#(also this is why i’ve been so missing on here been busy)
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
apresshampoing · 2 days ago
Text
YOOOOO INTRODUCING MY BULLY OC !!!!
Meet Kirsten my daughter!!!!!! (I also have a son in the making hehe)
I’ve been lurking for a while and been wanting to make an OC so here i am <3
Tumblr media
More info under the cut!!
❀ Kirsten Gilmore (16 ½, half is important. she will correct you.) ❀
born in Scotland in the freakin highlands. her family owns like 80 acres of land and sheep that have better genetics than most Bullworth students.
moved to the US at ten. still has the accent when she’s mad or wants to sound mysterious.
family = loaded. old money vibes. her dad runs some transatlantic cattle business and her mom looks like she’s in a perfume commercial but only ever says three words per day.
Legacy Baggage: Callum Gilmore
her brother. seven years older (24).
went to Bullworth but only for his last year. everyone loved him. he was everything, funny, golden boy, tall, charming, unnervingly good at poker.
now works as a nurse at Happy Volts.
still OBSESSED with Kirsten’s life. sends letters. shows up at school unannounced. thinks he’s helpful. he’s not. he is, however, the only person she genuinely loves more than herself. they trauma bonded in the Scottish woods one time during a sheep stampede and now she’d literally kill for him.
“Miss Piggy”
okay. look. yes. she once tried to smuggle her precious son, Hamlet the piglet, into Bullworth. I mean Chad can have Chester right???? so obviously Hamlet gets a pass too…
she crocheted him a little Aquaberry sweater with a crest.
he got loose. chaos ensued.
Hamlet is safe at home now, she learned her lesson.
now, everybody calls her Miss Piggy. she says it’s because they’re intimidated by a girl who is both well-fed and emotionally complex.
the name stuck, but lowkey… she’s reclaimed it. owns it.
Clique: PREPS
she's deep in the Preps clique but she’s considered like a third cousin or something. still wears the pastel cashmere and pearls though, it's cute af.
Tad thinks she’s “oddly aggressive, but charming in a deranged Scottish way.” he’s scared of her, she likes that.
Derby finds her tiresome and unpredictable. he tolerates her because of her family name and past prestige. she has dirt on him. he liked the piglet and they both know it. she will fight for Hamlet don’t even joke about that.
started the Etiquette Club with Pinky because they bonded over makeup, gossip, and pretending to be more cultured than they really are. the club has currently two (2) members right now. guess who. (probably the reason why Gary’s rumors are being spread so fast…)
Other Cliques & Why She’s Complicated
Greasers: absolutely NOT her type. she says things like “I can smell the motor oil from here.” BUT she lowkey dreams of a forbidden romance with one... she writes angsty poetry in her diary about “a boy who smells like gasoline and heartbreak.” would rather actually combust than admit she finds them kinda hot.
Nerds: she talks to them sometimes when she’s overwhelmed, because they somehow get the eye twitch thing. gives Melvin unsolicited advice on skincare.
Bullies: Russell once carried her to class when she twisted her ankle. she’s forever loyal now. bakes him shortbread cookies on Thursdays. she keeps her distances with the others though.
Jocks: neutral. she finds Ted repulsive but talks to Kirby because he complimented her handwriting once. still thinks they’re all emotionally repressed golden retrievers.
Townies: absolutely fascinated by them. they don't talk much though.
Personal Tidbits & Quirks
obsessive about control. probably has OCD, but undiagnosed because her family just calls it “being particular.” her eye twitches like crazy when feeling big emotions, it’s a family thing don’t worry.
addicted to her little compact mirror and mascara. reapplies it every period like a compulsion. even during fights.
keeps a planner. color-coded. you don't want to see what happens when she loses her planner.
do not ask if the mole is real or not she will bite you.
oddly knowledgeable about pigs.
secretly romantic, violently protective, and two seconds from a full mental breakdown at any given time.
writes letters to Hamlet and gives them to him when she comes home for the weekend. he eats them.
Tumblr media
108 notes · View notes
alexanderlightweight · 2 days ago
Note
Happy Wednesday! I know it’s late but can I ask for an update on the core of me belongs to you or the most fragile of poisons? NSFW/SFW
Hi! time doesn't matter as long as the 'ask button' says 'prompts open' then it's open no matter the time/day/date. You're good! last part here and happy wednesday even if its not wednesday! (i think that means just have a happy day but even i'm not sure and very tired so nini)
this is in the same timeframe, not a jump as the last part btw. they're in alec's room at the institute and it's after they've both slept. magnus is grooming alec's wings for him
<3 lumine
“You’ll have to tell me if I hurt you. Or if I’m missing something, sweetheart. I’ve never actually groomed wings before yours.  The last time I did do my best, but I think I’ll have a better idea if you can tell me what other’s normally do for you.”
Magnus is perfectly sure that’s a reasonable way to phrase it.  It’s not too questioning or suspicious and it can honestly be taken as a sincere form of concern.
Except Alexander clearly disagrees.
Magnus was too busy holding himself back the first time they met to have properly appreciated the unholy shudder of ethereal chimes as Alexander’s feathers all turn to adamas.  All but the ones touching Magnus’ skin. Those stay soft and plush and safe.  Not a single hint of adamas can touch him despite the proximity and Magnus shudders at the power just the touch of his hands wields over the man under his palms.
“They don’t.  I don’t allow more than familial grooming with anyone.”
The note in Alexander’s voice is clear, and there isn’t a single hint of hesitation and Magnus is wondering at his pure luck.
Magnus greedily presses his fingers deeper into Alexander’s wings, marveling as adamas transforms to plume before his skin can touch it.
“Except me.” Magnus presses, because he wants Alexander to admit it. For Magnus to be right and Alexander doesn’t even pause as his wings relax fully, the sound a sheathing of a blade as the adamas disappears.
“Except you.”
Alec isn’t sure how Magnus has not picked up on this yet.
However this means that he’s doing a better job of courting Magnus than he realized.  Alec has been concerned because he’s never certain where he’ll overstep and also he doesn’t want to pressure Magnus.  Not with his position or as a shadowhunter, just as someone completely inexperienced.  From what Jace and Izzy always complain about, no one wants someone they have to break in. Which is their normal reason for trying to drag him out and since Alec is more likely to break someone who tries to touch him than be broken, he’s always declined.
Also he’s not sure why they think dragging him out will help, if no one already wants to ‘break him in’. They’ve never thought through the fact that Alec’s instincts are rather predictable either.  Alec’s wings are out more than they’re not and he doubts they’ll stay away during sex. Which means the unfortunately likelihood of accidentally killing a partner during coitus instead of just a little death.
If Magnus wants confirmation though, Alec is more than happy to give it. The last thing he wants is Magnus thinking he’s planning hard to get. Or that Magnus isn’t special. An anomaly in every way and one that Alec continues to be grateful for. But he does not direct his gratitude towards Raziel as that feels blasphemous and disrespectful.  Towards Magnus. After all Raziel has no love for demons or any of their blood and to thank him would be giving him a credit that not even Alec’s angelic sire deserves.
If there is any credit or gratitude due it should be directed towards Magnus, simply for existing and being himself.
He’s magical in a way that goes far beyond the capacity of his power and Alec can’t imagine a world he would be drawn to and at the very least, admire Magnus.
So it makes no sense to deny it. That Magnus’ are the only hands Alec’s ever allowed to touch his wings so intimately. The last time someone tried as a taunt Alec was still a child and had his back turned.  It had been a natural and instinctive reaction and the other child’s fingers were eventually regrown.
Yet the lesson remains and Alec’s wings continue to react faster than a nephilim’s human limbs.
The mere thought of another touching him like Magnus has his feathers wreathed in adamas and ready for war, yet even as the transformation took place Alec felt no fear.  There was no part of him that could willingly, willfully hurt Magnus.  Alec’s wings are as intrinsic to him as breathing, to pluck them from him would be to steal the air from his lungs and blood from his veins.
Nothing that exists as a part of Alec could hurt Magnus. Not when Alec’s heart beats for him and it’s shown that Magnus must know that in some way, from his fearless touch and the way he only presses closer.  Unafraid and aware now — hopefully — of how completely Alec is his.
Magnus isn’t sure that he’s ever felt quite this viciously pleased before.
Edom is voracious in her hunger and it amplifies his own want as he slicks his fingers with oil from Alexander’s glands and and possessively preens another of Alexander’s feathers.  It feels like beautiful heresy to be doing such an intimate deed, especially after Alexander’s admitted that he’s only ever let Magnus touch him like this, in the Institute. This is the seat of Alexander’s power and Magnus is unraveling him with every touch.
It’s almost too much when realizes the entirety of what Alexander’s confession means.
Magnus knows enough of his boy — and truly, purely his — that Alexander rarely puts his wings away.  Which means that if Alexander’s never allowed another this close, he’s never allowed anyone too close, for anything.
It’s with that thought sending a heady thrill through him and Edom lapping it up as if it’s lava for her veins that Magnus leans down and presses a kiss to the back of Alexander’s neck.
Alexander’s wings quiver and his body trembles before he sighs, almost in relief and relaxes further into his bed.
As much as Magnus wants this to suddenly be the time. The moment in which he claims Alexander in body and soul, it’s the wrong timing.  Not because of the location either.  Magnus would love nothing more than to fuck the Institutes’s Commander in his own room.
It’s that while Alexander is accustomed and even delighted by Magnus’ magic and eyes, there is far more than what Magnus has shown him. Alexander may be his, but Magnus needs to sink his poison a little deeper until he’s sure it’s taken root.
Then and only then will he fully take what’s his and further tighten the bonds between him and Alexander.
AN:
Btw. The poison magnus is talking to. The poison the title alludes to. It’s love. That’s it. Love is the poison but Magnus is not willing to call it love rn. Those are emotions. Magnus is above those kinds of tawdry affairs okay? His heart doesn’t do that ‘I like you’ thing anymore.
Alec exists.
Magnus: … my heart is doing a perfectly normal obsessive thing.  I want him because he’s handsome. And adorable. And sweet. And beautiful. And his laugh. And the way he lets me tease him while smiling at me. And when he holds my hands and opens doors for me and uses his wings to ensure the path is clear or the sun isn’t too shiny or the wind isn’t too windy.  This is purely an obsessive admiration. I don’t do that love thing. Or care.
Alec: hi. wow. I love you.
Magnus: Egypt is lovely this time of the year isn’t it.  I quite like the river there.
Magnus as casual as can be: so what am I up against here?
Alec: nothing?
Magnus: …
Alec: no, literally nothing. It’s just you.
Magnus: mine? All mine? Just mine?
Alec: yes?
Magnus: MINE.
Alec: yes.
Magnus doesn’t care about the concept of virginity, but he is pleased all the same. Like he wouldn’t have thought alec was ‘tainted’ or ‘impure’ or whatever.  He just would have killed them. And also shown Alec he was definitely better and you know, it’s helpful to have a lesser model of comparison okay? He wouldn’t be upset alec had sex, he’d just also not want the others to continue to exist. For personal reasons of preference. He would have killed anyone who has just intimately preened Alec’s wings as well.
Magnus is having a very hard time controlling his instincts of just, unleashing his power rn. But he is really enjoying this soft wooing okay? And tbh a little bit of him is worried that some of it will stop. Or that Alec will be less open and so… hmm the word. Uh, soft? Like very open with his feelings and actions. Magnus is worried that will be stifled when his true rank and power come out so he wants alec to be too deeply into him for that to happen. Because what he’s experiencing is actual happiness for the first time in centuries. And he’s not about to give that up, which is why he wants alec to love him too deeply to change his behavior. Hence the poison seeping too deep, magnus wants it to reach alec’s heart and be fully absorbed by it.
Metaphorical poison still.
Magnus is being both incredibly upfront and incredibly sneaky and he’s very good at it and tbh he has nothing to worry about., Alec’s going to be like ‘wow… so he’s even more amazing and magical.’
Alec: can you make the sun a little brighter?
Magnus: why?
Alec: so I have an excuse to cover you with my wings
Alec: do you want to portal us to a mountain and I’ll fly us up above the peak to share the view?
Magnus: I know the perfect location
Alec: so you have enough magic to handle the weight of my wings if I want to ride you? Right?
Magnus: yes but also we should test it, for science.
Later—
Magnus: wait darling, if you wanted to do all these things before why are you only asking now? Especially this?
Alec serious as fuck: I wasn’t sure your about magic levels and it seemed rude to ask and you never brought it up. Now I don’t need to worry you’ll over exert yourself. My wings are heavy magnus, what if you couldn’t hold me up if necessary and I fell on you and broke something?
Magnus muttering angrily at himself: months we could have been doing this
Jace and izzy are definitely the type to tell alec he needs experience and practice and I’m not sure if they did in canon but I wouldn’t be surprised.
52 notes · View notes
lemonynuggets · 7 months ago
Text
I might take a little social media break soon, I need to focus on some big events coming up on my life and I feel like it’d just be good for my health in general
I’ll still be on discord a lot tho (I love talking to my friends yayy) so if you wanna talk to me for any reason you can find me there!! Waos!!!!
So uhh bye in around a week I guess!!
11 notes · View notes
emptymilk-bottle · 11 months ago
Text
guys i’m in murica rah 🗣️🗣️🗣️🦅🦅🔥🦅🔥🦅🔥
(i’m actually going to canada)
4 notes · View notes
insanechayne · 5 months ago
Text
~ ~ ~
1 note · View note
piastriprincess · 6 days ago
Text
here the whole time  ⸻  oscar  piastri  x  reader  .
featuring  oscar  piastri  ,  uni  au  ,  oscar  and  reader’s  relationship  is  kinda  two  dumb  bitches  telling  each  other  exactlyyyyy  ,  lando  and  george  haunting  the  narrative author’s  note requested  by  anon!  i’m  sorry  this  took  so  long  but  i  hope  this  lived  up  to  your  expectations  <3  this is my official contribution to the oscar piastri cringefail loserboy agenda !! i’m  still  getting  the  hang  of  smaus  so  don’t  hate  me  too  bad  for  this  .  as  always  please  lmk  what  you  think  ,  i  love  to  hear  from  yall  !  title  is  from  you  belong  with  me  by  taylor  swift  !
Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff and 549 others yourusername breaking news: local girl is cold but she’s being really really brave about it
student1 giving editor in chief OF MY HEART ♥ liked by author student2 hiiii i hope this isn’t too weird but i’m a freshman and i really wanted to join the chronicle last semester but missed the app deadline, is there still a way i can get involved? ⤷ yourusername omg of course!! dm me, we’d love to have you on board 😎 ⤷ yourbff best co-EIC frfr!! ♥ liked by author georgerussell63 Looking forward to working with you again! ♥ liked by author ⤷ yourusername george we’ve been friends for 4 years why are you in my instagram comments like you’re my 40 year old coworker 😭😭😭 student3 she edits, she writes, she gatekeeps the google drive, she looks good doing it!!! oscarpiastri Cool photos 👍 ⤷ yourusername thanks osc!!
Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
to: Campus Cupid <[email protected]> from: Oscar Piastri <[email protected]> subject: Crush advice?
Hi Cupid,
This is slightly embarrassing, and I’m not totally sure how this works because I’ve never actually read your column, but my friend Lando said you give decent advice. Honestly, I could really use some, because I’m properly hopeless at this stuff. So here goes. 
There’s this girl I like. We’re not super close or anything, but we kind of orbit around each other if that makes sense? You know, a few mutual friends, some classes together, that kind of stuff. She’s brilliant — like genuinely really smart, and always has takes that make me see things differently. And she’s funny too. She’s got this way of making little offhand observations that just make me laugh. Stunning as well, but honestly that doesn’t crack the top 10 of things I like about her. She’s just… amazing, basically, and ridiculously out of my league. 
The issue is I have no idea whether she thinks of me as more than a friend. I’m not great at the whole romance thing to begin with, and I definitely don’t know how to figure out if she likes me or not. And even if she did, how am I supposed to tell her I like her? Do I just say it and hope for the best? Drop hints and pray she picks up on them? Keep emotionally repressing the feelings until I explode (which at this point is kind of seeming like the most likely option?)
I don’t want to make things uncomfortable for her or put pressure on her, but I also don’t want to spend the rest of the semester pretending I’m not interested when I definitely am. Would love some advice from the romance expert. 
— Sincerely, A Very Lost Cause (you can pick something less cringe if you want. I couldn’t really think of anything good. Yikes, I’m overthinking the sign-off too, aren’t I?) ───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
January 24
Welcome back to Cupid’s corner, where your love life is my business. Whether you’re falling in love or falling flat on your face, I’m here to help! XOXO, Cupid 💌
Q: My situationship told me he’s “emotionally available in theory,” but when I asked him to share how he’s feeling about us, he didn’t respond until 2 AM asking me to come over and talk about it. What does this mean? — Theoretical Thot
A: Dear Theoretical Thot, it sounds like he’s “emotionally available” the way that your professor is “available outside of office hours” — AKA, he’s not. Plus, the 2 AM text is the emotional equivalent of suggesting you meet up to discuss your relationship at a frat party: technically possible, but the environment isn’t exactly screaming meaningful conversation. If he was really willing to talk, that’s great, but make sure he’s not just creating an excuse to find you in his bed again! You deserve someone who doesn’t treat their feelings and yours like a part time job.
Q: I want to do something cute for my girlfriend for Valentine’s Day, but I spent my extra money on this fancy protein powder and now I’m completely broke. What’s a good budget Valentine’s idea? — Rich in Love (Poor in Cash)
A: Dear Rich in Love, it’s so sweet that you’re thinking about Valentine’s Day plans already. Broke V-Day is basically an extreme sport at this point, but it doesn’t mean you can’t still score! Being creative is wayyyy sexier than throwing a bunch of money. Write her a love letter! Or make her a playlist! You could even do a scavenger hunt connected to moments in your relationship. Years from now, she’ll remember the thought you put in, not the money you spent. Whatever you do, just make sure it’s from the heart! And maybe lay off the protein powder.
Q: I’ve got a crush on a friend of mine, but I have no idea whether she sees me as more than a friend or how to tell her I like her without making things weird. Help! — A Very Lost Cause
A: Dear Lost Cause, this is a tricky situation. I get the urge to go full rom-com and just confess your feelings, but maybe you should pump the brakes a little. If she IS interested, she’s probably already picking up on your energy. Maybe act a little bit less available? Sometimes people need space to realize exactly what… or who… they’re missing. But (out of purely professional curiosity, of course) what kind of friend are we talking? Lab partner? Frat sweetheart? My advice might change with a little more background info. 
Campus Cupid will run weekly until Valentine’s Day. After that, I turn back into a pumpkin (or just another regular student who cries in the library). Need help with a crush crisis? Email me at [email protected]. XOXO! ───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
♥  lando, yourusername and georgerussell63 liked this story!
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
♥  yourbff, oscarpiastri and georgerussell63 liked this story!
Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ───────── to: Campus Cupid <[email protected]> from: Oscar Piastri <[email protected]> subject: re: Crush advice?
Hi Cupid,
Me again (still a Very Lost Cause, I fear.) Thanks for answering my question last week. 
I tried your advice about pulling back and being less available, but I think it didn’t work. Or maybe I’m just shit at following advice. Probably both. The thing is, I think I’m sort of terrible at playing it cool. Every time I tried to give her space or forced myself to wait before texting her back, I was pretty much just staring at my phone like an idiot. And when I canceled plans with her, I spent half the night feeling like a complete dropkick and wishing I hadn’t. I ended up messaging her anyway — couldn’t even ignore her for more than a few hours.
The really pathetic thing, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this, is that I got jealous. Like properly jealous over nothing, which is insane, because I have no right to be, especially when I’m the one who backed off. But she was hanging out with this guy I thought might be into her, and for a few hours I genuinely considered transferring uni's. Turns out he’s not (thank God), but it kind of proves my point. 
I can’t play it cool with her. I don’t want to pull back. I like being around her. I like talking to her. I like the way she scrunches her nose when she’s confused. I like how she always has something smart to say even when she’s completely exhausted. I like that she always remembers the small things I say even when I don’t think she’s listening. I like her, full stop. And the more time I spend trying to act like I don’t, the worse it feels. 
So. Since pulling back didn’t work, what do I do now?
— Sincerely, your Very Very Lost Cause ───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
February 7
Welcome back to Cupid’s corner! Because nothing says happy Valentine’s Day like mild emotional panic sent to an anonymous advice columnist. Let’s fix your love life (and maybe mine too!) XOXO, Cupid 💌
Q: I had one too many cups of jungle juice at my frat’s mixer this weekend and accidentally liked my crush’s Instagram post from 2013. Should I transfer schools? — Butterfingers
A: Dear Butterfingers, take a deep breath. Although I get your impulse to flee the country, this is not a transfer-worthy offense. Here’s a wild idea: use this as an excuse to actually talk to them! Apologize for your social media snafu and follow it up with actual conversation. Or just pretend it never happened and continue living in denial like the rest of us. 
Q: I matched with my econ professor’s son on Tinder. We’ve been talking a little, and I kind of like him, but now I’m starting to feel super weird in lecture. Help! — Hot for Teacher(’s Son)
A: Dear Hot for Teacher(’s Son), what do you value more? The class or the guy? It sounds like it’s still early enough to drop either one. If you keep talking to him, you're going to spend every lecture wondering if Professor Dad knows you're the one sliding into his son's DMs. And if things go south romantically, you'll still have to sit through a whole semester of avoiding eye contact while learning about supply and demand curves. My advice? Be upfront with the guy about the situation and let him decide if he's comfortable with it too. If you're both cool with the weirdness, go for it. Just maybe don't bring him as your +1 to any department events.
Q: I tried to take your advice and pull back, but I don’t think it worked. I’m not good at playing it cool. What else could I do to make it clear that I like her? — A Very Very Lost Cause
A: Dear Lost Cause, I’m glad you’re back! Look, if playing it cool isn’t working, maybe it’s time to go in the complete opposite direction. Sometimes you have to be bold and put yourself out there in a big way. Here’s what I’m thinking: make a public gesture. Do something that gets people’s attention — at a party, or in front of your friends, or somewhere on campus where people will see. The bigger and more public, the better! 
Campus Cupid will run weekly until Valentine’s Day, after which I disappear into the mist like every good university urban legend. Time is running out to send me your burning questions and bad romantic choices at [email protected]. XOXO!
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
liked by yourbff, lando, and 632 others yourusername working hard or hardly working? (hint it’s working hard we are working VERY HARD)
yourbff putting the DEAD in deadline ♥ liked by author student7 shoutout to red bull and crying in the print lab!! georgerussell63 You said you wouldn’t post it!!!!! ⤷ yourusername me when i lie :) ⤷ yourbff thank you for this GIFT student8 if we die bury us in the layout room prof.hamilton Amazing work!! So proud of my advisees ♥ liked by author oscarpiastri Killing it!! ♥ liked by author ⤷ yourusername my emotional support oscar 🥹 student9 she’s beauty she’s grace she hasn’t slept in 48 hours lando can you send that picture of gorge to me please
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
to: Campus Cupid <[email protected]> from: Oscar Piastri <[email protected]> subject: re: re: Crush advice?
Hi Cupid,
Me again — for the last time, I swear! Although I think your inbox is probably closing anyway, given that it’s almost Valentine’s Day. 
First of all, thanks for your advice. It pretty much all terrified me, but I think I needed the push to stop overthinking everything. You made me feel a little less like an idiot fumbling around in the dark with this stuff, which honestly is a minor miracle. Even though your advice didn’t work out, it was definitely better than Lando's. To be honest, I probably wouldn’t have gotten where I am without you.
Which brings me to where I am, I guess. As much as I want to beg you for more advice, as much as I want to stall and make it absolutely perfect for her, I think I’ve gotten to the point where no guidance, even from the self-proclaimed campus love expert, is going to make this any easier.
There is no perfect way to say it. There is no magic sentence, no secret signal that will make everything fall into place. I like her, and I don’t want to waste any more time pretending I don’t or hoping she figures it out on her own. 
So I’m just going to tell her. No schemes to figure out if she likes me too. No grand gestures that I forget to put my name on. Just us — just me, finally saying what’s been on my mind for a while. And whatever happens, at least I’ll know I said it.
Wish me luck, Cupid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get another success story out of it.
— Sincerely, Oscar
PS: Also, I’m sorry I never answered your question about who she was to me. Maybe it would have made for better advice, but since you work for the Chronicle you probably know her, so I didn’t want to risk it. ───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
you have (1) missed call from osco • listen to voicemail? 1:21 ▶‖ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။•
“Hey, Happy Valentine's Day. Okay. Um… okay. [soft laugh] I really don’t know what I’m doing, or why I thought I’d be able to say this without getting nervous, but, uh, here goes. [sigh] This wasn’t how I planned it, you know. I was going to tell you after class like a normal person. But you didn’t show up, and now I’ve got all this stuff I want to say to you and nowhere to put it but your voicemail. I — I like you. A lot. Like, emailed Campus Cupid multiple times trying to figure out how to tell you, a lot. I tried to follow their advice and pull back, but I couldn’t really… stay away from you. [laugh] I mean, I bought the entire Chronicle donuts and a coffee machine because I thought it might make it obvious to you that I liked you. But even after all of that, I don’t know if you feel the same way. I really don’t. Just… I don’t know, I couldn’t not tell you, even if you don’t feel that way about me. [pause] And now I’m running to yours because I just realized I’m a complete idiot for not saying this to your face. I’ll be there in 10 minutes, just — please answer the door? Oh. Shit. Uh, this is Oscar by the way.”
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
───────── ☆ ─────────
Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff and 1,092 others yourusername turns out my “bad advice” was some of my best. campus cupid signing off, xoxo 💌
yourbff pause for the big reveal… ♥ liked by author ⤷ yourusername and they never saw it coming babyyyy yourbff i called oscyn btw 😤😤 never back down never WHAT student12 YOU’RE CAMPUS CUPID???? georgerussell63 Blimey are you serious? Never would have guessed it, well done xx ⤷ yourbff george try not to sound intensely british challenge [FAILED] [NOT CLICKBAIT] ⤷ georgerussell63 @ yourbff you love it ⤷ yourbff oh 🫠 i kinda do ??? student13 absolutely iconic announcement + hard launch student14 OBSESSED WITH THIS you two are so cute !! oscarpiastri Love you (even though you sabotaged me) ♥ liked by author ⤷ yourusername love you too (i looked really cute doing it though right?) ⤷ oscarpiastri The cutest ⤷ lando gross get a room
1K notes · View notes
i-love-ptv · 1 month ago
Text
Hand Prints and Good Grips…✱*.:。✧
Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x Childhood Best friend!Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Trouble brews once Mary walks into the twins’ juke joint, and you just wanna be the girl Elias likes.
wc: 6,103
warnings: porn with lots of plot, jealous!dom!Elias, sub!reader, clit slapping, face-sitting, cunnilingus, unprotected p-in-v, dirty-talk, degradation (not tew much but it’s there), overstimulation (r receiving), rough sex, manhandling, slight tit sucking/licking, marking, creampie (gulp??), language, one klan mention, shitty southern writing
Tumblr media
an: HEY GUYS!!! THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC EVER WOOHOO! (ignore how it took me a month to make it, i’ve been going thru it man) i’m literally obsessed w sinners so hopefully i did stack justice! do y’all even read these? anyways
feedback is always appreciated n welcomed <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Your hair was starting to cling onto your forehead as if you were drenched in sticky molasses.
The air was humid and dry; of course, this was a Mississippi custom, but it doesn’t help that there’s dozens of bodies stomping and prancing around.
Though you can’t complain much, considering that you were right here with them—dancing as if you hadn’t in years.
In a way, you haven't. You haven’t felt a rush of autonomy and euphoria quite like this before.
With everyone being nothing but working busy-bodies, there’s been little to no time to plan big events such as tonight. The lack of excitement has been a major factor too.
Hence why as soon as the Moore twins came back into town with the intention to open up their very own juke joint, everyone was on board.
The pair hadn’t been seen here in seven years.
Seven long, cruel years without the twin you’ve grown to love.
Stack.
Well, he was Stack to everyone else. But to you? He was still Elias. Your ‘Lias.
Seven years without his lingering touches and pearly smiles.
You weren’t the only one that missed him, it seems.
Your sister told you that when she went down near the train station, she was right there waiting for your Elias.
Mary was waiting.
You don’t have a clue as to how she knew he was coming home before you did, considering that nobody from the Delta had heard from him except for you. And a letter from him was rather rare.
Mary had nearly thrown a fit once she saw him; it didn’t help that Elias had turned down her persistent advances.
The lack of contact obviously sent her over the edge.
Apparently she mentioned their former relations; their connection being a secret to none.
You were envious of this; never jealous, but overcome by a feeling of want.
Growing up with the twins meant that the three of you were as close as can be. That being said, though, they looked at you as if you were their little sister. It was fine when Elijah assumed the role of a family member, but Elias?
Just thinking about it makes your heart ache.
You longed for the flirtatious remarks that he’d give off to any and every woman, a night filled with intimacy plagued your mind constantly.
But you got over it.
You had to. Not only for the sake of your friendship with Elias, but also because of his prolonged absence from town.
That’s why tonight—right now, you had to pump the breaks and focus on celebrating the twins’ success.
Speaking of success?
You making your way over to the bar with your wobbly heeled-covered feet was a success. Surprisingly.
“Someone’s been dancin’ a lil too hard, huh?” Annie chortles, looking at you with nothing but sisterly-love, and a bit of amusement.
“Only dancin’ I was doing was during my cooking—nothin’ like this in a while,” you exclaim with bliss through a beaming smile. You huff as you sit down in front of the bar. “Y’got anythin’ good back here?” You motion to the bottles Annie has surrounding her.
“Better than good,” Annie replies before ducking down and searching below the counter.
You brace your hands on the counter and slightly peer over at the woman, but then she pops up quicker than you can plop back down onto your chair. She quirks a brow at you before placing a bottle down in front of you.
