Summary: Mitch Rapp is a highly trained CIA operative. And a huge pain in the organizations ass. As a member of the elite (and unknown) Orion Team, Mitch causes quite the headache for CIA Assistant Director, Irene Kennedy and his trainer Stan Hurley. The two have decided things must change, and Mitch must be calmed down. With the help of Reader, they hope they have things figured out.
IF YOU HAVENโT READ THIS YET THEN WHATโS YOUR EXCUSE ?????? Itโs that good. Iโve gone through it like 3 times already. Totally worth the read โจ๏ธ๐ค
hey! ik ive been ghost but! just a little update: I said โfuck it, weโre ballinโโ and Iโm going to rewrite The Bluff bc it CAN be better. I know it can. and right now its SO not. so. if it mysteriously disappearsโฆ its not so mysterious.
(this is a list of informative sources, materials, stores, charities, books, documentaries etc to better help Palestinians, learn about the Palestinian struggle, and educate yourselves on us as a people. This list will be added on to with more links as they are recommendedย to me.)
Introduction to Palestine:ย
Decolonize Palestine:
Palestine 101
Rainbow washingย
Frequently asked questionsย
Mythsย
Al-Nakba (documentary)
The Question of Palestine (book)
The Hundred Yearsโ War on Palestine: A History of Settler Colonialism and Resistance, 1917-2017 (book)
The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine (book)
IMEUย (Institute for Middle Eastย Understanding):
Quick Facts - The Palestinian Nakbaย
The Nakba and Palestinian Refugeesย
The Gaza Strip
The Nakba did not start or end in 1948ย (Article)ย
Nakba Day: What happened in Palestine in 1948? (article)
Donations and charities:ย
Al-Shabaka
Electronic Intifadaย
Adalah Justice Projectย
IMEU Fundraiserย
Medical Aid for Palestiniansย
Palestine Childrenโs Relief Fundย
Addameer
Muslim Aid
Palestine Red Crescent
Gaza Mutual Aid Patreon
Books:
A New Critical Approach to the History of Palestine
The Idea of Israel: A History of Power and Knowledge
Hidden Histories: Palestine and the Eastern Mediterranean
The Balfour Declaration: Empire, the Mandate and Resistance in Palestine
Queer Palestine and the Empire of Critique
From Haven to Conquest: Readings in Zionism and the Palestine Problem until 1948
Captive Revolution - Palestinian Womenโs Anti-Colonial Struggle within the Israeli Prison System
Palestine: A Four Thousand Year History
Except for Palestine: The Limits of Progressive Politics
Before Their Diaspora: A Photographic History of The Palestinians 1876-1948
The Battle for Justice in Palestine Paperback
Uncivil Rites: Palestine and the Limits of Academic Freedom
Palestine Rising: How I survived the 1948 Deir Yasin Massacre
The Transformation of Palestine: Essays on the Origin and Development of the Arab-Israeli Conflict
A Land Without a People: Israel, Transfer, and the Palestinians 1949-1996
The Iron Cage: The Story of the Palestinian Struggle for Statehood
A History of Modern Palestine: One Land, Two Peoples
Where Now for Palestine?: The Demise of the Two-State Solution
Terrorist Assemblages - Homonationalism in Queer Times
Militarization and Violence against Women in Conflict Zones in the Middle East
The one-state solution: A breakthrough for peace in the Israeli-Palestinian deadlock
The Persistence of the Palestinian Question: Essays on Zionism and the Palestinians
Fateful Triangle: The United States, Israel and the Palestinians
The False Prophets of Peace: Liberal Zionism and the Struggle for Palestine
Ten myths about Israel
Blaming the Victims: Spurious Scholarship and the Palestinian Question
Image and Reality of the Israel-Palestine Conflict, New and Revised Edition
Israel and its Palestinian Citizens - Ethnic Privileges in the Jewish State
Palestinians in Israel: Segregation, Discrimination and Democracy
Palestinian Culture:
Mountain against the Sea: Essays on Palestinian Society and Culture
Palestinian Costume
Traditional Palestinian Costume: Origins and Evolution
Tatreez & Tea: Embroidery and Storytelling in the Palestinian Diaspora
Embroidering Identities: A Century of Palestinian Clothing (Oriental Institute Museum Publications)
The Palestinian Table (Authentic Palestinan Recipes)
Falastin: A Cookbook
Palestine on a Plate: Memories from My Motherโs Kitchen
Palestinian Social Customs and Traditions
Palestinian Culture before the Nakba
Tatreez & Tea (Website)
The Traditional Clothing of Palestine
The Palestinian thobe: A creative expression of national identity
Embroidering Identities:A Century of Palestinian Clothing
Palestine Traditional Costumes
Palestine Familyย
Palestinian Costume
Encyclopedia of World Dress and Fashion, v5: Volume 5: Central and Southwest Asia
Tent Work in Palestine: A Record of Discovery and Adventure
Documentaries, Films, and Video Essays:
Jenin, Jenin
Born in Gaza
GAZAย
Wedding in Galileeย
Omar
5 Broken Cameras
OBAIDA
Indigeneity, Indigenous Liberation, and Settler Colonialism (not entirely about Palestine, but an important watch for indigenous struggles worldwide - including Palestine)
Edward Said - Reflections on Exile and Other Essays
Palestine Remix:ย
AL NAKBA
Gaza Lives On
Gaza we are coming
Lost cities of Palestineย
Stories from the Intifadaย
Last Shepards of the Valley
Organizations and Newsย
Boycott Divest and Sanction (BDS)
Defense for Children in Palestine
Palestine Legalย
United Nations relief and works for Palestinian refugees in the Middle East (UNRWA)
So you probably don't have any friends to take you trick-or-treating, and you're scared of bullies, so we were thinking that it would be okay if you come with us
summary; after a long couple of months and a particularly rough night, your ex boyfriend finds his way straight back to you.
warnings; no use of y/n, post s4, exes-to-lovers, description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, emotional sex, unprotected vaginal sex, a lil bit of cockwarming
word count; ~5k
a/n; i meant for this to be a quick little hurt/comfort thing but then my mind kind of ran wild and it turned into.. this. but i think i really like how it turned out sooo, y'know.. leave a comment/tag/reblog if you enjoy!
๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐+
You're not entirely certain who you were expecting to find on the other side of your door at two in the morning, and maybe you should've given the possibilities a bit more thought before unlocking the door and swinging it open wide, effectively exposing yourself to whatever may be waiting on the other side โ but you don't. And it's with a sleep-slowed brain, a baggy tshirt resting high on your naked thighs, and bare feet that drag lazy across cold floorboards, that you find yourself staring at your ex boyfriend.
Steve Harrington.
