#I didn’t know if maybe that came off as me being short or anything I just didn’t want to like copy-paste all the stuff I wrote haha

[eleganzadellarosa]

Melted

pairing: olderbrothersbestfriend!chan x needy fem! reader

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: MDNI (I'm sorry if this changes the way you see ice cream, pwp I guess, fast paced plot, unprotected sex (don’t 👀), big dick Chan (because what else would he be?), overstim, squirting, hair pulling, choking, creampie, Chan calls reader Baby, reader calls him Channie)

word count: 5.82K

A/N: Just because my mind has been on Chan A LOT lately. Also…this isn’t proofread 😬

Why would you like someone that ruffles your hair, tickles your sides and calls you “baby” as a nickname? Sounds childish right? Not to you when it comes to your huge crush on Chan. You know that’s just how he is with you and has been since you were younger, but you wish it meant something different to him.

Chan is best friends with your older brother, he’s basically been a part of your family for over 10 years. You’ve always liked Chan, but not in that way until your crush developed right before he moved. His family moved away for a while during his late teen years so you hadn’t seen him in quite some time. Then he suddenly came back and he was like a whole new person. His personality didn’t change, no, the way he looked did and you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of him since.

He and your brother are 25 and you’re stuck being 23. It wasn’t a big enough gap to make anyone bat an eye, but you knew he always viewed you as his best friend’s little sister and you weren’t sure how to make that change. You watched as he pulled up in front of your house, picking up your brother like usual. They spent so much time together, you were almost past the point of jealousy and wanted to hate your brother for taking him away every time.

You stood in the open garage, watching him hop out the driver’s seat. He smiled and waved when he saw you and did a little jog onto the sidewalk and into the garage. Maybe things didn’t need to change and you needed to find someone else to crush on, but it was so hard when he would open his arms for you to hug him and would squeeze you tight until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Hey baby, missed you. How ya been?”

Baby. You would never get over that nickname. It gave you that warm fuzzy feeling but also gave you that second heartbeat.

“Hey Channie, you know same old same old. Where have you been all week?” You knew where he’d been but you’d do anything to have a longer conversation with him before your brother snatched him away.

“I went to go visit my family, they told me to tell you hi.” He smiled and you smiled back knowing how much his family loved you, which oddly enough made you like him more. “I got you somethin’, close your eyes.”

You obliged, closing your eyes waiting almost impatiently to see what he had for you. Not being able to see him in front of you but feeling his presence made a light blush fall on your cheeks. You felt his fingertips graze the skin on your hand and the sudden contact made you jump slightly. He carefully opened your hand and you felt the cold contrast of something against your palm.

“Open your eyes.”

You looked down to see a dainty anklet with small charms dangling from it. Your eyes lit up seeing each charm perfectly handpicked with things he knew you’d like. It was gorgeous and on closer inspection, it looked expensive. You didn’t care how much it cost, only worrying that he spent too much of his money on you, but loving that he got you a gift at all.

“Baby, do you like it?” He made dangerous eye contact waiting for you to reply. It didn’t help you gather your thoughts any quicker even though you had your answer already. He made your nervous system short circuit.

“Y-yeah Channie, I love it!” You smiled as much as you could to cover the way you swallowed thickly seeing him stand so close to you.

“Really? Oh gosh I’m glad, I thought I chose something you wouldn’t like.” He had to be lying. He could pick a leaf off a tree and you’d be jumping for joy. “Here lemme see, I’ll put it on for you.”

You gasped when he lifted you up to seat you on your dad’s workbench that sat at the back of the garage. The heat seeping in from outside was hot enough, but now you were sure you could break a thermometer. He kneeled down and wrapped the cold jewelry around your ankle. You were unconsciously holding your breath, scared of having any reaction because if you let go, you’d probably moan and you’d rather not make this awkward.

He looked up at you with your foot still in his hand, “It looks great baby, I like it.” God that comment had you slippery wet. He liked it on you? Now you’d never take it off. “Make sure you think of me every time you look at it.” He shot you a wink and your breath got caught in your throat preventing you from swallowing.

This conversation would be stored for fuel whenever you needed something to tip you over the edge at night. You almost said something equally seductive back, almost, when your brother came and took Chan away. You were used to it by now, never really having more than 10 minutes tops of alone time with him. It was frustrating, having to get most of your information from your brother who always reluctantly told you, asking “why do you wanna know anyways?”

You think Chan would tell you no hesitation if you actually had the chance to speak with him. But truth be told, you’d never be able to do such a thing with your brother around. He made it clear on multiple occasions that he didn’t approve of a relationship between you two if it ever came to be, but all three of you knew that would never be brought into existence.

You sat in the same spot on the tool bench, swinging your foot to see the charms sparkle in the small rays of sunshine. Chan said to think about him every time you looked at it, so you did. The thought of you on your knees in front of him, him slipping his thumb past your lips telling you to suck if you wanted to be rewarded. The ideas that ran freely were filthy and getting worse by the second. Your thighs rubbed together tightly as you felt yourself grow wetter with each passing thought.

The sun shined brightly through the small gaps between your blinds, easing you awake with its warmth. The weekends were the best because it was almost guaranteed that you’d get to have breakfast with Chan. It was an unspoken tradition and you marked it off in your mental calendar. You quickly washed your face before heading downstairs to the kitchen, only to see it completely empty besides the few duffle bags that sat beside the island.

“Where are you going?” You asked your brother who walked in at the perfect time before you could stump yourself with more unanswered questions.

“Didn’t mom tell you? I’m going to stay at a beach house with a few friends for the weekend.” He stuffed a few more things in his bag, talking with his back facing you.

“No…is Chan going too?” You asked carefully trying to make it seem like a normal question.

He rolled his eyes and leaned up against the marble island. “Next time you need to just start asking Chan these questions since you always wanna know everything about him. And no, he’s not coming.”

“Really?” A smile spread across your face but you quickly wiped it away when you saw your brother narrow his eyes.

“Don’t go bothering him while I’m away, he’s doesn’t wanna hang with you at all so just stay home!”

“You’re such an asshole, he never said that!”

“You don’t know what he said because you’re not his best friend! Just don’t bother him okay?” He sucked his teeth as he picked up his bags and walked out the door, kicking it closed with his foot.

He didn’t know what he was talking about. Chan wouldn’t say that, he would love to hang out with you. Right? You felt like a teenager crushing on a college boy that was far out of your league for multiple reasons but you swore you had a chance.

You sulkily walked upstairs back to your room and flopped on your bed. Being that your brother didn’t want you to bother Chan, it made you more curious as to what he could be doing right now. It sucks that you didn’t have his number or really any way to contact him. Well you did, you were just too scared to actually do it.

It was nothing but a 10 minute walk and 2 minute drive to get to his house but in the back of your mind, you were scared he actually wouldn’t want to see you. What would you say; what would be your reasoning for coming to see him?

“I have a crush on you and I want to be around you, please let me in?”

Like hell that would work. He’d probably slam the door in your face, call your brother and tell him how annoying and stupid his little-

There was a ring at your doorbell.

Your head snapped to your left, slightly shocked you had any visitors. It could easily be your neighbor since she always seemed to pop up randomly. “I got it!” You yelled out, jogging down the stairs. You looked out the peephole to see Chan standing there. Your heart started racing and you quickly looked over your appearance before opening the door.

“Channie?! What are you doing here?”

“Aww baby you aren’t happy to see me?” A cute little pout painted his face and you wanted to drag him in and kiss him all over.

“What? No, of course I am! My brother’s not here and I thought you knew…”

“Oh yeah I knew, I came to see you.”

He said it so nonchalantly as if it was normal to come see you. As if you both agreed to hang out today. Or as if you always hung out when your brother wasn’t around. He had to know what this was doing to you, there was no way he didn’t. You opened your mouth to say something but couldn’t find the strength to let the words come forward.

“I figured you’d be here all by yourself, so I thought I’d come pick you up.” He smiled brightly and there were those cute dimples. God you felt like you were gonna explode.

“I…umm…” you were stuttering and if he didn’t stop staring at you, you were going to be stuck like this.

He looked a bit sad and disappointed but waited to see what you would say. “It’s okay if you don’t want to Baby. I should’ve asked first, I’m so sorry.”

You quickly reached out to touch his arm and practically melted into a puddle, “No no Channie, I’m sorry, I just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out with me. I’d love to go to your house, especially since I’ve never seen this one.”

He smiled again, “Of course I would Baby, you’re my best friend! Now come on, hop in”

Oh how this was never something you thought would happen in a million years. You were Chan’s best friend? As much as you wanted this, there must have been some kind of mistake. Surely he didn’t actually think so.

He grabbed your hand and lead you to his jeep and opened your door for you. “Thank you Channie” barely left your lips before he reached inside and buckled your seatbelt, smiling at you before he closed your door. Your body was on fire; ignited from the soft and simple touches. You were down bad, there was no better way to put it. If he kept moving like this, you’d have to go home and deal with the problem between your legs.

His house was nice, nothing too big or small, just right for him. He had a great sense of decor and he kept his place sparkling clean. Scattered about on different pieces of furniture were photos of him, family and even younger pictures of the 3 of you.

“Baby, make yourself at home, you can sit anywhere you’d like.” He spoke to you from the little pass through window in the kitchen.

You nodded your head but decided to explore his living room some more. When you walked past the patio door, you noticed a reflection on the ground outside.

“Oh my gosh Channie, you have a pool?! Why didn’t my brother tell me?”

He walked over to you with a large red double popsicle and chuckled at the amused look on your face. “I’m gonna punch him when I see him, I told him to tell you because I know how much you love swimming. We can go out there if you want.”

He broke the popsicle in two and handed you a half. “I would love to…but I don’t have a bikini with me.”

“Just get in with what you have on.” He leaned against the side of his couch as he sucked on the cold treat.

You looked down at your outfit, a plain white tee and some daisy patterned shorts. “But I won’t have anything to change into. I can walk back home and get something.”

“Orrrrr, you can just wear some of my clothes until yours are dry.”

What was with him saying all this so nonchalantly? When have you ever worn his clothes? The smell must be absolutely amazing, he always smelled so good. If he was offering, you might as well just take it.

“Hmm” you bit your lip and smiled, “okay, but I don’t wanna get in by myself.”

He smiled as he finished off his half of the popsicle and chewed on the stick. He jolted off the side of the couch and pulled his shirt off. You almost choked on the leftover ice you had in your mouth. What the fuck was he thinking?

“Come on Baby, come swim with me.”

He opened the door and ran and jumped in without hesitation. After little to no consideration, you followed behind him, diving right in. The water was a perfect way to cool off in the hot summer sun. He swam over to you, hair drenched and sticking to his forehead. The droplets of water shined against his toned, muscular body. You wanted to lick him dry, no matter how long it took.

His right hand slid over your waist and around to your back, “you look so cute, I could kiss you right now.”

Cute? Kiss? Cute and kiss in the same sentence? Maybe you needed to pinch yourself to wake up from this completely unrealistic dream.

“M-me? I’m just plain and boring.” You mentally pat yourself on the back for not stuttering too much with how close he was and what he just said.

“You’ve never been either baby, no way that’s what you actually think.” His eyebrows raised in shock.

“Well yeah…there’s so many prettier girls than me. I’m just me, but they’re-“

It happened so fast that your mind didn’t process it. He bent down to press his lips to yours and hold you a bit tighter. Your arms were around his neck and you reciprocated the kiss faster than the fear set in. His tongue swiped over your lip and you happily allowed him to explore your mouth.

Somehow being drenched in the pool made it feel more sensual, nothing left to the imagination, bodies practically touching through the thin fabrics. You could feel how hard he was, pressing it right up against your thigh. You bravely touched him through his shorts, earning a small moan from him.

He ran a hand up the back of your thigh and roughly grabbed your ass. It wasn’t until you felt something press into your back that you realized he moved the both of you closer to the edge of the pool. He trailed the kisses over your jaw and to your neck. You were breathing heavily, making no effort to stop the sounds coming from you.

“I wonder how good you’d sound if I fucked you.”

“Channie please, oh fuck.”

Desperate was too innocent of a word to describe how badly you wanted him. You’d do whatever it took to make your dreams come true.

“Would you like that baby? Let me fuck you and make you feel good?”

At this point you were sure you stopped breathing. He looked so good with his wet hair, heavy lids, toned body pressed right against yours. Of course you’d like that.

“Yes Channie, I want it, I want you.”

He slipped your shirt over your head and left open mouthed kisses down your neck and across your chest. Just as he moved to get your nipple in his mouth, a loud ring came from inside the house; it was his phone.

“You should go get that Channie.”

He looked at you, lips parted and breathing heavily. “Fuck, okay I’ll be right back.”

He hopped out the pool and went inside while you tried to put all the pieces together. So Chan liked you? Or he simply just wanted a fuck buddy? Or maybe he just wanted to fuck you because he knows how much you like him and knew you’d be easy? The insecurity began to weigh down on you and now you just wanted to go home.

When he returned, he squatted down next to you, who was now slightly turned away from him with your arms wrapped around yourself in order to seek comfort.

“That was your brother, he said he’s coming home early because someone got food poisoning. So…he asked me to pick him up.” He reached out and touched your shoulder. “Baby, you okay?”

“Yeah Channie, you can just take me home.” You made sure to not let him see the tears brimming your eyes.

“You sure you’re-“

“Yes, I’d like to go home please.”

He watched you for a few seconds longer, definitely able to notice the shift in your mood, he just didn’t know what caused it. “Okay, let me at least get you a change of clothes.”

The ride back home was short and you got out before he could to open your door for you. He shouted something about seeing you later before driving off as you closed your front door behind you. You still didn’t have his number, so him hitting you up later wouldn’t be a thing, unless he was bold enough to ask your brother but you both knew that would open a can of worms you weren’t ready to try and close.

Now you were a bit nervous that he would tell your brother what happened because he wanted to know why you looked so sad. You’d just avoid him as much as you could and hopefully he would forget anything ever happened.

“As much as I don’t want you to, I need you to come with me and Chan so you can help me choose a gift for my girlfriend.” Your brother came into your room, not bothering to knock since your door was already opened slightly.

“I didn’t say you could come in!”

“Oh my god, yes or no?”

“You didn’t ask me anything dumbass and why don’t you already know what your girlfriend likes?”

“I do know but I want to know what’s the best out of the options I have and you’re a girl.”

“Umm…I guess?”

You were conflicted. You wanted to see Chan, you missed him even though it had only been two days since your encounter in the pool. But you also didn’t want to see him right now because you didn’t want to explain anything to him, yet if you said that your brother would for sure know something happened between you two.

“Okay well be ready in like 10 minutes, set a timer or something.”

Chan and your brother greeted each other like always and when he looked over at you, he looked as if he wanted to come hug you. “Hey baby, you coming with us today?”

Your brother rolled his eyes when you let a smile creep past your lips. You were weak for Chan, he knew exactly what to say to make you melt. Maybe you were thinking about it wrong, maybe he really did like you and he actually wanted to be with you. But having it happen so suddenly made you think perhaps you let your guard down too quickly.

You felt like such a third wheel around the two boys, laughing at their inside jokes and not worrying about you following behind them. Well Chan did, he would look back to make sure you were still there and smile at you when you made eye contact. It felt like hours even though but had only been 30 minutes of walking around the mall looking for the perfect gift.

“Girls like jewelry, so get her something she can always wear.” Your brother’s gaze followed yours down to your anklet. Before he could ask you where you got that, Chan spoke up.

“Yeah I told you that the other day man, if you really love her you should get her something that she can keep for a long time but also that you put effort into choosing.” He looked over at you when he said it, hoping you caught on to what he said.

You tried your hardest not to blush, your brother standing way too close for you to even let out a small squeal.

“Yeah that’s what I wanna get her but I’m not sure she’ll wear it, I never see her wearing jewelry.”

“Trust me bro, she’ll love it.” He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and nodded his head.

“I’m gonna go get some ice cream and then head back to the car you guys.” You said waving your hand as you walked away. Your brother nodded as he answered his phone.

“Is it okay if I come with you baby?” Chan ran to catch up with you before you got too far.

“Sure Channie, I’ll pay for you.”

“You’re so funny Baby, I’m paying for the both of us.” As you approached the stand, he turned around grimacing. “Aww baby they’re all out of rocky road.”

After all these years, he still remembers your favorite ice cream flavor. “It’s okay Channie, just get me whatever you get.”

He smiled softly and nodded and ordered two strawberry cheesecake cones. You walked back with him to his car to enjoy yet another frozen treat in his presence. Of course, he opened your door and let you hop in before he did the same.

“Damn it’s already melting…”

“I prefer ice cream when it melts a little. Like when it drips down my fingers. It just tastes better that way…well to me anyway.” You realized you were babbling, so you looked up at him but he was already looking at you.

“You wanna lick mine off my fingers?”

The question alone could have made you cum, but the way he looked at you; eyes slightly hooded, lips parted, that had you throbbing. You couldn’t even answer him. Actually your mind was blank so you didn’t have an answer or any response to what he just said. He saw it on your face though. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He’s wanted you for a long time and as many hints as he tried throwing your way, you never seemed to catch them.

It became too much for him, your brother always getting in his way of spending alone time with you. He didn’t care what your brother thought about it though. He wanted you and he wanted you bad. So when he eased his hand toward your mouth and you happily let him push a finger past your lips, he knew he didn’t have to try to make you understand anymore; he made that clear when you were in the pool the other day.

“Sorry it’s not your favorite flavor.” He said, removing his finger to replace it with a new one.

“It is now.” Your words were partially cut off by the intrusion of his fingers. You were soaked and your head felt fuzzy, you felt like you were going to die.

You never broke eye contact and he watched you intently. “You can’t look at me like that if you don’t want me to ruin you.”

“Maybe I want you to.” You licked and sucked on his fingers as seductively as you could muster.

He licked his ice cream then shifted more toward you so he could kiss you. The contrast of the cold dessert and the heat from his tongue made you whimper. He slowly let your warmth melt the ice cream and drip down onto your neck and chest. He happily chased the drops with his tongue making sure none of it went to waste.

“Oh god Channie, mmm~”

He caught sight of your brother making his way over to the car so he quickly halted his actions and returned to his seat. “He’s coming, act normal. Deep breaths.”

Well that was surely easier said than done. He just licked the majority of his ice cream off of you, leaving you slightly sticky in multiple places. This was torture, getting so close to what you want only to be cockblocked by your brother once again.

“Yo Chan, is it cool if I stay at your place tonight? My girlfriend might stop by too.”

“Yeah sure, I don’t mind.”

“Okay cool, we can just drop Y/N off.”

You quickly turned, an exaggerated pout on your face, ready to fight your case. “NO FAIR!”

“It’s fine if she stays, I don’t mind.” Chan looked at your brother through the rear view mirror.

“What?! No way, she’s literally just going to bother us the entire time!”

“Fuck you, no I won’t! You always get to hang with Chan by yourself, I can be around him too!”

“Hey! It’s alright, you can sleep in my bed and I can sleep on the couch. I promise it’s fine.”

Your brother rolled his eyes and you stuck your tongue out at him. Maybe you were childish, but you weren’t going to let your day end without at least having another make out session.

You thanked God your brother’s girlfriend came quite late and that she took all his attention off of you and Chan. You all enjoyed some snacks and had movie night. It was nearing almost 2am by the time the movie was over, so your brother took her to the guest room where he was staying for the night.

You stayed up with Chan to help him tidy up even though he insisted he didn’t want you to.

“Is it okay for me to wear another one of your shirts Channie? I didn’t pack anything.”

He looked up from the dishes he just finished, “you don’t have to ask Baby, of course you can.” He gave you a big dimpled smile but then it dropped. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Yeah of course, what’s up?”

“Why were you so sad the other day? You know…in the pool.”

You knew he would ask you eventually so you might as well just tell him now and get it over with. “I don’t know…I just…wasn’t sure how to feel and was hoping you weren’t only doing it to take advantage of me.”

He walked up to you and kissed your forehead. “Oh Baby, I would never do that to you. I love you and I can’t ever say it or do anything about it because your brother’s always around. I’m sorry if I came off so strong but don’t ever think I’d do anything to take advantage of you. I love you, yeah?”

He rubbed his thumb over your hand and tilted his head waiting for you to nod your head. It took a heavy weight off your shoulders to hear him express his true feelings and being that he said it so easily helped you understand how genuine he was being.

“My room is all yours Baby, it’s the last door at the end of the hall. You can wear whatever you want and there’s towels in the closet in the bathroom.”

“Thank you for letting me stay Channie.” You stood on your tip toes and kissed him on the cheek and quickly ran away, leaving him in the kitchen with red ears.

You felt refreshed after your shower and even more comfortable as you slipped into one of his shirts. Since you didn’t bring a change of clothes, his shirt was the only thing covering you and barely so. You hopped into his king sized bed and playfully rolled around, enjoying the big size.

You looked over at the digital clock on the nightstand, it had already been more than an hour since everyone went to bed. You weren’t sleepy though, so you pulled out your phone and scrolled aimlessly on your socials. A soft knock on the door turned your attention towards it.

“Come in.”

Chan walked through the door, smiling when he saw you so comfy in his bed. “I couldn’t sleep but I also didn’t try…and, I can’t let you leave before I kiss you again.”

“Well good because I was thinking the same thing.”

He fully shut the door and locked it before he removed his shirt and hopped in the bed with you, lips immediately catching yours. His hands came up to grope your breasts roughly, sucking and biting your bottom lip as he did so. He slid a hand under your shirt, breaking the kiss when he felt your bare skin.

“God Baby, you’re driving me crazy. Seeing you in nothing but my shirt is making me sooo hard.” You took his hand in yours and moved it over your pussy. “Fuck…so wet already.”

He moved down closer to the edge of the bed and kissed his way down from your stomach. He gave you butterflies in the best way possible. His lips danced across the skin on your inner thighs sending tingles up your spine.

“Channie…” you say breathlessly and he looks up at you as his mouth attaches to your sensitive bud.

With his head between your legs, messily eating your pussy, your eyes were squeezed shut. It took every bone in your body to not moan, knowing that if you did, you would be loud. He sensed it, so he stopped eating you out and crawled on top of you.

He used two fingers to slip into you while his thumb pressed down harshly on your clit. “Don’t hide them from me, I wanna hear them.”

“B-but my brother is here.”

“And I want to hear how good I make you feel. Don’t hold back Baby, lemme hear your pretty moans.” His fingers sped up their pace, not giving you any other option. You moaned as your back arched slightly. “That’s it Baby, good girl.”

It turned him on watching how his actions made you react but he needed more; needed to feel the way your pussy wrapped around him like it didn’t want to let him go. You reached out to pull on his shorts and finally free his achingly hard dick from its confines. He was BIG but what did you really expect, it was just really really intimidating. None of that mattered though, you just wanted him in you without any interruptions.

