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loveshotzz · 15 hours

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I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve x fem!reader exes to lovers

Chapter Four -

Honey, on your knees when you look at me

The consequences of your actions hang heavy around you neck when you wake up, so you go to the shop to tell Steve this is definitely not what he thinks it is.

warnings: 18+ slight angst, confused feelings, semi public smut, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem receiving), body worship, praise kink, unprotected p in v smut, cream pie, fluff.

wc: 10k

authors note: This chapter has been almost two months in the making between life and writers block, I didn’t think I would be here. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages about this story and about him because of you, I never gave up writing this series I was so excited about. beta’d by: @superblysubpar

series masterlist | series playlist

songs from the playlist that inspired this chapter: Unravel Me, If You Think I’m Pretty, Please Don’t Fall In Love With Me, Make Up, Eastside, Holy.

Streams of shining golden yellow make your lids still heavy with sleep flutter, lashes tickling the tops of your puffy cheeks as you surrender to the sun’s wishes to wake you up. The orange shag carpet in Robin’s living room slowly comes into focus, along with the rest of your surroundings as the ends of your palms rub the rest of the night from your eyes. Stretching your legs, they’re met with warmth like the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds still lingering on the cushions next to you.

¨Shit.¨

Your muscles freeze, threatening to cramp in your calf as the night floods back into your memories. How his plush pink lips slotted between yours like they should never be anywhere else, or how they made your back arch, kissing a messy path down your neck, perfect teeth nipping, threatening to bruise your delicate skin that lights up under his touch.

A shaky breath pushes out of your lungs as you shimmy your body deeper into the couch, fingers finding their way to your chest where you swear you can still feel his smile pressed into your skin, the tips of them hitting something smooth and warm.

A metal chain.

The weight of it around your neck finally registers through the sleepy fog that lifts from your brain. Looking down the slope of your nose, you nearly go cross-eyed when you’re met with the rich yellow gold that matches the sun, especially because It looks just like the one that belongs to Steve Harrington.

“No, no, no, no.”

The realization that it is in fact, Steve Harrington’s kicks in just like your feet in a silent fit, the thin throw he must’ve put on top of you before he left falling to the ground. You remember his plea for a date, and it has panic curling deep in your gut, the consequences of your actions arriving first thing in the morning before you’ve even had any coffee.

There’s a little bit of pride that hides in a small space in your chest that you didn’t just fold and say yes. Something you would have done in high school when he was giving you much less. Still, you didn’t say no. You were just prolonging the inevitable matter of letting him down right? It’s the self-respecting thing, it’s what you told yourself you’d always do.

Say no.

You twist the metal between your fingers, your eyes finding the dust particles that seem to float between the plastic of Robin’s blinds. There’s an ache in your heart at the fresh reminder of what it feels like to be held in his arms, something he rarely did when you were dating, at least not if it wasn’t the dead of night. The sleepovers at his big empty house were your favorite until you realized how sad it was. All his whispered secrets and deep confessions that he only shared when you were lit by the moonlight - the kind that hid all the stars in the sky and that boy he was trying to hide. The ones that kept you hanging onto hope until the last bit of rope tethering you to him, cut your skin. Those were the nights that really made you have to run.

You’re not sure if you could survive it again, and the end of August is only a distant friend. Pushing yourself off the couch, your eyes catch the bright bold numbers on the microwave that read 9:45 AM and you try to remember all the reasons you left in the first place. Not the way he looked at you last night in the kitchen making your best friend’s favorite snack.

Your flip-flops clack loudly against the hot pavement, the determination in your walk up to the shop threatening to set the street ablaze. The spaghetti strap sundress you threw on in a rush trying to be careful not to wake up Robin does very little to help cool you or your mood down when you’re met with the mugginess of the Midwest.

Steve’s chain bounces against your chest with each step, the gold shimmering against the sunlight in a pretty reminder that you still haven’t taken it off yet. One that you choose to ignore in your huff trying to think of all the mean things he's done and not the way he begged you to make it right.

Reaching the end of the block, you notice Eddie’s van is missing from the parking lot, leaving only Steve’s BMW against the side of the shop. It stops you dead in your tracks because the buffer that would stop you from making the same mistake isn’t there. Your proven lack of self-control only a few weeks into the summer has your confidence waver with nerves that try and get the best of you, but with a deep breath, you force your feet to keep moving.

Steve’s side of the garage is the only one open, the faded green metal door at half-mast to keep some of the sun away. Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel bleeds out of the open space, bouncing and echoing off the cars inside, waking up the butterflies and sending them soaring. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you try not to imagine the way he’s probably singing along, or that curl that won’t stay in place, falling over his forehead as he bobs his head to the beat.

Why is Eddie not here?

You see his black work boots first, then the legs that were intertwined with yours just a few hours ago, now adorned by blue coveralls. Walking across the grease-stained cement, he comes to an abrupt stop, and for a second you think maybe he sees you, heart thumping wildly in your chest until he shuffles back a few steps before continuing forward.

He was dancing and you hate the way the corners of your mouth twitch because of it.

The smell of oil is bittersweet hitting your nose as you stop in front of the opening, silently working up the courage to duck under the door. Steve doesn’t notice your sneaky entrance from where he stands at his workbench with his back facing you, completely lost in whatever’s on the paper he’s holding in black-stained hands. It gives you the few minutes you need to get your thoughts together as he bops his head to the music that’s loud enough to hide you a little bit longer.

Your gaze lands on Eddie’s empty office, successfully diminishing the last bit of hope you clung onto that maybe he just didn’t drive today, before your eyes catch the burnt orange of your car tucked away in the corner. A cherry red Corvette sits parked in front of it, making your face sour at the instant comparison. It outshines the car you scraped up enough money to get after moving to the city, sparking the kind of anger you’d been scrambling to cling onto walking up here. Maybe if your car hadn’t broken down, you wouldn’t have kissed Steve Harrington, and then maybe you wouldn’t be standing here secretly wanting to do it again.

Clinging to that notion with everything you have, you take a deep breath, straightening your posture before clearing your throat, letting him know he wasn’t by himself anymore.

”The music’s a little loud don’t you think?”

The pleased grin that spreads wide across your face can’t be stopped when the sound of your voice makes him jump with a ‘Jesus Christ’ so loud you can hear it over the music, crumbling the paper in his hands.

Point one - you.

Your victory is short-lived the moment Steve turns around with his ever changing brown eyes that are somehow warmer in the daylight, reflecting the flecks of green that shine and light up even more at the realization that it’s you and not some random intruder. He runs those long fingers through his hair, trying to tame the mess on top of his head that you made, while his heavy stare fixates on the chain still hanging off your neck. Right where he left it.

Leaning over to turn the volume down on his boombox, he doesn’t break eye contact, giving you that crooked smile that makes your heart skip a beat pushing up the two moles on his cheek. Raising his hands in a silent apology, you try not to think about how big they look or the way they grabbed at your hips last night. It's a fruitless effort, so you try to make up for it with a sassy tongue.

”Wow, I could have easily stolen one of these cars if I had wanted to.”

Crossing your arms, you suck at your teeth, deciding that standing right where you are is the best move, especially when you see the sweat that glistens, beading off of his tan skin, curling the coarse hairs on his chest that’s hardly hidden by the sheer white of his tank top. At least his coveralls are fully on this time.

“Maybe I should report you to Eddie.”

“Most of the cars in here don’t run,” Steve tuts, dark eyes roaming over your curves hugged tight by the soft cotton of your dress unashamed before meeting your narrowed gaze, “You of all people should know that.”

“Sounds like maybe you’re just bad at your job.”

You ignore the uncontrollable press of your thighs that only gets worse the more his smile widens with your attitude, reading your body language like his favorite book.

“Did you come here just to pick a fight?” Steve sighs, carding another hand through his hair, threatening to punch the air out of your lungs when he looks up at you through his lashes “Or do you just want another kiss?”

It’s impossible to sound out the word ‘no’ even though it’s just two letters because watching him lick his full bottom lip before tugging it between his perfect teeth makes you wish it was yours instead.

“Is that it baby?” Steve taunts, pushing himself off the work bench and tossing the crumbled paper aside.

”No,” you finally manage to get out, but the venom you had less than twenty-four hours ago is gone, and it barely stings when you try to deny with a jut of your chin and a quieter than intended, “That’s not why I’m here.”

The little bit of self-control you’ve been hanging onto with an iron grip starts to slip from in between your fingers with each heavy thud of his boots that bring you closer to your demise as he closes the gap.

”Are you sure?” He asks with a glint in the darkening russet of his eyes that land on the gold wrapped around your neck again, close enough now to smell last night's leftover cologne.

“A-absolutely,” you stutter, taking a few steps back, the clack of your flip flops echoing, making you wince with embarrassment as you try to counteract his advances only for your back to hit the cool metal of a pickup truck.

”Hmmm, I know what it must be then,” he hums, a faint hint of smirk twisting the corners of his full lips, big boots stopping with a scuff on the cement floor right in front of your pink painted toes.

Reaching up, his bold fingertips trace the smooth edges of his chain, rough calluses tickling your collar bone daring to explore a little more. The quick rising of your chest spurs him on as he tries to hold his composure, teasing the dip of your breasts, he curls his finger around the metal, lifting the chain a little before letting it fall back into place. Mischief twinkles in his stare that matches the same color staining his hands.

“You must be here to tell me when you’ll be ready for our date later tonight, huh baby?”

It takes your brain a second to catch up, the freckles that spread across his cheeks like wildfire in the light distracting you from this close.

“The opposite actually,” clearing your throat, you try to hide the way your tongue dries when he looks at you like this, “I’m here to say that whatever happened last night doesn’t change anything.”

The corners of his lips twitch, his gaze getting lost in the details of your features like you weren’t denying him, finally giving you the fuel you needed to make your blood simmer, the anger you thought you’d lost forever buzzing under your heated skin.

“So!” You snap your fingers in his face, interrupting whatever daydream he was getting lost in, getting the glare you were searching for, “You better get that out of your head right now. We’re not going on a date.”

Your words finally bite with a tone that almost seems final and for a minute it starts to feel like you have a semblance of your self-control back. Holding your head up high, you try to really end whatever started on your best friend's couch last night.

“We can be friendly for Robin’s sake, but it’s never going to happen again. I’m not your girl, Harrington.”

Steve rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something you can’t quite put your finger on flashing behind the gold in his eyes. Leaning forward, his hand finds the chipped teal paint of the truck behind you. Caging you in, the spice of his cologne overwhelms you as it mixes with the heat in the garage, and the sweat glistening on his tan skin. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheeks that burn like they’re being licked by a flame, thighs pressing harshly under your dress as you try not to let his gaze swallow you whole.

“If that’s how you really feel, fine.” He says cooly, seemingly unphased and it makes your blood boil more. “I’ll take my chain back now then.”

“No.”

“No?” He snorts incredulously at your refusal, watching the way your fingers come up to play with it. Taunting him.

”I don’t even know why you put it on me in the first place,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes, channeling his nonchalance before ducking under his arm, your escape in sight.

You refuse to look back at him making a beeline to the open garage door, heart thumping wildly in your chest as you do your best not to give away the attachment you have to the weight of it around your neck that you really aren’t ready to unpack yet.

”I left it!” Steve yells hot on your heels, the cracks in his confident demeanor starting to show, “I left it so you didn’t think I just disappeared on you this morning because I personally have zero regrets about what happened last night.”

The sarcastic ‘HA!’ you let out is almost comical, picking up your pace with an extra sway to your hips because you know he’s staring.

”How about this, Steve?” You antagonize, turning around and walking backward with a smug grin that mirrors his from before, “I’ll think about it.”

Steve doesn’t take the bait, instead, he side-steps quickly to smash the round red button on the wall with a deadpan face. Letting the rumble of the garage door coming to life do all the talking for him.

”Are you serious?!“ You shriek, watching it close faster than your feet can carry you, even contemplating a tuck and roll when you see the sunlight and any chance you have at not going back on your promise start to disappear behind it.

“It’s simple honey,” he sighs with an irritated edge, “Give me my chain and I’ll open her back up so you can go run back to Robin’s and pretend like last night never happened. Just the way you want, right?”

”This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Let me out asshole!”