He's standing in front of you looking a little nervous, a little lost, and a whole lot like he's just come from some sort of brawl. The sudden brightness of the hallway lights outside of your apartment makes your eyes ache and you're squinting, one hand coming up to block a bit of the light just as your heart drops as you take him in.
His hair is a little longer than when you last saw him, impossible for him to keep from flopping down over his forehead while the ends curl at the nape of his neck, light shining down on the strands and streaking golden through the locks that you'd run your hands through once upon a time. But you're hardly able to process or file away those small changes when your gaze begins frantically to absorb the more important and wildly more alarming details in his appearance.
The light wash of his jeans is covered in splotches of denim slightly darker than the rest where something's been spilled down his leg, streaks of dirt rubbed into the knees like he'd fallen down, and blood โ there are crimson drops of it splattered along the fabric at his thigh, likely his, likely from the split lip he's sporting, or perhaps from his bruising nose.. When those red smears crusted beneath his nostrils had been fresh and wet and had clearly dripped down past his chin and onto the collar of his shirt, which also seems to be stained in an array of red-splotched fabric.
โFuck. Steve, what-โ Your voice shakes through the sleepy rasp in your throat, blood roaring in your ears at the familiarity of it all โ the scene in front of you sending that achingly familiar trickle of fear and worry and panic all racing down your spine.
โI- Hey, sweetheart.โ His own voice cracks a little like his throat's been scraped raw from shouting. He's got his hands tucked away in his back pockets like he might be able to make himself small enough that you won't start yelling, his eyes sad and a little pleading as he gives you a weak smile. He lets out a small hiss of a wince when the motion pulls at the slow drying scab on his lower lip.
โStevie..โ The nickname slips out before you can swallow it down.
You think that you might be in shock, if the adrenaline shooting through your veins is anything to go by. It's making it a little difficult to think clearly as you stumble through the doorway, hands coming into contact with his chest as you brace yourself. Your thumbs find those drops of blood that are still drying into the fabric of his shirt, shaking fingers dragging over the freckles on the side of his throat on their way to his jaw.
You have to fight the instinct to linger on those faded scars encircling his neck, have to fight to push back the memories of the night that things between you had finally fallen apart โ when all of Steve's half-truths and secrets and outright lies had finally pushed you to your breaking point. The night of the earthquakes. When he'd shown up on your doorstep in the early hours of the morning, just like this, looking like he'd been to hell and back, in search of comfort and someone to patch him up but apparently not looking to give out any explanations for the state he'd come to you in. Not for the marks on his neck, and certainly not for the horrifying chunks of flesh that had been torn from his stomach and sides.
The fear you'd felt that night coils in your gut again. It's the very same fear that you'd endured eight months before the end, when Steve had gone awol for forty-eight hours only to find you the evening of the mall fire. That time, his eyes had been nearly swollen shut, body littered in bruises in varying shades of black and purple. You'd sat with him in the bathtub with your limbs carefully wrapped around him for hours, until the water had gone ice cold, and even after that he'd been glued to your side until morning. You'd both burrowed beneath a pile of blankets despite the summer heat, legs tangled and sweaty bodies clinging to one another. Even though you couldn't begin to understand how the fire could have been the cause of his turmoil, of his injuries, you'd still held him tight, one hand tangled in his damp hair at all times while he'd clutched onto you like you were his lifeline. The hours it had taken for the tremble in his hands to fade had nearly broken your heart.
It's all a little too much, the position that you've suddenly been thrust back into.
โWh-? What the hell happened?โ You question hoarsely.
Why you bother to ask now, you're not entirely sure. You're certainly not expecting him to give you any answers, but as your thumb pushes gently into the swelling softness of his busted lip, the fingers of your opposite hand brushing the hair back from his blood-spattered forehead, Steve sighs.
โIt's not.. I was at the bar. Got into a fight.โ He admits with another wince as your thumb skates up the bridge of his nose.
โGot into a fight or started a fight?โ You ask quietly, eyes flicking slow between his; they're tired and bloodshot, his lashes clumped together like maybe he'd been crying, caramel swirling in the pretty brown depths that you'd been steadfastly avoiding thinking about these last few months.
A huff crackles as he tries to push a sigh from his blood-clogged nose, his hands finally leaving his pockets to hang awkwardly at his sides while he gives a small shrug, โ..โwas stupid.โ He says in lue of a direct answer.
โI'm sure it was,โ You grumble under your breath, swallowing your instincts and forcing yourself to take a small step back, your hands falling away so you can hug your arms across your own chest with a sigh, โWhat're you doing here, Steve?โ
โI didn't know where to.. I..โ The words don't seem to come and he falters, shrinking in on himself further, โI don't know.โ He admits after a moment.
Your eyes close as your emotions threaten to overwhelm you, โI can't-โ
โPlease,โ Steve nearly whispers the word and when you meet his eyes again, his gaze is a little watery, โI know you don't want to see me. I know you're still mad. And.. You have every right to be, okay? But-โ
โBut what?โ You plead weakly, fingers digging a little meanly into your own arms.
โI just..โ He struggles for a moment, hands raking through his hair and ruffling it into further disarray, โI just needed.. I..โ
The fissure in your heart cracks wide, the slow healing wound tearing open to expose this gaping thing that feels a little like it might be enough to shatter your soul. Even while the more sensible parts of your brain scream at you to shut the door in his face, you find yourself taking his hand in yours, swollen and blood crusted knuckles under your thumb as you pull him into the dark apartment and close the door behind you.
You push him to sit down on the couch, a wordless order for him to stay put implied in the sidelong glance that you shoot him before turning away to move down the hall and grab your first aid kit and a wet cloth from the bathroom. When you return, Steve hasn't moved an inch, just as miserable and small-looking as you'd left him a few moments before. He's got his fingers tucked into the crook of space behind his knees, the tall streetlight across the road allowing stripes of light to cut across his hunched form, late night shadows eating up everything else.
The coffee table is nudged closer to the sofa with your foot as you sit down in front of him, your bare knees brushing filthy denim when you scoot to the edge of the table and bring the cloth up to his blood-spattered cheek. You're gentle with it, wiping at same spots a few times with the lightest pressure you can manage as the mess proceeds to smear, red-tinged streaks of water against his skin lessening with each careful swipe. Once his face is clean, you move on to the knuckles of his right hand, pulling it from where he has it tucked beneath his thigh to softly wash away the crusted blood from his split and bruising skin.
You work silently for a few minutes. The soiled cloth is dropped against the coffee table with a wet slap and you immediately turn to find the alcohol and cotton balls in the messy basket you keep stored beneath your bathroom sink.
You've just begun to open the package of cotton when Steve says your name, nothing more than a hoarse whisper to break the heavy silence.
