a bit longer.

Lilia feels ensnared by love once more, but the burning warmth in his soul is just too invigorating. He’s looking forward to this new chapter in his life, with you.

I do hope you’ve prepared yourself, my dear. Eternal love with a fae should not be taken lightly. But rest assured, I look forward to our new adventure

How it happened

You were Epel’s close friend and confidant, someone who he can share his achievements and woes with. Being so new to the college, the two of you depend on each other through thick or thin and along the way, you grew to see the lavender-haired freshman as more than just a companion.

He has a bit of a temper and is quick to the jump at times, but he was always there for you and even though he doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with them at times, he respects his seniors and takes their lessons to heart.

When he talks about how much he dislikes his height or his feminine features, you nodded along for his sake but you couldn’t tell him that you were actually in disagreement. You adore his fluffy locks that you occasionally got to touch with his permission and his light blue eyes felt like calming waves of the purest lake. Epel constantly swore to you that he’ll have his growth spurt and will even tower Leona in height, but you like how you could hold him close to you without issue.

You love all that he is, even if he’s not too keen on some parts himself

But you kept this all to yourself. You thought Epel had other priorities on his mind and you were scared that confessing would ruin the friendship you’d built with him. For now, you were content to be by his side for however long you can.

You were dead tired during a particularly harsh Flying class with Coach Vargas and you were barely conscious enough to keep your eyes open. It took everything you had to just nod along to whatever Epel was saying, something about some Savanaclaw students?

“Who they think they are, callin’ me cute like that? I outta rip off their yapper for underestimatin’ me.” You weren’t helping his point when you thought how cute his accent was as he grumbled about his day. You were falling in and out of consciousness but thought you should at least reply back to your friend…anything at all…

“I’m sorry…that happened…even though…I think…you’re really cute…”

You were already out cold to notice your friend frozen in place as you finished your drowsy comment, your head landing on his stiff shoulders.

What happens now?

ALDFIUAHLBWAIGLH

Congratulations, you broke your friend and you don’t even remember it. When you woke up, you couldn’t figure out why Epel was as bright red as his hometown’s apples. Epel couldn’t even bring it up without getting too tongue-tied, his accent sputtering out incomprehensible words.

The blue-eyed freshman was raking his brain for an explanation. You thought he was cute…really cute to be precise, but what does that mean? Did you like him? As in like-like him? Is it normal for non-countryside folk to just say something like that? But most students around here tend to mean it like an insult but you weren’t like them, you would never do that to him. So what did you mean by it??

Left without a choice, Epel thought about who he could ask about this, maybe one of his seniors. But he immediately reconsidered when he realized who his seniors were (Vil and Rook will never let this go and there’s no way Leona would entertain this conversation) and turned to the only adult he can trust, his meemaw.

In his letter, he asked his grandma what it means when someone you cherish calls you cute (not mentioning who) and after a few days of fidgeting and awkward encounters with very confused you, he finally got an answer from her.

“STOP SITTIN’ ON YOUR KEISTER TWIDDLIN’ ‘ER THUMBS! GO AND ASK, DAGNABBIT!”

And that’s how you were confronted by a flustered Epel about your cute comment one random school day. To be fair, you probably didn’t fare any better when you realized you let your thoughts slip out.

You may have confessed your attraction to him but Epel can still be the first to make the first move. Relationships and dating are all new to the petite freshman and honestly he felt a little weak in the knees, all the nerves wracking his body like his first broom ride. But the past few days, he couldn’t stop thinking about being with you, sweeping you off your feet, impressing you the only way he can, to have your eyes solely on him like he does when you’re around. Heck, he thought what it’d be like to grow old with you, holding you like no one else can as you spend day and night by each other’s side. All these thoughts and more is what spur him to take the next step.

I ain’t too great on love and romance, but I’ll work hard to show ya how much ya mean to me. I promise that!

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drewstarkeyyslut · 28 days

Text

POLAROID GIRL📷 ᡣ𐭩

Summary: rafe wishes to take polaroid pictures of you after sex and he always gets what he wants ✨

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut (p in v), oral sex (throat fucking), choking kink, daddy kink, use of slut/whore, reader gets slapped on the cheek.

A/N: don’t mind me as i will be posting my fics from my old blog on here all over again throughout the week or so since i can’t just reblog them bc they are completely gone from there… starting off w/ my most popular fic🥺

You and Rafe had been making out, your tongues clashing and clothes being thrown on the floor. You were left with only Rafe’s favorite lingerie set on.

“Wait. I just had an idea.” Rafe beams, looking you up and down.

“What is it Rafe?” you shift nervously beneath him, not knowing what was going on in that head of his. It literally could be anything with him and that made you nervous.

“Just thinkin’ for a while actually but uh, how about I take some polaroids of you after I fuck you senseless…yeah?” Rafe implored with a devlish smile.

You weren’t exactly comfortable with taking photos completely nude. Shit, not even with the lingerie on either. Not that you were prude or anything but you’ve never sent nudes in your life to any man, ever. You look at him, dumbfounded as if you weren’t sure you heard him correctly.

“Come on baby. It’ll be fun, you know you can trust me” Rafe insists giving you that look you couldn’t resist. He basically jumps off the bed before you could answer him and walks towards the dresser to grab your polaroid and sets it on the nightstand.

At this point you roll with and decide to be spontaneous in the moment. You did trust him with your life. He barely let anyone look at you fully clothed so he sure as hell wouldn’t let a soul get their hands on polaroids of you completely naked and fucked out.

“Hmm actually…you know what babe? Yeah, fuck it” you bat your lashes and shoot him a wink.

“Yeah?” Rafe automatically reaches for the polaroid.

“Want some shots of you in that lingerie too” he winks.

You get on all fours as you arch your back towards Rafe as he snaps a photo, getting a good shot of your plump ass.

“God damn. You are the sexiest girl ever, y’know that? I’m lucky as fuck” Rafe stated, giving a slap to your ass.

“Ohhh stop it Rafe! I’m the lucky one here. Have you seen yourself?” You chime in.

“Yeah, yeah whatever you say just take the damn compliment princess and keep posing f’me” Rafe rolls his eyes.

He proceeds to take multiple shots as you pose for him until his dick starts growing painfully hard in his boxers. You notice this as you keep eyeing his bulge. He pulls his boxers off, cock springing free and slapping his stomach with a string of precum dripping off the tip.

“Fuck, baby. Look what you do to me” he moans.

“Soooo big Rafe, n-need your cock right now” you whimper, drooling at the sight of his hard cock.

Rafe hovers over you, arms caging you in.

“Yeah? I want to watch you fall apart” Rafe whispers in your ear.

“Well fuck me like you mean it then daddy” you smirk.

“Take this shit off now.” he demands, eyes darting to the lingerie on your body.

“Yes Ra—“ he doesn’t even let you finish.

“Nah, you’re going to regret that sweetheart.. you know what I want, y’know what to call me.” Rafe’s eyes darken.

“Sorry d-daddy I-I didn’t mean to” you stutter, quickly throwing your pamties off and unhooking your bra throwing it on the ground.

“There you go. That’s my good girl” Rafe takes a good look at your bare figure as he slips two fingers in your pussy.

“Mmm, all wet and needy f’me already huh? Do I really have that much of an effect on you?” Rafe teases, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them into his mouth devouring your slickness.

Rafe offers no warning as he lines up to your entrance shoving his cock so deep into you making you scream. You shift beneath him completely caught off guard at the feeling of his cock stretching you out to the hilt. He grabs your wrists and pins your arms above your head.

“Ah ah, stop squirming ‘round slut. You can take it, I know you can. Take this cock like the whore that you are” Rafe grits. He continues to thrust, slow and deep into your cunt, making sure to hit your g-spot at just the right angle.

“It’s too much daddy, too big for me, don’t know if I can take—” you cry.

“It’s too much daddy” Rafe laughs, mocking you. He lets go of the grip on your wrists, wrapping one hand around your throat and the other hand grabs your leg throwing it over his shoulder.

This new angle drove him wild, it gave him a whole different feel of your pussy.

“Pussy feels so fuuuuckin’ good, love watching my cock slide in and out of this wet cunt. So tight, and grippin’ me so damn good baby” Rafe grunts.

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, his cock sending you into a state of euphoria.

“Mhmm, pussy is all yours daddy, all yours to fucking ruin and do as you please” you whine, nails digging into his back leaving crescent moons and scratches.

Rafe is pounding into you at a faster pace now, movements getting more rough and sloppy.

He loved watching you cry, moan and scream beneath him. It turned him on even more seeing you in such vulnerable positions taking his dick so well.

“Oh my god, right there! RIGHT THERE Rafe! Feels sooo good, p-please don’t stop! m’gonna cum for you daddy!” you moan as you hit your climax, shaking and squirting all over him.

Rafe pulls away from you. “Shit, look at that, you drenched my cock you slut.”

“Want you to taste yourself. Get up. On your knees now.” he orders.

You do as he says getting on your knees. Rafe settles down in front of you. His length at full attention right in front of your face, exactly right where he wanted it. He grabs the back of your neck pushing you towards him, your lips now brushing the tip of his cock.

“Hey, hey. Look at me baby” he mewls, hand grabbing your chin.

His hands travel towards your throat giving it a good squeeze, the other hand grabbing his length giving it a little tug and without warning he shoves his dick in your mouth. You choke, gasping for air as you try to pull away.

“Stop movin’ take this cock in that pretty little mouth….yes, fuckin’ just like that, tastes real good hmmm?” Rafe teases giving your cheek a firm slap.

He’s holding your head to keep you still as he continues to roughly pound his cock into your throat. You couldn’t help but moan sending vibrations to his dick. You loved when Rafe used your mouth for his own pleasure, sure you couldn’t breathe, and he was brutal but it turned you on.

His thrusts start to get sloppy. He’s sweating, cheeks are flushed and his bangs clinging to his forehead.

“Shiiiit, m’gonna fucking cum. Oh fuck. Here it comes baby. Swallow all of it, you slut, every single drop” Rafe grunts, more profanities spilling from his mouth and moans filling the room.

He gives you no time to breathe as his hips buck and his warm seed shoots deep down your throat.

“Mmmm so so good daddy, always taste s’good” you praise.

Rafe just stares, completely enamored by you. In his eyes, you were absolutely still beautiful after being fucked out and ruined.

“My god, you’re somethin’ else. You pretty little thing. Pose for me baby girl.” Rafe kisses your forehead and gets off the bed.

He grabs his boxers and puts them back on as he grabs the polaroid once more snapping a few photos of you.

You were kneeling with your legs spread apart with your hands placed on the bed in front of you. Your hair is in shambles, makeup running, cheeks red, eyes still teary and drool dribbling off the sides of your mouth. Rafe takes another moment to admire you.

He suddenly grabs his pants off of the floor and pulls out his wallet.

“Babe, what are you doing? Are you going somewhere or something?” you ask curiously, giving Rafe a pouty look.

