#I mean the shirt looks good if you squint

[nilla03]

“𝐵𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑦“

𝑃𝑙𝑜𝑡：𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑖 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑡 ����𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑏

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠： 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑖，𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑔ℎ 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔，𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦

Nanami wasn't thrilled about you going out, but he let you go. You had pouted, kissed his jaw, and assured him you'd be safe, promising to text him throughout the night. He trusted you-of course, he did-but that didn't mean he liked the idea of you in some dark, crowded club, surrounded by drunk men who wouldn't know how to keep their hands to themselves.

Still, he kissed your forehead before you left, his large hands squeezing your waist as he muttered, "Be good."

You had every intention of listening. Really, you did.

But a few drinks in, and things started getting a little hazy.

You were laughing with your friends, dancing under the dim neon lights, feeling warm and weightless as the alcohol pulsed through your veins. You had been texting Nanami like you promised-little updates here and there-but at some point, your replies got lazy, a few too many typos slipping in, and then... nothing.

That's when he decides to come get you.

By the time Nanami arrived, you were at the bar, giggling at something your friend said, a drink in your hand that you were already too tipsy to finish. He spotted you instantly-your pretty outfit, your glossy lips, the way your jewelry caught the low lights. You looked like a doll, and you were practically glowing, but the moment his sharp eyes landed on you, all he felt was irritation.

Of course, you had gotten carried away.

You didn't even notice him at first, too busy swaying to the music, but the second a warm, familiar hand touched the small of your back, you gasped. You turned, blinking up at him with wide, glassy eyes, a smile spreading across your face.

"Kento!" you chirped, stumbling a little as you reached for him. "You came!"

Nanami exhaled through his nose, steadying you with one firm hand. "Of course I did," he said, his voice even. "You stopped answering your phone."

"I did?" You frowned, pulling out your phone and squinting at the screen like the little device had betrayed you. "Oops..."

Nanami only shook his head. "We're going home."

You pouted, clinging to his arm. "But I was having fun."

"I can see that," he murmured, his eyes flicking down to the way your dress had ridden up from all your dancing. His jaw clenched.

"Come on, sweetheart. We're leaving."

The ride home was quiet.

You sat in the passenger seat, still tipsy, playing with the hem of your dress, stealing little glances at Nanami He was gripping the wheel tightly, his jaws is expression unreadable.

You knew that look.

He wasn't angry-not really-but he wasn't happy either.

When you pulled into the driveway and he helped you out of the car, his hands steady on your waist, you leaned into him with a dramatic sigh.

"Kento," you whined, tilting your head up to look at him. "Are you mad at me?"

His golden-brown eyes flickered down to you, his fingers tightening slightly around your waist. "No," he said, calm as ever.

You let out another little whimper, pressing against his chest. "I just wanted to have fun," you mumbled. "Now l wanna feel good..."

You curled your fingers into his shirt, tilting your face up for a kiss, but he only exhaled sharply through his nose.

"No."

Your brows furrowed, and you let out a small, needy sound as he pulled you inside, guiding you toward the bedroom.

You thought he was going to give in, but instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled you onto his lap-his thigh, to be exact.

You blinked, confused for a moment. "Kento?"

"If you're so desperate," he murmured, his hands resting heavily on your waist, "you can help yourself."

Your face burned as you realized what he meant. Your thighs squeezed together on instinct, your hands resting on his broad shoulders,

"That's mean," you whispered, trying to shift in his lap, but his grip tightened.

"You were being a brat tonight," he said, his voice low and unwavering.

Your breath hitched.

He was warm beneath you, his thigh firm and unyielding as he kept you still. You squirmed, just a little, testing him, but his fingers dug into your waist, keeping you in place.

"Go on," he murmured, voice deep and smooth. "Show me how bad you want it."

Your lips parted slightly, embarrassment and arousal mixing in your chest, but you listened.

You shifted against his thigh, feeling the friction immediately, and let out a soft, desperate little whimper.

Nanami exhaled through his nose, watching you with sharp, dark eyes.

You whined again, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, but you didn't stop moving. His thigh was so firm beneath you.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, your breaths coming out in short, needy little gasps.

Nanami hummed, pressing a slow kiss to your temple.

Your body was trembling-hot, desperate, on the edge-but Nanami still wouldn't budge.

His hands stayed firm on your hips, guiding you over his thigh, keeping the movements slow, controlled, not enough.

You were falling apart, your whimpers turning into soft little sobs as you rocked against the hard muscle, your slick staining his slacks, making a mess of him-but he didn't seem to care.

"You're crying again," he murmured, voice smooth, unaffected. His eyes moved down to where your hips stuttered against his leg. "Pathetic."

You were pathetic, and you didn't care.

You sniffled, rubbing your teary cheek against his chest, trying again to grind harder, to chase the relief you needed, but his grip tightened, forcing you back into that slow, agonizing pace.

"K-Kento," you gasped, nails digging into his arms.

"Shh," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You can finish, sweetheart-but only if you do it my way."

You let out a broken little whimper, nodding frantically, your body twitching against him. "I-I will," you hiccupped, pressing your face against his shoulder. "Please, I-I c-can't-"

Nanami hummed, finally letting you move again-but not how you wanted.

He controlled it-pressing your hips down harder against his thigh, making you grind exactly how he wanted, dragging you over the fabric just right, making the friction sharper, deeper, more.

You sobbed, your fingers curling into his shirt, your thighs squeezing around him as the pleasure hit, sharp and overwhelming, making your whole body tremble as you came with a choked little gasp.

Nanami exhaled slowly, watching you shake in his lap, his grip loosening just slightly, smoothing over your soft, overheated skin.

"There you go," he murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. "That's my girl."

You hiccupped, still trembling, still trying to catch your breath as he rubbed slow circles into your back, grounding you, keeping you close.

"Messy little thing," he sighed, his voice softer now, amused.

You sniffled, pressing a weak little kiss to his jaw, blinking up at him with glossy, exhausted eyes.

"Still mean," you mumbled, breathless.

Nanami sighed, brushing your hair back from your sticky, flushed skin. "You're exhausting."

But he was soft with you now, gentle-pulling you close, letting you curl against him, keeping his big hands warm and steady on your body, even though you'd ruined his pants, even though you'd whined and begged like a spoiled little brat.

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

Jason Todd x gn mean!reader

I love you mean!reader take jason by the balls like he deserves

(Short, fluff, established relationship)

Swearing, no use of y/n

———

“Shit.” The knife slips off the onion yet again and Jason feels like driving it into the countertop. Instead, he takes another go at the onion and almost nicks his finger.

He throws the knife onto the cutting board with a clatter. This is so fucking stupid. Jason is exhausted and starving and at his wit’s end. All he wants is to make himself some pasta, why can’t he cut this goddamn onion?

It isn’t helping that he came home pissed to begin with. The night was a complete waste of his time. He’s spent weeks sniffing around for one of Bane’s weapons shipments and finally tracked it down to a warehouse on the south side. Jason had got himself all gussied up to go in guns blazing, but he kicked in the door of an empty warehouse. They had already cleared the fuck out, they were one step ahead of him. It was so goddamn embarrassing, all he could do was shuffle home in the rain and try not to picture how Bane was probably laughing at him.

And now even this onion is getting the best of him. Can’t Jason have anything?

He perks up as he hears the clank of your key in the lock. You’re home, thank god. He abandons the onion and goes to meet you at the door.

“Hey, babe.” Your cheeks are pink from the cold. Jason ignores your words and pulls you into his arms, jamming his face into your neck. Your hand comes up to card through his hair. “Huh. Rough night?”

He grunts, and you huff out a laugh. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It was so fucking stupid,” he mutters. “How was your work dinner?”

“Fine. Nothing to report. Drinks went on forever.” You slide your fingers under his shirt and pinch at his waist. “You eat yet?”

“Hm.” He bites lightly at your neck. You tug sharply at his hair. “C’mon, Jay, you have to eat.” You gently shove him aside so you can slip out of your coat and slip off your shoes.

“‘M trying to,” he sulks.

You raise your eyebrows. “Well, what does that mean?”

He sighs, gesturing toward the kitchen, and you go investigate. “Couldn’t cut the fucking onion,” he grumbles. It’s so annoying; normally he’s not a complete idiot in the kitchen, but tonight his skills are failing him.

“Ah,” you say as you approach the cutting board. “Well, unfortunately, you’ve done it wrong.” You take his place at the countertop. Grabbing the knife, you hold it to the onion but then stop, turning to squint at him. “You want me to do it?”

Jason looks at you blankly. You nod. “You want me to show you how to do it or just do it?”

He smiles ruefully. “Good.” You start slicing. “Didn’t want to teach you anything, anyway.”

Jason sighs contentedly, putting his arms around your waist and leaning into your back. Your work steadily for a few minutes, before nudging him with your shoulder. “What were you going to put in the sauce?”

“Garlic,” Jason shrugs. “Onion.”

“Hm. It would be better with cherry tomatoes. And white wine.”

“Mm.”

“Go get the tomatoes. And the wine from the fridge,” you order. Jason blows meaningfully at your neck. “Please,” you add.

Jason knocks his head lightly against yours, then goes to get the requested ingredients. Soon, you’re frying up the onions, garlic, and tomatoes, pouring in some white wine, and setting some water to boil. Jason half-heartedly offers to help, but you take one look at him and wave him off. Fifteen minutes later you’re handing him a fork and sliding a bowl of pasta his way.

He digs in hastily. “Thanks, babe.”

You smile in satisfaction, stealing his fork to take a bite. “Hm. Pretty good.”

Jason wolfs it down before getting up for seconds. He grins at you, and you smile softly back. “Fuckin’ delicious.”

“Damn right. I’m gonna shower.” You move toward the bedroom, pulling your shirt over head. Jason gets momentarily distracted by your bare skin.

“Tsk.” He glances at your face, you’re smirking at him. “Eyes up here, big guy.”

“Can’t blame me for lookin’, sweetheart.” Jason smiles cockily at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Finish your dinner.” You turn back to the bathroom.

He picks up his fork. “I’m cleaning up,” he offers.

“You bet you are.” Jason grins cheekily, and you disappear into the bathroom.

———

He needs to be bullied.

[american-horror-whore]

unenlightened. — kai anderson

paring. cult leader!kai anderson x sacrificial lamb!fem reader

a/n. been a while since i put something out 🖤

warnings. nsfw. smut. dub con. corruption kink. unprotected p in v. creampie if you squint. mentions of potential pregnancy. wc.1.3k

“You’re nothing. You’re pathetic. You have no meaning outside of being a symbol of purity…” Kai said in a gruff whispered, his morbidly dark eyes boring into you. You looked down, seeing the state of yourself. You didn’t know what to think. A thin, white nightgown covered your body, which was considered sacred, fragile. You were laid out on the bed, Kai standing beside you. 

He reached into his nightstand, a decently sized grey pocket knife coming into view. He flicked the blade open, the sharp tip going right under your chin.

“But you will be…the greatest sacrifice…” Kai continued, flipping the knife so he could trail the spine down your neck, stopping at your stomach. “For the greater good of those men…and our child,” 

The moment those words left Kai’s lips, you tensed. You knew the possibility of a child was a possibility that had been dangling over your head for months. You were his lamb, after all. The symbol of temptation to the men of this cult after Kai had forced them into celibacy. A pure virgin that no one was allowed to touch except for Kai. And now, the vessel for his almighty child. 

There was something so horrifyingly comforting about this situation. The way that Kai made you believe that submitting your body to him would somehow increase your value in his twisted mind. That being the bearer of his child would make your life any more significant to him after that child was born. That you’d somehow make Kai, who’s never felt even the most minuscule spark of human emotion since you’ve been in this cult, want to protect you more than anyone else who followed him. 

