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#they just jumped to conclusions about what they THOUGHT i was talking about and made assumptions that it was all bad
desertfangs · 2 days
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The way Marius reacts to Pandora turning Flavius is so funny but it's also so telling. He loves Flavius deeply, this man has basically run his household for years, and they clearly have a relationship of mutual respect, if nothing else. And when he's dying, Marius knows Flavius doesn't want him to see him in pain and miserable or watch him die, so he leaves.
Once he's gone, Pandora immediately makes him a vampire. No hesitation (I love her):
Marius had long ago laid down the rule that no other blood drinker was ever to be made. I didn't bother to question him on this. As soon as he was gone, I made Flavius into a vampire.
And Marius comes back and his reaction is so over the top. He demands Flavius leave, shouting at him to get out of his home and the city, no, out of the country! And Pandora is sure that Marius is pissed she turned someone else and is going to hate her for eternity due to her transgression. Whoops!
But no. Well, not entirely. Marius is so insecure and uncertain of her love that he assumed she was going to leave with Flavius. Like, my man. My dude! What a conclusion to jump to!
I discovered Marius was grieving, and when he looked up, I realized that he had been utterly convinced that I meant to go off with Flavius. When I saw this, I took him in my arms. He was full of quiet relief and love; he forgave me at once for my "absolute rashness."
It's fascinating to me because Marius is so much like Lestat in a lot of ways but one way that's not talked about a lot is his insecurity and self-doubt. Marius knows he's been a bit hard-nosed with Pandora in laying down rules, and he knows she's not one to be constrained. He holds people he loves close, sometimes too close, and they resist his iron grip. And so he assumes she will leave him the first chance she gets.
So anyhow, I just thought this was an interesting bit of insight into Marius and who he is as a person, and how he is absolutely kind of a mess just like the rest of them.
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say-al0e · 29 days
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Movie Night
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Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!
Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie Munson for ages. When you finally ask him over to a watch a movie, you learn that your feelings are definitely requited. Warnings: General mention of Eddie's reputation/being mistreated for said reputation, protected PinV, oral (m receiving). Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.8k (it got away from me, my bad)
“I think I’m going to ask him out.”
Steve, who had been sorting through tapes on autopilot - huffing at each return that needed to be rewound, muttering under his breath each time your perch on the counter jeopardized his precarious pile of returns - lifted his head at the sound of your voice.
A quick glance around the store reminded him that it was empty, save for the two of you, Dustin Henderson, and Eddie Munson. It was obvious that you weren’t talking about Dustin and he knew you weren’t talking about him - been there, done that; be kind, don’t rewind. 
The only logical conclusion was Eddie and that pulled a grimace from Steve as he spared your one-time classmate a  weary glance.
Across the store, Eddie watched as Dustin - with flailing limbs and grinning lips - sorted through tapes in search of a film neither you nor Steve had ever heard of. He looked amused, eyes wide and bright as he listened to Dustin, and it brought a soft smile to your lips that Steve quickly erased.
“You’re going to ask out Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” Steve shuddered, as if he couldn’t bear to think about it - only a little exaggerated, a little dramatic in a way he often teased Dustin for - and shook his head as he transferred his pile to the cart. “Why would you do something like that?”
Though Steve had made great strides in shedding the high school persona he’d spent so long clinging to - he was no longer the Grade-A douchebag he once was - there were still moments of reflexive snobbery that made you roll your eyes. It didn’t help that there was an undercurrent of jealousy, spurred by Dustin’s newfound Eddie worship, but he seemed to realize his mistake as he held up a hand in apology.
“He’s cute.” There was a defensive bite to your tone, sharp and pointed - a derisive huff that made Steve raise a brow - as you spared the pair a glance.
Though most wouldn’t believe it, you’d always found Eddie cute. When he returned to school your junior year (his first senior year) with longer hair, wearing a leather jacket, you’d been drawn to him immediately. There was something about him that enchanted you - his hair, his smile, his big brown eyes, his theatrics, his give-no-fucks attitude - and saddled you with one of the biggest crushes you’d ever had.
Despite the years of pining, you never acted on it. Eddie never gave you much reason to believe your feelings might be requited, other than the time you caught him checking out your ass beneath your cheer skirt senior year, but things were different now. High school insecurity was gone and you no longer cared what anyone thought about your personal life.
And if Eddie truly had no interest in you, you wouldn’t be stuck in a building with him five days a week.
Steve’s face remained sour, uncertain - despite his knowledge that Eddie was almost perfectly your type - so you rolled your eyes and jostled the desk, just to make him jump. When he glared at you, you grinned.
“I mean, what’s the harm? Eddie’s always been nice to me. At worst, I pull a Henderson and replace you with Eddie.”
“Please. My life would drastically improve if you left me alone.” At your mock outrage, Steve sneered - though you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, one that confirmed he was joking, though he would likely apologize for being bitchy later, anyway.
Steve shook his head as he shoved a tape, ready to be marked as a return, into your hands. “Of course Munson has always been nice to you. You’re hot.” It was said easily, as if it was the most logical explanation, a point blank huff that had him shrugging when you teasingly wagged your brows. “You know I think you’re hot. Shut up. And Munson’s weird, but he’s still a guy.”
The sharp nudge of your foot to Steve’s side drew another annoyed huff, this one accompanied by a swift swat to your foot - one that made you laugh and Steve roll his eyes.
“He’s not weird,” you defended, eyes narrowed as you scratched at the Family Video sticker covering the spine of a tape. “Just because you’re not into the same stuff doesn’t mean he’s, like, a freak or something. He’s just a guy. A cute guy, but just a guy.”
Finally, as if he’d come to terms with the fact that no work would be done until you’d decided to make your move or backed down, deflated and intending to leave well enough alone, Steve turned to lean against the counter. He folded his arms over his chest and allowed his gaze to flicker between you and Eddie.
“You’re really into him?” 
Steve knew that you were. Just as you’d given him dating advice, he’d given you the same in return and knew that you had a thing for metalheads in theory - guys with leather jackets and music collections that made his head hurt - but the last person you actually pursued was more like him. It was always the safe choice and he wanted to be certain that you knew what you were getting yourself into.
“You’re totally forgetting that I thought Billy Hargrove was gorgeous until he opened his mouth and proved himself to be a Grade-A dickhead. At least Eddie’s really a nice guy.” With a sigh, you slid from the counter - careful not to destroy Steve’s pile - and frowned as you spared Eddie another sideways glance.
A dejected sigh escaped, fell from your mouth in a puff of hot air, as you emulated Steve’s stance and folded your arms over your chest. You understood where Steve was coming from - his question was fair, one that made perfect sense - but it made your chest ache as you searched for the words to adequately describe what you’d been thinking.
“I just… I’m tired of going for the safe choice, you know? I’m tired of looking for people that won’t disappoint my parents or make judge-y assholes look twice, even if they make me miserable.” With a forced laugh, a sound that rang hollow in your own ears, you turned your full attention back to Steve. “I think you’re the only person I ever even attempted to date that I halfway liked and we both know how that ended up.” Steve made a face, one that clearly displayed his understanding, as he tilted his head to study Eddie, trying to see what you saw. “Eddie’s cute and sweet and I’m not just into him because I feel like I’m supposed to be.”
Steve understood, if only vaguely - he’d chased after people just because he felt he was supposed to, spent his entire high school career being a guy he didn’t really like because that was who he felt he was supposed to be - so he nodded. With a wave of his hand, he gestured to Eddie. “I say, if you want to ask him out, just do it. There’s no chance he’ll turn you down. He’s weird, not an idiot.”
With Steve’s encouragement, if only barely, you turned to face Eddie. There was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, flames lapping at your already warm skin, as you considered exactly how to approach him. There was no sense in trying to beat around the bush - he was sweet, flirty and kind, but would need to be asked directly, just to avoid any misunderstanding - and you knew that you couldn’t have a conversation with him with Dustin Henderson stuck to his side.
“Steve.”
An exasperated sigh escaped Steve, who had only just turned back to his work, as he held his hands up in defeat. “What?” Warm brown eyes narrowed, focused on you in an exasperated frustration that made you laugh. “What do you want me to do? I’m not asking him out for you.”
Laughter bubbled in your throat, escaped a little louder than you intended and drew Eddie and Dustin’s attention as you imagined Steve playing the middleman for you and Eddie. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned your head and pouted at Steve. “Take responsibility for your child and distract Henderson. I can’t ask Eddie out with him right there.”
Steve fixed you with a wholly unimpressed stare, not at all surprised by the turn your day had taken. “Fine,” he sighed, turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Get him over here and I’ll distract him. But you owe me. Cover my shift on Saturday? I’ve got a date with Lisa.”
“I thought you were going out with Anna?” Steve grimaced in a way that told you there would be a deeper conversation later, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be distracted. Instead, you waved a hand. “Whatever. Henderson is literally only here because of you. I don’t owe you shit.” You rounded the counter, brows raised as Steve pulled a face, and laughed when he rolled his eyes. “I will swap you, though. I’ll take your Saturday night if you take my Friday night.”
“Yeah, alright. Just go before I change my mind. The kid can be a total cockblock when he wants to be and I’m thinking about letting him.”
With a middle finger tossed behind you, angled in Steve’s direction - met with his laughter and, no doubt, a middle finger of his own - you started off across the store. Dustin and Eddie had dropped their conversation to furious whispers, an exchange that you couldn’t make out from your distance, but fell silent the moment your steps sounded a touch too close.
“Henderson.” At your greeting, Dustin’s attention snapped to you, eyes wide and lips parted with a sentence you’d broken. Eddie shot him a sideways look and you raised an eyebrow at the silent conversation that passed between the pair. “Steve wanted to talk to you.”
Dustin frowned, eyes darting between you and Steve - whose back remained to your group. “About what?”
Eddie stifled a laugh, wide eyes amused as he watched you huff, and you rolled your eyes as Dustin waited expectantly. “I’m not a mindreader, Henderson. Ask him yourself."
Without so much as another glance in your direction, Dustin turned his attention back to the shelf he and Eddie had spent twenty minutes dissecting. “I’m busy,” he declared, fingers reaching for another tape that he had no intention of renting.
“Un-busy yourself. Now, preferably,” you snapped, eyes narrowing as Dustin turned to look at you. Before he could respond - mutter something smart, a quip that would leave you more annoyed - Eddie laughed and nudged his shoulder.
Eddie’s eyes, wide and pretty - a glassy brown that you could lose yourself in, given the chance - met yours. There was a knowing glimmer, the understanding that you wanted him alone, though you could see a hint of confusion as he tried to imagine just what you could want. “I think you’ve got about five seconds to leave before she snaps, Henderson. Might want to make yourself scarce.”
With Eddie’s encouragement, Dustin shot you an unimpressed glower before he stomped across the floor, muttering all the while. Beneath his breath, he mumbled something about not understanding girls, a huff that Suzie was the least difficult girl in his life, and had the nerves not been threatening to choke you, you would’ve laughed.
“I love those kids,” you began, eyes following Dustin’s retreating form as he approached the counter with an exaggerated huff, “but, man.”
A soft huff of laughter, accompanied by the crinkle of leather as Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, met your eyes. That knowing smile grew a touch brighter, something more understanding, as he nodded. “It’s his tone,” he declared, grin conspiratorial. “A little humility would go far there.”
“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying!”
Eddie laughed and shook his head as you tossed your arms, exasperated, before glancing at you from beneath his lashes. Despite the clear amusement still settled across his features, it was obvious that he was studying you. It made you eager to shrink beneath his gaze, unused to being the center of his attention for longer than a few moments, but you willed yourself to keep your head held high as he raised a brow.
“So, Henderson’s gone,” he pointed out, dragging each syllable out just a moment longer than necessary. “What’s up? If you’re lookin’ to buy, I don’t have anything with me. We could meet later, though, if you want.”
“No, no. That’s not -“ You cut yourself off with a shake of your head, incredulous laughter threatening to escape as you did. “I don’t want to buy. I was thinking, maybe we could watch a movie or something? I want to watch The Return of the Living Dead but my friends are all chickens. I know you like horror so, I just thought, maybe we could watch it together.”
Eddie blinked, clearly caught off guard, and stilled for what felt like an eternity. In reality, only a moment passed before his lips began to curve into a slow smile. There was mischief glittering in his eyes, a warmth you hadn’t seen from him before, and you knew in that moment that Steve was right. “Are you asking me on a date, princess?”
“I am.” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Eddie’s brows winged up at your blunt acknowledgement. “Are you going to say yes?”
“Fuck yeah,” he agreed, easy and quick as he laughed. “If I ever say no to a date with you, assume I’ve finally lost it. But, uh, you sure about this?”
Eddie glanced across the store - met another pair of warm brown eyes before Steve and Dustin both hurriedly busied themselves with pretending they weren’t attempting to eavesdrop - and you rolled your eyes. He was far from the first person to assume there was more going on between you and Steve than friendship, but you were quick to dispel that line of thinking.
“Completely.” You debated for a moment, curious as to whether you should dig yourself deeper, but the bright glint in Eddie’s eyes - hopeful and delighted - spurred you on. “I’ve kinda had a thing for you for a while,” you admitted, attempting to feign nonchalance as you swiped at a wayward piece of dust on a shelf. His surprise was evident, brows lifting beneath the curl of his hair, but before he could comment, you barreled on. “My parents are out of town. I have to finish my shift,” you began, glancing at the clock above the desk, “but you can come over at, like, seven?”
“Seven, yeah.” Eddie’s agreement was quick, voice a little dreamy - as if he still couldn’t quite believe you’d asked him out, that you were seriously inviting him over or that you’d admitted to having a thing for him. “That sounds good. I, uh, I’ll see you then.”
“Cool, awesome.” You nodded, grinning at him - unable to even feign nonchalance as his smile mirrored your own - before you turned back to the desk. “I’ll see you at seven, then.”
Neither Eddie nor Dustin lingered long after your conversation - the latter, no doubt, leaving with the knowledge of where Eddie would be spending his evening, thanks to his gossiping with Steve. Eddie left with a smile in your direction and you saw his flailing celebration the second he stepped out of the store, even if you dutifully pretended not to noice. 
Steve, however, made it a point to keep the joyous gesture at the forefront of your mind.
For the remaining three hours of your shift, you endured Steve’s teasing. He poked fun at your upcoming date, wondering idly if Eddie would be waiting for you when you arrived home - too excited too wait until seven - or if he’d wear something other than his leather jacket or black t-shirt. But, no matter what he said, you simply rolled your eyes and kept checking the clock every ten minutes.
The time seemed to crawl, passing so slowly that you were half-sure Dustin changed the clocks just to mess with you, but when the hour struck six, you were out the door with a parting wave and a bright ‘thanks’ to Steve for taking on closing duties alone.
There was little time for anything more than a change of clothes and a quick tidying of your home before seven rolled around, but you knew that Eddie wouldn’t really mind. Though there was something about him that made you nervous - excited, giddy, some kind of schoolgirl crush - if you really thought about it, you figured there was little you could do that would truly bother him.
And, thankfully, before you could think too much about it and send yourself spiraling, a knock sounded at the door.
At seven on the dot, you found Eddie standing at your front door. He’d changed - his leather jacket remained, but it covered a nicer shirt instead of the worn Metallica shirt he’d donned earlier in the afternoon - and you could smell the green apple of his shampoo as he grinned at you.
“Hey.” Though he attempted nonchalance with an easy smile, you could see the nervous tension in his shoulders.
Eddie had been burned - you knew that - and he was likely waiting for the catch. There was none, just a desire to get to know him better, and you wanted desperately for him to know that. So you mustered up your widest grin and held the door open for him.
“Hi. Come in.” As he stepped inside, closer than necessary - shoulder brushing yours, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body - you hoped he don’t notice the breath you took to steady yourself. “So, I got Return of the Living Dead and Sleepaway Camp. Not sure if you’ve seen either, but Return is supposed to be amazing and Sleepaway Camp is one of my favorites.”
“I haven’t seen Return yet,” he admitted as you closed the front door, “but I’ve heard good things. Sleepaway Camp, though? This whole time, I thought you were cool.” The jab was teasing, meant entirely in jest and accompanied by a grin, and earned a roll of your eyes as you gestured for him to follow you deeper into the living room.
“I don’t know where you got that idea, but I’m happy to prove you wrong.” Eddie followed, close enough that. He could reach out and touch you, and the idea made your thoughts a little fuzzy as you approached the couch. “I won’t be taking any Sleepaway Camp slander, though. It’s killer.”
Eddie paused, tilted his head and regarded you with furrowed brows and a badly concealed smile as he watched you reach for the tapes. “…was that a really bad pun?”
“I keep getting cooler, I’m aware.” Eddie laughed, unable to conceal his smile any longer, as he took a seat at one end of the couch. “I was going to say we could start with Return since neither of us have seen it but now, you’re going to suffer through Sleepaway Camp first.”
As you placed the tape into the VCR and pressed play, you could hear the shuffling of Eddie tossing his leather jacket onto the chair beside the couch. “Fine by me,” he hummed, a sly grin on his lips as you glanced at him over your shoulder. “Maybe the company will make it better.” When you fixed him with your best unimpressed look - a feat, considering the heat traveling to your cheeks - his grin grew a touch wider. “I keep getting more charming, I’m aware.”
“Wow.” The nervous energy began to dissipate with every teasing jab. You were reminded of how easily you’d always gotten along with Eddie - how easily you’d always been able to converse with him, despite the crush that made you conscious of your every move -  as you approached the couch yourself. “You know, now that you mention it, I never realized…” Warm brown eyes tracked your every move, anticipating - hoping for - a compliment as you took a seat at the opposite end. “… just how big your head was.”
The opening scene began to play, sounds of a B-horror film filling the small space, as he reached for the lamp on the side table. “Big head, big… well, you know how the saying goes,” he teased as he settled deeper into the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I do but I’m pretty sure that is totally not how it starts.”
Eddie shrugged, grin never faltering as he watched you reach for the lamp at your end of the couch. “Same thing. Creative license and all that.”
“Right. All the songwriting and campaign planning, makes sense you get a little creative.” When he tipped his head, seemingly surprised that you knew about both his songwriting and campaign planning, you rolled your eyes. “I’ve had a crush on you for, like, three years. I know things about you, Eddie. And, I mean, I spend time around Dustin Henderson, begrudgingly most of the time, but he talks about you all the time. So, I’ve picked up some things.”
There was a look of something akin to awe on his face as you shifted closer. “You’re pretty, you like horror and metal, and you like me. Why?”
It broke your heart to hear the doubt in his voice - to see the hesitance in his eyes, the residual concern that he was being left out of the joke - and you couldn’t help but sigh as you continued shifting closer to him. “Because you like horror and metal and you’re kinda cool. And, I mean, it doesn’t hurt that you’re kinda hot, too.”
“You know,” he spared the television a glance, “if you didn’t have sort of questionable taste, I’d think this was all too good to be true. But, I’m not gonna question it too much ‘cause you’re kinda cool, too. And definitely hot.”