He hissed when he used your arousal to mix with his and coat his length. He gave it a few pumps before he eased the head past your entrance. “I’ll go slow okay baby?”

“Okay Channie just keep going, please don’t stop.”

He caught his lip between his teeth, feeling the lust course through his veins hearing you beg and feeling the tightness of your walls. He watched your face contort in pleasure.

He was barely half way in, stretching you open with ease. “T-too big Channie…” You eyes were rolling back and you were already slurring your words.

“You can take it, look you’re doing so well for me Baby” he touched his forehead to yours and grabbed you by the jaw and kissed you again, “you feel so good Baby, so so fucking good, such a good girl for me.”

When he bottomed out he leaned over you to catch his breath so he wouldn’t cum too quickly. Your head was spinning. His body pressed into yours and the way he spoke to you already had your toes curling. He pulled out to the tip, your pussy making a squelching noise, and he quickly thrust himself back in. Your back arched off the bed and you almost screamed.

As much as you wanted to keep your sounds at bay, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep the volume down to a minimum. He snapped his hips forward with desperation, grunts and moans falling from the both of you. His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing enough to make your head get fuzzy and awaken every nerve in your body. He pounded into you with no remorse, making this worth the long wait.

He suddenly pulled out, causing you to whine in response, and sat against the headboard. “Come ride me, wanna feel you in this position.”

You crawled over to him then hovered over his still hard, leaking dick. You sank down on him, taking small breaks so you wouldn’t faint from the pleasure. He bucked his hips up, making you drop down fully. He held you under your butt, spreading your pussy open to help you bounce on his dick easily.

The more you hopped up and down on him, the more you felt the sticky substances mix and connect the two of you. Your legs gave out when he started to thrust up into you every time you dropped down. He repositioned you so that you were on your knees, leaning forward into him. He grabbed a handful of your hair, your back arching more, as he hugged you and fucked you violently. The new angle made him abuse your sweet spot.

“Letting me fuck you with your brother just down the hall, I didn’t know you were such a slut Baby.”

“Mmm ah! Only for you Channie!”

He held you tighter when he felt your pussy clench around him. This is exactly what he wanted, what he dreamed of. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer himself, so he quickly flipped you onto your back again. One hand on the back of one of your knees and the other rubbing harsh circles on your clit.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck Channie I’m gonna cum!”

“You gonna cum? Yeah? Cum with me, make a mess all over my dick.”

He thrust deeper into you and bent down to suck on one of your nipples. A few more loud moans and circles on your clit and your pussy fluttered as you reached your orgasm. He didn’t stop and kept up his quick pace until you squirted all over him and the sheets below.

“Fuuuuuck” his hips stuttered and he pushed himself deep as he painted your walls white. He pulled out quickly, the rest of his cum spilling into his hands and seeping through his fingers.

When you looked down, you couldn’t help but grab his hands to put his fingers in your mouth. Funny enough, the cum looks just like the way you love your ice cream.

“Channie, I think you’re my favorite flavor.”

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 8 (part one)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 4.1k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

additional chapter cw! suggestive moments, mature readers only

Carter could hear his car approaching before it even came into view.

She had been grounded for two weeks, caught out with Topper on his granddad’s boat past curfew, and she had never been more bored in her life. Slumped back on the couch, she dipped her hand in the bag to grab another chip, pausing mid-bite when she heard the familiar hum of Rafe’s truck engine growl down the street.

“Oh fuck no,” she hopped off the couch, a trail of crumbs in her wake as she jogged to the front door. 

Though she knew you were away for the afternoon, your mom taking you to tour a local college on the mainland, she instinctively double checked that your car was still gone. She was thankful you weren’t here to see him in his oversized ego-mobile zipping down your street like he owned it.

You’d been devastated all week, crying yourself to sleep in the wake of seeing Rafe kiss Cassie Bryant. Nothing made Carter angrier than knowing you were hurt and not being able to do anything about it. 

She couldn’t believe his nerve to show up here. He’d been texting to you all week, clearly not taking your lack of response for the answer that it was. You were finally finding the strength to stay away from him, and she was not about to let that unravel.

She stood on the front porch, closing the door firmly behind her, arms crossed and stance wide like she was prepared to defend her castle. Really, she was prepared to defend you.

Rafe parallel parked on the street, some misogynistic country song blaring from his subwoofers. Carter rolled her eyes at the way his massive truck took up enough space for two cars, always claiming what wasn’t his, taking and taking and giving nothing in return.

Closing the driver’s door with a bang, Rafe hopped down from his truck and strolled toward the house, stopping short in the front walk when he noticed Carter glaring out at him.

“You have some fucking nerve, Cameron,” she spat at him.

“I’m not here for you,” he glared back.

“Well no one else in this house wants to talk to your ass right now so you can go ahead and turn right back around.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I just wanna know why she wasn’t at my game today.”

“Uh-oh,” she tilted her head in mock-sympathy, “did ya lose?”

He clenched his jaw, an angry huff of air flaring his nostrils, “yeah, we lost.”

“Good.”

“Can you just let me in?” He started moving toward the front steps, but she didn’t move from her spot blocking the door. “I need to talk to her and she’s not answering my texts.”

“Do you think that’s an accident?” She scoffed. “Take a hint.”

“Okay, what’s your fucking problem, Carter?” He snapped the sentence off with a bite of her name.

“You’re my problem, Rafe,” she bit right back.

“What the fuck did I do? Why isn’t your sister answering my calls?”

“I dunno, maybe you should ask Cassie Bryant,” her hands uncrossed and rested on her hips.

Rafe stepped back, head dropping back in exasperation as he rolled his eyes at the sky.

“That’s what this is about? Cassie and I are just hooking up, what’s the big deal?”

“You mean besides the fact that Cassie’s made my sister’s life hell since they were in the same Kindergarten class?” She threw at him. “Or that you’ve been dragging my sister along since she was six years old just to ditch her for some wannabe Addison Rae tiktok flop?”

“God, you’re always so fucking dramatic, it isn’t even like that,” he gestured toward the window of your bedroom, still assuming you were up there somewhere avoiding him, “your sister knows we’re cool.”

“You’re not cool, Rafe. You’re an idiot,” she told him with a pitying shake of her head. 

Rafe turned her words over in his head, finally stopping long enough to consider the possibility that he’d done more damage than he initially thought.

“Is she really mad at me?” He mumbled, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Carter sighed, “No. She’s not mad at you. She’s never mad at you, that’s the problem. You don’t make her mad, you make her sad. All you ever do is make her sad.”

Shoulders falling, Rafe looked past Carter with a vacant stare. He looked so confused and distraught she almost felt bad for him. Almost. 

“I didn’t mean to make her sad,” he mumbled, almost at a whisper.

Carter scanned him with narrowed eyes, trying to decide if his penance was sincere. He looked down at his shoes, digging the tip of one into the stony walkway.

“How do I fix it?”

Carter started to think maybe he was sincere after all, but she still wasn’t sure he was in any place to be asking for advice.

“I don’t know if you can,” she told him.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he said hopefully, trying to console himself. “She’ll come around.”

He looked at Carter like he was actually expecting her to agree.

“And then what, Rafe?” She tilted her head, genuinely curious about the answer. “What’s the end game here? You’ll just make her sad for a few more months and then go off to school and…what?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged defensively. “I haven’t thought about it.”

“Exactly. You don’t think things through. That’s always been your problem,” she informed him, “you just do what you want and pay no attention to how it affects other people. If you really cared about her, you wouldn’t keep putting her through the same shit over and over.”

“I do care about her,” he mumbled, her words beginning to penetrate his carefully constructed antagonistic armor.

“I wish I could believe that,” she shook her head sadly, “I wish she could believe that. At least when she did, she wasn’t crying herself to sleep every night.”

Sour regret burned in his throat at the thought of your tears dripping onto your pillowcase, some unfamiliar heartache he didn’t understand. 

“Maybe you could convince her that I do,” he offered, “she listens to you.”

“Why would I do that?” Carter snapped.

“Because then she wouldn’t be so sad,” his voice was so feeble it was like he was shrinking right before her eyes, his tall, intimidating frame so small and inadequate under the towering shadow of his guilt.

“Tell you what Rafe,” she began, “I’ll try and convince her that you care about her if you can look me in the eyes and tell me with your whole chest that you won’t hurt her anymore, that you won’t use her to your advantage, or drop off the face of the earth for weeks not answering her texts, or kiss other girls right in front of her face. That you’ll fight for her and put her before your own selfish bullshit. Can you make that promise?”

He wrung his hands, mindlessly adjusting the ring on his right forefinger, jaw clenched as he tried to will forth a convincing enough yes. He couldn’t do it.

“That’s what I thought,” Carter said. “If you can’t fight for her, then…”

“What?” He asked desperately, hoping she’d offer him some olive branch shaped way out of the  shame engulfing his chest.

“Then I am asking you- begging you really - to let her go. Stop texting, stop coming by the house, stop making promises you’re not gonna keep. Please. If not for me, then for her.”

“Do you think that’s what she wants?” He asked.

“No. But I think it’s what she needs,” she said, knowing it would kill you if you knew she was doing this, but believing with her whole heart that it was right.

Rafe rarely thought about the future. The farthest his mind went was the next few minutes in front of him. It was his fatal flaw, acting for the moment and not for the moment after, or the version of himself that would face the consequences of his poor choices. Yet, in this moment, he had the keen sense that his next move would be a pivotal one, the gravity of it making his feet feel heavy on the stone pathway. He could stay, he could argue, scream your name until you came out and talked to him. But then what? Would he have the courage to follow through? Was he enough of a man to handle the weight of your expectation?

Ultimately, he knew the right thing was to stay and fight, but the easy thing would be to just go.

So, as he almost always did, Rafe made the easy choice.

“Okay,” he nodded to Carter. “I’ll let her go.”

“Thank you,” she said, voice shaking with the fear that if you knew what she just convinced him to do, you’d never forgive her. 

“I’m not doing it for you,” he made sure she knew before turning and climbing back into his truck.

Once in the driver’s seat, he pulled out his phone, looking at your name in his contacts. Like his fingers were moving without his mind’s permission, he deleted you. It didn’t matter really, he thought, he’d remember your number on his deathbed. He’d remember it all, and he’d hate himself forever for driving away.

Carter stayed on the porch, watching him go, praying desperately that you’d never find out she was the reason he left.

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“We’re gonna have to go back eventually,” you said.

Rafe sat behind you in the sand, holding you with his chin resting easy on your shoulder as you took in the sprawling pink sunrise together. 

“Says who?” He countered.

You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. His eyelids were heavy, purple under the eyes from the exhaustion of being awake all night.

“You’re falling asleep,” you noticed.

“Yeah because some girl kept me up all night, begging me to take her to the beach and kiss her,” he joked.

“Excuse me, sir, this was your idea!” You sat up and stretched, your words making him laugh despite his immediate discomfort at the loss of your body in his arms. “What time is it anyway?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “my phone’s in the car.”

“Mine too,” you chuckled, “I hope Carter’s okay. She was looking rough before we left.”

He had half a mind to propose the two of you never leave the beach, but he could hear the genuine concern under your lighthearted words. He stood from the sand and dusted himself off, reaching out a hand to pull you to your feet. You took it with a smile, lingering for a moment as you stood, your hand in his, taking one last look around the beach, searching for some kind of landmark.

“What are you looking for?” He asked.

“I just want to remember exactly where we were,” you explained.

“Why, you wanna recreate it?” He smiled softly at you.

“Oh, I plan to recreate it many times,” you wink at him.

It took all his strength to leave that spot and head back to the car, back to the house full of people who weren’t you, back to reality.

“I can drive,” he suggested, planning to take the slowest route possible, and actually follow the speed limit for the first time in his life.

As soon as he started the car up, your CD started blasting through the speakers. You laughed at each other, the catalyst of this whole encounter feeling like it was days ago. The time on the car radio told you it’d only been about two hours. You lifted your phone but the screen remained black.

“Shit, it’s dead,” you told him, opening the glovebox and digging around for a charger.

While you were distracted, Rafe lifted his own phone from the cupholder he’d left it in. His screen did light up, displaying a slew of frantic texts from Topper and Kelce. He winced, wishing he hadn’t looked. He didn’t read the texts, not wanting whatever nonsense they were bothering him with to pop the blissful bubble wrapped around the two of you. He knew he shouldn’t start off your new…whatever this was…by lying to you, but he needed to stay in this happy place just a little longer.

“Mine’s dead too,” he lied, flipping the phone over in the cup holder to hide the screen.

“Of course Carter doesn’t have a charger,” you sighed, “she has like twenty hair ties and lipglosses, but no charger. Classic.”

“I know my way back,” he shrugged, “we’ll be good.”

Rafe put the car in reverse, backing out of the little side road with his arm on the seat next to your head. You watched the way he turned in his seat to look out the back window, neck muscles flexing with the stretch and his big hand manipulating the steering wheel with ease. 

For the first time in the sixteen years you’d known him, you didn’t try to hide your gaze as you took him in. The same attraction that used to make you feel skittish and ashamed now settled over you peacefully, like an icy winter finally melting into a warm, bright spring. You looked at him all you wanted, noting every detail, taking mental photographs of every inch of his skin.

You’d always thought he was cute - actually, no, you always thought he was hot as fuck - but now for the first time, you allowed yourself to look long enough to notice how beautiful he was. Pins and needles burst out all over your body as you realized how badly you needed to kiss him again.

Rafe could feel your eyes on him as he drove, choosing not to say anything and risk you looking away. He felt at home in your gaze, happier than he could ever remember being.

Inhibitions left back on the beach, you fearlessly reached out toward him, hand grazing gently over his jaw. You loved the ticklish little stubble that had grown there in just a few days without shaving. You smiled as you thought about the boy who could barely grow peach fuzz, now a man, strong and solid under your fingertips. Something warm and electric buzzed in your stomach, and you knew Rafe could feel it too, his skin heating under your tender touch.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, keeping his eyes on the road but leaning slightly into your hand to encourage you to keep touching him.

“Nothing,” you smiled, “I’ve just never gotten to look at you this long.”

“Is it making you change your mind?” He smirked, clearly not worried about the answer, his confidence making him impossibly sexier.

“Just the opposite,” you confirmed, “I think you’re always gonna have to drive from now on.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well now that I’ve gotten a good look I don’t think I could keep my eyes on the road. I always had the hardest time not looking over at you.”

Rafe grinned wide as your hand slipped from his jaw to the back of his head, fingers lacing in his soft hair, scratching his scalp lovingly. There was no rhyme or reason to your movements, but you didn’t care, you just needed your hands on him. He didn’t seem to mind, head leaning back into your palm to let you know he needed you as much as you needed him.

“I know you did,” he said.

“How?” You asked.

“Because I could never keep myself from looking over at you,” he confessed.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttered their way through your chest. Now you were certain- you’d never been more attracted to anyone as you were to him in this moment.

Rafe took your silent smile as a good sign, “did I get another A with that line?”

Your hand slid slowly down to his shoulder, over the ridges and ripples of his arms, flexing under your soft touch, until you found his hand, pulling it into your own. 

“Gold stars, baby,” you smiled.

Rafe’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, the air in the car becoming thicker by the second as he shifted in his seat. You beamed at him, realizing with a flurry of excitement - you had Rafe Cameron flustered.

“You like when I call you baby?” You purred, eager to see how far you could push it.

His grip tightened around your hand, “you can’t say shit like that to me when I’m driving.”

You could feel the dam breaking. You needed him. Now.

“Then pull over.”

He finally took his eyes off the road for a second at that, looking over at you for confirmation; are you serious? You gave him a steely, lustful look in return; as a heart attack.

Rafe practically popped a tire turning the wheel hard and pulling the car down a side street, driving until he found a little secluded enclave by the beach, a perfectly private spot. He threw the car in park, making you laugh at the jolt it gave with his urgency. He didn’t waste a second, reaching both hands over to grab your face and pull your lips to his.

You sighed into his mouth, no hesitancy holding you back from slipping your tongue between his lips. He pulled away just long enough to grit out a raspy, “come here,” before throwing his seatbelt off.

You unbuckled your own, holding tight to his shoulders as you swung your leg over the console and climbed, somewhat awkwardly, into his lap. Your head fell back in laughter as your butt accidentally pressed the horn, the sound blasting through the quiet morning air. Rafe laughed too, easing your slight embarrassment as he reached down to slide the seat back.

Once you had more room, you pulled back to get a better look at him. He looked up at you with wide blue eyes, so gentle and kind in the way they took you in. Rafe reached up and brushed your hair over your shoulder, taking a deep breath as his hands grazed your shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispered to fill the silence.

You cracked the slightest smile, unable to repress your amusement.

“What?” He puzzled.

“I just didn’t imagine you to be so…sweet like this,” you explained, though you hated how the words sounded coming out of your mouth, afraid it would sound like a criticism and cause him to withdraw.

“Only for you,” he said.

“Uh oh,” you teased, hands laying flat over his chest as you leaned forward, relieved you hadn’t ruined the moment after all, “is big bad Rafe Cameron going weak for me?”

“He always has been,” he nodded, his dimples creasing his cheeks with his sheepish smile.

You slid your hands up to either side of his face, thumbs dipping into his dimples. You’d always wanted to do that. You couldn’t believe that after all that waiting and longing, you really could just lean forward and kiss him if you wanted to. 

So you did, like you were trying to prove to yourself that this was actually real. The second your lips met his, you could tell he was thinking the same exact thing.

Rafe’s hands gripped your hips as he sat up off the seat just slightly to meet your mouth fervently. You bent over him, your hair falling in a curtain around his face. His hands felt so good, so right, warm and strong against you. You smiled into the kiss as you could feel them sliding so slowly, reverently, over your curves, until they found a home on your lower back, bringing you forward to rest fully against him. It was the same gentle control he had taken on the jetski, and it was addictive.

He was hard, you could feel him firm beneath you, and your head flooded with lustful thoughts. You rolled your body just slightly against him, but he felt every second of it, his hands sliding lower until he was kneading the flesh of your ass. Breathless, you paused, forehead against, another roll of your body as you pressed into him.

“Do you want me to stop?” He breathed, chest rising and falling with heavy pants.

“No, don’t, I’ve wanted this for so long,” it came out more desperate than you planned, but you didn’t care, you needed him to know.

“Me too, kid, you have no idea,” he smiled.

Your nose scrunched, pulling back to look at him with narrow eyes, “kid? Really?”

“Well you don’t like when I call you baby, so…”

“That is not what I said,” you laughed, “I said don’t say things you don’t mean. You can call me whatever you want, as long as you mean it”

“In that case…” he leaned in again, hands on either side of your face as his lips met yours before pulling away to meet your eyes as he said, “hey baby.”

You melted into him, his hands cradling your head the only thing keeping you grounded to the planet. He littered your face and jaw with slow, deliberate kisses, working his way toward your neck as he whispered more sweet pet names into your skin.

“Beautiful,” with a kiss to your jaw, “angel,” with a kiss to your neck, just below your ear, “my girl,” with a kiss to your collarbone, lingering to suck on the skin right at the base of your neck, marking you lightly.

Your whole body pulled him in tighter, dizzy with the ecstasy of having him like this. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging just hard enough to tell him how good he was making you feel. You couldn’t resist but push down into his hardness, muscles tense as his lips tickled the sensitive skin around the collar of your shirt.

“Rafe…” you sighed out as he continued to suck lip shaped marks into you, his hands kneading your ass, arms strong around you like he alone was the one keeping you tethered to the earth.

He pulled away from you just far enough to look you in the eyes, his pupils blown out. There was a kind of darkness in his eyes, sending excitement, and maybe even a touch of fear, shooting through your body. You wondered what would happen if he dropped the gentleness and really seized control, longing to be the one to send him to that place.

“Are you?” He whispered. Hunger, lust, and some more vulnerable third thing laced the deep tenor of his voice as his eyes searched yours, “are you my girl?”

His brows were furrowed so tight with intensity, you worried he was gonna give himself a headache. 

You ran your thumb over the scrunched skin on his forehead, smoothing it out, gentle but firm. You continued to run your fingers over his face, both to put him at ease and to buy yourself time, the answer to his question stuck somewhere in your chest, unwilling or unable to make its way to your tongue.

“I…” you started, the worry growing back on his face at the sound of your hesitation.

Before you could finish the thought, a loud DING! rang out through the quiet car, making you both jump.

“I thought you said your phone was dead?” You questioned, more edge to your tone than you’d meant, frustration over the interruption seeping into your words.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I just wanted more time with you.”

“It’s okay,” you said, a bit non-committal in your forgiveness. “Who is it?”

Rafe sighed as he retrieved his phone from the cupholder, reading the most recent message.

“It’s Top,” he answered, “he’s saying we should get back to the house but won’t say why. So dramatic.”

You chuckled softly, relief washing through Rafe at the return of your smile.

“We should probably go then,” you said, “if for no other reason than I’m nosy and want to know what’s going on.”

He nodded slowly, hands reluctantly letting you go “we’ll come back to this, though, right?”

You knew he meant more than just the kiss and your intimate position in Carter’s front seat. He meant this; the big ‘What Are We?’

Never in a million years would you have guessed that he’d be the one posing the question, or that you’d have this hard of a time coming up with the answer.

(Chapter 8: part two)

a/n: entering my 'posting what's ready when it's ready and not caring about word count' era, welcome!!

please note, i've closed the taglist for this story. to be first to know when i post please follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifications 💘

[tinythebunni]

rafe had his eyes on you for a while. you were new to the island and everyone wanted to be by you. you seemed to have this energy that attracted everyone, like a fucking magnet.

rafe couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. you were everything he could want in a girl. tall, slim, curvy, shiny skin, beautiful hair, and most of all you were so feminine. he loved a girl he could take care of, provide for even.

he first saw you at the country club. you were clad in skimpy pink bikini with white polka dots, a white bow in the side of your hair, and white flats on. you read some magazine he couldn’t be bothered to even pay attention to. for right now, you were his main object of his attention. you could feel his eyes on you, you usually did.

you’d been here only two weeks and you knew all about the infamous rafe cameron. there were rumors he killed some cop and he had a drug problem.

people said he was one of the most fun people in the world but he would blow up in the quarter of a second. no girl could hold him down and he always got what he wanted. everyone wanted to be him or fuck him.

he’d made slight advances in the short amount of time you’ve been in the outer banks. holding a door open for you, paying for your drink, offering to apply your sunscreen while you tanned at the beach, the whole shabang.

you didn’t give him the slightest ounce of your attention. you wanted him to work for it. obviously you wanted him but you can’t let him know that! if rafe always got what he wanted then he wouldn’t mind a challenge.

you liked this game of cat and mouse you guys played. you didn’t know how much longer you could take it though. your friend daphne had invited you to some kook party at her stupid chad bfs house.

you went of course because rafe would be there. and you wanted him to see you, especially in this outfit. a lacy pink halter neck and pink mini skirt with ties on the sides. it showed just enough of skin to make him crazy. you wanted him to know what he was missing out on.

who knows? maybe tonight you’ll let him have a taste.

after a while of being at the party you started to get a bit bored. there were people making out in the corners, the alcohol tasted shit, and rafe still wasn’t here.

you were slightly buzzed and contemplating walking out when you saw him. he wore only a white wife beater and some denim jeans. what really caught your attention was the way his eyes were immediately on you when he came in.

he looked you over, greeting a few people, but not once did his eyes stray off you.