“To everyone else, you’re nothing..but in your leader’s eyes is where you find your true purpose…The mother of the blessed child..” He continued, rambling out sentences of false admiration that you didn’t even realize were a lie. You just saw him, not any of the bullshit he preached. His eyes, you thought. They had no soul. You couldn’t see any sense of humanity, not even a shred of concern. But that’s how Kai always was, so it was normal to never see those normal reactions.

“This will be a spiritual experience for you. You’ll finally learn…what true enlightenment feels like..” Kai whispered, lifting his shirt. The fabric dragged across his torso, exposing more of his flesh bit by bit. You tried to move your legs a bit, a knot of anxiety building in your stomach. You’d never had sex before, let alone had a man cum inside of you. You were scared, if you were being honest.

You watched as Kai removed his jeans next, his belt sliding off the denim and into his hands. He snapped the leather, his eyes boring into you, hoping for a reaction. You flinched as he snapped the belt down on one side of your legs, making you flinch again. He tossed the belt down onto the floor, your head spinning as the realization this was actually happening, sank in. 

Kai’s hands rested on your thighs, spreading them apart. Reluctantly, your muscles agreed, your legs moving further to create room for him. He pushed your nightgown up to your hips, the rough callouses on his palms mingling with the smoothness of your skin. His fingers made their way up to your already aching cunt. Kai’s fingers dug roughly between your lips, spreading them roughy apart before spitting into your pussy.

You let out a small shriek, your legs twitching. Kai’s fingers immediately slammed themselves down onto your pussy. He rubbed back and forth aggressively, his spit mingling with your arousal. He watches your chest heave, those small sounds of pleasure combined with a hint of discomfort. Your fingers gripped the sheets roughly, watching with a sense of nervousness as Kai tugged his jeans and boxers off. He climbed over you with a small breath.

“Shh..” Kai murmured, his blue hair hanging down around his face. His eyes were manic, as they always were, but there was a clear sense of stoicism, as if he was putting up a front. Not to impress you, but as a way to uphold the standards of composure he’d laid out for himself. 

One of Kai’s large hands found its way to your neck. His fingers wrapped gently around your throat, gradually applying more pressure. You let out a soft, strangled gasp that was caught in your throat. Your hand came up to claw at his wrist, but you realized you were overpowered the moment you noticed the size difference. 

A strange feeling of pleasure was building inside your stomach. Feeling Kai over you, to feel that sense of submission and to feel overpowered made you more comforted than nervous. That feeling, though, was quickly and rudely interrupted by a feeling of fullness. That was the moment you realized that Kai had already started fucking you.

“Agh-“ You whimpered out, your head lolling back further into the pillows. Kai shushed you, bringing his hips forward roughly. His cock nuzzled itself further into you, deeper and deeper with each thrust. Kai’s lips met the warm, soft flesh of your neck, sucking gently. Well, gently compared to everything else he’d been doing.

“Look at you..” Kai panted gruffly, thrusting deeper. His hands drifted down to run gently over your body. You squirmed, your hips bucking upwards. Your hands drew to his back, clawing at his otherwise unmarked back. A hiss escaped from his lips as they were still buried in your neck, his thrusts more unstable and fast paced as he began to reach his climax.

“Pathetic,” Kai scoffed through panting breaths. His hand made its way to your jaw, gripping tightly as his fingers dug into the bone below the flesh. You felt that if he tried hard enough, he could snap it off. Your mouth hung open and your eyes rolled back. You took sharp, shaky breaths, your chest heaving with a lack of air.

“i’m corrupted!-“ You sob out, your cries loud and painful. Oh, the tears were an act, and you knew it well. You knew that Kai loved to see whoever it was that he was in control of, very upset. And you knew that tears would be a perfect way to get him going.

He shushed you, brushing hair from your tear stained face. “Yes, lamb,” Kai murmured, his sentence punctuated by a thrust. “You’re weak- fuck-.. You’re corrupted. And you’re gonna have my fucking Messiah baby, huh?”

“Yes-“ You sob, inhaling sharply once more.

“Yeah,” He repeated back, his face going back down to your neck once more, kissing along your neck and collarbones. You looked down at the top of his head, those alligator tears still flooding your eyes. Kai’s thrusts got increasingly faster and you knew he would finish soon. You just didn’t know you’d be able to feel it like you did.

Immediately once Kai finished, he let out a moan. A gruff, ragged moan, possibly more of a grunt, you couldn’t tell. 

You practically felt him filling you up, and you knew there was no chance that you’d come out of this not pregnant. He didn’t even get you to finish. He pulled back, looking down at his cock, still coming out of your aching, broken sex. Strings of Kai’s warm, sticky cum connected you and him, the barrier breaking as he continued to pull back slowly. Your head fell back onto the pillows, air filling your lungs and you took a breath and closed your eyes. 

Kai looked down at your body, your cunt in specific. He watched his deliverance leak from you, taking two fingers and sliding them between your lips. Your legs twitched, a small tired whimper escaping your mouth. He held his fingers up to show you what exactly was leaking out of you at this moment. His lips pressed against your ear, his voice soft and sickly sweet.

“Better start making bigger meals. You’ll be eating for two.”

© american-horror-whore 2025. All rights reserved. Do not copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

tags @fear-is-truth @newwavesylviaplath @lacucarachapisser @evansonlylove @dearlizzies @oceanblvd111 @foreverviolets @xrag-dollx @taintandviolent @colinzabelswife @marchsfreakshow @evanpeterspeter @redroses07 @lostreverb @partypoisxn @evanpetersbf @jdnymos @starsturni

[dae-hos-wife]

would you mind elaborating on dae-ho’s breeding kink….. thank you for your service 🙏🙏 if youre able… gnc or gn reader for it 👀… dae-ho driven to breed them even tho they arent female identifying. your fics got me back into x readers 😭

-Make You Mine.-

Kang Dae-Ho x AnyPov!Reader.

[reader is seemed to have male reproductive system. :3]

(req 1/6 :P)

(gn reader !!)

(Warnings: SoftDom!/Rough!Dom Dae-Ho, breeding kink, unprotected sex, slight jealousy if you squint.)

A/N- Ofc! I love this man sm- he'd definitely have a breeding kink js look at himmmm T-T (also ty for the request !! Sorry if it's too OOC-)

[cut off here :3]

Dae Ho loved you. He loved the way you look, the way you talk, the way you walked. The way you even breathed made his heart race in his chest like a teenage school girl in love with.

But, after he met your family something, was added to the mix. See, you had multiple siblings. 4 to be exact. One was.. basically a baby, which your mother had obviously recently had.

Once he saw you cooing and giggling with the baby he stared at you in awe, a feeling of adoration fueled dizziness washing over him, does...he want kids?

No. No he can't have kids, he's..too young..but God..the way you look when you play with your little brother. As if your the happiest you've ever been..he couldn't help but imagine you playing with a mini mix of you and him, running around the house playing a game of tag or something.

"what's wrong?" Your mum patted Dae Ho on the back softly and he tensed up before relaxing his muscles, realising she's not a threat.

"they're..really good with kids.." he mumbles, half under his breath, half at your mother. Smiling to himself but a red tint dyed his face.

"...heh- they sure are. Y/N helps a lot with little Jun-San here, he's only a baby so he needs lots of attention." She says back, smiling as well, obviously proud of how she raised you.

Dae Ho blushed again, and looks at you again, now playing with some Hot Wheels car as Matthew giggled at the little voices you gave for the cars.

He slowly makes his way over to you and plops himself behind you, cross legged as he lays his head on your chest.

"...can we go somewhere..I need to.. ask you something." He mutters in your ear, his warm breath hitting your ear, making you shiver slightly.

"uhm..yeah, yeah of course." You say as a hurried reply before waving a quick goodbye to Matthew and giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"I'll be right back, okay hon-?" You grin at the infant and it giggles back, doing grabbie arms at your mum and she rolls her eyes playfully as she raises him up in the air.

Dae Ho gently takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom upstairs, where he knows people can't hear anything inside.

"..s-so... uh..I saw you with Matthew..uh! Adorable kid- b-by the way!-" he stutters out nervously and goes slightly red, before blurting out as fast as he could suddenly.

"iwaswonderingifyouwanttohaveakid-!!" He basically stutters out plain gibberish and he can tell he has as your expression shows nothing but confusion.

"..what..? Dae..can you go a bit..slower?"

He breathes in softly and breathes out.

"o-okay, so...feel free to say no! But- uh..do you, perhaps want...kids-like..kids kids...like uh.." he mumbles, fidgeting with his fingers and shirt nervously, a nervous tic he has whenever hes scared/ anxious about an outcome.

"oh..! Uh..well- it's kinda a..hard decision and—" you start but he cuts you off needily.

"p-please..i-i don't care if you can't, have them..i-i can try my best..y-you don't know if my cums different-" he whimpers out desperately, wanting to breed you so, so badly. Fuck, he was willing to do anything...

"..i-..Dae...I mean..you can try—" you start to chuckle softly but you get cut off by Dae Ho picking you up and chucking you on the counter and kissing you.

This wasnt his, 'normal' kisses, this was rough, searing. You whimper into the kiss which makes him groan softly.

"b-baby-.." he whispers, pulling away from the kiss reluctantly, a line of saliva connecting your tongues. He presses his bulge against yours and he starts grinding against it slightly.

"..ha-haah.." you moan gently and dig your nose into the crook of his neck and nuzzle it hard, whining like a dog that's just been denied a treat.

"shh..shh baby- don't worry.. I'll- ngh..look after you-" he whispers, trying to keep his own moans in, but they come out as choked, soft sounds of pleasure.

He tugs slightly on your shirt and lifts it over your head, revealing your chest, he whimpers as he begins basically worshipping it with his teeth and tongue, biting gently and licking anywhere he could possibly leave a mark.

"s-sweetheart- lemme-lemme fuck you..breed..you..please-" he whispers against your chest and digs his face into it.

"o-okay- ill- should i-"

"s-say you consent..please—" he whines out softly, God he's so cute..

"i-i consent.." you whisper back and almost immediately you feel your pants get pulled off, he grabs you and pulls you on the floor.

"G-get on top of me—r-ride me—" he says, trying his best not to just grab your hips and rut into you like a man possessed.

You nod softly and quickly straddle the desperate man, and begin to take off his pants too, only a pair of sweatpants, pronouncing his already twitching cock.

He whimpers needily and shivers as you outline the pulsing bulge in his boxers.

"d-darling...d-dont tease.." he whispers and moans softly, almost desperately as he softly humps into your hand, whimpering like a puppy in heat.

You suddenly pull down his boxers and let his ever hardening cock slap against his stomach, drooling precum down it's already soaking shaft.

"aw...you must've been desperate huh?" You coo softly and spit onto your hand, beginning to stroke his cock softly, pumping it slow at first, making him let out soft mewls and curses under his breath as he fucks himself with your hand.

"baby—" he whines softly and tilts his head back, quivering harder as you begin to get faster with your strokes, making it wet and ready for it to just, slip in without any restraint.

"jus' lemme...fu-fuck you...please.." he whispers gently and shivers.

You nod and let go of his leaking cock, as he whimpers in protest, but instead of letting him get used to the feeling of nothing wrapped around him, you begin to lower yourself down on his length.

".. h-hng-..." You feel him start to press into you, and you shiver as he starts to rock his hips up into your soft, tender bounces.

Loud moans and slaps of skin on skin fill the air for a while until you hear gentle desperate words.

"i-i wanna—breed- you— so bad— let me- c-cum inside you..."

He mumbles needily, his thrusts up getting more erratic as time goes on.