“Glad to know we’re on the same page, then. Now, are we going to just talk or are you going to allow me to educate you in good horror?”
Eddie’s laughter drowned out a brief moment of dialogue - a line you could easily recite - as he tossed an arm over the back of the couch and shook his head. “‘M sorry. Educate away, princess.”
For a few brief moments, the pair of you settled. Eddie kept his attention on the television - and even cracked a smile or two at some of your favorite moments - while you kept your attention on him. His side profile was captivating, so distracting that you didn’t notice the minutes ticking away as you studied him, and he was kind enough to refrain from pointing out your obvious staring as the film played on.
Though you could feel the rapid beat of your heart, a warmth prickling at your skin as you remained conscious of the fact that you’d finally taken the leap and had a chance to make your move, Eddie seemed unfazed by the proximity as he laughed at a particularly cheesy scene. However, when you shifted closer - body now practically touching his - you caught his sharp inhale.
It brought you a sort of comfort to realize that he was not as unaffected as he seemed, nowhere near as nonchalant about the entire encounter as he wanted you to believe, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tipped your head to look at him.
“Do I make you nervous?”
The question was teasing, a light jab, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Of course you do,” he confirmed with a nod and a laugh as he glanced at you. “You’re smart and cool and hot. You fucking terrify me.”
“Me?” You scoffed, despite yourself, and shook your head. “As if. I’m totally not scary.”
“‘M serious.” Eddie relaxed, if only slightly, and shifted his body to face you fully as his arm fell around your shoulders. “No one had their shit together in high school, but you did. You knew what you wanted and it was kind of intimidating.”
“I definitely did not have my shit together,” you confessed, laughing as you leaned into his embrace. “But I’m glad it looked like I did. Maybe I’m just a good actress.”
“If that’s acting, you should be up for an Oscar, princess.”
As Eddie laughed, a quiet sound that washed over you and filled your chest with a sticky warmth, you shook your head. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know?”
Eddie hummed, a flash of confusion washing over his face, before he asked, “What, princess?”
“Mm. I think if it was anyone else, it would sound condescending. Like they’re trying to be a prick, you know. But I don’t mind it from you,” you confessed. “It’s kinda nice.”
That grin you were beginning to love - genuine, warm, happy - lifted his lips as he shifted once more and knocked your knee with his own. “I’m not a big fan of nicknames, for obvious reasons,” he confided, “but I like it when you call me Eds. It’s kinda cute.”
“God, we’re kinda gross.”
“Totally. But I’m not complaining.” Eddie removed his arm from around your shoulders and brought his hand to cup your cheek. He paused for a moment, studying your face, before he asked, “Does it make me a total loser if I’ve thought about kissing you for, like, ever?”
For a split second, you wondered if he could hear the beat of your heart over the screaming emanating from the television - and if you’d heard him properly over the noise. But when you met his expectant gaze, wide brown eyes waiting for you response, you realized you didn’t really care.
“Only if you keep thinking about it instead of actually doing it.”
With your permission, Eddie leaned in and tentatively pressed his mouth to yours. The kiss was careful, hesitant, but you could feel the underlying excitement as the warmth of his palm bled into your skin. Without thinking, you breathed a contented sigh as you lifted your hands to his hair and tugged him impossibly closer.
The noise of the film continued in the background, unnoticed by either of you as Eddie took the initiative to deepen the kiss. He swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, urging you to open up for him, and you gave in without a moment of hesitation.
As many times as you’d thought about this moment - as many times as you’d pictured yourself in this situation, at the center of Eddie’s attention, with his hands and mouth on you - the reality was infinitely better than any dream. Eddie’s hands were calloused, rough from years of guitar and, now, his work at Thatcher’s, but his touch was featherlight as his hands began to wander.
Gentle fingers brushed along your jaw, dragged down the side of your neck and shoulders, inching lower until they found your waist. Your fingers tangled in his curls, indulging in your long hidden desire to play with his hair, as Eddie pulled away to allow you both a moment to breathe.
“We’re missing the totally not awful movie,” he pointed out, breath fanning over your neck as he dipped his head to nose at your jaw.
“We can rewind it later.” 
Eddie laughed, his smirk evident as he nipped at the hinge of your jaw before lapping at the skin to soothe the brief sting. “Thought you wanted to educate me, princess,” he teased.
Warm hands began to wander, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your t-shirt to brush the heated skin of your waist, as he pressed soft kisses to your neck. Your own hands began to wander as well, dipping to his chest as he latched onto a patch of skin just beneath your ear. 
“Want to kiss you more.”
He hummed, pleased with your answer, as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. Soft brown eyes were blown black and there was a hunger in them that you’d never been privileged enough to see. Now, the sheer weight of his desire hit you all at once as he grinned. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”
Before you could huff, playfully pout at his taunting callback, Eddie reclaimed your lips. This kiss was more heated than the first, hesitance now gone as you realized you both wanted the same thing, and it completely obliterated any remaining thoughts other than how good it felt to have him pressed so close.
Though his hands began to wander, touch fleeting as it dragged across your hips and thighs, over your middle and back to your arms, he remained respectful. As eager as you both were, his hands only fell to your chest when you lifted them there yourself.
Eddie groaned into the kiss the moment you placed his hands, fingers experimentally flexing as you shifted impossibly closer.
“You can touch me however you want,” you allowed, word exhaled against his mouth as you separated just an inch to breathe. “I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t want something.”
“Fuck.” His forehead fell to yours, curls beginning to stick to his forehead with the lightly beading sweat, as he laughed. “Ditto. I’m all yours, princess. Take whatever you want.”
“That’s a dangerous offer.” The hand you’d left on his bicep, fingers tracing the stark black ink of his tattoo, began to wander then. Slowly, you raked the tips of your fingers down his chest - not bothering to hide your grin as he inhaled sharply at the sensation of your fingers raking over his lower stomach - and stopped at the buckle of his belt. “What if I want everything?”
“It’s yours. Been yours,” he admitted, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze met yours once more. “Fuck, you’re all I want, princess. ‘ve been crazy about you for a while.”
“Keep talking like that and you might make me fall in love, Eds.” It was too late - you were already halfway there - and you both knew it. Still, Eddie laughed dutifully as his gaze fell to watch your hands tug at his belt buckle.
“Give me a few hours. I’ve been there, time for you to join me.”
The admission was half-teasing, accompanied by a breathless laugh as you worried with the warm metal beneath your fingers, but it still filled your stomach with a storm of butterflies. The time you’d spent pining over Eddie could’ve been spent lying beneath him, going on dates with him, enjoying time with him, and you were determined to make up for lost time as you tipped your head and pressed your lips to his once more.
“I’m closer than you think.”
Before he could consider your admission too closely, you pulled away and slipped off the couch to kneel between his spread thighs. Those brown eyes went wide, big and disbelieving, as you unbuckled his belt.
“Whoa. Fuck, wait.” Eddie swallowed harshly as he swept his hair from his eyes and glanced down at you. A gentle hand fell to your cheek, urging you to meet his eyes as he blinked away the lust-fueled stupor. “You don’t have to… I mean, I don’t expect you to -“
“Eddie.” He paused, tongue darting out to wet his lips once more, as you cut him off mid-sentence. “You can say no. But I want to. Is that okay?”
Eddie was far from a blushing virgin. You’d heard the rumors, tales of just how talented he was - had even heard the stories of a few trysts from the man himself - but his hesitation gave you pause. However, before you could pull away, he assured you.
“Yeah! Yeah, that’d be - yeah. I’ve had sex. I’ve just… No one has ever… It’s usually a quick fuck and then back to whoever they’re supposed to be dating,” he confessed, pink tinging his cheeks as he hurried to explain himself. “Blowjobs aren’t usually the priority.”
Though you knew Eddie fairly well, enough to have been half-in love with him for a while, you knew his reputation. But to know that others had taken advantage of his desire to love and be loved in return, it made your chest ache. Despite his reputation for being a freak - for being scary, intimidating - you knew that he was a sweetheart who deserved more than he’d been given. And you wanted to show him that you were apply to make him a priority.
“I’d love to be the first, if you’ll let me.”
“Fuck.” Eddie shuddered, his chest heaved with a sharp breath, as he raked a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yeah,” he allowed, “yeah, please.”
Eddie leaned back into the cushions then, allowing himself to relax into the plush of the couch as you popped the button on his jeans. It was obvious just how much he was enjoying the attention - plain to see from the bulge in his jeans and the pink staining his cheeks and neck - and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the sight of him.
“You’re so pretty, Eddie.” It was reverent, a breathless observation as you tugged at the denim and studied the slope of his nose - the curve of his jaw, the wild tangle of his hair - and you meant it wholeheartedly.
“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, princess.” He lifted his hips, allowing you to tug at the denim just enough to expose his boxers - cheeks flushing darker when you bit back a smile at the sight of the blue and white checkerboard pattern.
“Not flattery, just honesty. You’re distracting,” you admitted, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as you began to palm at the bulge in his boxers. “But I wanna see how much prettier you are when you’re falling apart.”
“You’re killing me. Fuck.”
Deciding that he’d had enough teasing, you gave in to the desire and tugged at the final layer of material separating you. The moment you exposed him to the air, you both gasped - him at the sensation of cool air hitting blistering warm skin, you at the sight of him.
Without thought, you spit into your palm before allowing yourself to reach out and experimentally stroke his cock. Eddie groaned at the feeling, his head tipping back and his eyes fluttering shut, and you felt a surge of warmth wash over you. Each noise he made ran straight to your core, fanned the flames of the fire already beginning to burn out of control, and you shifted to allow yourself some relief before leaning in to lap at the bead of precum already beginning to form.
Another noise, this one louder, met your ears as a warm hand fell to your head. He was careful not to push, careful not to attempt to take control, as he sought to anchor himself to the moment but you wouldn’t have minded either way. And as you traced the vein running along the underside of his cock before taking the head between your lips, you could hear him swear beneath his breath.
Though you were tempted to prolong the pleasure, witness him falling apart piece by piece as you slowly worked him up, you were too worked up yourself to do more than take as much of him a you could into your mouth. You knew there would be time to experiment later - time to push yourself to take him all - so you focused on giving him the best experience you could in that moment.
It only took a few moments for his thighs to begin to flex beneath your touch, for his chest to heave and his noises of pleasure to grow louder. And though you could see the hint of embarrassment tinging his cheeks at beginning to fall apart so soon, you felt a surge of pride at your ability to rile him up so completely.
But before you could lift your head and urge him to come, assure him that it was alright, he spoke. “Fuck, princess. I don’t wanna come in your mouth.” Eddie urged you up, then, away from his cock as he attempted to catch his breath and pull himself back from the brink. “Wanna come with you. Can I fuck you?”
The blunt question warmed you from within, stole your breath and had you keening as you nodded eagerly. “Please.” A moan escaped your lips as he reached out to cup your cheek and pull you into a messy kiss that was an eager clash of tongue and teeth.
For a moment, you both lost yourselves in the kiss. Eddie groaned as your hand remained on his cock, fingers stroking slowly as you waited for him to gather himself, only for him to swear as he broke the kiss. “Shit. Fuck, I don’t have a condom,” he lamented, eyes falling shut. “Sorry. Wan’t exactly expecting,” he waved a hand, gesturing to your hand, “this.”
Luckily for the both of you, you still had a stash of condoms - given to you by Steve as a joke the last time you considered asking Eddie out - in your nightstand. “I do,” you revealed, giggling as his shoulders relaxed. “C’mon, pretty boy.”
As you stood, offering Eddie your hand, he groaned once more. “Is it your goal to kill me, princess? Because I think you might actually kill me.”
“What a way to go, though, hm?”
Eddie stood, quickly tugged his jeans up but left them unbuttoned, and followed close behind as you led him up the stairs, his hand warm in yours. You could feel his body heat radiating, could hear his shallow breathing as he attempted to even it out, and you were secretly satisfied to know that you had such an impact on him.
Even more, however, you were thrilled to know that you were only moments away from getting what you wanted.
With quick steps, you tugged him down the hall and into your bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as you entered. Once inside, Eddie paused for a moment to take in the sight.
“You know, I was expecting a Tom Cruise poster,” he teased, laughing only slightly when instead he saw Nikki Sixx.
“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for pretty, dark-haired metalheads.”
A smirk quirked his mouth as he tugged you close, hands falling to your waist as he dipped his head to capture your lips. The kiss was eager, uncoordinated and messy but breathtaking as his hands began to wander. Deft fingers flitted to the button of your jeans, and after a moment of hesitation, popped them open.
“If you want to stop, we can,” he reminded you, fingers ghosting along the sliver of skin just above your jeans. “We totally don’t have to do this.”
“You’re incredibly sweet, Eds.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands drifting to his hair to tug at the curls as you met his gaze. “But if you don’t fuck me, I might cry and I don’t feel like crying tonight.”
Eddie grinned, glad you were as eager as he was, and hummed as his fingers began to drift lower. “Can’t have you crying on my watch, princess. ‘Less they’re good, ‘I totally fucked you stupid’ tears.”
“I mean, if you’re up to the challenge, then by all means.”
Though it might’ve been the wrong thing to say, a taunt you would later regret, he took the challenge for what it was worth. There was a determined glint in his eyes, a burning desire that tied your stomach in knots, and it was burned into your field of view as he pressed his mouth to yours once more.
For a moment, you weren’t certain which sensation to focus on as Eddie’s tongue licked at the seam of your lips and his fingers ghosted over the cotton of your panties. However, he drew your full, undivided attention as he nudged the fabric aside and swiped his fingers through your slick folds.
A hum of encouragement met your ears as Eddie coated his fingers in your slick, teasing for just a moment before he found the sensitive bundle of nerves. With his lips a fraction of an inch from yours, he asked, “This all from blowing me?”
It was incredulous, almost as if he couldn’t believe it, but you hummed. “Thought about it for ages. Reality was better.”
“Don’t think I’ll last long enough to return the favor right now,” he confessed, breath fanning across your lips as he rubbed lazy circles over the bundle of nerves, “but I’ve gotta taste you before tonight’s over. Got myself off so many times thinking about it, ‘bout you.”
Eddie grinned at the moan you released, at the way you sagged against him - unable to hold yourself entirely upright with the promise of him between your thighs, the thought of him touching himself to that image. “You sure you’re not trying to kill me?”
“What a way to go.” He lingered, just for a second, before Eddie pulled away and shushed your whine with a press of his mouth to yours. “I’m gonna come in my jeans if I don’t get inside you soon, princess. Promise to take my time with you later. Gonna give you everything you deserve, treat you right.”
“Ditto.” He laughed, amused and flattered in equal measure, as he began to tug at his clothes. Encouraged, you followed suit and, soon enough, a pile of garments littered your bedroom floor.
However, neither of you dwelled on the sight for long as you headed for the bed, stopping only to retrieve a foil packet from the bedside drawer.
Every dream encounter you shared with Eddie varied - sometimes he was soft, other times he manhandled you exactly the way you wanted; sometimes he was quick, others he teased for hours - but nothing lived up to the reality of having him climb into your bed after you.
This encounter would be quick and dirty, a desperate search for relief, but you knew that it was only the first of many. And, encouraged by the future that now seemed so clear, you reached out and tugged him into you.
Lithe arms braced themselves at either side of your head, tattoos stark against his pale skin, and you hummed as you decided you would someday spend as much time as he’d allow you committing them to memory. But that could wait. For now, you simply savored the weight of him above you and tangled your fingers in his hair as he positioned himself at your entrance.
“Haven’t even gotten inside and I already can’t wait to do this again,” he confessed, dipping his head to nip at the hinge of your jaw. “And again. And again. I’m already ruined for you, princess.”
Before you could confess the same sentiment, admit your utter ruin at his hands, he pressed his hips forward and began to sink into you. The stretch was bearable, a tinge of discomfort completely overshadowed by the warmth of his skin against yours - the weight of his body pressed to yours, the nip of his teeth at your jaw - and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.
Eddie stilled for a few long moments, hands stroking at whatever skin he could reach - your hips, your thighs, your stomach - as he breathed reverent nonsense. The words blurred, compliments and awed whispers of how good you felt, but it paled in comparison to the moan he released when you yanked at his curls and begged for him to finally move.
The pace he set was blistering, deep and quick and perfect, and you marveled at how right his touch felt. Every snap of his hips, every brush of his mouth against your skin, every whispered word of praise; it felt as if each was a puzzle piece, suddenly falling into place.
Though he took great care to ensure your pleasure, he made no attempt to treat you like a doll, like something that might shatter beneath his touch, and you were grateful for the heavy press of his hands to your skin as he pawed at your thighs. Almost immediately, you understood one another - both quickly fell into step beside one another - and you felt the flames he’d been fanning begin to grow out of control.
Heat engulfed you, body burning with every swipe of his fingers and snap of his hips, and it grew harder to draw your breath as his fingers found your clit. Eddie nipped at your jaw, breath fanning over your skin and sending goosebumps erupting, as he encouraged, “Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you.”
With anyone else, you might’ve been embarrassed at how quickly you barreled toward your release - at how eager you were to give in and come just because he asked - but this was Eddie. Anything he wanted, you would at least consider, and your body knew it well. So with a few swipes of his fingers and another snap of his hips, you barreled over the edge with a cry of his name.
Almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting for you, he followed suit. One, two, three snaps of his hips before he buried his face in the crook of your neck and came with a moan that you knew would play on a loop in your happiest of dreams. 
For a few moments after, you both lay still - Eddie with his head buried in the crook of your neck, hands still stroking your heated skin; you, with your eyes shut and lips parted as you caught your breath, fingers raking through his curls. It was blissful, a moment you’d dreamt about, but the dream was interrupted by reality as discomfort began to set in.
When you began to squirm, Eddie quickly pulled away - pulled out and cooed when you whimpered at the loss - and tossed the used condom into the bin beside your bed before returning to lay beside you. He pulled you close, wrapped his arms around you and tugged you into his chest, and you both lay in silence for a long moment before he spoke.
“So, you wanna actually watch those movies now?”
With a laugh, you tipped your head and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Mm. Give me a minute. Gotta return to the land of the living first.”
“Take your time, princess. When you do, though, maybe you can return as my girlfriend.”
Eddie could almost certainly feel your smile, grin bright and happy as you hummed against his skin. “Yeah,” you agreed easily, not bothering to hide the giddiness you felt, “I think that can be arranged.”
Though it wasn’t how you pictured your evening, you knew it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. And, while Steve would be annoying, you couldn’t wait to venture back into the world with your boyfriend by your side.
__________________________________________________
Author's Note: Take this away from me. I've been working on this forever but got stuck on the smut.
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notafunkiller · 4 months
Text
tying you to me
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Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.
Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader
Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 5.2K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.
“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.
“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”
Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”
“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”
“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.
“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”
He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…
“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”
“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”
“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”
“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.
“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”
“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”
Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”
“Night...”
*
The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.
You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.