“What’s this?” You question; if Annie didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought that it was Christmas morning with the way you were looking at the bottle.
“Authentic Irish beer; straight from the north side of Chicago. Different from the rest they’re sellin’.” She replies. “Your man brought it specifically for you—made me promise I wouldn’t give it to nobody else, no matter how much they was payin’.”
You bite back a smile at her words; you knew exactly who she was talking about.
“He fixin’ to be Mary’s.” Your lips straighten, it’s bittersweet.
“That so? ‘Cause that ain’t what I heard,” Annie muses, making you pause. You savor Annie’s words as if they were your holy grail. Was there a chance that Elias looked at you the same as you did him?
You crane your neck and your gaze is set over your shoulder—over at him.
He catches your eye and he gives you a cheeky smile, to which you return rather eagerly.
You hadn’t had a single nonchalant bone in your body it seems.
Your shared staring was cut short as Mary forced Elias’ attention back onto her, but it wasn’t exactly a hard task for her.
Something about her was just so easy and simple, despite the ring shining on her hand that matched another man’s being anything but simple. The way that they connected even after all these years made you feel as if you swallowed a jar of mud.
After a few sips of beer, you can’t help but let a smile rest on your face. Elias knew you’d love it, and it makes your heart dance.
Speaking of dancing, your dearest friend Pearline struts up to you with a grin that soared for miles.
“What’s got you cheesin’ all hard?” You raise your eyebrows at her, making her giggle.
“Y’know the Preacher’s boy? The one that was just singin’?” Pearline’s nearly jumping out of her skin with excitement.
“Lil’ Sammie Moore? Course I do, why? What’d you do Pearl?” You gape at her and hold her hands tightly in yours.
“Well…” She trails off. “Let’s just say, he showed me he ain’t a boy, but a real man.”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of the sockets as you exclaim a Pearline! that could probably be heard for miles.
Pearline gushes, “He made me feel things I ain’t never felt before.”
“Not even with your mister?” You gasp.
“Not even close. And that’s not all,” she pauses before looking around, then leaning in towards you.
“I wasn’t even able to freshen up. He didn’t want me to,” Pearline whispers.
You shout, then look around in embarrassment at your outburst; you shake Pearline vigorously by her shoulders and giggle some more.
You decide to look around the joint, and you coincidentally catch Sammie looking right at the back of Pearline’s frame in utter awe.
You nudge Pearline, and she looks over at him with you. The look that she throws his way is nothing short of flirtatious.
“He looked at ya like he wanted t’take a bite,” you snicker.
Pearline looks at you mischievously, “Funny, considerin’ he already did.” You can’t help but laugh.
“So, y’thinkin’ bout singin’ like he said?” You ask.
Pearline hums, “Maybe. ‘M thinkin’ you should too.”
“No, not happenin’. Not a chance,” You scoff playfully.
Pearline whines and grabs your wrists. “C’mon, sista! When’s the last time you got the chance to do this?” She pouts, and tries hardest to make puppy-dog eyes at you.
“Besides, this could be y’chance to make a move on Stack. Ain't that whatcha been waitin’ for?” She drags.
You falter at the question she poses.
“Tonight’s the night, sista.” Pearline murmurs softly.
It’s crazy how you always get in your head when it comes to him.
The thing is, you weren’t one to throw yourself out there just to entertain a man. No, that just wasn’t your style.
But God—tonight? His suit was fitting snug in all the right places, his grills glimmered dangerously in the dim lighting, and his eyes always found yours, recklessly.
You couldn’t resist Elias Moore.
And right now, you’re starting to wonder if you ever could.
“Y’better wrap that scarf on tight, Pearl,” you say as you grab her arm and start walking with her to the front. Pearline shrills and claps her hands with glee.
You saunter towards the stage with a pep in your step and your arm linked with a perky Pearline. Your heels clack on the wooden floors as you come face-to-face with the band and none other than Delta Slim, who’s now grinning at you.
“Been tryin’ to getcha to sing for years girl, what’s with the change o’ heart?” He questions with a smirk, as if he already knew the answer. You’re sure that he did with the way that his eyes looked past you and towards Elias.
“It’s a nice night, figured I’d try sum different,” you shrug, trying to mask your sudden embarrassment. Pearline intertwines her hand with yours and uses her other one to gesture to the band. You inhale deeply while looking at her; she gives you a look of reassurance.
The patrons of the juke joint grow silent at the sight of you two taking your stances and the band readying their instruments.
Pearline starts humming and you lightly stomp your feet on the stage, starting to form a beat as the band follows.
Tumblr media
Elias feels as if his heart was being weighed down by a ton inside of him. He held his breath—scared that the rise and fall of his chest would make him miss the steady view of you: parading around as if everything outside the joint had come to a halt.
You looked completely, and utterly divine up there; moving swiftly and effortlessly, as if you owned the very ground you were stepping on.
You were absolutely ethereal in Elias’ eyes.
And he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t falling even harder for his sugar as of right now. He was the only man that could get away with calling you sugar; he knows it, so does everyone else in the Delta—and Elias can’t help but let his pride swell every time he thinks about it.
Your body sways carelessly as if you were one with the words that escaped your lips, but your eyes are grounded—powerful, even. Speaking of them: your glittering orbs meet his, your gaze nothing short of a vixen’s.
Though, the interlocking of your sights is interrupted when Mary makes her presence known yet again at Elias’ side. He can’t help but sigh at the intrusion.
Luckily, Elias’ ever-growing agitation fades when the patrons of the juke let out their elation around him. The band’s playing picks up, as well as you and Pearline’s voices.
Don’t let it shine, shine, shine once more
Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon
Everyone chants and stomps rhythmically.
“I wanna sing, like I hear the crickets do,” Pearline sings seductively while peering at Sammy as she struts.
Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon
“I wanna hoo,” you and Pearline sing simultaneously, harmonizing beautifully as your backs meet and you both slide to a crouching position.
Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon
“I wanna howl,” the two of you sound as if you were straight out of a folktale—like one of those myths of the sirens that Annie had explained to Elias once before. You and Pearline then reside in a crawl as you look at the crowd with a sense of hunger in your eyes.
Mary gets ahold of Elias’ tie, but he quickly removes her grip from him—without even breaking eye contact with you. He knows she’s interested in spending the rest of the night with him; maybe in hopes of rekindling an old flame.
But how could Elias be interested in another woman when his woman—his sugar—was looking at him so deliciously.
You grin slyly at him, biting your bottom lip before licking your teeth.
Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon
“I wanna scream,” Pearline sings, as you mouth the three words to Elias.
Three little words that have Elias fucking mesmerized, hypnotized even. You have him in a trance, right where you want him, and you both know it.
Elias wishfully thinks that the pick up in your breathing isn’t just from all the dancing you’ve been doing tonight. He bites his lip at the thoughts running through his mind.
Mary can’t even say that she recognizes the look that Elias gives you, for she has never been on the receiving end like you have been. Her frustration and jealousy boils over, and she eventually huffs before walking away from Elias, and out of the juke joint.
Elias doesn’t mind one bit, and he sure as hell doesn’t when the song finishes and you hug Pearline with excitement as the joint nearly turns upside down. You’re jumping up and down and Elias can’t help but smile til his cheeks hurt.
Elias feels a hand slap somewhat roughly on his shoulder. He knows good and well it’s his brother, with or without the wave of tobacco radiating.
“Came out here after the game finished, saw the way she was lookin’ at’cha, too.” Elijah grumbles.
“Breathtakin’, ain’t she?” Elias remarks breathily, not even turning to his brother—keeping his sights on you, as you hug Slim and the rest of the instrument players.
“Not ‘bout how I feel, ‘s ‘bout how you feel,” Elijah sighs. This makes Elias turn towards his brother.
“Don’t know what’chu waitin’ on, already been years,” Elijah then pauses before continuing, “Don’t be surprised when somebody see what’chu see.” Elijah trails off, almost ominously, and nods his head in your direction.
Elias follows his twin’s trail of sight and spots you: talking to a man he ain’t even seen before. You were beaming, your hair a little frizzed up by the humidity, your lipgloss smudged a little onto your shimmering skin.
Speaking of your lipgloss—whoever you’re talking to decided to rub his finger below your lip to wipe it away. Right now, Elias’ demeanor resembles the snake him and his brother killed earlier: cold and unmoving.
You glance around the sea of bodies, and Elias takes this as a sign. He starts to walk up to you, but not before having to mumble several ‘excuse me’s while side-stepping quite a few people—who seem to not be able to hold their liquor.
He finally reaches you, and he gets a glimpse of you over the guy’s shoulder, who has no idea he’s even there.
“We got a problem?” Elias murmurs, making the stranger nearly jump out of his skin.
“N-nah man,” the man chuckles awkwardly as he faces Elias.
“I reckon we do, since y’talkin’ to my lady,” Elias replies, sizing him up as he takes a step closer to him. The man takes a step back in return.
“I ain’t know, I-I’m sorry, Stack,” the man trembles meekly. Elias only hums. The man glances between the two of you before making himself scarce.
Elias stays in the same spot for a beat, before turning and giving you a look that says let’s go, before walking towards one of the back rooms of the joint. You hesitate, before inching behind him.
“So I’m y’lady now?” You don’t bother to tone down the sass in your voice.
“‘S what I said, ain’t it?” he mumbles, not even looking at you.
You scoff, “Yeah, well, y’got a funny way a’ showin’ it.”
Elias pulls you into a dimly lit room and finally faces you as you stand before him. “What’s that s’possed to mean?”
You narrow your eyes at him before speaking. “Means I saw you messin’ with ole Mary.”
“She don’t mean nun to me,” Elias guaffs. “Why d’ya think she left already?”
You roll your eyes and begin to head out the door you just came from. You’re not sure where this attitude just came from, in all honesty. The moment your eyes met him while you were on stage, it felt as if everything else had faded away, and it was just the two of you.
Maybe it was the irritation caused by Mary that left you in a sour mood now, you’re not sure. You know it won’t be beneficial to you nor Elias in this moment, but you can’t help it.
Elias grabs your wrist before you can get too far away from him.
“She ain’t nun, y’hear?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he almost sounded desperate. You stay quiet.
“Asked you a question, sugar. ‘N with that attitude of yours, I ain’t fixin’ to repeat myself.” His lips ghost the shell of your ear as he speaks, and heat twinges through your stomach. Elias seems to take notice of the subtle switch in your demeanor; he smirks and his chocolate brown irises darken even further.
“I…I don’t believe you,” You almost whisper, but still meet his gaze.
Almost immediately, he responds with, “What I got to do to convince you, baby?” Elias matches your tone, but there’s still a hint of assertiveness conveyed through his words.
You don’t speak—it’s almost like you couldn’t, but you release your wrist from his grasp gently.
Elias’ jaw clenched slightly, but you still spot it. He looks as if he’s pondering his next words.
“‘S not makin’ sense, darlin’. I mean, you were acting like a whore on stage, now you don’t want me to touch you?” He cocks his head at you and your lips part—like it was reflex, and maybe it was. Elias clicks his tongue.
Your breath picks up, and if your mind weren’t turning fuzzy, you would’ve chided yourself for making a fool out of yourself in front of a man—Elias at that.
The man you’ve yearned for longer than you can even remember.
“I ain’t no whore,” you speak, finally regaining your senses.
“That right, sugar?” You can feel Elias’ breath on your heated face, and all you can do is nod in return.
“Y’wanna know what I think?” Before you can answer the question Elias poses, he murmurs lowly, “I think that deep down….You are a whore—and you needa be fucked like one.”
Despite the vulgarity of his words, the way that Elias places his palm across your cheek is soft—loving, even.
You press your thighs together through your dress unconsciously, desperately seeking even an ounce of friction to cool the impending heat between your legs.
Elias takes the hand that rested upon your cheek and moved it to the stiff rim lock that resided on the door’s surface.
Thank god—You’d hate for the likes of someone such as Sammie barging in and being witness to sin hotter than the Mississippi sun.
Elias then starts to walk you back to the table that remained bare in the dingy-lit room, removing his suit jacket and vest, followed by his tie. The backs of your knees meet the edge of the firm table, making you stumble just a bit. Elias takes it upon himself to lay you down onto the table.
You rest on your elbows as you look up at the six-foot-something man in front of you, and you can’t help but swoon. His beating eyes look down at you lustfully—almost as if he were a predator, and you his prey.
It made you weak.
Weak at the hands of a man you’d been waiting on while he had the time of his life in Chicago, with all sorts of Italian customs. Your actions are beyond halfwitted, but you make no effort to straighten yourself out anymore.
Elias takes his warm hands and spreads your knees with ease after unbuttoning his shirt, making you yelp involuntarily at the near-abrasiveness. He licks his grillz and lets out a short, deep chuckle; you feel it vibrate your bones, while he aligns himself so that almost he’s eye-level with your warm core.
“Elias, wait—“ You whimper meekly,
He hums disapprovingly, letting out a firm ‘mm-mmn’. He rips his gaze from your thighs to your eyes, “Been waitin’ for years, sugar, not sure if I can any longer.” He repositions his hands, lifting your dress and hitching it up to your upper thighs, nearly to your pelvic bone.
Elias massages your thighs with an iron grip, it’s not yet rough, but not exactly gentle either. His switch between the two is making your mind reel.
He kisses up from your knee almost to where your dress bunches up as he removes his button-up, leaving him in his undershirt. He then says, “…So, m’sorry if I lose m’manners,” he breathes hotly against your skin, “But I don’t think I can live without destroying this pussy for a minute longer.” He damn near groans.
His mouth hovers above your clothed cunt—he purposely breathes in a way that makes you squirm at the feeling you’re unable to run from. As you shudder and tilt your head back, you suddenly hear a rip and you feel a gust of air.
You gasp and look down, where you’re met with Elias looking up at you cheekily, with one half of your panties in his mouth, and the other in his hand.
“‘Lias!” You exclaim.
Elias feigns innocence, “Told ya I ain’t mean no harm.” He then averts his focus to your legs, and he leaves a kiss to your mound.
“Y’not gon let me freshen up, will ya?” You ask quietly, already knowing the answer.
Instead of answering, Elias takes his tongue and trails it from your hole to your clitoris, and you puff out the air you didn’t know you were holding in.
Elias seems to enjoy your reaction, for he then gives you another long lick.
And another,
and another,
and you guessed it, another.
You press your lips together, muting your sounds, and Elias ‘tsk’s at the sight.
He nips a bit of the skin next to your lips, making you choke on your own spit. “Don’t like how quiet you’re bein’.” Elias reprimands you.
“Stop t-teasin’ then,” You manage to huff.
Elias chuckles in disbelief, “Wanted to be gentle, but y’makin’ it hard,” he then lifts you up from the table, and places his back where you once laid. He hooks your legs over the sides of his head, your pussy now inches away from his plump, shining lips.
Elias’ typical, million-dollar smirk is back on his face, but there’s something more sinister behind it—your legs would’ve buckled if he weren’t holding them.
“You’re a whore, jus’ like I said y’were.” His southern drawl makes your stomach twist in knots, despite the familiarity. Before you could get a word out, Elias placed you onto his face.
You mewl at the feeling of his tongue swirling around anywhere, and everywhere.
Your clit, your lips—it was almost as if he were starving.
There was no rhythm, no harmony and contentment, just the actions of a man on a mission.
A mission to make you scream louder than the birds on your farm.
Then, abruptly, Elias leaves a small, yet firm slap to your clit. “Admit it,” he says between licks. “Admit that you’re a whore.” He leaves another slap.
You don’t respond, too caught up in both the pain and pleasure. Your head hangs back and your eyes are clenched shut, and Elias grows impatient.
He removes his mouth from you with a ‘pop’ and almost snarls at you, “Thought I told ya Ion like repeatin’ myself.” He slaps your clit again, this time with more force.
“Okay—Okay! I was bein’ a whore tonight, ‘m sorry!” You cry out as your back arches.
Elias starts to lower you towards his grinning face, and you shiver at the feeling of his cold grillz.
Instead of teasing kitten-licks, Elias sucks at your slit and lets his tongue roam freely, without a care in the world. You writhe and whine on top of him, your body bending back and creating a dull aching sensation.
His advances are relentless, and you have no chances of escaping his grasp; he readjusts his grip as soon as he feels you start to slip away from him. You don’t know whether to clench around his tongue as he fucks you with it, or to cry–you end up doing both, and this continues on for who knows how long.
You’ve stopped counting the number of orgasms you’ve had after the second one–you think–but you think Elias has been keeping track. He’s muttered ‘jus’ one more, sugar’ maybe three times now, and you don’t know how many you have left in you at this point.
After what feels like hours, Elias finally lifts your hips up, allowing you to slide down and straddle his hips with your head resting upon his chest.
The beating sound of his steady heart fills your ear, and you try to match your breathing with Elias’. You feel a vibration as he shakes with laughter. You slightly drag your head up just enough to peek at his face, and he looks down at you with amusement.
“We ain’t done, not yet, peach,” he chuckles breathily at the wave of surprise that washes over your face.
You fumble with your words, “What d’ya mean? ‘L-Lias, I-I’m spent!” You continue to tremble in his arms.
“Y’still talkin’, ain’t ya, sugar?” He scoffs, it’s antagonizing. And before you can utter anything else, Elias flips you around onto the table, so you now lay with your back on the wood once again. Your dress rides down a tad at the sudden movement, and Elias holds your back, lifting you so that he can push your dress up past your breasts.
Elias lowers your back, before leaning peck your nipples. You bite your lip, but quickly let out a moan once he blows air onto your nipples, watching almost menacingly as they harden. One hand tweaks one of your nipples, as the other drags down your rib cage.
His hot, glistening tongue swishes around your tits, as he leaves sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to your skin.
He sucks harshly as you whimper beneath him. One of his hands leaves your body and goes down to his slacks, he unbuttons them with ease without even looking, as he continues to leave hickies on your chest.
He untucks himself from his underwear, and you can’t help but buck towards his cock in anticipation.
“Easy, girl. You’ll get it when ya prove y’deserve it,” Elias mocks, you whine in response.
“I deserve it, more than anybody else–y’know that, ‘Lias,” You plead in hopes of him giving you what you want.
“That right, baby? All this yours, nobody else's?” He challenges, starting to stroke his length.
You squeeze your eyelids together, almost as if you were personally pained by the question.
“Damn right,” You huff as you look at him with a sudden wave of fire blazing through your eyes. Elias scoffs with a mixture of incredulity and mirth.
“Yeah, baby–always been yours. Glad ya finally came to y’senses.” And with that, Elias pushes inside of you, and you let out a broken gasp.
Elias quickly finds his pace as he thrusts in and out of you rapidly. He nearly pulls entirely out of your dripping cunt–and you think he’s going to tease you again, but he then slams back into you roughly, making you cry out as your back arches into him.
You’re now chest-to-chest with Elias as he continues to pump into you with little regard to your overstimulation. The contact of skin makes your toes curl in your heels. Elias grunts at the feeling of you clamping down on his cock and bites forcibly at the flesh of your neck.
Elias groans–almost as if fucking you were the key to heaven’s gates. He takes his large palm and pushes it down onto your torso, making your sweating body meet the barely-covered, rumbling wood.
You weep helplessly and squirm as he keeps you pressed against the shaking table.
“Mmnf–”Lias! Please!” You cry yet again, but without knowing the reason behind it this time.
He doesn’t respond to your watery blabbering, instead putting your legs on either side of his shoulders. Elias slowly–and almost lovingly–kisses your ankle, before unclasping the latch of your heel and sliding it off of your foot, letting it hit the floor with a thump that neither of you seem to catch through the sounds of your bodies meeting.
You two damn-near become one.
He repeats his actions on your other leg, but this time he kisses from your calf to your ankle before removing your heel and letting it meet the ground with your matching one.
His hand grips at the ankle he just kissed, using it as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded; like an anchor. He then sucks and nips at your leg, quickly marking just above your ankle with a red bruise, which you know will be purple by the time the sun rises for morning.
You hiss when he bites a little too roughly, and he shows his sympathy by licking at the irritated skin, soothing the tender ache.
“That feel good, darlin’? Tell “Lias how much y’love it, peach, c’mon,” Elias coos, lifting his shirt up so he can get a proper view of your sex.
You babble through sobs intelligibly, mewling something along the lines of ‘so so good, ‘Lias!’—at least that’s what Elias makes of it.
“Can’t hear ya, baby. Ya gotta–fuck! Ya gotta speak a ‘lil louder f’me, hm?” Elias manages to speak through his panting and groaning. You bawl, hot tears dripping from your cheeks down to your chin.
“It feels so good–oh god—‘Lias!” You shriek, not caring about the volume of your crying. “Please don’t stop! Please, please, please–” You ramble with a slur.
If Elias ever felt guilty at the way he man-handling you, seeing your fucked-out expression made all his worries wash away at the sight of you: tongue hanging out, as your tears dribble into your open mouth.
Your panting grows more frantic, little ‘uh-uh-uh’s being let out more frequently as you feel another orgasm course through your veins. “‘Lias—cummin’! S-sh-it, I-I’m cummin’!”
Elias firmly plants his feet on the floor, repositioning the arm on your stomach onto your other leg so that he can fuck you even deeper–deep enough to create a slight bulge in your stomach with his throbbing tip. “Yeah, that’s it. Fall apart on this dick, y’know y’want to, sugar. Been dreamin’ ‘bout it f’years, huh?” He taunts.
You try to answer him, honestly! But he’s hitting your cervix just right and his abs rub against the backs of your thighs–it’s too much.
Elias thought you’ve learned by now that he doesn’t take silence for an answer, so to remind you, he gives your spent cunt a more forceful slap than before.
“Fuck—Yes! A-always been wantin’ you, ‘Lias,” you wail. “I-I never let nobody touch me! Nobody but you!” You exclaim without thinking.
This fuels Elias to quicken his pace; he almost fucking growls at your words, and he tightens your legs around himself–right now, as he feels himself getting closer and closer to climaxing, he has no plans on pulling out.
He continues to heave words of encouragement as fucks you ruthlessly through your orgasm.
You moan and blabber as your vision turns white, and your ears start to ring. Your toes curl and flex, and your nails scratch at the table, hands desperate for something to hold. Your voice then gives out, as your tongue lolls out of your mouth yet again.
Elias gives you a few more earth-stattering thrusts, before his seed fills your puffy, aching hole; the guttural groan that leaves his throat ups in pitch–nearly turning into a whimper.
He pumps his cum into you once more, before releasing your legs from his grip and laying down on top of you. As he half-lays-half-stands against the table, he feels as if a cold bucket of water was dumped onto him.
He can no longer focus on the tingling feeling that shoots from his skull to his toes, but now on the fact that he was the first man you’ve been with.
You spent your first time with him–in a rickety building he bought from a Klan member, on an even dingier table.
Elias then taps your face, just enough to get you to come back to your senses. You open your eyes with a lazy grin at the feeling of his seed mixed with yours, but when you’re met with his panicky expression, you quickly push yourself up–to the best of your ability.
“What? Wha’s wrong, ‘Lias?” You question worrisomely.
He allows himself to catch his breath before speaking, “Y’serious?” It’s all that he says.
You furrow your brows and tilt your head at him, “Bout what? Y’scarin’ me, Elias,” you chuckle awkwardly.
Had you said something you shouldn’t have?
A million thoughts run rampant throughout your mind.
“‘Bout all this,” he flails his hand, motioning to where your bodies had just met. “Was that really ya first time?” He speaks loudly, and you feel mortified.
Your breath catches in your throat. You confirm his worries, your voice softer than a freshly picked feather, “Yes.”
Elias takes a step back, and it takes everything in you not to reach out for him. Instead, you sit up fully and push your dress back down to your thighs. You twiddle your thumbs idly, seeking for even an ounce of comfort as Elias pushes his shirt back down and tucks himself back into his boxers after wiping himself off with a rag. Despite his glowering, he hands you a rag so that you can wipe away the slick from between your thighs.
Did he regret spending the night with you? Did he find the fact that you remained a virgin because of him embarrassing?
“Why you ain’t tell me, girl?” He exclaims, “I wouldn’t have said and done all that foolishness if I knew you ain't never been with a man before!”
You feel your soul come back into your body. “You would’ve been all sweet with me? That whatcha sayin’, ‘Lias?” You can’t help but giggle.
“Ain’t nothin’ funny, woman! I was all rough with you ‘n–” You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him closer to you. You fold your arms around his neck, and you feel his hands drift down to your waist and squeeze lightly. Your nose nudges his, his breath fans your face as yours does his.
You break the kiss when you feel yourself losing your breath, and you gaze at Elias lovingly.
“You were perfect, I couldn’t imagine it any other way,” you whisper.
“Well for starters, could've gotten you a bed in the house ‘stead of a table in this dark ass room,” Elias grumbles.
You grin, “I think the lightin’ was just fine. Added ambience ‘n all that.” Elias pouts, and you peck his lips.
“I don’t care ‘bout the details, “Lias. Long as it was with you.” Your tone is as sweet as the finest honey in Clarksdale, and it pulls on Elias’ heartstrings.
“Y’really waited all these years….For me?” He whispers.
“Course I did, couldn’t imagine bein’ with anybody else.” You speak just as softly. You recognize the guilt that crosses his face, despite his best efforts to mask it with his bravado. “Don’t feel guilty, please. I don’t blame you for nun.” You caress his hair. Silence fills the room as Elias deciphers what to say, you just hold him tenderly until he’s ready.
“I-I love ya, more than y’know, sugar…” He trails off before finishing his sentence, “I jus’ want ya to know that. I have since we was young.” He looks at you with adoration and love in his eyes.
“I love you too, Elias Moore. Have since you stood up to my daddy on his farm f’me when we was seven.”
He smiles, but it’s tight lipped, making you frown. “Jus’ wish I could’ve admitted it sooner. Then this would’ve went down differently—would’ve been better.” He sulks.
You take your thumb and index finger and pluck his lips, making him shout ‘hey!’ with a laugh.
“Stop beatin’ y’self up, Elias. I told you, I’m perfectly happy here, right now. Ain’t nun gon’ change that a bit.” You scold him.
“If ya stop all that moppin’, I’ll let ya try again tomorrow, however y’want,” you giggle mischievously. Elias’ eyes light up almost immediately, the way he perks up reminds you of a puppy that was just given a treat.
Elias roars with laughter and squeezes you, before lowering you back down onto the table, he presses nearly all of his weight onto you.
You squeal and cackle as he tickles your sides, “‘Lias!”
You lay wrapped up with Elias, you felt as if you could lay there forever, and honestly in this moment, you wanted to.
Clarity and revelations do the body good.
Everything was good.
Until you heard a commotion on the other side of the door.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
midniqhtt · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ᯓ ⚡︎ robert ‘bob’ reynolds
masterlist • marvel • 06/09/25
˚‧⁺ ・ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs II gif credit - @/castledevil
here are some bob reynolds stories i’ve read, loved, and reblogged. all the admiration for the writers who share their talent so generously. please be sure to read the warnings on each fic. and if you enjoy them, let the author know by a comment, reblog, or both! ♡
Tumblr media
⭑.ᐟ xerox pt2 pt3 I @ichorai
you had one last job before you were free. no more splitting, no more deaths. unfortunately, that job seemed to rope in four other assassins and a... a man in hospital-wear?
⭑.ᐟ the fling I @sacredsorceress
bob finds out that you had a one night stand with bucky a few years earlier and feelings bubble to the surface.
⭑.ᐟ therapy I @/sacredsorceress
⭑.ᐟ mocha I @/sacredsorceress
yelena decides to make it her mission to set up bob with her close friend.
⭑.ᐟ lifeline I @/sacredsorceress
When you sleep, the Void visits you. This time, you can't hold your worries in and Bob is there to save the day.
⭑.ᐟ let go I @sunskisser
bob avoided you, and you had no idea why — till the night you help him out of a frenzy.
⭑.ᐟ the woes of bowties and missing puzzle pieces I @websterss
One day Bob having a rough day and void jumps out, creating quite a chaos. She tries to talk him through it but void being void thinking she’s a liability for them, he “consumed” her. Few moments after that he turns back into Bob & other people came back from void but not her.
⭑.ᐟ the hand that’s forced pt2 I @/websterss
You hadn't meant to get attached to Bob, much less fall in love with him. You hadn't meant for things to slip out right from underneath your grasp. Out of your control, much like Valentina holding your love for one another over your heads.
⭑.ᐟ i see you I @cocastyle
⭑.ᐟ sneaking around I @callsign-swan
Bob doesn't mean to be sneaking around. But he can't help it. He's got a secret, and he wants to keep it that way. Too bad he's best friends with Yelena Belova.
⭑.ᐟ alone together I @/callsign-swan
For the last few years, Tony's daughter has been living out in the tower basement. She doesn't realise when Valentina buys the tower, not until she's being choked out by Sentry (turns out Sentry is a really sweet guy called Bob, who knew?)
⭑.ᐟ picnic day I @roanofarcc
when rain threatens a thunderbolts team bonding outing, per the request of Alexei, they turn to their resident weather-controlling team member to save their plans. 
⭑.ᐟ a bunch of teenagers I @mallory524
Bob has really started to like you, but he assumes you don’t feel the same way about him. You do though, and everyone seems to know that except Bob… and apparently also Walker, who really thought he had a chance
⭑.ᐟ going out I @/mallory524
You and Bob finally spend some time together one morning, but you find yourself rushing to defend him when he gets overwhelmed and people aren’t kind to him.
⭑.ᐟ in my arms I @woantohae
The Thunderbolts are constantly on missions, busy trying to do good and save whoever they can. One of them was Bob Reynolds, the defenseless yet powerful man who is part of this team and family. However, he doesn't participate in these missions so he can continue practicing controlling his powers. Despite telling them he's capable, the team prefers to give him more time to get used to them, until one mission, when a member of the team is injured. And all Bob can think about is the fury he feels when he hears Y/N being hurt. And how much he wants revenge on whoever did it.