When you meet his eyes, the desperation you find there has you faltering for a moment. The warmth that seeps into your skin from each point of contact between you suddenly seems so much stronger. Heat and nerves creep up the back of your neck as you blink at him in question.
The backs of his damp knuckles drag up over your calf before pushing into the smooth skin on the outside of your thigh, his thumb pinching lightly at the doughy flesh there, โI.. Can you..โ His hand unfurls and he lets his palm settle against you, his fingertips high enough to slip beneath the hem of your oversized shirt and brush the crook where your thigh meets your hip, โI just.. want..โ
He seems incapable of finishing his thoughts, but he doesn't really need to because you know. With the way his free hand comes up to push a lock of hair behind your ear, thumb tracing the line of your jaw to your chin before catching against your lower lip in that all too familiar way, you know what it is that he's asking for.
โSteve..โ Your accompanying sigh comes out a little shaky as you exhale it over the pad of his finger, your lashes fluttering as something stirs in your gut in response to his soft touch, โI don't think that's a good-โ
โPlease.โ He whispers again โ and, how could you possibly deny him when he sounds so pitiful that it wrenches at your broken heart? While his brows are drawing together like he's already bracing himself for your rejection even as his eyes remain soft and pleading?
And when the hand on your thigh pushes up to slide over the bare skin at the base of your spine, when he applies the barest pressure to urge you toward him, when the fingers on your face slip behind your neck โ you're climbing into his lap with little encouragement. Your shins push into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs, hands finding the hem of his ruined shirt and guiding it up over his head in an easy movement that has his hair flopping down over his forehead again.
When your gaze drops, you allow yourself all of ten seconds to trail your fingers over the rough scars across his abdomen. The skin is a little puckered and pink, mottled in a way that it probably wouldn't be if he'd found himself at the hospital that night in late March instead of on your doorstep, but they've healed. It's a far cry from the jagged wounds that you'd tried to clean with blood-stained hands, through quiet sobs and glassy eyes. They'd been so deep, as if something had tried to carve out little bits and pieces of him over and over, like something had torn into him, like something had feasted on his flesh then and left behind nothing but the evidence of small, frighteningly sharp teeth.
Your choked questions ring in your ears even now, the way you'd begged for him to tell you what was going on, who kept hurting him like this โ but as easily as your own voice echos in your memories, so does Steve's. You can still hear his agonized groans and cries of pain as you'd tended to his injuries, can still remember the sound of his desperate pleas for you to drop it, to just accept that he couldn't explain-
And you'd asked him then, if it was that he couldn't or that he wouldn't. The resulting silence from him had been answer enough.
Now, Steve seems to know exactly where your mind has gone and he covers your hands with his own, pressing your palms flat against the lingering marks on his skin.
โThey're healed.โ You state quietly through the emotion clogging your throat. The obviousness of the statement rings stupidly in your ears but you're not sure what else to say in the heavy silence.
โYeah,โ Steve agrees, voice hoarse, โI had a pretty good nurse.. Cleaned me up real nice so that I didn't, I dunno, die from an infection or somethin'.โ
A laugh pushes up from your throat that borders on a sob, โShe sounds cool.โ You manage, your thumbnail scraping lightly into the healed patch of skin under your hand.
โOh, yeah, the coolest.โ Steve tells you with the barest hint of a smile pulling at the unbruised side of his mouth. โYou okay?โ He asks quietly after another moment of silence.
โYeah. Yeah, 'm fine.โ You tell him with a shake of your head.
โSweetheart..โ Steve starts slowly, โI want.. Shit, I- I want you so bad right now, but if you don't want this-โ When his hands move to the hem of your sleep shirt, his eyes meet yours in silent question, and your head is nodding a little wildly in approval before you can begin to think too hard about it.
His hands nearly burn with every brush against your bare skin as you strip one another down to nothing, his touch leaving behind invisible streaks of something heavy and terrifyingly melancholy, something that you're sure will linger painfully in your chest long after he's gone and left you with a broken heart and an ever growing list of unanswered questions.
โI still have to clean your cuts.โ You tell him quietly.
Steve's eyes only rake over your naked body for a moment before his gaze settles back on yours, โOkay.โ
You settle over his lap again and wet a cotton ball with alcohol, โIt's gonna hurt.โ You warn in a whisper.
โI know.โ Steve returns just as softly.
Bracing one hand on the side of his neck, you dab featherlight over his split lip. Steve's jaw clenches at the sting as it seeps into the cut and you murmur a soft apology while you continue to clean the area with careful fingers.
Steve's hands settle on your hips and his eyes flick between yours as he waits for you to meet his gaze. When you look up from his swollen lower lip, he gulps, adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
โIs this okay?โ He asks, fingers digging into your flesh a little as he pulls your hips until your groins align nicely.
โYeah.โ You murmur, dabbing at the cut on his lip again just so that you have an excuse to look away from his eyes.
Your heartbeat ricochets against your ribs sharply as Steve guides you to grind slow over his lap, the warmth of him wedged between your spread folds. The way he manhandles you isn't rushed, the movement not nearly as desperate as you'd been expecting from his plea for intimacy. It's slow and quiet and filled with a weight that you wouldn't quite be able to explain if you tried.
It doesn't take long for his cock fatten up and grow stiff underneath you, his length and the patch of hair surrounding it both streaked with slick where your wet cunt has been dragging back and forth. You're both breathing a little heavy as you finish cleaning the cuts on his lip and the bridge of his nose, your faces close though neither one of you make any move to close the distance.
Steve curls an arm around the back of your thigh as he reaches around to guide himself toward your entrance. A breathy sound falls from your lips when you roll your hips back and feel his tip catch, just barely pushing in. He's as thick and warm and perfect as he's always been, and that hunger to have all of him spreads down the back of your tongue like warm honey, but the moment you spread your thighs a little farther to take more, Steve is stopping you.
โWait, wait, wait. You.. Are you sure you're okay with this?โ He asks suddenly. His fingers are digging into your hips, holding you in place to keep you from sinking farther down onto him as he awaits your response.
โWh-?โ Your jaw trembles with something like petulance, a little desperate yourself now that you can feel the fat head of his cock inside you, stretching you wide despite barely breaching your entrance, โYou said that you-โ
โI do. Fuck, I do, I just want to make sure you're sure.โ He says it so soft, so earnest, and his concern has you feeling something resembling whiplash. The two of you haven't spoken in months, but he'd shown up at your front door in the middle of the night and practically begged for you; for your presence and your care and your body.
You want to feel angry with him. For looking out for your well-being now, for being Steve, for bringing up so many feelings that you'd tried so hard to bury, but he's looking up at you with imploring eyes โ a gaze that says if you climbed off of his lap now, he wouldn't be upset with you, if anything, he'd be upset with himself and..