“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”
“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.
Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”
You shake your head weakly.
“Look, I-”
“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”
You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”
The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.
“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.
What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?
“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”
“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”
“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”
“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”
You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.
“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”
“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”
“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”
“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”
“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”
Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”
“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”
“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”
“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”
You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.
“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.
He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.
“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”
“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.
He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...
“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”
“Then what is it?” You're confused.
“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.
“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”
“I... I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Deal with this... with you.”
“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”
“I just... struggle with change.”
“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.
“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”
“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”
“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”
You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”
“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”
You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”
“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”
“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.
“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”
Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.
“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”
“W-what? No!”
“No?”
“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”
You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?
“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”
Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.
But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.
“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.
He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.
You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.
“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”
He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.
“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.
“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”
He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.
You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.
“For you. This is all for you.”
Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!
“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.
“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.
“James!”
But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.
You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.
He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.
You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.
“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.
He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.
“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.
“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.
“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”
You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.
“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.
“You didn’t take them off.”
“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”
You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.
“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”
You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.
“James-”
“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”
You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”
Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.
“Good boy.”
That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:
“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”
“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”
That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.
He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.
“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”
Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.
“You got a kink for my arm now?”
“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.
When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.
“You shave,” you say, surprised.
“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”
You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.
You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.
“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.
“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“W-what?”
“Hands behind your back.”
“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.
“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”
No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.
You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.
He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.
“Too tight?”
“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.
“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”
You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.
“Words, please.”
“Yes, James.”
“Good girl.”
You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...
You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.
“Are you clean? Anything-”
“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”
You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.
“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.
“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”
You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?
You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.
“Won’t the neighbor mind?”
“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.
“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”
You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!
“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”
You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.
He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.
“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.
“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”
“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”
“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”
“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”
You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”
You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.
“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”
He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.
That hot ass…
“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”
And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.
“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”
He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.
You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.
“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”
You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.
“J-James...”
He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.
“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.
“Barnes, you’re heavy!”
His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.
Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.
“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.
After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.
“Gonna buy some cream.”
You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”
Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”
“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.
“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.
“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”
He doesn’t laugh.
“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”
“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.
“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”
“Put it on, it’s freezing.”
“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.
“On.”
“Fine!”
He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”
You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.
“Really?”
“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”
You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”
“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”
“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”
You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”
“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”
“Me.”
“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”
“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”
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Text
“I don’t think I’m straight.”
Steve had reached that conclusion exactly ten seconds before saying it out loud. Laying upside down on the couch of his house with his best friend draping her legs on top of him.
“Is that what you were thinking about?” Robin asked, not lifting her eyes from her book.
“Yeah, it just makes sense.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Steve hummed thoughtfully. Did he want to talk about it? Was it important enough? Did it change anything?
“I feel the same,” he said. “I thought being gay would feel different.” For a second, Steve was sure Robin would tell him that was a stupid thing to think.
“Are you gay?” Robin asked instead, because she is Robin. She was able to ask something in a judgemental tone without being judgy.
“I'm not straight.” he repeated.
“Pretty sure there are more than two options.” She explained with a joking tone. It was lucky, she thought, that she found a zine hidden in a library when she visited her aunt in Indianapolis.
“How do I know what I am?”
“I don't know, actually,” she said, putting her book down. “I've never seen what the big deal with men is.” Robin explained, crossing her arms. “That's how I knew.”
“I definitely see the big deal with women,” Steve responded simply.
“What about men?”
“I think I always saw the big deal, I just pretended it did not exist.” Steve explained.
“Oh, sweet old denial.” She teased. “How do you feel about this?”
“I would feel better if I had better taste.” Steve deadpanned, causing Robin to laugh and kick him. He slid out of the sofa dramatically to the floor. “Kicking me while I'm most vulnerable, Buckley? I see your game.”
“I have been bidding my time to find your weak spot, Harrington.” Robin joked lightly, jabbing Steve’s legs with her foot. “You will fall, Steven!”
Steve retaliated by pulling her into the floor.
“Look who's falling now?”
“Whatever,” Robin pushed herself to sit upward, sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa. Steve mimicked her with his back against the coffee table. “Who is the guy?” she asked.
“I don't wanna tell you,” Steve whispered, more out of respect for their tradition than anything else. “You’ll make fun of me.”
“Of course I will,” she whispered back. Steve reached for her hand to intertwine their fingers and she held him without batting an eye. “That’s kinda my job as your soulmate.” Steve chuckled. “I have to make sure whoever it is doesn’t mess up our vibe, you know?” He didn’t.
“I’m sure he won’t."
"Are you really gonna make me guess?" Steve lit up at the suggestion. Before he could speak, Robin continued "I'm not gonna guess, just tell me."
"Are you afraid of getting it wrong and looking like a fool?" He teased.
"It's Eddie." She answered less than a second later.
Steve did not respond, shocked at her quick response.
"Who's the fool now, Steve?" The smile on her face was infectious to Steve, who poker her with his foot.
"How did you do that?"
"By having eyes."
"What do you think?" She closed her eyes and hummed as Steve waited for her response.
"I think he looks at you the same way you look at him."
"I should ask him out."
"I can be your wingman!" She exclaimed.
"Oh, my god, yes!"
"We have to make a plan," Robin yelled. She jumped to her feet, letting go of Steve's hand, and dashed up the stairs. "I'm going to get some paper."
Steve stayed behind, sitting more comfortably on the floor, and removing the magazines they had on the coffee table off.
They made a plan, that ended in more of a disaster which is a story for another time. There is only one thing that is important.
Eddie said yes.
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meangirls-imagines · 2 months
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Regina's Protector
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WARNINGS: none, fluff, a lil violence (you slap cady), protective reader
cady heron.
the bane of y/n y/l/n's existence. 
you see, y/n had a reputation for being nice and friendly to everyone at north shore. that's why she balanced her girlfriend regina out so well. regina was the fire and y/n was the ice. the two had started dating early in their freshman year and quickly became the school's power couple.
the two were very protective of each other, regina lashing out more than y/n most of the time, but there had been a few of times that everyone witnessed just how protective y/n can be. (just ask shane or aaron or jake). 
enter cady heron. the new girl of junior year. this is where things take a turn.
y/n had a bad feeling about the redhead the first time she met her. especially when she caught a glimpse of her hanging out with janis. the bad feeling increased the first day they were in class together and cady began staring at her with heart eyes.
regina knew y/n wouldn't cheat on her. they were obsessed with each other, but the more cady hang out with their group, the more she noticed cady staring at her girlfriend. maybe y/n was right about this bad feeling about the girl. but, regina couldn't jump to conclusions just yet, she wanted to wait it out.
well, waiting it out was an awful idea on regina's part. 
shit went downhill very, very quickly. 
after cady continued to send heart eyes to y/n, regina had enough and became extra possessive of her girlfriend. cady wasn't backing down however, becoming more of a bitch as the days went on. she began to say sly remarks to y/n about regina, like how she was only with y/n for popularity and status. 
then the comments got bitchier. 
"you know, i thought i saw regina getting a little too close to shane again, you might wanna check your girlfriend, y/n."
"i heard regina is going around gloating about how she's only using you for sex."
y/n was a very small strike away from snapping. she knew the comments were affecting regina more than she let on and the fact that cady continued to make them, pissed y/n off to another degree. the day that y/n snapped, no one was expecting it.
y/n's friend chris was throwing a party at his house so her and regina were going together. it was a pool party so regina made sure to pick y/n's favorite of her bikinis to show off to her girlfriend. when they got to the party, they found karen, gretchen, and unfortunately cady. y/n set off to get her and regina drinks, kissing the girl softly before beginning her search.
after getting herself a beer and regina something fruity, she turned and saw cady looking at her, biting her lip. "can i help you with something cady?" the redhead shook her head. "just wanted to talk. you look really hot y/n." 
y/n rolled her eyes and set back to find her girlfriend. cady followed after the girl. "why are you with regina? you could do so much better than her." y/n stopped in her tracks, turning to cady. "excuse me?" cady shrugged. "i mean, you could go for someone skinnier, i see regina has put on a few extra pounds lately."
the next few seconds happened very quickly.
the drinks were dropped and y/n slapped cady right across the face. she began to spew off insults at the redhead. luckily, chris was near by and pulled y/n away before more damage could be done.
kicking cady out, he led y/n back to where the plastics were sunbathing, explaining what happened while making y/n sit on regina's sun lounger. the blonde immediately pulled y/n closer to her, rubbing her back in an effort to calm her down. 
karen and gretchen joined in on the hug, y/n smiling at the two. chris walked off, allowing the girls to have some privacy. 
regina and y/n decided to leave shortly after, regina wanting to get y/n to destress. karen and gretchen hugged the two, promising to be over later and the couple left.
once back at regina's house, the blonde changed into comfier clothes, pulling some out for y/n. the girl took them, pecked regina on the lips and went to change. the two laid in bed, netflix playing gently in the background. regina leaned up to kiss y/n's cheek.
"thank you for standing up for me baby. i appreciate it." y/n kissed the blonde's forehead, rubbing her arm. "of course baby. i wasn't going to let her talk about you like that." regina smiled and softly kissed y/n. "i'm so glad i have you baby." y/n smiled. "well, you'll have me for a very long time then baby. i don't plan on going anywhere."
regina smirked. "good. i intend on keeping you forever." 
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mapiforpresident · 1 month
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Claudia Pina Angst pls! (Or literally anything Claudia Pina! ❤️🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽
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How Could You Do This Part 1
Claudia Pina x reader
warnings: angst
Summary: You find out your girlfriend is cheating on you
Not proof read so let me know if you see any mistakes.
~~~
You were scrolling through TikTok on your girlfriend's phone, patiently waiting for her to finish her Cupra interview. Since your phone had died, Claudia had kindly lent you hers to stave off boredom during the wait.
Halfway through watching a hilarious dog video, a text from Patri popped up, catching your attention before you could swipe it away. It read, "just tell her before she finds out." Confusion washed over you as you tried to decipher whom or what Patri was referring to. Another text appeared, stating, "Y/n will be so mad once she finds out. Hopefully she doesn't break up with you. At the very least, you might be sleeping on your new couch for a week."
What could Patri possibly be talking about? It seemed clear that Claudia was keeping something from you, something she knew she shouldn't. Your mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that Claudia was cheating on you. You and your girlfriend had always prided yourselves on honesty, promising never to keep secrets from each other. Thus, you couldn't fathom what else she could be hiding.
Though hesitant, you couldn't resist the urge to snoop. Clicking on Patri's message, you hoped to uncover the mystery. Initially, the conversation consisted of random memes and funny videos they'd exchanged, but you stumbled upon a series of texts from two days ago that piqued your interest.
Patri: Did you meet up with the girl today?
Pina: Yeah, she was awesome. I can't wait to see her again.
Patri: That's great! I'm glad you found someone better.
Pina: Yeah, me too. Y/n is going to murder me when she finds out though. I need to tell her soon.
Patri: Take her to a nice dinner and then try to break the news.
Pina: I might. I keep trying, but every time I go to mention it, I chicken out. I don't want her to be upset.
Recalling the fancy dinner Claudia had taken you out to the previous night, her nervous demeanor suddenly made sense. You had assumed it was related to her upcoming interview, as she never enjoyed media engagements. It was unfathomable to think that she had started seeing someone else, especially with Patri's encouragement. A whirlwind of thoughts flooded your mind. Your girlfriend of over three years was cheating on you. Feeling overwhelmed, you dropped the phone onto the chair and rushed out of the room. Claudia remained engrossed in her interview, oblivious to your sudden departure.
You raced down the training ground hallway until you found a bathroom, locking yourself in the first stall, overcome by sobs. How could Claudia betray your trust like this? You believed you had the perfect relationship, and just that morning, she had seemed so deeply in love with you. She had made you breakfast and cuddled with you on the couch until the last possible moment before you had to leave. She had always been affectionate, constantly holding and kissing you. You were at a loss, unable to comprehend what you had done wrong.
"Y/n, is that you in there? What's wrong? What happened? Do you want me to get Claudia?" It was Alexia's voice. You hadn't heard her enter the bathroom.
"No, no, don't get Claudia," you called out desperately.
"Why? What happened? Did she do something? Let me in." Alexia was very confused at this point because whenever you were sad or hurt or upset, you immediately asked for Claudia, and Claudia always immediately came to your side no matter what she was doing.
You silently unlocked the door as Alexia squatted down in front of you. When she saw your tear-stained face but no visible injury, she decided to try and help you up, knowing you were physically fine. "Oh, bebita, what happened?"
Alexia now had you standing and hugged you tightly as she tried to get you to calm down enough to explain what had made you so upset.
"Clau... Clau..."
"It's okay, it will be okay. Take some deep breaths for me." You did as Alexia told you, trying to take a few deep breaths as your sobs turned into sniffles.
"Clau... she cheated... she told Patri... that she... found a better girl... she said she met up with her," you choked out as Alexia started to look furious. She loved Claudia, but if this was true, then she wouldn't hesitate to confront her.
"Did she tell you this? Did Patri?"
"No... I saw their text messages... I was just TikToking while she had her interview."
"God, I am going to kill them both. You are coming to stay at my place tonight. I will text Olga to make up the spare room. I am going to have a talk with Claudia tomorrow and then Patri. I will bring Mapi too." Alexia was basically talking to herself at this point as she led you to the locker room to quickly grab her things.
Just as she was about to lead you towards the door to leave, Claudia burst through.
"There you are, amor, what happened? I couldn't find you anywhere. Are you ready..."
"Get out," Alexia said in her loud, stern voice.
"What... what happened? Is y/n okay..."
"Get out now," Alexia said again. "Don't ever come near y/n again, I swear, Claudia."
Neither you nor Claudia had ever seen your captain look so angry and so disappointed. Claudia was stunned; she had no idea how to react. She turned and ran out the door, not knowing where she was going. What did she do wrong? She didn't think she had done anything wrong, but you had clearly been crying, and Alexia looked furious, so she must have done something.
~~~
Claudia ran out onto the pitch and grabbed a bag of balls laying off to the side. Everyone had already left, but she didn't want to leave until she figured out what she did wrong.
She took penalty after penalty until her leg could barely kick the ball into the net. She finally decided to go to her best friend for help, maybe Patri could help her figure out what she had done wrong.
It was well past the sun going down as she pulled into the parking lot of Patri's apartment complex. Patri was shocked at hearing the knock and opening the door to reveal the most sad she thinks she had ever seen Claudia.
"Hey Claudia, what happened, aren't you supposed to be at the movies with y/n tonight. She's been waiting for it to come out for months." Patri said as she moved to let Claudia into her apartment, but before Claudia could fully enter she broke down.
"I messed up, I don't know what I did. We were fine this morning, but after I got done with my interview she was gone and... and... and... then I went to go find her and she was crying in Alexia's arms. Alexia told me to get out. I have never seen her that angry before and y/n wouldn't even look at me. I don't know what I did wrong. I don't know what to do. Y/n and Alexia won't answer my calls or texts and..." Claudia ranted so fast that Patri could barely keep up.
"Hey, hey, hey slow down, everything will be ok. You and y/n love each other ok. recount your steps, there is nothing that you could have done to upset her?" Patri asked as they sat down on the couch, Claudia with her head in her hands.
~~~
Thirty minutes later Claudia stood nervously outside of Alexia's door with flowers and your favorite chocolate. She wanted to come talk to you knowing that you were most likely here. She wanted to figure out what she did wrong and how she could make it up to you.
Alexia opened the door thinking it was the food she ordered for takeout. "Hello thank ... oh Claudia." Alexia's voice immediately changed from nice and friendly to annoyance and verging on rude.
"Please leave you are not welcome her. Y/n does not want to hear from you or see you again outside of practice."
"But... but what did I do. I didn't do anything wrong. I love her please Alexia just let me talk to her," Claudia begging while trying to remain calm and not let her tears fall in front of her captain.
"Go. Now. Before I call the cops." Alexia slammed the door in the face of the girl she once thought of as a little sister. Claudia didn't know what to do so she just called Patri as she got back in her car.
"I lost her. I lost her," Pina says as she sobs on the phone.
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rsmura · 3 months
Text
calling them bro ୨୧ enhypen
( bookshelf ) genre fluff, crack pairing enha x fem reader word count 0.7k warnings skinship, petnames, not proofread
a/n as your bf.
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heeseung wouldn't think you were talking to him, but one of your friends. after hearing 'bro look at what i sent you!', he stands up to leave the room, one of his habits he does whenever you're on the phone with someone to give you privacy. you would notice and call him back, to which he would slowly turn his head, walking towards you. "babe did you just call me bro? what if i call you sis? so we're sibling-zoning each other now?" and when you guys go out later, he would be pecking your lips while calling you sis, which arches some ongoers' brows.
jay would malfunction and freeze up upon hearing this never heard petname. he would be washing the dishes and hear 'bro why did we use so many plates?', which would result in him freezing, letting go of the plate as it clashes into the sink and his jaw would drop. "what?", he would completely forget about the dishwashing, and rather now about what had just come out of your mouth. "no, you better take that back yn.". as you run away from the kitchen cackling, jay runs after you, tripping over air in the process of him rushing to get you.
rest under cut !
jake would be kind of sad, immediately jumping to conclusions and thinking you lost feelings for him, now calling him your friend. after hearing the word 'bro', he would follow you around the whole house like a lost puppy, with the sad jutted pout displayed on his lips - he doesn't really acknowledge the fact that you called him bro, he just wants to know what he did that made you lose feelings for him. after reassuring jake, he would become even poutier, if that was possible, after remembering what you had called him. "please don't call me bro ever again, i don't like it."
sunghoon, like his nickname ice prince, wouldn't show any particular reaction to the friendzoned petname, but internally he's screaming and begging you to call him babe again. he'd probably be a little shocked, sitting down to reanalyse the situation; but then would end up teasing you, returning the same nickname for you, which he knows you hate. "you're so pretty bro.". he wouldn't stop until you finally give in, calling him sweet endearments again, to which he'll, after a long time, give you a full smile with his eyes turning into crescents.
sunoo is someone that easily expresses his opinions with his facial expressions. alongside with the facial expressions, he will blurt out whatever he wants to say. so when you called him bro, you best believe he gives you the most judgemental face ever. “yn girl. are you possessed? alright in the head maybe?” you’d answer that you’re completely fine, and tell him not to worry - which instead of replying with love, you call him bro once again. “yea, you’re not okay. i should send you to a doctor.” aside from the jokes, he would ask you to not call him bro again as it hurts him a little bit to be ‘friendzoned’, even while in a relationship.
jungwon wouldn't even notice you were talking to him at first. you were both laying on the couch, your head on his lap as you both watch the drama series in front of you. he'd genuinely be so intrigued by it that you'd have to slap his arm multiple times to gain his attention. 'bro did you seriously not hear me?' would repeat in his head after it comes out your mouth. in his mind, his head would be spinning, trying to replay the scene and confirm you just said what he thought you did - in real life, his eyes would be bulging out his eye sockets, and he stutters on a few words before regaining composure. "do not. call me. bro. understood?"
riki would be such a tease. similar to sunghoon, he would DEFINITELY call you bro back. he wouldn’t feel sad that you aren’t calling him babe, baby, etc. perhaps it’s just his natural love language, but he would genuinely feel like bro is such a funny yet romantic way to call your boyfriend. at the same time, he might feel a bit clingy, wanting to have your full attention, hence why he would smother your entire face with little kisses, making sure to include the ‘muah’ sound with it. “baby, as much as i love you, you should definitely call me that again. okay…. bro?” he would giggle after you send him a deadpan face.
taglist open @euncsace @ibsysbsfsunsbs @misouer networks @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels
© rsmura
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mournings-stars · 2 months
Text
Lute x Charlie’s Best Friend
from this request by @lixanjewel
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i may need to make a part two cus i kinda love this little enemies to lovers flirtation-situation-ship
this is a fem reader but i’ll happily write anything else as well!! :)
A meeting in Heaven was never something you expected. And you certainly didn’t expect Charlie to ask you to come with her — sure, you’d known each other since you were kids, and sure, you were the first person to support her ideas before Vaggie, and sure, you did a lot of planning…
Maybe you did have a right to go with them—
“Of course you do!” Charlie snapped you out of your thoughts as she packed her suitcase, yours (a backpack) packed and in your hands as you waited for her while you, apparently, thought out loud. “We’re gonna have so much fun!” She was bouncing in place, shutting her suitcase before she turned to you. “And you are gonna be so proud of yourself when we show them this dream is real! I couldn’t have done this without you!” You gave her a small smile before Vaggie came in. “Either of you!”