⭑.ᐟ shadow I @/woantohae
Y/N loved the darkness because she could see the stars better. Void does everything in his power to make sure she can gaze at the starry sky, even if it means turning everything into darkness.
⭑.ᐟ only you I @/woantohae
Bob's dark, evil entity, The Void, appears when you least expect it. The rest of the team must be prepared to confront him and his prevailing malice. However, there is only one person on the team with whom he has a soft spot. And it's her.
⭑.ᐟ like real people do I @froggibus
Bob seeks you out following a bad dream
⭑.ᐟ misunderstanding I @strkly
you and bob were inseparable. until he begins to ignore you and you have no clue why. when you’re injured after a mission gone wrong you’re finally able to find out why.
⭑.ᐟ darling I @fireinmoonshot
You always call Bob darling in private... until you accidentally slip up and use the nickname in front of the rest of the Thunderbolts.
⭑.ᐟ unreal I @/fireinmoonshot
Bob offers for you to share his room while your room in the Watch Tower gets renovated... there's just one problem – he didn't think about the fact that he'd have to share a bed with you.
⭑.ᐟ control I @/fireinmoonshot
Bob always waits for you to come back from missions, but when you don't come back one day, his powers start to get a little out of hand.
⭑.ᐟ lethal touch I @hearts4johnwick
while training, all goes well until a move bob makes changes your concentration as you begin to relive your worst memory.
⭑.ᐟ stay with me pt2 I @scarletmika
Bob wants to feel useful, to truly be part of the team, but the others don't think he's ready. You take it upon yourself to teach him control, to guide him through. But mistakes will be made, and it might not be possible to keep the darkness from creeping back in once more.
⭑.ᐟ destiny or not I @/scarletmika
As The Darkhold foretold Wanda Maximoff's destiny, The Book of Vishanti foretold your own. You just didn't know how much of that destiny was intertwined with Bob Reynolds, until the day you met him in the vault.
⭑.ᐟ peace and quiet I @/scarletmika
Sometimes the tower is too loud, and Bob can feel himself getting overwhelmed. He's always found comfort with you, in your room, where he can find peace and quiet whenever he needs it. And you'll never turn him away, finding the same comfort in him.
⭑.ᐟ request I @lovebugism
you like taking care of bob on his bad days. he isn't quite sure why
⭑.ᐟ stitches I @skeltnwrites
Bob learns how to stitch a wound
⭑.ᐟ plainclothes man pt2 I @em1i2a3
Everyone at the compound knows Bob has a massive crush on you–except you.
⭑.ᐟ carry the zero I @/em1i2a3
You and Bob are sharing a room while the Avengers Compound is under renovations, which brings on a slew of new things to learn about one another.
⭑.ᐟ cherry waves I @/em1i2a3
You’ve been sick for a few days, so while the rest of the team goes out to do a recon mission, you’re on your own watching over Bob. One morning he comes to your room with a weird request.
⭑.ᐟ sailor song pt2 pt3 I @/em1i2a3
Bob is in love with you, but you can’t be what he wants.
⭑.ᐟ i wanna get lost with you I @/em1i2a3
After a rough night, you find yourself with a rare day off–the one that you take on the same day every year in memoriam for the fallen. So you head into the city to spend your feelings away on the only thing that makes sense to you: gifts for your favourite team of scrappy anti-heros…And Bob.
⭑.ᐟ it’s you i’m thinking of I @/em1i2a3
Valentina organizes a PR event for the Thunderbolts and during the event Bob realizes that he may want more out of life than just saving the world.
⭑.ᐟ signs I @/em1i2a3
You haven’t been able to sleep for the past four days, you’ve tried everything in the book, but tonight Bob has come to your room to offer you some help.
⭑.ᐟ the greatest light is the greatest shade I @/em1i2a3
You return back to the compound a week early from an initial two week-long mission, only to find Bob asleep in your bed.
⭑.ᐟ test drive pt2 I @/em1i2a3
You have a late night encounter with The Void
⭑.ᐟ a little bit of jam I @violetrainbow412-blog
⭑.ᐟ archives room I @owastie
you’re tasked with searching through the archives room to find some information on a new threat
⭑.ᐟ oh, scaling all your shadows I @swordgrace
plagued by nightmares, bob takes comfort in the one person who’s pulled him from the shadows time and time again — you.
⭑.ᐟ so high school I @pagesfromthevoid
⭑.ᐟ walk through darkness I @/pagesfromthevoid
⭑.ᐟ unfamiliar feeling I @ang3ltine
Bob was asleep for God knows how long, now that he has the chance at a better life. Who better to show him than you?
⭑.ᐟ admiration I @/ang3ltine
Being recruited by Valentina as part of the new Avengers (z) team was never part of your list of agendas. Yet here you were, doting on an awkward brunette.
⭑.ᐟ look what the cat dragged in I @eyelessfaces
you get bob a cat for emotional support; the cat adopts you as parents and is undeniably bound to bring the two of you closer.
⭑.ᐟ how to kiss I @worstghost
teaching bob how to kiss and accidentally slipping into a 20 minute makeout session
⭑.ᐟ the good side I @cosmictheo
bob loves you so much that he slowly begins to transform into a house-husband for you. and he loves it.
⭑.ᐟ heavenly I @/cosmictheo
it's the first time you're wearing your new suit as an official (new) avenger and bob is a little too excited about it.
⭑.ᐟ fur-evermore I @ofstarsandvibranium
Because you're Bucky's assistant, you, and your service dog, Juniper, head to the tower to give him some files as well as meet the rest of his new team...including a very cute and slightly awkward, Bob.
⭑.ᐟ mr. oblivious I @/ofstarsandvibranium
Bob is sometimes oblivious to the fact that people find him attractive and/or like him. One of those people includes you.
⭑.ᐟ i dream of you even when awake I @deakyjoe
Your gift makes sleep difficult. Luckily, Bob is there to guide you through it.
⭑.ᐟ something special I @blank-potato
You’ve been the live-in doctor at Avengers Tower for a year, and Bob wants to get you something special to celebrate. Unbeknownst to him, that something special turns out to be a sex plant. 
⭑.ᐟ loving you is easy pt2 I @/blank-potato
You and Bob are indifferent to each other, never seeming to mesh. But when you lose your memory, something new blooms between the two of you.
⭑.ᐟ drabble I @undyingdecay
⭑.ᐟ peace in the darkness pt2 I @theonewiththefanfics
Bob knows Y/N isn't one to go back on her words. So when she doesn't show up to go through with their plans, he starts to worry. Luckily for him, Yelena knows how to break-and-enter. And doesn't mind invading her personal space.
⭑.ᐟ the ghost i left behind pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 I @brookghaib-blog
Y/N and Bob had a life before he disappear, full of love, hope, and a lot of chaos, but they managed each other, she was the only one who truly could make him avoid the void inside his mind. How could he turn his only light into a shadow in his mind ?
⭑.ᐟ a pleasant inconvenience I @little-miss-dilf-lover
your cat likes to run out of your apartment when you return home. today she makes it further than usual but is luckily stopped by a stranger.
⭑.ᐟ run hot I @moon-fics
The heating in the tower has broken in the middle of winter. This leaves everyone trying to find warmth any way possible.
⭑.ᐟ accident I @upl0aded
you and bob had always been perfect, you kept him happy and he kept you satisfied. but what happens when a buried memory accidentally gets revived?
⭑.ᐟ truth will set you free I @sergeantbuckybarnes
You are injected with a truth serum during a mission, and when you return to the Watchtower, you must avoid Bob in order not to spill your feelings for him, but this causes Bob to believe he has done something to upset you.
⭑.ᐟ gladiator I @trainer-from-unova
welcome to the party, say hi to everybody. you're valentina's daughter and you're late to the party in honour of her new puppet.
⭑.ᐟ i can’t have what i want (but neither can you) I @honeyatsu
You don't know how to explain the feeling when you see Bob and Yelena together. You don't understand it, and you don't like it. You think maybe you're not a people person, maybe you're better off being on your own. You take matters to solve this problem your own way, but everyone doesn't agree with your logic.
⭑.ᐟ i like it better I @sl-ut
every member of the thunderbolts* are struggling with having friends for the first time in… ever, for the most part. the team is shocked to find out that, for some reason, bob is having the easiest time with it. aka, four times the team notices a budding romance, and one time they all realize they’re late to the conclusion.
⭑.ᐟ the complete knock pt2 I @sunsburns
you’re only here to try and understand why bucky’s suddenly gone off the rails and joined a new team, leaving you, sam and joaquín in radio silence. the last thing you expected was to find comfort in a stranger. a kind stranger named bob.
⭑.ᐟ second nature I @bruisedboys
bob tells you he’s never been kissed. you decide to change that.
⭑.ᐟ request I @gay-dorito-dust
⭑.ᐟ charcoal smudges I @cryptidcasanova
Bob thinks he's in control. At least…until you get involved. 
⭑.ᐟ short circuit I @honeybadgerwritings
Bob helps Y/N train to control her powers under pressure. But when frustration gets the better of her, their sparring session turns tense.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 4 months ago
Text
popularity contest | alex albon social media au
pairing: alex albon x fem doohan!reader
jack is struggling with making friends in formula one, good thing he’s got an annoyingly popular sister and a reluctantly friendly brother in law.
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
f1
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,209,778 others
f1: for the first time ever, we have in-laws on the grid! jack doohan makes his full debut for alpine alongside his brother in law alex albon, who is married to y/n doohan, one of australia's biggest business women!
view all comments
user1: not for long
user2: for real admin is being a little bit optimistic here
user3: the way franco was last season, i think he’d also like to take y/n off of alex’s hands too
user4: omggggg can you people let us have anything
yourusername: proudest big sister ever
yourusername: and wife i guess
yourusername: alex has been doing this long enough he can wait for the praise
alexalbon: i’ll let him get away with it this once just because it’s his debut
jackdoohan: you’re soooooooo generous alex!
alexalbon: i know this is sarcasm but i’m choosing to ignore that
user5: i’m not reading all of that - don’t care - bring back franco
user6: true i need his cute face back on the grid
alexalbon: never disrespect those doohan genes again
jackdoohan: i knew you believed in me alex
alexalbon: you’ll kill it dude, but i was referring to the fact that i am hopelessly in love with your sister
yourusername: doohan face card never declines
jackdoohan: 💅
user7: i’m so glad jack will have his sister in the paddock and alex, his entry to f1 hasn’t been the kindest
user8: alex is such a beloved personality in the paddock as well so hopefully that’ll help jack make friends
user9: i know y/n has been bugging alex about taking jack to the padel dates
yourusername: ho are you in my walls
user10: flavio briatore if you tear my family apart you will be hearing from my lawyers
user11: i’ll be needing a lawyer after my actions
user12: we need him to ban him again
Tumblr media
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by alexalbon, pierregasly and 892,046 others
tagged: jackdoohan
yourusername: baby brother is a formula one driver! words can’t express how proud i am watching him zip around albert park.
view all comments
user13: nothing you people (alpine) can do will ruin this moment for me
user14: her literally crying in the alpine garage with their dad watching him was so cute eventhough sky insisted on yammering on about franco the whole time
user15: i can’t wait for jack to prove them all wrong
liked by yourusername
jackdoohan: it felt 100x better knowing you guys were there too
yourusername: we wouldn’t miss it for the world
yourusername: that includes alex
jackdoohan: he’s contractually obligated to be here
alexalbon: doesn’t mean i’m any less proud!
yourusername: oh great, now i’m crying again
user16: yeah this is cute and all, but am i the only one getting annoyed at her shading franco constantly
user17: yes there’s literally no reason she needs to be liking those kind of comments
yourusername: chat is it illegal to be excited for and protect my brother?
user18: you can keep franco’s name out of your mouth to do so
yourusername: i’ve never said a bad word about franco, so watch your tone, especially when he hasn’t been the most respectful towards my relationship himself.
user19: omg why is she spilling the tea when it’s 3am in europe 😭
oscarpiastri: two aussies on track at albert park - we love to see it
oscarpiastri: but now i’m thinking about it, why aren’t i sponsored by doohan me?
yourusername: girly i think you have enough sponsors already
jackdoohan: this is the greed they wrote about in the bible…
user20: so jack is a nepo nepo baby?
yourusername: tell me you don’t love your brother without telling me you don’t love your brother
user21: also she literally sponsors alex as well… why wouldn’t she help out the people she loves when she owns the biggest apparel and makeup companies in australia…
alexalbon: i’m chopped liver this weekend…
yourusername: you can be second for one weekend
alexalbon: fine… i’ll hold you to that
yourusername: and i’ll hold you too
alexalbon: oh hehehehehe
georgerussell63: loser
alexalbon
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 672,099 others
tagged: yourusername & jackdoohan
alexalbon: p6? and Q2 for jack? i guess you could say we're doohan okay :P
view all comments
user22: doohan/albon family you are so precious to me
user23: this post got me crying in the club at 6am
user24: the way jack RAN to alex in parc ferme was so so so cute i can’t
yourusername: it’s sweat in my eyes i SWEAR
alexalbon: okay baby, we believe you
jackdoohan: i always knew i was your favourite brother
yourusername: you’re the only one?
jackdoohan: omg p1
alexalbon: a win is a win
user25: jack being second of all the rookies is just what he needed this weekend !!!
user26: babe is not playing around
georgerussell63: get in there alex!!!
georgerussell63: but please stay away from my car tomorrow
yourusername: i know this man ain’t talking
georgerussell63: i’m not engaging with this
yourusername: … pussy
alexalbon: when your wife and friend get along
georgerussell63: eh hem * best friend
alexalbon: slow your roll there buddy
georgerussell63: who could possibly be your best friend - and don’t say y/n because that doesn’t count
alexalbon: jack is right there
georgerussell63: i’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that
alexalbon: well the rest of you have hardly made him feel welcome have you?
user27: omg alex is out here gagging the girls
user28: and he ate!
user29: i mean alex was lucky having george and lando when he made his debut, jack has the other rookies but i’ve got the sense he’s been made a bit of an outsider
user30: this whole situation is so sad i’m not going to lie - i’m glad alex is clearly there for him and that y/n goes to like 90% of the races
danielricciardo: flying the aussie flags high boys, proud of you!
jackdoohan: thank you daniel :))))))))
alexalbon: the thai flag is right there… but i’ll take it dude! see you for dinner tomorrow xx
yourusername: we’ll see if we can kidnap oscar and make it a full on aussie affair
alexalbon: i am not aussie !!!
yourusernamel: yes you are
alexalbon: yes i am
user31: how all husbands should be ^^^
Tumblr media
f1newsandgossip
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by user42, user50 and 11,045 others
f1newsandgossip: it’s being reported that both alex albon and max verstappen called a grid meeting to call out the exclusion of jack doohan. insiders state it got extremely heated, with alex albon not holding back.
view all comments
user31: i mean…. i have to agree with alex like that dinner was unnecessarily cruel
user32: it’s SO strange that they managed to invite all of the other rookies but not him
user33: if it’s not cruel it’s extremely negligent from the grid
user34: hey wasn’t george on some anti-bully tirade at the end of last season? what happened to that…
user35: he’s the head of the GDPA and likely was the one to organise this meal - he should know better
user36: if george did organise it and alex was as incensed as they say, it was BAD bad
user37: max standing up for jack is so needed thank you
user38: i mean we all know how max was treated as a rookie…
user39: and he was super chatty with jack at the photoshoot so at least he’s tried
user40: more than what some could say
user41: i think it’s crazy that the grid haven’t made an effort with jack considering they are constantly licking y/n’s ass trying to ride her coat tails
user42: SO TRUE
user43: they like the doohans so much that they’ll constantly use and wear her products, making sure to tag her but they can’t invite her brother to dinner?
user44: anyone seen those pictures kym illman posted of y/n on the phone in the paddock?
user45: baby was PISSED
user46: rightly so tbf
user47: the fact that both her and her dad ignored sky this morning >>>
user48: i mean, as they should, all they do is talk about franco when jack is on screen
user49: alex and jack coming in together this morning, both wearing doohan me merch …. kings
user50: the only positive from this meeting/ idk fight is the fact that a load of drivers flocked to alpine
user52: charles bringing leo ???
user53: took too long, but i’m glad they pulled their heads out of their asses
f1
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and 2,945,300 others
tagged: jackdoohan
f1: aussies… are you doohan good? jack doohan scored points on his full debut at home, picking up a p9 finish. we don’t think anyone was happier than his sister, but brother in law alex albon was pretty pleased too…
view all comments
user54: flavio briatore… come outside… i just want to talk
user55: aussies we be smoking on that briatore pack tonight
user56: y/n’s smug smile at him in the garage was ALL of us
oscarpiastri: aussie aussie aussie
jackdoohan: oi oi oi
oscarpiastri: stoked for you dude honestly
jackdoohan: much appreciated - congrats on the podium!
user57: my aussie boys !!!!!!!!!!
user58: alex holding jack while he cried is the moment of the season already i don’t think we’ll top it
user59: i need it tattooed on the inside of my eyelids for real
user60: the other drivers all coming to congratulate him - better late than never
user61: i honestly think alex was happier for alex than himself even though he got fourth
user62: that’s family right there
yourusername: jack doohan world dominance would bore no one
yourusername: but on a real note, unbelievably proud of you baby brother
jackdoohan: would never have happened without you - i love you <3
alexalbon: nothing but love for my favourite brother in law!
alexalbon: there’s been a lot of chat about him but jack is the real deal
yourusername: my two favourite boys, i love you guys and i’m so proud
user63: jack getting points at home is such poetic justice
user64: i need him to know we love him
user65: i mean other than oscar’s podium his points was defo the biggest cheer of the weekend!
alpinef1: it’s just what he does 🤩
yourusername: and what he’ll continue to do…
user66: the way this is an actual threat LOL
Tumblr media
jackdoohan
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 348,208 others
tagged: alexalbon & yourusername
jackdoohan: this weekend has been everything and more for me. to get my first points at home, means the world, and to be supported by my favourite people in the world made it all the more sweeter. y/n, these points are for you, thank you for always supporting me and alex, thank you for being there for me - it’s been lonely but you’ve welcomed me as best as you could. here’s to the rest of the season!
view all comments
user66: i am NOT crying
user67: thank the lord for alex albon!
user68: my shaylas
liked by yourusername
maxverstappen1: congratulations jack, the first points of many!
jackdoohan: thank you max, maybe i’ll be able to get close enough to race you personally…
maxverstappen1: hopefully it’s for podiums…
lewishamilton: well in jack! congratulations!
charles_leclerc: congratulations on your first points jack :D
user69: looks like a stern talking to by alex albon works a plenty
user70: we love to see it
alexalbon: mr jack, there’s nothing me or your sister wouldn’t do for you - never hesitate to reach out. we’re so proud of you and will be here for you every step of the way!
yourusername: what he said
yourusername: i love you baby brother and i’m so so proud. i won’t stop saying it until i die
jackdoohan: i love you guys so much
yourusername: also @alexalbon you’re the best husband in the world, looking out for jack. you’re the most amazing man in the world xx
alexalbon: i’d do anything for you and for jack. i love you and i wake up thankful everyday that you decided that i’m worth marrying
yourusername: there’s no one else in the world worth marrying xx
landonorris: @jackdoohan how are you so chill about them professing their love under your congratulations post?
jackdoohan: i love them and i love that they love each other?
user71: i need a relationship like y/n and alex
user72: i need siblings like them omg
isackhadjar: you slayed jack!
kimiantonelli: 🔥
user73: why are we all fawning over the drivers in being in the comment section? it’s clear alex just guilted them into doing it
user74: for real, f1 isn’t a popularity contest it’s about winning
yourusername: jack doesn’t have to be popular, but he will be respected
alexalbon: and if anyone is ‘guilted’ into being a nice person, that’s their issue
jackdoohan: :3
fin.
note: she's back? she's also been up since 3am to watch the f2 so enjoy my sleep deprived fuelled love for alex (let's go p6????) and jack (because seriously, give him a shot god damn)!!!
2K notes · View notes
skeltnwrites · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
At Least It’s Not the End of the World ♡
After protecting the kids from demodogs and sentient tunnel vines with Steve, a weekend babysitting Holly Wheeler together is supposed to be simple. That is until feelings neither of you expected start to make things way more complicated.
gn!reader, takes place in between seasons two and three, people who fight monsters together to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff 16k
── .✦
It doesn’t take long to remember why Holly is your favorite Wheeler. She’s patient and sweet, amazingly level-headed for a preschooler, and her manners could put some adults to shame. Compared to her siblings, Holly’s a little sweetheart. And a mama’s girl through and through, clinging to Mrs. Wheeler more often than not. 
Like now, she wriggles in her mom’s lap, scrunched over a coloring book at the dinner table. She squints at her box of crayons and purses her lips— choosing colors is hard when you’re five. She hasn’t said a peep since you arrived, but in the foyer, she greeted you with a clumsy wave and a sheepish smile. 
“It would be Friday afternoon to Monday morning,” Mrs. Wheeler explains, stirring a glass of lemonade with a curly straw. “I’d ask Nance but she’s having a girl's weekend.” 
You glance at Steve. You know girl’s weekend is code for spending the night with Jonathan Byers. But if he knows it too, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t so much as bat an eye at her words. In fact, he’s relaxed under Mrs. Wheeler’s gaze. He’s sitting in a chair he’s sat in dozens of times before, talking to a woman he sees more frequently than his own mother. 
You don’t know her as well as he does, but you aren’t strangers by any means. 
“And Mike, well, he’s not old enough to watch her for that long. But he’ll be staying over at Joyce’s so you don’t have to worry about him,” she pauses to sip her drink. “I’d pay you, of course. I don’t know what your schedules look like— I know you’re probably busy with the new job, Steve— but I figured since it’s a few days, I’d offer it to you both.” 
Steve flashes an honest smile and leans forward. “Are you kidding? I’d hang with this squirt for free. I’m actually off this weekend so it works out.” 
Mrs. Wheeler beams, eyes springing to yours. 
“Yeah, I could help too,” you shrug. You also happen to be free this weekend and the extra cash would be nice. 
“Great! You both are so lovely. Oh, I was so worried, I kept telling Ted– well, it doesn’t matter now.” Her bracelets clink and clash as she reaches across the table to cover your hand with hers. “You’ll have to keep an eye on these two. She becomes quite the riot when her Stevie comes over.” 
Steve chuckles and raises his hands in defense. “She owes me a rematch at Candyland so I can’t promise anything.” 
Mrs. Wheeler’s fingers retract from yours, landing on the end of Holly’s pigtail. “She’s really missed having you over. Asks about you still.” 
Holly ducks her nose into her paper, pink traveling up her ears. 
“Is that right?” Steve teases. “I’ll have to swing by more often.” 
“Please. You’re welcome anytime, Steve. Whether Nancy’s here or not.” Her attention drifts to you. “And the same goes for you. Mike won’t stop talking about that comic book you gave him.” 
A smug grin surfaces. Out of all of the kids, Mike is a tough one to please. 
“I’ve never been away from Holly for so long. But I trust you guys.” Mrs. Wheeler pecks Holly’s crown to hide a wobbly smile, her sentence spilling out in a breathy string of words.
She really does trust you both. It would take another set of hands to count the number of times either you or Steve had driven her kids home safely. This is just different. She loves all of her kids equally, but Holly’s her baby. 
Holly’s eyes cast up at her mention, bright as a sunlit gem. 
Mrs. Wheeler smooths her daughter’s sleeves down her shoulders. “But Holly’s a good girl. Right, Hollybear?” 
She turns to bury a toothy smile in her mother’s shirt. 
Mrs. Wheeler is meticulous as she presents each and every detail of Holly’s routine. From car seat safety to emergency contacts to allergies, she covers every question you might have before you have it. 
Steve’s a good listener but he’s cursed with a very short attention span. Mrs. Wheeler lost him somewhere around Holly’s sudden aversion to mac and cheese, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You’ll fill in the gaps for him later. 
This won’t be the first time you’ve babysat with Steve. Dustin roped you both into hunting his pet lizard-turned-alien which very quickly escalated to protecting four children from not one, but several, vicious aliens. Safe to say you two are experienced enough to handle one kid for a couple of nights. 
You haven’t seen Steve much since then. It’s summer now. The demodogs and sentient tunnel vines feel much more like a dream than something that actually happened to you these days. Steve works at the Scoops in Starcourt, or so you’ve heard several times– Dustin only reminds you about every time you see him. But despite being as close to death as you’ve ever been beside Steve, visiting him at work feels strangely wrong. Like crossing a line that neither of you ever drew. 
You would not consider Steve Harrington your friend. You’re friendly, as you might be with a neighbor or coworker, but you don’t talk much outside of ​​world-ending, portal-to-another-dimension kind of events. He’s family in a weird sort of way, bound by the shared trauma and unspoken loyalty— like someone you only see at family reunions, familiar enough to care about but still a stranger in most ways. High school was a long blur and your circle of friends couldn’t have been farther from his. So you don’t know Steve, not really. But of what little pieces of him you have come to know in the last year, he’s not half bad at babysitting.
ᯓ★
On Friday afternoon, you park your car beside Steve’s shiny BMW in the Wheeler’s driveway. You take the house key that had been slipped from Mrs. Wheeler’s key ring to yours and unlock the front door. And you find that inside, it’s completely silent. Holly’s quiet as a mouse but she’s still a kid and kids make noise. 
Your bag drops onto the floor beside Steve’s shoes as you toe off your own. When the kitchen and living room turn up empty you jog upstairs. Alarm sinks in on the last step where you still hear nothing. No shouting, no laughing, no crying, no nothing. 
There’s a large window in the hall upstairs, dividing Nancy’s room from Mike's and Holly’s. In your panic, you miss the suspicious lumps in the drapes that frame it. 
As you brush by, Steve rips the curtain across the rod and shouts, “Ha! Gotch– Oh.” 
Your entire body jerks, fear cinching every nerve. “Christ! Steve!”
“Sorry, sorry!” 
Your nostrils flare with hot air as you shove him, “You scared me!” 
His open palms hover in between your chests, unsure how to help. “I thought you were Holly. Sorry.” He gives you an apologetic once-over before a breathy chuckle escapes. 
“It’s not funny. All the shit we’ve been through. God.” He’s lucky you didn’t punch him. A part of you still wants to. 
“Mommy says that’s not a nice word,” Holly says from behind you. 
You turn, shoulders sagging in relief. “I didn’t mean to say that. Sorry.” 
“Stevie, I was supposed to find you,” she whines incredulously, hands planted on her hips. 
“We can go again. I’ll find a new spot.” 
Her frown mends as quickly as it appeared and she skips back to her room to count. 
“Sorry,” Steve reminds you. “Help me find a spot to hide?” 
Soft eyes, a softer smile. It’s hard to stay mad when he looks at you like that. “Okay.” 
Twenty seconds isn’t very long to hide. Especially when Holly counts as fast as she does and when you spend half of your time standing in the hall. So you end up crouched in the corner of Mike’s closet, Steve arched over you, trying his hardest not to crush your toes. 
“Jesus. Does this kid even wash his clothes?” Steve whisper-shouts. “It smells like something died in here.” His palm snaps to the wall behind your head, the flesh of his arm warming your ear.
“You actually couldn’t have picked a worse place. Oh my God.” You press the neckline of your shirt over your nose. Steve’s wearing enough cologne to drown out the stench of dirty socks, though it’s choking you all the same. 
“We had like three seconds. I panicked!” 
You’re glaring at him but only a fraction of light filters in from underneath the door so you’d guess he doesn't see. 
The closet is the first place Holly checks when she barges into Mike’s room, but you’ve never been happier to be caught so fast. 
“My turn!” She glows in victory, pigtails swishing like yellow ribbons as she shouts. 
Steve huffs. “Let’s take a break. We’ve been playing for like an hour.” 
“Can we play tag?”
“In a little while. I’m tired.” He pinches her neck playfully until she squirms out of reach. “How’d you have all that energy?”
She shrugs with her whole body. “I dunno. I’m a kid.” 
A laugh bubbles out of your throat. When your eyes flit to Steve you find him already smiling at you. 
“What about something a little more chill,” you suggest. “We could color?” 
“Bracelets?” 
“You want to make some?” 
She nods, “I can’t reach them. The beads are on top of my closet.”  
“I’ll get ‘em,” Steve offers. “Come show me where.” 
You fan out her multitude of craft containers across the kitchen table. Beads, charms, strings, all neatly filed away. She pops open a lid and plunks down across from you. Steve takes the seat at the end in between. 
“What color bracelet are you gonna make?” you ask, raking through the rainbow of options. 
“Umm, yellow. No– green!” 
“Nice. Here’s a cute little frog charm. Want that?” 
“Mmmm. No, thank you.” 
“I’ll take it,” Steve says, stretching his hand toward you. 
You drop it in the center of his palm where it clinks against a handful of blue beads. They’re pretty and vibrant like the sea. A flicker of an idea pulls you to grab your own handful. 
Holly slides four beads onto a string, two lime green and two baby pink. She drags the other end up and they all slip off, bouncing in separate directions across the table. You smack one before it dives onto the floor and Steve catches another two mid-air. 
“Can you help me tie it?” Holly asks from under her chair, searching for the fourth. 
“Sure.” Steve swaps his bracelet for hers, triple knotting one end. “I like these colors.”
She resurfaces with a grin, voice lilting as she speaks, “Do you like purple?”
“Yeah, purple’s okay. Do you?” 
She nods, pinching a lilac gem and examining it. 
You slip into a peaceful rhythm. The bead bin rattles as Steve digs his fingers in. He murmurs something about sparkles as he shuffles. Every now and then, you peek up at him. And each time, you find that he’s fully absorbed in this, rubbing his chin or poking his tongue out in concentration. You’d even bet he’s having fun. 