"please—im-im gonna cum- please..i-i wanna breed you—breed...my- my beautiful partner...mh-mine— y-your mine—" he slightly growls into your neck and you feel him tense up and dig his nails into your shoulders.

"C-cumming- cumming...i-in...haah...good...hng..." He says, his voice completely stripped of any past dominance.

"..d-dae ho..." You whisper softly, your voice hoarse from the intense ectasy crashing over you like a tidal wave, your orgasm melting through you.

"..i-i love you.." he mumbles and nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

"love you..too.." you mutter back, panting from the strain.

[p0orbaby]

Like can we pls pls pls pls pls get a smut where Reader sees alexias new photos for nike (though she had shown to reader some they did had the edit the impact you know) reader getting all hot and bothered and jumps on alexia qhen she gets home like do it everything with me

it’s not smut because i’ve got to save some material for bitter sweet

shameless plug

-

The day is, for the most part, unremarkable.

You wake up at 07:26, which is two minutes before your alarm, which is irritating because you could have had those two minutes. You stare at the ceiling for a moment, assessing your bodily functions—slight stiffness in your neck from the way you slept, residual warmth from the duvet, a faint need to pee but not urgent enough to act on. Alexia is still asleep next to you, her breathing slow and deep. There’s a dent in the pillow from where she’s been lying, a strand of hair curling across her cheek. You could stay here, watch her, but then your alarm does go off, and reality intrudes.

You shower, make coffee, scroll absentmindedly through your phone, thumb moving in automatic, practised motions. You see the photos at exactly 08:02.

And that’s when everything changes.

At first, your brain doesn’t fully register what you’re looking at. There’s a moment of lag, like a buffering screen, a stutter in your synapses. Then the full weight of it hits, and it’s like being smacked in the face with a sledgehammer. A very attractive, well-lit sledgehammer.

It’s Alexia. Obviously, it’s Alexia. But it’s Nike Alexia.

Sweaty. Flexing. Half-naked.

Her abs look like they’ve been sculpted by the gods. Her arms—veins subtly pronounced, muscles taut, defined—are a work of art. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on her skin, catching the light in a way that feels almost… obscene. Her gaze is focused, intense, fixed down the lense, like she’s contemplating the meaning of life but also potentially about to fight someone.

You stare. Then you blink. Then you stare again.

Something warm pools low in your stomach, and your grip on your phone tightens. You have seen Alexia naked. Repeatedly. You live together. You have firsthand knowledge—intimate, detailed knowledge—of every inch of her body. And yet, somehow, these photos manage to feel like a personal attack.

Your first thought is: How dare she?

Your second thought is: I need to sit down.

Which you do, heavily, onto one of the kitchen stools. Your coffee is abandoned, cooling rapidly. The world outside continues as normal—birds chirping, distant traffic noise, the faint hum of the fridge—but your internal landscape has been irrevocably altered.

You should say something. React. But words fail you, so instead, you just keep staring, swiping through the photos in what can only be described as a state of near-religious awe. You don’t even realise you’re making a noise—somewhere between a sigh and a groan—until you hear movement behind you.

Then, her voice, still thick with sleep.

“What are you looking at?”

Your soul leaves your body.

You exit out of the app too quickly, fumbling with your phone like a guilty teenager caught watching something they shouldn’t be. Which is ridiculous. You are an adult. You are in a committed relationship with this woman. There is no reason for you to be acting like this.

And yet.

“Nothing,” you say, entirely unconvincing.

Alexia pads barefoot into the kitchen, wearing one of your T-shirts, her hair slightly messy. She yawns, stretching, and your eyes immediately zero in on the movement, the flex of muscle beneath skin. It is unfair that she looks this good first thing in the morning. Unethical, even.

She squints at you, then at your phone. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve seen God.”

You take a slow, steadying breath.

“Not God,” you say. “Just Nike’s new campaign.”

She blinks. Then, the smirk starts, slow and knowing. “Ah.”

“Don’t ah me,” you say, pointing accusingly. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” She moves to the fridge, retrieving the orange juice. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You posed.”

She laughs, pouring herself a glass. “I did.”

“You flexed.”

“I did.”

“You—” You gesture vaguely, helplessly. “You glistened.”

She tilts her head, amused. “That’s usually what happens when you’re sweating.”

“I don’t sweat like that,” you say, almost mournful. “I sweat like a normal person. You sweat like—like—” You pause, struggling to find the words. “Like a Nike advert.”

Alexia sips her juice, looking infuriatingly pleased with herself. “That’s convenient.”

You exhale sharply, dropping your head onto the counter. “I need help.”

“Probably.”

Silence stretches. You can feel her eyes on you, can hear the faint clink of her glass as she sets it down. Then, her voice, softer now, but with an unmistakable thread of amusement.

“Do you want me to sign one for you?”

Your head snaps up. “What?”

She gestures toward your phone. “A print. I can sign it for you. Make it personal.”

You gape at her, scandalised. “Do I look like the kind of person who would have a signed picture of their girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You have my old Barça jersey framed.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It’s—” You flounder. “It’s memorabilia. Historic.”

She raises an eyebrow. “So these pictures aren’t historic?”

“Not unless I drop dead from looking at them,” you mutter.

Alexia grins. “Want me to flex for you right now?”

You make a noise that is neither dignified nor human.

Alexia laughs. It’s light, teasing, but there’s something else behind it, something knowing. She closes the small distance between you, leans in, voice low.

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not,” you lie.

Her hand brushes your arm, slow, deliberate. “You are.”

You swallow. Your mouth is dry. Your heart rate is—scientifically speaking—fucked.

This is fine. This is manageable.

Then, she actually flexes.

And you black out.

Metaphorically.

Mostly.

[residentrookie]

omg could u maybe do 85 or 86 for jegulus.....

ur wish is my command mil. here’s prompt 85. i’ll walk you home :)) 715 words!

regulus waits for his one night stand to fall asleep before ducking out from underneath the heavy weight of his arm and beginning a truly undignified search for his underwear in the dark.

he’s hyper aware of how much noise he’s making- the creaking floorboards at his every step, each hissed cursed as he trips over something in the blackness, even the sound of his own heavy breathing. he’s trying to make a quick and clean exit. or what some would call: sneaking out in the dead of night to avoid further interactions with the man he just had sex with.

he’s not leaving under the cover of night because the sex was bad. the sex was good, actually. really fucking good. so good his legs feel a little shaky walking around, reminding him he needs to do more squats if he wants to match the stamina of the next guy he hooks up with.

no, he’s leaving because he’s regulus black and this is what he does whenever he finds it in himself to go on a date with a rich stranger, follow back them to their million dollar apartment, moan obscenities into their mouth for two hours, and then come onto their 1,000 thread count sheets. it’s his MO, the bread and butter of his approach to intimacy and dating.

also he has to shit and he’ll be damned before he does that at a random fucking man’s apartment.

he’s just about gathered his scattered belongings together, slipping his arms through the holes of his shirt when he’s suddenly doused in a painfully bright fluorescent light, making him screech like a bat who’s just been blinded by the flashlight of some rude fucking cave tourists.

he spins around, arms uselessly caught in the fabric of his cotton shirt, and finds the man sitting up in bed, a remote for the big light in the center of the ceiling held in one hand.

“you’re leaving?” he asks calmly.

regulus squints and looks down a his disheveled self, pants still unbuttoned, house keys firmly in hand. “i would say no but i feel like it’s pretty obvious that i am.”

“oh okay,” the stranger says like this makes perfect sense. “okay, cool.” he rises as well, not exactly showing off his disgustingly toned body but also not bothering to hide it either. it would be impossible to hide under lights of this caliber. regulus thinks they’re bright enough to lead a ship to safe harbor in a storm.

“what- what are you doing?” he asks dumbly when the man starts shrugging into his clothes.

he turns around with a sleepy smile. “i’ll walk you home.” he says simply.

like it’s a normal thing to tell someone who was actively sneaking out of your house a minute ago and never planned on speaking to you again.

“walk me—?” regulus pauses to adjust his clothing impatiently. “what do you mean ‘walk me home’?”

the man shrugs good-naturedly. “what i said.”

“it’s 3:32 in the morning,” regulus points out.

“all the more reason you shouldn’t be going by yourself.”

“i’m a little flattered you think i live in walking distance of this fancy ass neighborhood.”

on the contrary, regulus was about to catch a very long train ride and probably call barty on the way home to make himself look busy and therefore un-robbable.

the man shrugs again. “it’s a nice night.”

he has no way of knowing this, of course, since he was asleep as of a few minutes ago, but makes the statement with complete confidence. regulus thinks it could have been pouring outside and the man would have said the exact same thing. the thought makes him feel guilty for his attempted escape, as it should.

“morning,” regulus corrects like the most annoying person ever.

weirdly, the man finds this funny. his laugh could easily be confused with anything sweet and languid, like honey or dew coating a grassy field at dawn.

“do you have everything you need?” he asks regulus who nods stupidly, at a total loss for words.

“alright. let’s go then.” he moves to pass through the door, but regulus catches his arm, stopping him, forcing himself to look into those kind dark eyes, resisting the urge to smooth the wild black hair sticking up in every direction.

“james,” regulus says softly, because he knows the man’s name, of course, but didnt want to keep it in mind and grow attached to the person it belongs to. “you really don’t have to.”

but maybe… well maybe things could be different this time around. maybe he could allow himself to bend his own rules. if he couldn’t let himself stay, perhaps he could at least let james leave with him.

“i want to,” james smiles, lips tinged with something more than a little sinful. “besides i owe this much to the guy who just gave me the best sex of my life.”

[starfishir]

Imagine if dress up!Kinito had an option to access your browsing data to analyse and create his own custom graphic shirts based on your browser history or feed

I think it would have a lot of potential :D

.. dress up!Jade was always in charge of the Bubble Boutique for a reason…

At least he is more skilled in photography

[alexiroflife]

"babysitting"

fluff, crack

Synopsis: that time you were babysitting your niece when sukuna came home...

to sum it up: sukuna is such a dad but doesn't know it yet

WC: 1,218

Warning(s): none

“What the fuck is that?”

You look up to see Sukuna standing in the doorway, a twisted snarl on his face as he glares harshly at the object within your grasp. You raise your brows, momentarily surprised by his arrival, and give him a soft smile. 

“Hi, Kuna,” you greet happily, ignoring his question. “I didn’t know you were gonna be back so soon.”

“Answer my question, woman,” he growls, looking almost disgusted by the sight before him. “What is that?”

He points one of his burly arms to you, and you look down at the cooing seven-month-old in your embrace, bouncing up on your knee as you sit on the floor just before Sukuna’s large bed. The baby gargles, hand stuffed into her mouth as drool dribbles down her fist, a thoughtless smile rising onto her small lips.

“She’s my niece,” you tell him, smoothing your thumb lovingly over the baby’s shirt, inspiring a small giggle and a senseless babble. You smile. “Isn’t she so cute?”

“It’s vile,” Sukuna grimaces and you frown. “Why is that beast in my temple?”

“Sukuna, be nice,” you roll your eyes. “She’s just a baby, and my sister needed some help looking after her for a few hours.”

“And you felt prompted to bring it here?”  he scrunches his nose. 

“Her, and where else would I be?” 

“As long as you’re carrying that creature, you must be anywhere else but here,” he grumbles, turning dismissively to leave the room. “I want it gone.”

“What?!” you exclaim, moving to stand with the baby resting on your hip. You walk over to your boyfriend, touching your soft hand to his large back to keep him from leaving. Sukuna peers over his shoulder angrily, four eyes squinting down at the two of you. “Come on, Sukuna! At least admit how adorable she is. Look at this precious little face.”