A new level of stubbornness that you never thought you could reach locks you in place, facing him with arms crossed tight over your chest.

”I’m ridiculous?” Steve chuckles darkly, the steel toe of his boots echoing louder now that you’re sealed inside as he walks towards you, “Look at yourself.”

”What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap despite the way your teeth gnaw nervously on your bottom lip, greedy eyes roaming his tall frame as your body betrays you for what feels like the hundredth time today when he steps into your space again.

“I know you enjoyed drama club in high school, but you’ve always been a terrible actress.”

“And you’ve always had way more confidence than you should.”

Steve’s nostrils flare, his gaze threatening to set you on fire.

”I’m going to get back to work, you’re free to go whenever you give me my necklace back. I’m getting paid to be here all day baby, you aren’t, so just know that I’ve got time.” He holds your stare for a second longer, sucking at his teeth before turning around. Testing you.

“Come take it off me then, Harrington, if you want it so bad.”

Two can play that game.

He stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing at the implication of your words, turning his head to the side, he gives you a perfect view of his sharp jawline.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, with a tone sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

“I said,” your shoulders square with a defiance that matches your glare, acting as if you aren’t sealing your fate with the next four words, “Come and get it.”

Steve’s long strides close the distance faster than you can comprehend. A big hand grabs at your hip, grease-stained fingers digging into your curves, while the other cups the side of your face, surely leaving a mark. He's getting what he really wants.

Gasping into his mouth, the force of his kiss sends a shudder through the garage door when your back slams against it. Lost in the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, you barely notice. Your fingers weave through the thick locks of his hair at the nape of his neck as if they were always meant to be there. A harsh tug on the silky strands earns you a groan that's deeper than you remember, and you immediately want to hear it again.

The clash for dominance ignites as your tongues collide clumsily, teeth grazing and noses pressing into each other’s cheeks. His grip tightens on your hip in a warning before his hand trails down to where the bottom hem of your dress rests at the top of your thigh. Pushing up the thin fabric, the blunt tips of his nails skim across your soft skin, goosebumps pebbling despite the heat.

His fingers tease the edge of your panties, tracing the curve where they meet your ass, stealing your whine with a cocky grin that he kisses into your lips. He lingers just long enough to turn you needy before he hooks your knee around his waist, getting the instant roll of your hips and more of your little noises that will haunt his every waking thought after this.

“Steve,” you breathe, tugging your swollen bottom lip between your teeth while he starts kissing a slow, agonizing path down your jaw, tickling you with the stubble on his cheek.

He hums in between kisses, nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear, he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue before he starts to suck–hard. Your moan bounces off the metal and concrete that surround you, echoing in your ears while your greedy fingers tug even harder at his roots. His grip on you tightens when you start to squirm as his efforts to mark what’s his intensify, leaving a bruise you’ll have to explain to Robin later.

”Yeah?” He mumbles against your heated skin, the tip of his nose running along your pulse point, a saccharine smile pressing into the curve of your neck where his chain still rests.

“Shut up,” you manage to get out, despite Steve leaving open-mouthed kisses on the swell of your breasts, palming roughly at the dough of your ass, encouraging another rock of your hips.

“You're always so mean to me, honey,” Steve sighs, nipping at the supple skin, before meeting your poor attempt at a glare from under the thick hood of his lashes.

”Yeah? And? What are you gonna do about it?” You bite, but it doesn’t sting the way you want it to, not with the way your chest heaves in anticipation of his next move.

Steve flips you around so quickly that the change in position has you gasping, your palms meeting the warm metal of the garage door that bakes in the sun outside. Heavy work boots push your legs apart, while hot breath that rivals the summer dances across the nape of your neck. He presses himself into you, letting you feel just how hard you really have him, the tip of his nose brushing along the shell of your ear. Butterflies multiply, tickling your rib cage just like your lashes that kiss the tops of your cheeks.

“I think it's pretty obvious what I want to do,” he whispers against your neck, lips ghosting across the freshly formed bruise, “The real question is…”

The backs of his fingers brush along the sides of your breasts, goosebumps pebbling across your skin. His big hands follow the curve of your waist, smoothing down to the tops of your thighs. Taking his time, he curls them under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to rest on top of your hips, still giving you the chance to stop him. One you don’t take.

“Are you gonna let me?” His words are gruff coming out next to your ear, your walls fluttering around nothing because of it.

The humid air doesn’t help your sticky thighs that only get worse as two of his calloused fingers trace agonizingly slow along the waistband of the only fabric separating you now. Peppering soft kisses to all the sensitive spots that make your skin come alive, his teeth nip playfully at your earlobe, fireworks lighting up in the sky behind your eyes when he takes it into the heat of his mouth. The sensation has you mewling, jaw going slack as your toes curl into the foam of your flip flops from a feeling only Steve Harrington can give.

”I could be so nice to you, baby,” he whispers, letting you go with a pop, his fingers daring to go lower than just teasing, smirking against your cheek at the gasp you give when he drags them through your slick folds, wrapping your hands around his wrist for support, your hips chase him for more. “Don’t you want that?”

Your pride has your teeth biting into your bottom lip. Refusing to answer his question loaded with too many double meanings for your head to wrap around right now, but you still spread yourself wider for him, because the last thing you want him to do is stop.

“Gonna make me earn it, huh?” He breathes, biting back his groan at how you start dripping down his hand, “That’s okay. I’ll show you I’m worthy.”

His promise is enough to finally draw out the moan you’ve been fighting, the sound making him kick up in his coveralls, while the movements of his wrist become more pointed. Your head lulls back against his broad shoulder, and his cologne smells even better with the way sweat starts to drip from his pores. Your eyes are needy, meeting the black coffee of his and you know it, especially at the furrow of his brows when he looks at you completely transfixed.

“God, I almost forgot how soft you are. How fucking wet you get for me.” He whispers between gritted teeth, awestruck at the feeling of your silk walls begging him for more, daring him to explore, “Bet you taste even sweeter than I remember too.”

Leaning down, he runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours, the mint that still lingers on his breath tickling your lips. Your hips roll with the rhythm of his wrist, warmth spreading across your cheeks as the sounds of just how wet you are echo in the big space. Too close to falling apart all over his fingers to care, the blunt ends of your nails dig half-crescent moons into his wrist chasing it.

“Baby, are you gonna come already? I’ve barely touched you.”

His words mock you despite the sugary sweetness they drip with, every swipe against your bundle of nerves becoming unrelenting, determined even. But it’s still enough for you to take the bait and force your eyes open, meeting his hungry stare dead on and say:

”Y- you wish it was that easy.”

Amusement dances across the hard lines of his face, his dark gaze narrowing before something between a laugh and a growl rumbles deep from his chest. The motions of his wrist come to a halt, and it takes everything inside of you not to cry in protest. Pulling his hand from your soaked panties, his wet fingers dig into your hips spinning you around, quick strides pushing you to the corvette that started your spiral.

“What are you doing?!” You squeal, your butt hitting the cherry-red metal of the hood that sticks to your sweat-slicked skin.

He just grins, the pearly whites of his teeth showing as grease-stained hands spread your knees apart enough for him to step between, leaving raven fingerprints in their wake before grabbing at your chin, he forces you to look at him.

“Need you to keep your eyes on me, honey, and remember what you just said.” He pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb, watching it pop back into place.

Letting go of your chin, he holds your stare, fingers ghosting across the tops of your thighs as he drops to his knees like someone praying to a god. Hooking his arms under your bent legs, he tugs you to the end of the hood with a squeak. Spread wide for him to see, your calves rest on top of his shoulders that you hate to admit you wish you could see. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose traces the wet path of your covered folds, breathing you in like the sweetest summer breeze.

When his big eyes meet yours from between your thighs, just begging you to get lost in them like you used to, it’s almost enough for you to forget the game you’re both supposed to be playing. There’s a softness that lingers inside melting caramel that manages to shine through the black that overpowers it, and you wonder if he can hear the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

His touch is gentle now, long fingers curling around the waistband of your underwear, silently asking you for permission to cross the line that deep down you know there’s no going back from. Nodding your head with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you even help him, lifting your legs when he pulls them from around your ankles.

Steve stuffs the satin in his pocket ignoring the way you tell him that you want them back. His pink tongue that’s seconds away from being your undoing wets his lips, jaw going tight at the sight in front of him. Roses bloom on his tan cheeks, and he can’t help but run a hand through his hair, the reality setting in that he really has you like this. He looks completely wrecked. At least it isn’t just you.

“Fuck.” He breathes, the blunt ends of his nails digging into the dough of your thighs, shuffling himself even closer, his eyes glaze over.

Goosebumps pebble across your buzzing skin, your velvet walls fluttering around nothing as you lose the witty response you had saved on the tip of your tongue, managing just a quiet, “I thought you were supposed to show me somethin’?”

His lips twitch so close to where you need him most that you can almost feel the curve of them, your knees bending just a little more, urging him on by his shoulders.

“So impatient,” he tsks, the vibrations of his words only making it worse, “My girl needs me huh? She missed me as much as I missed her didn’t she?”

“Steve - shut uhhhhohmygod!”

His mouth latches onto your cunt like he’s thirsty for everything you’re offering him, collecting your dripping honey that’s sweet on his tongue. Running a broad stripe up your folds, his grip on your thighs tightens when you start to squirm, holding you in place, as he swirls messy circles on your bundle of nerves before sucking it hard enough for your head to fall back against the car. Your fingers bury themselves into the sweaty silk of his hair, pulling harshly at the roots, earning the kind of grunt that has you whimpering, dripping down the stubble on his chin as your hips buck up to meet him.

Letting you go with a loud pop, he huffs out a dark laugh at your whine, hardly giving you time to recover before pulling you even further down the hood of the car, till your ass hangs off the edge. The tip of his nose brushes against your sensitive clit while his tongue begins to tease your entrance that quivers just for him. The new angle has you practically sitting on his face, and before you have a chance to overthink it he slowly starts to work you open with his greedy mouth.

”Holy shit I -“ Your eyelids droop, jaw going slack as he starts to move side to side, licking into you like you’re the sweetest prize. His nose adds just the right amount of pressure while he eats you up like a man starved, “You’re gonna - fuck - Steve!”

His hands move from your thighs to the soft fat of your ass, encouraging your hips more, and if you weren’t so far gone, you’d be scared you’re suffocating him. You dare to look down at the scene between your legs, and it’s almost enough to have you cumming all over his face. His pitch-black eyes gaze up at you enamored, completely lost and still hungry because after all these years it’s still not enough. He moans into your folds when you meet his half-lidded stare, the sensation vibrating in all the right places, making your legs shake.

The feeling of your walls pulsing tight around his tongue, knowing how close you are already has him twitching painfully hard in his coveralls. It’s enough to ignore the discomfort of his knees, doubling down on the movements of his jaw. His name bounces off the metal and concrete, while the roll of your hips gets more and more aggressive because it feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, the tip of his tongue reaching the spot that makes you gasp.

“Right there, shit, right there, right there, I’m gonna, oh my god I’m gonna cum!”

Your scream is silent, body going rigid, giving into him already. The muscles in your legs tense, as your thighs squeeze tight around his head while your pussy tries to push him out but he only doubles down with a completely relentless tongue. He moans loud enough inside you to hear through the ringing in your ears, your fingers curling harshly in his thick locks, back hitting the metal of the hood again.

He ignores the first few pushes against his forehead when his kitten licks become too much before he finally listens. Sticky legs fall open releasing him from a trap he never asked to escape from, his shiny wet lips leaving kisses along your shaking thighs, tickling the supple skin with the stubble on his jaw. You feel his tongue dart out to collect everything he missed, earning the kind of sweet noises he can’t wait to hear all summer long.

Steve stands up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and you try to be mad at his smug grin but your body can’t help its reaction to the way he struggles against his coveralls. The hard outline of dick reminds you of the stretch that you know will ruin you for anyone else, spent walls fluttering despite yourself.

”Now what was that you were saying a few minutes ago, pretty girl?” Leaning down, his palms find a new home on either side of your head.

The whites of his teeth shine at the eyeroll you find enough energy to give him, even with your legs wrapped around his waist. His nose nudges the tip of yours, the playful glint in his eyes changes into something lovesick and it brings the ache in your chest back because you know it’s going to hurt even worse walking away again.