“Can you tie it on me,” Holly asks when she finishes. 
Steve takes her hand gently, fingers engulfing her tinier ones. “This good?” He tugs the strings across each other at her permission, sealing it with an extra knot for good measure.  
Holly starts a second one as you finish your first. You hold it up triumphantly for them to see– red and blue beads between every white pearl. 
“Very patriotic,” Steve teases. 
“It’s for you. For scoops. These are the colors right?” 
He softens, eyes rounding like brown buttons. “Wait, really? Thank you. Wow.” He inspects it fondly where you release it in his palm. “Will you tie it?” His arm shoots over to your side of the table. 
You feel his gaze shift from the bracelet to your face as you lace it. And you pretend that it doesn’t make your cheeks burn. 
“You don’t have to wear it to Scoops if you don’t want to,” you mumble, releasing his wrist. 
“What? Of course, I’m wearing it. No one’s ever made me a bracelet before.” 
Your lips bend up into your cheeks as he leans back in his seat. He twists and turns his arm, looking it over again with a similar expression. “Now, it was supposed to be a surprise, but since I’m almost done, I actually made this for you.” He scoops up the piece he’s been working on and waves it in front of you. 
You cock an eyebrow and smirk. “You sure you didn’t just decide that since I gave you one.” 
“I didn’t! I was planning this the whole time! Right Holly, didn’t I say that?”
“No?” 
“Holly, come on now.” He elbows her arm. “Supposed to back me up.” 
“But you didn’t,” she giggles. 
“Holly doesn’t lie, Steve.” 
“Okay, I didn’t say it. But I thought it. I was gonna give it to you I swear.” He jams another couple of beads on his string. “See! Look, it has your favorite color on there.” 
“It has every color on there.” 
“One of which is your favorite.” 
You roll your eyes as he takes your wrist. His hands are warmer than yours, softer than you expect too. He stills as your palm flips face up. A jagged, fleshy ridge runs from the bottom of your pinky to the meat of your thumb. Steve was there when you got the scar. He’s never said it, but you know he blames himself for it. A demodog had you pinned in that damned junkyard school bus so Steve pushed you out of the way but you caught yourself on a broken window. 
“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
His head dips in a silent nod. He isn’t sure whether to believe you or not. Either way, he feels sorry still.
His bracelet is a statement piece for sure. It truly has every color under the sun and a random assortment of charms and shells. But it’s sweet that he gave it to you. Even if he totally did not plan to do so at first. 
He makes a second bracelet for Holly with purple string and butterfly pendants. Holly gives her next one to him as thanks, then begins on a third for you. 
Steve stands from the table. “I’m hungry. Grilled cheese okay for dinner Holly?” She nods as do you when he asks you the same. 
Your focus drifts between him and the necklace you’re starting for Holly. He coasts around the kitchen naturally, like you imagine he would in his own house. But it’s a bizarre sight. Steve Harrington cooking you food, in the Wheeler’s kitchen out of all places. 
And he’s about as good as a chef as you expect him to be. He’s clumsy and uncertain, even dropping a spatula on the floor with an, “Oh, shi–ugar…” But he kindly refuses to accept any help or advice when you offer. 
He eventually swings around the kitchen island, brimming with pride, one plate in each hand. They’re set in the space you’ve cleared and you quickly see that the sandwiches have been cut adorably into stars. You just as quickly see– and smell– how burnt they are. They aren’t black, they’re edible for sure. But Holly’s five, and polite as she is, most kids would never willingly eat this. 
So you aren’t surprised when she looks at it in disgust, borderline horror. 
“Look, it’s a star,” Steve beams, oblivious. 
Your chest aches with the desire to laugh and an equal pang of sympathy. 
Holly shakes her head, visibly toning down her expression for his sake. “Can I have something else?” 
“It’s good! I promise, just try it.” 
She slowly shakes no again. 
“Steve,” a peel of laughter escapes your lips. “It’s burnt.” 
He scoffs. “It’s not that burnt.” 
Your mouth twitches in a funny little line and your eyes leap between him and the plate. “It’s pretty burnt, Steve.” 
After a moment of silence, he sighs and picks both plates back up. 
“Wait,” you shout, “I’ll still eat mine! Mine isn’t that bad. You did a good job!” 
He sulks at you. “You’re just saying that. I’ll make new ones.” 
“No, it’s okay, really. I’ll eat this one. I don’t mind.” 
He plants the plate in your grabby hands and spins back toward the stove. 
Round two is much better, still star-shaped, and a few shades lighter. Holly thanks him more than once while eating it without you even asking her to. If only Nancy and Mike were as precious as her. And Steve eats the first attempt, now cold, and admits that it tastes, “slightly burnt.” 
You take the empty plates to the sink to wash while Steve and Holly lug the jewelry kits back upstairs. You meet them in Holly’s room after. They’re playing house, Steve the dad, and Holly the mom, with four babydolls for children. She appoints you to be the neighbor when you join. 
You knock on her bedpost, pretending it’s her front door. “Holly, in one hour you’re gonna take a bath.”
Her head pops out from under the blanket. “Can we watch a movie before bed?” 
“Sure, but we have to do bath now if you wanna watch the whole thing.” 
“Okay!” She kicks the sheets away, jumping off the bed in a race to the bathroom. Steve winces as she steps on his hand. 
“Do you need help?” he asks, sprawled across the bed, socked feet hanging over the edge. 
“No, I got it. You can rest in peace now,” you joke, halfway through the door. 
Holly is self-sufficient enough to bathe herself so all you have to do is supervise. You find a matching polka dot set of pajamas in her dresser and a towel under the bathroom sink. And she gets dry and dressed all by herself, Miss Independent. 
“So there’s The Little Mermaid, E.T., Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory…” Steve trails off, kneeling in front of the entertainment center. 
Holly hands him a VHS tape, “This one?” 
“Ooh, good pick.” Steve feeds the tape into the player and rewinds it. 
You pat the couch cushion beside yours as Holly skips over. Steve hits the light before flopping into the recliner with a satisfied groan. The Jungle Book glows to life on the TV, casting an indigo wash over each of your faces. Holly curls into herself, knees tucked to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them.
“Here,” Steve chucks a blanket from the basket at his side. 
“Thanks.” You scoop it off the floor where it missed the couch and billow it out over you and Holly. “Don’t fall asleep, Harrington.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Steve folds one leg over the other and crosses his arms, eyes glued to the screen. He reminds you of Mr. Wheeler sitting in his recliner like that. It’s alarming how attractive you find it. He’s not even doing anything worth staring at. You force your eyes back on the TV. 
The credits scroll up the screen for a whole minute before you realize the movie has ended. You aren’t asleep but you aren’t totally awake either. Steve’s not far off by the looks of it and Holly, on the other hand, was out like a light halfway through. Her head presses into your upper arm, her hand scrunched in the blanket on your thigh. The weight is nice, making it all the harder to pick yourself up and get her to bed. 
But thankfully Steve’s there to help. He twists in his chair until his back clicks, smiling when he catches sight of you and Holly. “I’ll carry her up,” he whispers. 
You gently work Holly’s stubborn fingers from the blanket as Steve stands. He pushes the rest of the fabric into your lap before bending to scoop Holly up. 
“Be right back,” he says, starting toward the stairs. 
You tug the blanket higher, seeking lost comfort in its folds, though it doesn’t compare to the warmth Holly provided. 
Steve pads back down not a minute later. He stops on the last step, hanging over the railing. “You awake?” 
“Barely,” you mumble. 
Steve plods up to the front door to check the locks. He orbits into the kitchen and then back around to the living room to turn the TV off. He’s being the responsible one. You aren’t sure why this surprises you. 
“Come on,” he opens his hand toward you. 
Your arm snakes out from under the blanket, and he lifts you effortlessly. You’ve seen how strong he is, how he fights, but it still surprises you. 
“I was gonna suggest another movie but I don’t think either of us’ll make it.” 
You catch a yawn from Steve. “I know. I’m so tired. It’s not even late.” 
He hums from behind you on the stairs. “Yeah. Who knew this’d be so exhausting.” He’s only being slightly sarcastic. There’s an obvious truth to what he implied, but at the same time, it is so much harder than you realized it would be. 
You stop at the landing, sluggishly turning to face Steve. “Well, goodnight, I guess.” 
“Goodnight.” 
You splinter into opposite ends of the hall. Steve let you have Nancy’s room for obvious reasons, though he wasn’t thrilled about crashing in Mike’s bed. He’s probably better off on the couch after seeing the kid’s closet. 
You change into cozier clothes and untuck Nancy’s quilt. Like with Steve, you and Nancy aren’t really friends. It’s strange being in her room, settling into her bed. And it’s almost stranger that Steve is sleeping across the hall. Yet, there’s an odd comfort in it— being surrounded by people who went through the same thing you did. 
ᯓ★
There’s thumping in the hall– footsteps, too light to be Steve’s. You fight the urge to go back to sleep. Holly needs a babysitter. But it’s not an easy feat, not when you’re swaddled like a baby in blankets much softer than the ones you have at home. You’re warm and it’s so quiet it feels like a gift; that is, until you remind yourself that kids and quiet don’t usually go hand and hand. She could be answering the door to a stranger, scaling the counters, setting the kitchen on fire, the possibilities are endless. 
You force your heavy eyes open and flinch as a much brighter pair come into focus. 
Holly bends over you with this innocent endearment you cannot possibly be mad to be woken by. “Told you, Stevie,” she says. 
“No, you woke ‘em up, goofball.” Steve lingers at the foot of the bed in a pair of striped pajama pants and a faded Olympics tee. You’ve never seen him in pajamas before, or anything quite like it. 
You prop yourself up on your elbows and rub your eyes for a better look. 
“Sorry,” he supplies. His voice is still raspy with sleep and his oh-so-perfect hair shoots up in wild peaks. The sight makes your chest buzz. “She said you had to get up to.” 
You redirect your attention to Holly, pinching the neckline of your shirt back over your shoulder as you sit up. 
“Can we have eggs?” she asks you. 
“Sure.” 
She traps her lip between her two frontmost baby teeth. “Five?” 
“Five eggs!” Steve chides. “Just for you?” 
She turns to nod at him, smile blooming. 
He wears the same joy, ruffling her already unruly bed-head. “What are you a linebacker?” 
She giggles, clueless as to what he’s talking about. 
“Let’s start with two and if you’re still hungry you can have more,” you compromise. 
You are undeniably a better cook than Steve, but the bar is low after yesterday. You serve scrambled eggs and unburnt toast. Holly looks at her plate like she hasn’t been fed a day in her life and she shovels spoonfuls of it in her mouth like it’s her last meal. 
Steve watches her with an anxious frown. “Smaller bites, Holl.” 
She nods but doesn’t exactly slow her pace. Steve chases your eyes, knocking your ankle with his when you don’t look. He gives you that funny face parents make. Help me out. 
You shrug. “It’s just eggs. Babies eat eggs.” 
He cycles through several emotions—frustration that you won’t back him up, disbelief that babies eat eggs, and a lingering fear that she might choke. But he stops himself from asking all the what-ifs, he trusts you. 
Holly swallows half of her glass of chocolate milk in one go. Steve looks mildly horrified. 
“My God. She’s like a little human vacuum,” he mumbles through a mouthful of toast. 
You snort into your glass. If Holly heard him, she’s too preoccupied to care. 
After breakfast, Steve sets her up in front of the TV to watch cartoons while you clear the table. He disappears into the basement in search of a board game but comes back with some deflated, plastic thing. 
“What happened to the board game?” you ask. “What even is that?” 
“It’s a kiddie pool. Let’s go outside. It’s nice out.” 
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.” 
“Me neither. Just wear that.” 
You wrinkle your nose down at your pajamas. “Go see if she wants to.” 
He smiles, retreating back into the living room. Shortly after, he shouts, “She said yes!” Footsteps pound up the stairs, followed by a second shout, “Don’t run!” 
Mrs. Wheeler calls the house phone and is pleased to hear your good report. She reminds you several times to apply sunscreen to Holly’s ears and that there’s an extra can in the upstairs bathroom. You wrangle Holly over to put her on and promise to call back before bedtime when she refuses to hang up. 
You sift through your bag, changing into the closest thing to swimwear. Steve takes forever in the bathroom, which doesn’t surprise you one bit. He comes out in a crisp white tee, way too expensive-looking for a pool day, and a pair of red gym shorts. 
“What are you, the lifeguard?” you joke. 
His hands snap to his hips. “Uhh, I’ll have you know I’ve been a certified lifeguard for two years, so yeah, actually.” 
You roll your eyes, brushing past him for the extra can of sunscreen. “Are you ready? Holly’s waiting.” 
“Yeah. Let me go blow up the pool. I’ll be outside.” 
You fix your hair in the mirror and tuck a few towels under your arm before heading downstairs. Holly’s already outside, criss-crossed in a big lawn chair and watching Steve with incredible boredom. He stands barefoot in the grass, the deflated pool pressed against his chest. He pulls away from the air valve when he notices you, quickly capping it with his thumb. 
“You okay?” you ask, laughing lightly. 
He nods, red-cheeked and breathless. “Think there’s a hole in it. Been blowin’ for like five minutes.” 
“Huh,” you drop the towels and take one end of the limp plastic. “Try again.” 
He funnels more air inside, it dispurses evenly underneath your palm. You don’t hear any air wheezing out so you turn it over for further inspection. 
“Oh, Steve. Here, look.” 
He pops his mouth off and follows your pointer finger. A second valve at the bottom, unhinged and releasing his hard work steadily. 
“Oh, you’re kidding me. Why’d they put one under there?”
You shrug, plugging it back up. “Holly, let’s get some sunscreen on so your mom doesn’t kill us.” 
Holly hops off the chair and skips to your side. You mist her skin in several layers, lathering a generous amount over her ears. When you move onto yourself, she grabs her basket of toys and climbs into the dry inflatable. Steve retrieves the hose and releases a cool stream into the pool, splashing Holly’s feet.
She squeals and scoots back. “Cold!” 
Steve’s thumb eclipses the opening so the water bursts out in wide a fan. He trains it at Holly, spraying her until she’s soaked and screaming. 
He’s giggling in a way you’ve never heard. Genuine, open-mouthed reels of laughter. You hate to admit it, but it’s really cute. So infectious you can’t help but join. 
He glances back for your reaction, pleasantly satisfied. And your smile incites a great idea. He swings the hose around, aiming it straight at you. 
“Steve!” Your arms shoot out to block the attack but it’s no use. 
“What?” he says, the epitome of innocence. 
Your eyes narrow but a smirk prevails. “Oh, you–” 
Holly tackles the back of his thigh with a scream. Steve stumbles forward and the hose slips from his grasp. 
You lunge for it before he even realizes what happened. And by the time he does, he’s already drenched. “Payback!” You laugh maniacally as he combs his hair out of his eyes. 
He’s laughing too, bent at the waist, still shaking his surprise. But only until he catches your gaze– then comes the glint of something playful, almost daring.
Steve barrels straight through the spray like a bull. He chokes your fingers over the nozzle, bending and bending the line until the water pours straight down your head. 
Holly dashes behind you to wrangle the wiggly tail of the hose, squealing at every layer of mist she catches. 
You and Steve wrestle with it, his hand on your hip, yours pushing his shoulder. He’s gentle but still strong. And his touch sears through the cold water, your skin tingling in his wake. 
The second he sticks the end down the back of your shirt you scream. “Okay, okay! I surrender!” 
He crimps the hose with one hand, smirking deviously. 
“I surrender,” you repeat, heaving through your laughter. 
Holly drops her end of the hose, backing up one slow step at a time. 
“Truce?” 
“Truce,” you nod, stepping up cautiously to shake his hand. 
He accepts your hand, using it to yank you closer and blast you again. You chase and dodge and tackle each other under the blazing sun until your legs feel like jelly. But the game eventually slows as exhaustion creeps in. 
You and Steve collapse in the lawn chairs while Holly lays belly-down in the pool. Water sloshes over the rim onto your toes as she kicks, a brief reprieve from the sticky heat. You're relaxed, but your mind wanders. You keep hoping the Wheelers won’t notice the sudden increase in their water bill. 
“Dustin talks about you all the time.”
You tear your eyes away from Holly, blinking back into reality as you face Steve. “What?”
“Dustin, he talks about you all the time. Kid loves you.” 
“Oh. He’s a sweet kid. Talks about you too. Keeps telling me to come see you at Scoops.”
Steve chuckles, more of a half-hearted puff of amusement than a real one. 
“Which, I’m sorry I haven’t, by the way,” you confess. 
His eyebrows jump, lips parting in soft surprise. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. He’s just being Dustin.” 
You press a blade of grass flat under your heel, as if the right words might sprout from the dirt. “I dunno. I mean, don’t you think it’s kinda weird that we don’t like talk? After everything?” 
The words bounce around Steve’s head for a minute. He fixates on your choice of weird. Weird, like bad? Weird like you want to talk? He can’t decide. And he’s afraid if he opens his mouth, the wrong words will tumble out. 
But he tries anyway, “Honestly, I thought you didn’t want to be friends. You were just so… distant after.” 
You rub the length of your arm, lips creasing into a frown. “Sorry, I was just. I don’t even know. Rattled, I guess.” 
“Yeah, rabid dogs with faces that split open and try to eat you tend to have that effect.” 
Your frown melts, little by little. 
“But we should’ve been there for you more. It was a hard time for everybody.” 
His apology echoes in your mind, the ache like a weight on your chest. 
“You could visit if you wanted to. At scoops. I could get you ice cream for free.” 
But the ache doesn’t stand a chance against the way he makes you feel. 
“Okay.” Your cheeks round with a sincere smile. “I’d like that.” 
He turns his head, as if to hide, but you still catch an echo of your own expression. Your eyes flicker across the contours of his profile, following the graceful line from his ear to his collar, before drifting over the sculpted shape of his arms and the long expanse of his thighs. Steve Harrington is objectively attractive. This isn’t the first time you’ve thought so. But it is the first time that fact makes your head spin. 
Maybe it’s the heat. The sun feels like it's roasting you alive, and Steve’s attractiveness certainly isn't helping. You’re feeling strange, thinking crazy things– the kind of thoughts that only come when you’re on the verge of heat stroke certainly. 
You stand abruptly and the grass sways underneath your feet. But you get your bearings before anyone notices. “Holly, can I come sit in the pool?”
Her eyes pop up, grin distorted underneath the water. She props her elbow up and rests her cheek in the palm of her hand. “What’s the password?”
“Umm, can you give me a hint?” 
A high-pitched hum. “Okay. She’s my favorite character.” 
“Uhh, Barbie?” 
“Nooo.” 
“Strawberry Shortcake?”
“Nooo.” 
“Hello Kitty?” 
“You’re really bad at this,” she giggles. It would be really cute if you weren’t possibly dying right now. 
“It’s Care Bears,” Steve interjects, snapping his fingers. “Uhh, the yellow one. Umm, Funshine!” 
“Yes!” Holly glows like the sun on Funshine herself. “Stevie can come in.”
Steve stands but he doesn’t get in. “Come on, Holl. It’s hot.”
“There’s a new password.”
“Okay, okay. Can I have another hint?” you ask. 
Her tongue curls out to lick the sweat off her lip. “My favorite color.” 
“Purple?” 
“Yes,” she nods and sits up. “But I really like yellow and blue and pink too.” 
You sink into the water, unsure if there was ever a wrong answer. It’s shallow and lukewarm, barely grazing the tops of your thighs, but it’s enough to cool the sun off your skin. Steve follows, and the space tightens awkwardly— the inflatable wasn’t built for three. His knee brushes yours while Holly’s toes nudge your foot, but neither of them seems to mind. 
You cup water up to your cheeks and pour it down your arms. 
“Better?” Steve asks, a droll little pinch to his features. 
He’s staring at you which is definitely not helping but you nod anyway. 
“Why don’t we move to the shade?” He stands before you or Holly agrees, offering his hand to pull you up. 
She races Steve to the nearest tree, though he doesn't stand much of a chance dragging the pool behind him. He refills it with fresh water and encourages Holly to splash you gently while he runs inside to make lunch. By the time he returns, you’re feeling much more yourself. 
“Bon Appétit,” Steve announces, lowering himself slowly onto a towel. He carries three animal-shaped plates stocked with fruit and PB&Js, one in each hand, another balanced on his forearm. 
Holly scrambles out of the water, plopping onto the other end of his towel. You get out too, shaking a second one out to lay beside theirs. 
“Lion or hippo?” he asks Holly. 
She hums for a long time, inspecting each plate meticulously before pointing to the lion.
“Good choice.” He sets the plate in front of her crossed legs and passes you the hippo. Steve takes the polar bear for himself, which notably only has half a sandwich. 
“Where’s the other half?” you ask. 
He takes a large bite, pressing his hand to his mouth to reply, “Ran out of bread.” 
“Here.” You rip one of your halves in half. 
“Thanks,” he says, syllables tangling as he chews. 
Holly watches the interaction fondly before pulling apart her own sandwich. It splits in a jagged line, mostly crust on one half. But happily, she thrusts the bigger piece toward Steve, jelly dribbling down her little fist. 
He tilts his head, a growing smile mirroring yours. “You eat it. I have enough now.” 
She crinkles her nose. “You eat it!” 
“No, you!” He squeezes her slim bicep. “You need to get big and strong.” 
“What about you?” 
“I’m already big and strong.” 
She considers this, giving him an obvious once-over that makes you laugh. “Trade?” 
“Okay, trade.” Steve chuckles, exchanging one of his halves for hers. He licks a stripe across his knuckle where her sticky fingers brushed his. It’s as innocent as the gesture can be but something about it has your cheeks burning in a way the sun couldn’t. 
Conversation tapers off, replaced with an easy quiet. Your stomach is satisfied with the food, but it’s your heart that feels the most nourished, steeped in the comfort of good company. You hadn’t expected to enjoy hanging out with Steve or Holly this much. 
Holly slouches into your arm, stretching her legs across the grass like a bridge between the towels. Her heels push into the pudge of Steve’s thigh, the faintest smirk crossing her lips. 
He squeezes her ankle until it darts away. 
Gradually, she presses again and in turn, he squeezes, but this time he doesn’t let go. She squeals as he drags her down your side. But all hell breaks loose when he starts tickling the bottom of her foot. 
She shrieks, thrashing and squirming against his hold, giggling in between gasps. “Ste–vie!” she cries.
Her laugh is too pure of a sound to be real, Steve thinks. His resolve crumbles, grip faltering. And Holly’s heel slams smack into his jaw. Steve winces, bending away to cradle his cheek. 
You straighten up. “You okay? Let me see.” 
Holly’s legs go limp in the grass, her shoulders tense in your lap. 
Steve’s hand slackens unveiling a red splotch not much darker than his sunburnt cheeks. He meets your eyes with a dismissive shake, “It’s okay.” 
You believe him. It doesn’t look nearly awful enough to make your concern stick. And his face has been through worse. Billy Hargrove painting his fists red with Steve’s blood is one of the things you remember most about that night. 
His attention dips down to Holly. She sniffles, eyes glistening in the sunlight with a frown nearly reaching her chin. 
“It’s okay. I’m okay, Holl.” 
Holly putters, whimpers drowning the edges of her words. “I’m sorry.” 
“It’s okay! I promise! It doesn’t even hurt,” he reassures, cupping her kneecap. 
You tug her off the ground and she sinks into your arms naturally. Hot tears pave a path down your neck only to dissolve in the fabric of your shirt. You coax her sobs out, one back rub at a time. 
Steve waits until she settles with this pitiful look on his face. “I know you didn’t mean to Hollybear. Just an accident. Hmm?” 
She nods against your chin. 
He strokes the back of her arm, fingers grazing yours where they work. “Please don’t cry.” 
Holly sniffles. 
“You know what might help me feel better?” She lifts a sweaty cheek off your chest as Steve opens his arms. “A hug.” 
She pushes out of your hands into his. He holds her tight, providing one loving squeeze after another. 
This is not how you pictured Steve to be under normal babysitting circumstances. A voice like sweet honey, eyes warm like the sun. He’s very soft, and so undeniably kind. And not just to Holly, but also you. 
Steve hooks the spare towel closer, draping it across her back. “Lean back,” he tells her. 
She avoids his gaze as she does, tears melting away under his touch. 
“You know what I think?” He cinches the towel at her collar like a cloak. 
She hums. 
“I think we should have popsicles for dessert.” 
Holly meets his eyes then, excitement glimmering underneath the droop of lingering guilt. 
“How does that sound?”
“Good,” she admits meekly. 
A smirk thins his lips. “I dunno though. What if we get a tummy ache?” He pokes her belly through the towel. “Maybe it’s not–”
“No– I want one!”
“I dunnooo,” he sings.
“Please, Stevie! You already said.”
“How bad do you want it? Like this much?” He pinches his fingers together, leaving the slightest gap between them. 
“No, no!” She shakes her head, casting her arms out as far as they’ll go. “This much!” 
He sighs loudly, shoulders sagging for the dramatic touch. “Okay.” 
Holly’s arms curl around his neck as he stands. He’s more than happy to carry her, but the added weight makes him groan. 
You trail behind automatically, half enjoying the show and just as excited for a treat. Steve pins the back door open with his foot, returning a smile you hadn’t realized you were sharing. Your cheeks are starting to protest, sore with overwhelming happiness. 
“What color do you want?” 
“Pink! Pink!” Holly shouts in his ear, loud enough to make you wince. But Steve doesn’t react in the slightest to her volume. You’d all taken a piece of the Upside Down with you after El sealed it up. And just when you seemed to forget it, you’d be reminded in the form of scars, nightmares, headaches, and in Steve’s case, hearing loss. 
He opens the freezer, Holly propped on his hip. She’s far too big to be carried like that comfortably but he does it anyway. 
“Pink for Holly. Red for Steve.” He leans back to find your face. “For you?” 
You purse your lips, “Surprise me.” 
Steve stows Holly on the countertop so he can snip the plastic tips. She receives her popsicle first, then you, and finally Steve. 
“Matching,” Holly observes as you sit beside them on the couch. 
Steve crosses his popsicle over your identically red one when you raise an eyebrow. “Look at that,” he says. 
She hums, gnawing on the plastic wrapper. Steve pushes the ice up for her and thumbs away the dribble at the corner of her mouth. She doesn’t seem to notice, but it catches you off guard. Steve’s such a natural at this you almost can’t believe he’s an only child. 
You turn the TV on to an episode of Care Bears as Holly slumps into Steve’s chest, slurping the last of her slush loudly. 
“Sleepy?” you ask when she kneads her eyes. 
“No.”
You chuckle, combing her frizz back. “Okay.” 
“You know, it’s okay if you are sleepy,” Steve mentions, equally amused. 
“I know. I’m not.” Her tone is casual, a portrait of nonchalance, despite the yawn that slips out afterward. 
You and Steve exchange a look of mutual fondness. 
“I’m pretty tired,” Steve declares, reclining into the cushions with a fake yawn. “I think I’ll take a nap.” 
Holly twists against him to watch. It doesn’t take long for her little fingers to poke and prod his lashline.
He peels one eye open, playfully cocking an eyebrow. 
She giggles and pinches the skin closed. 
You’re trapped between nervously supervising she doesn’t poke his eye out and leaving to get a baby wipe for her hands which you imagine are very sticky with popsicle juice. Either way, you’ll be surprised if Steve doesn’t have pink eye by morning. 
“I’m sleeping,” he whines and headbutts her palm gently. 
“Nooo,” she whines back, wedging her hand across his mouth. Delirium is setting in, a nap is imminent. 
Steve opens his eyes, giddy just the same. “Okay. You got me.” 
Holly frees his mouth to swipe a streak of red from his chin. Her tongue pokes out in prime concentration. 
A staggered laugh of disbelief is shaken from Steve’s chest. He hadn’t expected Holly to be difficult, but she’s been nothing short of delightful. She’s sweeter than Mike and Nancy combined and smarter than he thought kids her age could be. For a self-indulgent second, he hopes that his kids will turn out something like her. 
Holly reels back around to lay on her side, eyelids sagging with an inevitable heaviness. Steve draws the towel up to her chin, fixing his palm to her back. You watch her drift off, eyes slipping up every so often. 
When you’re positive she’s out, you cautiously dislodge the popsicle wrapper from her fingers. Steve passes his as you stand. 
One of the many hard things about kids is all the cleaning. Holly’s as neat as a five-year-old gets, and still, every moment of peace is an opportunity spent putting things back where they belong. You head outside to tip the pool over and collect stray towels and toys that didn’t make it back in. 
By the time you return, Steve’s passed out, mouth ajar, head craned back against the couch. It’s not a particularly attractive expression– he’d probably be embarrassed to wake to your staring– but you can’t find anything other than endearment in yourself.  
You shower and change into fresh clothes and end up on the opposite couch to watch TV. But Care Bears isn’t all that entertaining anymore so you rest your eyes for just a second. 
A second turns to several and when you reopen your eyes you discover the clock is two hours ahead of where it was before. 
The silence is only comforting for a fleeting moment before anxiety creeps in. Your eyes flick from the TV, now powered off, to the other couch where Steve and Holly are not where you left them. Nor are they in the dining room, kitchen, basement, or backyard. You take the stairs two steps at a time and nearly trip over a blanket strewn across the banister when Holly screams. 
You’d have kicked her door off the hinges if it came to it but are thankful it’s already open. Holly is perfectly safe, bent over the remnants of what you assume was a pillow fort. 
You release a breath caught in your throat and sag against the doorframe. Steve offers an apologetic smile when he notices. 
Holly glances over but quickly returns to their game. “You’ve destroyed my kingdom!” she shouts, drilling a finger into Steve’s chest. “Off with your head!” 