“No, no princess. Don’t worry. Umm, just… putting this sexy thing in my wallet for keepsake to remind me what I have waiting for me at home.” Rafe responds with a wicked smile.

tagging some moots: @drudyslut @rafesthroatbaby @babygorewhore @oceandriveab @rafescurtainbangz @anqeliclust

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron fic #rafe obx #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron thots #rafe cameron prompt #divider creds: cafekitsune

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officialspec · 1 month

Note

can you pleeeeease post your dm sexuality/gender hcs on here.... 🥺 i don't have a twitter but i wanna know. it's like a pandora's box to me now i'm like scratching at the door. let me in

heres the link 2 the thread (mild spoilers btw) ill post a transcript under the cut for ppl who dont have twitter

first off i think laios relationship to sex is super removed for like 50 reasons without even getting into his actual sexuality

he grew up in a place with very repressed ideas about sex and has a lot of fear about asserting his presence in situations

his special interest takes precedent over any social interactions he has and the level of closeness he feels towards people

he has a hard time figuring out his feelings towards other people both bc hes autistic and bc he has freaky deviantart fetishes that make sex in his mind a very abstract concept <- this one is me projecting mostly

that aside, i feel like gender-wise hes attracted to ppl so infrequently it may as well be entirely case-by-case

the idea of him being gay appeals to me from the 'raised with traditional values he Does Not fit into/hasnt begun to question it yet' perspective, i lauve characters who put a lot of stock into performing a role thats expected of them and fail miserably for unknown (gay) reasons

from his perspective tho i dont think he would ever really label himself anything. hes going to pride parades in the shirt+shorts Ally Fit to clap for his friends

hes also 'cis by indifference' imo... i love tmasc laios hcs it just doesnt mesh w his personal history to me. i do think hes got some kind of therian gender thing going on (not trans or nb but a secret third thing) but i cant see him changing anything abt his appearance/pronouns to accommodate that post-canon. hes just doin his thang

falin is in a similar boat for gender. i LOOVE tfem falin but the village repression thing has been bugging at me so i dont think i subscribe to it anymore (canon purist sorry) BUT if u hold that hc i am clapping and cheering regardless

instead i was propagandised to a while back and i LOVEEE the idea that being fused w a male dragon and the residual traits she has after being revived have given her a type of gender euphoria she didnt realise she was missing. a little boygirl swagger if u will

sexuality-wise i also dont think she would care to label herself, shes a lesbian by virtue of only being interested in One woman and zero other people. without marcille i do think shes still exclusively attracted to women, and i like to imagine she might experiment around a bit during her travels post-canon (pre-relationship). hearing abt it might put marcille on the news though

marcille is very simple That is a transfem lesbian. she cant get pregnant, shes obsessed w being femme and all that combined w her half-tallman struggles to be seen as 'properly feminine' by elf standards reads very transfeminine to Me. also her bookboy crush REEKS of comphet its not subtle

i think a more comfortable marcy might have the space to experiment w being elf butch like her manga boys but thats mainly self indulgence for me. utena could have saved her

senshi is gay his whole thing is abt not being able to perform dwarven masculinity to a proper standard (soft hearted, not as strong or rugged as his peers) which is like gaycoding 101. also hes a bear. homosexuality be damned by boy can work a grill

adding onto this i rly think senshi got some type of euphoria from being an elf in the changeling chapters. he was feeling himself so much i think he was using it as an outlet to have fun being a little fem and fruity without needing to justify it. do u understand

i dont have any particular opinions abt him gender-wise beyond that. his bulge is an essential part of his character design but i also saw a transmasc senshi a couple days ago that made me nod my head thoughtfully so i could go either way

chilchuck is cis and bisexual this is just canon. not even just his old man crush on senshi altho i do think thats very funny but they put his ass on a cover themed like hes in a dating sim with all the men and women in the cast and then slapped it in front of a chapter called "bicorn". i simply cant pass up that kind of overt signaling. its so fucking funny what else is there to say truly

izu to ME is a transmasc aroace lesbian (this one has the least basis in canon i just know it to be true) shes a little genderfluid with it nd uses he/she i think. i like to imagine she consistently uses masculine personal pronouns to refer to herself either way tho (boku, ore)

i think izutsumis gender/sexuality is entirely secondary in priorities to her body dysphoria. she has a lot of learning and acceptance 2 do before that kind of self discovery is on the docket and in my mind eschewing gender on some level is part of that. get sillay

shuro is cishet but at least he feels bad about it. next

kabru is a transmasc bisexual this is also practically text. his whole thing of being treated like a doll by milsiril to put in pretty dresses, plus i think it would be pretty easy for him to stealth in the west since tallmen are seen as inherently more masculine than elves

(i also think changing genders is just more common for elves. theyre androgynous enough that it wouldnt be hard and like who in their right miiiiind would be the same gender for 500 years. dwarves too)

i think he started presenting as male socially in the west but didnt need to consider medical transition until he moved to a more mixed culture where other races might see him as a woman

i dont have to explain the bisexual part. have u seen him

namari is a butch bisexual this is just canon straight up. shes not transmasc but i think the default settings for dwarven women is like 4 years of T regardless. shes a hit at all the local cruising spots despite her renfaire nerdisms i know this

and just bc im thinking abt em kiki and kaka are identical and kiki is tfem :} theyre both attracted to women but kaka is a sub so i forgive him

THATS ALL 4 NOW theres a lot of characters so i cant have thoughts abt all of them at once but i hope this was good. im right about everything forever as per usual

#ask #headcanons #passes out. my Mind #dunmesh

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thecreelhouse · 2 months

Text

crystal clear

Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

WC: 14k (i am so sorry)

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

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

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

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

“Is it weird yet?”

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

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

“Isn’t this kinda weird?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll tell you.”

“Immediately?”

“Immediately. I swear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s none of your business!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“H- hey! Don’t you fucking dare!”

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

“Steve, please, ju- just drop it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

···························

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The last part almost makes you laugh. Almost.

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

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

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

Steve just fucking shrugs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can look, y’know.”

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

Wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Apparently, you think out loud now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for that.

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

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

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

“That’s a compliment, I promise!”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

Two can play that game.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

···························

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

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

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

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

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

“Stevie…”

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

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

“More,” is all you can rasp out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

···························

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

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

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

“So… put new batteries in?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C’mere,” He whines, forcing a pout.

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

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

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

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

You’re just friends.

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

Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

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

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

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

“You’re the worst.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m already touching you.”

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

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

“Okay, so what do you mean?”

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

“I didn’t say— ”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me.”

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

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

What the fuck is he hiding?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In fact, you might like this the most.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

···························

“Why am I taking the backroads again?”

“It’s a… nicer ride. Just trust me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do!”

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

“H- hey!”

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

“This- it’s just— unsafe.”

“Is that your only complaint?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh…”

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

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

···························

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

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

Steve’s kissing someone else right now.

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

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

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

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

Yeah, you had to leave, ASAP.

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

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

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

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

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

Harder to shake than a cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you, Steve.”

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

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

Okay, he deserved that, at the very least.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, god fucking dam—

“….. No?”

“You literally just said you got jealous.”

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

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

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

“Should I just call you a brat instead?”

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

His face falls. “Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

So much for your petty silence.

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

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

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

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

···························

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or so he thought.

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

“Stay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

····································

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

“Fucking christ.”

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

Wait. Why am I here?

You didn’t forget last night, but you can’t come up with a good reason as to why you decided to fall asleep in Steve’s bed instead of your own. Not a justifiable reason in sight after the car ride home.

Blinking a few times as you adjust to the bright light, something on the nightstand catches your eye.

It’s a note, with a water bottle and your cute little pipe with a packed bowl. A smile joins your features as you read the note.

hey, angel. figured you might need these for the rough hangover.

if you still wanna talk when I get home, we can. if not, we can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us. either way, you better stay hydrated today. or else. not sure what the ‘or else’ is yet, but I mean it. drink your damn water.

— steve ♡

While the note, the tiny heart near his name, and kindness behind it made your smile grow, your heart aches at one line.

We can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us.

It’s sincere and considerate, like Steve is, other than last night, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know you fell for him during all of this, so could you even count that against him?

Steve’s more worried about your comfort in all of this than his own; he always does this, he always puts everyone’s needs and feelings first.

Before you can even fully wake up, you’re reaching for the phone on the table, dialing without much thought. It rings twice before a familiar voice answers.

“Family Vi— ”

“Robin! Is Steve there? Can I talk to him?”

“Yeah, hi to you too,” She deadpans.

“Sorry. Hi. Hi Robin. Hello. Please give Steve the phone, pleaaaaaasssseeeeeee— ”

She scoffs, and you can hear the eye roll she makes, “Oh my god, shut up, shut up. I’ll get him.”

“Thank you!” You’re a little too enthusiastic in your reply. It’s quiet for a minute until you hear someone pick up the other end’s receiver.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve’s immediately jumping into worry mode.

“Nothing’s wrong, why would something be wrong?”

“You never call here. Just… surprised me, is all.”

“Oh… well, look, I- I just wanted to say, about the note—” ”

“Was it too much? I’m sorry if I— ”

“Steve, shut up for a minute. Please.” He pushes a soft, quiet laugh through the phone. You can picture him with his arms crossed, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, leaning against the counter. Robin’s probably rolling her eyes. “We can… we can talk tonight. I didn’t want you to go the whole day worried about it.”

It’s silent on his end, other than distant, soft breaths. “You didn’t have to call. N- not that I don’t appreciate it! Just… y’know. I kinda have an idea of what’s coming. And it’s okay. I just want you to be—”

“Steve, I’m grateful you’re always looking out for me and my feelings, but that’s why I called. I want you to feel comfortable too, okay? Whatever works for you, works for me.”

“I— ”

“Steve, get off the phone! You can talk to your girlfriend later!”

Steve lazily covers the mic, but you can still hear him quip back, “She’s not my— whatever. Give me a minute.”

“Thirty seconds!”

“Jesus, what bug crawled up Keith’s ass?” You joke, earning a sigh from Steve.

“Definitely something annoying, like a mosquito.” He snickers back into the phone before clearing his throat. “Um… can we talk in… two hours? I can come back on my bre— ”

You cut him off anxiously. “Yes. Please. Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay, two hours. Yeah. Okay. See ya’ then.” Steve sounds nervous, rushing off the phone before hanging up first.

Two hours. Not that long. You should be fine.

Totally fine.

········································································

It’s been an hour, and you’re ready to move on from chewing your nails nervously, to gnawing your entire arm off.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit much. You’re still nervous as fuck, though. How can you last another hour like this?

You passed up the weed, wanting to be as sober as possible for the conversation, but you hate taking painkillers, so you keep the lights off and throw a pair of sunglasses on; the light is the worst for you with hangovers, but this barely helps.

Even worse, your head’s spinning and the constant stream of thoughts revolving around you and Steve make you dizzy. You stay in his bed, covers pulled up and blinds drawn to keep out the light, with your headphones on to block out any noise outside the apartment. They’re not even plugged into your Walkman, you’re just hoping the barrier of silence helps.

It doesn’t. You hear no sound, but your head is still pounding. Maybe you should’ve smoked after all.

The blankets are yanked back, startling you into a scream. It stops as soon as it starts when you see Steve. He’s chuckling at your reaction, and though you’re relieved to see it’s him and not some monster or masked intruder, your heart’s about to jump out of your chest.

Gently, he pulls the headphones off of you. “Sorry, honey. Uh… why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”

Every time he calls you that, or angel, you feel yourself melt. The hold this man has on you is insane.

“Hangover, lights suck, all that stuff.” You grumble, falling back onto the bed. Steve sits next to you. “I- I thought you said two hours?”

“Yeah… waiting was driving me nuts. So, I, uh, I left for the day.” He rubs the back of his neck, gaze shying away, but not before he notices you’re still wearing his shirt, and not wearing pants.

You’re shocked he pulled that off. “What’d you tell Keith to leave early?!”

“My great aunt’s in the hospital.”

You stifle a laugh, “Steve, didn’t you use that excuse a few months ago?”

His eyes grow wide. “Shit, did I?”

“Oh my god, yeah! You had me call to pretend— whatever,” You crack up, head falling back with a loud laugh. “You gotta keep track of these excuses!” You cradle your own head, wincing from the pain your own loudness brings.

“Hey, you didn’t— ” Steve’s eyes darted to the nightstand, about to tease you for not smoking yet, but you haven't touched the bottle of water either. “Jesus, no wonder your head hurts.”

“I didn’t wanna be high when we talked,” You grumble, about to lay back down, but Steve holds you upward, handing you the water. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You take a sip. “Happy?”