The rest of the morning was spent saying goodbye, getting that one wall destroyed, and sending your friends off with the person who destroyed it before you entered the portal to Heaven.
After making it past the gates, meeting Saint Peter, Sera, and Emily, you were touring with Charlie while Vaggie stayed at the hotel, the trip seeming to be taking a toll on her. To put it simply, she was in an awful mood, looking like she was going to be sick.
“Look, look, look!” Charlie squealed, pointing at a very fluffy white animal as she grabbed your arm.
That was how your entire trip to the zoo went before you got lunch with Emily, who was the one showing you around. She got the two of you food and drinks and when you went to sit, you cautiously excused yourself to continue looking around while they talked.
You took your drink with you as you walked the promenade, taking in the environment. It made you wonder what it’d be like if things were different — if you were born in Heaven rather than Hell.
“Enjoying your visit?” You were startled out of your thoughts by a girl dressed in all grey. Even her blunt cut hair was a pale grey. You recognized the uniform as an exorcist’s, but you had half a mind to think you were jumping to conclusions without the horns and X over her eye to prove it, but her eyes were gold — and they look far too warm to be so menacing. “Lute,” she introduced before the silence became awkward, sticking her hand out.
“Pretty,” was the first thing that came to your mind. She raised a very judgmental brow at you. “I meant your name… is pretty — well, actually, no, that’s not what I meant, but it is… pretty — like the instrument.” Her brow relaxed, and you sighed, feeling less like Charlie and her bundle of excited nerves and more like yourself and your internal bundle of excited nerves. You introduced yourself and took her hand, shaking with a smile. “I’m usually not so nervous,” you said.
“New environment,” she shrugged. “Why don’t we walk,” she suggested and brought her hand to your back to turn you in the direction you’d been going before she stopped you. “I thought only two of you were coming.”
“Charlie asked me to go with her for moral support.” Lute nodded along. “Childhood friends and all…”
“You’re Hell-born, then,” it was more of a statement than a question, but you nodded anyway. “Shame,” she muttered. “Maybe her little redemption idea could’ve actually worked with you.”
You paused. Surely, she was insulting you. “I should’ve realized,” you said, taking a second look at this angel. She wasn’t just a pretty girl wearing a uniform that resembled an exorcist uniform; it was an exorcist uniform and their LED light masks came with artificial horns. That meant if she knew about the reason for your visit, she was the one that was there during Charlie’s first meeting. And suddenly, the name, “Lute,” sounded very familiar from one of Charlie’s rants.
“I did introduce myself,” she said haughtily, “not that I expect a low-class demon to pick up context clues—“
“Oh, shut up,” you groaned. Her very pretty eyes, which looked like gold, now looked like… corn — or something — (it was the meanest thing you could think of), and her very pretty name, which sounded like music, now sounded like some kind of crime you would expect from an exorcist angel.
Lute laughed, taking pause for a moment before she did and nearly doubling over as she walked with you.
“Are you insane?” You asked with a sneer that made her laugh harder.
“No one’s ever told me to shut up like that.” She calmed herself down, snickering to herself. “Insane,” she laughed. “You must be, thinking you can speak to an angel like that.”
“Must be.”
And despite that, she kept walking with you. Neither of you knew where you were walking toward, but you kept walking anyway, her with her nose in the air and a pompous smile, and you looking anywhere but at her.
Finally, you broke the silence, “Were you following me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Orders.”
“Why me?”
“Orders,” she emphasized like you were stupid.
“I heard you,” you mocked her tone. “But why the orders to follow me?” Then a very snarky idea popped into your mind as you smirked at her. “Unless you just blindly follow orders like some little bitch on a leash—“
“Do you want to die?”
It was your turn to laugh, shrugging. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”
That, she didn’t respond to. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked away. “Adam wanted to know why you were actually here, seeing as the hearing only includes the princess and her…” She waved her hand dismissively, a look of disgust on her face.
“Partner?”
She shook her head, scoffing. “That relationship is vile.”
You scoffed the same. “Is that something that keeps people out of Heaven, too?” You asked curiously, thinking of the many sinners you knew who seemed nice enough. “Vile relationships like theirs?” Lute frowned at you, looking confused.
“Oh, right,” she said, like she knew something you didn’t, and laughed. “You think I mean because they’re both girls, but thats not it.”
“It’s not?” You raised a brow and took a very long sip of your drink.
“Of course not. They just disgust me.” You laughed ironically, seeing no other answer for her hatred. “I don’t care how they choose to live their lives,” she insisted.
“You don’t need to convince me. We all have our assumptions of what Heaven thinks of people like us. I’m sure some of the… what do you call them? Winners? Said the same things when they were alive.”
Lute looked very uncomfortable, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at the floor. “No one who thinks like that would be allowed into Heaven.”
“Doubt it. Did you have orders to talk to me, too?” You moved on quickly, making her chew the inside of her cheek.
“Unfortunately.” She huffed. “You do a lot of the princess’ research, don’t you?” You hummed. “Interviews?”
“I don’t like talking to people—“
“Clearly—“
“—who don’t like talking to me.”
“I can tell.” Her uncomfortable expression dropped and she laughed under her breath. “I’m glad I won't have to see you in court later. I don’t know how I’d respond to your accusatory defense.”
“Good thing Charlie didn’t want to take my advice for this, then.”
And Lute stopped walking very abruptly. She gave you a very kind smile and said, “I enjoyed our chat. Thanks for your time.” She looked very pleased, like she made you admit something to help her case.
“You’re welcome for the information,” you said lamely. “Charlie will achieve what she wants, Lute,” you said as she began to walk away.
“Not without your help,” and when she said your name, you quickly turned away from her golden eyes staring you down and walked back to Charlie and Emily.
There was absolutely no way you were about to (extremely gayly) overthink what was barely a conversation with a girl you didn’t like because of one sentence that wasn’t even a compliment.
Absolutely not. No way. Not happening—
“What girl is it this time?” You nearly shrieked when you heard Charlie, having walked all the way back to her and Emily where they were laughing.
“Charlie told me you have a talent for falling in love,” Emily giggled with Charlie. “Did you meet someone?”
“Or are you just talking to yourself?” Charlie teased, laughing.
Of course, all you could think to say was, “shut up,” which made you think back to the not-conversation you had with Lute. “Don’t we have a hearing to prepare for, or something?!”
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jazzyoranges · 4 months
Text
Recognizeable
Wednesday Addams x fem!shapeshifter!reader
Summary: based on this ask!
Words: 1.4k
A/n: this kinda doesn’t have a plot 😭 whoopsies
Warnings: blood, wounds, i swear it’s not angsty R just takes a small tumble lol
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“Did it hurt?”
“What, when I fell from heaven?” You crack a smile at your very hilarious joke, but Wednesday does her version of a huff and an eye-roll
“Apologies, I should have elaborated better.” You wince a little in pain as Wednesday disinfects the open wound on your knee and the smaller cuts around your body
The Addams girl was taking Thing and her pet bird, aka you, for a walk outside Nevermore in the forest that surrounded the academy as she watched you loop around in circles. She’d assume you were training for some competition if she didn’t know your personality enough, but Wednesday ultimately came to the conclusion you just had the bird equivalent of zoomies
You squawked at other birds as you passed them by in their trees, and Wednesday made a mental note to ask you if you could actually talk and understand them. Her hypothesis was that you couldn’t and you were just making animal noises for your own amusement
Either her hypothesis was true and you had no idea what you said, or you knowingly called a bird a slur. The previous was probably true due to the horrified expression on your face as a murder of crows you were “talking” to started chasing you down. You must’ve squawked something real bad for all of them to come after you.
You miss the smirk Wednesday has on her face.
The crows must’ve overwhelmed you pretty bad, because next thing she knew you were hitting every single branch of a tree in human form. Was that intentional? She’d have to ask you about it later. After she made sure you weren’t dead, of course
Wednesday arrived just in time for you to almost slam straight into her head, but a simple side step caused you to eat shit instead. There was a very noticeable and loud thump when your head hit a tree root. Wednesday would’ve been more concerned if you didn’t immediately curl into the fetal position, mumbling about how you’d take a nap right then and there
Either shapeshifters were gods, or you just had a really fucking thick skull. Wednesday internally smiled at the thought.
The Addams girl was well aware of the smelling salts in her backpack for times like these, but she looked at Thing for what he wanted to do to get you up. You could wait… probably.
After some inspection, Thing decided it was best to call Enid to carry you back to their dorm. The wound on your knee would only make you limp and cause more pain.
Wednesday made sure to keep you alive, though. She poked you with a stick here and there and gave you reassurance, which she saw you smile at.
You were prone to accidents. Both of the Addams knew you were fine. Truly, it was just another Tuesday. Wake up, go to class, take girlfriend and Thing on a walk, you break a bone, it was all a part of the schedule
It wasn’t even a shapeshifter thing either, you just refused to die. Which the Addams was ultimately grateful for, but your ability to visit death like a close friend had Wednesday just a little jealous
A groan of pain from the back of your throat brings the shorter girl back to the present
“Why did you turn human in the middle of the sky?”
“Whenever I shift I have to really concentrate on it the entire time, so I guess those crows just really fucked me up and messed with my focus” You sigh
“Is it hard? To keep concentration, I mean.” Wednesday starts to wrap the bigger wound on your knee with a bandage wrap
“I’ve been doing it forever, so it’s kinda easy. Not when you’re getting jumped by crows, though…”
“Could you not just shift a pair of wings for yourself?”
“I was already focusing on having the thick skull of a ram.” You knock on your head for effect. “How do you think I haven’t died yet?”
Oh so it was a shapeshifter thing. She was right about your thick skull, though
“Perhaps you should tell Enid that,” Wednesday gets up from her kneeling position in front of you. “She almost fainted carrying you on the way here and I have reason to believe it isn’t because you’re heavy.”
“Maybe I should get her something as compensation…” You mumble to yourself as Wednesday helps you out of the bathroom, using her as a crutch so you can flop onto her bed
The Addams girl sits beside you, your face buried in her sheets. Both of you fall into a comfortable silence as Wednesday continues to stare at you, her mind coming up with endless questions about your abilities.
If concentration was a constant concern, was Wednesday not giving you not enough credit? To focus on multiple tasks at once, surely it was hard for someone as air-headed as you. But then again, you have been doing this for your entire life. Did your concentration come as easy as breathing? Was it so natural you barely noticed it?
And surely the process hurt, right? Your molecules were repositioning themselves to fit the look of an entirely different being. What was there a difference between you and Weems?
What were your limitations? Wednesday would like to test them. Maybe if she’d ask kindly enough you’d-
“Ask your questions, Wens” You mumble into her soft bedsheets, your voice snapping Wednesday out of her thoughts
“Pardon?”
“We’re girlfriends. You can read my mind as much as I can read yours”
“And your logical explanation for that, is..?”
“Girlfriend magic.” You hold up your hands while shaking them, and Wednesday immediately recognizes the jazz hands you had quite an addiction to
“Another day, it’s best you rest.”
This makes you turn your head to look at Wednesday, a smile threatening to take over your face
“I don’t understand why people don’t believe me when I say you’re the romantic one” You gush
“Unless you want me to bombard you with questions until morning rises, I’d suggest you stay quiet.”
“Yes ma’am” You pull down Wednesday on her bed, shoving your face into the shorter girls collar.
From that day forward Wednesday asks you one question a day about your abilities, and you make sure to answer them as best as you can. It was something Wednesday appreciated about you.
Answers would span from 15 minutes to almost 2 hours long. There were some days you had to pull out the whiteboard that was collecting dust in the bee shed, writing and drawing out key information
At first it was casual, it really was. But a month later it was almost like class with how the Addams had a book and a half filled with information about you. A class Wednesday could actually get behind.
She’s learned every shapeshifter is different. Some turn into people, some turn into animals, and others can turn into both. So the book and a half was really just information about you, which Wednesday wasn’t exactly opposed to
Meditation seemed to be a pretty big thing to you. Whenever Wednesday was writing, you’d be meditating. At first the Addams questioned if you were compatible being in a room with her loud typewriter, but you insisted the noise was necessary for you to tune out
Another thing Wednesday learned is that you couldn’t exceed four limbs. Which, you made sure to voice your opinion on. The dreams of being a four-legged and two-winged western dragon was impossible, so unfortunately you’d have to make your peace with being a wyvern instead
Small snores came from you curled around Wednesday under a tree as a tiger. She could only focus on how you always somehow resembled your human face
Turning to a new page of her journal, the Addams girl starts to sketch the face of your tiger next to the one of your lion. No matter what form you’d take, Wednesday would be able to recognize it.
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moonsgemini · 10 months
Text
good for you - rafe cameron
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summary: Rafe just wanted to be good. He wanted to be good for her, but somehow he always found a way to mess things up. And of course she’s there to help him clean up the mess.
warnings: angst, fluff, rafe gets arrested, insecurities from rafe
wc: 1.9k
an: hope you all enjoy!! I kinda lost inspo towards the end but regardless I still kinda like it. um also I’m 5 days sober so love that for me, I’m taking a tolerance break to clear my mind & it's helped so much so far.
masterlist
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She was laying on her bed reading Pride & Prejudice, trying to stay away from her phone. She was trying to build better habits like not going on her phone before she went to sleep. It was a cool summer night, her balcony doors open letting the smell of the beach enter her room. Her eyes were starting to involuntarily shut as sleep started to overtake her, but she was jolted awake as her phone started vibrating on her night stand.
It was almost 12am who would be calling her at this hour. She peeked over and the name on the screen made a pit in her stomach form. Kildare Sheriff’s Department. She didn’t have a single clue as to why she was getting a call from the police at this hour. Her stomach turned as her mind raced jumping to conclusions like someone she knew being in an accident.
Hesitantly picking up she muttered, “Hello?”
“Hey uh it’s me.”
Her mouth went dry, “Rafe? Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Y/n had only moved to outer banks a few months ago. She had met Sarah one day when she was shopping at a boutique in the figure eight. Being the bubbly outgoing person that Sarah was she invited her to a party going on that night. Usually y/n wouldn’t go to a random party alone but it was summer and how else was she going to make friends. She had promised herself that in the Outer Banks she was going to be different. She wasn’t going to bury herself in her books and be secluded missing out on all the things a teenager should be doing like she had been in her old hometown.
When she arrived at the party she was received with weird looks and she had immediately regretted her decision. She wandered around hoping someone would come up and talk to her or she’d bump into Sarah. Luckily she did bump into her, the girl immediately took her under her wing and introduced her to some people. Y/n even had a few drinks as she talked with the girls she met. She was actually enjoying herself. After a while she went off to find the bathroom, that’s when she bumped into a 6’2 dirty blonde.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” She mumbled stumbling back a bit, her balance a little off after a few seltzers.
Rafe looked down at the girl not recognizing her as a regular at these parties, “No worries.” He smirked, he definitely would have remembered her.
She looked around not really knowing where she was going, “um do you know where the bathroom is?”
Rafe thought she was extremely cute. She was like a lost puppy and he would do anything to help her find her way, “It’s the last door on the right, have we met before?” He asked knowing they definitely haven’t.
“Probably not, I just moved here a couple weeks ago. I’m y/n.” She smiled as she felt her face heating up. She thought he was extremely handsome, he had a slightly cocky demeanor but she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t into it. The way he looked at her like she was his prey made her feel something warm in her stomach. In her old town no boy had bothered to give her the time of day so having the attention of someone as handsome as him was overwhelming.
Rafe’s smirk grew, “That makes sense I think I’d remember if we met, I’m Rafe.”
He knew he was a goner when she looked up at him with those big eyes and that smile. Everything about her was captivating to him. He liked looking at her smooth exposed legs in the small skirt she was wearing and her collarbones that were begging to be kissed by him. He also liked the fact that she didn’t know who he was. She had no idea he was a bad person the way everyone said he was.
Ever since that night Rafe and y/n had been practically inseparable. They spent their days together whether it was at the beach while she read her books on the sand in that small bikini while Rafe surfed. Or they’d go to parties together, Rafe’s arm around her the whole night. Not letting her out of his sight and making sure everyone knew she was Rafe’s girl even though they weren’t dating. Rafe hadn’t asked her out yet, he wanted to be better before he made anything official.
Rafe had become better. He wasn’t doing coke anymore and he stopped drinking so much, limiting himself so only a few drinks. He even started doing everything his dad asked him to instead of doing whatever was in his best interest. But Rafe was nowhere near perfect. It’s why he was calling her from the sheriff’s department at midnight. He felt like he had just fucked up all the effort he had made to be better with one stupid night.
He had gone out to a bar with a few friends and he had maybe had a bit too much to drink. Maybe he had a lot to drink and he might of started a fight with some guys. Which resulted in him being taken to the police station to sit in the drunk tank or be picked up by someone. He had one phone call and he couldn’t call his dad, he’d just yell at him and let him stay there over night. His friends weren’t the most reliable people and Sarah wasn’t exactly going to jump at the opportunity to help him. He only knew one person who would help him, but he felt embarrassed by his actions. This isn’t the Rafe he wanted her to know, but he was desperate.
“I’m o-okay. Can you come pick me up?” He hiccuped, “I fucked up y/n. Please can you come.”