“top, i gotta go handle something. i’ll catch ya later.” and with that he strides over to you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you into a room upstairs.

you had butterflies in your stomach. after a month he couldn’t take it anymore. you were excited to see what he would do now.

he swiftly locked the door and turned towards you with an almost primal look in his eyes. you giggle as he rubs the back of his neck and glares.

“do you think this shit is fuckin funny? been wanting you for months and you think it’s game. do you know how hard you make me? those skimpy fucking skirts and that coy smile.“

you were positive you looked like a fish out of water right now. you could feel a heat rising in your belly and a blush flushing your checks and neck.

“i didn’t know i affected you that much” you whispered.

“bullshit. i see you close your thighs each time i fucking look at you. can barely focus on anything when you’re near by.”

rafe is stalking towards you now, and you back up more and more until your knees finally hit the bed. he pushes you back until your lying on your back, with only your elbows and forearms holding you up.

he pulls your skirt over your tummy, glancing up at you as he places a kiss on your thigh.

“tell me this is okay. i needa know what you taste like. i can’t fucking stand it. so close to your pussy i can practically feel you on my tongue already.”

you give a shaky nod but that’s not enough.

he pinches the inside of your thigh and shakes his head with disapproval.

“no. baby i need words. use your voice, ain’t even touched you yet so i know you’re not fucked out already.”

“yes, yes rafe this is okay! please i need it” you whine while your lips pout slightly.

he was being so mean right now! is this what it felt like for him all this time?

he places a kiss on your clit over your panties and thumbs at your entrance. he smoothes your arousal over your lips and curses under his breath.

rafe takes his time making you whimper and whine. you push your hips up for some kind of friction, something more than he’s giving you. he uses his left hand to hold you down while his right pushes down on your clit, the pressure making your eyes roll back.

“calm down sweet thing. s’okay. m jus getting you ready. been dreaming bout this and i wanna take my time”

the cameron boy takes off your underwear and pauses. you can’t tell if he’s in awe or disgusted.

“so fucking pretty baby. is this all for me?” he questions as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

“rafe of course it is, do you see anybody else in this fucking room?” you’re mad now, you’re so fucking horny and he’s being a tease!

“alright alright” he laughs, placing a kiss to your thigh and looking up at you one last time.

“not letting you go after this is done. you’re mine.”

[bugeyedfreaks]

Am a different anon but also not commenting on the shipping thing (they're more nostalgic ships than dedicated. I just know I shipped them because I like romance and puppy love.)

I wanted to comment on about the boys being "pure evil/bad" as I want to at least point out a flaw in that argument.

First:

The Powerpuff Girls are not pure good/innocent, and therefore cannot be perfect or the expectation of it.

Blossom has reasoned herself that stealing was okay if it was for people she loved.

Buttercup provoked and beat up villains to take their teeth for money.

Bubbles has challenged her aggression to be more extreme based on insecurities of being seen soft.

The girls have lied and hid facts or truths from others if it meant they benefitted.

These are negative traits that "pureness" cannot contain, making the girls lean toward good/Justice but still be flawed to always making the correct choices.

Second:

This if the girls are not purely good, then it should be fair to state the boys are not purely bad/evil. There can also be the argument that the RRB¹ (Mojo original) may be different from RRB² (HIM iteration). This would mean that RRB¹ have the potentially to be good (non-Hellish origins to corrupt) while RRB² may be generally Hellish due to HIM's influence of their resurrection.

I am not stating the boys in canon would become heros or true neutrals — but that depending if one argues RRB¹ or RRB², they will be flawed in their own moral code just like the girls. They could be persuaded to do good IF given an incentive to follow, just as their counterparts did for "bad" things.

However, in the truth of the general matter — the PPG Crew did not care to give depth or matter to the RRB. They are just vague opposites of the girls. They were not intended to be developed characters, simply "bad boys" with Brick being the speak, and Butch & Boomer are nearly identical in mannerisms. (Seriously, both have virtually no lines, and depending on the episode, both say something or behave in an obsurd/hyperactive way that is the same).

The comics present a more interesting dynamic of the boys as more rivals more than just "plotting villains".

This whole discussion came from me saying that I think there’s a reason why the girls have imperfections and how the boys’ situation isn’t the same, therefore the opposite situation would not be true.

[lady-ashfade]

Our comfort

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)

—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.

—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.

You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.

But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.

The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.

You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.

Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.

Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.

So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.

The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.

Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.

Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.

Many games of all houses take place just for you.

AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.

Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.

When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.

So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.

Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.

He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.

“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 

Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.

When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.

So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?

He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.

You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.

[gloomwitchwrites]

You send him a text "Thanks for the flowers, babe" attached with a photo of a bouquet as a prank. Obvs, he gets jealous/possessive.

Anon, I love this. I cackled the first time I read it, and I've been wanting to get to it for a while. There are so many requests (and I will get to them all), but with my health being shit, I'm trying to select from the pool where I'm not overworking my brain or stressing myself out trying to come up with something. This prompt came very naturally to me.

These are all spicy. Period. I didn't hold back with this one. Maybe I'm ovulating or some shit but I literally couldn't write anything but smut for this prompt. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope you enjoy.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: swearing, dirty talk, praise, spanking, oral sex (female & male receiving), face fucking, restraints, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, jealousy, possessive behavior, orgasm control

Word Count: 4.4k

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it, attention stuck on Price who stands in front of a large map of Europe.

There are pictures—some have a red “X” through them while a couple others have black question marks. The mission isn’t done, but that isn’t surprising. This has taken months to complete. It’s been slow, and entirely too complicated for Simon’s liking.

His phone buzzes again, the vibration pulling his attention away.

When the third buzz comes in, his agitation turns to worry. Simon never allows messages to come through at work unless it’s from very specific people. To have three come through in less than two minutes stirs something in his gut.

Price starts talking again but Simon’s brain is melting. He reaches into his pocket and fishes out his phone. Keeping it next to his thigh, Simon awakens the screen.

Your name is there and 3 new messages.

Simon glances up, but no one is looking at him. Silently, he unlocks the phone and clicks over to his messages, tapping on your name.

At first, Simon doesn’t understand. His brain short-circuits, and then unbridled jealousy comes roaring forward.

The first message is a photo of a beautiful bouquet sitting on the kitchen island. It’s fucking large, taking up most of the space. The flowers are different shades of pink, yellow, and orange. It looks like spring.

Beneath the picture are two texts.

Thanks for the flowers!!

I love you!

But Simon did not get you flowers. He didn’t order these, and he certainly didn’t have them delivered to the flat.

Fuck. What the actual fuck.

Someone else did this.

Simon’s first thought is that Johnny did it to prank him. But Johnny has been a bit subdued today, and his attention isn’t on Simon at all.

No. It’s likely not him.

Simon locks his phone and stews. He can’t just leave this meeting. It’s important, but he’s going to get to the fucking bottom of it.

By the time Price dismisses them, Simon is already out the door, charging toward his locker to grab his stuff. It usually takes him a half hour to arrive home, but today he does it in twenty. When Simon bursts through the front door, he’s ready to toss those flowers right off the balcony.

But then he sees your face—how happy you are—and Simon melts. You throw yourself into his arms, and Simon instinctually responds, embracing you tightly. He presses his face into your hair and inhales.

“Missed you,” you say, grabbing both sides of his face and kissing him. “Thank you for the flowers.”

I didn’t get you any flowers.

Simon smiles because it’s all he can manage. That jealousy from earlier starts to curl back up, twisting around in his ribcage.

“Did you like the note?”

You frown. “What note?”

The way you ask is…odd. It’s far too innocent in the presentation. Simon knows your cues and this seems forced to him. But the sender didn’t leave a message. That doesn’t give Simon much to go on if he’s going to track down who sent them.

“Maybe they forgot,” he replies, kissing your forehead. “Show them to me.”

With a bright smile, you take his hand, guiding him into the kitchen. They’re much more stunning in person and Simon momentarily freezes. Did he forget your birthday? An anniversary? An important event?

Simon recalls nothing for today’s date.

The jealousy rises again but he clamps down on it. Anyone could have sent this, especially a friend of yours or a family member. Doesn’t mean there is someone out there with predatory intentions. And for all Simon knows, you’re having a laugh, riling me up. You’ve done it before.

“They’re lovely,” observes Simon. “Better than the picture.”

Your grin is gorgeous, a thing Simon wants to bottle up. You open your mouth to answer him but the dryer goes off. “Hold on,” you call over your shoulder as you dash away. “Let me change over the loads.”

When you disappear, Simon goes for the bouquet. He quickly checks through every flower and between the stems, even sticks his fingers in the dirt. Simon doesn’t know what the fuck he’s looking for, but he’s grasping for anything.

The only thing of note is the business card which Simon quickly plucks from its holder and tucks into his pocket. Simon steps away from the bouquet when you appear again.

Jealousy is stewing, showing its fangs, curling tighter around Simon’s ribs.

When you reach for him, Simon sweeps you off your feet, planting you on the kitchen island. You giggle, but Simon cuts it off, drawing you to the edge to seize your lips in a fierce kiss.

That jealous viper between his bones tells him to possess you.

Simon’s hands drop to your waist and then your hips. He settles himself between your legs, hands moving down to your bare thighs.

You’re flushed with embarrassment, attempting to hide your face from him, giggling his name as you fist his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” rasps Simon.

Your lips part and Simon slides his tongue inside. You moan, suck on his tongue, and release him. Simon’s grip on your thighs tightens.

“All day?” you ask softly.

Moving his hands to beneath your thighs, Simon tugs you into his arms and carries you over to the dining room table, but doesn’t place you on top of it. He brings you to your feet, and then his fingers curl around the shorts that are little more than underwear.

“Take these off.”

“Simon—”

“Do it,” he growls, releasing them and bringing his hand back to his side.

Slowly, you do as he says. You bring them up so that Simon can see them before tossing them to the side. That viper in him hisses, the venom leaking into his system.

Simon slides his hand between your thighs. You lean back against the table, hands resting on the edge as you part your legs. What his fingers find only makes him groan.

Withdrawing, Simon licks his fingers clean. “Turn around. Bend over the table. Show me what I want.” With a smirk on your lips, you face the table, and bend forward, going up on your toes.

Fuck the flowers and whoever sent them. You’re his.

Simon unbuckles the front of his belt, undoes the zipper of his pants, and frees his aching cock. He needs to be inside you, to hear you say his name, to feel you come around him. He needs to possess because it’s the only thing he can do right now.

Guiding with his hand, Simon rubs the head of his cock through your slickness. You’re already so wet for him—so fucking needy, and he’ll devour it all. Give you exactly what you want while taking something for him.

As he starts to slide in, you whimper. Reaching back, your hand grabs your ass, opening yourself a bit wider for him.

Bloody hell.

Simon doesn’t want to go slow. Using his grip on your hip, he slides all the way in, making you take him to the hilt with one forward thrust of his hips.

Your gasp is choked, and then Simon is lost, pounding into you as if this is the last time he’ll ever fuck you. It’s only your tightness, your breathy moans of pleasure, and the desperate why you say his name. It wraps around him, satiates the viper, calms the rising jealousy until it’s only you Simon can focus on.

Through the haze, Simon finds your clit, plays with it, slows his thrusts until your orgasm arrives, squeezing him so tight he almost finishes right then and there. But once that wave crests and crashes, Simon is back at it. Planting both hands on the table on either side of your waist, Simon stutters out, his lower back tensing, everything draw up.

Simon’s orgasm is an unraveling. All the tension melts as he finishes, and even then, he continues to thrust, pushing his cum deeper inside you. His chest heaves, body shuddering as he draws back a bit. Your breathing is just as labored.

Easing out of your body, Simon admires the bloom of cum at your entrance. He presses it back inside before helping you unbend from the table. Turning you around to face him, Simon claims your mouth in a deep kiss, his grasping the back of your head.

You form to him, and Simon’s hunger flares.

“To bed,” he says, drawing you away with a tug on your hair.

“To sleep?” you ask, smirking.

Maybe you did all this. Planned it all from the beginning.

Naughty girl.

Simon shakes his head. “Not yet.”

He releases you, and then smacks your ass for good measure. Squeaking, you scurry away toward the bedroom. Simon stands there for a moment, composing himself. Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws the business card. There is an address and a phone number.

Glancing over his shoulder at the bouquet, Simon comes to a decision. Stalking toward his duffle, Simon secures the business card in a side pocket. He’ll deal with this at work.

Right now, you’re getting undressed.

And Simon is much more interested in that.

Flowers can wait.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You send the final text and lock your phone, leaving it on the coffee table.

It’s just a little prank. A tease.

Kyle is always a gentleman even when he makes your toes curl and pulls unseemly sounds from between your lips. But riling him up can be just as fun. Kyle isn’t one to be jealous or even possessive of you. He’s certainly protective, and his presence always makes you feel safe, but you’re aching for something else right now.

The flowers weren’t all that expensive. And they are pretty.

Your phone buzzes. You ignore it.

It buzzes again.

When you check the screen, you see two new texts from Kyle. You stare at it, and set it back down. You’re going to let him stew and question. If anything, Kyle might think the flowers innocent.

Tapping your fingers against your knee, impatience stirring in your belly, you stare out the patio door. You need to distract yourself, but the urge to look is too strong. Snatching the phone back up, you glance at the messages.

That’s sweet, love.

But I didn’t get you flowers.

Honesty. This man is terrible at lying or hiding his feelings.

You tap out a reply.

Of course you did! Loved the note you left with it!

Kyle’s reply is instant.

Note?

You nearly cackle at the ceiling and when you hit send.

I want you tonight. You know you can have me whenever lol. No need to send flowers about it.

Within seconds of you hitting send, you phone starts to vibrate. Yelping, you nearly drop the thing. Kyle’s name and a photo of him at the beach pop up on your screen. You stare at it, allowing it to go to voicemail. He calls again immediately.

You launch off the couch, pacing as the phone falls back into voicemail. It’s a bit thrilling knowing that Kyle is likely worked up on the other end.

Answer the phone, comes Kyle’s next text, and then, I’m coming home.

Oh shit.

You are all nervous excitement waiting for him. And when he does come barreling through the door, you’re a bit shocked at the sight of him.

Slowly, he shuts the front door, striding into the kitchen where the bouquet is. He stares at it for a long moment before turning his gaze on you.

“Kyle,” you say brightly, walking toward him.

He holds up a finger and walks past you. You hear the opening and shutting of doors, of drawers being opened, and items moving around. Kyle returns, hands on his hips, concern on his features.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I didn’t send you those flowers.”

“Didn’t you?” you reply, innocently, moving toward them.

Kyle shoots forward and begins digging through the stems. “Where is that bloody card?” he mutters.

There is no card. No note. You made it all up.

“Kyle,” you say, but he ignores you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he says, ripping opening the plastic to see inside.

“Kyle,” you repeat, adding a bit of volume behind your voice.

Again, he ignores you, scattering the flowers across the countertop.

“When I find the fucking wanker that—”

“Kyle!”

He turns, eyes a bit wild. Kyle looks ridiculous, and you suddenly feel terrible. You reach for him, placing both hands on either side of his face. “There’s no note.”

Kyle blinks like he didn’t hear you correctly. “What?”

“There’s no note,” you repeat. “I bought the flo—”

Kyle groans loudly and places his entire hand over your face, muffling the last few words. “Bloody hell, baby girl.” He lightly pushes off, dropping his hand, and stepping back.

You grin sheepishly as Kyle crosses his arms over his chest.

“What was the goal?” he asks, leaning forward a bit.

You shrug your shoulders. “To rile you up?”

Kyle laughs, short and clipped. “Rile me up?”

“Yes,” you say slowly.

He leans in a bit more, a smirk on his face. “And what do you think was going to happen once you riled me up?”

You know that Kyle already knows the answer to this question. But he’s indulging you. As he always does.

“I didn’t think that far,” you reply, but it’s far from the truth.

You wanted to rile him up so that he’d come home and fuck you like a man possessed.

Kyle bites down on his bottom lip and you track the movement. “No, love. You did.” He straightens. “And I know what you want.”

Kyle steps into your space, his head dipping as if to kiss you but pausing just before. “You need a good throat fucking. I need an apology. And then I can give you what you want.”

“Kyle,” you breathe.

“On your knees, love. Present your mouth.”

You obediently drop to your knees, and part your lips.

“Wider,” he almost growls.

You do so just as Kyle reaches down and undoes the front of his belt. He doesn’t even look. Doesn’t flinch. The belt is gone and the front of his pants are open by the time Kyle grabs your face and brings you close.

“Tongue out.”

You do so, and Kyle taps the head of his cock against it before sliding it back and forth over your tongue. His hold shifts, falling to the nape of your neck.

“Take it like a good girl. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle draws you forward, forcing you to take all of him. Holding you in place for a few seconds, Kyle only eases you back once your gag reflex kicks in. Kyle adjusts his stance, and your hands grasp the sides of his thighs.

Kyle’s hand on the back of your neck tightens as his other hand tangles in your hair. Keeping you in place, he starts to thrust, fucking your mouth like he would your pussy. All you can do is cling to him, to hold on as he grunts above you.

There isn’t any anger there, just a stern brow and a need for control. It’s delicious. Entirely mouth-watering. Your core warms, a slickness blooming, indicating just how much this turns you on.

To bring Kyle toward his end, you make little sounds in your throat. It makes him stutter. It makes him moan. Beneath his pants, you feel the muscles in his legs tighten. And then he’s forcing you down his length, throating him entirely as he comes down your throat.

Breathing through you nose is the only thing holding you together. And when he slides you off, you cough, wiping at your lips.

Kyle’s hand caresses your cheek, drawing your gaze to him. He arches a single eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

Reaching out, Kyle draws you up to your feet, bringing you close. His smile is soft, and when he comes in for a kiss, it is consuming.

“Now that you’ve riled me up,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Kyle pulls away, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

“Take off your clothes. Kneel on the bed. And bend over. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle drops his hand.

“That’s my good girl.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny’s ears are ringing.

“You better be bloody joking,” he growls at his phone.

On the screen is a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Flowers that you’re thanking him for. Flowers that he didn’t send.

And the card? Bloody fucking hell. That card is going in the shredder. Johnny will tear it apart with his own teeth if he has to. Some fucker had the bright idea to send you flowers like he’s the one you’re dating.

No. Fuck that.

Johnny might be the demolitions expert, but he knows Ghost could dig around for him if he asked. Scratch that. Johnny is asking right fucking now.

“Hey, Lt!” Johnny jogs over to Ghost and turns his phone around. “Can you trace who sent these flowers?”

Ghost’s expression behind the balaclava remains flat. “It’s a fucking photo, Johnny.”

Cursing under his breath, Johnny forwards the image to Ghost. Ghost checks his phone, enlarging the image.

He grunts. “Should be easy.” Ghost glances up from the screen. “Why?”

“Someone making a move on my woman,” replies Johnny, holding back a growl.

“Done,” says Ghost. “Give me a couple hours.”

It doesn’t take Ghost long, and Johnny has to laugh out loud.

“You fucking naughty thing,” mutters Johnny as he unlocks the door to your flat.

When he enters, you’re nearly on your toes, eager for him. It’s cute, but you need to learn first. Sure, the prank is harmless, but you were wanting a rise out of him.

Punishment is needed.

“Johnny,” you say brightly, coming around the counter to greet him.

As you arms reach for him, Johnny removes his belt. Your gaze drops, but he is faster than you. Johnny has the belt around your wrists and secured before you can even protest.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.

“Thought I wouldn’t find out?” Johnny tuts. He yanks you forward, bringing the two of you almost face-to-face. “Bought those flowers yourself.”

Johnny tugs on the belt again. You stumble into him and he spins you around. With another quick tug, Johnny has the belt looped onto one of the coat hooks embedded in the wall.

Reaching down, Johnny palms your ass, his lips pressed to your ear. “Got me all jealous at work. Had Ghost stalking the flower shop and everything.” He squeezes, and then smacks your ass. Hard.

You whimper. “Johnny. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies, love.” He kisses your throat. Your skin is soft and he inhales, savoring your scent. You’re freshly showered, and the smell of your shampoo invades his nostrils.

It doesn’t take much to rid you of your underwear. It’s just you in an old shirt and your bare ass on full display. Johnny slides his hands between you clenched thighs.

“Spread them.”

You do so obediently and a primal part of him simmers with pleasure. Johnny slowly drops to his knees behind you. He savors the view, taking his time to enjoy the sight before him. Even from here, Johnny can see how slick you are. How wanton.

He’s going to devour you. Make you beg. Deny you what it is you most want until you’re a fucking mess for him. That’s punishment enough.

Johnny tests by running one finger over your pussy. It comes back glossy. He pops it into his mouth, groaning at your taste.

“Want me to eat this pretty pussy?” asks Johnny, running his finger over you again.

You nod frantically. “Yes. Please.”

That’s a start.

Johnny leans in, the tip of his tongue playing with your entrance. He traces it with his tongue before slipping inside, slowly fucking you with it. It’s not enough, but Johnny knows this. He needs to suck on your clit and give you his fingers to make you come.

But even then, you’ll have to wait.

You’ll have to beg.

Johnny trails upward, swirling his tongue, finding your clit. He teases it. Flicks it back and forth in a steady stroke. You’re already growing wetter. You’re already moaning above him. Too bad you don’t know what’s coming.

Johnny slides one finger inside of you, pumping twice before inserting a second. You’re tight around him. He can feel the stretch.

He works you slowly, lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of your pussy as he teases your clit with his tongue. Above him, your moans come unbroken and loud. It’s sweet. He loves the sound. But Johnny knows your tells, and when your muscles begin to clench and unclench quickly, he ceases all movement.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, glancing down.

Johnny chuckles. “You have to earn it love.”

“Johnny, please,” you beg.

“What’s that, love? Didn’t hear you?”

“Please,” you say, drawing it out.

“Please what?” he prompts.

“I want to come,” you murmur.