Steve lets you go, running a hand down his face with a sigh. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You’re mid-sip before choking on water, struggling through a cough to ask, “I- I- did you— what did you just say?”

“Uh… good question. You heard that? I said that? Out loud?” Steve rambles a lot, but he’s great at it when nervous. “I think you’re imagining things.”

“Would’ve worked if I was high, but nice try.”

He groans with an eye roll, flopping onto the bed, landing on his back. His hands come up to cover his face, but you pull them back.

“I didn’t want to say it like that.” His admission comes without eye contact as his face burns red. “I wasn’t gonna say it at all, honestly. I kinda figured out this is the end of things anyway.”

“Wait, what? Steve—”

“N- not that it’s a bad thing!” You haven’t let go of his hand, and he’s either completely oblivious or doesn’t want to let go. “I’m— whatever you decide, I’ll respect. We can go back to being friends, or even just… boring roommates, if you want.”

“Okay, but— ”

“And since it’s all out there— not saying this to make you feel guilty, or bad, or anything, but I- I thought these feelings were new, and it turns out I’ve felt this way about you since… probably the first week we lived here.”

Your heart aches, but in the best ways; you need to tell Steve you feel the same.

“Stevie, listen—”

“But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can move out, if that’s easier.”

If only he’d shut the fuck up.

He’s getting himself worked up, and you wish he’d just take a minute to breathe. “Not, like, forcing that either, because if you just wanna be friends still, I- I’d be more than happy… and lucky to have you in my life still. But that’s- it’s— I’m not trying to—”

You’re growing agitated, wishing he’d give himself some grace. “Steve, take a second to— ”

“And I mean what I said last night, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I thought maybe it’d help distract me, but it just hurt you instead… I just fucked everything up—”

“Oh, for the love of— ” You swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, throwing your sunglasses off in the process. Leaning down, tone dripping with adoration, you murmur, “Steve, shut up.”

You kiss him, hoping this pauses the overthinking. He’s stunned, expecting anything but this. The two of you have kissed plenty of times by now, but this one is everything to him.

Finally, Steve kisses back, earning a smile from you against his lips. You cradle his face in your hands as you feel his run along your back, holding you against him as any uncertainty floats away. Breaking the kiss, you don’t pull away, just admit softly against his lips, “I love you, too.”

He sits up, leaning back on his arms with eyes wide in disbelief, “You- are you- you mean it?”

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t suffer through a hangover for just anyone, you know. I wish it didn’t take the whole battery incident— ”

“You mean vibrator incident—”

“Oh, will you shut— it’s all the same! Anyway,” You giggle, a sound Steve adores, one that pulls a smile across his face every time he hears you. “That’s when I realized I had feelings for you. A- and you coming out just to make me feel better about coming out, that really woke me up… and, uh, do not let this get to your big head—”

“My head is not big!”

You narrow your stare, shutting him up. “… When I saw you with someone else, and it made me so jealous, I’ve never felt that with anyone before. I didn’t think it was love until you came looking for my dumb, drunk ass on the street.”

“Someone had to, you were on your way to fucking Canada if you kept walking in that direction.” Steve snickers, but kisses your cheek, softening the blow. You can’t help huffing out a laugh with him; honestly, he had every right to poke fun at your little stunt.

Your voice falls quiet, turns small, “I’m sorry I never said anything earlier, and that I kept pushing that ‘just friends’ bullshit.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better,” Steve tries steering you away from taking the blame, “You’re a way better kisser than they were.”

You snort, “You’re just saying that.” It doesn’t stop your skin from prickling up, or the heat that blooms across your face.

“I’m not, I promise. You weren’t kidding, they literally shoved their tongue down my throat. You running off gave me an excuse to leave, so… thanks.”

You can’t help teasing him, “What are friends for?”

Steve rolls his eyes for the millionth time before sitting up to push you back onto the bed. He climbs on top, and you tug at the ugly Family Video vest he still has on.

“Babe, get this stupid thing off,” You giggle, tugging it down his arms. He pouts.

“What? You’re not into it? I thought it was kinda sexy,” His brows wiggle with his joke, and you throw it onto the floor, glaring at him. “What if I wore that, and nothing else? Just the vest.”

You’re pulling his shirt off, throwing that to the floor, too. “Then I’d definitely kick you out.”

Steve leans down to you, murmuring, “You’d never.” His lips brush against your jaw, kissing along your face to reach your neck.

“You’re right, but— ” Your breath hitches, holding your words back as he continues to kiss down your neck. “—w-we definitely wouldn’t fuck for a long time.”

“Now that’s a threat I take seriously,” His words against your skin vibrate and tickle, sending shivers up your spine. Then, he stops, and sits back up.

“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” You instantly cringe at how pathetic you sound, but Steve doesn’t tease you for it, just kisses your forehead quickly before leaning over you.

“Sit up,” Confused, you listen as he takes all the pillows around you, cushioning and covering the headboard. As he comes back to you, he pushes you back softly. “Okay— ”

Now it clicks. “Oh my god, I’m not gonna hit my head this time, I swear!”

He smirks, “Better safe than sorry.” Stealing your chance to quip back, his lips are back on yours, and it’s the kind of tender kiss where he likes to draw it out, take his time. The kind that only makes you squirm from the start.

“Hey, what’s got you so worked up?” Steve pulls back, resting his hand on your face; he can feel the goosebumps on your face prickle up against his palm. His touch is warm, soothing, and easy to gravitate to; you’re certainly not immune to leaning into his hand whenever he does this.

“Need you, Steve,” You breathe, legs closing underneath him to try and subside the ache between your legs.

“I wish I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that,” He teases, pushing your legs apart, fixated on the damp patch on the fabric between your legs. You whine, rolling your hips against nothing, only showing how needy you are. “‘Cause if I did, I’d have enough to get you a new vibrator.”

You feign offense with a loud gasp, “I thought you said I wouldn’t need it anymore, ‘cause I have you instead.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your panties down. His hands run up your legs, pinning you to the bed as he reaches your hips. It’s not like you were going anywhere to begin with, but the pressure and possessiveness feels… nice.

“You do have me,” The meaning behind his affirmation spreads far beyond sex. “Always.”

You reach for his pants as he leans over you again, “Don’t have you in me yet, though,” You grumble, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. Steve stifles a laugh while you struggle. “Who designed this fuckin’ thing anyway?”

“I thought we were having a sweet moment, but your sailor mouth’s ruining it,” His joke doesn’t make you laugh like he hoped. Instead, you just look frustrated, finally loosening his belt. “Whoa, hey— honey, look at me.”

A sharp exhale escapes your lips while you glance up at Steve, but only for a moment before staring off, “M’sorry.”

“We don’t have to do this, you know that, right?” A finger slips under your chin, gently tilting your face up towards his. Your eyes meet his again, and he gives you the same soft, caring look he gave you a few nights ago. “I’m perfectly content with just hanging out the rest of the day, doing whatever you want.”

“I want to, I really do, I just… ” You try forcing your voice to come out stronger, more certain, but it just cracks as you admit, “I think I’m scared it’ll end so fast.”

Steve thinks back to the first time the two of you kissed, the first time you were fully exposed to him, the first time he went down on you— the first time anyone went down on you, how disappointed you sounded when it was almost over. He remembers telling you it could happen again, that it didn’t have to be a one time thing.

He remembers the way you hit your head against the wall, again, the first time the two of you fucked, and how he told you next time it’d be in a bed, helping you laugh off the clumsiness. You sounded so surprised that you even talked about the possibility of a ‘next time’.

Almost every time after either of you initiated anything sexual, your reaction was always shock and surprise when Steve talked about fucking around again in the future. There were more times where you begged him to not let it end yet, but he thought it was just in the moment.

Steve didn’t realize you meant you didn’t want things between the two of you to end. It wasn’t ever really in the moment. It was a fear you’ve had since the first time he’s touched you, and it’s a fear of Steve’s, too.

“Angel, I’m not going anywhere,” You move up against the pillows as he speaks softly to you, shifting with you to keep you comfortable while staying close. “I can’t speak for you, but on my end, I don’t plan on ending this fast. Or ever… but that- that’s another conversation for another day, okay?”

You nod, slipping your hand into his, “Okay.”

“Point is, this isn’t a one time thing. You really do have me. And when I say always, I mean it.”

There’s no hesitation in your response, “You have me, too, Steve. Always.”

“Let me take care of you,” His hand is cupping your face again, thumb sweeping along your cheek softly. “Get those awful thoughts out of that pretty head of yours. How’s that sound?”

You nod against his palm, hands coming up to hold his forearm as he holds you. “Please, Stevie.” Your eyes fall to his belt before reaching for it. You pull it off, adding it to the pile of his clothes. “That thing is the worst.”

“Won’t wear that one around you anymore, promise,” Steve chuckles as the two of you strip each other from any remaining clothing.

His lips find their way back to your neck, picking up where he left off with the gentle kisses. Your hands wander his body, tracing along the dips and curves of his toned arms. It’s easy to lose yourself in the scattered freckles and moles all over, making up constellations, a galaxy of his own. What brings you back is the breathy moan made from his touch along your folds.

It’s one finger, then two, and you’re arching your back, pressing yourself against him, dizzy from shallow breaths as he finds your sweet spot. His long fingers have no problem reaching where you need him most, not struggling the way you do when you touch yourself.

Steve starts kissing down your body, but you grab him by the shoulders. “You okay?”

“Stay with me,” You gasp as he continues fucking you on his fingers. “I- I don’t— it feels good, but I wanna cum with you instead.”

A blush creeps along Steve’s face as a lazy smile curls up. He makes his way back to you, retracing his kisses with new ones, of course. When he rests his forehead against yours, his hand’s still between your legs.

“Still wanna make y’feel good first,” Steve’s thumb softly swipes over your clit while he continues working his fingers, curling them just right. “You can cum twice, you’ve done it before.”

Your fingers twist through his hair, bringing him towards you as you close the gap, trying to kiss him the way he was kissing you. Your hips roll onto his fingers, feeling your legs shake and your walls constrict around him.

Steve pulls back, admiring the way your face twists in an expression of beautiful agony, so, so close to the edge. He leans down to murmur into your ear, “That’s it, angel, let go for me”. Other praises follow, but you’re just at the point of no return, unable to hear him as you finally reach your high, a strangled moan slipping between your lips with ease.

Aftershocks roll through your body while you pant shallow breaths, vision a little fuzzy from your eyes squeezing shut, and Steve kissing your temple, then your cheek, with more gentle praises, ones you can faintly make out.

You’re barely settled, still in the comedown, but you’re pulling Steve closer, “Fuck, I love you.” He beams, knowing already he’ll never get tired of hearing that from you.

He spreads your legs, but stops to study your expression. Checking on you, he asks, “Are you sure you can handle one more?”

“Uh-huh,” You try to giggle, still breathless as you nod. “As long as it’s with you.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but you know him, he loves the corny little remarks you shoot back and forth. You know him. You know him so well by now, because he’s yours. And you’re his.

“Hey, angel?” He’s admiring your figure, still catching your breath, already blissed out with hooded eyes, and the sweetest smile he’s ever seen on your face. He lines up with your entrance, slowly pushing in while he leans back down to you with a lingering forehead kiss.

“Y- yeah?” You shudder out, adjusting to him all over again. His hand slips into yours, fingers lacing together before he gives a gentle squeeze.

“I love you, too.”

The first night you had together, when Steve offered to help, it wasn’t meant to just be a one and done kind of fling. Maybe it felt like it back then, and maybe even last night, while the two of you fought over your feelings, it felt like it should’ve been an arrangement that ended long ago. But now? Now, everything’s so sure. Everything’s so certain.

With Steve, everything’s crystal clear.