You squish gently at the baby’s cheeks and her fist falls from her mouth, big round eyes scrunching as a giddy beam rises to her rosy cheeks. All Sukuna can see, however, is the slobber shining over her chin and on her hand. “I do not understand what you are requesting of me,” he says coldly, eying the child as though she carries the plague. “Is it incapable of keeping its saliva inside of its mouth?”

“She’s teething,” you say flatly.

“What?”

“Her teeth are coming in soon, it stimulates drooling.”

Sukuna’s face of disgust grows more exaggerated, leaning his head back with curled lips. “Like an animal?”

Your face drops as you stare at him boredly. “Yes, Sukuna. Like an animal. All humans did it at one point.”

“Do you mean to inform me that you engaged in such a disgusting act when you were in this stage of life?”

“...Yes?”

He clicks his tongue, now eying you with an air of suspicion. “Good to know,” he says rather judgmentally.

The thought crosses your mind to point at that your boyfriend was at some point a human too, but you decide against it.

“Sukuna,” you groan. “Aside from the drool, she’s such a precious little thing. You have to agree, right?” you coo. You look down at the baby to grin childishly at her, tucking your finger under her chin and tapping her slightly, hardly tickling at her body but arising a few more giggles nonetheless. You babble meaningless sounds, speaking to her in a playful voice that Sukuna has never heard from you before.

Though still thoroughly confounded as to why you want him to take interest in this little animal, his eyes catch the way you soften for the child, how your eyes light and a sense of maternity takes you as you speak to the baby as though you know just what to say, drawing out toothless grins and thrilled gibberish. His brow twitches involuntarily, something within him almost enjoying the sight before him. You’re so good with this creature. Have you always been like this?

“What language are you speaking with it?” he suddenly asks gruffly, causing you to pause and look up at him as your niece reaches her small hands up to your cheek. 

“With her,” you correct again. “And I’m not speaking any language, I’m just playing around,” you chuckle slightly. Sukuna stares harshly now, examining the movements of the half developed human in your arms as she curiously taps against your face.

Suddenly catching wind of his presence, the baby’s head turns to him and her eyes grow bigger. She cries out excitedly, reaching her arms out to Sukuna with grasping tiny fingers. Sukuna falters, confused.

“What is she doing?” he asks urgently, and you laugh.

“She wants you to hold her,” you say softly.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Kuna,” you pout. “Please? Just for two seconds.”

“I said no, you brat.”

“Pleaseeeee? Pretty pretty please, my king?”

You give him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster, and when he looks between the two of you, your expressions almost match. Sukuna feels something in his resolve crumble, incapable of truly denying you though he tries his best to still appear as though you give him a hard time. 

With an agitated sigh, he reaches his upper set of arms to grab the child as you lift her up and hand her to him. “Two seconds,” he growls and your eyes sparkle with anticipation.

He holds the baby up before him, watching as her little feet dangle and kick around in her onesie as he grasps her from under her arms. His hands practically consume her entire frame, her fingers still reaching out to him curiously, joyfully.

The king of curses continues to glare, brow cocked while he tries to decide what is so special about it. Perhaps he can understand what you find to be “cute.” The baby’s got big chubby cheeks and huge doe eyes that almost remind him of you, and she’s so comically tiny it makes him want to laugh. 

He grunts softly as he pulls the baby in closer, complying with her unspoken request displayed by her constant reaching. She touches her little slobber-less hand on his forehead, touching softly at the plate structure on the right side of his face. Sukuna imagined himself to be a bit more perturbed by the contact, but finds himself unbothered, allowing the child to trace his features with innocent exploration.

You watch with your hands to your mouth, hiding your bright smile. The sight before you is just so adorable, you wish you could take a picture but you know that Sukuna would be quick to crush your phone in an instant if he caught you.

Sukuna finally pulls the child away, watching her grin happily. He hands her back to you and crosses his arms. “What is her purpose?” he questions, and you give him a strange look, adjusting the baby back on your hip as she plays with your hair. 

“She has no purpose. She’s a baby.”

“She is too young to work? To serve?”

“Wh- yes?!”

“Very well,” he nods. “She may stay for another hour.”

“...But my sister isn’t free for another two hours.”

“Two hours, and if she isn’t gone by then, tell her in her native tongue that I will be eating her fingers for dinner.”

[hoonjayke]

Yang Jungwon — TRULY MADLY DEEPLY

You are a free spirit, untamed and adventurous. Jungwon is methodical, disciplined and completely predictable. Complete opposites, an unlikely match, Jungwon did not expect his existence would fascinate you, the troublemaker of his course.

PAIRING: — Good boy Jungwon x Bad Girl / Troublemaker Reader (f)

GENRE: fluff, super suggestive, smutyish (kinda), college au, good boy × bad girl trope (we love), strangers to friends to lovers.

WARNINGS: heavy making out, double meaning jokes, mentions of alcohol, skinship, reader falls first Jungwon falls harder, very suggestive in the end but overall fluff.

WC: 10.8k — masterlist - perm taglist

— Author Note: Since I had this idea with Jungwon I couldn't help but write for the last 3 days, he's been wrecking me so bad lately lol. It's my first work with Jungwon and it's a bit longer than my other works, but it's totally worth it. Also, I've been thinking of making a tag list for future works, if you want to be added please comment below. Hope you guys like it, If there are any errors please lmk.

The loud music in the house made Jungwon's eardrums tremble, the number of people increasing by the minute seemed to be slightly suffocating and the drink in his glass was already running low. Jungwon didn't have the habit of going to many parties, he was a little more reserved and liked to be that way. However, he made a few exceptions when Jay invited him saying that it would be legendary.

This time was no different, another party at Jake's house that Jay insisted would be legendary and Jungwon should go to meet more people. Not that Jungwon didn't have many friends, but Jay was way more sociable than him, so he always had someone new to introduce.

As he watched Ni-ki do a funny dance in the middle of the living room, he sat down on the couch that was miraculously free and picked up his phone. He had barely been there for an hour and was already wondering if he should have come.

“I can’t believe you’re already on your phone.” Jungwon looked at Jay, who was in front of him with a look of disbelief. “I’m enjoying the party,” Jungwon replied, “admiring Ni-ki’s beautiful moves.” His tone was laced with sarcasm.

“Man, you need to socialize more like actually talking to people.” Jay sat down next to him sighing “I’ve already met a lot of people thanks to you, thank you very much.” Jungwon saw how the room seemed even more crowded than it had been a few minutes ago.

“You’re impossible,” Jay shook his head negatively, “but at least try to enjoy the food and drinks, Jake chose the best ones.” Jungwon nodded and looked at his own glass, seeing that he would need to refill it soon. “Okay.” He had already passed his final exams so he would try to enjoy this night without thinking too much about studying.

“I'm going to get another drink, do you want one too?” Jay stood up asking uncertainly and Jungwon shook his head, clutching his red cup “I'll finish this one first.” He raised the cup, and Jay gave a side smile “Okay, bro. I'll be right back.”

Jungwon leaned his back against the back of the sofa and turned his gaze to the dance floor that had formed in the center of the room. While trying not to laugh at Jake and Ni-ki having the most hilarious dance battle in the world, his attention was diverted when he felt someone sit down next to him, a sweet scent exuding along with a loud laugh.

He turned around and saw you. Your hair was loose, with a glass in your hand and a – he squinted in the dark lighting and saw a – lollipop – in the other hand. The dark red leather jacket was extremely tight around your waist, contrasting with your black jeans.

“Wow, these guys are hilarious, right?” You commented as if you knew him while Jungwon was still staring at you “Yeah.” He replied automatically and you looked back at him, making him feel embarrassed.

Your eyes scanned his clothes, a perfectly plain dark blue sweatshirt over a white long-sleeved shirt, a thin gray necklace contrasting with his perfectly parted hair. His face was in perfect condition, practically sober. You bit your lower lip trying to contain a smile as you realized that he was clearly one goody two-shoes guy who must have been forced to be there by some friend.

“And why are you sitting here?” You asked curiously, moving closer and Jungwon moved back a little, surprised at how straightforward you were. “I’m enjoying the party.” He replied, looking away and you smiled a little, seeing his reactions.

“Enjoying the party while sitting down?” You raised your eyebrows. Your question made Jungwon run his hand through his hair lightly and give you a closed lip smile “Yeah, something like that.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you realized how right you were about your assumptions. He really was one goody two-shoes guy.

A very cute goody two-shoes.

Your curiosity grew when you realized that he couldn't hold your gaze for long. Ideas began to appear in your mind in a catabolic way while Jungwon remained looking at his cell phone, and then at the track, trying to distract himself.

“Maybe you should try dancing too.” Jungwon looked at you again, giving you a sarcastic smirk and you couldn’t help but notice his small dimple forming. “I can’t dance.” He replied, staring at you as you sucked on the lollipop. “Neither can I, but these are things we do for fun.” He saw your hands searching for something in your pants pockets. “It’s like eating candy while drinking, I know it probably cuts the effect of alcohol, but it’s cool at a party.” Jungwon saw you pull a lollipop out of your pocket and offer it to him. “For you, try it.”

'This girl is weird' was the first thing he thought before taking the candy as you stared at him shamelessly. He felt aware of your gaze and felt his cheeks suddenly heat up.

He wasn't used to interacting with many girls, especially girls who were strangely direct like you.

“Don’t put it away, you have to try it now.” Jungwon was almost putting the candy away when you came closer and held his forearm, making him nervous. He was already in the corner of the couch so he couldn’t move away any further. “O-Okay .” He quickly replied, opening the candy, trying not to look at you.

'Why does she stay so close?' he thought before putting the lollipop in his mouth and you pulled away slightly and clapped your hands slowly, satisfied with Jungwon's reactions. "So? Isn't it good?" You asked and he just nodded without saying a word.

“You’re kind of shy, aren’t you?” Jungwon noticed how you leaned back against the couch, your arm resting on the backrest as your temples brushed against the fingers of your hand. “What’s your name?”

Jungwon had a small internal debate as to why you seemed so interested in talking to him, but decided to introduce yourself anyway. “Jungwon, what’s yours?” He asked and you gave him an excited smile. “Jungwon... that’s a cool name.” You said, lost in thought. “You can create many nicknames. Jungwonie, Jungie, Won...”

With each version of his name being said, Jungwon was sure that you were clearly different from anyone he had ever met. A little crazy, but interesting at the same time. “AH! Wonie too!” Your gaze met his “Well, Jungwon, my name is y/n.” You finally introduced yourself “Nice to meet you, let’s get along well.” You took a sip of your drink, raising the glass like a greeting, making him think that the alcohol was probably cooperating with your actions.

“Sure.” He replied, thinking that your name seemed relatively ordinary compared to your over-the-top personality.

Your little interaction being interrupted by Jay who arrived and gave you both an excited smile “Oh? y/n? I see you finally met my friend Jungwon.”

Jungwon sighed. Of course you know Jay, now everything made sense.

“Hey Jay, it’s been a while.” You saluted Jay and looked at Jungwon. “Yeah, Jungwon is a really nice guy.” Jay noticed how you were looking at Jungwon curiously. “If I knew he was this cute, I would have met him sooner.”

Jungwon swore he felt his whole body stiffen. Did you just call him cute? The tips of Jungwon's ears turned red and you couldn't help but enjoy teasing the boy.

He completely fascinated you.

“Oh?” Jay gave a smirk “It’s because he doesn’t go out that much.” Jay walked towards the couch and you stood up at the same time “I figured.” Jungwon watched you walk “Well boys, now I have to go, but it was great seeing you again Jay,” You turned to Jungwon with a mischievous smile “And it was wonderful meeting you, Jungwonie.” You teased him and he looked away, scratching the back of his neck and nodding.