“Hey, what’s going on up there?” He questions, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he searches your face for answers.

You don’t give him one, pushing aside the worry for when you lay awake in the middle of the night. Instead, you let your fingers wrap themselves in the cotton of his tank top, pulling him to your lips that silently beg him to help you forget. He meets you with an eager mouth, and a big hand that comes up to rest on your flushed cheek. The pad of his thumb traces the high bone while his tongue asks you for permission for more.

Your thighs lock tighter around his waist, granting him the access he wants, tasting yourself all over him. Shaking fingers find the zipper of his jumper, tugging down the metal, he helps your shimmy off his sleeves. The freckles that dot his shoulders like the night sky beg you to open your eyes as the top of his coveralls fall to his sides, the rock of his hips making you say his name like it’s the sweetest thing.

“Want you,” you whisper with a nip at his bottom lip, ankles crossing at the two dips you know are on his lower back.

”Baby,” He groans, dropping his head down, burying it in the crook of your neck as you roll your pussy over the length of him that’s still covered by the navy blue material you can’t seem to get off fast enough.

He lets you do it a few more times before his hands find both your wrists, pinning them above your head, he peppers kisses along your jaw, letting his fingers glide down the length of your body, making sure to catch his chain still hanging off your neck as he stands back up. You finally get a good look at him, and the sight is enough to know the memory of today will be etched into the corners of your mind, just like the rest of them.

Pink cheeks still kissed by the sun, and dark chestnut hair that matches his eyes twist at its golden ends in an even bigger mess now on the top of his head. The thick thatch of it on his chest curling from the sweat that drips down his neck, leaving translucent patches along the white cotton of his tank top, teasing even more of him to your starving gaze. His uniform hangs low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of the waistband of his boxer briefs, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He grabs at the sides of your thighs, his handsome face going kind.

“You came in here ready to tell me to fuck off,” he laughs softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles, “I just need to know this is what you really want.”

His words tighten in your chest, forcing you to make a decision so that when you have no one else to blame but yourself when you lay awake in your apartment with a broken heart in the fall, you can’t hate him anymore.

“I really want it.”

The answer stumbles past your lips before you can think too hard about it, pulling the rest of your rucked up dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed for his heavy chocolate eyes to drink in. Despite the muggy heat of the garage, your nipples pebble under it, cheeks going hot because you always feel like the most beautiful girl in the world when Steve Harrington looks at you like this.

It’s all the encouragement he needs to let you go and do the same with his tank top, tossing it to the side before shoving the rest of his uniform down the tops of his thighs. Thick, long and heavy, your eyes widen as his hard length springs free, smacking against the happy trail at the bottom of his stomach. The pink tip leaks for you, shining with precum, while his big hand wraps around it, tugging a few times and making you drip more on the hood.

“I’ll go slow,” he coos, leaning down to capture your lips in something sweeter than the rest of them. “I know you can take it, honey.”

Nodding your head, you look up at him with glassy eyes, completely giving in, shutting off the part of your brain that’s telling you that you know better. Spreading your legs wider, his eyebrows marry in the middle of his forehead, cursing under his breath at the sight of you like this. He silently thanks whatever gods or girl that got Eddie sick, because this moment shatters any fantasies that have consumed his late nights.

He runs the length of his cock through your slick, spreading you apart around him, earning the kind of mewl that makes him twitch in his hand. Your back arches off the corvette when he does it again only this time with added pressure to your clit. Locking your legs around his waist, you make sure he doesn’t get away.

”So fuckin’ beautiful baby, Jesus Christ, look at you.” Steve grunts, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip into the tightening silk of your walls before both his hands find their way back to your hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. ”Wanna make you feel so good. You gonna let me?”

“Mmhmm,” you whimper a little high pitch and out of breath, letting go of all the control you’ve hung onto for the last five years with a dirty roll of your hips that begs to suck him in.

“Oh fuck, you’re still so - shit.” Steve practically whines, his jaw going hard with eyebrows that pinch together, trying to regain his composure from the way you pulse around him just nudging halfway in, the aftershocks of your first orgasm have you feeling every ridge of his cock, lighting your body up.

The stretch burns, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as flames lick deep in your gut from the feeling you’ll never get enough of. His calloused fingers grab at your chin, demanding your attention. Your lashes tickle the tops of your cheeks as you force them back open, only to find his face is closer now, both his palms landing on either side of your head, black iris’s threatening to drown you, holding your gaze with the kind of intensity that makes your heart palpitate.

”I want to look at you.” He breathes against your lips as one swift thrust has you completely filled up.

”Steve!”

Gasping into his mouth, it takes all of your strength to keep your eyes open, focusing on the imperfect circles of the chestnut freckles that explode across the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah?” He smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, the rough hair on his chest tickling the softness of your breasts, nipples pebbling as your arms wrap around his neck.

“It feels, you feel -“

A loud moan rumbles from the back of your throat when the tip of him hits the spot that makes your toes curl into the fat of his ass, pushing him even deeper, the ends of your nails dig pretty marks all over his shoulders.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” He grunts, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, the roll of his hips becoming a slow grind.

His pelvic bone hits your bundle of nerves just right while the tip of him bullies the spot that has your eyes threatening to close against his wishes, and it has you sounding like ‘Steve’ is the only word you’ve ever known. It’s a hazy mess inside your mind, especially when he looks at you like this. It’s worse than before, and you don’t know how you’re going to find your way back this time, something different inside of his gaze that you know is going to make it impossible.

”Missed you so much, so damn gorgeous angel, think about you all the time. All the fucking time.” Steve babbles, completely drunk off the way you flutter at his words, the angry facade you’ve been putting on crumbling around him as your body lets the truth come out.

The confession makes your chest tighten with all the unresolved feelings you’ve shoved down for so long, the ones you almost forgot were there until a few weeks ago. Fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck you lean up, capturing his lips to shut him up, rocking your hips to meet his thrust. He grunts into your mouth, cock twitching against your walls, eagerly licking into your mouth.

It’s easier to get lost in him without the reminder of what used to be, teeth scraping together as the kiss gets messier. The metal of the car crunches and bends under your movements, but neither one of you can find it in you to care with noses pressing into each other's cheeks, tongues fighting for the kind of dominance your hips are at war about.

Steve is the one that breaks first, coming up for air, with eyes that seem even darker than before as he pushes himself up to stand. Big hands grab at your hips as a loose strand of hair falls across his forehead. Pulling halfway out, he takes a moment to admire the sheen you coat him, pink tongue darting out to lick his swollen lips before shoving himself all the way back in.

”Oh my god!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the hood, your hands landing on top of his, fingernails digging into the tops of them.

“I wanna watch you cum again, can you do that for me, baby?” He tugs you closer, your body squeaking across the metal that tries to stick to your skin, the tip of him hitting that spot again.

Nodding your head, every hard thrust of his hips echoes through the garage, the car shaking underneath you as tires threaten to roll. He feels himself getting close, the pad of his thumb finding your clit to rub the kind of messy circles that have you saying his name just how he likes.

“Come on, let me see how pretty you can get, let me have it.” He coos, finding the perfect combination to make you come undone all over him.

Your walls clench hard enough to try and push him out but he just buries himself deeper, a loud groan rumbling from his chest watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. White dances behind your heavy lids that squeeze shut as your legs start to shake around his waist. You try to shove his hand away, but he refuses, remaining relentless, milking your second orgasm for everything it's worth, making you cum even harder.

“Yeah, that’s it, that’s iiiiit, so fuckin’ good for me.” He praises, completely lost in the way your body responds to him and it’s enough to send him flying over the edge he’d been teetering on since had you against the garage door.

A string of curse words falls pretty from his lips, twitching hard inside you and with the last bit of strength you have, you squeeze him even tighter, relishing in the way his jaw goes slack because of it. The movements of his thumb finally end its assault so he can grab onto your sides with both hands, fingers digging bruises as one last hard thrust has his warmth filling you up.

The feeling of being so full sends your body buzzing, watching him fall apart on top of you with sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. His head drops between his shoulders, body shaking as his orgasm rakes through him. Red cheeks and skin so warm it rivals the sun, he lets himself collapse on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck totally spent, still chasing his high with a slow circle of his hips.

Your nose finds its way into his damp hair, inhaling deeply because it somehow smells even better than before. You wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you know you should leave and forget this ever happened, but it feels too good to have hands sliding up your curves as he starts to drip out of you and onto the car.

“God, Eddie’s going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin, making you squirm because it tickles, and you can feel him smile because of it.

“How’s he gonna find out?” You giggle, the metal of the Corvette popping under your shifting weight.

”Baby.” Steve snorts, leaving a kiss on the curve of your jaw before pushing himself up on his elbows, the endearment falling too easily off his tongue in a casual way, reminding you very quickly of your reality.

It’s harder to meet his eyes that search for yours, but you do anyway. They’re warm again, like a dark sand beach and it's hard not to want to lay out a towel and live inside them. Both of you wince as he pulls himself out, cursing under his breath at your walls staying greedy and trying to pull him back in.

He doesn’t notice the shift in your demeanor pulling up his coveralls and tying the sleeves around his waist, or if he does he chooses to ignore it, grabbing your dress off the floor before offering you his hand. There’s less grease staining them now and you know it's because it's all over you, completely marked by him nearly head to toe whether you like it or not.

Sliding your hand in his, you duck your head down as you take it, legs wobbling when your feet hit the ground, not missing the smug grin that pushes up his cheeks clocking it. You go for your dress but Steve just tuts at you pulling it out of reach, ignoring your scoff he shakes it out before lifting it above your head signaling for you to put your arms up. Rolling your eyes with a smile you can’t fight, you pretend not to feel the butterfly wings tickling your ribcage, turning around and doing as he asks, letting him drag the soft cotton down your body. Calloused fingertips tracing the goosebumps they create.

”Let’s go get cleaned up in the bathroom,” he hums softly, grabbing you by the hips, and pressing a kiss into the fresh bruise behind your ear.

You tell yourself you’ll leave after this letting him guide you by the waist and a chin on your shoulder. You think it again when the small space of the bathroom is filled with giggles and bashful smiles as he sits you on the closed toilet seat, wetting paper towels that turn into mache in his hands. You scream at yourself to do it watching him try and fix his hair in the mirror after wiping you down the best he can, pressing kisses on both your kneecaps.

“I’ve been using this new product, but nothing hits like Farrah. I can’t believe they discontinued it. Dustin swears he can find me some, but who knows if you can even trust it’s the real deal, you know?”

Steve interrupts your inner turmoil with a face that’s far too serious for the words that just left his mouth and the thoughts running through your head. Your mood shifts almost instantly with a laugh loud enough to turn his cheeks the color of your toes, giving you an exaggerated eye roll despite the twitch of his lips.

“I can’t believe you still hang out with a middle schooler.” You tease, getting up on your feet, legs feeling a little less like jello but the reminder between your thighs only seems to intensify.

”I told you he’s like 19 - “

”Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Steve,” you grin, taking the break in the intensity of everything to try and work up the self-control to leave, wincing at the echoing clack of your flip flops that give you away instantly.

”Wait, where are you going?” Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, turning around to face you, he tightens the sleeves wrapped around his waist, biceps flexing while all the playfulness drains from his eyes.

”I should go before Robin -“

”What? No, she’ll be fine, it’s like noon. I’m sure she’s not even awake yet.”

“Steve.”

”Honey.”

The two of you face off in a silent challenge, stares unwavering, mimicking each other with arms crossover over your chests.

“Don’t run again.” He pleads with a whisper that’s barely audible against the beating of your heart in your ears, the room feeling smaller.

“I’m not running, I’m walking.” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, the corners of your eyes stinging but you refuse to acknowledge why.

”I’m not letting you walk home.”

“It’s down the road-“

“I don’t care! You’re not walking. Let me close up and then I’ll at least drive you.”

You don’t argue with the hurt expression on his face, you can’t.