She was already steps ahead of him. She had began putting on an oversized sweatshirt and her sneakers. Rafe meant a lot to her, he was one of the only people that actually listened to her. He saw her in ways that no one ever tried to. She would do anything for him. She had heard a few rumors about him but she didn’t pay any attention to them because it seemed like that Rafe was gone. Her Rafe was gentle, kind, smart, and protective.
“Of course Rafe. I’ll be there soon okay?” She said hoping to calm him, she could hear him sniffle lightly.
“I’m so sorry y/n,” He said in an almost whimper.
She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her, “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. I’ll be there soon okay?”
“Okay. Thankyou y/n.”
“Anything for you Rafey.” She smiled just thinking about him. His heart clenched at the nick name, how could she be so perfect. How could she not be angry with him for being so stupid.
When she arrived at the police station she went up to the front desk and nervously looked around. Waiting for someone to come up and help her.
“Hi, what can I do for you?” Shoupe asked as he appeared from around the corner.
“Hi um I’m here to pick up Rafe Cameron,” She said almost uncertain.
He nodded his head, “I’ll go get him, if you can just fill out these papers for me.”
“Mhmm thankyou,” she smiled sweetly.
Shoupe walked back around the corner and down the hall to the holding cell. Rafe sat there his head in his hands.
“Cameron, let’s god.” He started unlocking the door to let the young man out.
Rafe stood up quickly, because she actually came. A part of him worried that you wouldn’t show up. She’d see what a mess he was calling her at midnight and just leave him there. He couldn’t wait to see his girl. Shoupe walked him out to the front and there she stood in his sweatshirt and some sleep shorts. He felt a pang of guilt go through him knowing he disturbed her.
“Rafe,” She said letting out a relieved sigh. He had a cut lip and bruised cheek. His knuckles were cut up and bruised.
He practically ran towards her to hug her. He burried his head in the crook of her neck, taking in the scent of vanilla and shea butter. All of his worries disappeared as he held her.
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled wishing he could just stay this way forever.
“It’s okay, let’s go home.” She pulled away from him holding his face in her hands to examine him better. Her eyes watered slightly as she took in his hurt perfect face.
They walked to her car in silence, she had a million questions but she waited to ask. Once in her car she looked over at him. He looked so broken, so upset at himself.
“What happened Rafe?” She asked.
He looked over at him with watery eyes, “I-I don’t know. One minute I’m having a drink and then another. Then another and another. Then this guy shoulder checked me on his way to the restroom and I-I just lost it. I don’t know why.” He shook his head thinking about how stupid his reason for starting the fight was.
“Rafe, people make mistakes.”
“I’ve made so many mistakes. I just want to be good. I want to be good enough for you, but I’m so stupid, I’m a loser and an idiot. I-I don’t deserve you.”
She leaned across the console and held his face in her hands rubbing her thumbs gently across his cheek bones, “Don’t say that. Rafe I would come get you from here every day if you needed me to. You can’t be so hard on yourself, it matters to me that you’re trying to be good. You are good. I’ve never once thought that you weren’t.” She cared for him more than he would ever know.
He couldn’t find any words to say because none existed that would describe how much love he had for her. No one believed in him the way that she did. He reached over mimicking her and placing his hands on her cheeks pulling her into him. His lips meeting hers, his lip hurt as he kissed her. Her hands dropped from his face and moved to his shirt, desperate hands gripping at it trying to pull him closer.
Rafe hummed in satisfaction at the feeling of her mouth on his, something he had been dreaming about for months now. The way their lips moved against each other seemed like they had been doing this forever. She let out a small whimper and it made his head spin. His hand ran down her face to hold the side of her neck, finger entangling in her hair. His other hand moved to her waist. He really wished they were in his bed right now so he could really show her how much she means to him. But he wanted to take things slow with her.
They pulled away, foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. She felt so dizzy, all her senses were overloaded on Rafe Cameron.
“Did you know that you’re perfect?” He said quietly.
She laughed softly, “You’re perfect. Come stay with me tonight.
“Anything you want,” He pecked her lips. For the first time in his whole life he didn’t feel less than.
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corrodedcoffins-blog · 3 months
Text
The boys finding out about Y/n
luke hughes x actress reader
word count: 1.1 k
note: fr loving these two so much at the moment!
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It was summer at the lake house, a time Luke usually loved. Not to say he wasn’t having fun with his brothers and friends on the lake everyday, he just desperately missed his girlfriend. Missed being able to call or text her at any time, with her being in Scotland filming a movie they were in different time zones, and he had yet to tell his brothers and friends about her yet so he couldn’t even bitch to anyone about it. In Luke's time he could only chat with her from lunch to dinner time, of course the time of day he was most busy with the people there.
Today was a more casual day with the boys staying in the backyard of the house. So finally Luke had time to text Y/n, sitting inside at the kitchen island, only him inside everyone else had made their way outside. So engrossed in the text conversation he was having, Luke didn’t notice his brother walking into the kitchen.
Jack walked into the kitchen looking for another beer, what he hadn’t thought he’d find was his little brother’s eyes glued to his phone, blushing, so obviously talking to a girl. And being an older sibling, an older brother at that, it was his job to tease Luke about girls. Quinn did to him, so he has to for Luke. Do unto others what others have done unto you. That's how the saying goes, right? 
“What’s got you so smiley?” the boy asked, in a sing-song voice. Causing Luke’s head to shoot up, not knowing Jack was even in the room. He decides to respond, casually so as to not cause suspicion, “Nobody.” he replies, turning his phone face down on the island.
“Sure didn’t look like nobody.” grabbing a beer from the fridge, Jack leans over the counter of the island opposite to Luke, continuing, “Lukey, you can tell me.” “It’s not that I can’t tell you, it’s that I don’t want to.” “That’s rude, why don’t you want to tell me?” “Cause you won’t believe me.” On Luke’s side that was probably the dumbest thing to say at that moment, just a prompt for Jack to continue asking until Luke caves and just tells him. But he never said he was good at thinking through his decisions, that’s how he ended up with Y/n in the first place. And to Jack, what the fuck does that mean, know he has to know. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Nothing.” the younger brother says, quickly, getting up to grab a drink, as to look more casually and not like he was freaking out inside. “That’s fine, you don’t have to tell me.” Jack concluded, walking outside to the group, beer in hand. That set off a couple red flags in Luke’s head, Jack came to the conclusion of giving up far too fast by Jack standards. After pondering for a moment, the boy quickly turns to where he was sitting, no longer seeing his phone where he sat it nicely, face-down, on the counter. He then hears distantly from outside, “Lukey has a girlfriend!” This causes him to run outside in an instant.
“What’s your password Lukey.. Or do I not want to see it?” Jack’s comment caused the guys to laugh at Luke’s expense. “Jack give me my phone.” “Jack give him his phone.” Quinn buts in, still laughing at Luke's expense but having some mercy on him, but when Jack doesn’t acknowledge Quinn or Luke’s demand. Then of course the worst of the worst happens, a notification pops up on Luke’s phone. “Who is this from?” the boy holding the phone says, looking at the screen and seeing the contact name ‘y/n (heart x3)’ 
Luke didn’t even try to fight for his phone anymore, he guesses deep down he wanted something like this to happen. He wanted to at least tell his brothers this summer, but as summer continued he just couldn’t muster up the courage to tell them, and it coming out like this was jumping right into the deep end and maybe that was what he needed.
“...Y/n? You’re talking to a girl with the same name as Y/n L/n?” “This crush is becoming more of an obsession, hughesy.” Alex adds onto Jack's point. “It’s because it is her.” Luke finally confesses, walking over and snatching his phone from his brother.
“Yeah fucking right! No offence Lukey.. But not in your wildest dreams.” “Oh, Taylor reference.” “It is her, and I can prove it to you.” In his heart he knew he didn’t have to because she loved him, and he loved her. But god, Luke wanted to prove it to see the look on his brother’s and friends’ faces. “Okay go ahead.” And with that Luke sent Y/n a text saying, ‘Is it okay if we call for you to meet my brothers?’ Luke knew it would be a yes, Y/n had been asking when she would get to meet his brothers, it was always Luke who softly shot it down. And the answer is if fact clearly yes when he gets a facetime call, that he accepts right away. “Yes. I want to meet your brothers! Where are they?” “Hey we’re here too!” Cole yells, in reference to him, Alex, Trevor, and Dylan. 
Luke sets up his phone to lean on a cup, which was on the small table next to his chair. “Hi! I’m- wait have you intro- I just will. I’m Y/n!” The girl on the small phone says, waving enthusiastically. “Trust, we know.” Alex mumbles, himself and everyone else in shock.
“Holy shit.” “No fucking way” “You should come here and actually meet us.” 
“Is he paying you?” After Dylan said this, Luke put an end to this meeting. “Okay, I’m leaving because I only have this next half hour with her. I’ll be in my room.” All the boys watched as Luke walked back into the house. “I can’t believe that.”
“Sorry about them.” Luke mumbles, closing the door to his room. “Don’t be, I’ve been wanting to meet them.. What would you think of me coming there like, I think it was Trevor said..” “I would say, come at your own risk.” The girl chuckles, grabbing her planner and bringing it onto her lap. “I leave Scotland late tomorrow, then I fly to New York for a photoshoot, but that will only be for that day. I was planning on staying there just because I didn’t have plans but I can go see you instead.” “Are you sure, cause it’s going to be what just happened times ten.” “I’m sure, I want to actually meet your brothers where you can’t just walk me away from them when you get embarrassed. And to meet your parents.” “Okay. I’m excited to see you.” “I am too, I’ve missed you so much.” 
The couple continued to talk for the half an hour they had, before Y/n had to leave for the cast dinner. And when Luke returned to the group, it was never ending questions. 
447 notes · View notes
simon-sehs · 28 days
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due (18+) pt 2
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tags / cw: f!reader, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, sexually repressed!reader, smut, pining, flirting, inappropriate conduct, seduction, sexual tension, possessive!simon, mind games, public sex, virginity kink, fingering, oral sex, pussy eating, masturbation
You avoided him like the plague.
Tried to, anyway.
You couldn’t handle the thought of being near him without being able to touch him, or outright jump his bones. You relied on a daily mantra to keep yourself sane.
He’s not interested, you’re just desperate.
You laid in bed and glanced at the alarm clock. 2:36 in the morning.
It had been a couple days since Ghost had left the infirmary and started acting… weird. Cryptic.
You scoffed. Isn’t that just the default?
But then again, the things he had said to you… talking about you being… green…
…Touching you…
He knew you were a virgin, somehow.
God, was it really that obvious? But there was no way he could have made it to that conclusion alone. Soap knew, sure, but he wouldn’t have said anything.
…Would he?
Ah, hell…
You groaned and rubbed your tired eyes. It had to have been Soap. And then something else dawned on you.
Why did it matter?
Ghost was your Lieutenant. You trusted him, even if he was an ass sometimes. Personal things like this were bound to come out of the woodwork. It’s not like it would become relevant, anyway…
Even though you wanted it to be.
Maybe that was the problem. This whole ordeal had you feeling like a teen boy who discovered boobs for the first time. Hell, maybe even a lovesick little girl. Shit, would you even go that far? How much of your feelings were actually… authentic, vs the want—no, need—to get laid?
You carefully left the comfort of your bed and exited your room. The hallway was dark and cold on the bare legs not covered by your pajama shorts. A cup of coffee at this hour wasn’t the best idea, but it wasn’t like you were going to get proper sleep anyway.
You slowly and silently entered the empty mess hall… and froze.
Fuck. Me.
Ghost was sitting at one of the tables, his back facing you as he sipped from a mug of what you could only assume was his usual tea. However, he didn’t seem to know you were there.
Get. Out. Get out, get out!
You slowly turned on your heel, your bare foot squeaking against the damn tile.
Shit.
“Sergeant. What are you doing in here?”
You turned back around, but this time, your foot did not squeak against the floor again, as if to pour salt in the wound. You crossed your arms defensively. “Stalking you, obviously.”
He had turned to face you, his eyes instinctively moving to your bare legs for a second before returning to your eyes. “Funny.”
“I try. Can I go?”
“No. Not until you answer me, honestly.”
You sighed. “Came to have some coffee. What about you?”
“Not your concern.”
You grit your teeth. “Whatever.” You turned to leave now that his curiosity was sated.
“Wait…”
You paused and turned back around.
Ghost lifted his balaclava slightly to take a drink of his tea. You took the opportunity to soak in the sight of his jawline, his lips…
He set the cup back down and looked at you. “Come, sit.”
No. Bad idea.
Yet, you walked over and sat down across from him. He carefully pushed his mug towards you. “You can do better than that piss poor shite they call coffee here. Try this.”
“What if I don’t want to share your germs?”
He stared at you.
“Fine…” You picked up the still warm mug and tentatively took a sip. You weren’t sure what the flavor was, it tasted slightly bitter, but still pleasing to the tastebuds. You took another drink.
“Alright, don’t fuckin’ hog it…”
You set the cup down and pushed it back towards him. He took a drink.
Your gaze settled on his eyes, which appeared tired and haggard with the lack of makeup around them. It was weird, seeing more of his bare skin than usual.
“Nightmares?” You guessed.
“None of your concern.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then…”
“I change my mind, you can leave.”
You braced your arms on the cold table. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I making you feel uncomfortable, Lieutenant?” You asked sweetly.
His dark eyes met your gaze, but he remained silent. He leaned back in his chair. “Hm. Do I make you uncomfortable, Sergeant?”
You mulled it over in your head. Did he?
“None of your concern.” You said flatly.
“Ah, so not only are you a prude, but a jokester as well.”
You knew it was intentional. He was trying to piss you off, and you knew it. And yet, it still worked. “Yeah? So what?”
He smirked. “I hit a nerve, love? What’s the expression…? ‘It’s a joke, not a dick, don’t take it so hard’…” He chuckled.
“Let’s quit with the bullshit. Your little favor I owe you… you want my virginity, don’t you?”
“Ah, you’re not too daft after all. Good girl.”
You leaned back in your chair. “What I want to know is, why on Earth do you think I would indulge in your request?”
“Because you like me.”
“Do I?”
“I have plenty of reason to believe so.”
“Then you’re delusional.”
He smiled and shrugged. “Alright, then. Consider the favor forgotten.”
“…Wait, what?”
“You heard me. Consider your little mission fuckup buried and forgotten. Wouldn’t want to… pressure you into anything, of course…”
Your brows furrowed as he talked. This… was good, wasn’t it?
So then why did you feel disappointed?
“…What game are you playing at, Ghost?”
“Me?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one pretending that you don’t want anything to happen between us. I’ve seen the looks, the blushing… you’re not slick, love. But please… keep telling me I’m the delusional one…”
You frowned and glanced away.
“So, let me ask you, Sergeant: what do you want?”
“I… it doesn’t matter what I want…”
He took a drink of his tea. “How noble of you. Answer the question, properly. That’s an order.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You then closed your mouth and sighed.
“…Fine. I’ll take a guess.” He said, putting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. “You want me to take your virginity.”
You stayed silent, squirming in your seat.
“I hit the nail on the head?” He smirked. “I wonder… just how much you long for it. To lose that self-control, that pride you have for holding onto it for this long…” He took another drink. “To let someone take care of you… someone who… knows what they’re doing…” He whispered.
Your heartbeat accelerated, your skin beginning to feel hot all over as his words hit close to home. You swallowed. “W-what do you get out of it?”
He seemed surprised by the question, but chuckled with a smile. “What do I get? Well… I finally get to see what makes you tick in the bedroom. I get to bring out a new side of you, one that’s been boiling under the surface for… god, how long? Who knows. And, well, I’d be lying if I said the idea of ruining you for anyone else didn’t turn me on.” He leaned forward in his seat. “To fuck you so good, you won’t even daydream of gracing anyone else’s bed…”
You released a shaky breath.
“Poor girl, are you getting aroused?” He cooed. “C’mere.”
You stayed glued to your seat. “Huh?”
“Did I stutter, love? Come here.”
You waited a couple more moments before you slowly stood from your chair and walked around the table to him. He stood from his seat as well, now towering over you.
“Look at you… tell me what you want...”
“I… want you…”
“Yeah? What else?”
Frustration started to simmer beneath your skin. “I want… want you to fuck me…”
He chuckled and you started blushing. Then he slowly reached out and held your chin, his fingers hot and rough on your skin. “You sure?”
You nodded.
He let go of you and trailed a finger down your neck, the middle of your chest, along your bellybutton, and stopping at your shorts, where he traced along the hemline, caressing the bare skin between your shirt and pants.
Your eyes widened as the finger slipped inside the waistband…
“W-wait, there are cameras in here!” You whispered.
“I’ll delete the footage.” He said without skipping a beat.
“…What? You have access to that?”
He just raised an eyebrow.
“…Oh…”
His fingers continued delving into your shorts, past your underwear. You could hear the sharp intake of his breath as he made contact with your pussy.
“You poor thing…” He cooed. “You’re so wet, so eager to be filled…”
You could feel a blush forming again at his words, his fingers carefully rubbing and prodding at the different parts of you, as if mapping you out to memory. It felt arousing, but… weird.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
His brown eyes bore into yours. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m playing with your cunt.” He pinched your clit, making you yelp, and you clasped a hand over your mouth before glaring at him.
“Don’t give me that, love, or I’ll leave you empty handed.”
Your sigh was muffled by your hand, which you slowly dropped before making your gaze neutral again.
“Good girl…”
Ah, shit. This again. You moaned.
He finally adjusted his hand and started grinding his palm along your clit, the tips of his fingers swirling around your entrance.
Your heart raced in your chest, all of your nerves on high alert.
“You like this, love?”
You nodded. “Y-yeah…” You replied, breathlessly. “Can… can you do more?”
He tilted his head. “You’ll have to be specific. Do you want me to go faster? Do you want me to enter you? Do you—“
“In me. Please.”
He chuckled but complied, slowly slipping a finger inside. A choked sound left your throat. The sensation was odd, but… a bit fulfilling.
With one finger.
Heat washed over you at the thought of having his dick inside you.
“Oh, you really liked that, huh? I can feel you raining on my finger.” He started moving it in and out, making you moan. “You’re so soft… has anything else been inside? You? Toys?”
You blushed again and shook your head. “No, nothing.”
Ghost raised both eyebrows. “Nothing? You’re telling me you haven’t stuffed those pretty fingers inside once?”
“No… I always, uh… never-mind.”
He stopped his movements. “Tell me.”
You sighed. “I would always… uh… rub myself, instead…”
“Interesting…”
Then he entered another finger. You found yourself holding your breath, hands clutching onto his arms.
“Careful, love. Relax…”
You released your breath and breathed deeply. And then you could feel his knuckles at the base of your entrance. Oh. Oh wow.
He titled his hand to be cupping the curve of your cunt once more before moving his fingers again. You could feel yourself clenching around him, each stroke carefully caressing your soft walls, heat swirling around deliciously in your abdomen.
“Lieutenant, ohh…” You breathed out.
He stopped. “When I’m knuckles deep in you, you say my name.” He continued.