It only takes the first thrust for the two of you to meld together with ease. It’s almost effortless, the way you and Steve can flow into and with one another. You’ve never felt like this with anyone else, never felt so comfortable, so at home within someone’s embrace, never felt such safety to be yourself completely.

At the same time, both you and Steve give each other the same, cheesy line, “feels like you’re made for me.” While neither of your movements stop, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. Steve buries his head into your shoulder, while his shoulders shake along with the noise. Your arms wrap around him, laughing even harder when he realizes he can feel you laugh while deep in you.

“Hey- h- hey wait, waitwaitwait!” He can’t control his laughter, and neither can you. “Every time you do that it— fuck!” He’s trying his hardest to calm down, hoping you can, too. “You gotta stop doing that, I can- you- fuck, you’re so tight.”

You cover your face with your hands, trying to kill your giggles, and slowly it works, leading Steve to calm down, too. With a quick kiss to his chin as he lifts his head, you flip on top, riding him immediately.

Any laughter still at the back of Steve’s throat dies instantly as you grind down onto him. You finally find a steady, slow pace to roll your hips; there’s no rush, there’s no fear it’ll all disappear when the two of you finish. It’s just you and Steve, nothing else, no one else.

No distractions or kinks or secrets, just the two of you, together.

“Honey, m’not gonna last if you k- keep this up,” he breathes, strong hands on your hips, gently guiding you along.

“S’okay, I- I’m close,” You whimper, hand splayed against Steve’s chest. “A- and we can just— ” You sharply gasp, walls constricting around him. “we got all the time in the world, Stevie. You have me, always.” Your head tilts back as pleasure consumes you both, feeling him throb while your legs shake.

Before the two of you reach that sweet high together, you faintly hear Steve respond, “Y’have me, too, angel. Always.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #my fics #crystal clear #*slaps post* this baby can fit SOOOOOOO much angst in it

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hotmencoreplus · 9 months

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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 ‘𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭’ 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲’𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

Pairing: Simon Riley x sister!reader (she/her)

Summary: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, the infamous, relentless and fearless Task Force 141 soldier. And the particulars of him being the guardian of his baby sister.

Warnings: Talks of war and deployment, mentions of a traumatic childhood, language. Attempted to do it chronologically, but have added bits here and there

Word count: 3300+

A/N: Basing this off the theory that he is mid 30’s in mw2.

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this sideblog @hotmencoreplus for the account, @hotmencore

‣ Simon wasn’t at all prepared to be an older brother, but when he saw you, he knew it was his job to protect his little baby sister.

‣ You were the only one who was fortunate enough to not be killed by Washington, so when Simon was made aware of your survival, he took you in as his own.

‣ He doubted himself at first, fearing he would turn out like his dad, but also didn’t want to abandon you like he had been as a child.

‣ He wasn’t experienced in any way shape or form with taking care of a baby, so most of his days when not on deployment consisted of him watching youtube videos and going online to figure out how to do stuff and take care of you properly.

‣ When on deployment, he left you with a trusted neighbour who he had known for years before. (I feel like this would either be like a man who he would call his ‘best friend’ when home, or an old woman who has kids of her own, that use to babysit him)

‣ He would spoil you the best he could, and make you as happy as possible, not wanting you to have a childhood anything remotely like his.

‣ He definitely still gets help off of google for some things. He isn’t really too good with knowledge on ‘girly’ things.

‣ When home, you and him would always sit at the kitchen table of an evening, you playing with barbies whilst he sat across from you modding his rifle. As you got older, it would be the same just you with homework. You didn’t speak much when sat with each other, though it was always a comfortable silence for the both of you.

‣ Once when in primary school, you came home with a pout as you were jealous of your classmates pigtails and plaits, seeing that Simon only really knew how to brush your hair. So that night, he spent an hour watching videos over and over so that he could learn how to plait your hair.

‣ He felt stupid watching the videos, and frustrated that it took him so long to get the hang of it, but he knew it was all worth it when he saw the grin on your face the next morning as you looked at your hair in the mirror to see it all pretty and plaited.

‣ He also felt the same each birthday or christmas when you were little, worried that the little amount that he was able to get you wouldn’t be enough to make you happy. But 100% of the time, it was just him underestimating himself.

‣ When you were young, he never bothered to mention his own birthday. But one year when with your neighbour, you found out his birthday was a couple days after he came back from deployment. So you saved up money for the 2 weeks before he came back, and bought him a little teddy bear and a bar of chocolate. You also made him a little loom band bracelet, and haphazardly wrapped them up and hid them under your bed.

‣ When his birthday did arrive, you came downstairs to him in the living room, holding the parcel out in front of him. He lifted you up onto his lap, taking the parcel from you. “What’s this?” He asked, looking at it as he peeled his fingers from the cellotape of which you’d badly wrapped it with.

‣ “Happy birthday” you say softly with a smile, and that right there made Simon’s heart melt. He unwrapped the gift, and held the bear out in front of him. You looked at him eagerly, though his expression was confusing to you. “I hope you like it” you say with a slight hint of doubt. But Simon smiles at you, yes, smiles, and pulls you closer to him, placing a small kiss on your cheek, “I love it, thank you Y/N” he says, and the grin returns to your face.

‣ Simon had never felt more appreciated by anyone in his life.

‣ He let you off that one morning to share the chocolate with him, after eagerly placing the loom band on his large wrist, showing him that you now had matching ones.

‣ And he wears it everyday, even on deployment, under his uniform.

‣ And he still does to this day, years later.

‣ He also has a tattoo tucked away somewhere that he got for you, most likely your initials.

‣ When he first joined 141, Price was the only one who knew about you, and that Simon was the one who took care of you.

‣ He knew from Ghost’s files, as when he joined the task force, you were at the age where Simon wanted you written down as who was told when he died.

‣ You were at the age where it was harder to just pretend he never existed. Because when you were a baby, that was his plan. Before he joined it was your neighbour that was put down, just as a telling that you would need to be put in someone else's care.

‣ When Ghost requested the change to his file, he asked Price that someone could go over and tell you in person, rather than just a phone call, or his dog tags through the mail. Which caused for him to have to let Price know of your existence.

‣ He also asked for Price to tell Laswell, as he trusted her and wanted someone there for you who was in the UK more than he was, and in case both him and Price were on a mission/ far away.

‣ He also did it as he believed that you needed at least one female figure somewhat a part of your life, though you've only met her like once or twice.

‣ It takes a good amount of time and full trust in a person for Simon to be comfortable with them meeting you, or even just knowing of you. Which is why Johnny found out so randomly.

‣ You were late pre-teens when Simon was coming home from deployment, and got a call from his friend, apologising that he couldn’t pick him up from base. Johnny overheard the conversation and insisted that he dropped Simon off, though he was perfectly fine getting a taxi.

‣ Simon did message you to stay in the house, but you weren’t paying any mind to your phone, just looking out the window waiting for his arrival. Your own excitement blinded you to the fact it wasn’t the car of Simon’s friend dropping him off, so when you saw his skull mask through the car window, you jumped off the couch and ran out the door to him without a second thought. You didn’t hesitate in giving him a massive hug, which, though Johnny hadn’t pulled off yet, Simon reciprocated, as he knew there was no way of exactly hiding you now.

‣ It wasn’t at all that he didn’t trust Johnny enough, Simon just always felt awkward bringing it up and didn’t expect the circumstances of which he was in, so wasn’t prepared at all.

‣ Soap didn’t like to pry, but was curious and immensely shocked to see a young girl run out of his house and jump onto Simon’s huge frame. He knew it couldn’t have been his daughter as Simon would have simply been far too young for that to be true. So he made the conclusion of you being his sister, and tried to keep it to himself.

‣ Though on the next deployment, Johnny did ask about the young girl he saw, and with a grumble of a reply, he then understood that his guesses were correct. By then he trusted Gaz enough as well, so the whole of 141 eventually knew of Simon’s little sister.

‣ Simon keeps a little photograph of you in his uniform, in an inside breast pocket, above his heart. It’s a photo of you when you were little, the first year he put aside his fears, and took you trick-or-treating. You were dressed as a little fairy, grinning up at the camera, your face covering most of the shot as you leant forwards into the frame.

‣ You two don’t have any proper photos with each other, apart from one from when it was your birthday one year, and you told Simon that the only thing you wanted was a photo of the two of you together. So Simon begrudgingly granted your wish after a lot of convincing.

‣ In the photo, you are stood next to each other in the hallway of your home, you grinning with your short arms attempting to wrap around his large waist, and him stood looking emotionless with his simple skull mask on, his arm behind you resting on your back.

‣ It wouldn’t look sentimental at all to anyone else, but you treasured it. It stays on your bedside cabinet, with one of his old dog tags that he let you keep. You also have another old one of his attached to the zip of your school backpack.

‣ Simon never really decorated your room too much when you were younger, as he was new to the whole thing and decided that he would let you do it with him when you were older and found your own passions and interests. So first off for several years your room consisted of a small single bed, a wardrobe, and littles shelves for your toys, all of which he built with you sat on the floor of your room with him one day.

‣ But when you did find yourself and what you liked, you both spent a couple days decorating it. As it was just you and Simon in the house, you weren’t ever very ‘girly’ so the walls were painted a pale blue, and he bought you some new shelves and some fairy lights/ LED’s to hang up around your bed.

‣ When you use to get nightmares or just couldn’t fall asleep, you would sneak into Simon’s room, and wake him up so that you could stay with him. Although due to his own nightmares, was usually awake before you came in anyways. But there was something he secretly found so sweet about hearing your little feet try to quietly pad down the hallway to his room.

‣ He never minded, because he had nightmares all the time. Simon would never admit it, not even to his baby sister, but he enjoyed the nights where he would have her with him. Because in the long run it did actually help him fall asleep, knowing he wasn’t completely on his own.

‣ He had you.

‣ Due to him being away quite a lot, you have been aware of his job since you were little.

‣ Though when you got older, you wanted to know more about it. Simon didn’t really want to tell you much, as he didn't believe it was something he wanted his sister knowing about, but after so much pestering from you, he caved in. You learnt about his callsign, and how he always wore the skull mask.

‣ Once meeting Soap properly, he was the one to tell you about how infamous your brother really was on the field.

‣ You found it pretty cool that you were one of the only people in the entire world who new what the Simon Riley truly looked like, and secretly took pride in it.

‣ You have always known Simon with and without his mask, so it never feels weird. He rarely wore it when you were a toddler, though when you were first born he mostly kept it on, scared his scars were gonna frighten you.

‣ But the first time he took it off in front of you, you babbled and giggled, and reached out to his face. So from then on, he didn’t bother wearing it around you.

‣ There was one occasion when he came to pick you up from a neighbours after almost a year long deployment, and you were shy with him. It hurt Simon a bit, and made him feel guilty for not being there, and that you had grown so much in the time he was away. But the feeling soon melted away once your neighbour gave you a little push from behind their leg, you softening in Simon’s touch as he held you close in his arms.

‣ His teenage years were the most traumatic for him, so when you transitioned into yours, he became even more protective of you. You sometimes fought over this, and Simon felt bad, but you knew that he was doing it because he wanted nothing more than for you to be safe.

‣ When he bought you your first phone, he definitely made you have Life360 or something like it, so that he knows where you are just in case he needs it.

‣ He would never go crazy on where you were and who you were with. He trusted you. But when away, every night before he went to bed himself, or whenever it was late in the UK timezone, he would check that you were at home. It made him relax slightly about being away, knowing that you were safe.

‣ You were about 15 when you were properly introduced to the 141 team, as behind Soap’s teasing and pestering, Simon knew that you needed some other adult figures in your life. So, much to your own surprise, he messaged you asking if you wanted to come get him from base one time with his neighbour.