It’s somehow even hotter outside when the two of you sneak out the side door of the garage. A different kind of tension hangs thick in the air putting the humidity to shame, even with the sun shimmering from the highest point in the sky. His skin glows like liquid gold in its rays as he walks in front of you, your eyes following the movements of his freckled shoulders that flex with every swing on his arms. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hate the pit that settles deep in your gut because you don’t want to say goodbye just yet. Another consequence of a choice you made rearing its ugly head.

You aren’t expecting him to open the passenger door for you, the metal creaking loudly breaking a silence that’s filled with a thousand unspoken words just hanging on the tip of both of your tongues waiting to fill up the space. His gaze meets yours from under the thick length of his lashes, the corners of his lips twisting at the way you get bashful from the gesture.

”Thanks,” you whisper, catching a whiff of his cologne as you duck into the passenger seat that’s starting to feel like yours again.

He just hums in response, shutting it quickly and trapping you inside a metal box filled with every smell that reminds you of him. It pulls at your heart, and intensifies the burn between your thighs. Your fingers come up to twist the metal that still dangles from your neck, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to give it back after this. The already small space of the car shrinks even more when the driver side door opens and he slides in next to you with a huff, keys jingling loudly in his hand closing the door behind him.

His shoulders brush with yours shoving the keys in the ignition, the seat vibrating underneath you as the beemer quietly roars to life. He keeps his hand on the stick shift, sweat slick skin pressing into yours shifting the car into drive. The radio isn’t as loud as you thought it’d be considering the way he was blasting it in the shop. Meatloaf’s I’d Do Anything For Love spills out of the speakers and you try not to laugh at the irony, scrambling to think of what to say to him as Robin’s apartment complex quickly comes into view.

But he never stops.

“Steve, what are you doing?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest watching the baby blue paneling of her apartments whiz past.

“This is technically my lunch break, and I’m hungry.” He shrugs, glancing at you with something mischievous in his eyes that you want to smack away because it makes your heart skip a beat, “You’re telling me you’re not starving after that honey?”

Smacking your lips together, you roll your eyes as hard as you can, trying to hide the smile that pushes up your cheeks.

“Wow, your confidence always just astounds me.” Shaking your head, your sarcastic laugh only makes him grin.

”I think you like it.”

You can’t bring yourself to deny it, fluttering your lashes at him with an attitude instead.

”But if you really can’t stand the thought of spending like another hour with me, I’ll turn around right now, honey.” You know he means it, feeling his foot slowly press on the brake in anticipation for your answer, “Just say the words.”

‘Say it, say turn around Steve.’

“Take me somewhere with fries.”

When you left Robin’s house this morning, you didn’t think watching Steve juggle two shakes and a large order of fries to the booth you’re sitting at with a heart so full it threatens to crack your chest, was where you’d end up at. His cheeks flush a deep shade red almost losing his footing, lovesick eyes too busy staring at you to watch where his boots land.

God, this was not a part of the plan.

“I got you strawberry,” his grin is proud, remembering your favorite from high school when he drops your cool treat in front of you, and instead of sliding into the seats across the table, he plops down into the spot right next to you, knees bumping underneath the wood.

“What if I wanted chocolate?” You tease, body turning into a lit match pressing into his side.

“That’s what I got, and maybe, if you ask nicely,” he breathes, leaning in close enough for the tips of your noses to brush, “I’ll share.”

You wonder if he can hear the way you swallow at his tone over that oldies station that plays in the Hawkins Diner.

“No thanks, you can keep your cooties.” Sighing, you have to fight the twitch of your lips tearing your eyes away from him to focus on the fried potatoes in front of you.

”I think it’s a little late for that baby, I’m afraid you’re completely covered in them.” He doesn’t hesitate to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek that's loud enough to catch the attention of the girls that’d been staring at him since the two of you walked in.

”Steve!” You try to scold, but the smile that spreads across your face gives you up, even if you wipe the kiss away with the back of your hand.

”What?” He smirks, grabbing a few fries and plopping them in his mouth and you try not to focus on the way his tongue darks out to collect the salt left over on his lips.

“I can’t stand you.”

It’s impossible to keep a straight face around him, even avoiding the playful gold that swirls in his gaze that hasn’t stopped showering you with adoration.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep better at night.” He shrugs, taking a big swig of his shake, subtly scooting closer so your thighs touch.

The two of you eat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head swimming with questions as your morning starts to really sink in. But your nerves make it impossible to focus on just one, especially every time you fingers brush, catching his small smirk from the corner of your eyes.

”So tell me something,” you try, ignoring the slight shake in your voice, “How did Steve Harrington, ‘king of Hawkins’, become a mechanic? I always thought you’d be in some big office with a suit working for your dad.”

You notice the sour look that contorts the handsome features on his face at the former nickname again and you immediately feel bad for saying it. His thick eyebrows furrow, marrying in the middle as he tries to shake it off with a few harsh blinks grabbing another handful of fries.

”Umm, I did work for my dad’s firm for like six months actually.” He confesses, clearing his throat before tossing them into his mouth. “I think we hate each other even more now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude that's not why I asked -“

”Honey, you’re fine.” He smiles warmly, a big palm finding the top of our thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it occupy the space permanently.

”Turns out I’m a terrible office manager. I’d get super overwhelmed, which made me disorganized and we’d lose clients making my dad pissed, then one day I just kinda snapped after he laid into me in his office. Had a panic attack and then never showed my face there again.”

”Steve-“

“I knew he was going to fire me anyway, it’s fine” he laughs, running his free hand through his hair, the other sliding down your thigh so his thumb can rub circles into the soft skin next to your knee cap.

“So I wallowed in self pity for a month before Eddie started needing help at the shop. At first it just gave me something to do, he’d teach me a few things and turns out, I’m actually pretty good at it. It honestly feels really fucking freeing to stop being the person everyone expected me to be.”

He smiles with all his teeth, the kind of pride radiating off of him that makes the hard brick wall you’ve built around yourself start to soften, cracks forming in its foundation.

”Well, it looks good on you Harrington.” You have to look away when you say it, the butterflies becoming unbearable, because you weren’t supposed to feel like this. “I guess.”

He snorts at your stubbornness, bumping shoulders with you before snatching your strawberry shake earning the kind of glare that makes him realize he’s never going to get over you.

Steve’s one hour lunch turns into two, almost becoming three getting lost in the kind of conversation that barely scratches the surface of everything you’ve missed. It’s all hushed tones, sweet eyes, and linked fingers that threaten to make you fold again, with the only thing saving you is the reminder of the mess you made on top of his client's Corvette, and Steve reluctantly admitting he needed to leave so he didn’t actually lose his job in the morning.

It didn’t matter though, he got his date.

And when he pulls up to Robin’s he doesn’t hesitate to steal your breath away, grabbing you by the chin, giving you the kind of kiss over the center console that leaves you dizzy, just like in high school. He doesn’t ask for his chain back, and you don’t offer it, bounding up the stairs to the apartment with it shimmering against your chest.

🌻chapter five

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n #mechanic!steve #mechanic!eddie

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erwinsvow · 2 days

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you write rafe so good and like you get me like sometimes i’m reading and i’m like “how’d they know😦” so HEAR ME OUT lifeguard!reader (bc i’m a lifeguard at a few country clubs) and i think rafe would be drooling and kelce and top would make fun of him and they’d like break all the rules like back flipping off the diving board just to get readers attention

oh my god first of all i completely adore you!! im so glad yess we must be little brain twins <3 i would love to know which parts made you think that! but here is the best i could come up with for a lifeguard au which is soooo cute but imagine.. its a pogue reader...

rafe knows every pretty girl who frequents the country club, he's made a point of making sure he does. so a fresh face in the crowd stands out pretty easily, especially one like yours.

you're pretty without trying, hair tugged behind you in a ponytail and a simple red one piece, the bottoms covered with denim shorts. it's not the usual kind of outfit for the club, but maybe you're headed out by the pool or something.

he can only see you from the back, though when you turn around, he sees the white cross on the front of your swimsuit. then he sees the boy in matching red trunks next to you, the whistle around your necks and a little first-aid box in your hands. a hot life guard, it doesn't get much more stereotypical than that.

you look around the club, following the boy who can only be giving you a tour of the facilty, with curious eyes like you've never been here before. it's only then a comment from top snaps him into a frankly startling realization.

"can't believe they hire pogues for this shit. wouldn't be surprised if shit started going missing by the pool deck."

rafe thinks normally he'd throw another line in, laugh at what top's saying, but he can't find it in him today. so he keeps watching, the sweet way you smile at a little girl who stopped you to ask for a bandaid, the way you nod while taking in something else in your training.

"alright. you've been staring at that pogue girl for twenty minutes. what gives?" kelce asks finally, after rafe ignores what they've been saying to him for the third time.

"huh?" he snaps back, tearing eyes away from you to look at his idiot friends.

"don't tell me you got hots for the lifeguard. what're you, thirteen?" they laugh, but rafe doesn't.

"shut up." he stands, downing the rest of his drink. "m'goin' to the pool. you loser can come and shut up or stay here and yap."

when he finally gets out there, you've shed the shorts, looking over the kiddie section of the pool with a watchful eye, taking the responsibility of watching brats seriously. he doesn't hesitate, jumping into the deep end with a huge splash, one that gets your attention.

you walk over, making sure whoever that was didn't just fall in, when two boys yell over.

"hey! lifeguard! our friend needs help!" you turn to look back at the boy who's been training you, wondering if you should dive in or wait since you're still in training, when you hear them again.

"not him! you! in the red. hurry!" you don't hesitate, though you're confused, jumping straight in and swimming over to the boy. he doesn't look like he needs help, in fact, he looks like he's floating.

"um, excuse me-" that's all you get out when you get close to him, because he scoops you up like he's rescuing you, carrying you out of the pool like a bride. you kick your feet, yelling out. "hey! put me down! you're not even drowning!"

he sets you down, and you wipe your face, staring up at pretty blue eyes and an arrogant face, once you recognize, one that your best friends hate.

"oh. you. i should have known."

"me? yeah, heard about me, have you? only good things, i hope."

"yeah, no. what the fuck was all that? i thought you were drowning."

"yeah, i was. thanks for the help." confused, soaking wet, and not appreciating his two little sidekicks snickering behind you, you try to get away, when rafe follows.

"so, uh, how long you been working here?"

"it's my first day."

"yeah, i thought so. i never forget a pretty face, so-"

"are you serious?"

"dead serious. and yours is definitely pretty."

"rafe," you say, leaning in closer so he can hear you clearly. "stop hitting on me. i have to work. some of us actually have to work."

"know my name already, huh? what else have you heard-" you roll your eyes, he laughs.

"i heard you're a good swimmer," you say, taking another step closer.

"yeah. from who?"

"i don't know. i'm about to find out." with one hand, you push his chest, and he falls backwards into the pool, the water splashing around your feet. you laugh, watching him bob in the pool, his friends laughing too. "good talk. hope we never speak again."

rafe gets out of the pool, pushing his wet hair back. he calls out after you.

"yeah we'll see about that."

#oooo she a snippy girly #its bc she spends all her time with jayjjjjjj #if you wanted something more cutie i can make her the lifeguard in the kids section & rafe brings toddler wheeize #lmk bae #this is actually garbage lmfao itwas a fun exercise tho

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pumpkinbxtch · 1 day

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Hi!! Idk if this is against ur guidelines but would you be okay with doing hcs for aftercare w Jason Grace? I love your writing sm and I love my heroes of olympus boys 😔🙏❤️

ᬊ jason grace | aftercare headcanons

☆ radiostar is playin': my girl by the temptations...!

warnings: sexual references, aged up (as everything in my writings) a/n: Heyyy, YES. this kind of content is accepted in my rules, which you can read here — rules. thank you sm for your cutie words 🥹🫶🏻 and thanks for passing by my blog! — kisses from Jupiter 💙

Jason is one of the best at aftercare because he's an amazing lover and boyfriend, no more to argue about.

Whatever position you end up in, he carefully slides out of you, not wanting to hurt you.

He's probably feeling a bit too much, just like you, so the first thing he does is ask if you're okay, without hugging you yet to avoid overwhelming you.

It's only when he sees that you're fine that he cuddles with you for a few moments while your breaths regulate and your hearts stop threatening to burst out of your chests.

And as soon as he feels a bit better, he'll be checking on you. He'll run his fingers through the hair on your neck and give you sweet kisses. "Are you okay?" he asks in his husky voice while stroking your bare shoulder.