It has you reeling a little bit, that blooming affection crawling like rapidly expanding ivy inside your chest.
You brush that stubborn chunk of hair back and off of his forehead again, your fingers combing through to the back of his head until they can toy with the bits curling at the nape of his neck. Your mouth finds its way to the space between his brows, a shaky exhale masked by the kiss you press to his skin before dropping your foreheads together.
โI am. I'm sure.โ You promise in a whisper.
When you sink down, both of you groan in synchrony, breathy and guttural. The stretch hurts more than you were expecting, but it's been months since you've done this, so you suppose that the sting from him filling you up is warranted. Your hips settle against his and his arms curl around your back to hold you in place, to hold you close. His chest is flush to yours, scattered hairs on his pecs pressed to your breasts, the tip of your nose still barely avoiding brushing against the bruised bridge of his own.
The sensation of being so full leaves you feeling a little overwhelmed, the intimacy of the moment suddenly too heavy. His breath mingling with your own and his soft hair tangled up around your fingers brings pinpricks of heat to your eyes that you stubbornly attempt to blink back.
โHey.. Hey, honey,โ Steve murmurs softly, one hand coming up to swipe a thumb along your watery lashline, โWhat's wrong? You okay? You hurting?โ
Another strangled sounding scoff of a laugh tumbles from your lips, a weak sniffle as your fingers find their way to those smooth, faded lines along the front of his throat again, โI should be asking you that. You're the one who's had the shit beaten out of him tonight.โ
โI'm fine. Two weeks n' I'll be good as new,โ Steve assures you with carefully crafted nonchalance, his tear-stained thumb dragging back and forth along the apple of your cheek, โNow what's goin' on in that beautiful head of yours, huh?โ
โI just..โ You huff out a sigh, rolling your hips experimentally to test the ache between your thighs, โI missed you. Fuck, I- I miss you so much, Steve.โ
A few tears do manage to break through then, something about the way the patchy light coming in through the windows casts a glow over his battered face, the browns in his eyes shining golden in the dark.
โMe too, I miss you too,โ He rasps desperately, โShit, honey. If you think I don't miss you every goddamn second- You're everything. You're my everything.โ
He's holding your face in both hands now, palms cradling your jaw so gently, arms trembling like he's trying to fight the urge to hold onto you tighter. His restraint and his words twist sharply in your gut, something akin to dread weaving its way inside of you.
โI'm scared,โ You admit, voice quiet and buried beneath tears, โI'm so scared-โ
โScared?โ Steve repeats, concern flashing in his eyes, โWhat're you afraid of?โ
โLosing you.โ You gasp.
โSweetheart-โ
Your chest is heaving a little with the labored breaths beginning to tumble past your lips, โI'm gonna lose you all over again, because I can't.. It- It is terrifying. To see you hurt and bleeding and not know why. To worry that the next time might be even worse than the last and have you keep skirting around the truth or outright lying-โ
โHey, hey. Honey, hey,โ Steve gives your cheeks a soft shake under his hands and your gaze falls back to his, โI'm sorry-โ
โJesus christ.โ You bemoan quietly as another tear falls, halfheartedly pushing at his arms to dislodge his hands.
โNo, no, I mean it,โ Steve pleads softly, โI'm so sorry I kept you in the dark, I just- Shit, it's so complicated, I-โ
โAsshole.โ The interruption comes out a grumble under your breath, and you're gearing up to climb off of his lap entirely when his weak chuckle meets your ears.
โI am,โ He nods, brushing your hair back from your tear streaked face, โI'm an asshole and I'm sorry. I- I'll tell you everything, alright? I will. I will.โ
โPromise?โ You hate yourself for how small you sound, how unsure and broken.
โI promise.โ
You crane your neck and tilt your head to brush your lips featherlight over his, carefully avoiding putting any pressure on the mess of purple and black and red along the bridge of his nose, your thumbs gravitating yet again to drag over those smooth, barely visible scars around his neck.
โDoes your mouth hurt too much, or can I-?โ You ask quietly, eyes flicking between his.
โ'course you can,โ His hand pushes into your hair behind your ear, cupping your head to guide you forward carefully, โC'mere.โ
Your mouths come together with all of the gentleness you can manage and you leave one soft peck, then two, then three. You begin to work your hips over his all the while, and neither of you can hold back a keening noise of pleasure at the slow drag of his cock inside your warm walls.
You ease back from his mouth to drag the pads of your index and middle finger lightly over the bruises coloring his skin.
โDid.. Did you really get into a bar fight?โ You can't help but ask, even as you're lifting up and dropping back down hard enough to have you both letting out a breathy whimper.
โYeah,โ Steve nods, his fingers trailing along your ribs and stomach like he's trying to re-familiarize himself with every inch of your skin, โ'm not lying to you anymore. I mean it.โ
You nod and his arms curl around your back to pull you impossibly closer. Trapped in his embrace, you can't do much more than grind on him with slow swivels of your hips, the head of his cock rubbing at that spot on your inner wall that has your brows pulling together in pleasure.
He's so close like this. His chest hair drags against your bare breasts and your tummies are pressed together and the sweat on his forehead mingles with your own. You feel warm โ in the physical sense, yes, but also in your stomach, in your bones, in your heart.
โI love you.โ Steve says with emotion, like he's feels that warmth too.
Your eyes prickle a little traitorously, fingers toying with the soft ends of his hair, โI love you,โ You manage in a choked gasp, โI love you.โ
โHo- Shit..โ Steve groans, chin tipping up toward the ceiling for a moment as he throws his head back, โYou feel so fuckin' good, honey.โ
โY'r cock feels good,โ You pant in response, โSo good. So big. I- Fuck.โ
โSo tight,โ He mutters, sitting up a little straighter to meet every roll of your hips, โSo perfect. 's like you were fucking made for me, you know that? Take me so well. You were made for this, for me-โ
The way that your clit is rubbing against the thatch of hair on his pelvis has you a little dumb already, and his lust-fueled rambling only intensifies your budding orgasm, both of your thighs slick with how fucking good it feels to have him inside of you again. You nod in agreement to his words and manage to give a small whimper, but it seems that he's not done yet.
โ-Missed this so much. Missed you, missed this.. Fuck. Honey, I love you. I love you. I-โ
โSteve,โ You whine, โLove you too.โ
His tanned cheeks have gone a little pink beneath the dusting of bruises on his face, breathy groans fanning out past his busted lip. The pretty little noises of pleasure that he can't seem to hold back have you reeling, your gut twisting with heat at the sight of him, the sound of him.