‣ You knew that Simon wasn’t really much of a physical affection type of guy, but you could never resist when he was coming back home after a deployment. And even less so now that you were able to come to base. But he also knew that much to his dislike for the public display of it, there was nothing he could do to stop you from doing so.

‣ And with that fact in mind, he knew he had to reciprocate the gesture, so when you did run up to him with your arms out, for a second he forgot about that fact the rest of the guys wouldn’t let cold old ‘Ghost’ hear the end of it, and wrapped one arm around you, lifting you up with ease, his bags clutched in his other hand. You practically squealed to him how much you’d missed him, as he mumbled back in your ear that he did you, too. Lucky for him the others didn't hear that.

‣ Once he had put you down, he very much awkwardly introduced you to the others in a grumbly tone.

‣ When you turned to them, the first thing that they all collectively noticed were your eyes.

‣ You had Simon’s eyes.

‣ Johnny’s hello was an enthusiastic “Good to finally meet you lass,” Simon glaring at Soap, aware of the amusement this brought him, knowing his lieutenant was annoyed as hell.

‣ Gaz nodded at you with a smile, and Price said hello in a deep but warm tone, looking on at you with an almost proud gaze.

‣ Price didn’t know what to expect when Soap loudly made everyone aware of Ghost’s new visitor at base pick up, as Johnny was the only one of them who had seen you before to recognise you as Ghost's sister, though they knew you existed (much to their inital surprise). But when you turned to the rest of the team without hesitance, Price instantly felt an even higher level of respect towards Simon as it was clear from your confident and polite hello that he had raised you well.

‣ Much to Simon’s own self doubt.

‣ One night when the 141 were all at a bar, Price quietly told Simon about how he had done well with you, knowing that he was definitely uncertain of his own worth in your life. But Simon heard the sincerity in his Captain’s voice, and with a quick look of appreciation towards John, he then didn’t doubt himself as much as he had before.

‣ Simon sometimes does mess up though with his language around you, only recently now that you have gotten older. But he isn’t too fussed, just as long as he doesn't hear you repeat any of it.

‣ Seeing that it is only you two in the house 24/7, you both surprisingly get on really well, and there have only been a rare few occasions when he has had to put his foot down.

‣ But these rare occasions would mainly consist of something silly to the point that he got sick of your nagging, like when you begged him to have ice cream for breakfast.

‣ “Please Simon, just this once-“

‣ “No, Y/N! You said that last time. Now drop it.”

‣ There have definitely been times where neither of you can sleep, and now that you're older, you both just sit with each other in comfortable silence. Occasionally just putting a random film on in the living room, but most of the time you would just be at the kitchen table, with a bowl of cereal at like 2am. That is until, and this is 98% of the time, you fall asleep with your head on the table and Simon has to carry you to your room.

‣ When you got to the age where Simon was comfortable with you in the house on your own, you once mentioned to him that the first day of him being away was always the hardest, and that it felt really weird in the house.

‣ You both knew he couldn’t do much about that, but he tried little things to make it somewhat bearable.

‣ For instance, he knows one of your favourite things is leftover takeaway from when you two have one, so the night before every deployment, he always orders takeaway for dinner so that there is always some in the fridge for you on the first day of him being gone.

‣ It’s the little things that Simon does for you despite his mostly cold heart that mean the most to you.

‣ On long deployments, you write Simon letters for him to read. You do message him too, but prefer writing them, as you know he will write back, which you feel is more sincere. His letters are never as long or heartfelt as yours, but you know your brother, and that he loves you dearly.

‣ His replies would often be a few sentences, praising you on anything that you would mention about school or just exciting stuff in general, signing off with ‘Simon’, and a barely noticeable ‘x’ next to it.

‣ You keep every single one of the letters he sends back, your favourites being the ones that he would occasionally send to you, first. And secretly Simon does the same, keeping your letters tucked away in his bag under his bed.

‣ He tells you unless its an emergency, that you should stick to letters or texts, so that he can still stay focused with his job and that if you do one day call him, he knows straight away that it’s an urgent matter.

‣ There was one time when you forgot about the emergency rule, and called him to tell him you passed a test you had been stressing about.

‣ He was about to shout down the line asking what was wrong and where you were until you beat him to it with a loud “I PASSED SIMON, I PASSED THE TEST!”

‣ “That’s amazing Y/N, but you just scared the fucking life out of me.”

‣ “Oh crap. I forgot, sorry. But I passed!!!”

‣ "Great love. I'm proud of you. But next time stick it in a letter, yeah?"

#call of duty #modern warfare 2 #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x sister!reader #platonic #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 platonic #soap x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #modern warfare x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

2K notes · View notes

nexysworld · 3 months

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Chapter Summary: You wake up dazed and confused, no memory of anything he was saying. But it's Leon, and you can trust him right? Besides, maybe a vacation is exactly what you needed. Pairing: Yandere!RE4R Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn. Psychological manipulation, abuse of power, etc. no use of y/n. PTSD, flashbacks. There is smut this chapter. WC: 9.5k

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It’d been a long time since you had such a good night's sleep, not even realizing the way you conked out completely on top of Leon. The even sound of his heartbeat in your ear – ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump – lulled you like the world’s best white noise machine. His warmth was comforting in a way no space heater could be. The smell of his fresh and spicy cologne was familiar. The combination was killer and before you knew it, not even the rumbling in your stomach was enough to keep you awake on top of him. It was reminiscent of the nights you’d spent in his apartment all those weeks ago after everything happened. Leon was your comfort, he was your safe space. After speaking with Dr. Birkin, while still not fully having come to terms with things, you were at least able to get rid of the guilt and lean into the man under you – leaving you weightless, at least for the moment.

When you woke, it was due to the feeling of wind on your face, cold air stinging at your nose. The feeling of confinement made you panic, gasping as you clawed around until you realized you were no longer on your couch, but Leon’s jeep.

“You good?” He asked, looking over to you. You were too busy looking around in confusion, panting as you tried to calm down. “Yeah I’m just… I’m confused.” “Confused about what?” He asked, cooly flipping on the blinker, his free hand making its way over to your thigh giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“We were on the couch, and now I’m in the car. What happened?” “That was this morning, don’t you remember?” You shook your head. “No, no I –” “Hey, it’s alright. Don’t worry about it. You’re probably just tired.”

It was dark out, definitely well into the middle of the night if you had to guess. The only lights were the high beams of his jeep and the overhead moon — no familiarity of the city. Just thick trees and empty grass fields every now and then. If Leon hadn’t been with you, heavy hand on your leg, you’d have panicked from sheer lack of awareness. The sound of his voice cleared your head. “I honestly thought you’d have been out longer.” “I don’t understand.” You paused for a moment, fidgeting with the soft knit sleeves of your sweater — you hadn’t remembered changing clothes either. “We fell asleep on my couch after ordering food. I don’t remember anything after that . . . but I don’t get why I was tired again if we slept. Where are we even going? Leon, I’m really confused right now.” “Hey, hey. It’s alright.” He cooed, moving the hand that was resting on your thigh to gently pry your own from its fidgeting, kissing your knuckles gently. “Relax.” “That doesn’t answer—“ “I’m getting to that.” He assured, laying your hand back onto your lap with his on top. Whatever road you were on was long and winding, barely even speed signs posted throughout. “Sometimes people are just tired, it happens. After we woke up we ate the leftover food, you were talking about stress. I said you needed to relax, I suggested we go on a trip, away from it all for a change.” An odd uneasiness washed over you at his words. “I don’t remember any of that.” Flashbacks were coming to you the more you saw the pathway, the drive out to the camping spot with Derek, what came next. ‘That wasn’t real. That wasn’t real.’ You tensed, feeling a wave of nausea hit you. “We’re not going camping right?” “No. No, of course not!” “Where are we going then?” “To an old farmhouse.” He said casually. “It’s actually mine. Was left to me by someone I guess I’d consider my adopted father when he passed away. It’s old, but the land is beautiful, there’s tons of cute critters you can see too. Hey, you alright?” “I don’t know. I guess I’m just held up on the fact that I don’t remember any of this.” “Well you know, gaps in memory are a thing. That’s what the Doctor said, right?” “Yeah I guess, but this just feels so immediate. I mean — my job requires two weeks notice. It just doesn’t sound like me to do something so abrupt.” “I took care of it.” “What?” “Your job, I took care of it for you. You brought that up as your first concern. And then your meeting with Doctor Barkin. I have you covered on both fronts, he can do virtual sessions.” “Oh. Ok.” A thick silence overcame you both as you settled back into the carseat, rubbing at your tired eyes. “What about Mrs. Wilson?” “What about her?” “I was still checking in on her when I could…even after…you know…when my leg was hurt. At least I tried to.” Truthfully it had only been a few times over the course of those weeks that you managed to make it over to the old woman’s apartment. But you did call more often to check-in, ordered groceries and other items she needed. “Don’t worry about that either.” “You sure?” “Yeah. I promise, I have everything taken care of. All you need to do is relax, rest. It’ll be alright.” “Ok.” What else could you say? It felt strange, the whole situation felt strange, but everything always did. There was no point in questioning him further or arguing, so you instead focused on the drive, sitting quietly in your seat.

“We’re almost there.” He added, breaking the tension. “Maybe 30 more minutes at most.”

You nodded in response, returning to leaning against the doorframe watching the scenery pass by. The road had narrowed out into an open field, the pavement replaced by a dirt road that expanded farther out than you could see past the headlights. It felt eerie in an existential way, the expanse of field, being the only two alone on the empty road. It made you feel small and uneasy. True to his word, no more than 30 minutes later, the dirt road narrowed further into a tight path of trees with only enough room for one vehicle to pass. The dark tube of greenery opened up to reveal the house, just as Leon described. An old fashioned farm house — two stories with a gigantic wrap around deck. In the dim light it was hard to make out much more detail than that. “Here we are.”

The inside was nicer than expected — but then given the upgrades Leon had made to his apartment, maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The plush sectional in the living room was huge, followed by a large TV mounted to the wall. Unlike his apartment there was more decor hung to the walls, little knick knacks scattered around. The place looked nice, lived in.

You felt his arm wrap around you from behind, gently corralling you towards the staircase. Opposite of the stairs was a door, it looked different from the others you’d seen so far, too sturdy looking. A keypad type lock was above the hook-styled doorknob. “That’s fancy.” You pointed out as you let him guide you further up the stairs. “Oh yeah – I keep some work equipment down there.” He replied quickly, his other hand adjusting to lift the bags he was carrying, ensuring they didn’t smack the stairs as he went. The top floor plan was simple, two bedrooms, a large open area that connected to an upstairs balcony, and of course a bathroom. The bedroom was different, less modern than the setup of the downstairs. It was like it was ripped out of a vintage magazine, a fancy blue duvet set and a sturdy dark wood bed frame holding the king sized bed all together. No closet to be seen, but there was a matching dresser and wardrobe set. It was cozy.

You followed Leon’s lead, setting your phone on the nightstand before unpacking your things.

“You hungry?” He asked, folding the last of his things into the dresser drawer. “A little, yeah.”

“I can do breakfast for dinner. Tomorrow we can go to the store to get some actual groceries.” “Sounds good to me.”

You followed him back downstairs, leaning against the island, watching as he flicked on the burner to heat up the pan. The smokey scent of bacon and the popping sizzle of grease filled the kitchen, making your stomach rumble. It felt domestic in a nice way, normal. You watched his broad shoulders from behind as he focused on cooking. You had the urge to hug him from behind, press a kiss to his back – you didn’t act on it though.

The relationship between you was still strange, you weren’t able to put a label on it. Whatever the two of you were was trapped in some liminal space between couple, friends, and caretaker. It made you freeze before initiating on your end, even if you’d never deny it when he does it. To not have to deal with the feelings, you chose to take a better look around while you waited. Circling the living room a few times, running your hand over the soft fabric of the couch, before swinging around through the french doors into what looked like a sunroom repurposed into a library. The walls were covered in large bookshelves, each filled. Most were encyclopedias, college textbooks, science books for things you didn’t quite understand. There was a desk in the corner, an older looking laptop caked in dust sat on it.