“See ya.” You gave one last smile and disappeared into the crowd.

Jay looked at Jungwon, laughing at the interaction he just witnessed, and sat down next to him. “I see I interrupted something.” Jay gave a teasing smile, nudging him with his shoulder and Jungwon sighed running his hand over his face “Man, I need another drink.”

Jungwon was relieved to think that he didn't have to worry about seeing you again as this would probably be the only and craziest interaction he would have with you.

That's what he thought.

The week had already started again and Jungwon had arrived early for class as usual. He methodically placed the materials on the table, checking if he had forgotten anything and smiled with satisfaction to see that everything was okay. He opened the laptop, turning it on as the teacher arrived in the room preparing the class material.

Jungwon was extremely responsible with his academic life, always being punctual and completing his assignments on time. He felt good about getting good grades at university and achieving all the goals he set for the future.

For Jungwon, there was nothing better than predictability and discipline in life.

As the teacher taught the class, Jungwon typed up notes on the topic, completely focused on the subject. Before he could write down the last topic spoken, his attention was snatched by your arrival, sitting next to him panting as if you had run a marathon.

“Am I late?” You asked in a whisper and his eyes widened in shock, staring at you in complete disbelief.

“y/n??? What are you doing here?” He asked, completely flabbergasted by the sight of you putting your backpack on your feet and a notebook on the table. The fact that you approached him to the point of sitting next to him as if you were great acquaintances was simply shocking to Jungwon.

You looked at him smiling, getting closer to him. “What do you mean, silly?” Jungwon’s stomach turned at your voice so close to his ear. “We’re on the same major.”

If he already thought you were crazy before, now, he was sure.

Jungwon didn't usually memorize the faces of everyone he had classes with, but he doesn't remember seeing you in any class before. How was it possible that you had the same classes, and your presence had gone unnoticed? You were like a hurricane that arrived and caught everyone's attention.

“I’ve never seen you in this class before.” He answers quietly, turning his attention back to the teacher’s explanation. “That’s because I sit in the back, Jungwonie.” You replied, poking his cheek with your index finger, making him give you a deadly look that amused you.

Teasing Jungwon has officially become one of your favorite hobbies.

“y/n, I need to focus on this class.” He said seriously and you smiled sideways “Sorry, I’ll let you study.” You straightened up and decided to write in your notebook while Jungwon sighed, running his fingers over his eyebrow .

'Is this a dream?' He wondered internally as he gave you quick, surreptitious glances at how you wrote things in such a messy pattern that it made him want to correct everything into an organized bulleted summary.

No margins, paragraphs or spaces. You simply wrote the way it came to your mind.

“You know Jungwon, you get super hot when you get serious like this.” Jungwon looked at you shocked again by your words taking away all the little focus he had. His ears and cheeks were clearly red. A heat rising up his neck.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind crazy?” He whispered back with a disbelieving look that amused you deeply. “Yep, I’ve heard it many times, I’m aware of it.”

Your smile intrigued him. How could someone act like that after just one interaction at a party? He sighed and turned away, trying to ignore your presence, even though he knew it would be impossible.

“This subject is important, it will be on the next tests.” He commented one last time trying to make you focus on the teacher and not on his profile.

“Okay, I’ll pay attention.” Your posture now resembled his, looking straight ahead, focusing on absolutely everything the teacher was saying.

After a few minutes, since Jungwon didn't say anything else, you felt curious and took the opportunity to watch how he typed on his laptop. The veins that ran from his forearm to his hands distracting you. You couldn't resist and sat a little further to the right, slowly approaching him until you could see the screen of his laptop, admiring how he managed to write everything down in such an organized way.

Your scent invaded Jungwon's senses, making him turn around slowly and be caught off guard by your face so close and move away again. "What are you doing?" He asked, seeing how you seemed to be practically glued to his side. "I'm seeing how you take your notes." He hadn't noticed before, but now he saw that you were chewing gum. "They're very organized."

He nodded and decided to ignore what you were doing and try to focus on what he was writing again. “You should do the same.” An idea popped into your head and you smiled. “I think you could teach me.” He scrunched his face at the suggestion. “No thank you, I pass.” He sighed seeing that the last few topics were incomplete due to the distraction that was your presence.

“Geez Jungwonie, don’t be so mean.” Jungwon jumped when he felt you quickly touch his left knee before crossing your arms and staring at him “I want to be a good student.”

“Then start paying attention in class and stop talking.” He gently brought his laptop more to his side and nodded at the teacher with his head.

You pouted playfully, but then smiled, enjoying how Jungwon seemed more expressive than he had been at the party.

Jungwon was more fun than you thought.

The rest of the class you decided to stay quiet and pay attention to what the teacher was saying. Jungwon, on the other hand, had his mind full, wondering how you could be like that. Even though you stayed quiet for the rest of the class, the fact that you were standing next to him and occasionally glancing at his summary to get an idea of what to write in yours took all of his attention away.

When class time ended, he mentally thanked himself that those minutes of mental torture were over. Your presence made him more nervous than any bad joke Jay ever told in his life.

“Jungwon, I loved sitting next to you, let’s do it more often.” You said and he sighed, feeling an absurd mental fatigue. “I hope not.” You laughed at his sincerity and pinched his cheek before grabbing your bag to leave. “Bye, wonie!” Every time you said a nickname for Jungwon, he felt a shiver run through his body.

He had no idea why you seemed so interested in him, but he knew your presence messed with his focus and he needed to be careful about that.

“Man, it’s been so hot lately.” Jake commented, fanning himself with his shirt as he and Jungwon walked towards a drink machine near the dorm. “It’s becoming unbearable.”

“I agree, I get thirsty all the time.” Jungwon stood in front of the machine pondering what he would choose to drink.

Jake chose a soda while Jungwon chose a natural orange juice “Nothing better than a cold drink to cool down.” Jake commented and Jungwon laughed as they walked to the campus building, but they stopped on the way when Jake pointed to a girl walking with an old lady by your side “Hey, isn't that y/n?”

Jungwon looked in the direction Jake was pointing and paid attention to the scene.

You were helping an old lady cross the street while she held onto your arm. Your smile was big as you interacted with the old lady. “Do you know her?” Jungwon asked and Jake nodded “She’s kind of peculiar, but she’s nice.” He replied and Jungwon watched the scene as you left the old lady in a safe place and then ran back to campus.

“She’s definitely peculiar.” Jungwon replied, continuing to walk with Jake before hearing you call his name “Jungwon!!”

You waved from afar and the boys watched you slowly approach. “What a coincidence to find you here.” You commented and Jungwon continued drinking his juice “We take the same course, it’s not that much of a coincidence.” He responded by turning his head to the side and you laughed at his answer.

“Indeed, you’re right. But it’s always good to see you.” You replied, making him look away and turned to Jake. “It’s nice to see you too, Jake.”

Jake chuckled “That’s good to know. Were you helping that old lady?” He asked, and you put your hands in the pockets of your jeans nodding your head “She seemed to be having trouble crossing the street, so I wanted to help her.” You commented, and he smiled “It’s nice how you took time to help her.”

“That’s what anyone should do.” You replied and turned to Jungwon “And you Jungwonie, where are you going?” He, who had been silent this whole time, looked at you confused “I’m going to the next class...” He commented as if it was an obvious thing that you should know since it was class time.

“Oh, you’re so disciplined Jungwon, I also have a class now, but I think I’ll go out for some ice cream since it’s so hot.” You replied as you stretched slightly “You’re going to ditch class?!” Jungwon widened his eyes in disbelief and you laughed “Relax, it’s an extra class that doesn’t have mandatory attendance.” Jungwon sighed at your response “Still...”

Jake was silently watching the interaction and Jungwon and chuckled when he realized the interesting mood between you two.

“Anyway, I have to go now. See you guys around.” You replied by waving goodbye with your right hand and left in the opposite direction, making Jungwon run his hand through his hair, shaking his head negatively.

“She’s so weird...” He spoke softly, but Jake laughed, putting his arm on Jungwon’s shoulder. “And what was this atmosphere between you two?” His friend asked, moving his eyebrows mischievously.

“What atmosphere?” Jungwon replied, walking ahead and Jake following behind. “Come on man, I could feel the sparks flowing between you two.” His friend said teasingly.

Jungwon sighed, deciding to ignore Jake's comment. "Let's go, I don't want to be late for class."

Jake just smirked and followed Jungwon "Alright sir, I'm coming."

It was late at night when Jungwon was in his room sitting at his desk, making his plan for the next weeks. He separated the curriculum for each subject and organized the subjects by day so he could get ahead and study in advance.

He contently smiled when he finally organized everything in his digital planner and could start to get ahead with all the subjects without stress for the next few days.

As he turned off his laptop, his thoughts were interrupted when his cell phone vibrated on the table and the screen lit up. He was surprised to see that he had received a message from an unknown number at this time of night, since his friends knew that he usually went to bed early.

When he unlocked his phone to check the messages he received, Jungwon couldn't believe what appeared in front of his eyes.

[Unknown] — Good night, Jungwonie.

[Unknown] — Are you awake?

22:31 pm

‘It couldn't be.’

[Jungwon] — How did you get my number?

22:32 pm

Read.

It seemed like an endless cycle, when he thought he was at peace, you appeared out of nowhere taking away all the focus he had.

He stared impatiently at his cell phone, seeing that you'd read the message and hadn't replied, making him anxious. His heart began to beat faster with the fright he got when his cell phone started ringing, and he saw that you were calling him.

Awkwardly he tried to lower the volume of the ringing that broke the silence in his room.

He could ignore you, block you and simply pretend nothing happened, but something inside him couldn't resist the curiosity he felt if he answered. What would be the reason for your call?

He struggled for a few seconds before accepting the call and putting the phone to his ear and hearing your voice on the other end.

"Oh?" You answered Jungwon "I thought you were going to ignore me." Your warm laugh tickled Jungwon's ear. "You didn't answer my question." His voice came out a little more serious than he intended.

"Oh, it was really easy, I asked Jay to give me your number because I wanted to talk to you." The sound of your breathing getting louder because the microphone was closer to your mouth.

'Of course it was Jay.' He thought looking at the ceiling.

"So? What do you want to talk about?" Jungwon leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, thinking about what would be so important that you would get his number and call him late at night.

"Well, I was feeling so lonely, so I thought about you and decided to call you." Jungwon's cheeks heated up at the way you said it, even though it didn't have the double meaning that crossed his mind.

"So, basically, you just wanted to call to pass the time?" He wanted to confirm his suspicion, and you laughed "That's right!"

"Haa..." He let out a laugh through his nose and you managed to catch it over the phone "You're laughing now, aren't you?" Your voice sounded excited "I can't believe I'm not there to see your smile in person."

Jungwon decided to get up from his chair and go lie down on his bed, ignoring the whirlwind of sensations that always arose every time he interacted with you.

He couldn't understand how you managed to keep him hooked with your unexpected actions. Maybe it was the curiosity he felt about what kind of person you were and why you acted that way.

"You don't make any sense," He replied looking at the ceiling placing his arm over his forehead "shouldn't you go to sleep if you're bored? It's already late."

You laughed, amused by Jungwon's authoritative tone. He was so prudent.

"Jungwon, when I'm bored, I don't sleep, I do something to have fun." He closed his eyes again as he listened to you "And it's not even that late." You replied and he sighed feeling tiredness hit him "For me it is." Jungwon slept early, his sleep was sacred.

"Well then, let's talk until you fall asleep." You said and he thought how weird that was.

Never in his entire life had he stayed on the phone with someone until he fell asleep, this was completely new to him.

"I'm an easy sleeper, so you'll probably be talking to yourself soon." He didn't deny the proposal, but he didn't want to give in so easily. He knew you'd do whatever you wanted anyway.