โSo goddamn wet for me, honey,โ Steve grumbles, his voice catching in a way that has your cunt clenching down on him, โListen to her. You hear that?โ
You do. There's a lewd squelch emitting from the place where you're joined, the sound filling the otherwise quiet apartment every time that your hips roll at just the right angle. It happens again just then, his cock stretching your hole wide enough for the drag of slick and air to create a mildly embarrassing noise that has Steve giving another needy groan, his hips bucking up into yours.
โGod, fuck, please tell me you're getting close,โ He nearly whimpers, lifting up off of the couch to drive up into you again, โPlease, I'm getting so close, babe. Need you to come.โ
Euphoria licks up your spine in a white-hot flame, your weight bearing down that much harder to apply more pressure on your puffy clit. Sweat trickles down your spine, disappearing beneath Steve's forearms where they're looped tight around you.
โMhm,โ You hum, the sound catching in the back of your throat, โM'gonna come, Stevie. Y'r gonna make me come.โ
Your hips roll a little faster and Steve continues to buck up into you, his cock pressing so, so nicely against the spot that has your brain whiting out a bit at the edges.
โCome on, sweet girl. Come for me,โ Steve moans, warm breath fanning out over your lips, โPlease, honey. Please come on my cock. Shit, I need it. Need you t' come, please.โ
โI am, I am, I am,โ You babble desperately, โM'gonna, fuck, fuck, 'm-โ
The knot of pleasure in your gut twists sharply and you cry out, face burying in his neck with a whiny gasp as your orgasm crashes over you. Your cunt tightens and trembles around him and a deliciously choked sounding moan tears past Steve's lips as he finally lets his own release wash over him.
The warmth of his come coating your insides has you fluttering around him further, your hands grappling restlessly for any part of him to hold on to, his hair, the back of his neck, his shoulders, his biceps. Breathy little whines and gasps and groans tumble from both of you as you ride it out, the trembling tenseness in your muscles releasing all at once as you go limp in his arms.
It takes a minute, but you eventually come back to yourself a little, peppering a delicate kiss to that infuriating strip of scar tissue along his throat before you're pushing up with weak limbs to look at the man underneath you.
โHey.โ It comes out in a murmur, a breathless little thing that leaves you feeling kind of silly, but your brain hasn't yet recovered enough to work at its full-capacity.
Steve only grins, his lips curling to reveal perfect teeth, a pretty smile pulling at his busted and bruising lips. His eyes twinkle in the patchy darkness of your living room, a pretty mosaic of brown and gold and speckles of green catching in the light and forcing your heart rate to tick up in adoration.
โHey, honey.โ He returns sweetly, one arm uplooping from around your spine so he can reach up to push the sweaty flyaways back from your face.
You can't help but shift over him, sore legs flexing where they're spread over his hairy thighs, a trickle of warmth leaking out from where you're still joined and dripping down into the thick hair at the base of his cock. It feels dirty and intimate in the best way โ his come mingled with your own, your fingers in his sweat-dampened hair, his wide palms rubbing softly from your hips to your spine and then back again.
โI kinda want to stay like this forever.โ
Your whispered admission has his eyes crinkling softly and he drops his forehead to your chest, his breath fanning out over your breasts as he lets out a breathy chuckle.
โYou won't hear any complaints from me.โ Steve mumbles into your skin.
You never want to leave this moment. Your nose pushes into his hair and you pull in the familiar melding of scents, of expensive shampoo and hairspray and an underlying smell that's just Steve. You want to stay right here, in this perfectly imperfect bubble, but you feel Steve wince when he burrows his face into your chest just a little too hard and the serenity cracks.
โSteve?โ You murmur softly, fingertips scraping gently against his scalp despite the nerves in your stomach.
โYeah, sweetheart?โ
You steel yourself with a deep breath, โYou know I'd do anything to protect you, right? You.. You know that I'll do anything for you.. Know that.. That you can trust me?โ It comes out in a rush, and your nerves increase tenfold when Steve pulls back to look at you, โ..Right?โ
โHoney,โ The endearment comes out laced with something sweet and sticky that makes it sound an awful lot like an apology, โOf course I do.โ
His eyes are so soft as they flick between your own, his hands smoothing up the length of your spine in a soothing drag of skin on skin. One hand leaves his hair only so that you can trace your thumb over those two wide freckles on the apple of his cheek, a self-deprecating sort of smile pulling at your lips.
โAnd.. And you're gonna tell me what's been going on with you?โ You nearly whisper.
His mouth finds yours to press a featherlight kiss to your lips, โYeah, honey. No more secrets. No more lies.โ
โPromise?โ You ask again, lips pulling into a smile where they're still brushing his own. Your faces are so close it's hard to focus on the way his eyes shine with adoration when he looks up at you, the bruises on the bridge of his nose blurring in the darkness.
oh. I didnโt realize that today I would find this blog (thank fuck) and would immediately spend the afternoon drowning myself in your fics. I am โจferalโจ. This is the most unkind thing I have ever done to myself. if youโre a masochist too, go do yourselves a Goddamn favor and scroll through some of this dear writers fics. Nothing I have ever attempted holds a candle to this.
Hi, Iโm in hate with you. Thank you for this.
Now to address this fic specifically: I knew I was a whore for Steve Harrington. I just didnโt know I was ๐ฅบ for him too. No one speak to me. Are you kidding?! Donโt ever say โyou know Iโll do anything for youโ ever again Steven. Iโm gonna lose it oh my God.
โStop squirming around, would you?โ Stiles huffs in frustration from behind you.
He's been like this for an hour, sitting between your spread legs, long fingers groping and rubbing and kneading at the doughy flesh of your backside. It had started out innocent enough, his restless hands gravitating to your ass while you'd been sprawled on your belly getting some reading done for one of your courses, but he'd gotten increasingly more distracting as time went on.
His hands had eventually slipped beneath the revealing cut of your sleep shorts to touch bare skin, calloused fingers dragging over soft flesh and the thin cotton of your underwear. Rather than simply sitting cross-cross between your thighs, he's upgraded to laying on his stomach, one arm curled beneath your leg so he can prop his chin on one of your thighs while his fingers continue to squeeze and massage.
He was right, you had begun to squirm. It was getting incredibly difficult to ignore the heat that his attention was causing to pool between your thighs.
โSince when are you an ass man, anyway?โ You question as you finally give up on reading all together, trying and failing to peek over your shoulder to get a good look at him, โYou've always been more of a boob guy.โ
โI resent that,โ Stiles is quick to defend, the pad of his thumb tracing the crease where your ass meets your thigh, โI like your ass just as much as I love your tits.โ
You can't quite hold back a scoff at the blatant dishonesty and he's quick to correct himself.
โ-alright, maybe I favor your tits a little, but- Oh my god, will you sit still?โ Stiles snaps in mild irritation when your thighs try to clench instinctively but are unable to do so given the person currently wedged between them.