“Ghost…”
He curved his fingers, making you buck and moan. “Try again.”
You slowly met his gaze. “…Simon…”
“That’s it, lovie…”
You moaned again, laying your head on his shoulder as he continued to finger you. Your knees began to shake, much to your mortification.
“Having trouble?” He chuckled.
“N-no, I’m fine.”
“Good. Because I’m going to continue until you come on my fingers. And then? I’m going to eat your pussy, after.” He whispered into your ear, making you whimper. “You’re going to taste so sweet…”
“Oh, god…” Your grip tightened on him. “I… I think I’m gonna…”
“You think? Or you know?”
“I… I know. I’m gonna come…”
He started circling his palm against you, heightening your pleasure as his fingers lazily fucked you. Only then did you realize just how… loud… and wet you were down there.
“S-Simon…” You clenched around him, your orgasm making you twitch and your breathing stutter. Your previous orgasms had felt good, but at the hands of another? It was divine.
“‘Atta girl… good girl…” Ghost used his free hand to rub your back. “Now, lay down on the table.”
Your head was still swimming. “Huh?”
“Like I said, I’m gonna eat you out. Get on the table… no better place for it.” His grin was insufferable.
You let go of him and gingerly laid yourself on the table, wincing at the cold contact. Ghost either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, before he unceremoniously pulled both of your shorts and underwear to the side, and stared at your core. You started to feel somewhat self-conscious from his intense gaze.
“Fuck…” He muttered before leaning in and sniffing. Loudly. “Mmm…”
Your eyes widened and your face was on fire. Jesus…
And then it finally happened. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue up and down your folds, albeit a bit too eagerly. But then he slowed down, making his movements deliberate by circling your entrance, then your labia, and then your clitoris.
You moaned, very loudly. And then your closing eyes snapped back open as you felt his big hand closing over your mouth. “As pretty as your noises are, I need you to be quiet, you’re gonna wake the whole base.”
Then he continued licking you. You squirmed and jolted against him.
He sighed. “I’m also gonna need ya to stay still.”
“Thorry…” You mumbled against his hand.
Ghost smirked and then dived back in, but this time, he started sucking on your clit. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the arm that was stretched across your chest, holding onto your covered mouth as you quietly moaned against his palm.
“I was right,” he went back to his licking, “you taste amazing…”
Your neck ached as you held your head up to watch him, his movements precise and calculated. “Mmm…” You whimpered against his hand.
Wait, where was the other?
Your gaze followed the length of his other arm, still bandaged, which was slowly moving up and down. You couldn’t see past the table, but you didn’t need to. He was getting himself off. You moaned against his hand again, desperately wondering how he was doing it. You wanted to see so badly, and his hand on your mouth was preventing you from properly asking.
The fact that he was masturbating during this made you wetter, and your hips started grinding against his face, despite him previously telling you to stay still. But instead of chastising you, he simply raised an eyebrow and stopped his movements. Rather, he laid his tongue out and let you do as you pleased against it. Your legs wrapped around his shoulders, tightening behind his neck, making him moan.
“You’re very greedy for a virgin...” He breathed hotly against your pussy.
You didn’t bother with giving him a reaction. Your eyes may have been locked on his but you were tuned out, clinging to the sensation of the familiar build-up burning in your abdomen as the movement of your hips faltered, the angle of your body tiring you out already. Thankfully, Ghost saw his opening and continued his previous actions from earlier, before you took over.
You whimpered against his hand, grateful that he wasn’t going to let your budding orgasm falter…
And then he stuck his tongue inside you.
“Mmm!”
You winced as your head fell back against the table, but the sliver of pain didn’t matter. You were now coming again, your legs instinctively squeezing him closer to you. He grunted in response, but didn’t make any effort to let you know if he was uncomfortable, potentially getting suffocated by your vagina.
Hell, he probably likes that anyway.
But then your legs twitched and loosened as you rode out the momentary euphoria, and his hand slowly left your mouth.
You limped against the cold table, panting and exhausted. But Ghost did not seem to care.
“Up.” He commanded.
You groaned and slowly left the table, back aching slightly as you watched him walk over to a counter, grabbing a sanitation wipe.
Wait, what is he…?
And then he walked back over to you, and began wiping down the surface.
There was something so comical about the sight of your Lieutenant sanitizing a table after eating you out on it. But, you were also relieved and… endeared… that he was being so careful about this sort of thing. He then threw away the wipe and turned to face you.
“Alright. Now, go to bed, love.”
You snapped out of your stupor, confused. “Wait, what?”
“Sleeping. You know what it is, right? You get in bed, lay down—“
“Shut up! That’s not what I…” You cleared your throat nervously. “Is… that all you were… gonna do?” You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice.
He chuckled softly and crossed his arms. “For now, yeah.”
Confusion washed over you. For now? “Why?”
“Once again, I was right. You are a greedy little virgin.” His arms slowly untangled themselves as he walked up to you, a thumb tracing along your bottom lip. “You really want to know, sweetheart?”
Your heart flutters at the nickname. “Yes.”
“Fine…” His thumb left your lip as his hand began caressing your cheek, softly. “I want you to beg for more… for me. I don’t just want you to feel obligated to me, I want you to want to feel that way. I want you to enjoy feeling like that. Am I making sense?”
You blinked at him. “I… think so…”
“But… I’m also a patient man. I’m not going to rush into things, even if you say otherwise. I want you to squirm a bit, if I’m being honest. Make you really… soak it all in. Your feelings, that is.” He glanced down at your lips. “I want you to need me. More than you’ve ever wanted anyone in your life. More than you thought humanly possible…”
“…Are you done?”
“No.” He leaned in closer, your faces almost touching. “I want you to ache for me so badly, your pussy weeps at the sight of me. I want your everything.”
You continued staring at him. “I think you have issues.”
Ghost laughed heartily, the sound ringing in your head like sweet music. “Maybe. But… something tells me you like it.” He playfully smacked your face, before walking away. “You can have the rest of my tea.”
You don’t know where the anger came from. Maybe it was from feeling led on, in some capacity. Did you? You thought there was going to be more, the grand finale…
You turned to watch him go, before gritting out: “I’ll just find someone else, then.”
He quit walking but didn’t turn to face you. “Is that so, Sergeant?” Humor evident in his tone.
“Yes. It is.”
He chuckled. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
And then he left the mess hall without a single backwards glance. Your threat had fallen on deaf ears.
You stood there in the mess hall, alone and in the dark… mind racing…
…Fucker.
This wasn’t over.
[part one] [part two] [part three]
taglist: @waves-against-a-cliff @beansproutmafia
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dorabledewdroop · 2 months
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FIRST TIME SMUT OKAY IM SORRY
18+ only pls if you’re younger avoid this?
Warning: Smut but also it’s really badly written I’m so sorry
Summary: a little misunderstanding Tony’s new AI leads to a pretty pleasant conclusion.
It’s not really dubcon because everyone has feelings for each other but they act on it before talking about it?
I wrote this in an hour and it’s my first time writing smut I’m sorry it’s not that great but I’m trying my hand let’s see.
X—X—X—X—X
“I think it would be better if we tell her now” Natasha told Wanda. The both of them sitting in the kitchen while Wanda made breakfast for the team.
“What if she’s too scared? What if she says no? What will we do then? I don’t think I can handle that rejection, Nat” Wanda replied to her girlfriend, not looking her in the eye.
“You know that’s not going to happen, malyshka” Nat assured her.
It was no secret that you were hopelessly in love with the witch and the ex-assassin. Everyone knew about it. You weren’t exactly subtle when it came to it. Always avoiding to spar with both of them, flushing red anytime somebody even remotely teased you about it. Not to mention the fact that Wanda could always hear your thoughts about the two of them, never failing to blush at just how utterly smitten you were. It was getting ridiculous, why wouldn’t you just tell them? Could you really not see how they were flirting with you? Did you think that they would let just anyone cuddle with them during movie night? How about the fact that in the event of a nightmare, both of them would leave their shared room and ask to lay down besides you. Was that not clear enough? Could you-
Ms. Maximoff. Ms. Romanoff. Ms.Y/L/N appears to be in distress and calling for the two of you. Tony’s new beta AI ‘Wednesday’ interrupted the conversation.
Her vitals indicate increased heart rate and raised body temperature. She also seems to be repeating your names.
Sharing a concerned look they both rushed to your room
They were about to knock when they heard a loud ‘FUCK’
Not waiting, they barged into your room without knocking.
You yelped as the two of them entered. They noticed you were trembling, face flushed, and practically hyperventilating.
“W-what are you d-doing here?” You stammered, wide eyes darting between the two of them. “Detka, Wednesday told us that you weren’t doing well and that you were calling for us” Natasha said as she sat down beside you, causing a whimper to come out of your mouth. She noticed how your knuckles were white as you gripped the bed sheets. She was about to put her hand against your forehead when she glanced at your unlocked phone beside you. As soon as she saw the app that was open, she realised where the slight buzzing was coming from and put two and two together. Hiding her smirk she glanced at Wanda, and pointedly looked at your phone. Wanda’s eyes widened when she realised what was going on and grinned. Wanda slowly made her way towards your other side.
“I’m- shit- I’m fine” You muttered weakly. Closing your eyes, trying so so hard not to combust on the spot.
Without you realising, Wanda had taken your phone and increased the vibration setting to the second highest.
“Holy fuck.” You eyes widened as your chest started heaving, gripping the bedsheets even more.
“What’s wrong kotenok?” Wanda asked with faux concern. Running her finger up and down the side of your arm.
“Nothing. Just.. p-please leave. I’d like to be alone right now” You said, not looking at either of them in the eye. Trying so hard not to come right there. The vibrator inside you not doing you any favours. Why the ever-loving fuck did you not lock the door. You were going to kill Tony and his stupid AI.
“Are you sure you want us to leave, malyshka?” Natasha asked sweetly, looking at you as if she was going to eat you up-
Nope. Nope. You can’t think like that. You weren’t going to last and thinking like that definitely wasn’t going to help things.
“Holy fucking shit” You exclaimed, as the vibration jumped even higher. (Thanks to wanda. Not that you knew anyway)
“You know..” Wanda started
“If we did leave right now.. there’s something that we wouldn’t be able to tell you” Natasha continued.
Trying hard to control your breathing but failing. You were so close. You looked up at them in question.
They both leaned right next to either side of your head, their warm breath tickled against your neck.
“This is what we wanted to tell you” Wanda whispered
Natasha looked at her smirking and bit your neck.
“Come for us, baby” Wanda stated right next to your ear.
That’s it. That’s all it took. With a scream, you came. Your back arching, waves of pleasure leaving you writhing on the bed as they both helped keep you still. You just kept on coming, screaming their names until your voice gave out.
“That’s it, baby. Such a good girl for us” Natasha praised against your ear, earning a loud moan. The vibration just didn’t stop, and soon enough, you were coming again. This time however, the vibration stopped.
You felt like you were about to pass out until you realised where you were and whom you were with.
Your eyes shot open as you began to apologise when you saw their hungry looks. Your words died in your throat. That’s when you saw your phone in Wanda’s hand.
“You- you di-“ you started weakly
Wanda shushed you.
“Just enjoy this sweetheart.” She said as she stroked your forehead.
“You’re not upset?” You asked feeling vulnerable.
“No, baby, we’re not upset. We were deciding to how to tell you that we feel the same way when Wednesday told us you were calling for us.” Natasha said
You blushed, turning your head into the pillow and groaning in embarrassment before you turned your head in shock at the two of them.
“Wait. You like me?” You asked, hopeful
“No baby” Wanda said chuckling.
Natasha slapped her arm when she saw your hurt look and hurriedly continued. “What she means is that we don’t like you, we love you”
Your lower lip trembled as you looked at them.
“I love you so much too” you whispered, each hand caressing their cheeks. Your heart melted when they both simultaneously nuzzled into your palms.
Unable to hold herself anymore, Wanda practically fell on you as she enveloped you in a hug, only pulling back when you let out a loud squeak. She looked at you in concern.
Your face burned as you explained “It’s.. um.. it’s still inside me”
Both of them looked at each other and laughed, much to your embarrassment.
“Guess we’ll have to do something about that” She replied with a smirk, slowly leaning towards your face.
You were going to kill Tony. Maybe just hug him too.
X—X—X—X—X
I’m not a writer and definitely haven’t done this before. Pls tell me if you liked it and all thank you for reading.
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whoreforhorror · 1 year
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Slasher with an S/O who self-harms
Included: Billy Loomis, Hannibal Lecter, Rusty Nail, Michael Myers, Bo Sinclair
Tw: Mentions of self-harm and blood
Billy Loomis
Billy had been out with Stu as Ghostface quite late into the night. He figured you would be asleep. Still, on the off chance that you weren’t, he made his way to your house. Realistically, even if you were asleep, he was just going to join you in bed. 
He got to your window to find you were up, sitting on the edge of your bed with your back to the window. He was happy to see you up because he wanted to spend time with you, but it wasn’t really usual for you to be up quite this late. He snuck in quietly, planning to try and give you a scare, and got about halfway to you before he noticed a few more details he had missed.
You were incredibly quiet, the silence of the room feeling a bit suffocating at the moment. Your head was hung low and you had a blade in one of your hands. Your arms were bleeding. You were… bleeding? What the fuck?
Billy closes in on you, achieving his original goal of giving you quite the jump scare in the process. He didn’t care about that right now. Before you really know what was happening, you’re in the bathroom, sitting while he pulls out medical supplies. Billy was silent and methodical as he cleaned each wound, making sure they weren’t too deep before wrapping your arms in gauze and medical wrap. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t look at you.
He’d sit you back down on the edge of your bed, standing in front of you in silence. Even considering he didn’t really like to talk that much, he was too quiet. It put you on edge and made you worry. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or worried, and his face wasn’t giving anything away.
You avoided eye contact for what felt like an eternity before you came to the conclusion that you’d have to be the first to talk. “Billy-“ You couldn’t get anything out before he dropped to his knees in front of you and hugged your waist, burying his head in your stomach. You could hear him sob quietly into your shirt, and his hold on you was tight.
He cried for a while before he could gather himself enough to talk. Even then, all he said was “Why?”. He’d kill anyone responsible for making you feel this way. Point blank. No Stu, no Ghostface, no teasing or foreplay. It would be him, them, and his knife, and it would be messy. If it wasn’t that simple, he’d listen to everything you told him, anything you’d be willing to share. When you finished, he’d stand up to hold you properly and to talk in your ear. He couldn’t bring himself to talk anywhere above a whisper at the moment. 
“I can’t lose you. You’re all I have. I love you so much-“ It was the first time he had told you that and you couldn’t ignore the sting created by having him say it in this moment rather than during something happy and romantic. “I need you here with me. Anything you want I’ll help you with. I’ll do anything to make you feel better, just say the word.”
Eventually, he’d get you to lay down with him and he’d hold you tight as you both slept. From now on, he’d keep a closer eye on you and anything your body language would tell him about how you’re feeling. Sometimes, when he’s really tired and you’re asleep, he’ll run his thumb over your scars and think to himself about how he’d missed the signs and what he can do to keep this from happening ever again.
Hannibal Lecter
The dinner party really wasn’t supposed to start like this. Hannibal had bought you an outfit he’d seen while he was out, and it had reminded him of you. It was a sweet thought, and you couldn’t deny it looked amazing, but there was one issue. It had short sleeves. You’d been able to get away with wearing long sleeves up until this point because of the weather, which was cold, but each day was just a bit warmer and it was to the point where it was too warm to add a jacket to an outfit. So here you were, looking at the outfit laying neatly on the bed, tears in your eyes as you thought about your arms and how Hannibal was going to react. Would he think you’re weak? Imperfect? Valueless? Would he think you were trying to damage his image?
Hannibal, who had been around for nearly twenty minutes, was growing concerned about how long it was taking you to get around. He knocked on the door, calling out to you and asking if everything was alright. You responded, saying everything was ok, but he could hear the distress and shakiness in your voice as you spoke. Of course, he could. He thought about his options for a second before announcing that he was coming into the room. You didn’t want him to but there was no way to keep him out. You knew that.
“What’s wrong, my love? Do you not like the outfit?” He knew it wasn’t that, but he’d rather you tell him what was really wrong rather than him having to figure it out himself. “I can take it back if it’s not to your liking.” You’d have to choose between acting as if you hated the outfit he’d gifted you or telling him about your self-harming. You hated sounding ungrateful, especially when Hannibal was always so gracious. You had to tell him.
And when you did, he goes quiet for a moment. He’d known something was wrong but he certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He hadn’t noticed. How hadn’t he noticed? He’s panicking internally but refuses to let it show at the moment. For the first time in a very, very long time, he’s feeling fear, sadness, confusion, and anger toward himself.
He’ll do whatever is needed to make you feel comfortable. If you want to cover them, he’ll figure it out. If you don’t want to, he’s more than supportive and will shut down anyone who would dare say something about them.
Once dinner is done and the guests have left, he’ll question you. In that moment, you don’t have Hannibal, you have Dr. Lecter. He will want to know how long you’ve been struggling with mental health, how long you’ve been self-harming, what triggers you, how can he help, etc.
He’ll pay close attention to you after he knows. You and sharp objects, that is. He won’t lock away knives or anything of that sort. He knows that will only make you feel worse, but he’ll make sure to remember exactly where sharp objects are and how they’re positioned. He’s going to know if you do it again. Once he knows, it’s impossible to hide it. Point blank. Still, he’ll be gentle about it. He doesn’t think you’re wrong or damaged; he just thinks you need a bit of structure and help.
Rest assured, you’ll get the best care with Hannibal. He’s a psychiatrist after all, and one of the best at that. However, he might use this as a way to subtly manipulate you into sharing his… unique food tastes. After all, why harm yourself when you can take all of your emotions out on others?
Rusty Nail
Rusty is gone A LOT, that’s no secret. But, that means you’re left with a lot of time to think, and thinking leads you to, well, the predicament you’re in now. You didn’t think he was supposed to be home for another day or two, but he’s early. He’s early and your arm is leaking fresh blood. If that wasn’t bad enough, you also hadn’t heard him (you were too wrapped up in your thoughts) until he was opening the bedroom door.
“Darlin’?” He’s walking towards you slowly, like you’re an animal that could lash out if he moves too quickly. Gently, he takes your hands and holds up your arms to give himself a better view. He wipes his thumb across a drop of blood to convince himself that this is real, and not a sort of twisted hallucination. “Darlin’.” He says it softly, this time.
He’s incredibly gentle as he guides you to the bathroom to tend to your wounds, quiet too. You’re sat on the side of the tub and he’s kneeling before you. As he finishes, he lets out a deep sigh, looking up at you before circling his arms around your waist and burring his face into your stomach. His hold is tight, and this lasts for quite a while.
When Rusty gathers himself enough to look at you again, he’ll pick you up and carry you to bed. You don’t feel like arguing. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was right, you were tired and you weren’t going to fight him on it. Even if you wanted to, the shattered look in his eyes acted as a foolproof deterrent.