You chuckled, "Hmm, that's fine by me." The way your voice seemed sweet despite the joking tone made Jungwon wonder how he ended up in this situation.

As you talked about random things and funny stories from your adventures, Jungwon, who was listening intently, felt his eyes grow heavy. He vaguely remembered you talking about running away from the police and how you had a pet rabbit that ran away before falling fast asleep.

"And then he said— Won?" You giggled when you heard his soft breathing on the other end and no response. "Have sweet dreams." You wished him hanging up the call, letting Jungwon rest for now.

Jungwon was coming back from the library when he saw you from afar and started to wonder when your presence started to become normal in his daily life. You started to sit next to him when you had classes together, but now you let him focus better. He was also used to it when you talked to him in the hallways or sent him a picture of something completely random during the week.

Little by little he was no longer scared when you appeared out of nowhere, but despite being so present, you had the gift of mysteriously disappearing, and he realized that he didn't know much about you other than the barbaric stories you told him.

As he walked to the classroom you stopped him in his tracks with a suspicious smile. Jungwon looked at you curiously wondering what you were planning this time.

“Good morning, Jungwonie. Where are you going?” Jungwon looked at you, noticing how different you looked today, wearing a black denim skirt and a white turtleneck while drinking strawberry milk. You looked almost angelic.

“To class, as always.” He replied, taking a step back as you approached him.

“So, I have an idea.” Jungwon eyed you suspiciously “I’m afraid of your ideas.” He replied, making you laugh and pull him by the shirt to speak in a lower tone “Let’s skip class.” You whispered, and Jungwon sighed “Are you out of your mind?” He decided to ignore you and keep walking, but you stopped in front of him again “Hear me out!! It would only be today, and you’re already advanced in the subject. One class wouldn’t be a big deal.”

Jungwon looked up at the lights on the ceiling wondering why he was still listening to you. Clearly you had ideas that involved - not being responsible - with college.

“And what are you planning?” He asked and you smiled seeing that he didn’t deny the idea immediately.

“It’s a surprise.” You grabbed Jungwon’s sleeve and he shook his head “Absolutely not.” He looked at you and noticed that you didn’t have a backpack “You didn’t even come with a backpack? Were you already planning this?”

“Jungwon, I promise it will be fun, pretty pleeease, just for today!” You pulled his hand, and his eyes widened “You won’t fail for missing a single class, you know that.”

He was shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he debated internally about what to do. If it were the old days, he would have refused and gone to class immediately, but now he was actually debating whether or not to skip class.

Jungwon picked up his cell phone and saw that the next class would be a subject he was good at. “I can only miss the next class, then I have to come back.” He looked back at you, biting his lip anxiously, and you gave him a blinding smile.

“You’re going to love it, Jungwonie!” You intertwined your fingers with his hand and pulled him out of the college, making Jungwon’s heart suddenly race at the contact.

'What the hell am I doing?' He thought in disbelief that he would actually skip class just because you suggested it.

☆

Jungwon stared at you silently, watching you play with a cat on your lap. Apparently, your big idea was to skip class to go to a cat cafe near campus, because according to you, it would be easier for Jungwon to get back to his next class.

It was funny how you showed a new side of yourself every time Jungwon interacted with you. A part of him didn't want to admit it, but he was having fun. The day was peaceful and the cats in the place were super docile.

“Do you like cats?” He asked as a kitten snuggled into his lap. “I never thought much about it, but they’re cute.” You replied seeing how relaxed Jungwon looked.

You looked at him with a side smile, noticing how he looked away. His reactions always amuse you to the extreme. How could he be so cute? Your desire to tease him grew even more.

Jungwon lowered his gaze and stroked the head of the cat that slept on his lap.

“You look like a cat.” You said out of nowhere and he looked at you quickly “A cat? Why?” He asked and you got closer “Because you’re cute and serious.”

Jungwon's cheeks heated up when he saw how you were staring at him. “You know what? I guess I really like cats.” You teased him and laughed, watching as he gave you an awkward smile. His little dimple showed, and you held yourself back from touching his face.

Looking at the time on his phone, Jungwon saw that it was almost time to leave. The kitten that was on his lap woke up, stretched and slowly left, making Jungwon get up.

Jungwon offered his hand so you could stand up, since you were wearing a skirt. You noticed his kind gesture and gave a sincere smile, thinking how considerate he was, even though you disturbed him daily.

“I really enjoyed hanging out with you, Jungwon.” You squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes as you stood up straight. Jungwon nodded, giving you a tight smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Yeah, it was nice.” Was all he said before turning to leave the place.

You let go of Jungwon’s hand and followed him in a comfortable walk back to campus. Even though you were silent, Jungwon’s presence alone was extremely comforting, and you had already teased him enough that day.

Deep down, he didn't want to come back to campus, but he wouldn't admit it.

You were finishing washing the cups when you heard the noise of the cafe door opening. Your eyes saw that it was Heeseung arriving late with a smile on his face “Sorry I'm late, thanks for saving me once again.” He commented as you took off your apron and handed it to him.

“You owe me one. This is the fourth time I’ve covered your emergency shift.” You stretched as you watched the night begin to draw in through the cafe window. Every now and then, you would do favors for Heeseung, partly because he was your best friend, but also because he always helped you out when you were in trouble.

“Here, to make it up to you.” You looked at two tickets in Heeseung’s hand “It’s an underground rock band. They’re playing later.” Your friend looked at you mischievously “You can go with Jungwon.” He whispered, making you quickly grab the tickets, seeing the band’s name.

You looked at him suspiciously at the mention of Jungwon's name. Ever since Heeseung saw you laughing on your phone while talking to Jungwon, he never missed an opportunity to tease you.

Even though the time was a little late, you smirked thinking about the vision of going to a concert with Jungwon in the middle of the night.

Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea.

“You’re a genius, Heeseung! Thank you!!” You grabbed your bag and left the place.

☆

Jungwon was in a deep sleep when he woke up to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He rubbed his eyes, trying to read the name on the screen and saw that it was you. 'Of course it's her.' Sliding his finger across the screen, he answered while yawning slightly “Hello?”

“Jungwonieeee, were you sleeping?” Your loud voice made Jungwon move the phone slightly away from his ear “I was.” He turned on the light in the room trying to get rid of the rest of the sleep he had “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your sleep, but I have an invitation to make.”

“What is it?” Jungwon sighed, knowing he wouldn’t escape whatever you were planning.

“Let’s go out now.” You said directly, “My friend Heeseung gave me two tickets for a concert later, we need to go.”

Heeseung? Jungwon turned his head to the side at the mention of the boy. He remembered seeing him before at a few parties, but never interacted with him enough. A strange feeling formed in the pit of Jungwon's stomach, but he decided to ignore it.

“y/n, I should be sleeping.” He sighed, scratching his head as he looked at the schedule. “And we have class tomorrow! It’s still Wednesday.” You laughed at Jungwon’s worried tone.

“No problem, breakfast tomorrow is on me.” Jungwon was silent for a moment. “Is the place far?” He asked, getting out of bed. “Noo, it’s really close.” You cheered up seeing that Jungwon was interested “Come on, it’ll be cool.” Your voice seemed more seductive than usual at that moment.

“Okay, send me the location.” He said and you laughed “Silly, I’m already waiting for you in front of your building.” He widened his eyes and opened the curtain of the bedroom window seeing nothing on the street “I’m just kidding.”

Your laughter made him smile unexpectedly. “You’re impossible.” He headed towards the bathroom, knowing he would have to take a shower and get ready at the last minute.

“I send you the location, byee Jungwonie!!” You hung up, and Jungwon decided to get ready for yet another adventure you got him into.

☆

You were standing outside the bar where the concert would take place when you saw Jungwon arriving. Your eyes widened when you saw how much more handsome he looked than usual. He was wearing a black tank top with dark jeans and a leather jacket that adorned him perfectly.

When he gave a slight smile, running his hand through his hair, you felt a heat rise up your neck. He was so hot.

“Heyy, Jungwonie.” You pushed yourself off the wall and walked towards Jungwon. “So, you really came, huh?”

“I promised, didn’t I?” He stepped closer and you nodded with a small chuckle “Of course.”

He saw the door and stood beside you. “So, shall we go in?” You asked, and he nodded.

The night was just beginning.

The place was surprisingly full, with many people bumping into each other and Jungwon instinctively took your hand so that you wouldn't get lost in the place. The band was finishing adjusting the instruments on stage when you reached a good position to see the stage.

“Are you a fan of this band?” Jungwon asked beside you and you laughed “I’ve never heard of them in my entire life.” Jungwon leaned down slightly to hear you. Your whisper made him bite his lips trying not to laugh.

Going to a rock concert of a band you didn't know on a random Wednesday was so you.

“You're funny.” He spoke lowly, but you heard it anyway. The loud sounds of the instruments made your voices almost inaudible.

As the band began to perform their opening sets, Jungwon was thinking about how crazy this all was. He was at a bar, in the middle of the week, to see a show because you called him.

In a way, in the last few weeks, he had been living a lot more since he met you, but at the same time, it was scary. It was distant from everything he had planned, and it made him wary.

You were like a breeze that suddenly appeared when the sun was too hot, but at the same time disappeared just as quickly. Even though you had built a kind of friendship, he still wanted to know your dreams, more of your story... he simply wanted to know more about you.

His train of thought was interrupted when he saw that the place started to get crowded, and some guys started pushing you. Instinctively, he stood behind you, giving the rude guys a deadly glare.

You could tell he wanted to protect you, but he was too shy to touch you. His hands were in the air around you, and you smiled, pulling his hands to your waist. Jungwon was caught off guard, seeing you turn slightly to say something, “What a gentleman...” Your smile distracted Jungwon “That’s better.” He nodded, feeling his ears heat up.

When the show started, you didn't talk much, but you laughed a lot because you took the opportunity to scream when everyone else screamed and clapped madly at the end of each song. Jungwon would pull you into his chest occasionally when he saw that someone wanted to cross in front of you and you knew you made the right decision to invite him out.

☆

When the concert ended, Jungwon thought that he wanted to enjoy it more. As much as it was fun, you couldn't talk much because of the volume of the instruments.

“So Jungwonie, did you like it?” You asked as you walked down the street with him. “I liked it. It was very different from the concerts I’ve been to before.” Jungwon put his hands in his pants pockets as you both went to a part of the city that didn’t have many people at that time.

You walked up some steps that led to a small park that had a beautiful view of a part of the city. The place was empty, and Jungwon sat next to you on a small bench there.

“You know, I really admire you Jungwon.” You confessed as you looked at the moon that it looked particularly beautiful that night. “Why?” He asked curiously.

“You seem to have everything in order. You’re always so organized, I bet you have everything planned.” He looked at you intently. This time you were being sincere, as if you wanted to vent about something. “In a way, yes, but it requires a lot of sacrifices, so it’s not that simple.” Jungwon sighed, knowing all the daily sacrifices he makes for his goals.

“I wish I was like that,” You gave a sad smile. “It’s like I can’t follow through on the goals I set for myself.” Jungwon was silent for a moment, thinking about what to say. “I know we’re very different, but everyone has felt lost at some point in their lives.” You looked at him, seeing how kind his expression was. “Until you find your focus, it’s okay to fail and try again.”

You looked away, feeling your eyes water slightly. Maybe you just needed to hear that.

“And personally speaking,” He cleared his throat, “I also wish I could be a little freer like you, but it’s not easy for me.” You looked at him in surprise. Jungwon didn’t seem like the type of person to say something like that directly. “I like being disciplined, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go out for a few days.” He gave a wry smile, scratching the back of his neck, and you laughed.