It's so cute because he treats you like a delicate piece of glass after nearly breaking you in two and just telling you the dirtiest things, but you live for those two sides of him because damn, he's hot, right?

Jason always thinks about the type of aftercare you'll need depending on how you're feeling afterward. Some days he knows you need some time alone after reaching your orgasm and coming back to yourself, while other times you need to cuddle with him until you both fall asleep.

Jason has many things planned; for example, he'll have supplies ready, so after kissing your cheek, he'll put on his boxers and go get water or snacks for you. He helps you sit up in bed and brushes your hair away from your face.

He loves seeing your sleepy face and the sleepiness in it, as well as how flushed is.

He can't help but give you delicate kisses, trying not to overstimulate you again.

He also shows his concern in words, asking or saying sweet things like "Is my girl tired?" "You're so cute" "Come on, honey, drink some water."

He'll also ask if he crossed any boundaries with you. "Was I too rough?" You just shake your head, and he smiles.

"Come on, let's clean you up," and he carries you to the bathroom when you're feeling better. Literally like a feather, no matter how heavy you think you are, he can carry you.

Some days you both shower together, and other times he waits outside the bathroom while you shower. Maybe he'll be changing the sheets and tidying up the bed so you can rest better afterward.

You have your clothes in his place for moments like this, but still, Jason always prefers to give you one of his sweaters; he loves seeing you in them.

That man will cook for you and bring it to bed.

Once you're both changed, clean, and you've eaten something, you can finally cuddle up and enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

Kisses and caresses.

Him humming while he strokes your hair.

You resting your head on his chest and him holding you tight.

Small "I love yous" whispered in your ear and hugs.

Until you both fall asleep.

This sometimes changes, but it's always Jason paying attention to your needs at that moment, because for him, you're his whole world.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#jason grace #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace x reader #jason grace headcanons #jason grace fluff #jason grace smut #jason grace fic #jason grace blurbs #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #pjo #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus

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aphroditelovesu · 1 day

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May I request a yandere alphabet with Daemon Targaryen?

❝ 🐉 — lady l: It was my first time writing a yandere alphabet so I hope it's ok. Forgive me for any mistakes and I hope you like it! ❤️

❝tw: yandere themes, obsessive and possessive behavior, kidnapping, mention of death, punishments and murder.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!daemon targaryen x gender neutral!reader.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Daemon shows his love and affection for his darling through gifts and touches. He's not exactly romantic but he has his moments.

He likes to present you with everything that he finds interesting and that may be of interest to you. It's the most common way for him to show his love, besides touches like a hug, kiss on the forehead or holding your hand.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Very messy. Daemon has no scruples when it comes to his darling. He will make a huge mess, bodies lying on the street, blood staining everything. Daemon will kill, disembowel, and torture anyone for you.

All for you. He will not feel any kind of remorse.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Daemon won't exactly be cruel to you because he cares and loves you in his own way. If he gets to the point where he needs to kidnap you, he will try to be as patient as possible.

But patience is not his strong point, so there may be times when he will be cruel. Yelling at you, squeezing your neck and demanding you stop acting like a spoiled child. It's moments like these that he shows his monstrous side.

He may mock you by imitating your voice as a form of mockery, degrading you further.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Daemon would never force himself on his darling, he would never do something like that. He's a monster, he knows that, but not that kind of monster. He can force you to stay close to him, hugging you and even kissing you hard, but it will never go beyond that.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Daemon doesn't like being vulnerable and hates appearing weak, so he won't show his heart to his darling much.

There are times when he will be softer and a little vulnerable, but nothing that makes him too uncomfortable, except when he is drunk or needy. In these moments, Daemon will grab you and tell you how much he loves you and how much you mean to him.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would find it amusing. Seeing you think you can against him is fun for Daemon. So sweet and so naive. As if you could win against a Targaryen.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Daemon considers it a game in which he knows he will win in the end. You are the prize he will win at any cost.

He will love watching you try to escape him. Seeing your efforts go in vain, the way you get frustrated when he takes you every time. Adorable.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The worst thing you could try to do is cheat on him. Daemon will not accept this at all and when he gets his hands on you, you will regret having crossed him.

He can and will physically hurt you. He won't go to the extreme of torturing you, but Daemon will leave marks on your body to remind you that you should never do something like that again. Dietary restrictions and even beatings are among the things he will do.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Daemon sees himself in a pleasant future with you. With him being King and you at his side, whether as his wife, lover or Hand. He can't see his future without you.

And if he can have children with you, he will.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Daemon feels very jealous. And he's not subtle about it at all. His gaze is hard and anyone can sense the imminent danger that comes with that feeling.

He takes out his jealousy in the worst way: on you or on others. Depending on the situation, Daemon will leave you full of possessive marks or scattered corpses behind.

He has no problem killing anyone who made him jealous. Was that guard very nice to you? He will die. Was that prostitute giving you looks? Her body was found in poor condition.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Daemon likes to take you flying with him in Caraxes, going to bars and parties by his side. Always keeping a close eye on you when you are in public, of course.

He's not afraid or embarrassed to show how he feels about you in public and will deal with anyone who says anything about it afterwards.

Daemon tries to be the most compassionate towards you, he doesn't want you to hate him, so he tries to be kind and caring towards you.

Love Letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Daemon is definitely not subtle about his intentions with you. He will send gifts, touch you in public and stay by your side. He has no problem showing how he feels about you.

He may try a more subtle approach at first but it won't last. He will make his intentions very clear. Daemon doesn't have the patience to woo you properly.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

No. Daemon has always been this way, reckless, violent and cruel and that has never changed. Everyone already knows the prince and Dameon has never tried to hide who he is.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Daemon can be very cruel with his punishments. He can restrict you from certain needs, such as your food to more superficial things. He has no problem taking it from you, after all, he was the one who gave you such privileges.

In more extreme cases, Daemon can physically harm you, even leaving scars on your body. It all depends on how naughty you were.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Daemon will not take away your rights unless he thinks you deserve it. If you are good and obedient, he won't need to do something like that.

But if you're not? Daemon will take everything he can from you. Your family, your friends, your basic rights, everything. Until the only thing you have left is him.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Daemon is not an example of patience but he tries for you. He tries his best to be patient with you because he knows it's necessary, that you're scared.

But Daemon can easily lose his temper if you do something he doesn't like or that bothers him. You will have to walk on eggshells around him.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you died, Daemon would enter a deep state of grief and sadness. He will become more bitter and cruel than ever, anyone could become the target of the pain he feels for losing you. The countless deaths he caused were a result of losing you. He would never be able to get over your death.

If you escaped or left? No, no. Daemon would burn the world down behind you. He would do anything to find you and he would find you. He has a dragon and he knows his brother would support him in this. It's only a matter of time before he has you in his arms again.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No. Daemon wouldn't feel guilty about taking you because you're his and there's nothing wrong with taking what's rightfully yours. And he would never let you go, beg and cry all you want, you will never get rid of him.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Daemon isn't sure what brought out this side of him, maybe he was always like this. But what may have been what brought out his obsessive side was the affection, the love you gave him. You saw him and he loved it.

He found himself wanting more and more of this attention, this love, and he wasn't willing to share it with anyone else.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Daemon feels bad seeing you cry because he hates seeing your beautiful face stained by tears, especially if he was the one who caused them. But he won't actually do anything to fix it. But he will comfort you, pull you into a hug and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

He hates it when you yell and if you yell at him, Daemon will put an end to it quickly. Pushing you against a wall and squeezing your throat usually does the trick.

If you try to isolate yourself, he won't let you. You won't stay away from him under any circumstances. You'll have to get used to his presence or things won't end so well for you.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Burn alive your enemies and/or people who have harmed you in some way as a form of retaliation. And feed them to his dragon.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Daemon has no apparent weaknesses and he won't even leave them exposed for you to use against him, he's not stupid. But if he trusts you enough, you can use that against him.

Once trust is established, Daemon will be more tolerant of you going out alone, or at the very least with just one guard and not an entire armada, and perhaps letting you wander around his house alone.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes. Daemon doesn't want to hurt you physically, but he will if he sees fit. He will have no problem inflicting pain on you, but don't worry, he will take care of you later.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Daemon would rather be adored than worship but he adores you in his own way. He worships your body, your mind and how sharp you are. These are qualities that he adores in you.

But you will be put on a pedestal once you accept your role in his life.

Oh, he would go to any lengths to win you. He would compete for your attention in jousts, battles, and any other way to get your attention without having to resort to kidnapping. Something he will do if he sees no other alternative.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It doesn't take long for him to snap.

Daemon is not patient and he wants you, so he will have you. He may try to win you the traditional way but since that doesn't give the results he wants, Daemon will bring you to him. He will take you.

Maybe a few weeks at most.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Yes, but not intentionally.

Daemon doesn't want you to be a puppet, a marionette that he will control. He wants to see a fire in your eyes, he likes it when you fight him and if he breaks you he won't have that anymore.

But he can do it accidentally. And Daemon will try everything to bring you back.

He doesn't like it when you're broken, it's not fun for him.

#yandere hotd #hotd #yandere house of the dragon #asoiaf #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #yandere alphabet #x reader #daemon targaryen x reader

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kika-writes · 19 hours

Text

two of them - l.n - part2

Warnings: Fluff!

Pairing: Lando Norris x verstappen!fem!reader

Summary: Lando and Y/N cross the no-no line. @firelily-mimi

part one

There was one thing about the Verstappen family - that wasn’t necessarily always a good thing - you guys loved to take risks. And when given the chance? You’d go straight for it. So of course, when Lando, your brother’s opponent, asked you to go out, you were definitely saying yes. Partly because he was hot as shit.

Landinho - come out that little room of urs x

y/n - I can’ttttt, Max is yapping again 😭😭

Landinho - u used the excuse?

y/n - yeah gp’s on board xxx

Landinho - good girl. gotta run, meet where I said x

‘Good girl’. He probably didn’t even mean it to be that important, but they sent your heart racing. As for Lando - he was just happy his risk had worked, and that you didn’t think he was pathetic. As soon as your clock hit half past, you excused yourself from Max, rushing back to your apartment and choosing an outfit. You had half an hour to be at place Lando had said to be, and you were ever so slightly late. You’d chosen a pretty, short white dress and matching heels, a bow in your hair to finish off the look.

You followed the directions as closely as you could - and found yourself standing outside a small shop. In the busy streets of Monaco, surrounding by people bustling around, celebrities everywhere, and no one was even looking at the shop. It was empty except from an old lady working at cashier, counting the money. Her eyes locked on yours as a smile jumped to her face. “Hello dear. Y/N, is it?” her voice was kind as you nodded and smiled.

“Young Norris was certainly right about your beauty,” she said, gesturing for you to follow her as you blushed. “Right this way, my darling,”. You stammered a thank you for the compliment as you walked in. “Toward the back here,” she pulled the blinds down, the sunset rays peeking through the banded blinds. You found yourself in the back room of the shop, your eyes immediately locking on Lando. He had his hood up, covering his hat, so you could see the front. He was wearing an off-white hoodie with matching joggers and white trainers, a grin on his face as he put his phone down.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he pulled his hood down. “Sorry about all this,” he gestured vaguely as you laughed, “the media and all,”. “It’s fine, Lando,” you smiled, leaning forwards and pressing your lips gently against his cheek, leaving a red flush at the shock on his face. “This is Annie,” he acknowledged the lady, “she owns this place and is a good friend of mine,”. You smiled at her as she laughed.

“She seems like a lovely girl, get her, Lando,” she winked at the driver as he blushed and groaned. Lando pulled out your chair, letting you sit down as you thanked him, placing your bag on the other chair as he sat opposite you. “D’you want anything specific, or…?” he trailed off,” handing you the menu. “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you smiled shyly. “There’s some good stuff on there, take a look,” he promoted you. “It’s fine, really, whatever you’re having’s fine,” you shrugged it off. “I hate spice, so,” he laughed, “if you like it, sorry,”. You shook it off - you were the same.