Johnny smirks and starts fucking you with his fingers again, but doesn’t put his mouth back on your clit. It’s not enough for you. You’re squirming. Wiggling. Needing more.

“You pull another stunt like this again, love, and this,” Johnny smacks your ass with a sharp thwack, “will be red.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny. Please. Just—please.”

Johnny teases your clit with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Beg some more.”

You do. All sorts of obscene things fall from your lips. When tears form in the corner of your eyes, Johnny finally gives you relief.

He fucks your gorgeous pussy with his fingers. He tastes and teases until you’re crying out, clamping around him as you come undone.

Johnny withdraws. Straightens.

You’re still hanging on the hook.

He frees you from it, but does not remove the belt from around your wrists. Johnny presses you against him with a flat palm upon your stomach.

“Don’t do that again,” he murmurs.

“I won’t.”

Johnny kisses your throat. “To bed.”

You frown, holding up your bound hands. “But the belt.”

“Stays on,” he says, fisting the tangling leather. “Until I’m done with you.”

John Price

John isn’t one for texting.

You’ll send him a barrage of texts only for him to call you hours later asking what you were texting him about.

Which is why you didn’t think this plan would work.

But then it did, and now you’re bent over John’s lap, bare ass in the air.

John told you that he was working late to catch up on paperwork. Whenever that happens, he always gives you a call to check-in and hear your voice. It’s routine at this point. A comfort. Most of the time, he just wants you on the other side, to have you talk about the day or whatever you want while he’s working. John will usually remain silent, listening, basking in your voice.

You planned it perfectly, knowing that he’d check his phone before giving you a call. You sent the photo of the flowers. A beautiful display really. And they were on sale. You also sent him a picture of the makeshift “note” that you made for it. All it said was “thinking of you” with no name. All of that was follow up by a “thank you” and promises to please him later.

John was calm when he called you—almost eerily so. When you thanked him from the flowers, he didn’t reply. He simply pushed past it. The thing is, John saved all of that energy up for when he came home.

Your ass stings. John rubs the spot he just smacked before squeezing.

“Now, love. Tell me the truth.” He says it so sweetly, like it’s such a simple thing.

And you don’t know how much longer you’ll last under this barrage.

“You bought them for me,” you whimper, keeping up the façade.

John shakes his head. “We both know that’s not true.” He squeezes your ass again, the sting burning slightly when he let’s go.

“I’d guess you’re seeing someone else but that would be lie. Wouldn’t it?”

He punctuates this statement by slipping his hand between your thighs, his fingers running over your pussy, parting your slickness. John dips one finger inside and then another, only to retreat and grab your ass cheek with the same hand.

“I know just how to make you wet, love. You have no one else to run to.”

“I told you—Fuck! John!” You jolt in his lap as his palm comes down on your already throbbing cheek.

“Be honest, love. Or you’ll get a few more.”

You swallow down your pride. You wanted him riled up, but you weren’t expecting this. Not for John to come home, strip you down, and bend you over his lap.

“I bought them,” you grumble.

John’s hand eases. “You what?”

“I bought them,” you snap.

“I knew you did.”

Before you have the chance to form a retort, John guides you up and into his lap. He grabs the front of your throat, bringing you close to him. He does not kiss you. He simply hovers.

“You’re going to straddle my lap and bounce on my cock until I fill you up. You understand?”

You nod, and Price let’s go of your throat.

“Get to it,” he purrs.

John is fully clothed, and you’re wearing nothing at all. You undo the clasp of his belt, pull the zipper, and he flexes his hips enough that you can work his pants down a bit. When his hard length is free to you, you straddle him, lining yourself up.

He remains impassive as you start to sink down. The stretch is perfect—as it always is, and you groan as you seat yourself entirely on his cock. Gripping his shoulders, you roll up and back down, rocking when you can to give your legs a break.

John still stays quiet but his gaze is assessing. Slowly, his hand comes around your neck again, and this time he squeezes slightly. It’s not to hurt. It’s to dominate and possess.

“Who do you belong to, love?” he asks.

“You,” you murmur, sinking down on him.

“Say it again,” repeats John.

“I belong to you,” you gasp, coming up and then back down.

“Again,” and this time there’s a growl in his tone.

“I’m yours, John.”

“Fucking right,” he says, crashing his mouth to yours.

The kiss is a claiming, one that shoots through your body and consumes your limbs and control. You shudder, pussy clenching, and then John is fucking up into you, his hands on your hips.

You’re no longer in control. It’s just John, and his need to possess.

taglist:

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[bweeeb]

PASSED OUT

Theodor Nott x you

Warnings: nothing much, very short, Theo being a little jealous, cute.

Summary: Where Theodore doesn't find his girlfriend the morning after a party.

it was past nine in the morning, and you were still missing after the party the night before. Pansy, Daphne, and you had managed to get your own private dorms at the beginning of the year, making it harder to know in whose bed any of you had passed out after taking several shots of totally mysterious drinks. However, you were the first to disappear from the party. You went up to the dorms because you started feeling too dizzy, and that’s why you ended up where you were now, lying with Mattheo's arms around you in his bed.

— Has anyone seen my girlfriend by any chance? She disappeared last night, and she's not in her room — Theo asked in the hall as the group walked towards the Slytherin common room.

— She vanished, maybe the Weasleys know — Draco joked, receiving a dirty look from Theodore.

— She’s not in any of our rooms — Pansy said, shaking her head.

— Did you check your room? — Daphne asked the boys.

— She's not there — Blaise denied, as his room was separate, being one of the seventh-year prefects.

— I would know if my girlfriend had slept in my room. Theo shook his head in disappointment.

— I didn't check because I slept in Astoria's room, but I think Mattheo went back there, so he would have told us if... uh, wait, Mattheo also didn’t show up — Draco cut himself off, giving a mischievous smile to Theodore, who looked irritated at Malfoy, licking his cheek impatiently.

— Shut up, Draco — Pansy pushed Draco, and the blond laughed, shrugging.

— Where could she be? — Without even thinking, when the group arrived at the common room, Theodore's steps lengthened to Draco and Mattheo’s room. The door was opened, and the sight of you and Riddle sleeping made Theo huff and cross his arms over his chest. She wouldn’t do anything... Theo thought, and he thought right.

With your eyes closed, you shifted in bed and softly sniffed the air, finding Theo’s scent in the room. Your hands rubbed your eyes, and as soon as they opened, the sight of Mattheo holding you made you frown slightly. It wasn’t unusual, but Theodore being at the same party as you would never let you go up alone and have Mattheo do it.

— What? — You murmured softly, and a groan came from the open door with your boyfriend looking as angry as the time you… actually, you couldn’t remember when he looked this mad. — Theo? — You said his name and sat up in bed quickly, looking at Mattheo's arms around your naked body. — Matt. Mattheo — You shook him with the intention of waking him up.

— What the fuck is this? — Theo asked, and you rubbed your face with your hands, groaning.

— I don’t know. Fuck, my head.

— Shh, go back to sleep, baby —. Mattheo murmured, and Theo’s face darkened.

— Shut up, Mattheo. You groaned pushing him away, but he was too sleepy to understand that the one he was grabbing was you and not some random girl he had slept with the night before.

— Get your hands off my girlfriend, Riddle — Nott moved forward, pulling Mattheo away from you and making Mattheo wake up on the floor.

— Dude, what’s this? Mattheo groaned and looked towards the bed, where you were without your clothes from the party last night. — Fuck, I didn’t fuck with her. Mattheo stepped forward, raising his hands.

— Nothing happened, Theo — You groaned, looking down to see yourself practically naked, you groaned once again and got up from the bed, walking over to your boyfriend with a pout on your lips.

— Why didn’t you come to me, Principessa?

— I looked for you, but I couldn’t find you, so I went to the room I thought was yours — You said with a headache, closing your eyes and resting your head on Theo’s chest. He hugged you, covering your semi-naked body.

— Idiot — Mattheo grumbled, throwing himself back onto the bed. — Your girlfriend is the best thing in the world to sleep cuddled with, Teddy bear. Her boobs are like pieces of cotton. Mattheo teased, and Theodore gave the middle finger to his friend, who smirked mockingly.

— Fuck you, Riddle. I'm hexing you until your next life.— he said, taking you to his own room, deciding what he would do with you.

--------

Requests are open✨

[seungfl0wer]

*Teach Me*

Parings: Hyunjin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Pure smut with some crack

Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Multiple creampies, multiple round, hint at breeding, mentions of masturbation, Hyunjin was a cat turned human. F Receiving, Not proofread. (I think that’s all?)

Link to the request Here. Such a good request uuugh thank you so much for this one. I hope you enjoy it!

A much asked for part two is here: “To much kitten?”

-🩵

You signed to yourself cleaning up the mess your new cat had just made. You left the room for 5 minutes to grab your brush just to come back to your cat knocking your positions off the shelf. You started to clean everything up the cream colored cat meowing at you. “Did you have to break them all?” You said glaring at him. You had just brought him home a few weeks ago, finding him alone in the forest where he would surly get eaten by a werewolf or worse.

The playful cat had jumped from where you had placed him away from all the mess to your back. You shook a bit trying to get him to come down to you to grab. He slipped down your side falling into a puddle of mixed positions. You quickly grab him, not knowing what he had fallen in or the reaction it might have. You quickly tried cleaning him and placed him in the bathtub where he couldn’t escape. He sat in there crying but you had to clean everything up. The potions themselves were harmless however mixing them together could cause anything honestly.

After you had everything cleaned you decided to run a bath for you and your kitty. Was he gonna like it? Honestly you had no idea you haven’t tried before. So you ran a nice warm bath for the both of you holding him in your arms as you slipped into the tub. Weirdly enough he didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t seem like he wanted to venture away from you but laying on your chest with the warm water touching him, he seemed calm.

You closed your eyes relaxing into the warmth. And then you hear a poof. Before you could open your eyes you heard the water spilling out of the tub. A hand grazed your side and you could feel legs between your own. You opened your eyes only to find your cute little cat turned into a human.

Eyes wide staring at the naked man above you. He looked like he was in shock he couldn’t move and your body was almost frozen as well. Both of you were literally naked in the tub together. You looked over him eyes wondering his body. His blonde hair plastered to his face. His muscles stiff as he held himself in place and his- “no no do not look” you said to yourself eyes back up to his face. You didn’t even have to look you could feel his cock laying on your leg. Your body was flushed pink it felt like hours had passed but it had only been about 5 minutes.

“Before you say anything just know this is your fault” you said looking up at the man. He tilted his head “maybe don’t have so many bottles around a cat” he rolled his eyes back at you. “So we just gonna stay here naked together?” He said with a smirk. You quickly pushed him off grabbing a towel for yourself rapping it around you. “Here’s a towel dry yourself off while I see if I have clothes for you.” You said leaving the bathroom.

What the fuck just happened. The potions that had combined must have turned him into a human. Of course they did. Just your luck you find a cute animal and it turns out to be a pretty man. You rummage through your closet finding an oversized shirt of yours and some basketball shorts he could wear for now. You came out to find the man in the living room, He was butt ass naked looking out the window.

“Someone gonna see you.” You said handing him the clothes “put these on ok?” He nodded putting the clothes on and going back to looking out the window. You sat down looking on your phone any answers you could find. It turns out it’s more common than you think. The man will still act cat like, go through a lot of the same motions but will stay human.

You sighed at least knowing this wasn’t just you being dumb. He turned to you “it’s dinner time!” He said walking over to you. He was right, this is the time you always feed him. “Alright but I don’t think you’ll like your dry food anymore, how about I make us some fish?” You said his eyes lighting up like little stars twinkling in the night sky. You quickly head to the kitchen you hungry yourself to start cooking. You made fish with a small bowl of rice and broccoli. The man before you sat close to you watching your every move. “By the way as much as I like the name star, my names hyunjin.”

After dinner he had curled up on the couch falling asleep. You took this opportunity to run to the store quickly. You grabbed him some clothes and a few other things he may need running back to the house. As you opened the door you were met with a tackle. Hyunjin had his arms wrapped around you tightly “you could have at least told me you were leaving, I got scared” he said softly looking up at you with those big eyes.

“I’m sorry hyune you were sleeping so peacefully so I wanted to grab you stuff.” You said putting the bags down. He released his grip on you crossing his arms “you always leave when I’m sleeping” he said in a huff which made you laugh a bit “well yeah it’s the only time you are actually peaceful and not destroying stuff.” You teased.

-🩵

A few weeks had passed since your cat had been turned human and it wasn’t too bad honestly. It was nice having someone to talk to when you were home that could actually talk back now.

You had noticed though hyunjin spending sometime in the bathroom. It made you wonder why? What exactly was he doing. He’d always come out with his cheeks all flushed. You stared at him this time as he came back to the couch “are you just like taking a massive shit or something?” You half teased half wondering if that’s what it was.

He just looked at you confusion plastered his face before he started busting out laughing “what the fuck did you just ask me” Tears pricking the corners of his eyes from laughing so hard. “Why do you keep going to the bathroom then you asshole.” You teased throwing one of the pillows at his face. “You really think I’m going to the bathroom that much? I mean your cooking is kinda bad but not that bad.” He teased tossing the pillow back at you.

“You really wanna know what I’m doing?” He said tilting his head looking at you. Not giving you a moment to second guess yourself “I’m in there fucking my hand” he said teasing as he made the hand motion. You were the one now confused but also in shock? He continued “I still have all the animal desires y/n I can’t help being around you and your smell makes me go feral. The slightest touch from you sometimes is enough to just send me into a frenzy. So I excuse myself to the bathroom. Honestly it’s probably worse right now cause heat is coming.” He rambled.

“First of hyunjin, most people don’t come right out and say they were masturbating. Second of all you went to the bathroom like 4 times yesterday.” You said still kind of confused. “Why can’t I say that? What’s it matter if people know? Us cats just take care of ourselves.” He states himself now looking confused “hyune you’re a human now though and you can’t just say that especially if others are around.”

You sat there discussing things, not realizing there were things he may not know about being human. Things you thought were just explanatory like no peeing outside or scarfing down your food so the others can’t have any. He sat there listening to you and asking questions “so what about mating?” He asked “I’ve never seen you with a mate but I’ve seen you use that little vibrator in your dresser. How come you get to touch yourself and I can’t?”

You had forgotten you’ve touched yourself while he was in the room. I mean fuck he was a cat then you didn’t know this would all happen. He stared at you for a split second before leaning into you “Since you’re teaching me about all human things, can you teach me how to properly mate with you?” He said eyes going from your lips back up to your gaze. “I uhm-“ you stutter out before he presses his body against yours. “Guide me or I’ll do things how I know to do them.”

The beautiful man inches away from your lips, his big brown eyes staring so lustfully at your hands on your hips ready to take you. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex let alone even a damn kiss. You put yourself so fully into your studies lately you hadn’t had time for dating. Here was this sexy man wanting nothing more than you, were you going to pass on the opportunity? I guess not. Because before you could question anything hyunjin was kissing you sloppily pushing you down into the couch to be over top of you.

He kisses were wet and messy, his tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth twirling your own tongue. He was definitely gonna need to be shown how to kiss better but it was hot at the moment. His hand rushed over your body feeling every inch of it as he rutting against you. His clothed cock felt so painfully hard. He positioned himself so his cock was now at your clothed cunt. He moved his hips more earning a moan from you. He kissed down your jaw to your neck sucking on it harshly. Fuck. He groaned out by your ear. “Please” he said voice raspy.

“Please what?” You asked a bit confused to what he was asking. He sighed “please actually help me, this is you know different from what I’m use to. I’m gonna need help finding uhm- where to put myself.” He said his face blushed you couldn’t tell if it was from his question or just cause he was turned on. Either way it was so cute.

You smiled at him softly “alright, take your pants off then.” You said and as soon as those words left your mouth he was stripping so fast. You were about to pull your clothes off before he grabbed your pants “let me help you with that.” He said his eye’s looking hungry. As soon as he got your pants off he dived into your soaking cunt. The contact was so fast your brain went fuzzy. He lapped up all your juices, licking you clean before looking up at you.

His eyes were hazy looking he murmured out “where’s the spot?” He asked “the uhm the thing” he said he was confused himself. “What?” You chuckled a bit “the clit?” He questioned “I saw it on one of your videos the girl said “yes suck my clit” isn’t that like your spot?” He asked. You smiled at him sweetly showing him what he was talking about “this is it it’s a very sensitive part of a female it’s like how males like you have a sensitive tip.” You said now pointing at the tip of his cock. He nodded understanding completely what you meant.

He quickly went back to licking small licks up your folds now stopping at your clit to suck on it. As you showed him that you also showed him where to in his words “stick it.” You could feel him bring his fingers up slowly playing with your entrance as he ravished the cunt. God for it being his first time he was way too good at it. “I’ve never tasted anything better not even the salmon could compare.” He said almost looking drunk off of your cunt. “And those sounds you were making fuck, I could cum just off that.” He said his free hand now stroking himself.

He continued eating you out like a hungry animal he was bringing you close to your release his hands steadily fucking you he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. “Fuck y/n you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” He breathed out looking up at you “your eyes look the same way they did when you came on the vibrator.” All you could do was nod yes at him, his pace picking up as he let go of his cock to move his hand to your clit.

Everything together brought you to your high fast your legs shaking, walls fighting around him you were moaning his name loudly. Your hand grabbing ahold of his head pulling you as your high washed over you. Cuming on his tongue he let out a moan feeling warmth on your leg. His body jolted a bit as you noticed he had also came. He had came hearing you say his name so sinfully, the taste of you brought him over the edge.

Your body felt like jello, legs shaky as he lapped up every little drop of you before coming up. His hair slicked back stuck to his forehead, those beautiful pillowy lips red from all the movement. You both looked so fucked out of your minds.

He got his second wind pretty fast, he wrapped his arms around you brining your body to his before flipping you over to your stomach. Your body was still to tired so he quickly placed a pillow under you making sure that nice ass of yours was displayed so nicely for him. He stroked himself a few times already hard again after cuming. God how was he so hard again. He quickly found your entrance pushing himself into you. You both let out the most lustful sinful moans the feeling of your walls around him had him trying not to cum already. The size of him filled you up so nicely could almost feel him on your stomach. If he fucked you like this there was no way you wouldn’t get pregnant.

He stayed still for a second just taking in how good you felt before moving a bit. Just the feeling alone of you he couldn’t help himself he pushed into you a couple times before his body shook. He was already cuming again. The sensation of his hot liquid filling your walls already had you moaning loudly. You didn’t want it to end yet but how could he go again after cuming twice in the span of a few minutes? Well don’t underestimate the power of a horny cat man.

He gave himself a few seconds his cock still hard inside you before moving. He was such a mess on top of you, both of you sweaty and sensitive. He fucked into you so sloppily the cum acting as lube letting him glide in and out. The noises of skin slapping filled the room. His hands digging into your hips pulling him as far into you as he possible could. He moved down his body against you back leaving small kisses as his hand found its way back to your clit.

He rubbed your clit as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder. He fucked into you so deep you could feel his tip hitting your cervix. His hand that was on your him now wrapped around your body. His movements became fast feeling your walls tighten around him “Hyune I’m- fuck I’m cumming” you almost scream out his hand moving fast against your clit, his hips sloppily moving before he came deep inside your walls. He sucked small purple marks on your neck, bitting softly from time to time.

“I don’t wanna move” he said arms gripped around you tightly “feels to good, wanna stay buried inside you forever” he said voice low. You hum at the thought still feeling him twitching inside of you. “Damnit” he said softly pulling himself up “I gotta fucking pee” he said whining as he pulled himself out of you. The cum dripping out as he whined even more at the sight. He quickly ran to the bathroom you sat up rubbing your head, body still feeling weak.

“Alright I’m back, what are you doing?” He asked as you were cleaning yourself up. “Cleaning up” you said in a questioning tone. He whined a bit before sitting down on the couch “why you doing that for when we are just gonna get messy again?” He asks pulling you backwards making you sit down on his lap. You could feel his cock pressed against your folds “how the fuck are you hard again?” He blurted out. “Can’t help it you’re to hot.” He shrugged moving you as he pushed himself back into you. “We don’t even have to do anything I just wanna stay like this” he said wrapping his arms around you to pull you fully down around his cock.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to sit here and not try anything” you teased. He laughed a bit “probably not but hey I don’t think you’re complaining.” He teased back kissing your cheek. And he knew he was right you both did but you weren’t gonna admit to it.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[sagelasters]

scientific study on the void state

For decades, people have thought sleeping is a momental period or pause where both the body and mind is asleep. When I stopped remembering my dreams, I recalled seeing just pitch black in my sleep, and I never thought much about it until I started getting into the void and loa in general. It’s strange how my mind remembered those moments of nothingness and pure darkness, they were briefly short but I came to the conclusion that every single one of us has been in a void state. Whether or not you remembered it, maybe you do, maybe for a split second you were enveloped in pitch blackness till you woke up. Most of us brush off these strange phenomenals, but here’s the real question: Is it possible to be aware in your sleep? The answer is yes, our subconscious mind is fully awake even in your sleep. I think one of the most interesting scientific experiments I’ve read was an interview in 2022, it explores the ‘objectless awareness’ in our sleep. 

There were about 38 participants in the experiment, in which they were given a word to mentally spell and then they were interviewed based on that specific spelling. This is to measure participant’s memory accuracy, just to make sure they didn’t fabricate or make up any descriptions in the experiment. When participants pass the first round, they are given a survey if they have experiences of being conscious in their sleep. The result is that some participants recalled to lack any bodily sensations or imagery, one person reported that they lost the sense of being ‘themself’ but they identified as a ‘light’ or ‘orb’. Another person reported that after being in the state of nothingness, they were shaken up and brought to another ‘dream scenery’. Others recalled that their thoughts were completely non-existent in this state and they are aware of being ‘transitioned’ to what they called the ‘black spot’ and ‘nothingness state’. 

The chart summarizes what the participants experience in their sleep, the ‘nothingness phase’ seems to be the middle ground between regular sleeping state, to hypnagogia (transition between being awake and sleep, you experience sleep paralysis and muscle jerks in this stage). Most participants were unable to recall what happened after they transitioned out of the ‘nothingness phase’. The following is what they said:

Participant 1

"So, this sensation of nothing was letting me know that I was still in a dream, because I made the comparison to, I cannot feel any of my limbs. So, I know that I’m not just in bed right now with my eyes closed. Because none of my body’s there."

Participant 2

"I no longer have an idea of a body.. a dream body at that point. And then I [emphasis] became or was this just like this little ball of light, […]. So like I knew that the sphere of light was ME, but also like the light that was around the sphere was me, […] Once I become the sphere, you are asking if I have any body perception? I do not have any at that point […] having a dream body is just completely gone."