“Well, I told you it would be cool.” You laughed, standing up from the bench. “You’re actually a pretty nice guy, Jungwon.” Your gaze lingered on Jungwon’s figure who looked like an angel under the moonlight. “I hope you don’t change.”

Jungwon gave a cute smile that made you want to hug him “I promise I won’t.” He replied, standing up too “Now let’s go, because tomorrow you’ll pay for breakfast.” He went ahead and you laughed “Hey! Wait for me!”

And so, you had a peaceful walk back to the dorm in a wonderful mood that you both didn't want to end.

Jungwon didn't know how you ended up in his room, but you were there.

You looked around the room, analyzing each decoration and Jungwon felt aware of your presence. Everything was meticulously organized just as you expected.

Jungwon wasn't one to have a lot of things. He was a believer in necessary minimalism. His desk had only a few notebooks and books neatly stacked, a simple closet, and his bed had a dark blue sheet neatly folded.

His room was very clean, and you smiled seeing how he had a small frame with a family photo and some keychains next to it.

"Your room is nice..." You turned to Jungwon seeing how tense he looked. "It's just like you." He gave an awkward smile and looked away. "It's pretty plain, but I like it."

You approached slowly with your hands behind your back "Jungwon, I'm curious..." Jungwon looked at you, feeling his stomach churn "About what?"

Your gaze was firmly fixed on the boy who had rosy cheeks watching every step you took.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Jungwon almost choked on your question as you ran your fingers down his shirt. “Be honest.”

He swallowed hard and looked away, "Y-Yes." You smiled, grabbing his chin and turning his gaze back to you, "You know, Jungwon, you're so cute." He took a step back and you got even closer.

"I like that." Your hands touched Jungwon's chest, who felt the back of his calf touch his bed. He walked backwards so much that he ended up sitting on his own bed, seeing you in front of him with an amused smile.

Your makeup was beautiful, your cheeks were flushed and your lips looked softer than usual. Jungwon couldn't speak at the sight, his heart racing at the way you bent down to be in his line of sight.

Jungwon was sweating, feeling a sudden heat rise through his body. He moved away slightly, leaning on his hands, unable to say a word.

This was wrong. He wasn't the kind of guy to take girls to his room, but he couldn't resist you. He knew he should probably be nice and find a way to get you out safely, but he couldn't say a word.

Not when you were climbing on top of him without any warning. Jungwon's breath hitched as you ran your hands down his chest, your face close to his.

He looked away and you giggled. "Have you done this before?" Jungwon felt a shiver run through his body when he heard your voice whispering in his ear. "Yes." He spoke quickly and you arched an eyebrow. What a surprise.

You chuckled, your breath fanning his face. You pulled his face up by his chin to face him, your thumb going up to Jungwon's mouth. “You have pretty lips." You whispered as you slid your finger across his bottom lip. "You too." He replied, staring at you.

You were surprised by his answer and gave a mischievous smile. Jungwon gasped when he felt your full weight on his lap, his heart was beating so hard with so much nervousness that he could only swallow dryly waiting for your next steps.

Your left hand was holding his shoulder, and you had such a deep gaze that he felt hypnotized. He would do anything you wanted if you kept looking at him like that.

With both hands you pushed his coat back, taking it off. He threw the coat to another corner while you noticed how red his ears were.

"Jungwonie," you called out to him and he looked at you eagerly "do you want to touch me?" Your question made Jungwon feel butterflies in his stomach. If you could read his mind right now you would know that was all he could think about right now.

"Yes." He sighed, closing his eyes as he felt your lips place a kiss on the corner of his neck.

Your hands pulled his hands to your hips. “You can.” He tentatively moved his hands from your hips to your waist, swallowing hard when you moved closer.

Your hands touched his cheeks, bringing his face closer to yours. He looked into your eyes, and you smiled, touching your noses. You were so close he couldn't think straight. Your breath mingled with his as you closed the distance and kissed him.

Jungwon felt the world stop with the movement of your lips on his. A soft, delicate kiss making him tighten your waist. You moved your hands to his hair, making him more desperate.

He brought your body closer to his and you smiled into the kiss, his cheeks redder than usual. He brought his face closer to yours again and you pulled away, teasing him.

He was so hot when he looked desperate.

"Easy, I'm not going anywhere." You replied and he felt slightly embarrassed, but that soon passed when you kissed him again, your hands going up under his shirt.

His breath hitched as he felt the touch of your fingers on his skin. His arm wrapped around you completely, the kiss becoming more desperate.

He pulled away to kiss your neck but was interrupted by a loud noise.

— BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP —

Jungwon's eyes widened as he woke up suddenly, his chest rising and falling in shock from the alarm as he stared at the ceiling of his own room. He was dreaming. It wasn't real.

He sat up in bed and ran his hand over his sweaty forehead. His entire body felt hot with the shame he was feeling at that moment.

A feeling of guilt invaded his chest. How could he dream things like that? Especially about you. His fingertips touched his own mouth thinking about how everything seemed so real. He couldn't forget.

The headache from having slept so little seemed unbearable as he tried to adjust to the brightness of the room. He pulled off his own sheet, throwing it to the side, trying to get up.

He had to face the reality that it wasn't real, and he would need to see you and pretend to be normal. He looked at his watch and broke out in a cold sweat when he remembered that you are going to have coffee together that morning.

'Great.' He thought indignantly to himself.

☆

After he got ready to go out, he looked in the mirror and realized how bad he looked. Dark circles under his eyes and his excitement on the floor.

He didn't know how to forget his dream, and much less how he would face you that morning. He sent you a message asking where you were. Maybe it would be better for him to ignore everything he dreamed and continue like nothing happened.

He walked into the campus and was greeted by Jake who looked at him confused "Man, you alright?" He noticed how Jungwon looked more dejected than usual.

"Just a rough night." He sighed, picking up his phone and seeing that you still hadn't responded to his message.

"You should take care of yourself, the heat is terrible. I heard that two people fainted today because of it." He commented and Jungwon nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind." He replied "By the way, have you seen y/n? I texted her earlier and she hasn't responded yet." Jungwon asked and Jake shook his head "I don't know, but you can ask her best friend." Jake looked back and pointed down the path "I just passed him, it was a boy in a red shirt and black pants, I think you know him, it’s Heeseung."

"Thanks, see you around." Jungwon left first and Jake smiled seeing how this time it was him who was looking for you, and not the other way around.

As Jungwon walked down the hallway looking for Heeseung, a part of him felt pathetic. He didn't understand why he seemed so desperate to find you, you could be busy and then you would answer, but he felt like he needed to see you.

He made a small run touching your best friend's shoulder who looked at him curiously. Heeseung recognized him instantly "You're Heeseung, right?" He asked worriedly and the boy smiled gently "Yes, and you're Jungwon, Jay's friend. I remember you." Jungwon just nodded before asking what he really wanted to know "Do you know where y/n is? I texted her and she didn't respond so I got worried."

Heeseung widened his eyes, understanding the situation. "Dude, didn't you hear?" Jungwon felt his heart tighten at Heeseung's tone. "What?" Heeseung sighed. "She fainted because of the heat. She's in the campus infirmary, I'm coming back from there."

Jungwon felt all the color drain from his face when he heard the news. You? Fainted? You, who has so much energy and never sit still?

“Where is the infirmary? I need to go now." He despaired and Heeseung grabbed his shoulder "Calm down, otherwise you'll be the next one to faint if you act like this." Jungwon let out the air he didn't know he was holding. All the worries he felt before disappeared because you were all that mattered right now.

"I'll take you there." Heeseung lightly squeezed Jungwon's shoulder. "Come on, I'll show you the way."

"Is she okay?" Jungwon asked on the way and Heeseung nodded. "Yeah, she was taking a nap when I went there. She must have been tired."

Jungwon felt a little more relieved, but he still wanted to see you with his own eyes. Heeseung took him to the place, leaving him at the entrance. "I need to go now, take good care of her." He said and Jungwon thanked him for his help. "Of course, thanks for showing me the way."

Heeseung gave Jungwon a friendly smile, "It's okay brother, don't worry." He replied and Jungwon felt a pang of guilt for harboring strange feelings towards Heeseung who seemed like a nice guy.

He said goodbye and Jungwon entered the infirmary looking for you. His eyes searched the area until he saw you lying on the bed with your eyes closed and sleeping peacefully. He carefully approached and sat down on the chair next to your bed.

He wouldn't leave until you woke up.

While you were sleeping, he noticed how long your eyelashes were and how relaxed your eyebrows looked when you slept. How angelic your face looked when you were expressionless.

He brushed a few strands of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. Your cheeks were slightly pale, perhaps from the weakness.

He looked around and saw that there was no food or water there, so he left his bag on the chair and went to buy some supplies from the machine outside the room. When he came back you seemed to have shifted position, your arm gently hugging the sheet.

He side smiled at how cute you were sleeping and started to think about how he ended up in this situation. You were just a strange girl he met at a party but now became important to the point where he watched you sleep in an infirmary ward.

Your presence was already part of Jungwon's life and he couldn't ignore it. His fingers lightly caressed your cheeks, warming the place.

Jungwon couldn't deny it, you were important to him.

When you started to move, he retracted his hand and looked at you curiously. You blinked your eyes slightly, stretching. Your gaze scanned the room, realizing it was the infirmary and finally noticing Jungwon's presence by your side.

"Jungwon?" You asked confused looking around "Why am I here?" Your head hurt a little and Jungwon made you lie down again.

"You fainted from the heat, you should stay here, rest and hydrate yourself." He said as he adjusted the pillow for you.

You searched your mind for your last memory and remembered that you had arrived at the campus gate before everything went dark out of nowhere. Jungwon looked at you intently, his shy persona being replaced by his comforting presence by your side.

"We were supposed to have coffee together." You mumbled sadly as you looked at him. Jungwon gave the first smile of the day, lightly caressing your forehead. "Your health is more important. We have all the time in the world for that." He answered gently and you felt your heart melt at that.

Jungwon looked even more handsome today. His presence was like an anchor you could rely on. He brought you unparalleled peace.

"You need to hydrate." He handed you a bottle of water so you could drink. "Okay." You replied, drinking the water and trying to relax. Your gaze fell on Jungwon who was staring at you, and you looked away, feeling self-conscious.

"You need to go to class." Jungwon snickered at your comment "I'm not leaving here." He replied taking the bottle back and giving you a cupcake so you could eat.

You gave Jungwon a mischievous look. “Oh? Jungwonie is going to skip class to take care of me?” You chuckled “I’m honored.”

He touched your cheek and smiled, "Looks like you're feeling better already." He commented and you nodded "Yes! Thanks to you Jungwonie, thank you very much."

"You're welcome." He saw how happy you looked and remembered the dream he had earlier. He looked away, feeling his heart suddenly race.

This was not a good time to remember that.

"I'll recover and I promise we'll have breakfast." Your voice was softer as you lay back down on the bed, closing your eyes as tiredness took over.

"Then recover quickly." Jungwon said smiling seeing how comfortable you looked to try to sleep again in front of him "Sweet dreams."

He let you rest while he played with his phone. As long as you were okay, nothing else mattered.

After you had fully recovered, Jungwon bombarded you with messages daily reminding you to eat regularly, sleep at the right times, and prioritize your health.

Since he was attentive and helped you over the past few days, you suggested camping with Jungwon over the weekend as a way of saying thank you.

You rented a car and bought a tent so you could enjoy the nice weather. While researching perfect camping spots, you found a great one that wasn't too far away, wasn't too crowded, and had a beautiful setting.

Jungwon was initially worried. Apparently, he wanted to avoid any scenario that could be dangerous for you, but you assured him that you were already recovered, and it would be fine.