“Two sweet berry waffles for the lovebirds,” Annie said, coming in as you both attempted to correct it to ‘just friends’. “Don’t lie, you two,” she waved her hand impertinently, “he’s quite the looker, Y/N,”. You covered your face as Lando rolled his eyes. “I’ll leave you to it,” she chuckled as she laid the plates down. “You’ve got taste then?” you asked, gasping at the food in front of you. “‘s why I took you out instead of any other driver,” he smirked, making you flush.

“Hardly think you would’ve taken Alex or George out,” you scoffed, trying to play it off as you scooped the food into your mouth. “Wouldn’t be as romantic,” he hummed absent-mindedly, watching your reaction. “Wouldn’t be as good of a sight to look up,” you said smugly. “That’s very true,” he teased as you flicked his arm. “You tease,” you rolled your eyes. “Well, what can I say? If it wasn’t George or Alex, I wouldn’t do this…” he leaned forwards, pressing his lips against yours.

At first, you gasped, in shock of his sudden move, before bleeding into the kiss, pressing your tongue against his lips as his hand jumped to your cheek, pulling you in more as you hummed against his neediness. “Sorry, wanted to do that for a while,” he hummed, breaking apart, “you taste like waffle,”. You raised an eyebrow, “Wonder why?”.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #f1

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missvelvetsstuff · 3 days

Text

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

I try to keep my reader generic but as always she is female and taller than average.

I have to say I've been a bit overwhelmed at the response to this story, I hope I can live up to your expectations.

Chapter 2

Warnings: swearing, angst, a little dirty talk. Bucky's kind of an ass, Sharon is evil.

Cookie just stared at the pictures, heart racing, almost hyperventilating. She shook her head and looked at Nick Fury "This can't be right, can it? Sharon Carter can't be working against us, can she?"

Fury looked at her, concern evident on his face. "I'd like to think it's impossible but look at what happened with Hydra. We knew that Rumlow and the strike team were on our side and it turned out the entire operation had been rotten for decades."

Cookie tried to still her hands "B B But th this, this is different. Sh Sh Sha Sharon C C Carter. SHIELD founder P Peggy Carter's niece can't be the Power Broker." She felt her stomach drop and heart stop when it clicked "Oh god, no she can't but b b but Sam and" whispered "Bucky" the color left her face and she started pacing, bouncing until Nick snapped

"COOKIE!"

Y/N jumped and turned to face her boss "Yessir?"

Nick rubbed her arms "Calm down. You're no good to me like this. Barnes and Wilson are off site with Carter, right? Where are they, exactly?"

Cookie nodded "uh yeah they're um, wait let me see." She pulled her phone out "they should be, Latvia." She exhaled and it felt like she was deflating "Where my informant was killed last night."

Fury nodded "I doubt she wants to kill Wilson or Barnes so we just need to get this info to them. You'll probably have to wait until they come home."

Cookie shook her head "But what if she kidnaps them? What if they don't come back?"

Fury shook his head "We'll cross that bridge if we get to it. I need you to compile everything you have that's even vaguely related to the Power Broker and anything you can find about Carter's movements. Let's see if we can find more links between them." He looked at his watch

"I want you in my office for lunch and we'll go over everything you have." He looked her in the eyes "Alright, Cookie? I know you're concerned about your friends but we need to keep our minds clear and focused on the facts so that we can help keep them safe."

Cookie tried to blink the tears out of her eyes and nodded "Got it, boss." before hurrying to her office by way of the break room because coffee was a dire need at this point.

She made it to her office, closed the door so no one would disturb her, turned on her music and sat down to go through every bit of Intel she had that might offer any clues. There were stacks of correspondence and photos plus some undefined amount of info on a thumb drive that she needed to work through with the only other analysts she absolutely knew she could trust, Dylan and Iris. She had trained with them and came up through Quantico where Nick Fury personally headhunted them.

Cookie didn't want to take a chance by getting too many people involved in this, after the whole SHIELD/HYDRA debacle she kept a couple of people close and everyone else could wait outside her gates until they convinced her they were trustworthy. This was huge and had 2 Avengers directly in Sharon's line of fire so had to be handled carefully.

Cookie also knew that her frayed friendship with Bucky was going to make this even more complicated because Sharon could use that to discredit her so Bucky thinks Cookie is just trying to eliminate a romantic rival.

She shook her head, no time to get distracted by emotions, her friends were in danger and that had to remain her focus. By 1pm, Cookie had synced almost all of Sharon Carter's movements with the power broker. There was no doubt, it was definitely her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the world, Sam was fed up with his mission partners. Sharon rubbed him the wrong way and Bucky was too wrapped up in her to see anything but sex. Sam had a bad feeling about Sharon, she was constantly wandering off only to be found on her phone and the Power Broker seemed to get away right before they arrived, every single time.

He tried to talk to Bucky but he just laughed it off, explaining how impossible it was for a Carter to be the bad guy. "Sam you're being ridiculous and paranoid even for a spy. Sharon is just as frustrated with our lack of progress as we are. You know sometimes this is just a waiting game." He smirked at his friend "We could find you a nice girl to pass the time with."

Sam shook his head and scoffed "A nice girl? You mean like Cookie for instance, who wouldn't try to distract me with sex like yours is doing to you."

Bucky laughed "You jealous man? I'm just making up for lost time and Cookie didn't want me." His smile dropped as he thought of her.

Sam looked at Bucky with wide eyes "Cookie didn't want you? Now we both know that's not the truth, you just got scared of the idea of a real relationship and dropped her for your living cock sleeve. You're a dumbass, Barnes."

Sam's phone buzzed with a text and he smiled when he saw it was from Cookie. She always checked up to make sure they were eating and sleeping while in the field. He looked at his texts

*<3 BeSafe*CYA*

That caught his attention. CYA= Cover Your Ass. It was their code for trouble close by which meant she found something concerning but the problem was too close to say out loud.

Bucky tried to look over his shoulder "What's that? From Cookie? You fucking her?" His voice dropped and he looked angrily at the ground "I knew she would find someone better."

Sam looked at him with disgust "The fuck is wrong with you? The only reason she might find someone better is cuz you pushed her away when you should have held on tight because you're not gonna find another one like her."

He nodded towards the hall where Sharon had gone "That one is trouble. There's something not right about all this and the way she keeps dragging you off to the bedroom."

Bucky smirked "I can't help that she's insatiable. Don't want to disappoint."

Sharon was in the other room listening to their discussion, smiling at how easily Bucky stood up for her. It was simple enough to get his attention when she came back to work with SWORD and he did all the work pushing Cookie away with his guilt. She was confident that he would take her side if that analyst bitch got too close. Sam could be a problem but nothing she wasn't prepared to handle.

She used a burner phone to send a text to her associate, the Intel analyst in D.C. to let them know she would be returning stateside soon and everything was going according to plan.

In the morning Bucky woke up in bed with Sharon's head on his bare chest and groaned. The position he was in wasn't a concern but he didn't remember going to bed or the usual activities with Sharon that followed. He couldn't remember anything past his talk with Sam, about Cookie. He didn't remember eating but he must have since it had been almost lunch time when he spoke to Sam. If he hadn't eaten he would be famished by now.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus and see if he could find any memories but all he could add was Sharon coming into the room and pulling him into their bedroom.

He looked at his watch and counted hours, he had lost almost 18 hours and couldn't figure out what happened. This wasn't the first time he had lost time on this trip and he didn't like the feeling.

Sam was right, something was off.

Sharon started to stir against him "Hey baby, look who's up before me."

Bucky smiled "Mornin baby, you sleep ok? Did we have some fancy liquor last night? I can't remember a damn thing, not even fucking you for 2 hours and I'm sure I did that."

She whined "I'm that forgettable? I thought I made you feel good." and pouted, rubbing his growing cock to distract him.

He reached between her legs to find her ready "You're always so wet and ready for me sweetheart. Tell me what you need."

Sharon moaned "I need you to fuck me, Barnes. Hard and deep. Right now."

Bucky was only too happy to oblige, the lost time forgotten in their haze of lust.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In her office Cookie and her crew worked well past lunchtime until an intern showed up from Nick's office to remind them of the passage of time.

Cookie put all of the papers and photos into a box since they hadn't had time to digitize it all and write up a comprehensive report. She went over every single detail with Nick and Maria to determine what should go in her report and which points to highlight for field agents.

The rest of the day and into the evening Cookie's team had everything organized and the details and evidence all written up in a 5 page report with back up documentation available in her files. She looked up when her phone buzzed to see it was Sam responding to her earlier text

*👍🐴☔*

She smiled knowing that Sam got it and would watch out for Bucky even if he was a dumbass.

Looking at her watch she saw it was almost midnight and noticed Iris trying to read her text before she quickly put her phone away. Iris and Dylan were her most trusted analysts but even they didn't need to know about her chatting with Sam.

She dismissed them so she could have a bit to herself to reply to Sam and include some details that they didn't have the clearance for.

A few days later when Sam, Bucky and Sharon arrived back home, Cookie was there to meet Sam and barely even acknowledged Bucky or Sharon which made Bucky act out, snapping at Sharon. Sharon was annoyed that he still cared about fucking Cookie, after all the work she had done to get him under control he was still pining for that stupid analyst. She knew something would need to be done about her soon.

Sam and Cookie walked arm in arm to medical to have him checked out, then to the common room when she had left some chili simmering for him plus fresh French bread. They took their lunch and went to his room to eat.

Cookie sat across from Sam while he talked about the mission until the food was gone and he stopped, just staring at her.

Cookie stared back "What?"

He looked at her sideways "First, I love you Cookie but you look like Hell. You're worried about me in the field but you're here looking like you haven't slept or had a decent meal in weeks."

She flinched before whispering "Closer to months."

"No, Cookie. Don't destroy yourself over a man that's too stupid to see what's right in front of him. We need you here. Nick fucking Fury insists you're the best intelligence analyst he's ever met. Ever. From the man who doesn't offer praise lightly.

I need you. I can't trust anyone else to lay all the intel out just so it flows for me. Or make sure I'm taken care of when I come back from a mission?

And his dumb ass might not know it or be willing to admit it but Barnes needs you too. He's in love with you, he just thinks he's being good and noble by pushing you away. And if he doesn't figure it out, there's plenty of other men and women that would jump at the chance to be with you. So take care of yourself."

Sam sighed "Second, I know you didn't send the CYA code for shits and giggles so tell me. What do you know?"

Cookie shifted uncomfortably "I want you to know this has nothing to do with their relationship, I didn't look to discredit her or hurt him but you know I have to follow the evidence where it leads me, without prejudice. You know I-"

Sam stopped her "I know you are impartial and I trust you and your conclusions so just spit it out and we'll go from there. Ok?"

Cookie nodded and took a deep breath before blurting out "Sharoncarteristhepowerbroker" then covering her mouth and looked at Sam with wide eyes.

Sam stopped and stared "Please tell me you didn't just say what I think you said. Tell me that she's-. Fuck." He shook his head "I know you have proof. Cookie, you have to tell Barnes."

She blinked rapidly trying to clear the tears that suddenly welled up in her eyes "Nononono, no I can't tell him. He will think I'm some disgruntled woman trying to hurt my rival. You have to tell him Sam he will never listen to me. Hell he hasn't even spoken to me outside of work ever since...."

Her eyes filled up and she tried to hold the tears back but she had been keeping it all in for so long.

Sam pulled her into his chest and sighed "Alright. Give me what you have, I'll talk to him tomorrow. And what's with all the containers of Cookies?"

Cookie shrugged "I was worried about you. Couldn't sleep. I made some of your favorites, the red velvet. The frosted ones are *special* to help you sleep."

Sam hugged Cookie and kissed her cheek "Alright babygirl, lay it out for me..." They spent the next hour going over everything she had before her eyes started drooping. "Okay Miss Cookie, go get some sleep and I'll see you at the debrief tomorrow."

Cookie gathered her paperwork and left Sam's room only to see Bucky in the kitchen. She didn't want to ignore him so nodded and grunted as she passed without slowing down. Bucky just watched her leave, wondering what she was doing in Sam's room so late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After their run the next morning Sam and Bucky sat down for coffee. Sharon told Bucky she wanted to sleep in so Sam figured now was the time.

Bucky started in on him before he even spoke "What's up with you and Cookie? You are fucking her aren't you? I saw her leave your room early this morning. Don't fucking lie to me jerk."