โWhat are you even doing back there?โ You ask, voice thankfully only sounding a little affected, โYou know, aside from admiring my ass and groping me.โ
Your hips shift a little against the mattress and you know just by the brief moment of silence before his response comes that Stiles has noticed.
โWhy?โ He seemingly perks up in interest, voice pitching in a self-satisfied little drawl. His thumb dips between your thighs while he tightens his palm around you again and the digit comes achingly close to brushing against the wet patch you know has formed in the crotch of your panties, โ's'it workin' you up?โโ He questions eagerly.
โYes.โ You huff and squirm again, but there's a sharp sting on the meat of your ass, a hard pinch that makes you yelp in surprise and pain, โDid- Did you just bite me?โ You ask in breathless incredulity.
Another painful pinch to your skin is the only response you receive. Stiles gives the flesh a hard suck before releasing it from his mouth and this time you're pushing up with one hand when you look over your shoulder, eyes roaming over his mischievous little grin, his full pink lips, the way that his fingers have tugged the fabric of your shorts up over the curve of your asscheek to display the evidence left behind.
โJesus christ. Stiles! Look at what you did, what the hell-โ
He looks annoyingly smug as his thumb drags over the place where his teeth have carved little indents into your skin, one of them already threatening to darken into a bruise where he'd sucked a hickey into the flesh.
โI dunno, I think it looks pretty fuckin' good.โ He grins, exuding cool nonchalance right up until you catch the way that his hips roll down against the mattress to provide a little relief to his stiff cock.
โIf you wanted to work me up, you could've just left a few marks on my thighs and gone down on me,โ You flip your textbook closed with a huff, โY'know, if you wanna get a little territorial or whatever. 's fine, it's hot, but there are much better ways to mark me up-โ
His hand comes down on your ass in a light slap and you give him a half-hearted grumble about that not being what you meant, but he's already putting more pressure on his hand as he pushes up, and then his weight is gone completely.
โSorry, sorry, I didnโt actually mean that one-โ He apologizes as he tumbles from the bed in a mess of long limbs.
โWhat-โ You start to roll onto your side to watch him, but the shout he sends over his shoulder as he digs through a drawer at his desk has you freezing.
โDon't move! Alright? I mean it!โ
You settle back onto your stomach dutifully, propped up on your elbows as your gaze leaves his frantic search to re-open your textbook with a sigh, โWhat are you doing now? What're you even looking for?โ
โYou'll see. Now, quiet.โ
His admonishment meets your ears sounding oddly garbled, like he's trying to speak around something in his mouth, and you make to turn toward him in curiosity, but he's already climbing back in between your thighs and giving your right asscheek a light slap in reprimand for moving. He tugs your shorts and underwear down your legs in one go and you can't help but crane your neck now, but the moment your torso twists to get a better look, he firmly pushes your hips back down onto the mattress, a wide palm spreading out over your skin to hold you in place.
Your heart pounds in excited anticipation at the feeling of your lower half being exposed while he's still fully clothed. Again, you try to clench your thighs together for just the little bit of friction the action normally provides, but there's not much relief with the way Stiles has you spread around him.
Something soft and cool meets your recently exposed skin, the texture difficult to place as it drags smoothly across the roundness of your backside.
โWhat's that?โ You question, fighting the urge to wriggle in response to the peculiar feeling.
โMarker.โ Stiles says easily, his voice taking on that edge it gets when he's focusing hard on something.
A soft snort of amusement leaves you as your palms fall to brace on the glossy pages of your textbook, โYou're drawing on my ass?โ
โNot.. Exactly..โ He mumbles distractedly.
Another huff falls from your lips as the cap of the marker gives the telltale little click that indicates he's finished with his mysterious artwork, โSti, seriously-โ
A quiet groan cuts you off, the sound of it familiar and wholly erotic as it rumbles up his throat.
โChrist.. Fuckin' look at you..โ Stiles groans, the pads of his fingers tracing over the ink on your skin.
You nearly shiver, goosebumps threatening to pebble along your skin in response to the gentle brush of his fingers across your ass. You make to ask him a question โ to please just touch you where you want him, to tell you what he's drawn on your skin, to let you turn around so you can climb into his lap and devour him โ but he's speaking again before you can form more than the garbled beginning of an โum-โ.
โGod, it is insane how hot that is,โ Stiles grumbles as he dips down and his mouth finds the meat of your asscheek again, biting down softly this time and giving a small suck to the skin that has you nearly writhing, your fingernails scraping across the glossy pages of your textbook. His lips release you with a pop and his thumbs find the crease of your backside, spreading you and giving another little groan at the sight of your cunt shining with arousal. โShit, I really was working you up, huh, baby? So fuckin' wet right now.โ
โYou've been groping me for the past thirty minutes,โ Your assessment comes out a little breathless, an embarrassingly weak sounding thing, โWhat were you expec- ohh.. Ho-oh my-โ
You're interrupted when he sinks a finger inside of you without preamble, pumping only twice before another joins the first and stretches you a little harder. It's an all-too easy glide, two of his long fingers pumping within your walls in smooth strokes with the aid of just how wet you truly are.
โWell shit, I'm sorry, babe,โ Stiles says, genuine apology in his words that are dripping in an aroused sort of surprise, โDidn't mean to leave you hanging, and on our anniversary no less. If I'd known you were wound this tight I would've fucked you twenty minutes ago.โ
The innocence in how he says it contrasts sharply with the actual filth spilling from his mouth and it has you reeling a bit, your ass pitching up and spine arching just a little to better the angle of his hand. You're so focused on the drag of his knuckles against your sensitive walls that you almost miss what he'd said beforehand.
โWh-ah.. Wha'd you say?โ You gasp, โOur annivers-uh!- 'versary?โ
There's a sharp smack as he slaps the unmarked cheek of your rear, his lips pressing a quick kiss to soothe the warmed flesh before speaking, โCannot believe you don't know that today marks six months since we started doing this-โ
This, of course referring to the addictive situationship you've both found yourself in behind closed doors, in secret from the pack consisting of your friends and family, behind your brother's back.
โ-You're gonna hurt my feelings, sweetheart, honestly.โ
โDidn't.. Didn't realize.โ You pant, a keening exclamation of โoh my godโ slipping past your lips when you feel Stiles push a third finger into your entrance, the stretch sending your eyes rolling back and your mouth dropping open with a keening whine.