Nothing was really interesting to look at, you were going to return to Leon when you noticed an open shoebox settled on one of the shelves, almost missing it as it sat atop some shorter books. It felt like snooping, but your curiosity got the better of you, pulling it down to peek. It didn’t have a lot, some documents with a few pictures scattered.

The first was an image of a younger looking Leon, same cropped hair and smile, but with far more boyish features. He was standing next to a stern looking man in a police uniform. Leon was holding what looked like a diploma of some kind. The next was a much more recent photo, dated for only a few months before you and Leon had even met. He was wearing that suit you saw him pack for work. “Oh shit –” You muttered to yourself, noting the girl standing next to him. “Ashley Graham?” It made sense, he worked for the government, but still, the president’s daughter? It seemed more than professional, the way he smiled at her, hand on his shoulder.

You went to toss both images back into the box when you realized that the first had another stuck to it. It was just a picture of a girl, brown hair pulled over her shoulder as she looked off into the distance, sitting on a bench. There was nothing really noteworthy about it, no label or date either.

“What are you doing?” Leon’s voice nearly made you jump out of your skin, seeing him standing in the doorway. “Sorry, I was just looking.” “Where’d you get those?” “They were just in this box, sorry, I shouldn’t have looked without asking.” He took the photos from your hand eyeing them before tossing them back into the box for you. “It’s fine. I thought I’d tossed them all anyway.” He said, chucking the whole box into the trash on his way back to the kitchen. “Why’d you do that?”

“They’re just memories I’d rather not remember.” He said coolly as he set the plated food out on the kitchen island.

“I can respect that.” You replied, not questioning him further. If there was anything you understood, it would be wanting to rid yourself of certain memories – though his were real pieces of his life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following morning started off rough. Out of habit you went to grab your phone off the nightstand the moment your eyes cracked open – yet all you felt was the hard wood of the table. You slapped your hand around a few times, still not feeling it. By the time Leon had woken up, you were buried into the wardrobe, digging into pockets of your own clothing, searching the bags too. “What’s up?” He asked with a yawn, scratching the side of his head. Parts of his hair stuck up a little unkempt from sleeping. You frowned at him, shutting the wardrobe’s doors. “I can’t find my phone. I had it last night.” He nodded at you, rubbing some sleep from his eyes. “You sure? I don’t remember seeing it.” “Leon don’t… don’t say that please.”

“Ok, ok. Let me call it.” He plucked his own phone up, you could hear the quiet dial tone and ringing through his speaker, but no vibration or ringing anywhere else in the room. You chewed your lip out of frustration, tapping your foot on the ground. He rested his hands on your shoulders giving them a light squeeze. “Look, it’s almost time for your appointment with Dr. Birkin. Why don’t you focus on that and I’ll look for it?” “Well how am I supposed to even go to said appointment witho–” “I got you covered.” He said, placing a quick kiss to your temple. “Laptop downstairs, already logged in. Set it up last night.”

“Alright.” You conceded, not having much choice in the matter anyway.

The appointment itself was standard. You talked about your feelings, he asked questions here and there. You answered. It didn’t feel nearly as emotionally heavy this time as before, and if anything you left feeling better having spoken about things again. It was also another sobering reminder of how much you needed Leon – how out of it you’d be without him.

Stretching from the hour of sitting in an office chair, Leon knocked on the door frame to get your attention before making his way to you. “How did it go?” “It went well.” “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Did you ever find my phone?” “Unfortunately not, I checked everywhere, including the jeep.” “I guess I must’ve left it at home.”

“One less distraction from your mini vacation.” “Mmmm true.” You conceded, following him out the library. “You still need company for that trip to the store?” “Would be lonely going alone. Might even get lost in one of the aisles.” He said with that signature smirk of his.

You couldn’t help but laugh in return. “Can’t let that happen.” The air outside was a little nippy, not wanting to change you asked if you could borrow a jacket. He pointed you to the hall closet, the one just inside the front door. You prodded around, there were several of what you assumed were Leon’s hanging up. A leather one with white stripes on the arms had your interest, you almost grabbed it when you saw a different one next to it. The bright red color caught your eye as you moved to pull it off of the hanger. It was smaller than the others, a woman’s styled leather jacket. You wondered for a moment why he would have something like that – an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy sparking up for a moment, you pushed it away telling yourself it didn’t matter. You slid the jacket on, fitting like a glove. It still had the lingering scent of perfume on it, one you recognized as your own. Not lingering to think about the situation further, you ran back out to the jeep. “There you are. Took so long I was starting to think you got lost in there.” When Leon lifted his head from the radio to look at you, his expression changed entirely, posture stiffening up like a cat. “Yeah, almost found my way to Narnia.” You joked, settling into the carseat. “Why are you wearing that?” His voice was sharp, sounding like some kind of accusation, not a question. “Well all I found were heavy winter coats and leather jackets. I saw this and thought it would be a better fit.” His knuckles turned white as he grasped onto the steering wheel, vision straight ahead at the house. He held his breath in for a moment, like a cartoon character about to pop and let steam out of their ears. “That belongs to her, it isn’t for you to wear.” You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Immediately you were on edge, swallowing down that nervous dryness in your throat. “I’m sorry – “ “Take it off.” “Right, I can go grab another —” “No, give it to me.” He said, putting his hand out expectantly.

Not wanting to argue with him, and more confused than anything, you quickly unzipped the jacket, sliding it off and handing it to him. Shuddering a little from the cold breeze hitting you now. He took it, tossing it into the back seat, his other hand still glued to the wheel, squeezing it tightly. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong.” “I think it’s best if you stay here.” “But Leon “ “Out of the car!” He snapped, this time pointing back to the house. The sound of his voice made you jump in your seat, scrambling to open the door and step out onto the grassy ground. The moment the jeep’s door was shut, he was backing away so loud the tires whirred loudly, kicking up some of the dirt on the ground as he spun it around and took off down the road, leaving you where you stood, some mud specks on your face. It reminded you of the movie theaters, getting left there out in the cold. The hurt and anxiety you felt after. But this was really happening, and you had no idea why. Standing there for a few seconds, like a lost child, you looked around taking in the place now in the view of sunlight. The dark trees that wrapped around the property danced in the wind. The house itself is more visible, the wooden exterior plated over itself, white painting chipping from the sides. You moved to stand on the wrap-around patio, following it around the house and towards the back yard to get a better view of the property you couldn’t see in the shadows of the previous night.

There wasn’t much to see from where you stood. A small garden in the back that hadn’t been maintained in sometime from the wild weeds and flowers that were scattered about. A decorative white fence latticed in vines and other foliage wrapped around the backyard, separating that section of land from the rest. Your standard hammock like bench-swing swung idly in the wind on the back part of the patio.

With nothing more to see and the chill of the outside creeping up again, you made your way back inside, relishing in the warmth of the house. Not sure how long you decided to stay outside, or even what time it was, instinctively you reached for your phone, patting at your pocket before remembering that it wasn’t with you. ‘Shit.’ You cursed inwardly, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Without Leon around, the house felt huge. It occurred to you that you were really all alone out in the middle of nowhere. No vehicle, no Leon, and not even a phone. It made your spine tingle, you squirmed a bit in place to get the feeling to go away before deciding to flop onto the couch.

‘I don’t get why he’s so upset. I would’ve just changed.’ You thought to yourself, mindlessly flipping through streaming apps. ‘Who is she anyway?’ The thought of Leon being angry with you made you want to cry. You didn’t though – managing to keep it together enough to idly watch some stupid show.

You hadn’t really paid attention to how many episodes you watched or how much time had passed. The soft rumbling of your stomach was the only other indicator that it had been awhile. As if on cue, you could hear the familiar sound of the jeep’s engine outside, whirring to a stop. Next came the inevitable footsteps on the porch, followed by the door opening.

Like a puppy, you bounded from the couch over to the sound, careful to get too close, scared he was still upset with you. There he was, hair slicked back slightly, multiple bags of groceries dangling on each arm. “Is that all of them, I can help –” “I got it.” He said flatly. The words cut you, deflated you. “Oh, ok.” You heeled back a bit, not moving from your spot. ‘So he is still mad.’ Tearing your eyes off of him, you looked down at the floor, fidgeting with your hands as you worked up to the courage to do or say something. The consideration to return to the couch won and you scurried back to sit and go back to your show.

A while later, the smell of food filled your nose, and a plate was held before you. Your eyes trailed up the muscular arm to meet Leon’s gaze as you took it from him. “Thank you…and hey look about earlier, I’m sorry.”

He sat next to you on the couch, his entire posture more relaxed than earlier. Setting his own plate down on the coffee table, and leaned back, one arm slung casually over the back of the couch. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s over with.” You nodded, taking a small bite of the pasta you twirled up on your fork. The silence lingering over the both of you made you feel heavy. Against your better judgment, you looked over to him and prodded. “Can I ask who she was?” He looked a little short circuited as he processed the question, like he was deciding what the right answer was. “An ex.” “Oh.” “Let’s just say things didn’t end on good terms. I don’t really want to talk about it.” “Right, I’m sorry.” “Don’t be. You didn’t know.” He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before grabbing his plate to eat himself. “You know.” He added, “It’s still early enough in the day. I was thinking we should still get out of the house.” “Sure. Did you have something in mind?” “Yeah, a surprise.” He added with a big smirk. You couldn’t help but match his smile, the corners of your mouth tugging up instinctively. “Sounds good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the late afternoon, nearly early evening when you found yourself out by the lake. There was a small dirt path that led from the backyard and down through the woods. It had opened up to a small clearing by the water, some crude seating and a stone-campfire set up already there.

Initially there was trepidation on your part, worried that the site of the woods might stir some of those bad memories up. He managed to convince you though, promising to take you back the moment you became uncomfortable if you wanted.

So far things were ok. The last of the warm sun beat down onto your back as you laid out on the soft towel beneath you. It was refreshing and relaxing – it’d been so long since you’d had that full sense of pure normalcy and relief. Arms crossed under your head, you watched Leon as waded through the shallower part of the water. He stopped when the water landed just below his navel, looking out towards the trees behind you.

Your eyes ran from the dusty blonde happy trail upwards, over his abs and to his pecs, before finally landing on his eyes. The way the warm tones of the sunset casted down onto him, made him look beautiful, like he belonged in a painting. The blonde in his hair was contrasted by the different shades of purple and orange that lit his right side. Before the light of the day was finally gone, you wanted to get closer – see if it did wonders for the pools of blue in his eyes.

Stretching out like a cat, you languidly crawled to your feet, wading into the cool water. A slight hiss escaped you at the abrupt change in temperature, but you continued forward until you reached him. “Well hello there.” He looked down at you running his wet thumb over your collar bone slightly. “Almost thought you were sleeping over there.” “Almost was.” You confirmed. “But that was before I realized there was a view to admire.” This moment felt familiar, safe.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about the lake?” That damn smirk again, got you every time. Your theory was right too, the specks and hues of blue stood out under his thick eyelashes as he looked down at you. He was gorgeous. So very Leon. “Well maybe that’s because I’m not.” Placing a hand on his chest, you moved a little closer to him.

“You’re not talkin’ about me are you?” “I just might be.” Leaning real close, you nearly stood on your tip toes, lips so close you could feel his breath gently fanning your face. You could see what he was expecting as his lips twitched. Unfortunately for him you broke the tension by splashing some water on him, your own smile twisting into an amused smirk. “You play dirty.” He accused, splashing back at you. “Get back over here coward.” He said playfully, following you as you cowered back to shore to avoid his onslaught of water, stopping every now and then to launch a counter attack.