Participant 9

“And then, and then all of a sudden, there was just nothing I could not, I’ve gone from, from my body, I guess. And I’ve had other bodies before and this felt very, very, very different where I did not like there was no dream body, no dream scene. No, no ANYTHING. It almost seems like a form about a body. But it almost seems like you are, you are caught between, caught between somewhere where you are trying to get in and the physical, you are, you are somewhere else. […] And so, so I was able to feel that I guess.” 

Participant 8

“It’s more like I was the void. ”

Participant 12

" It’s just total darkness. And you…, there’s very little difference between you and what’s around you. ”

Well didn’t that blow your mind away? This probably raises more questions on more phenomenal that modern science has no idea about, considering the fact that we just discovered our sense of awareness is still on even in our sleep. 

Citation

Alcaraz-Sánchez A, Demšar E, Campillo-Ferrer T, Torres-Platas SG. Nothingness Is All There Is: An Exploration of Objectless Awareness During Sleep. Front Psychol. 2022 Jun 10;13:901031. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2022.901031. PMID: 35756253; PMCID: PMC9226678.

[dreamingonfilm]

✧˖*°࿐ Love Letters | d.m

Draco Malfoy x f!reader, fluff

Summary: In which Draco tries to find the girl who sends him love letters, unaware to the fact that it’s you.

W/C: 1.5k

Draco’s fingers traced over the writing on the pink envelope once again. His mind was not able to rest as he tried to piece together who left the note on his bedside in the middle of the night. Delicately opening it once more, he reread the words inside;

Draco, 

I hope you can learn to see yourself the way that I see you, with love and acceptance. You are what makes everyday worth it. Constellations are named after you, and each day I can’t help but to be thankful for the sun breathing on you once more. You are my light.

He carefully closed the envelope and placed it inside his bag. ‘They like me.’ the boy thought to himself, ‘someone actually likes me.’ 

It’s not that the boy was a stranger when it comes to love, but never once has he been perceived as something more than what he truly is. He’s always been Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy throne, son of Lucius, and most importantly a Slytherin. For this reason, he constantly rejected any advances that came from the female students around him. While his rejections came off as rude and cold-hearted, the other students failed to see that Draco, just like everyone else around him, was human too. He was scared of being hurt by the one feeling that he craved the most. 

The walk to class was almost unbearable, he couldn’t stop thinking about the letter. He wanted to know the poet behind those beautiful words, the ones that kept repeating over and over in his head as he tried stirring potions or taking notes. You are what makes everyday worth it. He became hyper aware of his surroundings, assuming that he would know when he sees her, but he failed to realize that she was not someone that could be so easily spotted. She came exactly when you needed her to, not by desire alone.

—-

“Draco,” his friend Blaise called to him, “focus.”

“Oh, right.” Draco replied, trying to get his thoughts together as he walked back to his seat. It was the middle of the school week and his mind was only getting more crowded with the thoughts of her. As he sat back down, his friends swarmed him with questions as to what it was that he smelled in his amortentia, assuming that this would be the first step to finding her.

“I can’t describe it.” He sighed, running a hand through his platinum hair in defeat. “She has me going crazy and I don’t even know her.” 

“Well,” Pansy spoke up, “I suggest maybe moving on? I mean, if she wants to be anonymous it may be for a reason. Plus, you have hundreds of other girls that would kill to be with you, Draco. Maybe try your luck somewhere else.” She flashed him a sincere smile before going in to hold his hand, but her efforts were cut short as the boy suddenly stood up. 

“I don’t want to be with anyone unless it’s her.” He sneered, shaking his head as he turned around and started heading straight to the door. He said a hushed goodbye to his friends before exiting into the crowded hall.

Why couldn’t his friends see that he didn’t want anyone else? He didn’t care about her wealth, status, or looks, all that he wanted was someone that could love him in full. Love him in a way that can’t be tamed, a love that lives long after they do. This was something that he knew he wasn’t going to find any time soon, for as long as he was at Hogwarts he could only be Draco Malfoy.

His hopes were on her.

He walked through the hall, pushing through students that stood in his way as he asserted dominance with a ray of confidence and high ego. Students glared at him but none had the guts to say anything, this fear that Draco instilled was not one that was going to go away any time soon. It was one that he brought upon himself and now had to live with. Somewhere in between his daydreams and the crowded corridor, he felt someone bump into him. Their shoulders collided as his books fell to the floor. The stranger mumbled a quick apology before running off.

In the midst of his anger, he froze. He smelt it. That same scent that clouded him only a few minutes before. There it was, it was her, but just as quickly as he smelled it, she was gone. Only seeing her hair as she turned at the corner of the hallway. 

He quickly got up and chased after her, pushing and shoving anyone that got in his way. This was his chance, he was finally going to meet the girl that’s been making him mad, the one that he’s been dreaming of. His heart was pounding as he ran faster and faster down the hall, students staring at him in confusion as he was passing them by, quills and journals flying out of his bag –  but he didn't care, he couldn’t let her get away.

Once he turned the corner, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sensation of defeat. His heart crushed as he stared into the empty hallway.

—- 

Two weeks have passed since the day that Draco and her collided. He sat in his bed, holding a brand new letter. The same shade of pink as the one before, with the handwriting that he’s fallen in love with. 

“Draco, 

I’m sorry for not writing to you. I’ve been thinking of you every day, and I just can’t bear to keep dreaming of you without letting you know that I’m sorry for bumping into you in the hallway. The truth is, I’m scared, Draco.

I’m scared you aren’t going to like me for who I am. I’m scared that writing to you was a mistake. I’m scared that the only way you will ever see me is through these letters. I see you every day, why can’t you see me? 

You’re always in my heart, shining above me every night, my constellation. If we remain strangers forever, just know that I’ve never come to love someone like how I love you.”

He was getting restless. Constant possibilities of who it could be running through him, he even considered the possibility that this could be a prank, but no amount of doubt could prevent him from finding her, his hope overpowered all the fear that he had.

Draco sat up once more and started getting ready for dinner. Brushing his hair and straightening out his tie, he needed to look presentable for the off chance that he could be meeting her today. 

He headed down into the Great Hall and that’s when he saw it. A pink envelope in the hands of a girl he’s never talked to, but not just any girl, it was you.

He shouted out into the void, but he wasn’t quick enough. “Hey wait!” he called out, as you quickly grabbed your things and ran off once more. He couldn’t see you like this, it wasn’t the right time. Your face flushed red as you ran, your breathing quickening as your legs started to grow tired, but you could not let him find you. 

Draco chased after you, he was only a few feet behind but with enough determination you knew you could lose him. As you sprinted through the maze of halls, you started to grow light headed, you knew that if you didn’t stop soon you would faint. 

But it’s not the right time 

You stopped in front of a random classroom, rushing to open the door before he could catch up to you, but it was too late. He crashed into you, both of you falling to the ground with a loud thump, his hands landing on either sides of you as you laid in between him.

He finally found you. 

“Who are you?” He asked, not wasting any more time to get to know the girl who stole his heart. You stared into his eyes, feeling a frog in your throat as you mustered up the courage to finally talk to him.

“M-my name is (Y/N).” You whispered, neither of you breaking eye contact. He smiled, grabbing hold of your hands as he went to pick you both up. You were both nervous, too scared of saying the wrong things, but wanting to say them all regardless.

“(Y/N),” he repeated, looking at you with a face full of love and adoration, “I’m Draco.” 

He brushed your hair with his fingers and went to pat the dust off your shoulders. You didn’t know what to say or do, but you didn’t have to.

This was the right time.

 “Come along then (Y/N),” Draco smiled, interlocking his hand in yours before leading you back down to the Great Hall, “we have a lot of catching up to do.”

[imauthicktic]

I beg you, transformers x fem reader

I don’t care what you write or anything, i’m on my optimus and bumblebee obsession phase pookie please

For you pookie bear 😘💖💞

Bayverse!Optimus and Bayverse!Bumblebee x fem!reader

Description: How they react to your random silent treatment

A/N: Optimus' part is so freaking soft and sweet 🥺 and then Bee's is corny and cheesy fluff and this is just a short reaction to get back into the groove of writing again!!

Silence. The silence was killing them- they didn’t even know what they did wrong as they saw their precious human woman talking to Cade like it was no big deal that they hadn’t spoken to their lover in hours. They had thought maybe she just didn’t hear me or was too busy to notice. But that thought was quickly replaced when they noticed she was able to talk to everyone else just fine.

What they didn’t know was that (Y/N) was just testing their patience to see how long they could go before they got mad at her for playing such games.

Enough was enough.

Optimus:

Optimus POV

Optimus watched and waited until (Y/N) was alone to approach her so that she would be forced to talk to him. Optimus walked up to her before kneeling before her. He gently put his hand down for her to climb onto hoping that she would accept his silent invitation. When she climbed onto his hand he thanked the stars that she didn’t seem to be as mad as he thought she originally was. He then stood and walked away from the group enough to have some privacy as he spoke to her. 

Once at the spot that was hidden and far away enough, he sat down on the ground and held her up so he could look at her but her head was stubbornly turned away from him. Optimus sighed softly as he gently placed his finger under her chin and carefully turned her head to look at him. Longing shined in his optics. “Sweetspark… have I done something so wrong that you no longer wish to speak to me?” Optimus asked (Y/N) with his deep voice as his head gently moved to look her in the eyes.

(Y/N)’s POV:

Your heart ached as you looked at him and heard the genuine worry in his tone. The silent treatment was over for you the moment you saw and heard the hurt he tried so hard to hide. “No no no, Optimus- I-... I was just being childish- you did nothing wrong. Believe me, you did nothing-,” you rambled before he cut you off.

“But you have stopped speaking to me. You are not one to do such things without reason,” Optimus interrupted.

You tried to think of a reason that wouldn’t make him angry at you, “Bee told me to do it.” Really? Well, at least it’s believable. You think in your head as you give a sheepish smile and gently reach forward to cup his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Optimus. I didn’t realize how upset you would get,” you say softly as you place gentle kisses on his face making him close his eyes softly in relief. 

“Please don’t play such games again. My spark burns for you and you alone. It can’t accept you being so upset with me,” he says softly in an almost uncharacteristically soft way.

“I promise. Do you forgive me?” you ask.

“Of course.” He says as he gently touches his forehead to yours.

Bumblebee:

(Y/N)’s POV

You were just saying goodbye to Cade as you walked away and towards the rest of the group. Unbeknownst to you, Bee was watching with desperate eyes as he waited for you to come to him, but when he saw you walk the opposite way he became frustrated.

You were walking while looking at your phone when you heard a quiet whine and then loud footsteps that came rushing up behind you before you could even react, you were lifted up by Bee before he quickly transformed into the Camaro where you’re in the driver’s seat and buckled in before he speeds off at high speeds into the desert. You let out a yelp at the sudden and quick change as you watch the speedometer climb. 

“Bee! What are you doing?! You’re going too fast!” You say slightly panicked as you hold onto the door handle and the armrest desperately. 

“Shouldn’t have ignored me, babygirl,” Bee’s radio said as he changed through the stations to communicate his frustration, “now we ride!” he finished before purposefully swerving and doing donuts in the empty desert making you let out a shriek and a loud nervous laugh realizing how annoyed he was by your silent treatment.

“Ok! Ok! I’m sorry, Bee! I- I’m going to be sick!” you say between giggles as he finally stops and transforms into his humanoid form with you cupped in both of his hands as he rubs his mouthpiece against your face affectionately in a playful manner. 

“My honeypie, my sugarpie, my princess, my babygirl, my hot mama!” his radio blasted as he switched through channels making you laugh out loud as you grabbed his head and kissed his mouth piece over and over in loving affection. 

“You’re so annoying- you know that? You’re lucky you’re cute and I love you so much,” you say to him as you look into his eyes with a softened, fond smile.

“I’m lucky I have ya darlin’,” his radio switched to a cowboy accent that spoke so softly making the moment more loving and intimate.

Lmk what y'all think!!

[haetrack]

here bc of ur recent post to request soft dom mark smut!!! maybe like morning sex idk i’m not good at requesting and being super specific😭

req 4: mark lee x f!reader

wc: 2.5k

warnings: reader gets off in front of mark, fingering, morning sex, missionary, light overstimulation, pretty tame actually, softdom!mark, sub!reader

a/n: i am crazy but free. u gave me too much freedom to write what i wanted and now i realize just how much i want mark. mark please answer my calls

- ☁︎

when you wake up, you can feel the heat between your legs as you squeeze them together.

mark came home late last night, practice keeping him longer than he was expecting. you know it’s not easy for him, shaking your head when he tries to apologize to you. it didn’t matter how needy you felt, your boyfriend’s health mattered more to you than anything. he says he’ll make it up to you soon, but you hush him as you both lay down.

his arms wrap around your waist, his head nuzzling against your shoulder as he falls asleep. it’s easy for him, but his warm breath on your skin causes you to squirm around. you tell yourself to calm down, you’ll live if you don’t get fucked now, and try hard to go to sleep.

and you do, except that your dream involves mark fucking you into the sheets, whispering praises in your ear as he does so. when you wake up, it’s almost too much for you to handle. you can feel how drenched your panties are, how your cheeks are warm from how real the dream felt.

you’re not sure what you should do. you know mark is still sleeping, and you know you don’t really want to wake him up this early. he deserves his rest, but you can’t help the need building inside of you. you can only squeeze your thighs together, trying to fight off how badly you need him.

would it be so bad if you got off in front of him? you could sneak off to the restroom, but it’s warm under the blanket, mark’s scent surrounding you. your hand slips under your sleeping shorts and panties, fingers slowly circling around your clit. your hand slaps over your mouth, stopping a moan from coming out.

you know mark’s fingers would feel better than yours, but you have to make do with what you have. your fingers dip down to your entrance, two fingers sliding in easily with how wet you are. your mind drifts to mark catching you like this, wondering how he’d react to the sight of you like this.

you have to bite down on your tongue when your fingers move in and out of you, your palm digging into your clit. it’s too much and not enough, and if you could just wake up mark, you’d have everything you want. you fight against it, your hazy mind falling into how good you’re feeling.

when your fingers manage to hit the spot inside of you, you moan out louder than you mean to. even with your hand over your mouth, you know it might’ve been a little too loud. your ministrations still, your fingers inside you as you hear mark inhale deeply behind you. he groans a bit before he stretches a bit, his arm moving back across your waist. 

his morning voice makes you clench around your fingers, “morning, baby. slept so good knowing you were at my side.”

you don’t know if he knows that you were getting yourself off, quietly clearing your throat before you speak, “good morning, mark. i’m glad you slept good.”

he pulls you close to him, head falling to the junction of your neck, inhaling your scent. you can feel him smile against your skin, touchy from the comfort of the morning. you’d call him cute, but your fingers are still inside you, walls clenching tightly just from mark being so close.

it’s quiet for a few moments, subtly shifting your hips to try to get your fingers in a little deeper. it’s not ideal, not when your boyfriend is right there, but what can you do.

“hey…” he starts, murmuring against you, “you feel a little hot, you okay?”

your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. do you tell him that you were just getting yourself off to the thought of him. is it too early to really do anything about this? he calls you again, this time his morning voice calling you baby.

you can’t help the whine that comes out of your mouth, slipping your fingers out of you as you turn to face him. he looks so good, and it’s still morning. his eyes look a little concerned, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. he realizes when you grab his hand to put it over your heat.

his fingers twitch, feeling how wet your panties are, mouth opening in shock. his eyes meet yours, and although they look tired, you can see desperation shine in them. he licks his lips, pupils dilating as he presses his palm against your clothed clit. “baby… do you- do you want me that badly?”

you quickly nod, grinding down onto his palm, trying to get any type of friction from him. he chuckles at the sight, “i kept you waiting too long, hmm? you needed me so much, and i kept you waiting, baby.”

he lays you onto your back as moves to sit in front of you. he slowly peels off your shorts and panties, not wanting to rush despite your hushed pleas. he shushes you softly, his thumb meeting your clit as his fingers prod at your entrance, “what’s gotten you so worked up?”

you answer quickly, “you. i dreamt about you, you fucked me so good, couldn’t help it.”

you can hear him suck in a breath at your words, his fingers sliding into you, satisfied with your answer. he doesn’t try teasing you, realizing just how badly you need him. you watch how his cock twitches in the confines of his shorts, feeling your walls clench around his fingers. “do you want my cock, baby? want me to fuck you?”

“please, mark. need you so bad, been needing you since last night.”

he watches as your hips chase his touch, trying to get his fingers deep inside. his hooded eyes meet yours again, “i’ll give you anything you want, want you to feel so good.”

a whimper escapes you as his fingers scissor inside you, opening you up for his cock. you can hear the lewd squelch of his fingers inside of you, your slick spilling out of you. his thumb circles around your clit, quickly trying to get you off. you can feel tightening in your stomach, your hands gripping onto the sheets.

before you can cum, you call out to him, “w-wait, mark. don’t wanna cum just yet, wanna cum on your cock, please.”

he shudders at your words, feels how his cock presses against the front of his shorts. “i k-know baby, i just… i might cum too fast, want you to cum now.”

at his words, his fingers press into your sweet spots, triggering your orgasm. his cock throbs when he feels your walls tighten around his digits, watching you moan out, curling into the sheets under you. he finds you so pretty like this, prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

he helps you ride out your orgasm, moving his fingers inside of you. he slowly pulls them out, watching them slowly as they slip out. his fingers are covered in your arousal, slowly bringing them up to his mouth to lick it all up. he moans around them, “tastes so sweet, my girl tastes so fuckin’ sweet.”

“please hurry, mark. wanna feel you in me already, wanna make you feel good now.”

he quickly slips off his shorts, not bothering to take them off all the way. his cock slaps against his stomach, precum at tip, begging for your touch. he watches you try to reach for his cock, but quickly swats your hands away. you pout at him, and he just sends you an embarrassed smile, “wanna make this about my girl, i know how much you need me.”

you nod at him, not trusting your voice with him so close to you. he pushes his hips against yours, pressing his length against your cunt. he rubs it against your slit, feeling how your slick wets his cock. his tip presses against your clit, causing you both to moan at the same time. you can tell mark is getting lost in the feeling, leaning towards you as he glides against your pussy.

he doesn’t realize how much he’s teasing you. you clench around nothing, wanting nothing more than his cock to fill you up. you try calling out to him, failing when all that comes out is a moan of his name when his tip presses against your entrance. you look at him expectantly, hoping he’ll slide in.

he doesn’t, his mouth falling open as he continues grinding against you. you can feel frustration build up in you, your boyfriend unintentionally keeping your orgasm from you. you stop him once you hear a deep groan fall from his lips, you whisper-shouting his name, breaking him away from the feeling of your warmth.

his eyes shoot towards yours, a light blush painting his cheeks as he lets out a shy laugh. “sorry, baby. just felt so good, didn’t mean to keep you waiting again.”

you reach for his hand, intertwining yours with his. he smiles at the action, lining up his tip at your entrance. he slowly slides in, biting down on his bottom lip to try to conceal any noise, but fails. a deep groan falls from him, “fuck, baby,” his hips slightly stutter against yours, “feel so good in the morning, sucking me in.”

small whimpers fall from your lips, moaning his name once he bottoms out. you can feel him twitch inside you, getting used to the feeling of your warm walls around him. he reaches out to your swollen clit, “been so long, forgot how tight my girl is.”

you nod, your eyes closed shut as you adjust to his cock. he calls out your name, your bleary eyes looking at him. “want you to look at me, baby. want you to see how good i make you feel.”

your hands make it to his shoulders, nails digging into your skin as he starts moving. his thrusts are slow but sharp, wanting to take his time with you so early in the morning. his eyes watch how his cock disappears inside you, watching how his hips press against yours. he can’t get enough of your pussy, can’t ever get enough of you. he’s missed this.

you pull him down to kiss you, lips pressing against each other as he thrusts into you. it’s slow, but it helps with your aching cunt, feeling so full with his cock inside you. between kisses, you speak out a confession, “mark, making me feel so good,” a moan cuts you off, “i was- i was touching myself before you woke up.”

his eyes shoot straight to yours, waiting for you to continue. “just need you so bad, didn’t wanna wake you up.”

“t-that’s so hot. fuck, you’re so hot.”

he pulls you into a kiss, slowing down his movements. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting yourself feel his cock against your walls. you moan into his mouth, his hand reaching under your shirt to grope at your chest. he tweaks a nipple between his fingers, a satisfied groan leaving his lips as you arch up to his touch.

he can feel your walls begin clenching around him, watches how you throw your head back against the pillows as you moan at his name. even through the haze in his mind, he thinks you’re the prettiest like this. he leans down to your ear, “are you gonna cum for me? is my needy baby gonna cum all over my cock?”

you let out a small yes, stray tears falling from your eyes as he wipes them away with his thumb. at the sweet action of your boyfriend, still caring for you so early in the morning, you cum. his thumb quickly rubs circles against your clit when he feels your walls clench around him.

he has to physically stop himself from cumming too fast, his hips stilling as your walls suck him in deeper, trying to milk his cock of all his cum. he’s not sure how he can hold back when you feel so good, when you call his name so sweetly, or how pretty you look cumming under him. 

he calls out to you with a shaky voice, his head falling to your shoulder with a groan of your name. with a few quick thrusts, he cums inside of you, filling you up with his cum. you pull him close to you, and he can feel your hard nipples press against his chest. he’s letting out moans, pressing kisses against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

“you’re so fucking tight, missed your pussy- missed you so much.” he grinds into you, feeling how your walls clench from overstimulation, “you were made for my cock, we were made for each other.”

he can’t help the sounds coming out of him, not when you clench around him so nicely. he moans in your ear, babbles of how good you feel and how much he’s misses this can only be heard. you can feel his thighs shake against you as it gets too much for him, causing him to still as his cock begs for him to slow down.

he takes a few breaths before he pulls out. he lazily sits back, watching your twitching cunt drip with his cum. he has to stop himself from pushing his cum back into you, fingers twitching at his side as he watches your cum slip down to your sheets. you kick him a little, a shy whine coming from you, embarrassed from how hard he was staring.

he laughs at you, joining you at your side. the sun fills the room, the warmth of your bodies together. he cuddles into your side, taking a deep breath, inhaling your scent. he takes a quick look at your face, thinks you look even prettier after you’ve cum in the morning. he smiles to himself, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“think i might have to make you cum every morning if it means i get to see you like this.”

you shove lightly at his shoulder, “you’re so weird-” he laughs hard at your whining, “can’t you just say i look nice and go?”