โAnd to think,โ Stiles starts slowly, his voice rumbling with clear arousal in his throat. There's a lewd squelch as his fingers drive in and out of your soaking cunt, a breathy moan punched out of your lungs when his fingers curl to reach that spot that makes your brain turn to mush. โTo think I was gonna be so good t'you later. Was gonna let my girl ride my face for as long as she wanted, longer than she wanted probably, if we're bein' realistic-โ
โFuck..โ His words have you moaning high and wrecked and unashamed. Stiles twists his fingers as he pulls them out and then thrusts back in, wide knuckles pulling a keening whine from you. โPlease, fuck, Sti-โ
โWhat's wrong baby? My fingers aren't good enough for you?โ His voice is dripping with that teasing lilt that makes you weak in the knees. Right now, it makes you lift your hips from the mattress just a little bit more.
โSo unfair-โ You gasp.
โUnfair?โ Stiles repeats in a slow drawl, โBaby, no offense but I'm the one with a rockin' a painfully neglected hard on right now,โ His fingers push in to the third knuckle, his hand driving in so deep that it has a pleasurable ache building between your thighs. โMeanwhile, you've got three fingers stretching you out. Seems like you got it pretty good, to me. What more could you want, huh?โ
His fingers are heaven, and he knows exactly how to use them, knows exactly where to aim and how hard and fast you like it, but you still need more. He's not touching you enough. His fingers in your cunt and his weight between your thighs isn't nearly enough to satisfy the need building up and twisting tight in your belly. You want his weight to crush you into the mattress, need his cock to give you that extra stretch that his fingers can't, need his sweat on your skin and his hands on your breasts-
โPlease,โ You whimper again, โBabe, please, c'mon, need you inside me.โ
You probably should've been expecting the easy snark that spills from his mouth in response.
โI am inside you.โ He replies all too smartly, repeatedly rubbing that tender spot on your inner wall until tears actually prickle at your eyes, a sharp sort of pleasure burning in your gut.
โStiles.โ You demand desperately.
Your pleading seems to finally break his resolve and his mouth finds the heated skin on the back of your thigh. He places a small kiss to the curve of your ass, then the dimples at the base of your spine. His lips make a slow trail up, small kisses left behind on his journey to the curve of your neck. Stiles pulls your hair to the side and leans in to taste your exposed skin, his fingers finally slipping from your cunt so that he can pull you up onto your knees, your back falling against his chest as you both sit up.
โWha'd'you need, babe, huh?โ Stiles murmurs the question over the shell of your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine as it fans out over your overheated skin, โYou know I'll give you whatever you want.โ
He holds you to his chest with one arm locked around your waist. His right hand leaves a scorching trail across your tummy on its way to your cunt, fingers dipping between your dripping folds and collecting a bit of your arousal before moving back up to circle your sensitive clit. The glide of his fingers is slick and intoxicating, a breathy gasp leaving your lips as your head falls back onto his shoulder.
โThis all you wanted?โ Stiles asks, voice a whisper against your skin, โJust wanted me to play with your clit? Is that all?โ
You shake your head, brows furrowing and hips bucking into his touch.
โNo?โ He questions, lips finding the spot just behind your ear, โWhat'd'you need then, babe? You gotta tell me.โ
One of your hands reaches back to grab the back of his thigh, fingers coming into contact with the soft material of his lounge pants as you tug his hips to yours. You can feel the length of his erection pressing into you through the thin layers of his clothing, his cock warm and stiff where it presses into the curve of your ass.
โNeed.. Need you t'fuck me,โ You pant, his fingers already so close to pulling an orgasm from you as he continues to play with your clit, โGod, please, Stiles. I want you inside, please, please-โ
โHow 'bout you come for me and then I'll let you have it, huh?โ He murmurs against your skin, his hips bucking forward into yours in a teasing thrust as the euphoric heat beneath your skin spreads further. โYou're close, aren't you?โ
A pathetic whimpered excuse of a โyesโ slips past your parted lips, your free hand reaching back as well to grab ahold of the back of his neck. Your grip is tight as your climax begins to crest, fingernails digging into the top of his spine as a wanton moan is forced from your throat.
โJust gimme one now and I promise I'll fuck another one outta you, okay? Come on-โ
You come so hard that your legs give out, the arm Stiles still has curled around your waist forced to tighten to keep you against his chest, his bicep bulging as he supports your weight through the throes of your orgasm. His fingers slow against your clit as you come down before stopping all together, his slick hand sliding up to rub soft along your tummy as you pant in exertion.
He gives you a moment to recover, but you're still breathing heavily by the time he presses a kiss to your cheek and urges you down on all fours. You assume the position easily, resting on your elbows with your sweaty forehead stuck against the pages of the textbook still spread out on the bed. Stiles strips down as your heart rate struggles to slow, the mattress moving under his weight a few times before the warmth of his body settles behind you again.
โYou good, baby?โ He checks softly, one wide palm running up the length of your spine to rub at your shoulder.
โ'm good, 'm good, just hurry up.โ You plead, arching your back when his hand trails back down. His thumb and forefinger pinch your backside, an effective reminder of the ink he'd stained your skin with, โNever told me what you drew on my ass.โ You laugh quietly, wiggling your hips in the hopes of enticing him into picking up the pace of things.
โOh,โ Stiles chuckles, thumbnail dragging over the ink as he grabs ahold of his cock and guides the head through your slick folds, โWrote my name.โ
Your responding laugh comes out in a breathy burst of air as he teases your entrance, pressing the tip in only to pull back and run it along the length of your wet cunt again.
โMy.. My ass says โStilesโ?โ You question through a body-wracking shudder when he teases his tip at your entrance again, pressing in just far enough for you to feel the stretch of his fat cock before he's pulling out all over again, the head bumping your swollen clit on the next pass through your folds.
โStiles? No way, babe. I went full-name for this one. Mark-h.. ohh..โ He stutters through his words the next time he presses in, letting the first couple of inches push into the tight heat of your cunt, โMarked my property accordingly n' all that.โ
You swallow down a moan as the head of his cock drags against your sensitive walls, already fluttering around his length as your fingers fist the bedspread in a white-knuckled grip.
โOh, fuck off,โ You gasp in mild incredulity, โYour property?โ You bite back, though the thought of the image admittedly prompts a swarm of butterflies in your tummy.
โMhm,โ Stiles hums a little breathlessly as his restraint wavers, pushing in another inch or so as his grip on your hip tightens, โDon't act like you don't think it's super hot. My name marked on your skin-โ
โShut up,โ You scoff weakly, โI do not.. Don't think it's hot.โ
โSure, babe,โ Stiles agrees condescendingly, โWanna write yours on my ass after we're done? Equality n' all that.โ
โSomehow, I'm not sure having McCall scrawled across your ass cheek is gonna have the same effect, even if it's got my name in front of it.โ You manage before rocking your hips back to force more of his cock in.
โFine, fine,โ Stiles huffs, โBut don't say I didn't offer-โ
โGod, will you just shut up and fuck me alread-โ
You're effectively cut off when Stiles drives all the way in with a hard thrust, a loud moan tearing from your throat.