You’re too stunned to laugh, but a noise of confusion skips out. Steve gawks at Holly in pretend despair, scrubbing any seeping amusement off his lips with the back of his hand. He’s dressed in sweats, Holly in a princess dress. But more importantly, his face has been caked in makeup and his hair twisted into two fluffy knots. 
“You!” Holly yells with a scowl aimed at you. “Hold him down!” 
Steve pleads at your ankles, pressing his forehead to the carpet in prayer. It takes every ounce of you not to break character and laugh. There’s something so surreal about Steve Harrington, former King of Hawkins High, in sparkly eyeshadow, kneeling before a little girl to beg for his life. It’s hilarious as it is heartwarming. 
“If I may propose a suggestion!” You counter, equally dramatic. “A trade! For this silly man’s life, we will help rebuild your kingdom twice as big! Princess I–” 
“Queen!”
Steve snorts but she must miss it. 
“My apologies. Queen Holly, I can assure you this new Kingdom will have all of the finest luxuries that royalty like yourself might desire.” 
She takes a second to process the big words. “Fine!” She sneers, diving onto her mattress which is absent of all its sheets and blankets. “Chop! Chop!”
You bite your lip, chasing the fervent smile away. Steve gets right to work, sorting pillows from most to least sturdy. You steal another chair from Nancy’s desk and help Steve double-knot the roof to it. It’s no mansion, but it is long enough for Steve to lie down in, which is a job well done in your book. Especially when you’re under strict supervision and listening to a thread of loud critiques. 
You lift the door flap for Holly to crawl through. “Your quarters, Your Grace.” 
She glances over her shoulder with a wicked, but mostly adorable, expression. “My name is not Grace! It’s Holly! Queen Holly to you!” 
The explanation dies on your tongue because how can you possibly argue with that? You’re just grateful to still have your head. 
After the grand tour, Queen Holly disappears into one of the tent’s offshoots with a handful of stuffed animals she's referring to as her royal guards. 
Steve scoots closer, whispering behind his hand, “I think we need to stage a coup.” 
You lean into his good ear, affection spilling off your tone, “I didn’t know she could be so mean.” 
“Me neither! She must be hanging out with Mike.” 
“Must be.” You grin for what feels like the millionth time today. 
You’re sitting knee to knee, close enough to catch the heat of Steve’s breath on your cheek. You drag the pad of your finger across his cheekbone where teal eyeshadow has been caked on in several layers. “I like this,” you compliment. 
I kinda forgot she put that on.” He ducks his head bashfully, peeking up through his eyelashes. “Do I look pretty?” 
“The prettiest.” 
He receives it as teasing, but it’s true, you do think Steve is pretty. A strong nose, kind eyes, and sure, maybe the hair. But now that you’re inches apart, you notice twin smile lines, a series of freckles down his cheek, and a faded scar across his forehead. You linger there more than anywhere else, under the guise of judging Holly’s makeup job, of course. 
But the silence twists into something less comfortable with each passing second. A brief twitch of emotion flickers across Steve’s face, gone before you can name it. “So… pizza for dinner?” he blurts out. 
Before you’ve processed what happened, Holly shouts, “Cheese please!” 
Steve splinters from your gaze, calling back, “Yes, My Queen.” 
Dinner is pleasantly easy. The pizza’s delivered and paper plates save you from the hassle of dishes after. You eat at the kitchen table, sharing stories and smiles, strangely like a family. 
And after dinner, Holly has a bath; and after bath, Steve whisks her off to bed. You’re left to your own devices for once, a benevolent bout of peace, but still, you can’t seem to relax. 
The spray of the bathroom light paves the hall leading to Holly’s room. You tiptoe up to the door and peek inside. 
Steve’s on the floor, slouched against the side of the bed cradling Holly to his chest. He flinches as your shadow veers across the moonlit wall.  
“Sorry,” you whisper, dropping onto your knees beside them. 
Holly picks her head up, tear tracks shimmering as she turns. Her lip wobbles through a whimper. 
You soften like wax near a flame, eyes flitting to Steve who looks equally at a loss. 
She curls her knees into his tummy in a way that probably hurts. The poor thing dissolves into fresh tears, spilling out faster than Steve can chase away. 
“Holls, it’s okay, honey. Me and Stevie are here, okay?” 
She strains to speak through a chain of gasps, “I want my Mommy!” 
“I know, I know. She’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” you steer sweat-slick hair behind her ear. 
“I want her now.” 
“We’ve got ya, Holl,” Steve chimes in. 
“We’re right here.” 
“No– Mommy!” 
It goes like this for a while, soothing reassurances met with unyielding resolve. Holly’s not one to be stubborn for no reason. She’s so exhausted and upset it breaks your heart. You try reading and music and back rubs but there seems to be no end to her sobbing. 
Steve strokes her ankle where it’s now tucked underneath her in your lap. He looks exhausted– hair draped over his forehead like a claw, extra weight embedded in each of his eyelids. You’re both at your breaking point. “You wanna sleep with me tonight Hollybear?” he says in a tone gentler than you’ve ever heard. 
“No. Mommy,” she persists. 
“You can sleep with her when she gets back. But tonight you get to have a sleepover with Steve. Or you can even sleep with me in Nancy’s bed, okay?” 
Red-rimmed eyes flick between you and Steve. Neither option is as good as Mom. 
“Both,” Holly whines. 
“Wanna lay with both of us?” 
She nods. “In the middle.” 
“Okay,” you turn to Steve. “We can do that.” Your words are colored like a question but he’s already nodding his answer. 
He shovels Holly from your lap, cheek pressing into hers in an unspoken exchange of relief. “Alright, munchkin. Let’s go steal Nancy’s big bed. Sound good?” 
She hums her approval into his ear. 
Steve pokes Nancy’s door open with his foot, swinging around to the tucked side of the bed. You crawl across your end as Holly slides off his chest. She molds herself against your shoulder, tugging Steve closer when he settles. 
“Goodnight, Hollybear,” he says. 
She steals your hand from underneath the comforter, then his where it lies on the sheet. Your knuckles brush Steve’s where they are stapled to her chest. “Goodnight,” she sighs. 
Steve strokes up and down the back of her hand, his touch a quiet catalyst. She’s asleep in mere minutes, snoring softly, fingers limp against yours. 
Steve nudges your hand where it’s already pressed to his, whispering when you turn, “Am I crazy that I find all of this kinda fun?” 
You shake your head, a smile working its way across your lips. “Guess that would make me crazy too.” 
“I know I always complain about driving those little shits around but Holly’s actually really fun to babysit.” 
“Yeah, she is. At least it’s not the end of the world this time, right?”
“Yeah, that probably helps, huh?” Amusement ebbs into a sigh. “I’m kinda dreading going home, to be honest.”
“Why don’t we put Mike in a wig? Kidnap Holly for ourselves.” 
He snorts into his pillow. “Oh, yeah. That’ll work. ‘Yeah, I dunno Mrs. Wheeler, she had a crazy growth spurt while you were gone.’”
“We’d take good care of her.”
“We would,” he nods. “You’re really good with her.” 
“So are you. Kinda surprised me actually.”
“Really? Cause Dustin tells me weekly I’d make a good mother.” 
“Yeah, but they’re different. Older. And don’t get me wrong, you’re great with them and they love hanging out with you. Holly’s just little. You’re so much gentler with her, and like, you always seem to know what to do.” 
“For the record, I have no clue what I’m doing.”
“Me neither. I don't know what Mrs. Wheeler was thinking asking us to do this.”
Intertwined laughter fades, but something else— something similar— lingers. An almost tangible buzz of energy, as if the silence itself is alive with unspoken words. You entertain the idea that the feeling’s not exclusive to just you. That Steve hears the same jitter in his pulse and feels the same flutter against his ribs. That you aren’t alone to be feeling such a way.    
“Is it–” 
“Are we–”
“Sorry, you go,” he jabbers out. 
The words trickle back down your throat, too thick to cross your tongue again. “You can probably go now,” you decide. 
His gaze jumps to Holly’s chest where his hand is still coupled with one of hers. 
“If you want,” you amend. “You don’t have to.” 
“You don't mind? If I stayed?”
You shake your head.
“Just worried she’ll wake up if I move.” 
You try to flatten your excitement as you reply, “You can stay.” 
His gaze swims with yours across Nancy's room, skimming over the cluttered dresser, the desk strewn with books and pens, to the shuttered closet doors.
“Sorry about– you know– I heard Nancy… dumped you,” you say, immediately regretting the awkward phrasing.
“Harsh,” he squints and casts you a bittersweet grin. “But true.”
“Is it… weird? To be in here?” 
“A little. But not as much as I thought it would be. Hell of a lot better than Mike’s room.” 
You hum, watching the gentle shift in his brows. 
“Is it weird for you?” 
“Me?” you ask. “In what way?” 
“You and Nance. You don’t always see eye to eye.” 
“I mean, yeah. When our decisions involve risking our lives– or the kids– she’s pretty damn impulsive. And she can be real stubborn and selfish sometimes too. But I dunno, I still love her. She’s been sort of like a sister since everything started. I think that’s why we argue.” 
“What does that make me? Your brother?” 
You roll your eyes. “No, you’re the stray dog we adopted.” 
“Okay. That’s just mean.”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Your laugh laps out louder than you intend, but Holly remains still. “I dunno who you’d be. The love interest?”
“I can work with that, sexy love interest–”
You scoff. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Harrington.” 
“Okay, okay. But love interest because…”
“Cause you dated Nance.”
“Oh,” he exhales. 
“You don’t agree? Should we go back to stray dog?” 
“Oh, shut up. I’m going to bed.” Steve rolls onto his side with a sigh. 
“Keep your snoring to a minimum, please.” 
He grumbles, narrowing his eyes at your smirk. “I don’t snore.”
“You do. I could hear it from here last night.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did,” you argue. “It definitely wasn’t Holly.” 
“Whatever. Goodnight.” 
“Night.” 
Only when your eyes are closed does his smile finally emerge. It’s silly how quickly you can pull it out of him. It throws him for a loop every time. But with you at his side, maybe he’ll dream of happier things for once. Either way, it’s easier to fall asleep, just knowing you’re there falling asleep too. 
ᯓ★
“Shhhh!” 
“No, you shhhh,” a lighter voice giggles. 
“Holly,” Steve scolds, mirth buttering his tone. You know he’s smiling by the sound alone. 
Holly’s laughter triples in volume but then is abruptly muffled. 
“Ew– did you just lick me?” 
And this all just sounds way too cute to miss out on. You pry your lashes apart, still sticky with sleep, and flip on your side to face them. 
They freeze, eyes widening adorably in sync. Steve is reclined against the headboard, an arm bent behind his neck. Holly is sprawled halfway across his tummy, toes tickling your side. 
“Sorry,” he offers like you’d be mad. But how could you possibly be anything but enamored waking up to their giggly little voices? If you could be woken up like this every day, you would. 
You shake your head, scratching underneath your eyes. The walls are bathed in muted colors, waiting to be warmed by the sunrise. It’s still early. 
Holly rolls off of Steve onto the floor and barrels out of the room. 
“Where are you going?” he shouts. 
“Potty!” 
Steve turns to you, eyes roving across your bedhead for an embarrassingly long amount of time. “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“Did she kick you last night?” 
You rake your fingers through your hair, quickly moving them to your lips to stifle a yawn. “Not that I remember.” 
“Oh, you’d remember. Trust me. She was on top of me the whole night.” He’s smiling like an idiot. He couldn’t sound annoyed about it if he tried. 
“Aww, she loves you,” you coo. 
“Yeah,” he agrees, pink dusting his cheeks, “I can’t wait to do this.”
“Hmm?”
“Settle down. Have a family. I wasn’t, like, a hundred percent sure before, but I am now.” 
“You’ll be a good dad.”
He beams at you like he’s just won the lottery. “You think?” 
“For sure.” And he really would. You’re sure of it after last night. 
He opens his mouth to speak but your stomach cuts him off with an obnoxious growl. “Hungry?” Steve chuckles. 
“Shut up.” You swipe your pillow and smack him. 
He smacks you back, pulling it to his chest before you can steal it. “Wanna go out for breakfast?” 
Your brain short circuits. You forget you’re babysitting and not just laying in bed with Steve Harrington for fun. He is not asking you on a date like your heart assumes. 
“Oh, yeah. Sure. For sure,” you sputter out, heat licking up the back of your neck. 
“I’ll go see what she wants,” he slides onto the floor and shakes his legs awake. 
Steve’s tall, even sluggishly slumped over. But even more so as he stretches– arms rising with his shirt, revealing a fraction of golden skin above his waistband. A long, lazy moan climbs out of his chest. 
You push the comforter off before you burst into flames. 
Holly determines she wants IHOP because they put chocolate chips and sprinkles on the pancakes. Steve supplies her with an outfit and wrestles her hair into pigtails with bows to match her skirt. It’s surprisingly coordinated and admittedly cute, but maybe you’re wrong to be so surprised– he knows his way around a comb and a closet. 
“Can I get pancakes?” she asks Steve, perched on the bottom step of the stairs. 
He’s cross-legged on the floor, hunched over to lace her sneakers. “I already told you yes, silly goose.”
“Can I get extra sprinkles?”
“Uhh, does your mom let you?”
She thinks about it before answering. “Yes, I think so.” 
“Sure, then.” He grins, clapping her tied shoes together before standing. 
You shoulder Holly’s bag, stuffed with books and toys and a jacket in case it rains, courtesy of Steve who insisted she might need it. “Ready?” you ask him.
Steve races Holly to the car while you lock up. Mrs. Wheeler installed Holly’s car seat in Steve’s beamer before she left but you’ve yet to use it. 
“It’s too tight,” Holly whines from the car, loud enough to hear from the top of the driveway. 
“I know, ‘m working on it,” Steve assures, working his fingers under the straps. “Just gotta figure it out.”
“Hurry!” 
“I’m hurrying, Holl. Give me a sec’.” 
You open the passenger door and peek around the headrest to view her. The belts are buckled but not tight enough to spark concern. “He’s going as fast as he can, Holly. Be patient.” 
She squirms under his hands, exhaling sharply. And like her, Steve’s frustration mounts, jaw tightening, brow furrowing. His fingers keep slipping and he’s not totally sure which button or strap is for loosening. 
You swing around to Holly’s door and cup Steve’s shoulder. “Let me try.”
He knocks his head on the roof as he pulls out. 
You wince, “Okay?” 
He softens as you reach for his neck, though your fingers never land. Still, the tender look you offer is enough to cure any bumps or bruises he might’ve gotten. 
It’s an unfortunate amount of trial and error before Holly is fastened in properly. Steve cranks the AC on full blast when you finally settle into your seats and circles through radio stations after he backs out. He finds the kid’s station, playing a Muppet’s song that Steve apparently knows every word to. He sings unapologetically loud, a stupid grin sewn to his face. 
When you arrive, Holly happily holds your hand through the parking lot, still clutching tightly as you wait to be seated. She climbs onto your lap to make room on the waiting bench for a woman looking ready to pop out a baby any minute. Steve stands at your other side, arm braced behind your neck. 
“How old is she?” the woman asks you fondly. 
“She’s five,” you return her smile, bouncing your knee. “Right, Holly?”
Holly twists to hide in your neck, nodding. 
“She’s very cute,” she says with such love you already believe her baby is in good hands. “Your sister?” Her eyes flick from yours to Steve who is mostly oblivious to the conversation. 
“No, just babysitting.” 
“Oh, well, you’ll make good parents one day.” 
The comment renders you speechless. It’s not that you hadn’t considered children before, but you hadn’t pictured them with Steve. With his smile, his eyes, his nose. It’s that this woman who doesn’t even know you imagined it before you had. You blink at her stupidly through a forced smile.
Steve squeezes your shoulder, ripping you from your thoughts. “You okay? Table’s ready.” 
You get seated in a booth overlooking the parking lot. 
Holly bends across Steve’s lap to point through the window. “I see our car!” 
“Yeah, that’s her.” 
Holly’s face contorts with confusion. “Her? Your car’s a girl?” 
“Yep–”
The waitress swings over with a handful of menus and a hasty introduction. Steve already knows what he wants and he places Holly’s order after his, making sure to clarify the extra sprinkles when she calls his name repeatedly to remind him. As soon as you decide, the waitress bustles off with the pair of menus to another table. 
Holly slides her paper menu closer, examining each activity. 
Steve picks open the box of crayons, revealing a stingy three– red, green, and blue. “You know, for a multi-million dollar company, you’d think they could afford more than three crayons.”
“And more staff,” you add, eyes tailing another waitress zipping from one table to another. 
Holly points at herself, Steve, and then you, counting, “One, two three. Three crayons for three people.” 
“Yeah, good point,” Steve pats her thigh. “Always the optimist.” 
“Op-ta-nist?”
“Op-ta-mist,” he clarifies. 
She snags the green crayon and presses it to the paper. “What’s that?”
Steve opens and closes his mouth. “Well, it’s like– it’s when you– you’re happy a lot. Grass is always greener on the other side, you know?” 
Steve lost her at the metaphor but she’s too focused on staying inside the lines to care about the definition of optimist anymore. 
“You got there eventually. Sort of,” you tease. 
His foot stabs your ankle under the table. “Shut up.” 
Steve lets Holly win every single round of tic-tac-toe while showering her with praise, convincing her she's a tactical mastermind. You can’t quite tell if she’s onto him, but she’s too busy grinning to say otherwise.
The waitress plants your and Steve’s plates on the table first, reaching behind to scoop Holly’s off her tray next. “And, chocolate chip pancakes with extra sprinkles for the little one.” 
“Thank you,” you manage to say before she leaves to tend to another table flagging her down. “Holly, want syrup?”
“Yes, please.” 
You pour a spiral of maple syrup over Holly’s pancakes. The amount of sugar on her plate might qualify it more as candy than breakfast. And she’s ogling the food like it’ll grow legs and run away. 
“Steve, will you cut them up for her?”
He nods, swallowing a mouthful of scrambled eggs and trading his fork for a knife. As soon as he slides her meal back over, Holly ravages the pancakes, spooning another bite in her mouth before she’s swallowed the last.
The waitress whisks by with drink refills, joy driving her to a smile at the sight of Holly and her half-empty plate. 
“I swear we feed her at home,” Steve chuckles through his own joke. What a dad thing to say. “Can we get some more napkins?” 
And it’s like he knows what’s going to happen. Holly stretches across the table for the syrup bottle, drawing back with an open-mouthed grimace. 
“Uh-oh.” She presses her chin to her chest. There’s a patch of syrup turning the hem of her pink shirt brown. 
“What?” Steve throws a pigtail behind her shoulder so he can see. “Oh. It’s okay.” 
“It was an accident,” Holly explains. 
“I know. It’s okay.” 
“It’s sticky.”
“It’ll wash off.” Steve dunks a clean napkin in his cup of water and dabs it across the stain. 
“It’s too cold,” she complains, pinching the fabric away from her skin. 
“Sorry. It’ll dry. Have to get the syrup out, though.” 
You deliver another wad of napkins to Steve’s hand. He pushes them against her belly, soaking up any excess water. His patience never frays.
Holly looks up, worry etched into her voice, “Will it stain?” 
“I dunno,” you supply truthfully. “We’ll throw it in the wash when we get home.” 
Steve pays the bill with the cash the Wheelers left and scrapes his wallet for change, stacking two quarters on the table when he finds them. “Since you’ve been such a good listener. There’s a sticker machine up front,” he tells Holly. 
Steve might as well have slapped a ticket to Disney World on the table. Holly literally jumps for joy, right out of her seat. She buys a random Lisa Frank sticker and pockets the second coin for her piggy bank. 
It’s Steve’s idea to go to the playground afterward. The park is teeming with life, the kind of chaos that only a weekend morning can bring. Swings creak under the weight of eager kids, and the monkey bars have their own traffic jam. Parents wrap the playground like a barricade, their chatter drowned out by laughter and shouts. But the heat presses down ruthlessly, making every step feel like you’re wading through a sauna.
Holly tears away from Steve’s hand as soon as her shoes hit the mulch, rejoicing in her newfound freedom with a little skip. She races up a set of stairs to wait for a turn on the tallest slide. 
“Should’ve brought sunscreen,” Steve says, eyes following Holly down the slide. She flashes you both a prideful smile from the bottom. 
“She’ll survive. We won’t stay long. It’s too hot.” You pull your shirt out to fan your chest, dabbing the sweat beading at your sternum. 
“Careful!” he shouts as she hops from one platform to the next. She continues to bounce along the path, one wobbly leap at a time. A particularly long jump has Steve cringing. He’s trying really hard not to be overanxious and it’s as sweet as it is amusing. 
He side-eyes your grin with an opposing frown. You don’t even have to say anything for him to know you’re teasing him. “What?” 
You shrug, smile doubling. “You.”
“What about me?” 
“You’re just funny.” 
“My concern is funny to you?” he accuses. 
“She’s fine, Steve.” 
He makes a noise of disagreement, arms crossed and a hip popped out dramatically far. You see why Dustin teases him for being motherly. 
Holly struggles with the monkey bars. She makes it halfway across before her arms start to shake and her hands slip. Steve lunges forward as he watches her plummet to the ground. But before he can swoop in, Holly pops up, dusts the dirt from her skirt with a nonchalant shrug, and marches on, completely unfazed. 
“See. She’s fine,” you reassure.
“Whatever,” Steve grumbles, strolling away to sulk in private. 
He makes a slow lap around the playground, hands planted firmly on his hips, casting a critical eye over the chaos. Meanwhile, you snag a spot on a bench, where most parents are engrossed in magazines or gossip, blissfully detached. You watch Steve get roped into playing a monster, though you can tell he secretly loves it. 
It doesn’t take long for him to start stomping around, roaring and growling, chasing the kids as they shriek and scatter. And when they finally tire him out, he collapses beside you, his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and his breath coming in ragged bursts. 
“I told her five more minutes,” he says, stretching an arm across the back of the bench behind you. His curls shine honeycomb gold in the spray of sunlight and his skin echoes the warmth of desert sand, softened pink like the blush of sunset. He looks strikingly gorgeous sprawled out beside you. 
Holly trots over not much later, alarmingly upset. 
You sit up, urgently shaking Steve’s thigh to grab his attention. “What happened, honey?” 
“I– I was,” she sucks in a staggered breath, “I was climbing the stairs and– and a boy, he pushed me.” Twin rivulets of tears are unleashed with a blink, converging at the curve of her chin. 
You scan her from head to toe. Nothing looks broken or bloody. “Are you hurt?” 
“No,” she strains. 
You drag her into your chest, pressing a loving cheek to her ear. “Did it scare you?” 
She nods, hiccuping into your neck. 
“I’m sorry, Holly. That wasn’t nice at all.” 
Steve’s gaze shifts between Holly and the playground to search for guilty suspects. He finds none, thankfully, though he’s still itching to wring out whatever parent it is not watching their kid– which is unfortunately most of them.
“Let me see,” he coaxes Holly over for his own checkup. He picks a piece of mulch from her hair and flicks off another stamped into her calf. “Think you’ll make it? Should we call an ambulance?” 
She doesn’t smile at his joke like you hope. 
“Ready to go home?” you ask.
She sniffs into her sleeve. “Yeah.” 
“Alright.” Steve hoists her up as he stands. Holly's long legs wrap around his waist, feet swaying against his thighs as he walks. 
Holly naps on the way home, not by choice but by sheer exhaustion. She convinces herself she didn’t actually fall asleep when she wakes up in the driveway, swearing, “I just closed my eyes.” 
But it’s quickly apparent that twenty minutes was not enough. She cries because her leftover pizza for lunch is cold in the middle and again when she rubs the sauce in her eye. You turn on a movie, hoping to induce another nap, but The Aristocats is just too good to sleep through. Thankfully, her grumpiness wanes into a more manageable pout, her arms uncrossing to snuggle closer to you on the couch.
When the movie ends, she slinks up, her departure leaving your lap cold. After a long-winded debate about what to do, you all finally agree on playing a board game. Steve steers Holly downstairs to pick one out and she returns with a rekindled excitement, dropping the game Twister at your feet. 
There’s nothing inherently wrong with Twister, but you were expecting something easier. Candy Land or Chutes and Ladders. So you let Steve and Holly go first. The round ends in a heap of tangled limbs and giggles, a winner unclear. But Holly wins the match against you, admittedly fair and square. And it’s all fun and games until she insists you and Steve must compete. 
“Ehh, Holly. My arms are tired,” you reason. 
“But I wanna be the referee too,” she whines. “Pleaseee!” 
Steve shrugs at you, a playful little curve to his lips. If you say no, that makes only you the bad guy. And you just can’t bring yourself to break Holly’s heart over something so simple. 
“Okay,” you sigh, ignoring the nervous tick in your chest. 
Holly pushes you by the hips onto the mat to stand opposite Steve. She gets situated on the floor and excitedly flicks the spinner, calling, “Left foot. Blue!” 
You each step toward a blue dot. Easy. 
“Right foot on green.” 
Right foot, green. You’re shoulder to shoulder now, hips angled toward his. 
“Right hand… yellow!” 
“Here we go,” you mumble, bending down to reach yellow. “Okay.” 
Steve chuckles and follows suit, free hand hovering awkwardly behind your shoulder. 
You twist your head until you can’t, just to see the stupid look on his face. “You know, your long legs really give you an unfair advantage here.” 
“Don’t be a sore loser,” he chides, hot breath fanning the back of your already hot neck. 
“Don’t speak so soon, Harrington. You’re the one who’s gonna lose.” 
“Right hand, red,” Holly announces. 
You lean back toward red, headbutting Steve’s side so you don’t fall. He curls into position next, swaying until his back pocket is inches from your nose. 
“Oh my God, Steve. Get your butt out of my face!” You’d shove him if you had an extra hand. 
Holly giggles in that contagious way kids laugh, automatically pulling one from Steve. 
“Don’t make me laugh. If I go down, so are you,” he reminds you. 
“Umm, left foot green,” Holly says. 
Steve groans dramatically, whining. “What! Holly, that’s impossible. Spin again.” 
She cackles, reminiscent of Queen Holly. “Nope, you have to! That’s the rules!”
And somehow, you both make it to green without knocking each other over. But you’re getting distracted– Steve’s hand has brushed your calf three times now and his shirt is loose, hanging off his chest in a way that gives you a clear view of his tummy. This might as well be sabotage. You tear your eyes away. You must focus. You didn’t care much for winning before, but something about Steve brings out your competitive side. 
“Right hand, green.” 
You bow your knee until it’s wedged uncomfortably into your ribcage so you can reach the green. Your thighs quickly begin to ache. You won’t last much longer in this position. Especially not when Steve arches over you like a human bridge, the zipper of his jeans tickling your back where your shirt has scrunched up. 
He shakes his hair out of the way so he can see you, albeit upside down. His smile stretches wide, radiating pure, unfiltered joy. He’s having the time of his life, and admittedly, so are you. 
Your elbow juts out, nearly giving under the weight of his gaze alone. But you snap it back in place and practically beg Holly, “Spin.” 
“Left foot blue!”
You and Steve lunge for the same blue circle. His sock slides against the tarp, leg extending much farther than he’s prepared for. His arm buckles, chest slamming down against your back. Your elbows give out immediately under the force of his weight, jaw slamming into the floor. 
“Shit, sorry! You okay?” 
A burst of laughter tumbles out of your mouth before you can answer. But maybe it’s an answer in itself. Your chin stings but you're fine. Better than fine, even. 
As soon as Steve scrambles off of you, you flip onto your back. His eyes trickle down you in assessment, eyebrows knitting together, mouth twitching like it can’t decide whether to frown or smile. 
“I’m okay,” you manage, smiley and breathless. 
“Did you hit your face?”
“Just my chin.” 
He reaches for your face with hesitant fingers. “Sorry.”
You shake your head, bolstering his wrist as he cups your chin. “I definitely won.” 
And just like that, all his worry washes away. He pries your hand from his wrist, wrenching you up to sit. “Technically, you hit the floor first.” 
You glance over to Holly for her professional referee’s opinion but find she’s no longer there. “Where’s–”
“I found it!” she yells from the upstairs. What exactly she found, you’ve no idea. But she comes stomping down the stairs not a minute later with a little box in her hands. Bandaids, you realize, as she dumps the contents on the twister mat beside you. “They’re Hello Kitty,” she says, stripping the paper backing off of one. 
You let her little fingers stamp it to the curve of your chin. It’s not bleeding, nor does it really hurt that bad, but the gesture is sweet enough to melt your heart. “Thank you, Holly. You’re so gentle. You should be a candy striper.” 
“I don’t think I’m old enough.”
“When you’re older then.”
Steve decides Twister is far too dangerous to keep playing, but Holly demands a game of Mouse Trap so it works out. Steve wins, despite you and Holly’s strategic alliance halfway through. And by then, she’s asked about dinner twice so you shelve the rest of the games and head up to the kitchen to decide together. 
Holly hums into the freezer, “Chicken nuggets… pizza rolls– oh! Eggos, can we have Eggos?” 
Steve bites the inside of his cheek, peering over her, “Why don’t we cook something? We could have a fancy dinner. Like a dinner party.”
“Can we dress up?”
“Sure,” he shrugs, flipping a pack of ground beef over. 
“Pasta?” you call from the pantry.
“Ooh, yeah. Let’s do that.”
Holly sprints upstairs for a costume, much more interested in the party than the dinner. You pull a box of noodles and an unopened jar of sauce from the shelf while Steve grabs a pot from the cabinet and sticks it under the faucet. 
“Careful. Stove’s on,” you announce, flicking the dial on high. 
Steve backs up from the sink slowly, water sloshing over the side of the pot when he bumps the table. 
“Steve,” you chuckle, pulling a dish towel from the oven handle, “It doesn’t need to be that full.” 
“No?” 
“No, dump like, half of that out.” 
He nods, pouring some out and depositing the rest over the stove. “I’m gonna be honest, I’ve never made pasta before.”