Your back hit the soft sand of the shore, him on top of you, elbows on either side of your head. You couldn’t help but laugh at the cheesy exchange, genuine happiness rumbling in your chest. “Very cute, sweetheart.” “I’d like to think so.”

Again you were close, face to face, but it was his turn to deny you. He pushed himself up and out of the water. “It’ll be dark soon. You want to go back?” Pondering the question for a moment, you shook your head. “Not yet. I’m having a good time.” “Glad to hear it.” Digging around through the bag he’d brought out with the both of you, he pulled out a zippo lighter and some bundle of what almost looked like tumbleweed tied together. He held the small flame to the fire starter before tossing it into the bundle of wood that had been left in the fire pit.

Everything was fine at first until the licking flames picked up intensity, the entirety of the pit filling with the dancing orange and yellow lights – high enough for the heat of the flame to slap against your face. A tightness in your chest formed, freezing you in place like a statue. Your throat dried and contracted like trying to breath in dust.

“My head. It’s splitting my head.” Your head turned side to side, scanning for the source of the voice. The world around you black besides the flames.

“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!”

The words were so loud it was like a flashbang against your ears, brain rattling in your head. You couldn’t focus on anything, the hazy colors before your eyes turning into a kaleidoscope from the water forming in your eyes. “IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!”

You couldn’t breathe at all now, gasping desperately for air. Every time you blinked a shadowy figure moved in the fire, a tentacle-like outline whipped about above it. ‘Leon. Leon please I’m scared.’ You couldn’t get the words to vocalize out of your mouth, trapped in your throat.

“Sweetheart?” Leon’s voice whispered in your ear, two large arms snaking around you from behind to hold you close. “It’s ok. Breathe baby.” He cooed. You squeezed your eyes shut, gulping down as much air as you could. “There you go. There you go.” You did it a second time, and a third, until your breathing evened out and you could ground yourself where you stood. The heat of his torso was pressed against your back, the weighted feelings of his arms. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”

When you dared to crack your eyes open again, the world was normal. No shadowy blackness, no bleak figure, just the fire crackling in front of you. The trees swishing back and forth, lit up by the twinkling stars and moon, sun having fully set. And of course, Leon. You spun in his arms, wrapping your own around him, he tightened the hug holding you close. “God I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…I….god.” “Shhh. Shhhh.” He rubbed your back softly. “Why don’t we head back?” “No!” You snapped, looking up at him. “No, I don’t want to go back yet.” He flashed you a confused look, opening to say something, but you cut him off. “Please. I was having such a good time. I’m sick of being crazy. I…it was just one incident. I don’t want to go yet.” “Ok.” He agreed. “Ok, we won’t go yet.” Conceding his tucked some of your hair behind your ear again, clearly still concerned, but not pushing it.

You plopped down onto the towel, facing the fire. No more threatening images for the time being. The two of you sat in silence, his hand over yours on the ground. It took a while for your heart rate to fully go back to normal, for the feeling of being on edge to fully dissipate, but once it did you felt like you were floating, just sitting next to him – like his hand was an anchor and without it you’d just drift away into the vast emptiness of the sky. You didn’t deserve him but God you were sure you loved him – the first time you could admit it even inside your own thoughts. It was freeing. No guilt or shame attached, just the gooey feeling of contentment.

“Leon?” “Hmm?” “Thank you. For all of this.” “Don’t mention it.” “I mean it.” “I know.” He lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently. “I like you.” He let out a soft chuckle against your knuckles. “Well geez, I’d hope so. I like you too.”

It felt a little pathetic to announce yourself that way. “Can I ask you something?” “Shoot.” “What are we?”

He looked up to meet your gaze, his expression soft but serious. You watched Adam's apple flex as he swallowed nothing, analyzing the question. “What do you want us to be?” “Maybe more than friends?” You offered a non-absolute answer, nervous of any true rejection. “I think we already are more than friends.” “Well yeah, true.” You tapered the conversation off, not brave enough to ask for more definitives just yet.

He dropped your hand in favor of scooting closer to you, wrapping his arm around you to pull you onto his lap. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re really feeling.” “Why are you so perfect?” Your words were barely above a whisper as you slunk your arms around his shoulders. “Far from it, actually.” “Disagree. God I disagree.” His retort stopped dead when you blurted out the next words so quickly they shocked even yourself. “I think I love you.” You’re not sure you’d even seen him with such a deer in the headlights expression on his face before, it made you feel the urge to backtrack, suck the words right back in. “I’m sorr –” He pressed his lips against yours, silencing any apology. Your heart skipped a beat, blood feeling boiling hot each time it pumped through you. You returned the kiss this time, softly, slowly. It wasn’t like the quick passion at his apartment. “Can I have you?” You whispered into his neck, kissing at his pulse. “I’m already yours.” You responded by nipping at that same spot. “Take me?”

He sucked in a breath at the sensation, squeezing you a little tighter to him. You could feel his cock twitch in his swim shorts. “Are you sure?” His voice was low. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable again, move too fast.”

“I’m sure this time. Very sure. Please, I just want you.”

He pulled you back from him just enough to scan your face, giving you one more moment to back out. When you didn’t say anything else, he kissed you again, this time leaning forward with you until you were laying on your back. His lips were as soft and plush as you remembered them, making you want more. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He asked, mouthing more kisses along your neck and chest. He made quick work of your bathing suit top, sliding the straps out of their tied knot and tossing it gently to the side. Arousal mixed with the light breeze blowing the warmth of the fire past you made your nipples perk up, sensitive as ever. It didn’t go unnoticed by him as he took the opportunity to run his tongue along your collarbone before following down the center of your chest. The trail of saliva left behind drying in the outside air making your skin tingle in the best possible way.

He pressed another kiss to the side of your right breast before he teased your nipple, flicking it with licks of his tongue a few times before sucking it into his mouth. The sensation made you squirm beneath him, thighs squeezing together around his leg that was planted between them. By the time he’d moved on to your other tit, you were rubbing yourself against his leg for some relief. He chuckled, popping off with a smile. “So needy baby. Must’ve been pent up these last few months.” “Mhmm” You nodded, eyes already hazed over with lust, mind empty of any critical thought. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel really good. Scouts honor.” He punctuated the sentence by moving down to nip at your hip making you buck up a little. Amused by the reaction he did it again, this time on the plushness of your inner thigh while he worked the ties of your bottoms off as well, discarding them with the top. He returned to what he was doing, this time sucking a bruise into the soft skin. Then another, each one a pleasurably dull kind of pain. He flattened his tongue to each one, helping soothe out the pain. “Purple’s really your color baby.” He cooed, admiring his work.

Your clit throbbed with need, hole begging for attention. He rested one hand on your hip, rubbing soft circles into it as he continued to tease you, pressing a kiss to your mound, another on the opposing thigh. “Leon.” You whined. “Please I need more.” “I know, I know. I’m getting there sweetheart. Just wanna take my time, been imagining this for so long.” He rewarded your please by dragging the tip of his tongue down before flattening it against your clit, lapping at it gently. The sugary heat radiated out as you moaned, fingers working their way into his soft hair, gripping at it.

It should’ve been no surprise Leon was good with his mouth, circling your bundle of nerves with his tongue before sucking on it gently. You’re not sure you’d ever had a lover so attentive before, not even in your false memories. “F-fuck, so good.” You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the pleasure he was giving you. You felt him sink a digit into your slicked pussy. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than the nothing that was there before. He added another finger, pumping them as he worked your clit with his tongue.

He curled his thick fingers just right, reaching that special spot inside of you. The one that made your legs tense, clit pulse. What blood was left in your head soared to your lower half, a weak gasp escaping your mouth as you came. Your legs trembled around his head, thighs clamping shut, you’d almost be worried about crushing him if you were capable of thought. He continued to gently work you, not enough to overstimulate, but the perfect amount to draw out that pleasure until it faded to just tingles at the tips of your toes.

You were left breathless, panting as he pulled away, wiping his chin off on the back of his hand. Your eyes landed on the now fully formed tent in his shorts, expecting him to move to get it out, to fuck you into the ground. Instead, he leans back on his legs, looks down at you. The silence feels strange, and you're suddenly reminded of your location – outdoors – as the crickets pick up their chirping, the leaves of the trees crash into each other from the wind. You shiver from the breeze, until it blows in the opposite direction, sending a wave of heat from the campfire washing over you. When he still doesn’t move, you quickly become self conscious, scared that he was changing his mind. Worry takes over your face as you prop yourself up on your elbows, before you can say it, he leans down to kiss you again. This time he makes a point to slip his tongue into it, letting you taste yourself on him. He wraps his arm around you, holding your head in place to kiss you sloppily. He grinds against you slightly, groaning into the kiss when he does. “Don’t worry princess. I just needed to take a moment after that. Was too good, so perfect, had to take it in.” He knew you so well. “Want you.” You mumbled against his lips. “Want you in me, wanna feel you. Wanna be close.” “I know.” He said, reaching his hand down between you both to undo the drawstring of his shorts. He tugged them down just enough to free his erection, thick and throbbing. You couldn’t see it perfectly in the deep shadows that the fire made, but you could feel it. He ran the head along your slit a few times. “Can tell how bad you want me, she’s practically crying for me.”

You suck in a breath at his words, feeling arousal begin to twinge between your legs again. He gently pushed the tip into your soaking folds, the stretch stinging slightly despite his earlier actions. “Oh.” You gasped as he pressed each inch slowly into you. You’d never felt so full before, like he was in your ribs – it was overwhelming and comforting at the same time. “O-oh.” You moaned, feeling him pull out again, grasping up at his shoulders.

He gave a few more slow but deep thrusts, giving you the chance to adjust and accommodate him. “That’s it baby, so tight.” He flattened his palm against your belly, pressing down making the full feeling intensify. Your back arched into his palm, adding to the sensation. “S’big.” You whined. “Mhmm. Just relax, you’re doing such a good job. Already taking me so well.” He readjusted your position, leaning forward and pulling your legs up at the same time to hook over his shoulders. The shift made him feel even deeper inside of you, head of his cock pushing against your cervix with each thrust.

You didn’t even know you were this flexible when he practically folded you in half while he fucked himself into you, making sure he was close enough to pepper your face with small kisses when given the opportunity. You heard him mumbling sweet compliments between his increasingly erratic breathing, but you were too blissed out to even register the words. “God….god…oh my god!” You squeezed the towel beneath you,, bunching it within your fists as he continued to roll his hips against you, wiry blond hair and his pubic bone bumping into your clit as his cock rubbed past that spongy spot, more sensitive now from your first orgasm. “That’s my girl.” He sped up his pace, the sound of skin slapping mixing with the cackle of the fire as you moved from death-gripping the towel to clawing at his back, desperate for your next release, desperate to be as close as possible to him. “My pretty Bunny.”

The pet name clicked something in your brain, and you lost yourself again, muscles tensing velvety walls tightening around his impossibly big cock as you came again. His own eyes closed, a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead to between your breasts, his own quiet noises picking up in volume, his pace erratic as he chased his own high this time. Pulsing with the aftershocks of your second orgasm, you could feel as he throbbed within you, painting your inside white with his hot seed. Half asleep and sated, you let out a noise of disappointment when he finally pulled out, wanting to stay as close as you could to him. As if he could read your mind, he immediately pulled you into his embrace, rubbing his hand against your stomach as he spooned you from behind.

The visual of the campfire became blurry the heavier your eyelids grew, and it wasn’t long until you were out like a light, curled against him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up some time later, scrunched up in bed. It was still dark out when you sat up to rub your eyes and yawn. You didn’t remember the journey back but you weren’t surprised Leon had managed that, likely carrying you back in your sleep. If not for your dry throat and desperate need for a glass of water, you’d have flopped right back down to resume your unconsciousness.