As you nap, he cooks a meal for you. He wakes you up after a while to eat and draws you a bath after you’re done. He doesn’t say much. He doesn’t know what to say. For every moment he can, he’s going to take care of you like your royalty. Gradually, as the tension loosens, he’ll talk more and so will you but there is still a heavy sadness and tension in the air around him.
He’ll ask you quietly in the morning, as you two laze in bed, why you do it. Whether or not you tell him, he respects your choice. If you do tell him, he’ll want to talk through the issue. If it’s a person, he’s already thinking up ways to draw as much suffering from him as possible. If you don’t want to tell him, that’s ok. He’ll hold you close and whisper things about how much he loves you and what he would do to prove it.
When he’s on the road, he’ll call you every afternoon. Talk to him about anything, he just wants to hear you speak and get insight on your day. He wants to make sure you’re ok, as well. 
He’d take you for a drive if you wanted. He absolutely loves having you in his passenger seat, riding alongside him in his rig. It makes him feel happy and possessive. One night, when he’s not on the road, he’d stock his truck with snacks, drinks, and blankets. He’d drive you out a field and stargaze with you late into the night, possibly until you fell asleep. If that happened, he’d carry you back into the truck so he could drive home.
Michael Myers
Micheal knew something had been off for a while, but assumed you’d come to him when you were ready to share. He’d grown impatient though, and decided to watch you while you thought he was away, to see if he could figure out what was wrong.
He’d caught you in the act and was shocked. Well, he felt as much shock as he was capable of feeling, which is far more than he is used to but not like a person might normally. Still, the pang of emotion was something he didn’t feel often. He’d suspected something was up but he hadn’t suspected this. Not in the slightest.
Of course, he’d seen people self-harm before. He had his time in the hospital to thank for that. He remembered how the doctors would react. Restraints, heavy surveillance, taking away anything even slightly dangerous, frequent and consistent check-ins, and medication, loads of medications. He also remembered how much the patients hated it. He had a few hours before you expected him home, which meant he had a few hours to think.
When Michael came home, you greeted him as you always did. You were cheery and excitable. It put a weird taste in his mouth and a feeling like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It didn’t sit right with him and made him very unhappy.
He was still for a moment longer than normal, catching your attention and causing you to ask if something was wrong. He responds by pointing to your arm, confusing you. He grabs your wrist and pulls up one of your sleeves, and you freeze, looking at him in the eye holes of his mask in shock. 
Michael would give you the materials needed to take care of your wounds and watch as you patch yourself up. He’d teach you if you didn’t know how. After, he’d lay on the couch with you and watch movies until you fell asleep. Only after you’re asleep would he leave a kiss on each arm. A promise to you and himself that he’d do what he needed to make you happy.
Michael will be around more after he finds out. Not in an overbearing way, but he realized that he doesn’t spend as much time as he should with you. He’ll bring home little gifts that he thinks you’ll like and will make you masks that he thinks fit your personality. You might even sucker him into cleaning the house or cooking from time to time.
Bo Sinclair
It was WAY too hot for long sleeves in Louisiana. It was the middle of summer, and mid-day at that. Bo thought you’d knock more than a few screws loose to be dressed for late fall at this time of year. And to be outside on top of that?
Bo had asked you to come to the church to help with some minor repairs, and you’d been more than happy to come along. Problem was, you’d had a relapse the night before and your arms were covered in fresh wounds. You were practically dying in the summer heat, but you’d risk the heatstroke to avoid Bo finding out. 
“What’re you doin’ with them sleeves? You look like you’re fixin’ to go out in winter, not the Louisiana summer.” You hadn’t really thought of a cover story, which was coming back to bite you in the ass. You’d decided to say you just weren’t feeling too great, causing Bo to look back at you. 
“What’s wrong sugar?” You’d responded and said you felt cold and you were tired, and you could tell he wasn’t sure if he really believed you. He put a hand on your forehead as you looked up at him. “Well, you’re burnin’ up but that’s probably because of them sleeves. Why don’t ya take it off? Certainly wouldn’t mind the view to give me a lil’ work encouragement.” 
You turned him down and suggested that you’d go get some lemonade, to which he agreed was a good idea and wanted to join you. He was at a good stopping place anyway. While you were washing up to serve the lemonade, you’d had to push up your sleeves a bit to avoid getting them wet. You hadn’t accounted for Bo coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. 
He was about to say something when he saw them. When you felt him tense up, you tensed up too. You froze and waited for him to say something, to do anything that gave you an indication of how to respond. After a few seconds, he took his arms away from your waist and grabbed your shoulders gently, turning you around to face him.
“You know… I’ve got some scars too…” It was the first time you’d seen the scars on his wrist. It was the only thing he could think to do in the moment. You started fretting over him, asking what happened, if he was alright, who did this, and other things along that line in a continuous stream of worry. He had to interrupt you and raise his voice to get you to quiet down. He agreed that he would tell you what happened if you told him why you’d harmed yourself. 
In the end, you both wound up having an hours-long conversation about both of your histories and troubles. You both talked until you passed out, holding each other close and feeling leagues closer to him than you had before. It was a rare, bittersweet moment to bond and it would result in a permanent, noticeable shift in the interactions between you two.
After the conversation, you two held each other closer. You were softer when speaking to each other, and arguments often got resolved much quicker and with fewer tears than there used to be. You both understood each other more than anyone else had, and it shows.
Bo would do the best he could to make you feel comfortable showing your arms, no matter what stage of healing they were in. Bo would even show his scars more if it helped, granted that there was no chance of visitors. If tourists said anything about it, they wouldn’t get to be a sculpture. Vincent wouldn’t be able to reconstruct them well enough if he tried. No, they’d wind up in the pit with Lester’s roadkill. 
Bo would kiss your scars in intimate moments if you’d let him. It’s his way of showing that he loves every part of you, regardless of how much you like it yourself. 
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utilitycaster · 4 months
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It's become stunningly clear with this most recent episode that Imogen and Laudna's insularity, mistrust of everyone else in the party, and refusal to take responsibility for their actions is at the heart of the disconnect and lack of bonding within Bells Hells. It is not the only reason - I think Orym's constant smoothing over of issues in the interest of forward motion has certainly exacerbated the situation - but it's a significant and unavoidable factor. I'm hoping that while the actual exercises of the team-building probably won't themselves fix the issues this party has, addressing the various secrets that are now out, specifically the ones that touch on issues that affect the functioning and dynamics of the entire group, actually might.
As this post notes, their unwillingness to question each other or develop any conflict resolution with each other means they tend to, even if unwittingly, dogpile the rest of the group by acting as a singular voice. In a small conflict-averse group, this tends to constantly overwhelm the conversation. This is worsened by Imogen's psychic abilities, which permit her to glean information about the others without the need to have a conversation; it means the others in the party frequently start with two votes against them before they've even said anything.
They also both suffer from a pretty profound lack of boundaries. Again, Imogen's psychic abilities are invasive, frequently unwelcome, and often lead her to both jump to conclusions and to police the behaviors of others without considering their actions nor giving them any chance to have a full conversation. It also means she controls what information the rest of the party knows, as her interpretation of someone else's mental state is the only thing they're given when she reads someone's mind. Laudna, meanwhile, is extremely quick to trust, while also taking any deception as profound betrayal. As a result, they both tend to take a hot-or-cold approach to the others in the party based on the other person's most recent thought or action. They are prone to black-and-white thinking and snap judgments, which, as the next paragraph indicates, has serious ramifications.
Imogen and Laudna are terrible about actually talking to people and getting anything out in the open. This includes each other; again, see their frequent unquestioning support or the claim that their relationship defies words (which it does not; as of last episode this has culminated in Imogen revealing that, in fact, she is disgusted by a fundamental reality of their relationship, which is absolutely not something that can be addressed without a pretty intense conversation.) We also see this in how they've taken Fearne's choice not to take the shard. While, arguably, they had heard Fearne express her concerns about the shard to Morri by the time of the honesty exercise (which would make their behavior even worse), even if they hadn't, that's two voices shaming her for without hearing her side of the story. It's in sharp contrast with Chetney, who also expresses his disappointment with Fearne in episode 3x78, but immediately follows it up by asking her why she didn't want it. Imogen and Laudna never take it upon themselves to ask her how she feels or why she made that choice and let her explain; they jump straight to judgement.
That failure to ask ties into the final element of why they are the weak point in Bells Hells' communication: they are just as guilty as Ashton of "violent projection of responsibility", but unlike Ashton have not realized the depth of this flaw and the consequences it has not just on their own life but on the others in the party. This is less of an issue with Imogen with regards to Bells Hells (in fact one might argue she takes far too much responsibility in that she apparently sees policing the party on the basis of their thoughts to be her duty, though I would note that unattuning the circlet leaves her, the person with the clearest ties to the Vanguard, vulnerable to the powers of others within the organization) and far more so with the gods, from whom she apparently expects instant gratification. However, this is at the core of Laudna. It's true that she is by no means the only powder keg within the party; Chetney and FCG's abilities are also dangerous. However, one must take into account that Laudna has been aware of Delilah's presence for, as she has repeatedly stated, over three decades now, and only now realized the implications thereof, whereas Chetney became a werewolf less than a year ago and immediately took steps to mitigate the threat he posed, and FCG only learned of their condition within the past few months. Like Chetney, she has learned to remove herself from situations in which she could pose an immediate threat, but that slow learning curve and lack of proactivity is not promising for the future. It's also true that, keeping all other circumstances identical, the impact of Laudna's loss of control is far more dangerous. If Chetney bites someone or FCG attacks, unless they kill someone, the damage and curse can be undone and the power within them is unchanged. The same is not true with regards to what happens if Delilah makes Laudna absorb a magical item or a soul.
While everyone in Bells Hells shares some responsibility for the current state of affairs, Imogen and Laudna are without a doubt the primary source of toxicity. I think the others have become aware that they are in an environment in which Imogen is likely to either shoot them down, read their minds nonconsensually, or make insensitive suggestions, and that Laudna will nod along next to her as she does. It does not feel coincidental that Fearne chose not to voice her concerns and that Ashton avoided the group conversation entirely. This again does not absolve Ashton or Fearne of their deception of the party, but it does explain why they might feel an honest conversation is impossible. Unpacking what was said during the Honesty exercise might finally allow Bells Hells to excise this rot and to begin a new era of group conversations in which everyone feels they can say what needs to be said without fear, but it will be an effort to be sure.
Because it's me, I think it's worth noting that the fandom emphasis on absolving Imogen and Laudna of any accountability (which I've spoken about at length and have had on my radar for a long time now) is obviously not the cause of this behavior in-game, but does echo it in interesting ways. I'm not sure I would have realized the extent to which they evade responsibility in-game without this mentality being so prominently in the fandom. It explains why they are never expected, by many fans, to even achieve as minor a task as "asking Fearne how she feels instead of letting their own feelings dominate what they think she should do", let alone set boundaries for each other. But ultimately, that is the key: I think the only way for this party to achieve the trust they need is through the assertion of those boundaries. When Bells Hells know that they have the freedom to disagree with each other without being accused, dogpiled, ignored, or told to get it together, only then will they be able to actually come to true consensus rather than the fragile and tenuous teamwork they have had so far.
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stevebabey · 1 year
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somewhere only we know
a/n: i accidentally made this so long & ran with the request in whatever way my heart desired! hope this is enuf hurt/comfort for all ur needs <3 word count: 5.6k summary: You haven’t seen Steve in a few weeks, barely a couple phone-calls keeping your relationship beating. You assume the worst. Steve does his best to make it up to you. [hurt/comfort + miscommunication + established relationship]
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It’s hard to not think he’s avoiding you.
Steve never seemed the type of boyfriend who would be foolish enough to ice you out without so much as a word about something being wrong. He wears his heart on his sleeve — more than anyone you know.
You’d also like to think you would know. That by now, all these months together, you’ve would’ve somewhat memorised the twists and turns of his emotions. But if he’s dropped any clues about being upset with you, you certainly hadn’t picked up on them.
You think you’d prefer his iciness to this odd avoidance.
It has to be that he’s upset, you reason. You would prefer he’s upset; that’s fixable, doable, and completely normal for a couple. The alternative is harsh, a cruel thread of insecure thoughts; perhaps Steve has suddenly decided he doesn’t have time for you.
And it’s a lot harder to pretend that thought doesn’t sting terribly.
And look, you pride yourself on being a logical person. You’re not jumping to conclusions and you aren’t overreacting — at least, you really hope you aren’t. The suspicions aren’t unfounded. It doesn’t stop you from feeling a bit too unstitched, like an obsessed girlfriend who keeps too close tabs on her boyfriend.
Maybe it only feels that way because Steve isn’t checking up on you as much as he used to. The healthy two-way road you both shared has suddenly become, agonizingly, one-way.
You’ve been trying not to count the days apart, nor note the shortness of the calls — just a couple weeks ago, he was talking your ear off and rounding up the phone bill, so what happened? It follows you around, a soft weight that presses your shoulders down, til it leaks in every second thought like a sleepy poison.
You don’t want to be jealous. You don’t want to be clingy.
It’s criminal how you don’t know that Steve would love nothing more.
When it gets to one week without seeing him, some of the worry transforms. You let it turn you away from him, some part deep inside that doesn’t want to get hurt putting up the defenses early, just in case, and you throw yourself into work. Worry about trivial things in your everyday life instead of about him. You give him his space.
One week becomes two. 
You’re not sure what mixture of feelings bubbles up when he calls on Tuesday morning. It feels like resentment, which you desperately shove down — combined with relief, with happiness, to be hearing his voice again. Even if it’s just down the phone line.
“Hi Stevie,” you say into the phone, the affectionate name slipping out, pure habit.
Your grin, an instant result of hearing his voice, fades a bit. You remind yourself to rein in it, an echo of thought that you’re too clingy forcing its way to the forefront of your mind.
“Hi, angel.” He coos back over the line, melting at the sound of your voice. It’s been too long since he’s seen you — he practically sags against the wall, gripping the phone tighter as if it’ll bring you closer to him.
It’s been hectic. He’s been training the new hire at work, since Robin back at school, all while hustling to get in his application for the local community college. On top of that, he’s trying to wrangle the moving details of the new apartment he finally managed to get his name down on.
Hectic feels like the understatement of the century to Steve.
He could tell you — and god, Steve really wants to. But a bigger part of him wants to see the surprise when you realise he’ll have a place that’s all his. No more sneaking through windows or quiet kisses interrupted by someone getting up in the night; an uninterrupted space for his love. Somewhere only the two of you get to know.
He ignores the part of his heart that wants to ask you, sometime in the future, not just yet, to come with him. To make his place yours as well.
For now, it’s all about the surprise. He’d planned it from the beginning, since the moment the keys to the apartment had been pressed into his palm. Steve wanted to treat you, to some swanky candlelit dinner for Friday date night, roses at the door, the whole nine yards, instead of a usual movie date.
The pet name softens you. Something inside eases and you wonder if have been being dramatic — he doesn’t seem different, seemingly unaware of the distance. Hearing his voice makes you miss him all that much more.
“How’s your morning been, huh?” He asks. He could ask how your last couple weeks have been considering how long it’s been since he’s found time to come to see you. He gnaws at his lip, trying to ignore the ache in his heart, and hopes it’ll be worth it.
“It’s been good! I mean as good as-“
A knock sounds at Steve’s front door and he curses, interrupting your reply. You pause, waiting to hear why he’s interrupted.
“Shit, I’m so sorry I’ve gotta— there’s someone at the door.”
Your throat tightens uncomfortably and you swallow it down, praying it won’t come out when you speak. Your voice is thankfully even when you say, “That’s alright. Go get it, just- just call me back later, yeah?”
“Later, definitely,” Steve promises, feeling terrible for having to hang up on the first conversation he’s had with you in too long. What kind of boyfriend is he? He has half a mind to ignore the door, just to keep talking to you — but the knock comes again, more insistent.
If it’s Henderson, Steve swears he’s gonna kick his ass.
“I love you.” His voice says down the line, voice sweet and it’s still enough to kick your heart into a flurry. You feel a bit more settled hearing it and grin, even though he can’t see it.
“I love you too.”
It’s not Dustin at the door— it’s Eddie, flaunting a grin and a gesture to his rust bucket of a van parked in Steve’s drive. Both are here at Steve’s request. Taking all his boxes in the beemer would ensure more than a dozen trips across town. And even with all his excitement to be out of the Harrington house, Steve’s sure it would take all but three trips to tire him out.
Eddie’s a bit early, a far cry from his usual tardiness, and Steve curses his sudden change of habit, today of all days. He tells Eddie as much as he tapes up the last of his open boxes.
Eddie, ever the charmer, let’s Steve direct what to grab and what to leave without much lip, much to Steve’s relief. They talk, a light banter thrown between them, and Eddie asks all the right questions; When’s the first party? What courses is he taking? What lewd favour does he have to do for Steve to let him host DnD there on occasion?
By the time the last box is in the car, Steve shoving Eddie for the mere suggestion — “you can host if you ask like a normal person, dude.” — the phone call is long forgotten.
It’s not his fault, not really. There’s a special frenzy in filling the hardwood floors of his cramped new kitchen with boxes of his stuff, a euphoric buzz that only comes with molding a new space into a home.
By the time he’s unpacked what little he owns into the space — the kitchen only has one pan, two mugs, both gifted to him by Dustin on separate Christmas’, and one or two plates he thought his parents wouldn’t notice missing — it’s late.
The only piece of furniture in the place is some shitty couch he and Robin had dragged off the sidewalk the day before. It’s a bit gross but not so much that he could refuse something free.
Steve sinks into it, drinking in the sight of the empty boxes strewn around his new apartment. Something in his heart glitters happily. For the first time since Eddie showed up at his door, Steve finally relaxes.
It’s 11.41pm and all he wishes is that you were with him.
The phonecall.
Just as quickly as it slipped his mind, Steve remembers it. The memory of it sinks into his stomach heavily and quickly, punching out a breath. His insides twist up with blackened regret as Steve thinks back to how many hours ago he’d promised to call you back. His eyes flash to the watch on his wrist.
He deflates a bit, seeing how late it is. Even though he would — he’d call you at 2am, hell, whenever you asked him to, just to talk — Steve won’t wake your whole family just to apologise.
Shit, he thinks softly and screws his eyes closed for a moment. There was no telling what reaction you’d have, given he’d accidentally blown you off like you were some one-time date, not his girlfriend — hot anger or maybe, icy silent treatment. Nancy had done that to him once; her jaw tight and narrowed eyes giving away her anger even though she insisted I’m fine, Steve, so just drop it.
It’s made all the worse considering he hasn’t seen you in a couple of weeks. Regret feasts in his gut. All of a sudden, keeping all this moving a secret seems colossally dumb. Steve knows you would’ve jumped at the chance to help him move.