Sam brushed him off, "None of your damn business."

He tried to change the subject and explain about Sharon but Bucky didn't respond well

"What the fuck do you mean Sam? Sharon is not the goddamn power broker, that's ridiculous, her aunt was a founder of SHIELD. Where did you get your Intel from?" Sam looked at him pointedly, like there was any other person who Sam trusts completely.

Bucky shook his head angrily and stood up to head to Cookies office. "I can't believe you fell for it Sam. She's just trying to get Sharon back because she is with me. I turned her down for a relationship so she wants to hurt me back. Sharon warned me that she would try to pull something like this."

Sam stood up and grabbed Bucky's arm "Are you kidding me? You think Cookie would put her career and reputation on the line for petty jealousies? That she would ruin Sharon's reputation for revenge, over you? I guess you don't really know her after all." He shook his head "I'm disappointed in you man. I thought better of you. Good luck confronting Cookie, she's not interested in your shit."

Cookie was at her desk making packets with the Intel on the power broker for the top brass when Maria stopped by.

"Hows everything, Cookie? Got that power broker packet for me?"

Cookie nodded "It's right here." and reached out with a folder.

Maria noticed her hands "Cookie? What happened to your nails? When was the last time you had a mani-pedi? Is your girl sick?" She looked over Cookies hands in concern, she never missed her nail appointment.

Cookie shrugged "I don't know, I forgot. It's no big deal."

Maria looked closer "You look like Hell. Finish the packets up and take the afternoon off, you need-"

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #no benefits

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ivantillz · 1 day

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can u write a fic of ivantill navigating their feelings after the kiss if they were both saved by the rebels

Till was annoyed. He was also feeling a lot of other things, undoubtedly, but annoyance was at the top of the list because why wouldn't they just let him see Ivan already?

"Can you please stop pacing?"

He paused mid-step and glanced over at Mizi.

"I just found out one of my friends who I honestly thought was dead has actually been alive this whole time and my other friend is currently being operated on after nearly giving his life to save me. Sorry if I'm a little antsy."

Mizi gave a small smile, undeterred by his bluntness as usual. Or what used to be usual. Till wasn't so sure what had or hadn't changed.

"He'll be okay, I promise." Even as she said it, her eyes were drawn to the closed door. They couldn't even hear anything through the thick metal. "You heard them; the wound was pretty minor. Just grazed his side."

Till pressed his lips into a thin line, hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Why did he do that?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper. Mizi stood up and crossed the hall, drawing him into a hug. He used to dream about this - having her undivided attention - but now it did little to ease the terrible pain in his chest.

Sniffing once, he hugged her tight. She didn't say anything, even as began to cry into her shoulder.

It was nearly two hours before the door opened and one of the healers - Mizi had introduced them but honestly Till couldn't remember her name; he had been kind of traumatized at the time, okay? - stepped out.

Till tried very hard not to focus on the blood staining the front of her shirt. "He's stable," she said.

"Okay, great." Till didn't even wait before trying to push past her; she didn't budge. "Come on! I just want to see him."

She smiled politely. "I didn't say you couldn't. Just try and be quiet, okay? He might be doze in and out, don't try to force him to stay awake."

Till pursed his lips. "I know," he grumbled. Mizi joined his side.

"Thank you," she said. With a shared nod, the healer left. Inside the room was the other healer; he quietly set a rag on Ivan's forehead before also leaving the room.

"He still has a slight fever," he explained. "If he asks, you can refresh the rag." He pointed to a bucket on the table with what Till could only hope was clean water.

Once he was gone, Till walked over to the bed and sat down. Mizi sat on the other side of the bed. Ivan hadn't stirred since they walked in.

He looked bad - terrible, even. His skin was even paler than usual, there was a bit of crusted blood still at the corner of his mouth, dark circles under his eyes.

But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

"I'll just stay until he wakes up," Mizi said quietly, staring at him. "I just want to make sure he's okay."

Till had almost forgotten he wasn't the only one who had been wounded by what happened. He suddenly felt a little guilty.

"You don't have to leave," he said instead.

She smiled over at him; there was something about the look in her eyes that made Till feel exposed. He didn't like the feeling. "I think you two need to talk."

He didn't argue, even if the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk about what had happened. Any of it.

Ivan woke up about ten minutes later; he was groggy, as expected, voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Here." Till moved without even thinking, grabbing a cup he had noticed on the table a little earlier.

Ivan was too weak to even hold it. Till adapted quickly; he held the cup to his lips and tilted it back a little. Once Ivan was done, he set it aside again.

"So," he licked his lips. "I guess this isn't heaven, huh?"

Mizi laughed softly. "Not even close. But you're safe here, at least."

He sighed, groaning a little as he tried to sit up. Till moved quickly, gently grabbing his arm to help him. He wasn't even sure if he should be moving yet but he wasn't about to fight him; that just seemed like asking for even more trouble.

"I really expected to die up there," he said once he was settled, the rag fallen at his side. Till grabbed it, plopping it in the bucket for now.

Mizi pressed her lips together. "I think I'm going to go see if they have anything that'll be easy enough on your stomach," she said, gently touching Ivan's shoulder as she stood.

"I'm not hungry," he replied automatically.

She clicked her tongue. "Too bad; you need to eat to recover."

Without waiting for a reply, she swept around the bed and paused just long enough to squeeze Till's shoulder once before leaving the room.

The silence was almost suffocating.

"You weren't really choking me," Till blurted.

Ivan side-eyed him. "Of course not," he said slowly. "Did you really think I would?"

Till opened his mouth, closed it. "I'm not really sure of anything anymore," he admitted quietly.

"It was just a ploy," Ivan continued, looking away. "I don't know. I just needed them to believe it."

It was silent again for a few beats. Till stared at his hands.

"You could've killed me," he said eventually. "I didn't care."

He chanced a look; Ivan was still staring ahead at nothing, his mouth a tight line. "I would've never let that happen," he said and for a moment Till wasn't sure what he meant until - "I would've done anything to ensure your safety."

And that was the crux of it, huh?

Till thought of Ivan's hands around his throat, surprisingly gentle. He thought about his mouth. His lips. He had kissed Till like he was searching for something. Like he needed something.

"You kissed me," he said. It felt weird, finally saying the words.

Ivan snorted, shaking his head minutely. "I did." He side-eyed Till again. "I know it was selfish of me. I know."

"But if you could do it over again, would you still kiss me?"

Till wasn't even sure what had motivated him to ask. Ivan smiled; it was almost sad. "Probably."

He nodded. He wasn't upset. He wasn't even sure if he had been upset, in the moment, not for longer than a second. Mostly he had been confused.

But now that he had time to think on it, he wasn't so confused anymore.

"I never knew," he mused quietly. "I mean." He looked up, suddenly a little angry. "You never told me. You should've told me."

All that time he had been chasing after Mizi and a part of him had always known it was never going to happen. She had loved - she still did - love Sua.

Time wasted. He had never even considered...

"There was no reason to burden you with my own feelings," Ivan said evenly. "I'm selfish, maybe, but I didn't want to make things even more complicated for you."

Till breathed out through his nose. "You really think you were doing that for my sake?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level. "You think you had the right to decide what was best for me?"

Ivan stared back at him, eyes as dark as ever. "I don't understand."

"You kept it from me," Till continued, pressing a hand to his chest, "because you were scared to say it. You were scared of how I would respond."

Ivan let out a humorless laugh. "We both know how you would've responded, Till." He sighed. "This is a pointless argument to have."

He still wasn't getting it. "No," he said, leaning closer. "We don't know how I would've responded because you never gave me the chance."

"Just like you gave the same chance to Mizi?" he shot back.

Till pressed his lips together. "That is not the same and you know it. Sua loved her back. It was different. I - " He paused, biting the inside of his cheek.

Suddenly the fight was drained out of him. Ivan eyed him warily.

"You what?" he asked, looking cautious and almost nervous. Till had never seen that expression on his face. He always looked so in control of everything. It was nice to be reminded he was really just human like the rest of them.

Till swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I think I could've liked you, Ivan. If only I had known."

Ivan stared at him like he wasn't really seeing him. "No," he said, too fast. He looked more scared, here, than he had up on that stage.

"Didn't factor that into your little plan, huh?" he asked; without asking, he pulled the rag out of the water and wrung it before leaning forward to gently scrub away the dried blood on his chin. "I don't think I ever really liked her, not in the way I thought I did."

Ivan was silent, his jaw clenched.

"I was just - I needed something. An escape. A dream. She was nice to me. Pretty..." Till sat back. "I think I just really wanted someone to care about me."

Ivan glanced at him briefly before looking away again.

"But this whole time I was blind to see I had that," Till felt his eyes burning. "Maybe you weren't as obvious about it, maybe you had your own way of showing it, but... that doesn't matter." He tossed the rag aside and reached for his hand; Ivan stiffened as he grabbed it but didn't pull away. "I would like to have a second chance."

Ivan stared at their hands. "You don't owe me this," he said, voice still carefully even.

"I'm not offering anything because I feel like endowed to you," he squeezed his hand, hard. "You know me well enough to know I wouldn't do that. Now stop fighting me on this and look at me."

Ivan lifted his head.

"Thank you, Ivan," he said, staring into his eyes - dark, yes, but warm, comforting and familiar - "for caring about me, even when I couldn't see it."

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. He squeezed his hand back. If Till didn't know better, he would even say he was blushing a little.

Maybe he would always have a bit of regret for not really seeing Ivan earlier. Maybe Ivan would apologize many more times for kissing him without permission. Maybe he would try to apologize for hurting Till, even if he didn't. Not really. All the pain he had felt - the real pain - was cured the moment he had known he would be okay. Maybe they would still struggle a lot, have bad and good days, but maybe that was okay.

#alnst #ivantill #alien stage #ivantill fic #alnst till #alnst ivan #alnst mizi #mywriting #hope u enjoy anon!#ivantill requests/prompts are open to all btw #they rly help motivate me soooo

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arlathvhenan · 2 days

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I think it’s weird that people try and point the finger at Solas for being racist and bigoted when I don’t think I could name a single character in DAI who isn’t?

Except maybe Cole and he’s the exception as he’s a spirit who’s newly crossed over and therefore can’t possibly have been shaped by the world’s prejudice.

But as for the rest, has no one listened to their dialogue? Even at their most well meaning, each character has had their actions and world view shaped by a certain form of prejudice. Casual racism is kind of everywhere in Dragon Age.

Just look at Dorian. He says some genuinely racist things to Solas over the course of their banter. And remember that Dorian is an incredibly privileged man who was born to and benefited from the culture that built itself on the ashes of another civilization and enslaved/abused/dismantled the personhood of the survivors for generations. Tevinter is actively a slave state, and at no point does Dorian really give the impression that he’s all too bothered by it. He outright denies the personhood of Spirits, an assessment we definitively know to be not just inaccurate but deeply immoral.

Then there’s Bull. His banter with Solas reveals so much about them both. In particular, it reveals that Bull looks down on pretty every other culture. He holds up the Qun, an ultra authoritarian nightmare state, as the pinnacle of civil order and admits that he thinks the world would be better if they simply conquered and subjugated everyone.

Even Cassandra, Blackwall, and Varric, as much as I love them all and consider them genuinely good people, have their prejudices.

As for Solas, I’m honestly not sure you can call him a racist? It’s just a gross misreading and oversimplification of his character. People point to his plans for the Veil as being genocidal. But they aren’t. Solas hasn’t set out to wipe all Non-Elves from the face of Thedas. He’s not trying to purge the world of all other races. He’s trying to fix a mistake that he made long ago, one which has left the world in a state he can only perceive as nightmarish and doomed.

I feel like people forget that Solas was only back in the world for about a year prior to Inquisition, and in that year he likely experienced nothing but violence and cruelty. The few redeeming things the world had left before he put up the Veil are all but gone. His people have been scattered, subjugated, and enslaved. They’ve had everything taken from them by this new world he helped create, and that clearly horrifies him.

Solas is absolutely misguided, and he’s absolutely stubborn. But racist? I don’t really think you can call him any more prejudiced than the rest of the characters, except in his case we’re talking about someone who is quite literally from another world. He is as alien to the world and its people as they are to him. And still he shows care and respect to others, despite how awful they’ve been to him.