“Yeah, I could’ve guessed,” you quip, elbowing his side with the box of noodles in hand. “Pour these in?”
He takes the box and gives it a good shake. “How much?” 
“Maybe half? Little more?” 
He tips it over the water, snapping it back up when much more than half slides out. “Oops.” 
“It’s okay.” You chuck a few stray pieces from the counter into the pot. “Everyone’s getting seconds tonight. What do you like in your pasta?” 
“Sauce?” 
The laugh fizzles out in your throat as you realize he’s not making a joke. “Besides sauce. Cheese? Meat? Spices?” 
“Oh, uhh, I’m not sure.” Steve scratches the back of his neck, hand retracting to fidget with the hem of his shirt. He’s antsy, clearly nervous. Maybe embarrassed of his cooking knowledge, or rather, lack of it. Or perhaps afraid the pasta will end up something like the first set of grilled cheeses. 
“We’ll keep it simple then. Holly probably won’t like it too fancy anyway.” 
Steve nervously watches the water bubble, foam climbing up the sides. “Do you like garlic bread? Saw some in the freezer.” 
You fish the box out and line a pan with three pieces. And with bread in the oven and the pasta starting to boil, you hop on the counter to wait.  
“How long does it take?” Steve asks.
“Not long.” 
You open the drawer beside your legs and find a big wooden spoon. Lucky guess. “Here. Stir.” 
His eyes follow the ladle, stirring with steady hands. It’s a peaceful quiet, his focus unusually soft. Not the urgent, fate of his life kind of determination you’re used to seeing. 
When it’s ready, you pinch the spoon’s neck, fingertips sweeping his for the half a second before he lets go. “Now we strain the water. Then we can add the sauce.” 
You find a strainer and plant it in the sink while Steve carries the pot over and pours. He sets it back on the stove, per your orders, and offers a hand when you struggle with the sauce lid. 
He pins the jar against his chest, knuckles straining white in several attempts to twist the cap. But it pops off after a good shake, spraying sauce across your cheek, and spinning to the floor like a frisbee. 
Steve freezes, gawking at your face with a stupid smile. 
“Steve!” You scoop up a dish towel and smack his arm. 
He throws his hands up and turns a shoulder to you. “I didn’t mean to,” he snickers. 
“Don’t laugh! I’ll pour that whole jar over your head.” 
He doesn’t buy your threat one bit, still laughing as he sets the jar down and steals the towel from your hands. “I’ll get it. Sit still.” 
You summon the most menacing glare you can manage while suppressing a smile. He presses the towel to your cheek, thumb gliding across your skin as he wipes the sauce in one languid motion. His eyes flick down to your lips and you’re positive you aren’t imagining it. 
But you’re sweating and your stomach is churning and– “The pasta!” You ram into Steve’s shoulder trying to get by, rushing to turn the stove temperature down. 
Steve whisks up behind you to see the food. “Is it burnt?” 
“No, no. It should be fine.” You scrape the ladle under the bottom layer of noodles. “Pass me the sauce?”
You avoid his eyes as you take it. Was he going to kiss you? Maybe just thinking about it? Or perhaps there was just sauce near your mouth and you’re spiraling over absolutely nothing. 
You toss the food in sauce and divide it into three plates silently. 
“Holly! Food’s ready,” Steve shouts as he fixes the table with napkins and silverware. 
She clambers down the steps in a tutu and a cardigan that you’re pretty sure is Nancy’s. Her smile drops. “Where are your clothes?” 
Steve looks down at his sweats. “Holly, I think we’ll just–”
“Please, Stevie. It’s a dinner party, remember?” 
His eyes dart to you, though you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “One sec.”
He swings back into the kitchen wearing a tweed suit jacket, a silky, black one draped over his arm. His is a few sizes too big, shoulder pads drooping down his biceps, and the sleeves swallowing his hands. He pushes the fabric up his elbows to hand you the other jacket. “For you.” 
“Thanks,” you deadpan. It comes off less sarcastic than you aim for. 
Holly and Steve adopt similar grins as you slip the jacket on. “You look dashing,” she compliments. 
“Very,” Steve agrees, taking a seat beside you. 
You spend the rest of dinner internally debating whether he’s flirting or just indulging in Holly’s playful antics. The uncertainty makes your stomach flip, and suddenly you aren’t so hungry anymore. 
After the dinner party concludes, it’s Holly’s suggestion to go for a walk. She wheels her bike out of the garage, fitted with a set of training wheels and a handlebar bursting with tinsel. A yawn rolls off her tongue as she launches down the driveway. It raises your hopes for a smoother bedtime tonight. 
Even as the horizon melts into the Earth, the summer heat clings like a heavy hand. Trees project long shadows along the road, eating what’s left of the sunlight. Bugs buzz and birds chirp, but a sleepy stillness is ubiquitous. 
“What?” you ask suddenly, whipping your head to face Steve. He’s drenched in gold, pale wisps of hair riding the breeze as he strolls. 
“I didn’t say anything.” 
“You’re staring at me. I feel it.” 
“I wasn’t,” he assures. 
You blink at him. You can’t decide whether to be annoyed at such an obvious lie or embarrassed by the truth. 
He jogs ahead before you’ve come up with something to say. Halfway to Holly, he shouts, “Come on, slowpoke!” 
It only takes one loop around the block for the heat to catch up. Holly complains incessantly about her helmet strap being too tight even after Steve fixes it and you’re itchy from sweat and mosquito bites. Steve’s, well, he might be the only content one. Happy even, guiding you home with a subtle bend to his lips and a soft glow tinting his cheeks. 
Holly whines about having to take a bath, and while you might negotiate it another night, you can see the damp line down her back. But like you suspect, all grievances are forgotten the second she gets in. She likes playing in the bath, even if she forgets it. It’s where she keeps her mermaid Barbie and her collection of rubber ducks, coincidentally all named Bob. 
And while bath time might tend to feel like more of a chore as a babysitter, tonight is different. It’s your last night at the Wheelers, and while that’s not new information, it is startlingly sad. You aren’t irritated when she splashes water in your eye or when she leaves a trail of it down the hall for you to clean. You can’t be, not when you know you’ll miss it. 
Steve helps you tuck Holly into Nancy’s bed. After pinky swearing that you’ll both return at your own bedtime, she drifts off easily. You’re thankful, of course, but a piece of you secretly hoped to be needed longer.  
“Must’ve been tired,” Steve whispers, pushing slowly off the bed. “You okay?” 
You nod, tearing your eyes from Holly to meet Steve’s. “Kinda sad.” You shrug, murmuring, “Stupid.” 
“It’s not.” He cups your shoulder and runs a warm hand up and down your arm. “Come on.” 
You take his hand and let him lead you across the hall and down the stairs. He pulls you onto the couch so you land pressed into the same cushion he’s on. “Y’know, babysitting Holly’s a breeze compared to the usual shitheads. We don’t have to worry about her taking my car keys or fighting interdimensional monsters or summoning a gate to hell,” he says. 
A soft laugh parts your lips. “Think Holly will put in a good word for us with her parents?” 
“You kidding? She loves us. Especially me,” he jokes. “Hate to break it to you but I’m definitely her favorite.” 
“No, you are not. Shut up.” 
He catches your fist mid-punch, cradling your hand like it’s made of wet sand. His thumb crosses each divot between your fingers, stroking up and down your knuckle slowly. “I’m sure they’ll ask us to babysit her again at some point.”
You hum in agreement. 
“Besides, we could expand our horizons. There’s like a million other children in Hawkins that need babysitting.” 
Your smile spills into your cheeks. “We?” 
“Yeah, I think we make a pretty damn good team. Don’t you?” 
“I do, but… we don’t have to limit our interactions to just babysitting, you know?” 
“What are you thinking? Dinner and a movie? Next weekend?” His eyes flick from your fingers to your face– to each eye, sweeping down the center of your nose, stopping right at your lips. 
You turn away in an attempt to soothe your heart as it pounds up to your ears. “Smooth, Harrington.” 
He reels you back in gently by the arm, confidence shining through his smile.“What? Did I read this wrong?” He knows he didn’t, he’s teasing you. 
“No,” you mumble, “You didn’t.” 
He leans in to whisper, “Can I kiss you then?” 
You nod, pushing into the soft press of his lips with your own. He’s not hesitant, nor is he harsh. Steve knows how to kiss, that much is clear. He trades your hand for your cheek, gently tilting your face to the side as he pulls away. 
Your eyes flutter open to a doting gaze. One that travels down the lines and slopes of your neck like they’re made of candy. Steve plants a second kiss on your lips, though fleeting in comparison to the first. But he plants several more to make up for it, working his way in a Z down your cheek, across your jaw, and back down your neck. They’re quick, ticklish little pecks of affection. A sweetness if you ever knew it. 
“Steve,” you admonish, though giggles betray your tone. The hands that frame his face glide gently down to his throat, your thumbs meeting at his Adam's apple. “We’re babysitting.” 
“I know,” he says, kissing your lips for a third time. “Just had to get a few extra in there. For all the times I thought about kissing you this weekend.” 
“Don’t say that.”
“Why?” He laughs, bubbly like you’ve surprised him. “It’s true. I thought about it all weekend.” 
You don’t know why you ask– why you even thought of it at a time like this– but you question him, “What about Nance?” 
“What about her?” 
“You don’t…” you trail off, afraid to even speak the possibility into existence. 
“We’re done. We have been. For a lot longer than I was willing to admit,” he admits honestly. 
“Yeah, but do you–”
“I don’t. Still have feelings for her. Not like that, anyway.” 
You meet his eyes, feeling a strange blend of emotions you can’t quite name.
“If you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to let me prove it to you,” he holds your gaze, warm with a sincerity that makes it hard to doubt him. 
“I believe you.” 
You let Steve kiss you several more times on that couch. He’s patient, deliberate, and more kind than you ever imagined he’d be. It’s hard to understand why Nancy would ever let someone like that go. 
ᯓ★
On Monday morning, you blink awake first, the comforting weight of a hand that’s not yours across your hip and another, much lighter one, at your belly. You turn over slowly, finding Steve and Holly wrapped around each other like ivy on trellis. You don’t imagine many people look this pretty asleep. The comb of long lashes kissing the soft flush in his cheeks. The golden lather of sunrise in each wild swoop of hair. The way his lips part for a sigh cuter than you knew one could be. 
He mumbles something unintelligible, sleep talk perhaps. 
You whisper back anyway, “What?” 
Steve sighs, smearing his cheek against the pillow. “Being a creeper.” 
“Me?” 
“Mhmm.” One eye slowly unbinds itself from sleep. Steve adores the tight-lipped smile on your face, broad with an infatuation he forgot could be aimed at him. His hand twitches at your side. 
“You just look so pretty when you sleep,” you admit. Is it too soon to say such things? 
His eye closes as he smiles, nosing into Holly’s hair, selfishly keeping it to himself. You reach across her body to find it, swiping a loving finger across his lips when you do. 
You stay in bed for as long as Holly will allow– which is not very long after she wakes up– but you don’t mind. You watch fondly as Steve helps her brush her teeth and as she helps Steve toast and butter the Eggos. Like Steve, Holly’s a good kid. They’re both helpers at heart. 
And you’re sure to remind Mrs. Wheeler of that when she rings the house to let you know they’re almost home. Holly’s excitement quickly dwindles into sadness the moment she realizes you won’t be staying. But she uses it to bargain one final game of hide and seek before you go. 
“Come on.” Steve drags you by the wrist, bustling upstairs to the bathroom. He throws the shower curtain aside and jumps in, offering his hand to help you after. You sit scrunched together, knee to knee on the porcelain floor, giggling like children. 
“Shhh,” you squeeze his kneecap. “You’re gonna get us found.” 
He jostles your shoulder, mouth agape. “You’re the one who’s laughing!” 
“No,” you insist, though the light in your eyes suggests otherwise. Curiosity sparks and the irrepressible urge to act on it wins. You lean in for a kiss, confirming that’s all it takes to shut Steve up. 
He tastes like maple syrup, loving with his lips as much as his hands. He pulls back for breath and returns for another peck, pressing into the corner of your mouth where your smile keeps drawing higher and higher. 
“Hard to kiss you when you're smiling.” 
“Can’t help it,” you defend. “Never been so happy.” 
He softens like warm icing, a sweet and gooey mess in your arms. But the shake of the front door closing stiffens him. 
“Mommy!” you hear quickly after. 
Steve scrambles up and over the lip of the tub, tugging you out with him. You follow him downstairs where Mrs. Wheeler swings Holly in her arms like she’s much smaller than she really is. Mr. Wheeler steers a suitcase silently through the entryway. 
“Did you have so much fun?” she asks Holly, peppering kisses across her temple. “Ohh, I missed you!” 
Holly revels in the affection overload, bending backward to giggle at you and Steve. 
Mrs. Wheeler grins. “How was she?” 
“Great, as always,” Steve assures. His cheeks are flushed, his hair mussed— though you could chalk that up to bedhead, not the aftermath of your short-lived makeout session.
You nod, adding, “We went swimming and to the park and–”
“IHOP!” Holly yells. “I got pancakes with chocolate chips and extra sprinkles!” 
“Did you? Sounds like you had a lot of fun.” Mrs. Wheeler plants Holly on her feet. “Can you give hugs? Say thank you for being such good babysitters?” 
Holly launches herself at Steve. He sends you a smirk over her shoulder, rocking her side to side in his embrace. You can just hear him say, I told you so. 
But she offers the same enthusiasm and more for you, dragging you onto the floor for a proper goodbye hug. “I don’t want you to go,” she pouts in your ear. 
“We’ll come back. We can have playdates?” 
“Can’t you just live in Nancy’s room? She’s never here anyway.” 
You can’t help but laugh. “I wish I could,” you admit honestly. 
She reluctantly loosens her grip on your shirt when you peel away. 
Mrs. Wheeler sees you and Steve off with a warm smile. Holly darts through her mother’s legs for one final hug on the porch. You wave goodbye, the moment slipping into something bittersweet before Steve bumps his shoulder into yours, a playful grin softening the farewell.
You dawdle up to your car, wringing your hands together when you reach the door. “So.”
“So,” he parrots. 
“This weekend, right?” 
His smirk blooms into a full smile. “Friday? Pick you up at seven?” 
“Okay,” you nod. 
“Okay,” he chuckles, clipping a hand around your jaw and leaning in. 
You turn away so the kiss skips across the softest stretch of your cheek. “Steve.” 
His eyes never leave your face as he assures you, “They’re not looking.” 
“Don’t be so sure.” 
Holly waves at you through the living room window, a smile as wide as her face. Steve’s hand falls down to his side and he takes a platonic step back. You both return her goodbye, but Holly stays, her little hand pressed to the glass. 
“Think she’ll tell?” Steve asks, not an ounce of worry in his tone. 
You shrug, tugging him back in by the waist for a proper kiss. “I guess it wouldn't be the end of the world.” 
2K notes · View notes
uzurakis · 1 year ago
Text
NEARLY C★UGHT IN THE ACT!
Tumblr media
featuring: fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. gojo satoru. geto suguru. (characters are all aged up)
NSFW MDNI. fuck! ya almost got caught screwing . .
n. been in the drafts for way too long.. cz i needa clear my reqs but idc! i’ve been wanting to write this for the longest time. enjoy my lovelies <3
Tumblr media
GOJO SATORU. “s-shit, how much i’ve missed this view,” gojo was sitting in his office desk, slighty pulling your hair to guide you to the rhythm he wanted. you felt yourself melting into him with his warm shaft in your mouth, ever soo big and too much for you, bobbing your head up and down.
just then, a sharp knock echoed through the room, startling you both. your heart raced as you instinctively tried to pull back from gojo. “s-satoru, we—“ his hand gripped your scalp more firmly than before, making you swallow his shaft until it hit the back of your throat. in other words, he didn’t fucking care. “just do your job, darling. and relax, they won’t come in.”
“even if they do come in, we’ll just say we were having a very hands-on discussion.”
Tumblr media
GETO SUGURU. “i’m sorry, princess,” he whispered beside your ear as he hit you raw from behind, both pressed against each other in the dim light of a public restroom. his hands gently putting your hair to the side, “i just, ngh, need you so badly,” whilst his lips found yours again, silencing any further protest.
the sound of footsteps outside the door made you freeze, heart pounding in your chest as the door handle rattled. “someone’s out t-there,” you tried to say as you held back the moans. yet not only your heart was pounding like crazy, it seemed your boyfriend was also still pounding your walls despite the chance you two will get caught screwing in public.
“j-just a little longer,” he pleaded as the groans left his lips again. “i can’t get enough of you.”
Tumblr media
ITADORI YUUJI. watching movies together was the original plan, until itadori’s cock twitched because you were sitting on his lap. your ass brushed against his bulge and that’s it. he couldn’t hold it any longer.
a split second later his boxers are on the floor, your panties pushed aside as he rocked your waist front and back. better than the movies, he thought, “i’m havin’ a nice view, baby.” you circled your hands on his shoulders when suddenly you heard a knock on the door. “shit,” itadori murmured as he panicked, slowing down the pace a bit. “i’ll handle this.”
“uh, 10 minutes! don’t come in!” he shouted deafeningly, you were certain that if the person still opened the door, they must have hearing problems to miss that loud shout. “see? problem solved. now, where were we?”
Tumblr media
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. with a frustrated groan, he hovered above you, laying your leg on one of his shoulders and pumping two digits in and out of your hole while he ran a hand through his hair. “why did you have to sneak in here? tsk,” a groan fell from his mouth, “you’re going to get us caught one of these days,” he grumbled, but his fingers playing around your pussy said otherwise.
“because i—ah,” you were the one squirming under his touch, “i-i wanted to be with you—“
“fushiguroo, are you there?” came the voice from the other side of the door. megumi sighed, his expression quickly shifting to one of annoyance. “busy!” he called out, forcing his other fingers over your throat to stop you from making any noise, and tried to keep his voice steady while fucking your insides. “idiot, just keep quiet, okay?”
Tumblr media
@uzurakis
4K notes · View notes
bloatedandalone04 · 7 months ago
Text
TikTok Trends
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
➪the one where drew is a little clueless in regards to your love for tiktok, and even more confused every time he finds himself thrown into another trend.
Warnings: fluff, swearing, drew being confused for 90% of this, mentions of smut, size difference, slightly younger reader (3 year age gap), there was going to be smut, but i am saving it for another fic.
Word Count: 3.2k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
Drew was laying on the king sized bed he shared with you, his sweatpant covered legs crossed as he lounged back on both his pillows and one of yours. His phone was in one of his hands, his thumb scrolling through the latest game results he missed last night when he was too busy fucking you into this very bed. 
He was oblivious to the way you were rummaging around in the dresser, though his eyes would occasionally flicker over to you as he scrolled. Tonight was date night, and he knew you would take a lot longer to get ready than he would, so he was staying in his sweats and hoodie until you were ready since he’d just throw something on and then be out the door within the same minute. You were being awfully quiet, and Drew was also oblivious to the way you had propped your phone up behind a picture frame, just out of view.
Drew’s free hand ran through his hair, his recent haircut making his scalp feel a little itchy, but he wasn’t complaining, because this haircut was what had you begging him to fuck you every night this week, so clearly it was working for you. 
“Hey, babe,” he murmured, not looking up from his phone. “Where do you want to go tonight? Anywhere you want, I don’t care, I just want to know if I should call in beforehand.”
You bit your lip as you adjusted your phone, your eyes shining with mischief as you moved away from the dresser. “I’m not sure,” you answered as you walked into the closet and grabbed the dark blue dress you were planning on wearing tonight. “Haven’t really thought about it.”
You had to hide your smile as you walked back into the bedroom and set the dress down on the bed next to Drew’s legs, and you had to ignore just how sexy he looked right now as you glanced over at your phone. 
Drew had never been one to be very active on social media in the two years you’ve been with him, so you knew for a fact that he would have no clue what you were about to spring on him. 
Reaching for the hem of your shirt, you bunched the material in your fingers before pausing, “Hey, baby,” you laughed, poking his knee as you swayed a bit on your feet. When Drew just let out a grunt, you continued, “Can you leave for a few minutes while I get dressed? I’ll be quick.”
You watched as Drew’s eyes flickered all over his phone’s screen before he hummed, moving to sit up. Just as his legs swung over the side of the bed, he seemed to have finally fully processed your words, because his eyes narrowed before he looked over at you. “Wait, what?” 
A laugh threatened to escape your mouth, but you managed to compose yourself before he could realize this was yet another trend he was currently being forced into. “Can you, like, get out for a sec? I need to get ready for tonight,” you asked again, gesturing to your shirt and sweats. 
One of his brows raised and he glanced down at your current outfit before looking over at your dress. “Uh, why?” he asked, sounding so genuinely confused, you almost cackled. “We live together, baby. I’ve seen you naked, like…a million times now.” 
You covered your mouth and crossed your arm over your chest as you tried to keep this going for as long as you could. “Just…please?”
Drew’s brows furrowed as he locked then set his phone down on the bed beside him, his fingers brushing against your thigh. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, reaching for your hand. His voice was so deep but so sweet right now, you felt yourself caving in already. “Tell me, baby.”
“It’s nothing,” you say, but your voice sounded unconvincing even to you. “I just don’t want you in here while I get changed.”
Drew narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the pillows once again, clearly making no move to get up and leave. “Babe, come on,” he mumbled, giving you a pointed look as you tried to keep up the act for a little longer, but he was the actor, not you. “We’ve lived together for half a year now. I’ve seen you take off clothes in front of me more times than I can count. What’s so different now?”
You had a sneaking suspicion that he was catching on, and you knew the act was pretty much up. Still, you tried to go for a little longer, “There’s no difference…” you trailed off, then saw the look of realization flash in his pretty blue eyes. 
“Oh, I get it,” he muttered, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he looked up at you. “This is another TikTok thing, isn’t it?” 
You furrowed your brows and shook your head, but he had caught you. “No,”
Drew grunted and nodded his head, “Uh huh, where’s your phone?” he asked, glancing around the bedroom as you tried to think of a way to salvage your prank. 
“It’s not a TikTok thing-”
“Come on, where is it?” he cut you off, his tone light and relieved as he now knew that nothing was wrong and this was just him falling for another trend going around on an app he didn’t even have installed. 
With a huff, you nodded towards the dresser, and Drew shifted a bit so he could see your well-hidden phone behind the picture frame. 
“I fucking knew it,” he laughed, rubbing his hands over his face as he leaned back again. “Why do I keep falling for these things?”
“Because you’re old and refuse to use social media,” you mumbled, reaching for your phone and ending the video. 
He scoffed from behind you, reaching over to wrap his hand around one of your thighs. “I’m only three years older than you, brat,” he muttered, pulling you towards him. “I’m not nearly old enough for you to call me that.” 
“Three and a half,” you hummed, your attention quickly slipping from your phone as you let him turn you around and pull you to stand in between his legs. Your free hand caressed his jaw, his stubble pricking your fingertips as you gazed down at him, “Can’t forget the half.”
Drew hummed, leaning in to press his face against the front of your shirt. “Mm, right,” he rasped, leaning back on the bed and pulling you with him so you are straddling his waist. “Can’t forget the half.”
You dropped your phone onto the bed next to his, both devices quickly being forgotten about as you braced your hands flat on the sheets on either side of his head, your lips finding his in a deep kiss that quickly turned into something a lot more heated. 
-
“You’re not doing it right,” you whined, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you walked towards your phone to restart the recording. 
After finding a trend that would actually involve Drew participating in it, you decided to give him a break from all the prank trends you pull on him and asked if he wanted to try this couple trend you saw all over your for you page. Surprisingly enough, he agreed to. You assumed he was probably tired of falling for the pranks all the time, so this way he could be fully aware of what was happening. 
With that being said, even though he was an amazing actor, he fucking sucked at following directions. 
“What do you mean I’m not doing it right?” he asked, holding his arms out as he watched you set your phone back up against the TV stand. “I’m picking you up, am I not? Is that not what I’m supposed to do here?”
You rolled your eyes and bit back a laugh as you stood back up straight and moved towards him. “No, you’re supposed to flip me upside down,” you said, “Did you even watch the video I sent you?” 
“I watch all the videos you send me,” he mumbled, glancing over at your phone before stepping closer to you. “Just tell me what to do, okay?”
You grinned and moved to stand in front of him, and you reached behind you to take Drew’s wrists in your hands. “Just hold me here,” you instructed, placing his big hands on your hips as you both faced the camera. “Then lift me and turn me upside down.” 
“That’s it?” he asked, giving your hips a teasing squeeze as he dipped his head down and pressed a firm kiss to your temple. “What if I drop you?”
You look over your shoulder at him and raise your brow, “Well, don’t,”
Drew laughed, the deep sound rumbling against your back as you looked at your phone. “Alright, ready?” he asked, and you nodded. Drew bent his knees slightly, ensuring he had a good grip on you, before he straightened back up again and easily lifted you off the ground. 
That was the easy part though, but after a few seconds, he managed to turn you upside down so your legs were by his shoulders and your head was by his knees. “Yay, baby!” you squealed, holding onto his arms tightly as he dangled you above the floor. 
Drew let out another deep laugh as he held you securely in place, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist. “Is this it?” 
“Yes,” you answer, helplessly swaying in his hold as you look at your phone from your upside down angle. “I hope it turned out well. I don’t want to do this again.”
“Why not?” Drew asked, locking his arms around your thighs as he swayed you even more, making another quiet squeal leave your lips. “Now that I know what to do, this is easy.” 
Your grip tightened on his arms as you held on for dear life, a soft whine escaping your mouth. “Drew,”
He laughed and stilled before managing to guide your legs down until you were upright again. “Alright,” he grinned, steadying you with his hands on your waist. “Are we good?”
You nodded and leaned into his touch for a few seconds before moving away to grab your phone. After ending the video, you clicked on it to make sure it came out okay, and as you did so, Drew came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 
“How’d it turn out?” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder as he glanced down at your phone as well. 
“Good,” you answered, playing the video and watching with a dumb smile on your face as your boyfriend effortlessly picked you up and managed to do the trend rather successfully. Turning your head, you pressed a quick kiss to his chin, “Thank you.”
Drew hummed, kissing you properly as his hands splayed across your belly. “‘Course,” he mumbled, kissing you again before looking back down at your phone. “You look so small, baby. Send that to me.”
You grinned and nodded as he stepped away from you and towards the doorway. “You could see it on my TikTok if you actually had the app,” you pointed out as you sat down on the couch. 
“Not happening,” he called over his shoulder before giving you a teasing smirk and leaving the room. 
As you watched the video again and matched it up with the song it would go with, you bit down on your lip, because Drew looked really hot in it, and it was extremely obvious how fit and strong he is since he lifted you up with ease. 
You could only imagine all the comments you’d get, and all of them would be girls thirsting over your boyfriend. 
-
The ‘calling your boyfriend friend names’ prank was all that was currently on your for you page on your TikTok, and you knew after watching the first one that you were going to do it to Drew. 
Your poor, unsuspecting boy who was really never safe as long as you had access to the app, or any app for that matter, because he was just too easy.
Drew was laying back on the bed, one arm propped behind his head as he browsed through various movies on Netflix, his gaze fixated on the TV that was mounted on the wall above the dresser. 
He looked so focused as he tried to find something to watch, and you knew he was looking for something that you would like since you and he had very different tastes when it came to movies. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do. 
Almost. 
“Dude, just pick a movie already,” you laughed from your spot on your side of the bed, discreetly angling your phone to capture his entire upper body without making it look obvious. 
Drew’s head turned in your direction, one of his brows raising as his thumb paused on the remote. “I’m trying to,” he muttered, squinting his eyes at you, “Dude.”
You held in your snort and shook your head, looking back up at the TV. “I don’t care what we watch, man,” you mumbled and felt him shift next to you, but you kept your eyes locked on the screen. “Just pick something.”
The remote was set down on the bed between your body and his, and when you glanced up at him, he was softly glaring at you, “I will, once you call me by my actual name instead of dude or man,” 
You actually laughed, but this one fit in well, “Okay, Drew,”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” he groaned, moving towards you and dropping his head to your chest. He presses his face against your cleavage as you reach over and prop your phone up on the nightstand. “Call me what you always call me.”
You grinned as you draped your arms around his shoulders. “Aw, buddy,” 
Drew’s head had never snapped up faster than it did when you said that. “Why are you calling me that?” he asked, placing his hands flat against the bed on either side of your hips as he pushed himself back up so he was kneeling beside your still reclined form. “Baby, what’s going on?”
You pressed your lips together as you reached up and cradled his pretty face in your hands. “Nothing,” you answered, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. 
Drew gave you a skeptical look before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. His big hands found your hips as he deepened it, his tongue brushing against yours, and you returned his kiss like you always do. “Are you sure?” he murmured against your mouth, and you knew your knees would’ve buckled if you were standing up from how deep and sexy his voice is. 
But you couldn’t think about that right now, and you realized you would have to edit that intense kiss out of the video so TikTok didn’t flag you, which would suck. “I’m sure,” you confirmed, then fucked with him further, “Everything’s all good, pal.”
Drew gave you a look of disbelief as he pulled away and sat back on his knees again. “Pal? Did you seriously just call me pal?” he gaped at you, his brows drawn together in confusion and something that looked a lot like betrayal. “Babe, what the fuck did I do? I know you’re mad at me, you keep calling me all these random names. Tell me what I did.”
You laughed and shook your head, pushing yourself up so you were sitting in front of him. “You didn’t do anything, Drew,” you assured him, but could tell that your words had very little effect on him. “I promise.”
His eyes narrowed as he glared at you, moving back to his original spot on his side of the bed. “Then stop calling me dude or pal,” he muttered, picking the remote back up and lifting his arm so you could cuddle against his side. 
You actually did snort this time as you crawled over to him, “Okay, bro,” you mumbled as you slid under his arm, but as soon as the name left your lips, Drew was standing up from the bed and looking down at you with his hands on his hips. 