“can’t be normal around my girl, you make me go crazy.”

his head falls to your shoulder, fingers dancing across your skin, goosebumps raising at the feeling. your hand makes it to his hair, pushing it back as you press a kiss to his forehead. it’s quiet for a few moments more, your heartbeats syncing up from how close you are to each other. you could fall asleep like this.

mark realizes how heavy your breaths get, watching your covered chest rise and fall. he looks at you, so close he can count all the eyelashes on your face. he presses a kiss to your cheek before cuddling up next to you. he follows you back to sleep, a dream of you next to him playing in his mind.

[rebelfell]

A li’l self-indulgent bestfriend!eddie fluff. Reader w/ boobies.

Eddie’s not a total pig, okay?

He can control himself just fine when necessary. He’s fully capable of maintaining a conversation without his brain short circuiting at the sight of something that makes all the tiny Eddie’s in his head run around like chickens with their heads cut off. That is…except for right now.

Because right now there are boobs in front of his face. And not just any boobs. Your boobs.

“Eddie!” You huff loudly and drop your shirt. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

He blinks a few times, reluctantly coming out of his daze to look up at you and the appalled frown on your face. His cheeks burn with his humiliation and his mouth falls open as he stammers through his attempt to recall what you just said.

You roll your eyes, sighing all heavy and petulant as you climb off his bed.

“Hey!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up to really sell the ruse of being offended. “You’re the one whipping out your bits all willy nilly. Can’t exactly expect me to concentrate.”

Over your shoulder you fix him with a glare and snatched up one of his Hellfire figurines to chuck it at him. The freshly painted figure ricocheted off his elbow as he threw his arms up in front of him, fighting back giggles as you scolded him.

“I came to you for advice, not to be ogled!”

Well, that was your first mistake, Eddie thought to himself. Because when it came to you there was no scenario that didn’t involve ogling.

“I’m sorry. Okay? I…I got distracted. But that’s what you’re going for, right? Weren’t you asking if they look good?”

“It’s not about whether they look good, I just…I need to know if they look even.”

Even? Even, how? Even more fucking incredible than normal? Even more mouth-watering? Even better than what Eddie’s been imagining more and more over the last few years.

“Even, how?” he asks.

“Like…normal.” You groan. “He says one of them is way bigger and I thought maybe this bra would minimize the problem.”

“Problem?” Eddie snorted. “There’s not a single fucking problem with them.”

You roll your eyes at him again, but it’s not quick enough to hide the smile that started to blossom on your lips when he says that. Eddie’s bed frame squeaks in protest as he hops off the bed and comes to stand in front of you, solemn and serious in a way he almost never is.

“Sweetheart…they’re perfect.”

You’re perfect, he wants to say.

A little pride creeps into your voice as you tilt your head gently and glance briefly down at your own chest before looking back at him.

“Really?”

“Really, really. Literally, maybe, definitely, the greatest ones I’ll ever see in my life.”

A laugh bubbles out of his chest and you honestly feel like you’re going to melt into the carpet under your feet. And suddenly you can’t remember for the life of you why you even bothered with this other guy in the first place.

Because the guy you bought this stupid fancy bra for has never called them, or anything on you for that matter, perfect. And he’s never looked at you the way Eddie is looking at you.

You bit down gently on your bottom lip, absently walking your fingers along the edge of Eddie’s dresser, scratching at the chipped paint.

“Do you, um…do you think you got a good enough look?”

cont’d here

[skeltnwrites]

The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉

As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most. / part one masterlist

part two - at the rec center's fall festival, you and steve finally make plans to hang out 11k

a/n - how did this end up twice as long as the first chapter this was supposed to be a short one!! general warnings/tags here

── .✦

Utah’s pretty this time of year. Fall is in full swing. The maple and cottonwood mellow into rich shades of orange, there is a constant crush of leaves underfoot, and the crisp scent of pine needles mingle with the breeze. Your neighbors go all out to decorate. Pumpkins are for sale on every corner and the apple orchards buzz with families for the harvest. This kind of weather has every brush of sunlight feeling like a hug you didn’t know you needed. 

The rec center hosts an annual fall festival, bringing hayrides, corn mazes, and costume contests. And though you wouldn’t normally volunteer on a Sunday, Steve’s hard to say no to. It’s not like he begged you or anything, a half-shrug and simple “If you want to” was enough convincing. 

You’d volunteer with or without Steve. You have the time and the goodwill and thus it’s a cork on the end of your monotonous work-week. But there’s no denying that Steve makes it a hell of a lot more enjoyable. He’s the sunrise after a long night, guiding you into the days ahead. And yeah, maybe you’re romanticizing too much. Too caught up in the way his tongue sticks out when he’s concentrating or how he mumbles to himself when he forgets you’re near. But working with him is delightful, nonetheless. 

You and Steve are friends now. Well, work friends. You’ve never actually hung out outside of the rec center but there isn’t a Friday that one of you doesn’t mention it while you eat lunch in his office. You’ve learned trivial little things about him, like his favorite brand of pen, the store he buys his groceries from, and how he likes his coffee– hot enough to burn, with as much sugar as he can get away with without attracting strange looks. You ask about Penelope often and he’s very open; eager to rant and rave about the latest details of their lives. She visits every now and then, usually too sick or naughty to be at school. So you’ve come to know her just as much. That she loves Barbies and Salt-N-Pepa and insects but not the furry ones. 

Being in each other’s lives is routine at this point– parking beside his car, leaving sticky notes on his desk, setting your bag in his office. It would be crazy to say you love him, you don’t, obviously, but you feel like you could. And you know you’d be devastated if he left the center. Your shift assignments are arranged so they almost always thread with his.

He’s always hated asking for help, but then you came, puttering into his office with a lovely smile and open arms and suddenly it’s not so bad. He’ll ask for your assistance on more projects than not: your advice, your creative eye, your hands to hang something that he most certainly could do alone. 

Like now, you trail only a few paces behind Steve, cradling a wicker basket full of decorations. He billows a tablecloth over the nearest picnic table, considering your dispute over the best holiday. 

“I dunno, I’m more of a Christmas guy,” Steve shrugs, smoothing out a ripple in the fabric. “The music is just inarguably better. You get to open presents and eat delicious food. Not really a contest in my book.” 

You hum, centering a plastic pumpkin. 

“Penelope is like the queen of Halloween, though.” The corners of his eyes crinkle with mirth. “This morning, she told me she wished she was born on Halloween so she could go trick-or-treating on her birthday.” 

You wear a similar expression, gaze flicking over to Penelope. She’s not far, crouched in a strip of dirt, parting a pile of leaves to search for ladybugs and other creatures. “I bet she’s excited for all that candy.” 

“That’s all she’d eat if I let her. I’ve already scheduled a dentist appointment for her in November– But, I’m just as bad, she gets her sweet tooth from me,” he admits. 

“Figured. The amount of Reese's wrappers I find in your trash.” 

He squeezes your shoulder playfully, not hard enough that you should need to squirm away but you do. “Whatever. Why are you going through my trash anyway, weirdo.” 

You click your tongue, “I wasn’t going through your trash! They are on the top where anyone could see.” 

“Mhmm, whatever you say… dumpster diver.” 

Joan, the youth counselor, whisks over to interrupt with arms full of mason jars before you can retort. Steve smothers his smirk with an answer to her question. Your tongue prods the inside of your cheek to prevent your own. 

It’s like this with Steve, now. Teasing and taunting each other like schoolchildren. A game of tug-of-war, where every knowing glance and light-hearted jab pulls the rope just a little tighter between you. It’s as thrilling as it is nerve-wracking. 

It’s not much later when guests filter into the festival. The earliest glow of sunset mists the courtyard in gold. There’s cider stations and pumpkin carving and a whole bunch of apple bobbers fighting to win a pumpkin pie. Monster Mash bleeds from several speakers lining the trail to the tented area you find yourself in. People dance and laugh and drink. It’s a very successful event for the rec center. 

Steve plops down on the bench across from you, Penelope at his hip. A silent, self-invitation he knows you won’t decline— you enjoy their company more than people-watching. He seems to find you no matter which way you drift, even through a sea of townsfolk. 

A big scoop of chili is spooned from his paper bowl into a second. “Blow on it,” Steve reminds, planting it in front of Penelope. 

She does blow on it, a spray of more spit than air that merits her a shoulder nudge to knock it off. 

Penelope simpers over her steaming food as Steve offers you an apologetic look. Last you saw her, she was waving her way up the stairs to the costume contest. She’s since been bundled up– a tiara traded for a knit beanie and the gown from her dress-up bin crammed underneath a thick sweater and spilling out the hem. 

The string lights bathe their faces in a white glow. It highlights the beauty mark on the slope of Penelope’s cheek, like a half of Steve’s pair in the same spot. It’s not often you get to just enjoy their company. No scrambling about deadlines or standards. It’s a calm you could get used to. But Steve’s always ten steps ahead, already plotting which crew needs the most tending to when he’s finished eating. He’s selfless like that. Your feet ache from running around, but Steve’s probably worse. 

“Penelope, is that what you’re wearing on Halloween?” You ask.

Her chin presses into the neckline of her sweater. “No,” she recalls, mouth full of sauce. “I’m being Dorothy.” 

Steve swipes a napkin across her lips before anything drips. 

“From The Wizard of Oz?” 

“Mhmm,” she grins, popping the spoon out of her mouth. 

“Very cool. Did you get your costume yet?” 

She nods, glancing at Steve, “Daddy made it.” 

Steve’s in his own little world, slurping his belly full of warm food and basking in the second of peace he‘s been given. But he blinks back into reality at your questioning stare, leaning in to hear you over the boisterous laughs of nearby people. 

You try to reel in your surprise, soften your features. “You made her costume?”

“Oh,” he waves a dismissive hand, “I just sewed a shirt to a dress. Nothing fancy.” 

“Still– that’s really cool, Steve.” 

He stirs his food, voice torn with guilt. “I dunno. It’s cheap.” 

“Costumes are better homemade. The ones in the stores are tacky. I bet it looks amazing.” 

Fragments of a smile find his lips, more a peace offering than a true one. 

“I painted my shoes red and I put so much glitter on them so they sparkle,” Penelope adds cheerfully.  

“You did?” 

She nods, shining with pride. 

“It’s been two weeks and I’m still finding glitter everywhere,” Steve comments, more amused than he lets on. He can’t be that mad when they’re little reminders of his favorite person in the world. 

“Are you dressing up?” You ask him. 

He huffs, side-eyeing Penelope. “Yes.” 

A glint forms in her eyes, a sly little smirk beneath. “Daddy is going to be the lion because he’s hairy.”

You laugh and Penelope joins you because Steve has a funny pouty face. 

He rolls his eyes. “Tell ‘em who’s your Toto?” 

“Cinderella!”

“No way!” You match her level of excitement. “Does she have a costume?” 

“No, but I have a basket for her to sit in.” 

You coo, “I bet Cinderella will love that.” 

Steve snorts because he knows you know Cinderella will in fact not love that. 

Cinderella is supposedly the grumpiest animal he’s ever met. She was a quick, unfortunately painful, lesson on boundaries for Penelope– not to pet certain areas or animals as a whole. Steve described her as an old, scraggly thing with a temper flaring unpredictably from one moment to the next. He wasn’t a cat person to begin with, growing up in a house with no animals probably started his revulsion to having fur on his clothes; but at two and a half, Penelope begged to feed the stray on their porch and she just kept coming back. 

Steve wanted a dog when he moved out, if anything at all; but in four years he’s learned more about sacrifice than any speech his parents tried to drill into his head. And Cinderella is practically Penelope’s best friend now. She sets aside birthday money for new cat toys– the crinkly ones are her favorite– and sneaks the cat through her bedroom window from time to time. She even cradles her like a baby, not without protest and the occasional scratch, of course, but Penelope knows the risk. 

“I told her Cinderella probably won’t want to come trick or treating but she can still take a picture with her at home.” 

“I told you she will want to go because there’s candy.” 

“Yes, but I told you cats can’t have candy,” Steve jabs her side lightly. 

Penelope only pouts. “That’s sad. I think she would like candy.” 

“It is,” he agrees, slotting a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. “But it makes them sick, remember? So we can’t share with Cinderella.” 

Her cheek melds with his sleeve, begrudgingly agreeing with a sigh. “Can I get my face painted?” 

Steve traces her line of sight to the ring of kids swarming the face painter. It’s not far. He can see well enough to recognize most of the children. Many are younger than Penelope too. 

But Steve hesitates, “Can you wait until I’m done eating? I’ll go with you.”

“Daddy,” she whines, pinching his arm hair. “You take forever.”

Penelope’s got magical little eyes. You don’t know how Steve ever says no. 

“I can take her,” you offer, stacking trash on your plate. “I’m done anyway.” 

“No, it’s okay.” He deflates with a sigh, curling into his ribs so he can see her face. “You can go by yourself–”

Her frown washes away just as fast as she peels herself off of his arm. 

“But! You have to come straight back when you’re done and you have to stay where I can see you. ‘Kay?” 

“‘Kay!” She beams, nearly tripping on her dress as she swings her legs over the bench and breaks into a run. 

Steve can’t hide the wobble in his smile as hard as he tries to be strong. Most of the hardships he’s faced as a parent are foreign to you, but clearly, this isn’t easy for him. 

“She’ll be fine,” you reassure with a ginger squeeze to his wrist. “We aren’t far if she needs something.” 

He nods, still locked in on Penelope. “I know, I know. I’m trying really hard not to be a helicopter parent as she gets older. It sucks though, feeling like she doesn’t need me anymore.” 

“Steve,” you deadpan, prying his attention back. “That’s… silly. You’re her dad, of course she still needs you. Maybe not all the time or as much but she’ll always need you.” 

“I dunno. I feel like she grows an inch every time I turn around. I never thought I’d say this, but I actually miss when she was in diapers. She’s cute now, but God was she cute then.” He chuckles to himself, eyes swinging from Penelope to you and then back. 

“I believe it,” you grin, admiring his girl. Her cheeks are red from the cold, like two tomatoes framing her lips. She might like to wear your jacket, you consider, but she’s so small, perhaps she’ll overheat from too many layers.

Penelope scrambles into the chair when it’s her turn, talking a mile a minute to the face painter. A funny wave of emotion roves over you. There’s affection and joy and and then something heavier and harder to describe. 

“I’ll have to show you her baby pictures sometime.” You hear the parting of a true smile. “There’s this one– it was her first birthday– I gave her a whole cake and she just demolished it. Had it in her hair and her eyelashes and in between her toes. She was so damn happy.” 

You exhale a happy hum, turning back to Steve. He’s propped on his elbows now, close enough to discern each eyelash from the next. It doesn’t startle you as much as it just scrapes the words right off your tongue. 

He’s reading you, churning, and chasing the right words all in between the blink of an eye. “We should hang out, you know? Like actually– We always talk about it but…” He shakes his head, trailing off. 

He’d let the words be carried with the wind if you wanted. It’s hard to imagine you’d say no, but people have surprised him in worse ways. Just when he thinks he knows someone, truly knows them, they cut him off like he’s no more than a dying branch. The ghosts of past someones and somethings still haunt him. It makes being so forward with you all the more difficult. 

You wear a whimsical sort of grin that you hide behind the brush of your hand, fighting your own flood of emotions. “Yeah– I mean, yeah. When?” 

Excitement flares across his features. “What are you doing on Halloween? You could come trick-or-treating with us?”

“Probably just home handing out candy– but Steve, I don’t want to intrude on Halloween. It sounds really special to Penelope.”

“You wouldn’t! No way, Penelope would be thrilled if you came. She talks about you a lot, you know?” 

“No she doesn’t,” you grin madly into your palm, peering over to her. Her face is dressed in a bright shade of orange now. With her pudgy cheeks, she reminds you of a little pumpkin. 

“She does! Swear it– on my life.” He’s not lying. He can’t hold your eyes when he lies, even about silly things. 

You huff, feeling foolishly giddy. “I don’t have time to get a costume, Steve.” 

“Nonsense. We can find you one. I’ll make it if I have to. The Tin Man and The Scarecrow are still up for grabs.” 

You swallow, washing the sudden dryness from your throat. Why does Steve have to be so damn cute and sweet all at once? “I dunno. Would it be fine if I didn’t dress up?” 

He chuckles dryly. “Penelope won’t have that, I can tell you that much. Plus if I’m going to be tortured into some itchy lion onesie I expect you’ll do the same.” He’s teasing, which is typical for you both, but it’s like you’ve forgotten how. 

“Steve.”

“Come on. If not for me, for Penelope. She’ll love it.” 

“Okay,” you settle. But you aren’t really settling. He could ask you to dress up on any other day of the year and you’d do it. 

Penelope races over– a tabby cat with long whiskers and a pastel pink nose– yelling, “Daddy, look!”

Steve beams at her like he stuck a lightbulb in his mouth, somehow brighter than before. “I see! You look so pretty, princess.” 

“I’m like Cinderella.”

“You are!” He pats her former seat beside him until she sits. 

Her long lashes flutter questioningly. 

“Nell, don’t you think we need, I dunno, like a Tinman or a Scarecrow to go with our costumes on Halloween?” 

She tracks his gaze over to you, adopting your smirk. “Are you coming trick-or-treating with us?” Her voice is uneven and bubbly with anticipation. 

“Do you want me to?” You ask genuinely. 

Penelope’s tongue wriggles in her mouth like she can’t find the proper words to express what she feels. But she nods in this bashful way against Steve’s shoulder that surprises you. 

“Are we being shy now?” Steve remarks, pulling her into his arms effortlessly to peck her hairline. 

“No,” she whines against his sweater, overjoyed to be smothered in love. Dry paint creases with her scrunched face. It’s an adorable sight. You keep wishing you had a camera on you because this is the kind of thing Steve probably puts in his photo albums. 

The moon climbs the sky quickly, draping the party in a silver veil. Many stay for the campfire and the promise of smores. But the later it gets, the crankier kids become for their parents. Penelope’s no exception, whining and clinging to Steve until he agrees to hold her. And he tries to work still, but his arms are starting to burn and stamping hayride tickets isn’t easy one-handed so he makes the hard choice to leave before cleanup. 

He feels awful, apologizing to several of his coworkers on the way out but most are too drunk on cider or too high on festive cheer to care. Besides, he’s paid a salary, doing this out of the kindness of his heart. He has no obligation to be here– you’d reminded him of that multiple times. But the festival does feel empty when they leave, even with half the town still around. 

ᯓ★

Steve lives in a quiet pocket outside of town on a curvy, secluded stretch of road. The directions he’d scrawled out on a receipt weren’t as useful as you’d hoped as one of the street names you were intended to turn on was smudged beyond legibility. But you made it, parked in front of a white house with a similarly white picket fence. Steve’s beamer is idled to your right. It’s strange seeing it somewhere that’s not the rec center. But it’s a familiar comfort between so much new. 

There’s a tire swing knotted to the oak tree in the yard, a collection of painted rocks in the pebble-lined path up to the house, and two carved pumpkins set outside the door, caving in on themselves but not yet rotting. A lot of love is shared here.  

Penelope answers the door when you knock. She’s half dressed– stockings hugging a pair of fleece leggings and a flowy pajama tank top. Her eyes outline your costume and light up with approval. 

You sport a flannel and denim overalls stuffed with prickly straw straight from the local farm, courtesy of Steve. But Penelope ogles your face paint more than anything– a stitched grin and two circles for blush. You hope it’s not scary looking. 

She doesn’t know how to let you inside– she’s not supposed to answer the door after all– so she hangs clumsily off the door handle until you ask, “Can I come in?” 

“Yes,” she teeters out of the way, closing the door behind you with a sweeping grin— the mischievous kind that makes you wonder what she’s up to.

The foyer is situated between the living room and kitchen, both of which are missing Steve. 

“Where’s your dad?” 

“Umm. Cleaning?” 

“Oh. Are you getting ready to go?”

“Yes, but I can’t find my shoes,” she makes a strangled face and shrugs with her entire wingspan.

“Do you want me to help you look?” 

She nods, “I think they’re in my closet.”

Penelope sprints up the stairs easily, leaning over the railing at the top until you hesitantly follow. You hope he won’t mind. You were technically let in. 

It reeks of chemicals upstairs. You stifle a cough and hope it’s Steve, not some science experiment in Penelope’s room. But you don’t worry long. The culprit swings around the corner, juggling several bottles of solutions and sprays. Steve would’ve barreled straight into you had you not thrust your arms out in defense, but still, all his things scatter across the floor. 

“Christ, you scared me.” He kneels, tucking a roll of paper towels against his chest. “Nell, you can’t answer the door without me.” 

“I looked in the window.”

You hand him a sanitizer and shimmy your hat back into place. It’s too big and far too floppy, sagging over your brows no matter how you situate it. Amusement draws his cheeks up as he realizes. You look ready to plop yourself in the middle of someone’s crops and he’s in a tee and jeans you might find him in any other day. His smiley-staring only makes you feel sillier. 

“The straw’s really a nice touch, huh?” Steve teases, picking a sandy stem from your collar with his free hand. He’s got that smirk you so often find on Penelope’s lips. 

You yank the strand from his grasp and poke the column of his throat with it. “I’m definitely more itchy than you’ll be.” 

His fingers encase the entirety of your fist like a shell. They’re knobby and mannish, stout against your own. But there’s a tenderness to his hold as he eases your fist away. You don’t push back, though you contemplate it. He’s never touched you for so long; he’s basically holding your hand. 

“Could’ve been the Tinman,” he says, releasing your fingers at your thigh. 

You suck in, like fuel for a reply, and exhale a breathy, nervous laugh. “And paint my entire body gray? No thanks.” 

He chuckles, eyes darting behind you. “Well, you look great. You like it, Nell?” 

You’d almost forgotten she was there. She’s quiet as a mouse when she wants to be. 

Penelope bobs her head behind you, patiently watching from the doorway to her room. “I have oh-ralls like that.” 

“You do,” Steve confirms, fidgeting with the nozzle on the disinfectant bottle. It reminds you of the smell. 

“You kill someone?” 

He stiffens. “What?” 

You flick the bottle of Windex, serious facade fading. “Smells like you’re trying to cover it up.” 

“Oh! No,” his shoulders soften, “Just a little spring cleaning… in fall.” 

You hum gaily. “I like your house.” 

“You do?” His voice is light, buoyant with relief. “I can give you a tour. A proper one.” 

“I would but I’ve promised a patient little lady I’d help her find her shoes first.”

Penelope beams when you glimpse at her. “I think they’re in my closet,” she shares with Steve. 

“I think so too,” he says, eyeing past her. “What happened to cleaning?” 

“I was but I had to find my costume first.” 

“It’ll be easier to find when your room’s clean.” He sends you a look, “Don’t let her trick you into cleaning for her. She’s sneaky.” Steve whispers the last part, loud and teasing. 

“I’m not sneaky!” 

“Mhmm. I’ll go get ready and then come help you, Nell.” 