โBetter?โ Stiles asks, already breathing a little heavy as he sets a punishing pace, the sound of skin slapping skin with each smack of his hairy thighs against the smooth backs of your own.
โYeah. Yeah, fuck, like that-โ You cry out in whimpered praise, โHarder. Sti, please, need it, harder.โ
His only response is a groan as he pounds into you with redoubled effort, the thick head of his cock hitting your cervix in a hard jolt with each thrust.
It doesn't take long for you to begin to fall apart all over again, Stiles' fingernails biting into the skin at your hips as he tugs you back down onto his cock again and again.
โFeel so fucking good.โ Stiles groans as you fuck yourself back in time with his thrusts.
A gasp tears past your lips when he slips an arm underneath you and drags you up until your back is flush with his sweaty chest again, the angle of his cock changing just enough to have you letting out a drawn out moan.
Your thighs settle on either side of his as he continues to pound up into you and then his hand is finding your face, forcing your head to the side so that he can draw you into a heated kiss. Your hand ensnares his wrist to hold Stiles' in place on your jaw, his fingers pressing into the sensitive spot beneath your ear as your mouths work in a sloppy mess of tongues and teeth and hot breaths.
His sweat-slicked forehead drops against yours, his cock managing to hit all of the right places as his thrusts slow slightly, each one a slow drag against your sensitive walls.
โGod, you.. You look so fuckin' pretty like this.โ Stiles tells you with another lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth.
The white-hot flame in your gut has you trembling in his arms and you reach back to tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, the soft strands trapped in an iron-tight grip as your back arches, your own head falling back against the curve of his shoulder.
โStiles-โ You whimper desperately, fingers tightening impossibly further around his sweat-damp hair.
He pants into your mouth, each of his slow, deep thrusts prompting obscene sounds from the place where the two of you are joined.
โYou close, babe?โ He asks breathlessly as he tries to hold off his own steadily approaching end, โGod, I need you t'come. Need more? Need me to touch you, baby?โ He questions in a rasp, ever attentive and desperate to please you as he always is.
Before you can even respond, he's already switching the placement of his hands on your body so that he can drop his right one down to cup your heat. His big hand finds the wetness between your thighs, fingers zeroing in on your clit with the sort of effortless precision that can only come from months intimacy, from hours upon hours spent learning every inch of your body, studying your reactions to his touch with a hyper-focussed intensity that was just so Stiles.
You cry out at the feeling of his fingers rubbing you with practiced movements, his cock driving against that spot inside of you only a handful more times before you're bearing down on him, mind whiting out with the toe-curling euphoria that takes over your body. The shaky moans that Stiles pushes from your lips as he keeps fucking into you are something that you'd be horrified to hear come from your own mouth if you had the brain capacity to process them through the fog of your orgasm โ but as it is, they tumble from your throat freely, your body trembling against the tight cocoon of Stiles' arms curled around your ribs as he supports your weight.
Your ears are only just beginning to hear sounds beyond the high-pitched ringing brought on by the strength of your climax when Stiles' thrusts begin to falter. The jerky slap of his hips against the backs of your thighs, his heavy breaths into the curve of your neck.
His fingers find where yours are still tangled in his hair and he tries to pry your grip away, โBaby, baby 'm gonna come,โ Stiles moans in warning, โWanna come on your ass. Please. Please, baby, I wanna-โ
You pitch forward easily, dropping onto your elbows with shaking arms and arching your back enticingly for him. Stiles groans loud at the sight, the sound of it getting caught in his throat as he pulls out and begins to jerk his cock in earnest. Lewd, slick noises fill the room over the sounds of your labored breathing, the wetness that coats him aiding the smooth drag of skin on skin as he fucks into his fist with a gut twisting sort of desperation.
With a little wiggle of your hips, you encourage him despite still being a little breathless, โCome on, Sti, give it to me. Paint it right there on your name-โ
โ'm gonna,โ He promises in a weak groan, the fingers of his free hand biting into the plush flesh at your hip with a bruising grip, โGonna fuckin'.. Shit, 'm gonna put it right there. Gonna.. Gonna mark my girl up so.. So fucking good. Fuck.. Fuck, I love you. Loveyouloveyouloveyou, I'm, shit, 'm coming-โ
Your mind is reeling a little bit in the wake of his lust-fueled admission, the dull beat of your heart echoing with his words as the warmth of his come meets your skin, dripping down the curve of your ass in thick ropes.
Stiles plasters himself to your back as he catches his breath, entirely uncaring of the mess of bodily fluids between you as lays down on the bed and pulls you into his chest. His breath falls against the sweat-slicked skin of your neck in warm puffs while his voice rings in your ears still โ the memory of those words, the wrecked rasp of them slipping past his lips.
Loveyouloveyouloveyou.
I love you.
You twist around in his arms, late-afternoon sunlight coming in through his bedroom window displaying the pink flush that lingers on his mole-speckled cheeks. Your head drops against the pillow currently underneath his own while your knee pushes between his hairy thighs, brown eyes finding yours, Stiles' gaze soft and sated.
โI love you too.โ You whisper through the nerves twisting in your stomach.
A wide array of emotions flicker across his face, initial confusion quickly melting away into a relieved sort of surprise.
โHoly shit,โ Stiles breathes, wide palm coming up to cover your jaw. His thumb swipes the apple of your cheek with smooth strokes and his eyes flick quick between yours, his lips pulling into a grin that dimples cutely in his cheek, โI can't believe I- Shit. No, I do though, I.. I love you.โ
โI love you.โ You repeat in a daze, fingertips tracing idle circles through the dark patch of hair at the center of his chest.
โDoes that mean you're gonna let me do this again when my name eventually washes off?โ He asks with a mischievous little grin that makes your insides twist warmly, his brows jumping up his forehead playfully.
โYou're an annoyingly territorial little shit, y'know that?โ You laugh softly before your brows are drawing together in slow confusion, โWait. Wha'd'you mean eventually? Why'd you say it like that?โ
โWell, y'know, I used a sharpie, so-โ
โYou used a permanent marker?โ You repeat incredulously, pinching his skin between your thumb and forefinger a little meanly as your nose scrunches up, โSuch a dickhead.โ
Stiles gives you a grin that spreads wide across his face until you can see those very same perfectly straight teeth that have left bruising love bites into the soft flesh on your backside. He dips his head and his lips find yours, the salty tang of the sweat clinging to his upper lip meeting your tongue as he speaks into your mouth with easy confidence.
listen. dont ever speak to me again. I am such a weak little bitch for soft/loving possessiveness. how dare you. this was so adorable and sweet and had an air of innocence and love. im gonna throw up.
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