Instead, you pushed your legs over the side of the bed, still a little wobbly and exhausted. In your half asleep state it took you an extra minute to register the fact that Leon hadn’t been next to you. “S’weird.” You muttered to yourself, sluggishly moving towards the door and down the hallway. The house was dark, no light to be seen, not even from the bathroom – which you noted was open, no Leon inside. As you took a few steps down the staircase, you could see from above the living room was also dark and silent, not even the TV’s screensaver was on, and the only light emanating from the kitchen was the small light above the stove.

A more awake version of yourself would’ve been a little more worried with his whereabouts, but for now you only had one mission – water. The moment the tap finished filling up the glass cup, you gulped it down, and then another. Soothing the cottony feeling in your mouth and the soreness of your throat.

Relieved and quenched, you exited the kitchen heading back to bed. Though still tired, you were slightly more alert now, rubbing at your eyes again while you walked. Passing the double doors to the library room, you heard Leon’s voice, and it stopped you in your tracks. “I miss you.” “Huh?” The words caught your attention instantly. One of the double french doors was cracked enough that you could peer through without much effort. While the initial reaction had been jealousy, the fear he was talking to another woman on the phone, you were left dumbfounded by the reality. He was sitting at the desk, the red jacket in his hands as he spoke. “You know I didn’t want things to end this way. I thought you were perfect for me. We could’ve been so great together.” He brought the jacket to his face, taking in a deep inhale of it, holding his breath before finally exhaling. “I blame it on him, putting those awful thoughts in your head. Tearing you away from me.” His grip on the jacket tightened so much you could see the vein in his arm flex even with just the dim lamp on the desk and the distance between you.

‘What the hell?’ You weren’t sure what to make of what you were witnessing, but you knew it didn’t sit right with you. It was just…weird.

“I wish you didn’t force me to end things. But it’s alright, I’ve moved on. I know you’d be happy for me.” He spit onto his hand, moving it beneath the desk. A whimper left his mouth, needier, different from how he sounded above you. Wet schlicking noises told you exactly what he was doing as he sniffed the jacket again. “You both wear the same perfume. Love it so much.” He added between grunts. “God. Might take me a minute baby. Already blew a load earlier.” The sounds picked up speed.

It felt wrong to keep watching, whatever was happening was a clearly intimate moment you didn’t belong a part of. You took the opportunity to gently back away from the door, and as quietly as you could made it back up to the bedroom, pulling the thick blanket over your head, like a child fending off the boogie man. “What. The. Fuck.” You whispered to yourself. It left you with a million questions you weren’t completely sure you wanted answers to. An amalgamation of emotions swirled in your head, confusion, worry, jealousy? You knew the jacket smelled like your perfume, but the confirmation as he jerked it to his ex made you shudder. “Gross.”

Your sleepiness had worn off, leaving you to lay awake with your thoughts. It wasn’t long after that the bedroom door creaked open, the sound of soft padding across the floor was heard before the weight of the bed sunk in behind you. Leon’s arm wasn’t comforting as it wrapped around you this time, it felt more like a weight forcing you in place. You wanted to pretend you were asleep, but the claustrophobic feeling was too much making you move a little on instinct. “Why were you downstairs?”

The question made the hair on your neck stand up despite his warm breath. “I needed some water.” “Mmmm, you going to lie to me now?�� “What? I’m not –” “I know you were watching.” His grip around you tightened, squeezing you against him. It felt threatening in a way you couldn’t explain. “I didn’t mean to.” “It's not polite to stare.”

“I know.” “What were you doing downstairs?” “I told you I was just getting a drink.” “Then why were you watching?” “I heard your voice. I didn’t know where you were. I’m sorry.” Tears formed quicker than you expected. He sat up slightly, rolling you to face him. His hand gripped your jaw slightly, you could barely make out his figure in the dark room. He pressed his lips to yours. “Don’t let me catch you spying again.”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t reply, instead laying back down, pulling you against his chest. He rubbed your back like he normally did when you fell asleep, but no comfort came from it. The whole thing had you wigged out, bad.

“Leon?” “Hmm?” “Is there any way we could head back tomorrow?” “We have a whole trip planned.” “I know. I just wanted to get my phone, I’ve been feeling weird without it.” You let out an awkward laugh, hoping to play it off. Really though you were desperate to be closer to other people. “Sorry I’m not good enough company.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “No really. It’s nothing to do with you. Please, we can come back, I just really want to get it.” “No.” It was so firm it threw you off completely. “But Leon that’s not f–”

“Leon –” “I said no. I’m not driving you hours there and back, wasting gas because you forgot your phone. You don’t even need it.” “It’s not about needing it. I’d just feel more comfortable if I had it.”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” “I don’t want to talk about it tomorrow, I just want to go home and grab it.” “I already said, no.” You yanked yourself away from his space, to the other side of the bed, flicking the lamp on. You can’t remember ever actually having argued with him before, at least not in a true capacity. “You’re making me uncomfortable.” “You’re being ungrateful.”

His words sliced you like a knife, you frowned. “I’m not –” “You are.” “I want to go home. I don’t want to stay here anymore. You can’t just keep me here if I don't want to be.” “Sweetheart –” “No, I’m serious Leon. I’m not staying. I don’t know what’s up with this weird thing you have with your ex, or anything else. But I don’t want to be here anymore. I need to go home. I need space.” He clicked his tongue, sitting up. “We both know that you don’t know what you need. Just come back to bed.”

Resistant, you stood out of the bed staring down at him, face red with anger and upset. “No. Take me home right now.” He didn’t respond immediately, scanning you with his eyes. “Sweetheart, you’re not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not tomorrow either.” “I –” He was making you so frustrated. “If you don’t take me home, then I’ll figure out a way home myself.” “No, you won’t.” He threw his own legs over the side of the bed, righting himself. When he turned to face you, you felt cornered. To combat the feeling you sidestepped closer to the bedroom door. “Stop.” You said, putting your hand out in front of you, palm open fingers spread out as if that would magically keep him distanced from you. “Stay there.” “Baby.” He said unamused. “I mean it.” “What’s gotten into you?” “I told you. You’re making me uncomfortable.” His brows came together as if he was considering what you were saying. You took the opportunity to back up from the door into the hallway. “I think you’re having an episode. I think you need to calm down.” ‘The fucking audacity.’ You thought to yourself taking another step back. Lightning lit up the hallway from the window, the boom of thunder following close behind. Rain pattered against the windows as silence took over the situation between you. He didn’t move from where he was standing in the bedroom, you didn’t move from where your feet were planted in the hallway.

“Please come back to bed?” His voice was soft now, pleading. “I’m really not sure why you’re acting this way right now. But I’m concerned about you. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable, just come back ok?” He reached his hand out gently, as if he were taming a wild animal – the only result was you taking a step back.

Defiantly you shook your head. “Sweetie.”

You took another step back. He sighed, taking a step forward. You felt sick somehow, legs telling you to run again, run before he did something. Run before you’d be stuck just like in the woods. Fear you couldn’t explain. You knew you were being dramatic. It was Leon, there was no reason to be this on edge, even despite the weirdness of the evening, but your nerves told you differently. “Are you going to take me home?” “No baby.”

That was it, you bolted as fast as you could, feet skittering across the polished wooden floorboards. If you hadn’t used the bannister, you’d have face planted with the quickness you used to get down the stairs, missing the last few steps entirely. There was no immediate sound of movement behind you, at least none you could hear through your own pulse thrumming in your ears. You tore through the living room looking for a home phone, his cell, anything. Finally his flat steps were heard coming down the stairs

Your search came up empty. You knew there was nothing in the kitchen. Nervously you slid into the library, slamming the double doors shut and clicking the little turn locks on the inside knobs, just in time for him to be on the other side, gently twisting the knobs. “Baby, just come out here.”

“No.” You said weakly, looking around the room. The laptop was no longer on the desk, but you did see his keys tossed on the corner of it. With a shaky hand, you reached out and picked them up, tucking the fob into your palm, the metal part sticking out between two fingers as a defensive weapon. He stopped attempting to twist the knobs and instead knocked gently. “Why don’t you take a minute to calm down?” “No.” You repeated again, looking for a way out. “You’re not acting rational.” He added.

There were no other connecting doors besides the ones leading out into the living room area, and you knew you couldn’t make it past Leon that way. The windows to the office were large, missing screens like with most old homes. It wouldn’t take much to slip through one – ‘but which of us would make it out to the jeep first?’

“Just leave me alone!” You yelled back at him, clicking the little latch on the window sill. You waited for the next crack of thunder to make the move. Despite the old wood, the window lifted easily, giving you a view to the patio. “I can’t do that. You know that.” He replied, seemingly unaware of your plan.

You went out leg first, making sure the key was tight in your fist. Rain was beating down on the ground so hard the yard had practically been rendered all mud, running through it barefoot was going to be a challenge. ‘Just get to the jeep. Just get to the jeep’ You repeated in your head, stepping out into the disgustingly wet dirt, cringing when it mushed between your toes.

Without a second thought, you took off running towards the front of the house, feet slapping into the wet surface of the ground, tshirt and hair soaked in the rain. You tripped over a rock, tumbling flatly splashing up grass and more mud into your face and torso. Not giving up, you righted yourself completely, half falling again as you ran to the car. By this point Leon had already figured out your plan, the front door of the house slamming open. You looked back only long enough to see him walking towards you as you grabbed the door handle to pull yourself back up and over into the driver's seat. Trembling, you dropped the keys trying to get them into the ignition. “Shit. Shit.” You felt around on the floor, grabbing hold of them again, this time successfully managing to stick them in the ignition and turning the jeep on.

“You’re being so dramatic right now.” He called out, halfway to you. “You’re acting terrified. Just come back inside.” You shook your head, pulling the gearshift out of the parked position and into reverse, careful to not let it slip in your shaking and wet state. Slamming the gas pedal didn’t go in your favor, instead of moving, the vehicle roared in place, tires spinning against the soft earth, mud flying about, some flinging backwards smacking into you. “No…no…shit no..” You squeaked, slamming down on the pedal harder, turning the wheel. It still wouldn’t budge, mud and grass going everywhere in the rain. You tried putting it into drive, the whole vehicle lunged forward an inch before getting stuck again. “Come on. Come on.” You begged the universe. Too focused on the jeep, you had lost focus of Leon. The door opened and he reached over you, pulling the keys out and tossing them into the passenger seat floor somewhere. You went to dive for them when he scooped you up instead, holding you tightly as you kicked and squirmed, clawing at him to get out of his grasp. He didn’t speak, but held firm as he made his way back inside with you, depositing you onto the floor of the entranceway.

You stared up at him, trying to scoot back. There was a claw mark on his face from your nails, a little blood beading up there, a matching one on his shoulder. He knelt down to look at you, face full of concern. He cupped your cheeks in his hands, stopping your movement. “Good god baby, look at you. I mean really, look at you. This isn’t what a sane person would do.” His voice was so sickly sweet, it made you choke out a sob. “Y-you scared me – I.” “I scared you? Baby I’m bleeding because of you. You tried to steal my car. You’re soaked, covered in mud….God baby, see this is exactly why I had to bring you out here. Could you imagine what would happen if you acted like this in front of other people?” “But I –” You looked into his eyes, then at the stripe of blood on his cheek. You looked around, then down at your mud covered body. You felt pathetic. He was right, this was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. “I’m sorry Leon.” You said, face scrunching up into an ugly cry. Like a toddler you sat in front of him sobbing, soaking wet. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh. Shhh.” He hushed you, one hand leaving your cheek. You felt the sting of something in your side, but were hazy before you could even register anything.

You managed one more snotty sob before your vision was spotty, head becoming harder and harder to hold up – then the relaxing tug of unconsciousness overtook you.

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