It’s an anguishing thought to imagine — the fact the two of you could’ve been unboxing this next chapter together. You’d work up a sweat from the exertion of moving boxes, random fly-aways sticking up and god, Steve would think you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And then he would’ve coaxed you down to the couch with his kisses til he was sure you knew it too. 
If he wasn’t so set on surprising you, maybe instead you’d be here with him now, nestled in his arms.
Instead, Steve’s alone and you’re across town thinking god knows what about him.
A groan fights its way out of Steve’s throat, dozens of thoughts spinning off each other on how to fix this. How can he make it up to you and make sure you knew he was still thinking of always.
But sleep had to come first.
— 
You’d never admit out loud how long you waited for the phone to ring.
After a certain amount of silence, you’d slowly bled back into your jobs around the house, never straying too far from the phone. You’re not sure what it is that fizzes under your skin but the longer the phone stays quiet, the more it stings. The distance between you and Steve feels yawning.
It rings, only once, and you leap for it — only to get your heart gets washed down the drain at the voice of one of your mother’s friends.
It makes getting up for your Wednesday morning shift seems an impossible feat.
He likely got busy, you have to remind yourself painfully. The Steve you knew would never, never purposefully leave you hanging. You hate the thought that pings into your brain, wondering if there really was anyone at the door. That he told you so he could escape the conversation quicker because he was avoiding you.
That, perhaps, this wasn’t your Steve anymore.
You have to repeat he called you to yourself firmly, trying to drown out the self-doubt. It doesn’t work.
It feels like something final has been decided by Steve and you’ve been left in the dark, grasping at straws. You can’t help but believe that the worst has been confirmed, that Steve doesn’t have time for you anymore. You feel grossly over-attached to him now and know that if you have to pull away, each thread connecting you to him will pull and hurt.
His phone call, Wednesday afternoon, right when Steve knows you’ll be home, doesn’t ease you much.
“I‘m—” He sucks in a huge breath, loud enough you can hear it over the phone. “—so unbelievably sorry that I forgot to call you back. Honest, I promise I had a really good reason to get distracted. I’m so so sorry, It won’t happen again, I swear, scout’s honour.”
The rambling words, tinged with nervousness, manage to persuade a smile out of you. The relief that washes over you feels charged, a bit overwhelming, so much that you can’t keep your voice even when you respond. 
“That’s okay.” You say a little weaker than you intend.
It makes the regret in Steve’s gut twist up a little tighter. It’s gut-wrenching to consider another reaction, that maybe you’re not angry with him but upset. Steve thinks that this is decisively worse. 
“Fuck, sweetheart, I—I’m really sorry.” He insists again, despair leaking into the words. He presses the phone closer. “Please let me make it up to you?”
“Sure.” You say, aiming for nonchalant but the word comes out too tight in your throat. Cursing yourself, you barrel on in hopes to keep Steve talking. You don’t really want to give away how much his distance has affected you. “What was it that distracted you, hm?”
“About that.” Steve chuckles light, beginning to feel his excitement wind up at the prospect of showing you the new place.
The original plan to wait til Friday, to do the proper date, is canned. The giddiness of his new place can’t be contained and there was no one he’d rather share it with than you. And fuck, he misses you.
It had been the last thing he had decided before drifting off to sleep, one of his last nights in his parents’ home. Rain or shine, whether you were angry or not, Steve needed to see you tomorrow.
“Are you free?” He asks, even though he knows you are. By Wednesday afternoon, you’re always free because he usually swings by and takes you out for shakes.
Eyes screwing shut, Steve holds in a wince at the realisation he’d missed that tradition with you for the last two weeks.
And you hadn’t mentioned a word to him.
His heart tears at the thought of you waiting on your doorstep like usual, while he’d been too preoccupied to even remember. He doesn’t want to think about how long it took you to realise he wasn’t coming.
“Can I come see you?” The words burst out before you’ve even answered his first question. It doesn’t matter — seeing you, feeling your touch again, and getting to deliver every kiss he’s saved over the past week takes top priority in his mind. “I promise I’ll—“
Steve thinks he might be cursed because this is the second time he’s been interrupted on the phone with you. This time, however, it’s a very specific hum of a car pulling in the drive; the engine sounding far too smooth to be Eddie’s.
Pulling the phone away from his ear, Steve whips around to peer out at the drive. A stone drops into his stomach at the sight. Beside his BMW, his parent’s car is parked in the usually vacant spot. Fuck.
They had told him they’d be gone a whole extra week and Steve had wanted to be out before they returned — to have everything he needed at the new place before his father decided he needed a lecture and a friendly rough-around on the way out as well.
“Steve?” Your voice warbles out the phone, pulled back from his ear. Steve jumps to attention, remembering himself.
“Baby,” he breathes into the phone, suddenly broken from his prolonged silence. You’re a bit concerned at this point, between his sudden cut-off and now hurried voice. “I- fuck, I have to go. I swear this—”
He groans, pent-up frustration leaking in as he hears the lock enter the front door, announcing his parents’ arrival.
How can he explain all this in the five seconds of privacy before his parents burst his bubble? Steve’s parents didn’t even know about you; dating was strictly a business prospect in the Harrington House. Steve had known from the beginning they would’ve never approved of you.
“Um, okay.” You sound a bit stiff and too casual. “That’s- that’s fine.”
“Please believe me,” He rushes out, eyes fixed on the front door as it opens. “I wouldn’t go if I didn’t absolutely have to.”
It doesn’t matter if they grill them about who’s on the phone, Steve needs to say i love you. Needs to hear it back.
Silence. No response from you. He’s talking to the dial tone.
— 
Your head is a storm.
Conflict rages wildly, a heavy thunder that might be your heartbeat — your anxiety has kicked it up a couple beats — and flashes of lightning, striking terrible thoughts, all contained within your head.
The fact Steve was the one to call you is too weak to keep your head straight. It hurts pathetically, to think you’ve been forgotten. Neglected by someone you hold in the highest regard — and he hadn’t even been able to tell you why. Another phone call where he’s clearly got more important things on his hands.
You didn’t want to hang up on him, not before the usual i love you’s; but if you had waited, then he would have heard how watery it was. Heard the quiver in your voice. And he’d drop everything, all his obviously very important plans, to come see you.
You don’t want him to come over because he’s made you cry — you want him to come over because he wants to see you.
It’s such a simple ask. The fact you think he’d deny you it, too busy, feels heavier than you’d ever imagined. Your pillowcase becomes well acquainted with the taste of your tears as you bury yourself under covers, trying desperately to keep your heart intact.
What happened to your clingy, always touchy, forever wanting you around, boyfriend? It aches to think that that chapter of your relationship may have passed.
Tiredness overtakes your misery at some point, drifting you off into fitful sleep that doesn’t provide any rest.
You’re drawn out of it a few hours later, soft touches that feel like Steve because you’ve felt them dozens of times before, memorised without thought — but Steve is busy or avoiding you, or some third worse thing you don’t want to consider. You shiver off the ghosting pressure in your hair.
A murmur of your name.
The touch of his palm, pressed against your hairline, startles you a bit when you realise it’s real. Your eyes pop open in your surprise, taken aback to find Steve before you. He’s here. 
Crouched by the bed, his hand pushes the strands of your hair back from your face with a gentle touch. He looks as upset as you feel, brows scrunched together in the middle— a frown pulls his lips down, eyes glistening with hurt. He’s upset to see you upset.
“Hi.” He whispers, all soft.
It’s dark out now. Hazarding a guess, you’d say you’ve been asleep for a couple of hours, aided by your exhaustion from crying. You can feel it, eyes stiff and nose still sniffly. It feels pathetic and so you roll in on yourself, tucking your face into your pillow for a moment.
You give yourself a moment to breathe, to gather words to speak to him without falling back to tears and asking outright why he doesn’t like you anymore. Steve’s hand, still stroking soft as ever, coaxes your face out of hiding, his thumb dipping to press warmth along your temple.
“What—“ It comes out too scratchy and you clear your throat. Steve’s hand still soothes your skin, thumb light and loving. “What’re you doing here?”
You don’t need to ask how he got in— Steve’s come in through the window enough times that the movements are all muscle memory. He chews his cheek in deliberation: where to start?
You’ve obviously been crying, a heart-wrenching fact that turns all the more foul considering Steve knows it’s because of him. Maybe even worse is remembering the conversations that had been clipped short, paired with his absence of the last couple weeks. He hasn’t been taking good care of you.
“Had to come see my girl, of course.” He says, low and sweet. His frown pulls up into a weak smile, fingers travelling down cup your face. His thumb catches the first tear that escapes, unbidden, and something alike to horror streams through his system.
“Sweetheart,” he dotes, emotion clinging tightly to his words — his thumb dutifully collects the next tear, as if it makes up the fact he’s caused them. “Wha—“
“Are we okay?”
You have to ask. You can’t handle another affection-soaked word out his lips if there’s still a possibility it may be the last time he’ll give them to you. Your heart aches unbearingly to ask, to even suggest the idea alone and tempt fate, but you have to know.
Steve’s eyes widen, lips parting and for a moment, he’s shocked into silence. It’s like each nerve alights in his body, a flush of physical pain at the mere suggestion you’re making.
You think the time apart is purposeful. Shame follows, scattered scolding thoughts at his carelessness for ever letting you think so. You won’t even look at him, eyes trained on the sheets. 
He faintly recalls being on the other end of this treatment; when Nancy had run around chasing monsters and left him to wonder why she’d decided to leave him out all of sudden. Like Steve, she’d had a perfectly good reason to do so — and yet seeing you like this still unravels the stitching of his heart which falls apart pitifully in his chest.
Every pet name soars to his mind but instead, he just says your name. 
You still don’t meet his eye. As gently as he can, Steve lets his fingers drift to your chin and coax your attention to him. Steve’s forever been about touch, he can think of a thousand different ways to apologise with a brush, a caress, a kiss — far better than he’s ever been at words. He leans in, slow and meaningful.
If you were upset normally Steve would wait, hover, and let you decide whether he’s allowed to steal a kiss. But right now you don’t need his hesitance, you need this; the sweet press of his lips that leaves no room for thinking anything else.
It’s weakening tender. You let the curve of his bottom lip come home to its place between yours.
He kisses you strong, so the fervor in his affection can’t be denied, to banish every thought that lead to your question of are we okay? All his pent-up kisses of the last weeks, all promised to you.
“Yes,” he breathes as he pulls back, still close enough to feel the heat of him. Steve watches your lashes flutter, eyes dance around his face, and settle on his own. “Please don’t ever think we aren’t.”
He kisses you once more and when you chase his mouth, he grants you another gladly, without thought. His lips graze up your face, a warm kiss to your cheek, to your nose, and a final one dropped onto your forehead.
“I’m sorry you thought we weren’t.” He murmurs into your hair. He’s all but encased you — nothing exists but the duvet and Steve before you, hands in your hair, lips on your skin, the scent of him curls comfortingly into your senses.
“I’ll forgive you if you come cuddle.” You grumble with a smile, happy to let yourself lean into his hand, soaking in the closeness. It’s not entirely true — you want answers, to know what has been eating up his time. But being in his arms, a hold you’ve missed for weeks now, will sate you if only for a bit.
Steve breaks into a smile at your words, eyes darting to your window momentarily. He licks his lips.
“Actually, I was hoping to show you something.” Steve suggests though it’s more a question than an insistence. “Show you what’s been keeping me from my girl.”
If you had said no, shook your head, or even just pulled back the duvet, Steve would’ve shucked off his jacket and had you bundled in his arms in an instant. He can see the ticking of your brain, eyes weighing up the tiredness alongside the curiosity of what’s kept your boyfriend from you.
Something in his poorly contained excitement, bottom lip cherry red from him he bites it, sways you.
“Okay.” You mumble, still softly spoken. You nod your head lightly, eyes scanning over his face to drink in the fondness you’ve craved for weeks. “Yeah, s’just wanna be with you right now.”
Your words manage to soften him even more, a ripple that melts through him. Torn between elation at the love and devastation that he’d been the one to keep you both apart for too long.
His thumb sweeps across your cheek once more, crowding back in to press a kiss to your forehead, murmuring his next words into the skin. “Course, honey. C’mon, lemme show you. Promise it’s worth it.”
Your fingers intertwine with his, strong and sure. The small time apart seems to spur you both closer, giggles spilling as you both clamber back out your window, Steve’s hands never parting from yours. The grass is cool against your ankles as you scramble out, stumbling into his chest when you lose your balance — relishing in how it only makes him tug you in tighter.
Even as Steve starts up the car, golden headlights illuminating the empty road, he only untwists his fingers long enough to put the car into gear. There’s nothing but the grumble of the engine, streetlights flashing past, and the cool leather seat beneath you.
At each turn, Steve lifts your hand and kisses along your knuckles, soft and warm. You think he’s still apologising. His eyes seem to be asking for forgiveness, glittering in the dark.
When your hands land back on your lap, this time you’re the one to lift them and brush a kiss along his hand. I forgive you. His grip tightens in your hand.
You’re not sure where you’re heading, too focused on your boyfriend to take note of the route — and it still doesn’t click even when Steve parks outside one of the downtown apartment buildings.
It all feels so juvenile, like giddy teenagers sneaking out, letting Steve pull you across the empty night-time streets with a giggle. The wind wraps around your bare legs, crisp and cool. You hadn’t changed before you’d both left.
It’s only when he spins his key ring around deftly, searching for a specific key, does something slide into place in your mind. Your eyes stare up at the building ahead, then at the keys on Steve’s key ring; he seems to be watching you in his peripheral, waiting for the shoe to drop. He’s smiling.
“Did you...?” You gasp quietly.
Eyes wide, you stare up at Steve and can’t finish your sentence. Your heart trips over itself in its excitement as you finally figure it out. Steve’s grinning now, only taking his eyes off you to insert the lock in the door to the building; he can tell you’ve figured it out now.
The lock makes a clunk as he twists the key, unlocking it. It feels like so much more than opening a door — it feels something akin to unraveling a thousand potential futures, all with you and Steve together in them. Everything about his absence makes sense, a jarring shift in perspective as you realise what he’s been doing all this time.
“What floor?” You ask, sounding a bit breathless already in your excitement. Steve pushes the door to the lobby open, holding it for you to pass through. There’s an elevator but you book for the stairs, clutching his hand the whole time. The lobby door snicks shut behind you, unheard.
Your footsteps clatter loudly, likely waking a few residents, but you can’t find it within you to care. Your thighs burn by the time you reach the top of the first set of stairs and whip around, finding Steve’s adoring grin following you. His hair is a little mussed from the rush.
He nods to the next staircase, fingers squeezing yours excitedly. “One more.”
Steve’s never been happier to let you drag him around, your excitement palpable in the energy of your run. It’s a far cry from your sleepy state earlier.
When you reach the top of the stairs, Steve takes the lead and your flurry of laughter follows him all the way to his new door. The pair of you crowd against it, tangles of arms and lips because you’ve suddenly decided it’s criminal to not kiss him right now.
It’s messy and rushed. You’re back is pressed against the door and Steve kisses you til your knees are weak, hot and hard, even as he tries to wiggle the lock open.
The moment it’s open, you both tumble in a clatter. You kick off your shoes and leave them at the door, spinning to drink in his new place. It’s barren, just a couch, not even a coffee table. You decide it’s already your favourite in the world.
Steve lets you go, watching as you zoom around the space, sliding into the kitchen with a gleeful sound that is far too noisy for the hour.
You’re pulling at every cupboard, leaving a row of open cabinet doors — it doesn’t matter that the apartment isn’t anywhere new, each of them seems endlessly interesting to you. Steve decided he’s had enough of watching, toeing off his shoes and skidding into the kitchen.
His arms around your middle surprise you, some yelp of shock that immediately fizzles into more laughter when Steve picks you up. It’s a halfhearted spin, more to hold you than anything and before you can spin and kiss him like you so desperately want, he’s taking you both down the hall.
Positioning you both in front of a door, Steve pauses. You think you know what door this is. A kiss on your temple. Another on your shoulder, one on your neck. He leaves his face there, nuzzled in closer, and gestures to the door with a jerk of his chin.
“Open it.” He murmurs, between another round of scattered kisses. Like it’s your new bedroom, not his.
Like the rest of the apartment, it’s more empty than not. A poorly made-up mattress against the back wall, beneath the window, and a few bags of clothes scattered throughout the room. You can recognise the forest green duvet cover on the mattress, familiar sheets.
It still smells like Steve when you bury yourself in them, Steve falling down beside you not a moment later. You relish in it all, being surrounded by all things Steve. You’ve missed it all in the weeks apart.
“You’ve certainly been busy.” You mean it as a tease— the fact he’s managed to wrangle down an apartment along with his job and organising college, it’s no wonder he hadn’t found time to see you.
Seeing how his grin dims, eyes drooping, you have no doubt it’s been weighing on him too. “Again, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. That last phone call—“
He sighs, rolling away from you and pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes. A groan rumbles out as he drags them down his face, remembering how you’d hung up on him just earlier today.
“Baby, it’s okay,” you hush him, dragging away his hands to cup his face with your own. His face still holds conflict, the tale of his day unwinding off his tongue before he can think.
“My parents came home early.” He admits, a bit weak. “I was trying to get everything out before they came back— you know how, uh, how they would’ve taken it.”
His eyes close, nose scrunched, just for a moment before he continues. “Eddie had just left to take the mattress over and I called you but that’s when… Well, that’s why we’re just on a mattress on the ground.”
Your light laughter hoists Steve’s mood upwards, feeling himself smile as he watches you beside him on the sheets. You shuffle closer, draping yourself across him so your cheek lays against his chest.
“We can get you a new bed frame.” You say like the prospect is more exciting than it is annoying. Steve adores how you say we — that you’ll come with him, pick things out for this next part of his life. Intertwine into the things he owns now, as well as in his heart. 
“I’m sorry for hanging up on you earlier.” You breathe a little softer, and then as if it’s just delayed from the call, you say, “I love you.”
Some part of him that Steve can’t ever seem to shake sighs in relief. Today is not a bad day at all. You’re here, in his arms, in his new place and you love him still.
“I love you too.” Steve hums, arms pulling tighter around you. “And I’m sorry for making you worry.”
When you look up at him, really look, his eyes are shining. His shirt is rumpled, hair ruffled from your tangle onto the bed and he looks utterly beautiful. It just won’t do. You shift upwards and when you kiss him, it’s hard and fiercely loving. Too much saved affection coming out in one go.
Steve sighs happily against your lips, arms tightening and when you break apart, Steve nearly asks then and there. Come with me. Make this our bedroom instead of just mine. We’ll make this somewhere only we know.
It’s not the time. Instead, he whispers his i love you’s onto your lips and when he spills all his half-baked plans for dates and the endless possibilities of the new space, when he promises to never worry you like that again — you’ve got no choice but to believe him.
His endless kisses won’t let you believe anything else anyways.
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@hawkinsindiana @spideystevie @harringtonbf​ @televisionboy
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