“Bro? Bro?” he echoed, “No, something is definitely wrong here. What is happening right now, Y/n? Are you breaking up with me or something?”
You let out a loud laugh as you rolled onto your side. “No,” you answered, shaking your head as you looked up at him. “I’m not breaking up with you, Drew. Why would I do that?”
He sounded a bit desperate now as he braced one knee on the edge of the bed and asked, “Then why are you calling me dude and bro and pal? You’ve never called me those names before,” he rambled, “That’s what you call a friend, baby, not your boyfriend.”
“I know,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows as you looked up at him, and after getting another look at his handsome, yet so obviously confused face, you caved. “That’s what the prank is, babe. I call you names I’d call a friend.”
Drew’s brows furrowed, then he was looking around the bed for your phone, and when he glanced at the nightstand, he let out a loud groan. “Oh for fucks sake,” he grunted, rubbing his hands over his face as you laughed and moved to retrieve your phone. “I thought we were breaking up or something. Why do I keep falling for this shit?” 
You shrugged, “I don’t know. Guys are just so easy,” you answered, “And unless you cheat on me or something, I’m never breaking up with you.”
Drew dropped his hands to his sides as he joined you back on the bed. “And I’m never cheating on you,” he rasped, straddling your thighs as he placed his hands on your waist. “But how many more times are you going to do this to me? This one was fucked up.”
You laughed as you ended the recording, then gasped when you felt how hot his skin was. “Drew,” you say with wide eyes, “You’re, like…sweating.”
“I know I am,” he said, his fingers pushing up your shirt as his hands ran along the skin of your stomach. “I told you, I thought you were breaking up with me. I was panicking.” 
You smiled up at him, letting him take your phone from you and toss it onto the end of the bed. “I would never,” you promised, and Drew wrapped his fingers around your wrists, guiding your hands up to rest on his chest as he gazed down at you with an intense stare. 
“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, and it was clear that the hunt for a movie to watch was now postponed. His eyes were even darker when he pulled away, his nose bumping gently against yours. “I love you.”
You whimpered quietly as you slid your hands up into his hair. “I love you too,” 
Then he was pressing himself against you completely, and soon enough, you were sweating too.
2K notes · View notes
xetlynn · 8 months ago
Text
Arcane Imagines- Vander
It’s Quiet
Tumblr media
⚠️WARNING🔞: SMUTTTT IF THERE WAS EVER SMUT
[arcane] [main page] [pt. 2]
Prompt: it’s grown so quiet since the kids have grown… (not requested, did this at my own free will. Also happy universe WITH VI because I can do that.)
Containing: thigh riding, multiple orgasms, fem!receiving oral, male!receiving oral, hike position, voyeurism, exhibitionism, praise, slight degradation.
“And that’s the last drunk of the evening.” You wipe your hands together after slamming down your rag on one of the tables you had just finished cleaning, going over to the door to turn the open sign to closed. Vander chuckles, cheering as he washes the last few glasses. You go behind the counter to join him in wiping everything down since it gets pretty sticky especially behind the bar. 
“Gosh it’s been so busy these last few days.” You huff, putting your body into the scrubbing. Feeling all the sweat that drenched your back, neck and face. You felt disgusting to say the least. “Mm yeah but think about that early retirement.” He jokes causing you to laugh in response. “So true!” You perk up, glancing behind you, his eyes already locking with yours. 
He places his glass down and scrummages over to you. His hands snaked around your waist. “You’re so beautiful.” He kisses the back of your head. You would normally lean into his touch but the sweat that enveloped all over you. You swiftly move away from him by turning around and taking his arms off of you. “I feel gross, babe.” You shake your head at his intentions.
“How come? You look ravishing.” His eyes darken along with his voice that laced with lust. “I’m so sweaty.” You whine, walking out from the bar to sit on one of the stools. “I feel like I just got dragged through mud.” You muster out, finally getting to sit down for the first time in 12 hours that day. 
“You’d still be the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on covered in dirt head to toe.” He leans over the bar as you scoff, rolling your eyes at his cheesy choice of words. “It’s the truth.” He puts his hands up in defense. You sigh. “I would like a shower first.” You mumble. 
He observes you as your eyes wander around the building seeing if there was anything else for you to do before the both of you chose to go home. “It’s so quiet in here.” You suddenly mention the lack of noise. “Well it’s just the two of us in here.” He shrugs his shoulders. You give him a dirty look. “I mean the fact that there’s no little Powder running around here with Ekko. No Mylo antagonizing his siblings. Claggor just being along for the ride. Violet attempting to show Mylo how to flirt.” You explain with sadness traced in your tone of voice. 
“Hmph,” He snorted out a laugh remembering the children as young teenagers. “They were something.” He shakes his head. “I miss them living with us.” You pout, he groans at your words knowing what is going to be next. The both of you took the children in young. Felicia has Vi and Powder quite young. Being only 18 with little Violet and 23 with Powder. 
Vander’s the same age as Felicia as you were two years younger than the both of them. You didn’t meet them until after Violet was two years old. Now Vi is 23 and Powder is 18. You are now 39 and Vander is 41. 
“I’m just saying! I don’t have much time!” You exclaim, grasping at his hand, practically begging for a child. “Zaun is good, better than it ever has been. Let’s dooo ittttt.” You bounce your legs for extra effect in pleads. “Love, you’ve never wanted children of your own. Why now?” He raises his brows, now fully enclasping your hand with both of his. 
Your stomach flutters at the size difference between the both of you. You could never get over it, not even with the nearly 20 years of being with one another. “I just,” you frown before continuing. “With the children being older and like I mentioned it being quiet… I want someone to depend on me again. Those sweet little eyes as they ask me to help them.” Your face grows sour, tears stinging at the brim of your eyes. “This could be my last chance to have that. And you’ve never wondered what our baby would look like?” You ask him with puppy-dog eyes. “I miss the old times. Not just with the kids.” You mutter. 
“Of course I have, but if that’s how you feel, love… I’m sorry to tell you but I just can’t give you that. A baby with the way we work. And if you need someone to depend on you, I’ll be that for you. I’ll ask for more help, meaning like little things at home that I know you miss doing.” He massages your hand, kissing at it a few times. You purse out your lips, knowing he was right. 
“Are you okay?” He tilts his head, a few strands of hair falling in his face. You nod your head, not verbally responding though. He lets go of your hand and joins you on the stools. “I’m sorry you’re upset, my love. I never want to see your lips fall downwards.” He pulls you onto his lap and you look into his eyes. 
“I’ll be okay, I guess I’ll just have to be patient until we are blessed with grandchildren.” Your head falls against his chest, wrapping your arms around his large torso. “Hopefully that’s not anytime soon.” Vander smacks your thigh and you snicker. 
“Yeah, yeah.” You smile, you always loved how protective he was over your guys’ family. You feel your arousal thicken in your gut. Feeling needier. 
You have to remind yourself that you need to take a shower first. That’s what you told yourself. Even though your husband definitely does not care about you being sweaty. You care. 
“We could always… pretend like I’m going to give you children.” He whispers in your ear, your body tensing up. It’s like he felt your pussy flutter for him even though you both wore thick clothing and it wasn’t possible. “Mmm, that’s an idea.” You watch his thick, large hand sliding up and down the outside of your thigh. “Gonna let me do it right here, right now? Just like the old days?” He questions, he was breathing heavily down your neck causing the hairs there to stand up at the feeling. 
“Remember how we’d pretend there were people still. Go behind that counter and I’d fuck you from behind as you ‘took someone’s order.’ huh?” He knows all the right buttons to push when it comes to you. He knew what you couldn’t resist. He knew how to get you riled up like no one else. 
Your face was flushed as he reminded you of those moments you had before you even took the children in. That was such a long time ago you were surprised he remembered. “How ‘bout we try that out again?” He nibbles at the tip of your ear causing you to whine. 
“Van- shower first. I told you.” You rub yourself against him, spite of what you were saying. “You were just saying how you miss old times… Let me help you relive a few things.” His fingers now dipping in between your legs. The seam of the jeans you wore were sitting in the right place too. It was too much. 
“Please~” You moan, gripping onto his forearm that held your form. “Please what?” He asks.
��I-I need you.” You moved yourself so you were now sitting on one of his thighs. Looking right into his grey orbs. “What about that shower though?” He teases you, watching you ride against him. Only to pleasure yourself. How selfish. “Fuck the shower.” You grab him by the back of his neck, forcing him into a deep kiss. 
He laughs into the kiss, amused by how turned on you got just by his words. He knew you too well. 
You go to stop your hips so you could get up but he stops you. “Uh-uh, ride my leg until you cum, love.” He holds your hips down. You give him a pout. “Do it or I'll have the night end right here and we can just go to that shower and right to bed.” It was an empty threat. You knew that but listened to him nonetheless. Your pelvis planting down on him. You roll back and forth on him. 
“Fuck, love. You’re so gorgeous.” He coos, getting your hair out of your face. You pant as you focus on reaching your high, hearing his words only drenching your already soaked cunt. Going right through those jeans of yours and onto his black slacks. 
Your hands were grabbing onto the top of his thigh, close to his cock that twitched as it was trapped underneath his now tight pants. Just begging to be free. “I- hah!” You grunted, squeezing your thighs against his. “What is it? What do you have to say?” He inquires with a hint of mocking you. 
“Mmngg, I want to kiss you!” You breathe out, eyes squeezed shut due to how determined you were to release on your husband's enormous muscled thigh. 
“What’s the magic word?” His hand goes to your neck, pressing lightly. “Mean, ‘s mean,” you whimper. “Not the answer.” He tsks, bouncing his knee a little bit to throw you off. You cry out, hands flailing to his shirt. Clutching it tightly in between your fingers. 
“Please let me kiss you, please! I just want to kiss my husband.” You sob, opening your eyes for him to see how much you needed it. He thinks for a moment but decides to give you what you want. 
The hold on your neck only gets tighter as his lips embrace yours. He bites at your lip producing a gasp out of you so he can roughly stick his tongue in your mouth. His tongue battling against yours. You didn’t even try as he had already invaded your muzzle, exploring it like it was his home. 
As you feel yourself get closer you weigh down further onto him, your hips at a lively, unyielding pace. You pull away as your attention needs to go back to your own core. His hand on your throat now gripping, helping you even more. The tension in your chest and head growing. “Fuck.” It was almost inaudible exiting past your lips. 
“Mhm, you can do it. My wife is so persistent. Such a hell-bent little thing.” He purrs in your ear. “Hah! Mmm.” You groan out, holding his wrist that clutched at your pretty open neck. 
And then that explosion of fireworks in your tummy at last comes. Your hole creaming, joining your arousal juices. Only wetting yours and your husbands pants 
His hand breaks free from your airway, allowing you to breathe once more. You pant heavily against him. “Shit.” Your legs shake underneath you. “You have fun there?” He pokes at you, you glare up at him. “Shut up.” You spit, weakly standing up. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Vander raises a brow, grabbing your waist, stopping you from crouching down. “I-I’m going to give you a blow job?” You said in more of a inquisitive tone, confused on how it’s not obvious. “I never said I was done with you.” He stands up from the stool, lifting you up with ease. You yelp from the sudden move. 
He places you on the counter. “I’d like dinner first.” Even being on a tall bar counter he was still wavering over you. “Where people drink?!” You utter out, reminding him what people do on this very countertop. “I’ll clean it up. No one will ever know.” He rolls his eyes. 
Before you could even argue with him his hands are back on you. You subconsciously lift your hips up helping him undress you. “Never get over the sight of this cute girl.” He compliments your pussy. Your thighs squish together, hiding yourself only to be pried back open. 
Your hands were behind you to keep yourself fully propped up. “This position isn’t really comfortable, Vannie.” You mewl, the top of your tailbone was slightly hurting. “I’ll have to make this fast then won’t I?” He asks, not even looking up at your face as he sits back down. Sliding your butt as close to the edge of the counter as possible. 
He adjusted the chair so he was at face level with that pretty little pussy. 
His face diving in but not doing anything so he can take in your scent. Feeling like a feral animal. You would’ve been embarrassed by this if he hadn’t done it almost every day for the past 20 years. You rest your legs over his shoulders, ankles crossed over one another, trapping his head at your core. 
“Stop teasing, Vander.” You sternly tell him, glaring down at him since he decided he was going to take his time. His dilated pupils lift upwards, mouth hovering over your clit. “Is that any way to talk to your dear partner who only wants to take care of you?” He asks, his facial hair tickling you down there. 
You lay your back down on the cold wood. Ignoring him. 
He snickers, now kitten licking at your clit. Toying with it until he hears the squelch after a few more. His tongue swirls around the nub, kissing it every now and then. His strategy was purely for his own enjoyment. Your moans filled the building, echoing and bouncing off the walls. 
“Imagine we didn’t lock the door.” He comments. “Imagine someone walks in thinking we’re open. And you’re getting eaten out right in front of them.” His mouth reattaching to your cunny. 
Ambushing every nerve with pleasure. 
“Fuck! I ho-pe someone doesss!” Your hands go down to his hair, pulling out the bun. “Yeah, you’d like the attention.” He mumbles into you, the vibration shooting through you. 
“Mhm… mhm!” Your chest jolts upwards as his tongue swipes over your sensitive spot. “I n-need your fiiingers!” You wail, playing with his hair so you have something to pull on. Not having anything else around you. 
Your head was upside down off the other side of the counter. “Need ‘em where, love?” He irritatingly asks you. “I-inside! Inside!’ You squeal out, toes scrunching and your calves stretching out at the same time.
His right hand joins his mouth, entering a single digit into that drenching, achy hole. 
His cock screaming to be let free now. His pre-cum drooling onto his boxers. 
You clench around the single but large finger. He enters another before pumping them in and out. Curling every so often to hit that perfect spot inside. Your moans and whines keeping him going. His jaw was certainly going to be locked after this. 
He says random compliments you can’t even understand against your pussy. You didn’t even care enough to hear anyways. Feeling his mouth along with his fingers abusing you. 
“I- how? Fuck!” You scratch as his scalp, bringing one of your hands to your shirt, ripping the buttons off to open it.  You had a few others. 
You own hand kneads at your breasts. “C’mon, make me cum, make me cum!” You pant, chest heaving rapidly. “Almost there?” He watches you grope yourself. He leers gleefully. “Fuck yes!” You nod your head only to let it fall back down off the counter. 
His fingers fucking your skillfully, your cunt splashing liquid on him along with the floor. 
“Close ‘s close!” You grit through your teeth, rolling your hips on his face, bringing him closer to you with the back of your calf. Shoving his head onto you. 
“O-ooohh… mmmm….” It hits you softer than the first time surprisingly, but your cunny still spurts into Vander’s mouth. Your thighs shake against his head, your feet dropping tiredly. “That was so good, love. So proud of you.” He kisses your soft skin, lifting your thighs off of him letting your legs fall on either side of him. 
You breathe heavily, now feeling all the blood that rushed to your head from it being upside down. You sit yourself up, using your husband's shoulders to keep you from slipping forward. He undoes his belt, unbuttoning his pants to take his cock out. Still keeping his clothes up though. 
“C’mere.” He huffs out a laugh, standing up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. His hands are squeezing at the plush skin of your ass. 
He takes you to the inside of the bar, his cockhead poked at your entrance with each step. “Tired girl?” He hums out a question. You shake your head, disagreeing. “No, want more.” You rasp out. Humping your hips downwards against his dick. 
“Need you to help me first, prove how much you want me to fuck you.” He ambushes your neck with his licked lips. “I’ll do anything.” You whisper. 
“Good, here comes the guy who brings our stock.” Vander smirks, your eyes widen and you drop to the ground, hiding under the counter even though he already couldn’t see you by being down there. Vander steps as close as possible to you, his chest against the wood. 
His cock was free game to you. “Heyy Mick!” Vander cheerfully grins, not feeling you touch him just yet. He also knew that your pants and little panties were laid out on the ground, available for Mick to see. 
“Hey, hey, hey!” Mick comes into the bar with a dollie of alcohol boxes. “Where’s the wife?” He asks, coming over to the counter. “Oh, she’s a little bit under… the weather tonight.” Vander lies. 
Your heart was raising at the fact that there was now another person in the bar after you had just came twice. Your view trapped in darkness besides the little bit of light that snuck past your husband's legs. His dick still sprung out for you to play with. 
Your pussy clenches around nothing, another realization that your pants were where you two once were moments ago. You silently prayed that Mick didn’t notice it. Your husband’s and your guys’ stocker’s conversation was tuned out. You couldn't focus on anything that was happening. 
Besides the fact that you were going to now get revenge on the person in front of you. Your hands go around his thick member. Dry rubbing him at first. You hear his hiss and you smile mischievously. Your thumb swiping across the slit covered in Vander’s own goo. 
Your hands let him go, as Vander talks his shoulders dropped disappointed only momentarily before your mouth replaces where your hands once were. He bites his lip trying not to show his expressions. 
Your muzzle takes him in all the way, nose almost touching his pelvic zone. You let him go before you gag, sucking on his tip. Your hand massages the base of his cock. 
You hear his voice falter just a tiny bit. “Where do you want them tonight, boss?” Mick asks, talking about the boxes of glass bottles filled with booze. “Just on the counter, Claggor and Mylo are opening in the morning. Gonna have them stock up.” Vander chuckles. Doing his best not to let his voice waver in the slightest. You tried your damnedest too. 
“Arighty.” Mick lifts the boxes up, continuing to talk to the owner of the bar, not knowing he was getting his dick sucked so good his knees were about to give out. 
Your other hand began to fondle his balls, now all three stimulates attacking him at once. Vander lets out a low grunt that luckily wasn’t heard from either of the people in the building. 
“I gotta get going, now. Good seeing ya! Hope to see [Name] next week!” Mick kicks out his dollie, rolling it out as Vander waves him goodbye. 
And as that door shuts, his mouth opens, letting out all the noises he couldn’t before. “Fuck, I almost had to shout at him to leave.” Vander groans, taking a fist full of your hair to fuck himself into your mouth. You moved your hand out of the way, grabbing onto his thigh for support. 
“Shit, such a doll for me.” He drags your mouth down his member before pulling you away by your hair. He steps back. “Stand up.” He motions. You crawl out from your spot, standing up before him. 
“Turn around.” He spins his pointer finger. 
He watches your ass jiggle with each step, his hands roughly bend you over. Your hands hitting the floor. “Need this.” He puffs out, shoving his dick inside your hole without warning. 
“So perfect for me, after all these years. It’s like the first time all over again.” He ruts into you forcefully. Your fingernails claw at the ground as he fucks into you at an unfathomable pace. 
“Take it like the fucking champ you are.” He smacks your ass causing you to scream out a moan. “Fucking you stupid, ain’t I?” He laughs, holding your hips. Each time you try to lift your torso up he rams into you, watching you fall back down each time. It was amusing. He enjoyed it every single time. 
“I asked you a question.” He slaps your ass again. 
“Y-yes! ‘Stupid, ‘s ‘stupid!” You cry out, your head shaking side to side as tears brim your eyelids. “Gonna cum again!” You shrill. 
“Yeah you are.” He pants, finally helping you up by bending down to grab you by your neck. Your back up against his stomach. “Who’s making you cum for the third time?” He asks, your ass bouncing back on his black slacks. There were white splatters all over his pants from tonight. “Y-you a-re!” You seeth, sucking in your own drool. 
“What’s my name?” He tightens his grip on your throat, you gasp out for air. Not able to answer as fast as he wants you to. His cock pistoning in and out of you. 
“What’d I ask?” His other hand holds your lower stomach, the pressure now pressing on his cock through your tummy. “I- u-um! V-vander!” You choke out. “That’s right, doll.” He lets go of your neck but still keeping you close as he continues to fuck you. 
“Gonna fuck my seed into you, maybe there’s a chance you’ll get that baby.” He snorts out a laugh, thrusting into you. Your eyes roll back into your head. “Cummingggnghah!!” You shriek, your hands behind you, gripping onto his shirt. 
“H-huh- same.” He breathes heavily, getting a little slower and sloppier. His tip oozing out inside of you. Your walls spasm around him leading a domino effect, Vander fully plunged inside of you as he lets his semen shoot inside you. Your jaw slacks open at the feeling.
You wiggle yourself against him, trying to get as much of him as possible. He pushes the both of you forward, you lean over the wooden counter. A box hiding your face from the door. 
“Holy shit…” You quietly whined, your legs were shaking and very weak. Barely keeping yourself standing. His slips out of you, letting the mixture of yours and his cum drop to the ground from your cunny. 
“You took me so well. So good every time.” He praises you, rubbing your back. 
Afterwards he takes you to your shower, water already running. You sat on the floor waiting for him in the hot water as he cleaned up your guys’ mess the two of you made.
2K notes · View notes
satoruan · 8 months ago
Text
ONE LAST TIME — GETO SUGURU & GOJO SATORU
✧ ˒ — you’ve been invited to your old fuck buddy's wedding and the best man feels that the three of you have unfinished business.  
( TW ) Fem!reader. explicit content. porn with some feelings (not rlly but also rlly). reader is a slut. cheating. mentions of reader sleeping with other people. MFM. spit roasting. blow job. P -> V. unprotected sex. cream pie. face riding. fingering. squirting.  
word count - > 2.2k  
author note. the last time I’ll re upload this fic 😔 tumblr hates it for some reason!!
Tumblr media
Satoru had been sending you winks and sly smirks throughout the night. He finally has the balls to text during the middle of the feast.  
Satoru: Enjoying the wedding?
you: Yep! Best wedding I’ve been to.
Satoru: So, you aren’t the slightest bit jealous?
you: Jealous? And why would I be? The only one jealous here is you because ‘Sugu is getting married before you’.
Satoru: Pchss I don’t want to be held down and forced to fuck one person for the rest of my life, wouldn’t you agree y/n?
you: Shut up, that was so long ago, you’re the only one who remembers or cares about that.
Satoru: I doubt that.
you: Doubt all you want Toru. Suguru and I are over It so let go. It’s been years.
Satoru: So, if I told you ‘Sugu invited you because he wanted one last night with you?
you: Shut up Toru, he’s married.
You cross your legs and look up, automatically spotting Satoru sitting at one of the tables up front, absorbed in his phone. You quickly look away and scan the room, where you find Geto. Your face heats up as you notice him staring at you intently, clearly ignoring his wife, who is trying to get his attention. Feeling flustered, you hurriedly lower your gaze back to your phone.
Satoru: I’m not lying! He even told me at his bachelor party that he misses the old days...
The old days when you spent your college years filled with their cum. You had a cock stuffed inside of you almost every day. The boys weren’t always available, so you had to get creative.   
Satoru: Meet me in the bathroom?’
you: Nope, I told you I’ve changed.
Satoru: Stop lying y/n.
you: I’m not!
Satoru: Then what were you doing with Nanami and his friends?  
You choke on your spit, how did he—you were going to kill Nanami the next time you saw him. You didn’t think anyone else had seen you leave the office that night. Fuck. Fuck. You were absolutely going to kill him. You glance back up and make eye contact with Satoru, who tilts his head and licks his lips. His white hair falls into his face. He looks so utterly fuckable.   
Satoru: You want me to beg? Tell you how much I missed your tight pussy and pouty lips?
‘Keep talking…’ You text. Fuck it. You missed Satoru too, it’s been years, and it wasn’t as if you parted on bad terms—you wouldn’t mind fucking him one more time. One last time, as a goodbye.  
Satoru: Miss your cute little moans and your tight ass and how your pretty little hands looked wrapped around my cock. I miss the cuddles after it. I miss everything, pretty girl.
you: One more time Satoru. This is the last time! 
Satoru: meet me at the family bathroom in 5 ;) 
—  
“Fuckin’ missed you.” Satoru groans into your mouth, throwing you onto the counter. You wrap your legs around his wide hips as he grabs your hair. “Toru, don’t fucking mess up my hair, what do you think they’ll say when I come out with a bird’s nest instead of my fancy wedding hair.”  
“Sorry, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, moving his hands to your waist. You pull him closer to you. The familiarity of his hands and mouth on you makes you melt.
Satoru breaks away and sinks to his knees. He pushes your sheer lilac dress up above your ass and rolls his eyes back into his head.  
“Missed this pussy.” He inhales. Thumbing your clit above your white lace panties. You grab onto his hair and moan.   
“Toru—”  
“Shh—let me show you how much I’ve missed this pussy sweet girl,” He leans in to lick your damp panties. “Show me.”  
Desperate for an orgasm you obey, sliding the flimsy lace to the side and parting your slick pussy with two fingers. Satoru leans in immediately to lick you entirely.   
“Satoru!” You cry, the grip his hair tightening as he eats you like a starved man. You fall back onto the mirror and hump his face as he sucks your clit.  
“Gonna cum Toru! Don’t stop, please, please, don’t stop!” You slur, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he stuffs three thick fingers into your achy cunt. He curls them to hit your g-spot, the spot that he discovered existed long ago.   
“M’cumming!” You moan removing your hand from your pussy to grip the edges of the counter. Your pussy convulses around Satoru's fingers.  
“Not gonna stop ‘till you squirt for me,” He mumbles against your clit. “You can do it—good girl.” He goes back to sucking your clit. It doesn’t take long until you're squirting all over his face. Eyes squeezed shut and ears ringing, you don’t notice that someone walks into the large restroom because the man between your legs never locked the door.  
“Was I not invited to the party?” Suguru shoots the two of you.   
You pull yourself up, your legs swinging around Satoru's head.
“Sugu!” You squeak.  
Satoru tries to say something, but he’s trapped between your thighs.
“No, Sugu, we were just getting started. Isn’t that right, pretty?” He coughs, standing up with a soaked shirt and a glistening face. He grins at his Suguru.
He pulls his gaze away from his best friends and looks at you. You're staring at him with wide eyes, your legs tightly closed as if he’s never seen what’s between them before. He steps closer to you. “Is that right, y/n?” You suck in a breath and nod.
“Y-yes.”   
“Then why are you hiding that slutty pussy from me.”   
“You’re a taken man now ‘Sugu–”   
“And that's gonna stop you?”  
“Why don’t you go fuck your wife?” You snap, crossing your arms over your chest and returning your attention to Satoru. “Are we gonna finish this or what?”   
“Don’t look away from me, y/n,” Suguru says, crossing the space between you and grasping your chin. “She’s nothing like you—too traditional and stuck up. She doesn’t hold a candle to you.”  
“Yeah?” You blink up at him through wet lashes, your heart fluttering. You uncross your legs and slowly lift them to Suguru's thick hips.
“Nothing—no one compares,” he says as he draws your face closer to his.
“Do you promise?” you whisper shyly, your lips brushing against his.
“Promise,” he teases before catching your swollen lips. Your back arches, legs clinging to his suit-clad waist. His lips taste like watermelon-scented Chapstick—it must be his wife's. You bite his bottom lip and giggle at the thought.
“How long you got before your wifey comes lookin’ for you?” Satoru asks.  
“Not long, about ten minutes at most.” Suguru rolls his eyes, catching your lips again.   
“You gonna take me in the mouth and let ‘Sugu fuck your cunt, angel? Think you can get us off in ten minutes?”   
“Sith time to spare.” You smirk up at Satoru who smiles and starts to unbuckle his pants. His heavy cock jumps out, tip leaking precum.  
“Come here then, sweetheart.” Suguru pulls you off the counter and flips you towards Satoru. He pushes you down until you are folded at the waist. You grab onto Satoru’s thick thighs, his cock jumping on the side on your face. You look up at him and smile before turning slightly to peck his shaft.  
“Stop teasing—be a good girl and put it in your mouth before I mess up your ‘fancy weddin’ hair.’” He teases. You glare up at him—about tell him off, but as soon as you open your mouth Suguru shoves his thick cock into your wet pussy. You scream.  
“Shut her up ‘Toru!” Suguru spits out between groans. You clench so tight around him he tries not to cum prematurely.   
You move to take Satoru’s cock before he has a chance to fuck up your hair any more than he already has. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you thank the gods above you don’t have a gag reflex. You start to bob your head down his stiff cock, careful not to nick him with your teeth.  
Suguru starts to thrust in and out, hands gripping your hips so tight you know your hips will be bruised for the next week.  
“So fuckin’ tight,” Suguru grunts throwing his head back. “Tightest cunt I‘ve ever fucked.”  
You moan around Satoru’s cock.   “Missed this warm mouth.” Satoru moans, thrusting his hips into your face. Suguru follows his lead.
“You miss havin’ two cocks in you, oh wait, you still get fucked like this weekly by—fuck—by Nanami’s entire office floor.” Mouth full of cock, you don’t even attempt to defend yourself, it’s true anyways.  
“We’re still you're favorites or did you forget about us after college, hm? So many cocks you forgot about the first two.” Suguru slams you down the entire length of his cock, so hard Satoru’s cock falls out your mouth. Satoru grips your jaw, ignoring the spit and precum that falls onto his hands.  
“Is that true pretty, you forgot about the men who taught you how to take cock?”  
“N-no,” you moan out, Suguru's cock filling you up so good you hardly remember how to breath.   
“Never f-forget you guys, never ever.” You promise.  
“Then prove it, suck my cock just how I taught you.”
You shudder in pleasure before shamelessly grabbing ‘Toru’s cock and shoving it back in your mouth, determined to get him off. You bounce your head up and down his shaft, licking and sucking the tip, just like he taught you.   
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” ‘Toru grits out, forgoing the rule about touching your hair. He holds your head to his pelvis thrusting into your mouth so hard you start to get lightheaded, pair that with Suguru's thick cock pushing against your pelvis, and you’re surprised you haven't passed out.  
“M’cummin, f-fuck m’ gonna cum” Satoru groans shooting thick ropes into your throat. You swallow down every sip, eyes rolling to the back of your head when Suguru’s thrusts turn sloppy.
“C-Cum in my pussy ‘Sugu!” You cry against Satoru’s softening cock.  