“Then trick-or-treat?” 

“Yes,” he starts down the stairs, “Yell if you need me.” 

Penelope tows you into her room by the arm, unphased by the clinking of toys crammed behind the door. Anything in her way gets kicked or shoved aside without a second thought. It’s like her toy chest exploded, a kaleidoscope of pink and purple across the carpet. And no wonder it’s a mess; she starts chucking things out of her closet, adding to the pile spilling out like an avalanche—books, stuffed animals, barbie dolls, baby dolls, and so so many clothes. 

You squeeze by a play tent, scanning the floor. 

“They’re red and sparkly, ‘member?” Penelope calls from behind her closet doors. 

You tip a beanbag over with your foot, “I remember.” 

She babbles to herself as she looks, just like Steve does– little hums and scraps of thought that are hard to catch. It’s a funny thing, to see it translated from one human to another. 

It doesn’t take long to find the shoes, wedged underneath her bed with numerous other things. You go prone against the floor to dig them out and hold them up by the straps. “These it, Pen?” 

She gasps vibrantly. You wish you got up in time to see her face. 

“How did you know they were under there!” She shrieks, snatching them from you. 

“Just had a feeling,” you sit up properly, happily watching her slip the flats on. 

She practically twinkles, clicking her heels together like Dorothy. 

“They look stunning! You painted these?” 

“Yes,” she skips over to her dresser, shuffling through drawer after drawer. Anything folded surely isn’t anymore. 

“You’re a talented artist.” 

“I know. Daddy says.” Penelope yanks out a blue line of fabric. “My dress is so pretty. I’m going to be the prettiest Dorothy for Halloween.” 

“I know you will! You should give your dad a big hug for making such a pretty dress.” 

She buckles into the costume as fast as she can, patting the skirt down with a satisfied grin when it’s on. 

After several compliments and much debate, you’re able to convince her Dorothy would have a clean room. Penelope puts a few things away, but she’s easily distracted. And it’s hard to blame her with so many toys about. So you do most of the cleaning, but you’re happy to. It’ll make Steve happy– lest he finds out it was you– which makes you happy. 

The floor’s mostly cleared when Penelope decides Steve’s taking too long; it’s time for your house tour, with or without him. And when he doesn’t answer her shout it’s decidedly without him. She shows you downstairs first– the living room, the kitchen, the half bath, her favorite hiding spot underneath the stairs. All the while she explains her very detailed and strategic trick-or-treating plan. Staying out until midnight is the priority, she doesn’t seem to care if it’s past her bedtime, and filling several bags with candy is also high on the list. 

“And this is Daddy’s room.” She jerks the door knob several times before yelling, “Daddy!” 

“What?” Steve calls, muffled. 

“Let us in!”

“I can’t hear you– hold on!” 

Steve unlocks the door donning the promised lion onesie and a pair of sneakers. It’s ridiculous how handsome he looks even with a stupid fur collar and tail. 

“Cute,” is all you manage to say. He takes it as teasing, rolling his eyes, though you really mean it. 

“Can you help me? I can’t get my whiskers right.” He taps the cap of an eyeliner pen against his cheek where he’s drawn two lines. 

“Sure.” You take the stick and follow him through his room to the master ensuite. 

“Wait!” Penelope shouts and waves vaguely at the room. “This is Daddy’s room.”

You pause to look it over, jovially commenting, “Wow! Very nice.” 

And it is nice. There’s a rustic set of furniture striped in blue and green accents; paired well with the framed floral prints above his dresser. And the bed’s made, only slightly surprising, topped with a Care Bear’s quilt you assume is Penelope’s. 

In the bathroom, Steve leans against the counter, arms braced behind him on the sink rim. You shuffle in front of his legs, skimming knees accidentally. He has no abhorrence for physical touch, you know that for certain. He’s touchy with not just you, but everyone in the office. An arm around the shoulder, a pat on the back, a gentle squeeze to the arm– he gives these out like candy on Halloween. But even so, touching him isn’t always easy. It’s vulnerable, runs the risk of rejection. 

Steve smiles at you, ever-patient and encouraging when you stall awkwardly. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. Talking any louder feels illegal when he’s so close. You cup his jaw and steady your opposite hand against his cheek, picturing the line how you want it. 

But just when you press into his skin and flick the pen, Penelope slams a drawer shut, startling you enough to flinch. The ink slants all the way behind his ear like a jagged nail. 

You gasp and recoil, “Shit.” 

Penelope gasps twice as loud and Steve crumples into laughter, even more so when he turns to view the damage in the mirror. 

“Oops,” you chuckle nervously, thumbing at the black streak. “This washes off right?” 

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ve redone it like four times.” 

You douse your finger in water and work the pad across his happy cheek gently. 

He’s watching you. You don’t see, just feel it in the fringe of your peripherals. It’s not like he has many places to look when you’re a hair’s breadth from his nose. But he might as well press a magnifying glass against your face, point out every pore and blemish and hair you're insecure about. 

Your cheeks burn and the beginning prickles of sweat coat your upper lip. You brushed your teeth before you arrived, but how could you forget a mint? And what about an extra layer of deodorant? That wouldn’t have hurt. You glance at Steve anxiously and his eyes jump to Penelope. For once you’re grateful not to keep his attention. 

Penelope digs through his cabinet on a quest to find nothing in particular. 

You pull away to judge your first line as Steve opens his mouth. “Nell, go get your brush and hair ties.” 

The top half of her face pops up over the cupboard door like a puppet. “But I want my hair down.” 

“I still have to brush it. And I thought you wanted the bows?” 

She considers his words– her prior words– brows pinching before she shrugs, “Okay.” The cabinet door thuds against its hinges as it claps shut, and not a second later, Steve’s bedroom door slams as Penelope charges out. 

“You would not believe how often I tell this kid not to slam the doors,” he scoffs, though it’s devoid of any real anger. 

You take his chin again, packing away a grin. You have to focus. “Don’t move,” you prompt. 

He’s relaxed in your hold. Still as a stone, maybe apart from the slight tug of his lips when you resume drawing. 

“Tickles,” he murmurs when you lift the nib. 

You print another three to match the trio on his right. It’s not bad, but you wouldn’t say it’s good. The angles are skewed weird and one’s shorter than the rest. But if he wants them any better, you might not be the best person to ask. 

“How’s that?” You draw back, searching for any smudges. 

He spins, briefly inspecting his reflection before facing you again. “Perfect! Thank you!”

Perfect is definitely a stretch. 

Steve’s a perfectionist. You’ve seen it innumerably in the office. How he’ll spend hours revising something only to ruminate on an insignificant detail after. And with Penelope, every parenting decision is subject to endless second-guessing, as if her health and happiness hinges on the smallest nuances. 

But as much as he’s a perfectionist, Steve would never judge you in the same way he might himself. Your whiskers truly are perfect in his eyes, not for the shape or size, but because you drew them– wonky and all. 

The ink warps around his smile. You study his face under the guise of checking your work. Steve’s a handsome guy. An inviting kind of handsome, with shallow laugh lines and the start of stubble stippled across his jaw.  

“Wait,” you square his shoulders, brushing the nape of his neck to reach for his hood. The lion’s mane is laid gently over the top of his hair. 

“Now it’s perfect.” 

He smirks. “Sexy, huh?”

“Should leave this unzipped a little. The cougars will love that.” 

Steve laughs, harder than you think you’ve ever heard him. It’s so contagious even Penelope joins your hysterics when she returns, though she hasn’t a clue what you’re laughing about. 

“What’s so funny?” Penelope lurches into his legs with a handful of hair things. 

“We just think my costume’s kinda silly. Here, baby.” Steve heaves her onto the counter and props her right in between the sinks. 

Her dress pours over her crossed legs like a layered cake, baby blue and white gingham. Steve really did a great job with the stitching; you can’t even tell it was done by hand. And Penelope hasn’t complained about the fit once so it must be comfortable too. 

“Face forward please,” Steve reminds gently for a third time when Penelope twists her neck to speak. 

Penelope frowns at his reflection. “You’re pulling too tight.”

“Sorry. You have to stop moving though.” 

There’s a mild curve to his lips. He’s not aggravated with her fidgeting, in fact, quite the opposite. Maybe because you’re around, he’s in too good of a mood to spoil with something as trivial as his daughter's hair. But regardless, it’s endearing as it is entertaining to care for Penelope. He loves being a dad, even when it’s frustrating. And you can see the love as he braids her hair– how he cards through knots from the ends up and slowly sections off pieces to tackle one at a time. 

“I’m not moving.” Her chin droops as she scratches the polish from her nails. 

Steve cups her jaw, steering it back up. “You are, monkey.” 

“Monkey?” She chortles, seeking your gaze in the mirror to see if you also find the nickname funny. 

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, seizing the rubber band from between his teeth. “Monkeys move a lot.” 

“Do they have tails?”

“Mhmm.”

“You have a tail 'cause you’re a lion.” 

Steve hums and bends back, evaluating his performance. “There. You look so gorgeous, Penelope.” 

And he really has done a great job, especially with all her wiggles. Steve takes a lot of pride in styling his hair– much of his confidence derives from it. And he tries to extend that care to Penelope; to teach her how gorgeous she is and that she deserves to be nurtured. 

Penelope shakes her head disapprovingly. “I’m Dorothy now, Dad.” 

“Oh, sorry.” Steve turns toward you instinctually, happy to catch your smile. 

“You look very very pretty, Miss Dorothy,” you correct. 

She slides off the counter, aided by Steve’s hand. “Can we go now?” 

Penelope waits patiently in the foyer for Steve to gather everything needed to leave. This lasts for all of about ten minutes before Penelope is halfway out the front door, too excited to wait any longer. 

“Wait, Nell!” Steve shouts from beside you in the kitchen. 

You’re choosing snacks and filling water bottles. Steve doesn’t really need to pack a bag for Penelope anymore, she’s a year and a half past diapers, but he likes to feel prepared. 

When Penelope doesn’t answer, he meets her on the porch to explain, “I’m almost done. And we still have to take pictures.” 

“I don’t wanna. I’m ready to leave.” 

“Well, we aren’t leaving until I get a picture of Dorothy.” 

She sighs, lugging herself back inside like she’s got bricks for shoes. “What about Cinderella?” 

“Go and look– get the treats.” 

She scrambles into the kitchen, snagging a jar of cat treats from the counter quickly. You shoulder the backpack and follow her out. Steve joins you not long after, two flashlights and several glowsticks in hand. 

“No Cinderella?” Steve asks, unzipping the bag pressed to your back to stock with more things. 

“No,” Penelope pouts, vigorously shaking the jar in the air. “How can I be Dorothy without Toto.” 

He yanks the zipper back up, then pats her head, “Keep calling. Where’s your jacket?”

“I don’t need it.”

“You will. It’s gonna get cold later. When it’s dark.” 

“It’ll mess up my costume. Dorothy doesn’t wear one.” 

“Let's bring it, just in case. I’ll carry it.” 

Steve jogs back inside, coming out this time with a camera around his neck, a jacket over his shoulder, and a plushie in hand. 

“Here,” he sets a blue stuffed dog on Penelope’s lap. “Backup Toto.” 

Penelope glares up at him, insulted. “This isn’t Toto.” 

“I know. But if we wait for Cinderella we might not have time for trick-or-treating. Why don’t we bring the treats? See if she’s started without us?” 

Penelope deflates, stuffing the dog in her wicker basket. 

“Can I take your picture now?”

“Why, Daddy?” 

“So I can remember how beautiful you look tonight.” 

A petulant bow creases her lips as she peers up. Round, sullen eyes connect with his. 

Steve squats in front of her, taking her much smaller free hand in his. “I know you’re sad about Cinderella but she’d still want you to have fun, right? And she might show up later. I just want to get a picture now so I don’t forget.” 

Penelope nods and Steve kisses her forehead, standing and backing up a few paces. 

“Smile, baby. Please?” He blinks at her through the viewfinder. 

She offers a strangled face– more of a toothy open mouth than a smile; not even close to wide enough to round her cheeks or crescent her eyes like the real deal. But it’s funny and just as cute. Steve snaps a photo and the expression drains from her face as fast as the camera’s flash.

You wander behind Steve and her eyes flick to you. You try funny faces first, frowning so deep your jaw aches, pulling the tip of your nose up like a pigs, winking terribly, but none of it works. Your fingers arch into bunny ears behind Steve’s hair and you stick your tongue out at the back of his head, but still, no dice. 

You have a really awful idea. You’re pretty sure you might die of embarrassment. But it’s worth it to get Penelope to smile. 

“Hey, Penelope? Remember when you told me dinosaurs are silly?” 

She nods. 

“Well, I have a really good dinosaur impression. Can I show you?” 

She nods again, equally jaded. 

You take a deep breath and shake your head, mentally preparing yourself and simultaneously erasing Steve from existence for the moment. A feral screech erupts from the back of your throat, the kind of sound you didn’t know for sure you could make. 

Steve buckles in his crouch, barely catching himself on the pavement with his free hand. A chorus of emotions ripple his features. He’s shocked and then amused and finally focused on capturing the picture, but what resonates the most is a fondness for you. 

You cup a hand over your mouth, rendering a string of different noises, inspired by several animals because what the hell does a dinosaur sound like anyway? You haven’t the faintest clue at the moment.   

Penelope fuses her lips together, unbreaking. 

“Come on Nell, I see that smile,” Steve rallies. 

But she doesn’t give up easy. She’s like Steve in that way. 

As a last resort, you press your lips to your mouth, blowing a raspberry and screwing your face in disgust. “Oh my God, Steve! Did you just fart?” 

He gapes at you, then Penelope, tickled and tongue-tied for comebacks. He can’t think straight, not when you’re making a delightful fool out of yourself, on his behalf, especially. As far as he’s concerned, Penelope’s smiling now or at least failing awfully at hiding it. So he takes several photos of her as she unravels into a giggly heap on the driveway. 

Certainly one of them is photo-album-worthy, but you continue your stunts anyway. “Goodness, what did you eat today?” You backpedal a few steps, fanning the surrounding air, partially to hide your own laugh. “Penelope do you smell that?” 

“Ew! Daddy!” 

You aren’t sure if Penelope actually believes you or if she just wants to join the fun but either way, she’s convincing. 

“I didn’t do it!” Steve defends, dropping the camera on its sling and raising his hands in surrender. “I think it was Penelope this whole time.” 

You gasp. “Penelope!” 

“I didn’t!” She cries, shaking her head aggressively. “I promise, I didn’t!” 

“I dunno. The closer I get the more stinky it smells.” Steve slinks up to her with outstretched hands that threaten tickles. 

She screams when he snatches her up, swearing up and down, “I didn’t, Daddy!” 

He’s well-practiced at being the tickle monster; knows every sensitive strip of skin to target. She was doomed from the start. Giggles spill out in jagged layers punctuated with gasps of air. Steve tickles her all the way down the driveway to the car, out of breath himself by the time he sets her on the trunk. 

Penelope deliriously eyes his hands where they rest on the beamer. 

“You ready to go trick-or-treating, Little Miss Dorothy?” You ask. 

She nods, dimples deepening with mirth.

“Here. Will you start it?” Steve fishes his keys out of his pocket and tosses them to you. “Come on, pretty girl.” 

She slides into her car seat happily, bouncing with excitement as he buckles her in. Steve’s told you before it’s not always so easy. 

“I really didn’t fart,” Penelope says. 

He chuckles, sewing a kiss to her cheek, “I know, baby. We’re just kidding.” 

Steve settles into the driver’s seat, depositing the stack of developed polaroids in your lap. You shuffle through as he backs out, flashing him your favorites; the best is one where she’s planted a hand on her hip and is rolling her eyes. You adore this little drama queen more and more every day. 

The drive’s only a few minutes, just to a denser part of the neighborhood to avoid long stretches with no houses. Steve parks against an empty grass lot behind another car. This area’s already bustling with kids which adds to Penelope’s anticipation. 

“Daddy, look– it’s Minnie Mouse!” 

Steve inspects the crowd through the window. “Yeah, you remember when you were Minnie Mouse?” 

“I was?” 

“Mhmm. You had ears and I painted your face. You were little.” He unbuckles, grabbing the backpack stashed at your feet. 

“Oh. Am I still little?” 

He pauses to melt, just to himself and only a bit. It’s too early to be sentimental– a long night of fun awaits. Steve cranes over his seat to see her face. “Yes, you’re still little. But you’re growing a lot. I think you might be as tall as me, one day.” 

“Nooo,” she giggles, waving her foot at him. 

“I dunno,” he sing-songs back, squeezing her shoe before turning back around. 

Steve distributes a handful of glowsticks, shoving a few extra in Penelope’s basket. You guys start down the block as the sun sinks below the treeline, more than enough time to complete Penelope’s plan which she reminds you of. She takes Steve’s hand, then yours, and it strikes you suddenly how much you appear as a family to outsiders. It’s not an unwelcome feeling, just a strange one. 

At the first house, Penelope knocks hard and declares to the elderly woman who answers, “Trick or treat!” She repeats it, insisting with wide eyes that she deserves two pieces of candy for her double effort. And the woman can’t resist her charm, obliging with a handful of pieces. Steve jokes it off, calls her a bargainer, but you gawk at the interaction. 

At the second house, she points to you and Steve, arguing you deserve candy too since you’re both in costume. And it works, scoring you each a piece that ends up in her tote anyway. By the third, you can’t keep a straight face, her antics are hilariously cute and you compliment Steve for raising such a little mastermind. 

You fall into a routine steadily, loafing along the road with Steve while Penelope trots up to each house. 

“Last year she was Snow White and the year before a cat,” Steve explains when you ask. 

“She likes princesses’.” 

“Less so now but yeah. She used to say she wanted to be a princess when she grew up.” 

“Can’t blame her.” You watch her fondly from afar. She picks a piece of candy off the ground and debates before tossing it in with the others. “What does she wanna be now?” 

“Changes all the time. Last it was a detective.” He beckons Penelope over. “Nell, what do you want to be when you grow up?” 

She fiddles with her basket handle. You’ve done two streets and it’s almost full. You're starting to think you’ll have to buy a pillowcase off of someone.

“Umm… Can I be a trick-or-treater?” 

“What!” Steve flips her braid over her shoulder, “That’s just for one day, goofball.” 

“Well… then,” she hums, squinting at the surrounding swarm of characters and creatures. “Maybe a pirate?” 

You and Steve share a look of amusement. You do that a lot now. It’s instinctual. Finding each other's eyes, even in a room full of people it’s easy. Sometimes there’s just too much joy not to share. 

“Daddy, how many houses are left?” 

“There’s quite a few on this street. You tired?” 

“No. Can I see? I want to count.” 

She doesn’t seem tired to you but Steve’s able to read her with the tiniest details. It’s like he’s got superpowers sometimes– dad superpowers. But maybe he’s just guessing, it’s getting closer to bedtime.

Steve boosts her onto his shoulders with a hefty groan about “getting old” which you bicker over because he’s only twenty-six. 

Penelope counts eleven houses, eight with lights on, but buzzes about a particular home illuminated with rainbow LEDs and a giant spider. And it’s even cooler than she described up close, mansion-like, decked out with spotlights and decorations taller than you and Steve combined.

A motionless clown holds a bloody bucket of candy outside. Their decorations are so extravagant, it’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s fake. But you’re pretty sure the clown just blinked and you make sure Steve’s aware of that, not that he was letting Penelope go alone anyway. 

Steve scoops Penelope up before she gets very far up the driveway despite her complaints. 

“I’m not scared, Daddy,” she assures. And there’s nothing that tells you she is– she’s just as cheery and bright-eyed as before. 

“I know, princess.” He rubs her arm, scanning for other statues with the potential to come alive. “I’m kinda scared, though.” 

She tips her head at him, puzzled because it’s always the other way around. But her arms coil around his neck, a loving press of affection that she learned from him. 

And whether he’s actually afraid to be jumpscared or just subconsciously ingraining in her that it’s okay if she is, you aren’t really sure. Probably both, and either way, it warms your insides. 

The clown cocks its head slowly when Penelope reaches in the bowl. 

She cocks her head back, innocently amused. “Trick-or-treat?” 

The clown nods, pushing the bowl toward her. 

Steve sags just a hair but remains very much on high alert. 

You mouth your appreciation— “Thanks.” Thanks for not scaring my coworker-friends-child who I’ve grown really fond of and would hate to see cry. 

“Daddy, can we go in there?” Penelope points to a tunnel opening, fringed with black streamers and flashing lights– some sort of haunted house walk-through that wraps around the home. 

“No, baby. That’s for big kids.” 

She spots a group of teenagers exit the other side, screaming, laughing, and doubling over each other into the grass. 

“I really wanna go– please, I’ll be so brave. I’m not even scared,” she pleads, flashing him a wobbly frown. 

But there’s no expression she could pull right now that would change his mind, not when he hears a chainsaw buzzing inside. She could throw herself on the ground and kick and cry and he’d still refuse. He knows enough kids that have been traumatized by horror-movie-type creatures and characters; he’ll be damned if his daughter becomes one of them. 

Penelope sulks for a few houses but she has loads more candy to collect and decides not to waste her time for too long. 

“Can you hold this?” She thrusts her basket toward Steve. It’s overflowing at this point; you’ve all started cramming candy in your pockets, hoping it’s cold enough outside that nothing melts. Steve’s been beating himself up for three blocks for forgetting the backpack in the car. 

“Sure,” he says, retracting his hand from his pocket.

But before he takes it, you joke, “Better keep an eye on him. He might eat some when you’re not lookin’.”

Penelope studies him for a long moment before shifting the bag toward you. 

“Penelope! You don’t really believe that do you?” He scoffs, breathily laughing.

You cackle as she shrugs and sprints to the next house. 

Steve bumps your shoulder, snaking a hand in the basket to steal a pack of M&Ms off the top. “Blowin’ my whole operation.” 

“Steve,” you scold and bump him back. “Don’t get me in trouble.” 

“She won’t notice.” He waves you off, tearing the wrapper with his teeth. “But if she does I’m saying it was you.” 

You whack his arm, glowing bright as the moon, “Asshole.” 

Penelope doesn’t complain about her feet aching once the whole night and you know they probably do because yours started hurting forever ago. Surely she gets some kid-sized Oscar for that. And Steve being the great dad he is offers to carry her on the way back to the car anyway. 

“Daddy?” 

Steve hums, hoisting her up where she slips. 

“Can we go trick or treating tomorrow?”

He glances at you, confirming you also hear this cuteness. “No, baby. Tomorrow’s not Halloween.”

“I know, but we should still go. I bet lots of people still have candy. Like, leftovers.” She yawns into his shoulder where his fur hood has been tugged down to warm his neck and double as a makeshift pillow. 

“Don’t you have enough candy?”