He respects Cassandra and comes to enjoy her company despite how hostile she was towards him at first. He genuinely befriends Varric, reads his books, jokes with him. He never attempts to fight with Sera, despite her being an outright bully towards him. He shows compassion for Blackwall. He even comes to show respect for Bull and Dorian, despite their various ideological differences.

So, bigoted? No I wouldn’t say he is. Bigoted implies that Solas is incapable of tolerating a worldview outside his own, which is demonstrably not the case. Solas can and does accept the arguments and opinions of others. More than once he concedes to Varric. If you’ve played a Dalish Inquisitior who either befriends or romanced him, he changes his opinion about the Dalish, too.

The only subjects he won’t budge on are the ones that a person really shouldn’t?? He sure won’t entertain the idea of slavery being anything but a horrible atrocity, and that’s a bad thing? He’s a hardliner when it comes to Spirits being recognized as people, because they are and it’s the morally correct stance to have. Again, why is that a bad thing?

What is it with people taking characters who have been made victims by either society or circumstance and are vehemently anti-slavery and trying to cast them as monsters who go too far? I keep seeing it in different franchises cough gameofthrones and it’s starting to make me genuinely uncomfortable.

#solas dragon age #solas dread wolf #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age dreadwolf #reposting an old meta for organizational purposes

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veronicaphoenix · 2 days

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It’s okay if not because I don’t think you’ve written anything like it or similar before but for Into the Abyss of Bad Habits would you maybe consider writing reader who wants to try strapon sex with Noah because she sees how well he takes Oli and wants him to fall apart like that under her? 🫠 Especially since he’s a workaholic and a control freak, to see him just lose all sense of that. There is not a thought in his head. He melts actually melts into the mattress. I just know you would do it justice. Maybe Oli and reader are plotting together as a result of him disappearing into the studio for hours,days, at a time, kind of getting lost in it, ignoring them. Not everyone’s cup of tea though, I know. Feel free to ignore!

Title: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits — Requested scene

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Oliver Sykes x Reader | Words: 2k

Tags and trigger warnings: established polyamorous relationship, sexual content (basically what's written in the request, it's not too descriptive, though), use of handscuffs, three people in love exploring the joys of sex, oliver being sort of a sex instructor 🤭, and fluff ✨

I felt apprehensive at my own idea as I approached the studio on the ground floor of our house, my hand tightly gripping Oliver as he led the way.

My heart raced in my chest, skittish at Noah’s reaction to my proposal.

He had been consumed by work again in recent days, secluding himself in the studio for hours on end, skipping meals, and feeling perpetually behind schedule, despite evidence to the contrary and his bandmates reminding him that they were good on time for their next releases. Noah’s self-imposed stress often found a way to take control of him, keeping him distant from both Oliver and me.

Considering that we hadn’t had much quality time the three of us together since a week, I had had enough time to entertain myself with different scenarios that still hadn’t unfolded in the intimacy of our bedroom.

At first, when the idea crossed my mind, I felt somewhat embarrassed and quickly dismissed it. However, it persisted, stubbornly refusing to vacate my thoughts. I missed Noah, and I couldn’t shake the image of Noah unraveling every time Oliver took him, how effortlessly Oliver managed to get him to surrender to him. And in a sudden, unexpected moment, a twinge of jealousy took over me. I knew I could cause that effect on him, too, elicit the same response, to make him come undone when he was with me, whether inside me or in the grasp of my mouth. But now I yearned to get the same level of surrender that Oliver achieved.

I was so mortified at my own thoughts and needs that Oliver noticed my distress as soon as he entered the kitchen a few days ago and found me frantically preparing tea in the kitchen.

It took him less than five minutes to coax me into telling him what was going through my head, the scenario I’d been picturing the past few days. His reaction? He took my hand, picked the car keys, and drove us to the nearest sex shop, taking advantage of Noah being lost in his music world, which ensured us that he wouldn’t notice our absence.

Today, it had been three hours since Noah had disappeared into the studio immediately after breakfast, his absence stretching until late morning. It was Saturday, for God’s sake, and instead of going out for a run and spend some time with Oliver and me in the garden, or in bed, he had decided to remain sequestered in his space, oblivious to the world outside. He hadn’t even finished the bite of the avocado sandwich he’d been devouring for breakfast by the time he stood up, left the plate in the sink, and strode out of the kitchen, leaving me an Oliver gaping at his back as he disappeared down the corridor.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself before I knocked on the studio door three hours later.

“He’s going to like the idea, don’t get ahead of yourself,” Oliver tried to reassure me.

“Too late for that,” I replied.

Oliver squeezed my hand, a hint of laughter escaping him as he didn’t wait for Noah to open the door. With determined strides, Oliver barged into the room, removing Noah’s headphones from his ears.

Noah’s immediate protest was cut short by the seriousness in Oliver’s gaze, which conveyed a message of “enough is enough.” Then, with a subtle eyebrow gesture, Oliver directed Noah’s attention towards me, standing a few steps behind him. Noah noticed my tight grip on Oliver’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired, furrowing his brows.

“She wants to ask you something,” Oliver said.

“Propose, actually,” I corrected, my voice barely above a whisper.

“What is it?” He sat in his chair, relaxed yet attentive, hands hanging from the armrests and legs open and inviting. His attention was now fully on me, curiosity piqued.

I bit my lip.

“I want to fuck you the way Oliver does.”

After a brief moment of processing, Noah chuckled, his eyes flickering between me and Oliver.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve picked up a few things,” Oliver explained, “and we’re done waiting for you to come out of this mouse hole. So, get up from that chair, and let’s put some work into that rear, or it’s going to flatten out like a pancake.”

Noah’s expression shifted to one of disappointment and mild embarrassment. “Your jokes aren’t funny, dude,” he chided.

“Noah, please?” I interjected, extending my arm toward him, silently conveying what I wanted as I held his gaze. For a moment, he hesitated, but then he swiveled around in the chair, quickly saving his progress on Logic Pro before standing up. His fingers lightly brushed against my chin.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

I could barely contain my excitement, nearly letting out a squeal as we made our way out of the studio.

When we made it to the bedroom, Noah and Oliver took of their t-shirts. I wriggled to remove my jeans, keeping my t-shirt and tiny thong on. Oliver then retrieved the strap-on from the bag, and when Noah caught sight of it, his reaction surprised me.

Instead of shock or hesitation, he chuckled with amusement, pulling me close to him for a deep, passionate kiss. He pressed his body to mine as I stood on my tiptoes before letting a delicious friction ignite between us that got me wet and him, hard.

Unlacing his sweatpants, I pulled them down with his underwear. He climbed onto the bed without needing any direction from Oliver or me. Meanwhile, Oliver assisted me, pulling down my thong and securing the strap-on around my hips.

“How do you want me, baby?” Noah asked, eyes on me.

“Umm,” I glanced uncertainly at Oliver over my shoulder.

“Don’t be shy, come on. Tell him what you told me” he encouraged me.

“On your back?” I said, moving some hair behind my ear. “I want to see your face.”

“Missionary? Alright, missionary it is,” Noah agreed.

With a contented smile, he settled onto the bed, arranging himself among the pillow on our huge mattress. He relaxed, arms folded behind his head, dick hard. He watched me as Oliver inspected me, his hands still on my hips.

“I feel so weird…” I muttered, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Can you feel the weight?” Oliver asked. I nodded. “That’s how it feels to be a man.”

I rolled my eyes. With a playful slap to my ass, he directed me to get on the bed and position myself between Noah’s legs, which were now bent.

Noah clicked his tongue, gesturing toward my chest. “T-shirt and bra off, baby. If you’re going to be on top of me, I want those beautiful tits pressed against my chest.”

Oliver spared me the hassle by removing the last of my clothes. Moments later, he positioned himself at the foot of the bed, still standing, his bare chest pressed against my back as my hand found their place on Noah’s knees. Uncertainty gripped me as I pondered how to begin. It was pretty obvious, yes, but it was still something new to me. I hadn’t tried this with any of my past lovers.

“Don’t worry about anything. I’ll guide you through it,” Oliver whispered in my ear, his hands massaging my shoulders. As I glanced down at Noah’s growing erection and then at the smirk on his face, I felt a surge of nerves. I was damn nervous about this whole situation, and he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the prospect of what I was about to do.

Oliver excused himself briefly, returning with a bottle of lube in hand. He applied some to my hand, instructing me to spread it on Noah, emphasizing how good it would feel if I caressed Noah’s perineum in the process, a sensitive area Noah apparently enjoyed. Following Oliver’s guidance, Noah emitted a low moan, his gaze fixed on me intently as I adjusted to this new task.

“Good,” Oliver said. “Guide it with your hands and start pushing in. When you feel ready to continue with your hips, use your hands to stimulate his dick. Meanwhile, I’ll tie his hands to the headboard,” he concluded, already moving to carry out his part of the plan.

“You had this all planned, didn’t you?” Noah began to remark, but his words faltered when I pressed forward with my hips.

My fingers encircled Noah’s erection, applying gentle pressure as I began to move and pump him in a steady rhythm. Oliver secured Noah’s wrists to the headboard before leaning in to grab his jaw and press a hungry kiss to his lips.

“Such a control freak,” he reprimanded him between clenched teeth while still holding his jaw between his fingers. Noah’s eyes had darkened and his cheeks flushed by the time Oliver had returned to stand behind me.

“Does it feel good?” I asked Noah, curious and anxious.

“It’s—ugh. Kitt—ah! Fuck.” His wrists pulled at the bindings. I bit my lip, power running through my veins as I kept thrusting into him and watched him abide to me. “It feels amazing…”

I attempted to go faster, but Oliver stilled my hips, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

“You don’t have rush, love. Find your rhythm, go at your own pace. He’s enjoying it either way. Just look at his face. He’s already melting. You’ve got him right where you wanted him, don’t you?” Oliver’s words were soothing, grounding me in the moment.

“Yes,” I replied softly, barely whispering. I had already lost myself to the cadence of my hips against Noah and in the harmony of seeing him slowly surrender blissfully to me. Spread out on the bed, hands bound, lips parted, his moans filling the room, he looked utterly beautiful.

“Keep going,” Oliver encouraged, his hands squeezing my breasts, and his fingers beginning to tease my nipples. My breath hitched. “Just like that. Good girl. You’re going to make him come in no time.”

In those minutes, I felt once again mesmerized at the connection I had with both, how marvelously well we worked together, how good we were for each other. My inexplicable connection with both Noah and Oliver was a harmonious blend of desire and intimacy that never failed to envelop us in its warmth. I felt fucking blessed.

“I want Noah to touch me, too,” I suddenly expressed.

“Alright,” Oliver replied. He was clearly enjoying the moment, guiding us through it all, witnessing how Noah was about to fall apart with me positioned between his legs.

It hadn’t been more than ten minutes of Noah being bound to the bed when Oliver released him. Despite his struggle to contain the pleasure, Noah motioned for me to lean on him. Maneuvering our bodies was a bit challenging given how they were connected and our size difference, but Noah managed to grasp my face in his hands and kiss me deeply.

With one hand still nestled between us, fingers wrapped around his thickness, I continued to stroke him, feeling the tension building within the body underneath mine until finally, I had him falling apart, his release coating both our stomachs, my mouth swallowing the wail his orgasm elicited.

It was dirty, the way I lay on top of him after, but as soon as the euphoria of seeing Noah succumb to ecstasy, totally melting into the mattress because of me, began to settle down, I returned to my knees.

Oliver helped me remove the toy, and quick as a cat I crawled back to Noah’s side while Oliver fetched wipes to clean us both.

As we cuddled in bed, Noah’s hand caressing my hair and his lips leaving feather-light kisses on my nose and cheeks, his voice filled the room with messages of reassurance, praise, and gratitude. Oliver joined us on the other side of Noah, still wearing his jeans and his erection evident against the fabric. Nevertheless, he looked just as elated as we did.

“That was fucking beautiful,” he said.

#noah sebastian #oliver sykes #itaobh request #bad omens #bmth #bring me the horizon #noah sebastian x oliver sykes #noah sebastian x reader #oliver sykes x reader

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