“What was that Sweetheart?” Suguru pulls you put by the scruff of your neck. “What did you say?”  
“S-said cum in me, please!” You cry, your hands reaching for the hand around your neck.  
“M’gonna cum deep inside in you Sweetheart, gonna cum so deep you’ll e scooping it out for days,” Your pussy clenches at the thought. “You wan’ that, hm? You want my cum?”   
“Please, please, please!” You beg.  
“Take it then—” He slams into your ass, cumming deep inside your pussy causing you to orgasm at the feeling of being filled to the brim.  
“Fuck that felt amazing.” Suguru mumbles into your now fucked up hair. At that thought you open your eyes and glare at Satoru.  
“What?” He questions, stuffing himself back into his pants.  
“You messed up my hair.” You grumble. Suguru laughs behind you, gently slipping his now soft cock out of you. You clench your cum-filled pussy while Suguru situates your thong back in place, he pats your pussy. You’re suddenly hit with a pang of nostalgia and the old routine. Memories of the three of you coming to the forefront of your mind. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this. Somedays all you think about is how you wish you could just go back to the days when you fucked the boys like a bunny in heat. The days when you laid on Suguru’s chest after long days and thought about what your life would be like if you settled down with him. You’d give anything to go back.  
“Suguru, you in here?”  
“Shit!”  
—  
“Is she okay?” Suguru’s wife frowns, looking at you slumped over the toilet.  
“She's just drunk, she always acts like this around alcohol and can't help herself when it comes to taking as many shots as she can get her hands on.” Satoru smirks, and you roll your eyes beneath your arm
“Why’s your shirt wet?”   
“She let loose and threw up all over me, had to get creative.”   
“C'mon babe, let's get back to the party, Satoru will help clean her up.” Suguru puts his hand on his wife’s back gently guiding her out of the restroom.  
“Okay, be quick Satoru, we're about to do another round of speeches, the crowd loves you.” 
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
prisjean · 5 months ago
Text
₊˚ˑ༄ؘ late night confessions
Tumblr media
synopsis: after confessing how you've never had any of your firsts, frat boy!caleb is there to listen (and help  ¬ᴗ¬) but he also has something to confess aswell?
tw: MDNI +18, p in v (use protection), virginity loss, fingering, cummin inside, oral, squirting, teases a bit, caleb is a bit of a groaner, your pleasure comes first!!
author's note: hihi lovelies! so sorry i took awhile to post, life has been busy. i wanted to make something extra long because i will continue to be busy these next few weeks so i dont know when i'll be able to post but thank you so much for the love on held close, it was my best work and i wanted to capture the essence on how caleb is hehe. happy reading!
Tumblr media
this wasn’t unusual. you and caleb always ended up like this after nights out. he might be the life of the party, but he never let you walk home alone. not when he could just let you crash here, giving the two of you privacy while his roommate was away.
he took a sip from his water bottle, tilting his head to the side as he studied you. “you looked miserable down there,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “don’t tell me you’re finally admitting frat parties aren’t your thing.”
you rolled your eyes. “they never were.” you take a sip from your water bottle that caleb handed to you.
he chuckled, setting the bottle on the nightstand. “then why’d you come? you know i wouldn’t have invited you if it meant you would feel terrible.”
you hesitated, tracing patterns on his blanket. “i dunno. just figured…well it’s college. i should probably try to enjoy it like everyone else.”
caleb hummed like he didn’t quite believe you. “uhuh and did you?”
you shot him a dry look. “i spent half the night dodging drunk guys who couldn’t take a hint, so what do you think?”
his smirk faded. “who?”
“relax, nothing happened,” you said quickly. “but that’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?”
caleb frowned, pushing himself up so he was properly sitting. “what do you mean?”
you let out a slow breath, you looked down at the floor. “i just… i feel like i’m behind.”
“behind what?”
“everything,” you admitted. “i’ve never had a real boyfriend. never had my first kiss, never-” you paused, suddenly regretting saying anything at all. “never mind. it’s stupid.” you dismiss your comment with a slight chuckle.
caleb was quiet for a moment. when you finally glanced up at him, you expected teasing, maybe some cocky remark about how he could “fix that” if you wanted.
but he just looked… thoughtful.
“that’s not stupid pipsqueak” he said finally. his voice was quieter now, more serious.
you sighed. “come on, caleb. you..you’ve lived. you’ve had hookups, flings, relationships or whatever you call them and i’ve had nothing.”
he gets closer and sits next to you on his bed, keeping his gaze. “and? why does that matter?”
“because,” you huffed, frustrated. “people expect you to have certain experiences by a certain age, and i just… haven’t.”
caleb’s brows furrowed. “who the hell cares what ‘people’ expect?”
you bit your lip, shrugging. “it’s just embarrassing sometimes. i feel like i’m missing out.”
he was watching you closely now, something unreadable in his gaze. “you’re not missing out on anything, pipsqueak,” he murmured.
your stomach flipped at the nickname, but you ignored it. “easy for you to say. you’ve had all your firsts.”
caleb froze but leaned closer, something like a smirk tugging at his lips, but it wasn’t cocky this time. he cups your cheek. “yeah? and you wanna know something?”
you hesitated before nodding.
“they were forgettable.”
that caught you off guard. “what?”
he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “i mean… there were moments. but i could never look them in the eye. i just couldn’t..” his fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, gaze flickering away. i always made sure i wasn’t facing them, like if i did, it’d make it real and something in me would just freeze.” 
he let out a short, almost self-deprecating laugh. “like some part of me knew it wasn’t supposed to be with them or other times i would call them the wrong name.. and it would be the same name every. single. time” his jaw tightens, now his gaze never left yours. 
your stomach twisted. “caleb…”
he shook his head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. he ruffles your hair. “you’re not behind, pipsqueak. you’re just waiting for it to actually matter.”
your breath caught. “you’ve never…?”
he shook his head once, a small, almost embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. “not in the way you think.”
the room felt smaller somehow, the space between you charged with something unsaid.
“you don’t regret that?” you asked quietly.
he hesitated, he huffs. “i think i’d regret it more if i gave my firsts to someone who actually meant something… and they didn’t feel the same.”
your heart stuttered in your chest, the weight of his words pressing down on you. but before you could say anything, caleb just gave you a lazy, lopsided smile, like he hadn’t just dropped a big piece of his life on you. he grazed your cheek, his touch lingering for just a second too long.
“don’t stress about it, okay?” he murmured. “your firsts should be with someone you want them with. not just someone convenient.”
a heavy silence settled between you, but your mind was spinning now, turning over every moment, every lingering touch, every look he had given you that you never understood, until now.
“all those girls,” you said hesitantly, your voice quieter now. “the ones you’ve been with… did none of them ever mean anything?”
caleb stiffened, his jaw tightening. he looked away, exhaling sharply through his nose like he was debating whether to tell you the truth.
then he muttered, almost too low for you to hear. “none of them were you.” he finally admitted.
you felt your cheeks heat up by the sudden change in tone. 
he scoffed at himself, scratching the back of his head. “it’s silly, huh? i’d go out, find someone who-” he let out a humorless laugh. “someone who looked just enough like you if i squinted. your hair and that same kind of smile that i adore too much. sometimes they even smelled like your vanilla perfume.”
you stared at him, your heart beating against your ribs.
he shook his head, laughing bitterly. “and for a while, it worked. i’d close my eyes and pretend it was you. just for a little bit.” his voice dropped lower, ashamed. “but then it’d be over, and i’d wake up, and it wasn’t. and i’d hate myself for it.”
you swallowed hard. “caleb…”
his eyes met yours again, and for once, there was no smirk, no teasing glint. just raw honesty.
“but that didn’t stop me,” he admitted. “because i thought..heh i convinced myself..i’d never actually have you. and if I couldn’t, then what was the harm in pretending?”
a heavy silence settled between you. your chest ached, not just for him, but for yourself, for all the moments you never realized he was looking at you like that. the only thing that echoed now was the faint music from the speakers coming from the party downstairs.
“…and now?” you whispered.
caleb exhaled, something almost resigned in his expression. “and now i don’t even wanna pretend anymore.”
“you don’t…have too..” you whispered as both of your faces were mere inches from each other. a quiet breath came first followed by caleb looking down at your lips before he traced his hand down your chin. then, caleb kissed you.
he was slow at first but hesitant, as if he was still trying to convince himself this was real. his hand slid to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper. he places your back on his bed, the weight of him settling over you while fighting for dominance with his tongue. 
he kissed you like he was making up for every stolen glance, every moment spent pretending. his tongue brushed against yours, coaxing, claiming, demanding in a way that sent heat pooling in your stomach.
then he slowed, breathing heavy as he pulled back just enough for his forehead to rest against yours. his thumb traced your jaw, his voice barely above a whisper.
"tell me to stop," he said, but his voice wavered, like he was terrified of what he’d do if you actually did.
you swallowed hard, your hands turned to knuckles."i don’t want you to."
a sharp exhale, like he had been holding his breath. his lips ghosted over yours, his grip tightening ever so slightly. his breath hot over your lips "then tell me…" his voice was desperate. "tell me that whatever happens next, you won’t regret it." he grabs your hand to kiss it before looking into your eyes once more awaiting your answer. “i want to be your first.” his puppy eyes now settling upon you. 
you lifted that same hand, brushing your fingers through his hair. “caleb,” you whispered, soft but certain. “i could never regret you. i want this more than you could ever know.”
with a warm smile, he kissed you again, harder this time, more sure of himself. his hand slid down your waist, grounding himself in the feeling of you beneath him.
his hand traced the curve of your cheek before trailing lower, his lips followed.
he dove into your neck, attacking you with nibbles. what started as slow, lingering kisses turned into teasing bites that sent a shiver down your spine. his teeth grazed over your skin before his tongue followed, soothing the marks he was leaving behind. your clear skin was now painted with his touch, evidence of his undying love for you. he thought, what could be just a one-night fling to you, felt like more than everything to him. if what was happening now was just for one night, he was determined to make this into a memory that was worth to keep him going. 
he trails a free hand to the base of your skirt, tugging on the zipper while his lips stay latched on your neck. with a sudden “zzzip” filling the room, he continues his path, guiding his hand lower and successfully reaching inside your underwear. you felt shivers down your spine as caleb rolls circles on your clit, sending a gasp out of you. 
you grip at his shoulder, feeling the fabric of his jacket wrinkle under your grasp. you didn’t know how to comprehend the amount of pleasure he was giving you. moans started to escape your lips as caleb continued to caress your clit, his every touch left you almost breathless but wanting more. your body started to tense up, an unknown feeling that only escalated your arousal. 
caleb let out a low chuckle before trailing a series of soft, lingering kisses along your lips. just as you try to keep up with your breath, he captured your mouth again, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his touch both teasing and possessive. his tongue slipped past your parted lips, prying your mouth open as he explored you further, muffling your shaky moans with an intense and consuming kiss.
“this feels s-so good..” you managed to whisper in between kisses, your body responding to every relentless touch. caleb still not losing his rhythm on your clit, his lips never leaving yours as he pulled back just enough to smile.
"i'm glad..because I won’t be stopping anytime soon," he said, his voice low and teasing.
his words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of excitement and anticipation pooling in your stomach. the more he kept playing with your clit, the more this..unknown sensation was rising inside you and he didn’t want him to stop. 
pulling his fingers away, you immediately missed the feeling, a whimper catching in your throat. before you could make a fuss on the loss, caleb dipped his head down, his breath warm against your skirt, nearing your cunt. you sucked in a shaky breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. your eyes, heavy-lidded and hazy with pleasure, flickered to the window. the stars had never looked so bright, distant, shimmering, and endless, just like the party still going on downstairs.
his hands found your hips, thumbs pressing into your hip bones in a slow, soothing motion before he hooked his fingers into your skirt. with a smooth tug, he slid it down, taking your underwear along with it, leaving you bare beneath him. caleb glanced up, his eyes smoldering as he murmured, "after tonight, i promise..this is all you'll ever think about."  
before you could even form a response, he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, keeping you open for him. then, without warning, his mouth descended on your exposed pussy.  
the first swipe of his tongue was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor you, to let the taste of you settle on his tongue. but that restraint didn't last long. his groan vibrated against your core, low and needy, like he was already losing himself. his hands gripped your thighs tighter, fingers pressing into your flesh like he needed something to ground himself. but even then, he was slipping, unraveling with every lick, every sound you made.  
his tongue moved with an eager desperation, tracing over your folds, as if he was memorizing the way you felt against his tongue. he devoured you like a man starved, each groan growing rougher, throatier, as his self-control decreased. his movements became sloppier, greedier. his lips sealing around you, sucking just to hear you gasp, his tongue lapping up every drop like he couldn’t get enough.  
when he pulled back just slightly, his lips glistening, his breath ragged, his pupils were blown wide, almost black with hunger.
 "fuck..." he exhaled, his voice rawly thick. his grip on your thighs tightened for just a second before he dove back in, dragging another long, almost desperate lick through your folds, like he had lost all sense of anything else but you. 
your fingers tangled in his mullet without thinking, pulling him closer as your hips rocked against his tongue, chasing every wave of pleasure he gave you. the heat pooling in your stomach burned hotter with each flick of his tongue, each hungry suck that left you trembling beneath him.  
"caleb—" his name slipped out in a breathless moan before you slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sounds spilling from your lips. "that feels… s-so good," you mumbled against your palm, your voice barely holding together.  
but caleb wasn’t having that.  
still buried between your thighs, he hummed against you, a deep, satisfied sound that sent vibrations straight through your core. without pausing, he reached up, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, pulling your hand away from your lips. he laced his fingers with yours, his grip firm, grounding.  
his lips curled into a smirk against you before he murmured, voice thick with want, "you don’t have to hold back. be as loud as you want… i’m right here."
he pushes you back, pinning you against the bed with ease, his face still hovering over your pussy.  
"caleb, i…ah!"  
a sharp cry cuts off your words as his fingers sink into you, stretching you open inch by inch. the sudden fullness sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making your body arch into his touch. before you can even catch your breath, his tongue joins the mix, dragging along your folds with a slow, deliberate lick that has your thighs trembling.  
"you taste so sweet…" he groans against you, his voice dripping with hunger. "i could do this all night..all day even", he chuckles. 
your slick coats his fingers as he pumps them in and out, the pace teasingly slow, as if he’s memorizing every reaction, every little sound you make. your whimpers fuel him, a spark igniting in his chest as he watches you come undone beneath him.  
then, he curls his fingers just right-  
your back lifts off the bed, a choked moan escaping your lips as your body tenses. his smirk deepens, dark and knowing. he’s found it.  
"there it is," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. he doesn’t waste a second. his fingers pick up speed, thrusting deeper, pressing against that same spot over and over again. every movement is deliberate, every stroke meant to unravel you. the room fills with the slick sounds of his fingers working inside you, the wet heat of his mouth still teasing your clit, and the way your moans spill out, growing louder with every calculated thrust.  
caleb hums against you, his own pleasure building just from watching you come apart. "that’s it… let me hear you."
your grip on his hand tightened, fingers trembling as your body squirmed beneath him. a desperate whimper escaped your lips.
“c-caleb… i—ah… i think i’m close,” you gasped, your voice breathless, barely above a whisper.
his response was immediate, “come for me, princess… i’m right here.”
a shiver ran down your spine as his words alone sent you teetering on the edge. your back arched, muscles tensing as pleasure coiled tight in your core. caleb didn’t stop, his touch was relentless, his tongue and fingers working in perfect sync, dragging you through wave after wave of ecstasy.
your release crashed over you, sending you spiraling. a gasp came from your throat as warm liquid flooded through you, coating his face and fingers soon part of the liquid dripped down to the bed. caleb groaned against you, savoring every moment, every sound, every taste. he pulled away only to lick his lips, eyes dark with satisfaction as his thumb traced soft circles on your inner thigh.
“that’s my good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with praise, a smirk tugging at his lips. even now, with your body spent and breath uneven, the hunger in his gaze told you..he wasn’t done with you yet.
he wastes no time before hovering over you, caging you beneath him. his fingers fumble slightly as he works at the buttons of your top, eager yet unsteady. one by one, they come undone, revealing more of your skin to his hungry gaze. his pupils darken, widening with sheer desperation. he had imagined this moment countless times, but nothing compared to the reality of seeing you like this.  
“you’re even more stunning than i imagined,” he breathes, voice thick with longing. the last of the buttons popped off and you help him as he gently swifts it off your shoulders, putting it to the side. there’s no hesitation in his movements as he expertly unclasps your bra with a single hand, discarding it just as quickly. 
for a moment, he simply stares, enamored, breath hitching as if he doesn’t know where to begin. but desire overtakes him, and he dips his head, capturing one of your sensitive buds between his lips. the moment his mouth latches on, he sucks greedily, the same feeling he had between your thighs now channeled into worshipping every inch of you. he makes sure to give the other breast the same attention, his fingers kneading your soft flesh while his mouth continues its worship. caleb was always the type to ensure you were taken care of, and this was no different. his touch was deliberate, yet dripping with desire.  
your whimpers slip past your lips, each sound fueling him further as he overwhelms you with sensation after sensation. his tongue flicks and rolls, alternating between slow, teasing swirls and desperate, heated sucks, never giving you a moment to recover. every movement was a silent promise. he wasn’t stopping until you were completely undone beneath him.
eventually pulling his lips away from your breasts, his breaths were ragged, heavy with restraint as his fingers made quick work of his belt. “you have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, the sharp clink of metal echoed in the room, followed by the unmistakable sound of a zipper being dragged down. 
his hands trembled slightly, whether from excitement or the sheer need to feel you, you weren’t sure. but the moment his pants hit the floor, he wasted no time. he leaned back over you, the heat of his body radiating against your skin as he traced a hand along your thigh, his touch very  worshipping. he releases his erection from his boxers and he was big. his tip glistened with pre-cum. he guided his cock before your pussy. 
“i’ll go slow, i promise” he breathed out, using your slick to coat himself. he aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with the tip before slowly pushing in, letting you take him inch by inch.
a groan ripped from his throat as your walls wrapped around him, his fingers digging into your hips as he tried to steady himself. his head fell forward, his breath hot against your shoulder. "fuck," he rasped, voice shaking. "you're—you're squeezing me so tight." he shakily pumps in you slowly.
"c-caleb," you whimpered, voice breaking as you tried to adjust. "you're so… big—"
his grip on you tightened, his chest rising and falling in heavy pants. "god… you feel too good," he nearly whimpered, his voice filled with desperation. his body trembled, pressing his forehead against yours as he fought for control. 
“if you keep squeezing me like that,” he murmured, his voice husky and uneven, “i don’t think i can go slow.”
you swallowed hard, your walls fluttering around him at his words. “please… don’t,” you whispered, meeting his half-lidded gaze with your own. "i want to feel all of you." you tugged at his jacket, it being the only clothing left on between the two of you. you slipped your hands beneath the fabric, pushing his jacket off his shoulders before sliding it down his arms, letting it fall carelessly to the floor along with your clothes. you guided your hands on his chest, feeling every muscle he had. you were used to seeing caleb shirtless but tonight, it was in a different light that only increased your arousal. 
once he was halfway in, his breathing started to become heavy as he studied your face for any sign of discomfort. “alright..” he hums, his thumb stroked gentle circles on your hip. “but tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered.
your nails dug into his shoulders, your body desperate for more despite the slow burn. “keep going,” you urged, your voice breathless and cheeks flushed.
caleb let out a shuddered exhale before pushing deeper, groaning as he finally bottomed out inside you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, overwhelmed by the warmth embracing him so perfectly. his body trembled to move at a pace that wouldn’t break you, despite the way your walls clenched around him. 
your moans became louder as caleb continues to fill you, his hair becoming a bird's nest under your fingers. “c-caleb..more” you bit your lip, scratch marks forming on his back the more you cling onto him. “hhhg…i need more” you pleaded. a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips before he captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his restraint finally snapping as he began to move in a quicker pace, rocking into you with deep, measured thrusts that left you gasping.
caleb groaned against your lips before pulling away, his hands gripping your thighs as he adjusted his position, sliding his hands under your legs before lifting them onto his shoulders. the shift made you gasp, the deeper angle sending a shiver through your entire body. the perfect angle he knows to get you into a mess. he leaned forward, pressing your knees closer to your chest, trapping you beneath him. 
"c-caleb—" you choked out as he pushed back in, deeper than before, the sensation overwhelming his grip on your thighs tightened as he adjusted, his thrusts being so deep, hitting that sensitive spot inside you with precision. every roll of his hips that kissed your g-spot sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, your moans growing louder with each push and pull. 
caleb’s breathing was ragged, his control unraveling as he watched you writhe beneath him. "look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with admiration. "so beautiful like this..so perfect for me." he places a kiss on your calf. 
you reached for him, hands on his chest to gesture him to slow down. something was building up in your core. sounds of skin slapping filled the room. "i’m-..so cl..close caleb.." 
"i know," he cut in, voice strained as he instead quickened his pace, wanting your release to fall through for him and by him. "give it to me... please let me feel you.." 
with a final, deep thrust, he angled himself just right, sending you over the edge with a cry, your body tightening around him as a warm liquid gushed out of you. the liquid coated on caleb’s cock and inner thighs. witnessing this, caleb groaned loudly, his hips stuttering as he came completely undone by the way you pulsed around him. his movements grew more erratic as he felt your walls clamp down around him. the grip on your thighs tightened, as he tried to hold himself together.
"good girl.." he panted, his mind still onto the sounds and the expressions of you coming undone before him. he continued thrusting, now chasing his high. after a while, caleb announces “i’m ugg.. gonna..” his body comes to a stop as he releases his seed inside of you, coating your walls.
the world around you both seemed to have stopped, nothing but the feeling of him filled your mind. caleb's weight sank into you as he rested his forehead on your shoulder, trying to catch his breath.
a small smile curled at your lips as you traced your fingers through his damp hair, feeling his body twitch slightly against yours. "that was…" you trailed off, still breathless, your mind hazy from the intensity of it all.
caleb let out a weak chuckle, pressing a soft kiss against your collarbone before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. his purple-pinkish eyes, still heavy with satisfaction, softened as he took you in. "yeah," he murmured, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. "it was."
he slowly pulled out of you, making sure to be gentle as he settled beside you, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. his hands roamed over your bare skin, his eyes full of adoration. caleb reached for the blanket, pulling it over you both, carefully covering you up as if protecting the moment, his moment. he held you close, his breathing still getting adjusted for his body to fit around yours. 
you cleared your throat, lifting your head to face him.
“hey,” you started softly, your voice a little unsure. “earlier… when i said i felt like i was behind, that I hadn’t had any of those firsts… i still feel that way sometimes. even now.”
caleb’s gaze softened, and he shifted, lifting his head to look down at you. his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a quiet gesture. “you’re not behind, pipsqueak,” he murmured, tender now. “everyone’s timeline is different. and whatever you haven’t experienced yet? i’m not going anywhere. i’ll be right here, whenever you’re ready for all of it.”
a smile tugged at your lips, his words comforting you. “i know. i guess i just needed to hear that.”
caleb’s smile was soft, his eyes full of warmth. he pulled you closer, holding you a little tighter. “it’s not about what everyone else does or what they think. it’s about what feels right for you. don’t ever feel like you’re missing out, because with me… you’ll always have all the time you need.”
you let out a contented sigh, your hand resting on his chest. “thanks caleb,” you whispered. “i’m glad i have you here.”
he kissed the top of your head, his voice with reassurance. “i’ll always be here, pipsqueak.” you begun to doze off, leaving the memory of the night you and caleb in your head. he was right, this is all you’ll ever think about. “goodnight, pipsqueak,” caleb whispered softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. you didn’t have the energy to respond, the last of your thoughts dissolving into peaceful sleep.
caleb smiled down at you, his heart swelling with affection. his hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his gaze lingering on you with a tenderness that he had always felt for you before. you looked so peaceful, so content, and he could hardly believe you were in his arms, trusting and letting him help with one of your doubts could easily fill him for the rest of his life.
he watched you for a while, tracing the outline of your face with his eyes as you slept, aware of the way his heart beat faster with each passing second. with each second having him fall more and more in love with you. caleb smirked to himself, imagining the questions that would come once gideon finds you sleeping in caleb’s bed. he let out a contented sigh, looking down at your sleeping form. “let him ask. i won’t let out a peep” he muttered.
not that gideon would believe any excuse, anyway. caleb could say you had a nightmare, that you tripped and conveniently landed in his bed, or that aliens abducted every other available sleeping surface but gideon would just wag his eyebrows and call it bluffing.
whatever. let him talk. let him annoy the hell out of him. caleb didn’t care.
all that mattered was the pretty girl curled up in his arms, fast asleep because for the first time in a long time, caleb was exactly where he wanted to be. and nothing else mattered.
976 notes · View notes
digitaldaydreamm · 2 months ago
Text
unspoken claim
rafe x childhood friend!reader
| summary | he has a way of making you forgive him without even saying he's sorry
warnings: manipulation, gaslighting, jealousy, toxic rafe is back for this one
a/n: here's the highly (sort of) requested part 2!! it's kind of short bc i don't really like writing second parts :') there was a few ways i was thinking of taking this little scenario but i ended up going for toxic rafe because at the end of the day, he's rafe. i love to give you guys the best of both worlds with unspoken claim and show you how soft he can be but also remind you how much of an asshole he is sometimes lol... anyway i hope you like it, feedback is appreciated <3
part 1 | masterlist | taglist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⋆。𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°
You haven’t seen him in days.
Not really, anyway. Just a few texts here and there—one-word answers, dry replies, the kind of stuff Rafe only ever sends when he’s pissed but trying to act like he isn’t. No FaceTime calls. No random pop-ins. Not even a passive-aggressive “where are you?” like he usually sends when you’re gone too long without checking in.
You told yourself it was fine. That you needed space too.
That you wanted space.
But when your phone buzzes and you see a message from the same guy who dropped you off that night—hey, you still up?—you don’t reply. He'd been texting you every now and then, but you didn't really care. So you just stare at it. Let the screen go dark again.
And then your front door opens.
Not a knock. Not a heads-up. Just the jingle of keys and the creak of hinges and the low, familiar sound of heavy footsteps on your floor.
Your stomach knots instantly.
Rafe steps into the living room like he’s lived there his whole life, dressed in black, his buzzed head fresh from a recent cut. He’s got that calm but angry look again—blank face, tight jaw, hands shoved in his pockets like he’s holding something in.
“Hey,” you say quietly.
He barely looks at you before dropping onto the couch.
You hesitate, then join him, legs tucked under you, trying not to fidget. “Didn’t know you were coming.”
He shrugs. “Didn’t think you missed me.”
You blink. “What?”
He doesn’t look at you—just leans back against the cushions like this is all routine. “You been busy, right? Hanging out. Talking. Distracted.”
“Rafe…” you sigh, “I’ve barely texted him.”
“I never said who,” he cuts in, smooth and sharp.
You flinch.
There’s silence. Tense and stretched thin between you. He finally turns his head, and his eyes meet yours—cool, unreadable.
“I give you space,” he says lowly, “and you fill it with him?”
You open your mouth to respond but your phone buzzes again on the coffee table—same name, second message. You both see it light up.
Rafe’s gaze drops to it, then flicks back to you. He doesn’t look mad.
Worse—he looks disappointed.
“Wow,” he mutters, like he’s talking to himself.
“Rafe, I wasn’t even gonna reply—”
He cuts you off again. “You think I’m mad?” he asks with a dry laugh. “Nah, kid. I’m not mad. I’m just… realizing you really don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
He leans in a little, voice lowering. “You think he gives a shit about why you don’t text back? Think he notices that you’re upset? Think he’d show up if you were having a bad day, no invite, no reason—just because?”
You blink fast.
“No, because he doesn’t see you,” Rafe says. “Not the way I do.”
Your throat tightens. “Then why’ve you been ignoring me?”
He tilts his head. “You were pulling away first.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Every time I came around, you were nose deep in your phone,” he says smoothly. “You laughed less when I was around. Got quieter. Didn’t even look me in the eye.”
“I was just—”
“Just what?” he interrupts gently, like he’s coaxing a child. “Trying something new? Seeing what it’s like with someone who doesn’t even know your middle name?”
The words sting more than you want to admit.
You cross your arms, turning away, but he leans closer, warm breath brushing your ear.
“I’ve been here,” he murmurs. “Always been here. You think that’s an accident?”
Your chest tightens. He’s too close. He smells like his cologne and the ocean and that stupid expensive soap he pretends not to use. And you hate how much you missed it.
“How many times do I have to prove it, huh?” he asks, voice soft now. “How many more people are you gonna test me with?”
You don’t respond. You can’t.
He notices. Smirks faintly.
And just like that—snap—the tension breaks. He stands, grabs the remote, and flops back onto the couch like everything’s fine.
“You hungry?” he asks, casual. “You barely eat when you’re sad.”
You glance at him. “I’m not—”
“Don’t lie to me, baby.”
Your breath catches at the nickname—rare, but not unheard of. Always drops when he knows you’re too vulnerable to fight it.
“I’ll make something,” he says, already headed to your kitchen like it’s his kitchen.
And just like that… the conversation’s over.
No apology. No “I’m sorry I made you cry,” or “I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t care.” Just Rafe sliding back into your world like he never left—making you grilled cheese, asking if you want a movie, throwing you a hoodie when you shiver.
And you let him.
Because he’s always been here.
Because you don’t know how to say no.
⋆。𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°
taglist!!
@drewsdirtyslut @rafestoothbrush @vanessa-rafesgirl @dookeyfartt @doublejeon @memoirofasparklemuff1n @sunsetmade @xummer01 @justoxyo22 @maybankslover @jkrafe @meetmeintheemeraldpool @actcvntwhennoonesaround
please lmk if i missed someone or if you weren't meant to be tagged for this series!
502 notes · View notes