“No. I need more Reese’s for you.”

“You’re gonna give them to me?”

“Only some. I like them too.” 

“That’s kind of you.” 

Her eyes are half-lidded and struggling, but she’s still awake as Steve stows her into her car seat. She chatters sluggishly to keep herself up and you and Steve entertain it; it’ll make bedtime easier if she doesn’t fall asleep in the car. Perhaps handing her a pack of Smarties was overkill because apparently, it has enough sugar to wire her longer than the five-minute drive home. 

No slower than Steve can lock the front door, Penelope dumps the contents of her bag on the floor. A bouquet of candy wrappers, big and small, enough to last her months if she’s patient. 

“You can have five more pieces tonight.” 

Penelope smirks at Steve before he’s even finished. “Ten?” 

“Six. But you have to brush your teeth for twice as long.” Before she can rebuttal he shakes his head. “Final offer.” 

“Fine,” she huffs, combing through her pile. She sorts them into categories while Steve prepares her bath. It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is already on– Steve has a bad habit of forgetting to turn the TV off when he leaves– but you find the remote when Penelope asks you to turn the volume up. 

“You can have these,” she announces, pushing a chunk of her goodies toward you. It’s mostly things she doesn’t like: twizzlers and dark chocolate and anything with peanuts. But she did sneak in one of your favorites you’d mentioned earlier that night. She really is a sweetheart. 

“Thank you, Penelope. That’s very nice of you.” 

“These are for Daddy,” she points to a second pile, smacking loudly on the gummy bear she just decapitated. “He loves chocolate but he got a cavity once because he ate too much.” 

“Are you talking about me?” Steve hollers, clambering down the stairs two at a time. 

“No?” Penelope giggles. 

His hands snap to his hips once he treks into the living room. “Alright, it’s bath time then bedtime Miss Dorothy.”

Penelope looks utterly betrayed. She’s only eaten three things and– “It’s not even late yet,” she whines. 

He pretends to check his watch, “It is.” 

It’s not but she can’t tell time yet. 

“Can we watch Oz, Daddy, please? There’s no school tomorrow, ‘member?”

“We watched it last night, peanut. Why don’t we watch a Halloween movie?” 

Peanut, pumpkin, princess, he calls her all sorts of cute things. Is it wrong to wish he called you cute things too? 

“I wanna watch Oz. I’m Dorothy so we have to.” She drags out the last syllable until she runs out of breath. 

Penelope’s over-tired. Delirious and whiny and easily hysterical when she doesn’t get her way. And it’s not that Steve thinks he should give in when she’s like this, he’s just tired too. And you’re here and it’s the weekend so what will one movie really do? He can guarantee she’ll fall asleep during it anyway. 

“Okay. Only if you’re super-duper fast in the bath.”

She shouts and whizzes upstairs. 

Steve diverts his attention to you, “You wanna stay? I can make popcorn.” 

Of course, you’d love to stay, and not just for the promise of popcorn, but you’re afraid if you do, you’ll never want to leave. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He makes a face– a ridiculously lovely one. “Go sit. We’ll be quick.” 

They aren’t quick but there are photo albums on the coffee table that you’re happy to look through in the meantime. You flick through beats of their life like stills of a movie. There are baby photos, school pictures, movie stubs, plane tickets, and several people you don’t know the names of. It’s weird– getting snippets of things about them you had no idea of. You’re filling the gaps as you go. 

Penelope returns first, frolicking her way to the entertainment center in fresh pajamas. She’s on a mission by the looks of it, making a mess of the VHS collection in the cabinet. By the time Steve arrives, most of the films are splayed across the carpet. 

“Oz is already in, silly goose. We watched it yesterday remember?” 

Penelope drops the tape in her hands, “Oh.” 

Steve hunches over her, slotting the films away one by one. She doesn’t help much, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

Penelope clambers onto the couch beside you and Steve beside her. It’s a long sectional, enough room for several others. But Penelope scoots in right beside you so you're hip to hip. And Steve makes himself comfortable more in the middle cushion than the farthest. 

His onesie has been traded for sweats and his whiskers scrubbed away– though a faded, gray smear crosses his jawline. You consider telling him, or licking your thumb and scratching it away yourself, but it makes you feel less weird to be the only one still in costume so you let it stay. 

“I like these,” you tug the cotton pant leg of Penelope’s outfit. It’s a matching set, frilly and plaid with a black cat stamped to the torso.

She tucks her lower lip away sheepishly and pushes her crown into your shoulder. Her hair's damp, soaking your sleeve cold, but you fawn at the affection more than anything. 

“Did you find that picture? From her first birthday? I think it’s in there.” Steve gestures toward the closed album in your lap with the remote but remains glued to the TV. 

“No, I didn’t finish looking.”

“I wanna see,” Penelope arches over your legs, prying the book open. 

Steve rewinds the film to the start and pauses it so he can look too. 

You thumb the plastic sheet over a recent image of Penelope scrunching her nose at the camera, a riot of stickers across her face. 

“RoRo!” She taps the photo beside it. It’s a haphazard blur, most likely captured by Penelope; you make out the shape of Steve first, then the less angular, slightly shorter person– a woman, RoRo. You think Penelope’s mentioned her before but nothing about the picture rings any bells. 

“Mhmm. That’s Robin. Remember this was at the airport?” 

“Is that when we got pizza?” 

“Yeah!” Steve rubs her arm. “You have a good memory.”  

You turn the page, revealing a set of grainy, blue-tinted photos from the same roll of film. Steve looks young for his age now, but he looked like a baby then. Strangely though when there’s an actual infant in his arms. He was thinner then but even softer in the face. Not unhappy, per se, but maybe missing a lightness he has now.  

“This was on my twenty-third birthday,” he explains. “Look how little you were!”

“Did I eat cake?” 

“No, you were too young, baby.” He chuckles, pointing to another photo. “You tried a banana for the first time in this one.”

“I like bananas.”

“You didn’t used to.” 

Steve and Penelope share slices of their pasts fondly. You study the photos, compare these reflections to the people you find yourself next to. There’s an unexpected pinch in your chest– not getting the chance to know these versions of them, it makes you sad. But it’s a happy sort of sad. You’re grateful to know them now. 

Penelope begs to flip through another album but Steve decides it’ll be too late to finish The Wizard of Oz if they do. His true reluctance stems from how emotional the first one made him– though you’ll pretend not to notice for his sake. 

Steve bets Penelope an extra Reeses that she’ll fall asleep by the time Dorothy meets the scarecrow. It’s unfair, really. You tell Penelope not to pinky promise it but she does. And she loses awfully, yawning within five minutes and startling herself awake within ten. You scoff when Steve starts carding through her hair– her guaranteed snooze switch. It’s evil and you tell him so. So of course, that finishes her off long before Scarecrow makes an appearance; she curls into Steve’s side and digs a heel into yours. Poor girl never stood a chance. 

“She had a lot of fun tonight,” Steve utters. It’s alarming at first, how his voice eclipses the TV like there isn’t a child snoring against his stomach. But she doesn’t stir. He knows she won’t. 

“Did you?” You ask, skating between a whisper and not. 

“Very much. You?” 

“Mhmm. Loads,” you answer without hesitation. It’s possibly the easiest question anyone’s ever asked you. “I think Penelope’s right.”

He quirks an eyebrow against the front of the couch. His cheek is sinking further into the cotton like he might fall asleep. 

“We should go trick-or-treating tomorrow too.” 

His lips wane into a soft smile. If he wasn’t so drained he might laugh too. “What should we be? Penelope has a strict no-repeat costume rule.” 

You hum, scraping your memory for the best costumes you’d seen. There were Power Rangers and Ghostbusters and several Batmen with their Catwomen. But the image of one young family sticks out the most in your mind. A young pair of parents with their son and daughter decked in moody black and white. 

“Addams family?” 

“Who’s who?” 

“She’s Wednesday. Obviously.”

Steve chuckles, accidentally too loud and Penelope twitches against his thigh. He draws her against his chest readily and strokes her spine with the back of his hand. “Obviously,” he whispers. 

“You’re Morticia and I’m Gomez, though.” 

“Oh?”

“Yeah. She’s tall and pretty. Strong jawline, kinda sassy. I think you’ll make it work.” 

You’re flirting. You know you are as soon as you say it. And you don’t mean to, it just happens; the words come intuitively as blinking. Your brain does all sorts of crazy things around Steve. 

“You think I’m pretty?” He’s smiling hard. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. 

“Pretty sassy, yeah,” you deflect. It’s a safer truth than admitting you do think he’s pretty. 

He rolls his eyes. “My mom says Nell gets her attitude from me. Says it’s payback for how I was as a child.” 

You gawk emphatically. “Were you a bad kid Steve Harrington?”

“I wasn’t bad– just needed attention I think.” 

You hum. It’s a little surprising since you know Steve’s an only child to wealthier parents. You’d pegged him to be spoiled in both money and attention.

“Are you close with your parents?”

He shakes his head, “Not really. Talk every now and then.”

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t be. I came to terms with it a while ago. Even more after she was born.” He skims his lips against Penelope’s head. “I can’t imagine not being in her life. You know, not really knowing her? Not knowing her favorite things or when she’s hurting or what she’s up to every second of the day. I don’t think that’ll ever change.”  

“She’ll be so grateful to have that kind of relationship when she’s older.” 

“Yeah, maybe. Like way older.” His shoulders droop as he sighs, “She already thinks I’m smothering her. Wouldn’t hold my hand yesterday because she’s ‘too big’ she said.” 

“Already?” You laugh.

“I know!” He groans. “I almost cried.” 

“She loves you. Kids just show it in strange ways.” 

“Yeah… She forced me to hold a slug last week.” 

“You held it?” 

“I had to! She was so excited to give it to me.”

“Aww. You’re a good dad.” 

Steve's eyes caper down and his cheeks pinken. “I’m trying to be.” 

Apart from the movie and an occasional sleep sigh from Penelope, silence swallows the room. It’s a comfortable silence; the kind you only get around people you’ve known forever; It feels like you’ve known Steve your entire life. You have to remind yourself it’s only been a few months. Remind yourself this is the first time you’ve ever even hung out. 

You find yourself drifting to the future. A future, with Steve and Penelope. Vacations and school events and hiking trips and movie nights and so much more. It’s silly. It makes your heart want to rip itself from your chest. 

Steve clears his throat. Your fantasy is only partially dissolved. “I’m gonna take her upstairs. Put her to bed.” 

You lean forward and press into your knees, gearing to stand. “Okay. I should get going. It’s late.” 

“Stay for a minute. I’ll walk you out.”

You have no reason to decline but even if you did, you aren’t sure you would be able to. Saying no to Steve is as hard as saying no to Penelope. They have the same puppy-dog eyes– brown and soft as sun-baked clay. That must be it. 

Steve strains to stand with the added weight. He’s strong but Penelope’s four now and having growth spurts like there’s a race to be the tallest kid in school. She clings to him instinctually, slotting her face into his neck like it was sculpted specifically to be her pillow. Her gangly legs sway against his thighs as he slowly climbs the stairs and disappears onto the landing.  

You don’t notice Steve’s return. He’s much quieter than before, taking softer steps and more calculated movements. He doesn’t have the buffer of his body heat to soothe Penelope back to sleep if she wakes. The palm on your shoulder startles you. 

He whispers an apology from behind the couch, voice sweet and buttery as caramel. You let him guide you the short distance to the front door– expecting it to end there– but he presses into a pair of laced sneakers thrown beside the entry table. 

The night’s chill is jolting, even in your coat. It’s easy to forget the months are slipping into winter when Steve’s around. He radiates warmth, not just in sun-kissed skin and honeyed eyes, but in his tone and his touches and every aspect of his spirit. And it bleeds like a fire. Brushes your cheeks like flames and stirs perpetually in your belly like magma. 

He walks you the entire length of his driveway to your car. Probably would’ve opened the door for you if you didn’t beat him to it. 

“Thank you for inviting me Steve,” you say, lingering in the threshold of your open door. 

“Thank you for coming. I’m really happy you came. So is Penelope.” 

“As much as I am looking forward to The Addams Family next year, we should plan something… maybe a little sooner?” 

“Mmm. Let me check my schedule first,” he teases, rapping his fingers against the roof of your car. 

“Whatever, boss-man.”

You still don’t get in. There’s a stretch of silence, not awkward, just a placeholder for when the right words come. And they don’t. Not tonight anyway. You could hug him? Peck his cheek? Pat his back as he might yours? 

You settle for a safe and simple tight-lipped smile. He appreciates it just the same. 

“See you Friday?” He asks. 

“See you then.” 

Steve guides the door closed after you settle in. He waits until your taillights have completely fizzled out in the shadows of his street to stroll back up to his house. 

He thinks of you as he locks the front door and again as he finds your hat on the sectional and a third time as he slips under his sheets. Steve isn’t sure what to do. He feels sick. His heart is hammering and his gut twists itself in knots like it does when he’s afraid. He hasn’t quite figured out what about you is so scary but how can he possibly wait until Friday to find out? 

[brunchable]

You told Bucky that, 'He's right' 《Drabble》

Words: ≈600

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x f!reader.

A/N: omg i actually wrote a short story. Dunno if you'd call it a drabble if its >100words but eh. Divider is mine :)

Bucky stared down at his phone, his brow furrowed in confusion. He sat on the edge of the bed, glancing at the door you had just walked through after the argument. Everything about the situation felt... wrong.

"Did I hear that right?" he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You had said the words no married man expects to hear, especially after an argument: "You're right."

A cold sweat broke out on Bucky's forehead. He picked up his phone and hurriedly typed a message to Sam, his thumbs flying over the keys like it was a mission.

Bucky: Hey, I just had an argument with Y/N, and she just told me I was right. What do I do next?

Sam's response came almost immediately, as if he'd been waiting for the exact moment Bucky's world flipped upside down.

Sam: Oh no. What did you do?

Bucky: That's the thing! I didn’t do anything!

Sam: Doubt it. Check again. You definitely did something.

Bucky got up and peeked out the bedroom door. You were calmly sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone as if nothing monumental had just occurred. No fuming. No angry glares. You even had a tiny smile on your face. That, more than anything, terrified Bucky.

He quickly shut the door and leaned against it, typing with even more urgency.

Bucky: I swear! She just said, “You’re right.”

Sam: She said WHAT?

Bucky: “You’re right,” Sam. I’m not messing with you. What do I do? Is this a trap?

A long pause followed. Sam was probably trying to process what Bucky was saying, and that made Bucky even more nervous. His phone buzzed with another message.

Sam: Listen, man, if she said you're right, there's no going back. You’re in uncharted territory now. Just apologize.

Bucky: But she said I’m right!

Sam: And you’re still wrong. Did your Dad not tell you that women are always right?!

Bucky's mind raced. What if this was some sort of test? What if this was a new form of argument he had never encountered before?

Bucky: Okay, but what do I apologize for?

Sam: For breathing. For existing. Pick one, man. Just go with it.

Bucky sighed, rubbing his temples. None of this made sense. He felt like a soldier in a war zone, except the enemy was invisible, and the battle lines were non-existent. He looked at his phone one last time, hoping for some final piece of wisdom from Sam.

Sam: If she said you're right, just apologize and bring her chocolate. And flowers. Actually, maybe throw in a puppy just to be safe.

Bucky: A puppy? Where am I supposed to get a puppy at this hour?

Sam: Figure it out. Good luck, man. It was nice knowing you.

Bucky groaned, shoving the phone in his pocket. He paced for a few minutes, trying to figure out the best approach. Finally, with a deep breath, he walked into the living room, feeling like he was marching to his doom.

You looked up at him with a raised brow. "Something on your mind?"

Bucky cleared his throat, feeling a bead of sweat slide down his back. "Listen, doll, about earlier... I just wanted to say I’m... sorry."

Your brow furrowed slightly. "For what?"

"For... being right?"

Your lips twitched, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, hiding a smile. "Oh, really?"

Bucky shifted nervously. "Yeah, and for... everything else. Just... all of it."

You finally burst into laughter, doubling over as you clutched your stomach. "Oh, Bucky, you’re ridiculous."

Bucky blinked, completely thrown off. "Wait, what? So I’m not in trouble?"

You shook her head, wiping away tears of laughter. "No, you goof, why would you be? I just didn’t feel like arguing anymore. I knew you'd spiral the moment I said you were right."

Bucky blinked. “So, you were messing with me.”

You grinned mischievously, shrugging a shoulder. "Just a little. But I like the apology."

Bucky shook his head with a grin. “I swear, you’re going to be the death of me, doll.”

As you laughed, Bucky’s phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen to see another message from Sam.

Sam: You still alive?

Bucky: Barely. You owe me a puppy.

[gilbertscurls]

Heyy can you do a matt x reader one where reader is filming a car video with the triplets and they told people to send in questions for her some one put” give me a chance y/n I’ll treat youill treat way better than Matt” replies with “hit me up yk my insta” Matt gets mad for rest of the video and when they arrive at their shared home with the trips they make up and cuddle

hope you like it!! <3

Hit Me Up ➵ Matt Sturniolo

The car was filled with its usual lively energy, the kind of banter that made the Sturniolo Triplets’ videos so entertaining. You were sitting in the backseat, right next to Nick, with Chris and Matt in the front. The camera propped up in the front caught everyone’s reactions, as usual. Today was special, though. They had asked their fans to send in questions for you.

As someone who had appeared on their channel here and there over the years, people were always curious about you—how you fit in with the triplets and, more specifically, about your relationship with Matt. Today’s video was meant to be light and fun, a chance for you to answer some of the silly and random questions their followers had sent in.

The laughter came easily as Chris read the first few questions, and you answered, giving playful responses while Nick threw in his sarcastic commentary. Everything was going fine, until Chris’s voice trailed off as he read one of the questions that had come in.

“Oh, okay, we’ve got a spicy one,” he said, holding back a laugh as his eyes darted from the screen to you and Matt. “‘Give me a chance, Y/N, I’ll treat you way better than Matt.’”

Your stomach dropped, and for a split second, the air in the car felt heavier. You could feel Matt tense in the front seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. The joking atmosphere shifted.

Instead of brushing it off, you felt a mischievous grin tug at your lips. You looked straight into the camera and, with a playful tone, replied, “Hit me up, you know my Insta.”

You could hear Nick and Chris laugh at your response, but Matt… Matt didn’t say anything. His jaw clenched ever so slightly, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. You could feel his mood darken from where you sat, and the lighthearted energy in the car shifted awkwardly as the conversation moved on.

The rest of the video felt different. Whenever someone tried to involve Matt in the conversation, he gave short, clipped answers, his usually playful tone replaced with something colder. You glanced at him through the rearview mirror a few times, but he avoided your gaze, his eyes glued to the road or the questions on his phone.

It wasn’t long before Nick noticed Matt’s shift in mood. “What’s with you, Matt? You good, bro?” Nick asked, eyeing him curiously.

“Yeah,” Matt muttered, his voice tight, “just tired.”

That was a lie. Everyone in the car knew it. You tried to shake off the sinking feeling in your chest as you realized he was actually mad about your joke, and though you wanted to say something, you knew this wasn’t the time or place. Not on camera.

The rest of the video dragged on, Matt growing more and more snappy with each passing minute. When it was finally over, Nick turned off the camera, and you all sat in silence for a moment before heading back home. The tension between you and Matt was palpable.

When you arrived at the house you shared with the triplets, Matt was out of the car as soon as it was parked, muttering something about going to his room. He didn’t wait for anyone, didn’t say a word to you. The door slammed behind him, leaving you standing there with Nick and Chris.

Nick gave you a look, his eyebrows raised. “What the hell was that about?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off even though your heart was sinking. “I think he’s mad about that question.”

Nick chuckled. “You’re kidding, right? It was obviously a joke.”

“Yeah, well, Matt’s being Matt,” Chris said, his voice a little softer. “Maybe you should go talk to him?”

You nodded, already dreading the conversation that was about to come. You made your way inside and up to Matt’s room. The door was closed, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking gently.

“What?” His voice was sharp, but you could tell he was trying to keep it in check.

You slowly opened the door, peeking inside. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor. His usual laid-back expression was replaced with a frown, his whole body tense.

“Can I come in?” you asked, your voice soft.

He didn’t look at you, but he gave a small nod. You stepped inside and closed the door behind you, walking over to sit beside him on the bed.

There was a beat of silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

“You’re mad,” you finally said, though it wasn’t really a question.

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Of course I’m mad, Y/N. How am I supposed to feel when you joke about that?”

You frowned, the confusion and frustration starting to bubble up inside you. “It was a joke, Matt. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t feel like one.” His voice was tight, the hurt seeping through despite his attempt to keep it at bay. “It’s not funny to hear someone say they’d treat you better than me, and then for you to play along with it? What was I supposed to think?”

You stared at him, your heart sinking further as you realized how deeply it had affected him. “Matt, I didn’t mean it. You know that I’d never actually—”

He cut you off, finally looking up at you, his eyes filled with frustration. “But you said it. You said, ‘Hit me up, you know my Insta,’ like… like it wouldn’t bother me at all. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? Like I’m not enough.”

His words hit you hard, guilt settling in as you realized how much your thoughtless comment had hurt him. You reached out, placing a hand on his knee. “I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t think… I didn’t realize it would hurt you like that. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have said it.”

He let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging as some of the tension left his body. “I just… I don’t like the idea of anyone thinking they could take you away from me.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice, and you moved closer, wrapping your arms around him. He tensed for a moment before finally relaxing into your embrace, resting his head on your shoulder.

“No one could ever take me away from you,” you whispered, your voice soft and full of reassurance. “I’m with you because I want to be. I love you, Matt. You’re more than enough for me.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but you felt his arms slowly wrap around you, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours made the tension in the room start to melt away, replaced by the comfort of being together.

“I love you too,” he mumbled, his voice quieter now, more gentle. “I’m sorry for snapping at you… I just— I don’t know, sometimes I get insecure.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, brushing a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to be insecure. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Matt gave a small nod, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Okay.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, and he closed his eyes, letting out a content sigh as he leaned into your touch. For a moment, you both just sat there, the weight of the argument fading away as you held each other.

“Come on,” you said after a while, your voice soft and teasing. “Let’s go lay down.”

Matt nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he followed you to the bed. You curled up together, his arms wrapped securely around you as you rested your head on his chest. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart beneath you was all the reassurance you needed.

“I’m really sorry,” you whispered again, tracing small patterns on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “It’s okay. I just… I love you so much. It freaks me out sometimes.”

You smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with affection for him. “I love you too, Matt. Always.”

And with that, the last remnants of the argument dissolved, replaced by the comforting quiet of being in each other’s arms. The world outside didn’t matter anymore — it was just you and Matt, together, as it had always been.

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