Reluctantly he accepted, and now you were at the site setting up the tent until you noticed that the weather seemed cloudier than usual.

"The breeze is great." Jungwon said as he took a sip of water and rested after holding the heavy irons at the base of the tent.

"At least that." You replied, closing the tent's zipper and seeing that it had turned out great "It turned out perfect, we'll be able to enjoy it a lot."

Jungwon smiled "Yes. By the way, when are we going to set up the other tent?" He asked and you looked at him confused "There is no other tent."

The silence that hung in the air was embarrassing.

Jungwon was speechless and you began to realize that since you only bought one tent you would probably have to sleep in it together. His cheeks turned slightly pink and Jungwon cleared his throat trying to lighten the mood "I can sleep in the car, no problem."

"No way." You turned around and replied immediately "You did all the work, you're not going to sleep on the hard car seat."

Jungwon sighed at your stubbornness "y/n, I won't let you sleep in the car either." You gave him a smirk "Then let's sleep together."

Another silence filled the air.

Jungwon felt his throat close up, memories of the dream he had reappearing in his mind.

"It's fine with me, if you want..." Your voice sounded slightly hesitant, a little embarrassed. Something new for Jungwon, considering you always seemed confident.

"Are you sure?" He asked, looking at you. "Absolutely." You returned his gaze and answered honestly.

He knew that there was no going back on this decision, so he accepted the consequences that would probably come from it.

"Come on Jungwon, the day is beautiful, and I saw that there is a small river there where we can take some pictures." You opened the tent and went out first, changing the subject.

He gave a smile, following you. “Show me then.”

You two walked around the place and realized that you were the only ones there. A small river ran through the place making the landscape even more beautiful.

"Jungwon, take some pictures of me." You said laughing as you posed holding your summer dress. He smiled as he recorded everything.

"Go a little to the left." He directed you and you smiled as if it were a professional photoshoot "Jungwon come too."

He walked over to your side and you pulled him closer so you could take a selfie. He smiled wider, showing off his dimple, and you put your faces together for a cute photo.

You swiped your finger on the screen looking at the pictures, feeling happy with the interaction while Jungwon looked at you from the corner of his eye. He couldn't ignore how much more beautiful you looked today.

Your loose hair and red dress matched perfectly. He stared at you, feeling butterflies in his stomach that were impossible to ignore.

He knew what that meant: he liked you. Not just a simple liking but liking you to the point of accepting any crazy idea you suggested, doing whatever it took to make you happy.

He was completely in love with you, and he couldn't deny it anymore.

"Jungwon, I loved these photos, let's try some with the phone horizontally." You said and he smiled taking the phone from your hand "Sure, whatever you want."

You smiled at his response as you took more pictures near the riverbank.

☆

Jungwon went to get some snacks from the tent while you dipped a part of your feet in the river. He came back smiling holding some snacks and you got excited.

"Oh, that looks good." You saw a sweet pepero and cheered. "I knew you'd want some candy." Jungwon commented and you smirked. "You know me so well, Jungwonie."

He smiled as he handed you the pepero, but before you could enjoy the snacks, the sound of thunder startled you and a sudden rain began to fall on the two of you.

Jungwon took your hand as you ran back to the tent when the rain suddenly got heavier. You went in first and Jungwon followed right behind you, zipping up the tent. The rain was so heavy that you were amazed at how strong the tent was.

"I didn't expect it to rain today." You commented, putting the snacks away in a container in the corner.

"Me neither." Jungwon turned to you and took off the light coat he was wearing to place on your shoulders. You looked wetter than him, maybe because you were wearing a dress.

"Here, so you don't get cold." He said and you looked at him. "I'll try to get a towel from the car." You held his arm. "No, the rain is too heavy. It's better to wait." Your gaze and Jungwon's met and a silence hung in the air.

Jungwon’s hair was wet, his bangs were plastered to his forehead, and his shirt was slightly see-through. You couldn’t help but check him out.

He noticed your gaze and felt his heart suddenly race.

Just like in his dream, you approached. Jungwon felt an unsettling sensation run through his body seeing how your eyes were looking at him with such tenderness.

“I’m not cold.” Jungwon swallowed hard as you took off his coat, letting it fall onto the mattress beneath you. He was paralyzed, as if he didn’t know what to say, enchanted by your gaze.

Jungwon's right hand touched your cheek, removing the small droplets of water that were there. "Are you sure?" His gentle tone made your stomach flutter. "Yes." You smiled, realizing that he kept his hand there on your face. His thumb made circles on your skin, an act that showed affection on his part.

He looked deep into your eyes and in an impulse, Jungwon lowered his hand to the corner of your neck and closed the distance, giving you a sweeping kiss. All the rest of his consciousness faded away when you pulled him by his shirt, running your hands through his soft black hair.

Your back hit the soft mattress as Jungwon climbed on top of you. The kiss was desperate, his hands roaming your body. Jungwon groaned into your mouth when you pulled the hair on the back of his head, making you smirk in the middle of the kiss.

When his hands went up your legs, you pulled away to breathe, Jungwon's mouth devouring your neck making you gasp. "J-Jungwon." You whispered, closing your eyes and he brought his face close to yours, looking into your eyes. For a moment he realized what he was doing and swallowed hard.

He wanted to say he regretted it, but the way your eyelashes adorned your eyes as you looked at him, your flushed cheeks and how the fabric of your dress seemed like a huge impediment to his hands made him sure he didn't want to stop.

“I’m sorry.” His lips brushed gently against yours. “I couldn’t help myself.” His fingers lightly squeezed the skin of your thighs and you smiled. “It’s okay, I want it too.” You responded by giving him a long peck.

He observed every detail of your face. Your eyes, your nose, your mouth, the line of your jaw, your collarbone that was now completely exposed. You were completely beautiful, and he could no longer contain the feelings that invaded his chest “y/n,” He whispered giving you a soft kiss “I like you.” He was the first to confess and you smiled entwining his hair between your fingers “I like you too, Jungwonie.”

He laughed at the nickname and kissed you slowly. You wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him towards you as you felt him deepen the kiss with his tongue. Jungwon could only think about how he would enjoy this moment as if it were the last time.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, trailing kisses down your jawline. “You drive me crazy.” You moaned as you felt his lips on your neck. You just nodded desperately and felt your breath catch in your throat as he moved his hands up from your thighs to your back, under your dress.

“Jungwon.” You moaned his name involuntarily as he lifted the fabric of your red dress. He liked it when you called his name like that, as if you were desperate for something more.

The raindrops fell harder on the tent's material as you pulled Jungwon's shirt up, touching Jungwon's abdomen. You were surprised to feel how toned and soft it was. Jungwon's moan was swallowed by your mouth in the desperate kiss you gave him, your hands exploring his arms and back.

“Damn I really like you, like,” He started to say as he wrapped his arms around you tighter “I'm truly madly deeply in love with you.” Your stomach turned at his confession and how he kissed your collarbone. He moved his kisses up your neck making you see stars in the air.

“I don’t want to stop.” He confessed before kissing below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then don’t stop.” You replied as you felt the soft skin of his abdomen with your fingertips “Please.”

You looked at him like you had been asking for this for a long time. You gave him an obscene smile that made him want to sink you even deeper into the tent mattress and never come back to the surface again.

Jungwon's strong hands that once explored every skin on your body lifted all the fabric of your dress and you helped him take off his shirt. Every contact with Jungwon's skin lit a spark between you.

“You’re beautiful.” He pulled your face up by your cheeks and moved his hand down to your neck, his thumb gently caressing your throat as you tried to breathe since you were completely out of breath. “Please be mine.” He whispered against your lips “I already am.” You replied and he smiled before enveloping you in a completely passionate kiss.

☆

Jungwon hugged you while stroking your hair. You drew random patterns on his cheek thinking about everything that had happened.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” You broke the silence by laughing “I was surprised when you kissed me, but I loved it.” Jungwon looked at you carefully thinking how beautiful you looked in his arms “I couldn’t resist.” He replied and you kissed his cheek.

“And to think that before you could barely look at me.” He smiled “You were impossible.” The way he looked at you made you feel so many feelings at the same time that you were speechless. You had never liked anyone the way you liked Jungwon, and this was new to you.

“I’m looking forward to seeing more sides of you, Jungwon.” You whispered, giving Jungwon a kiss. “You’re like a box of surprises.” He pulled you closer. “And I’ll show you everything you want to see.” The sound of the rain being the perfect soundtrack for the cozy moment between you.

Jungwon had to admit: Jake was right. There were sparks between you two after all.

.

.

[caitlinsnicket]

viktor relationship headcanons

warnings: if you squint, you might see something a little intimate, but other than suggestions, there's nothing.

a/n: surprised myself by not only writing this so quickly but also by not including any filth. wow.

masterlist | 🍉 | ko-fi

He lives for shoulder kisses, treating them as a sort of stress reliever.

You visit his lab, bringing him a cup of tea (to make him sleepier and get him to bed quicker), and as you pass by, you lean down to kiss his shoulder.

Even through his shirt, he can feel your warmth, and as you leave, he manages to relax a little more.

Sometimes, before you go, he'll hold your hand and kiss your knuckles, his lips wandering down your wrist and arm until you start pulling him away from the workbench.

On good days—the days when he doesn’t feel as much pain or discomfort just from breathing—he asks for your help removing the harness he wears around his middle section.

He doesn’t actually need the help, but he loves the way your skin feels against his, especially during such an intimate moment, and he savors every second with you.

Putting the harness back on is a hassle, but it’s easier now because you understand.

It’s one thing to force your help on him, and another to ask if he needs it. He appreciates that you ask—and that you back off when he tells you to.

Another bittersweet aspect of your relationship is that he’s always cold. While it’s uncomfortable for him when he’s alone, it’s the best thing in the world when you’re around.

He’ll shiver slightly, and you’ll appear out of nowhere, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and pulling him close, tucking his hands under your thighs and kissing his nose until he’s boiling hot.

You also insist that he drink more warm beverages (except coffee—you banned that from your apartment ages ago), wear thicker clothes, and even use masks in the lab because his colds are always worse than expected.

Viktor insists he’s a grown man perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but when you hold his hands in yours and blow on them, he swallows his pride and lets you. Your love comes in waves like these, and he’s learned to catch as much of it as he can.

He doesn’t pay much attention to his appearance. While that unintentionally makes him a hundred times more attractive, it becomes a problem as he grows more important. It’s hard to explain that he can’t show up to an important meeting looking disheveled and that he needs to fix his hair before leaving the house.

So, you sit him down on the little bench you use to get ready yourself, using some of your products to tame his hair, smoothing down stray locks and ensuring he looks polished. The entire time, he fights to stay awake because of your gentle touch, eventually resting his face against your belly and breathing you in.

When you’re done, it’s a bit hard to get him up and out the door, but you manage by peppering kisses on his cheeks and nose. His heart races at your affection, and he promises to return as soon as possible so the two of you can be together again.

At some point, while redecorating the apartment for the millionth time, a picture falls out of one of his books: it’s him as a child, holding up a toy boat with a huge smile on his face. The sight makes you momentarily consider starting a family right then and there, so you call him over to show him.

He stutters, trying to snatch the photo from your hands, but you stop him, giggling at his embarrassed expression.

"You were so cute as a kid! I mean, you still are, but you looked so small! Baby Vik!" you tease, and he buries his face in his hands.

You end up framing the photo and hanging it on the living room wall, right beside one of your own.

But his absolute favorite thing the two of you do together is bathing. He never saw the point of it before—showering was easier and more practical—but now, he needs at least one bath a week just to keep going.

You fill the bathroom with bubbles, scents, and soaps, and he gets to sit back and relax with you in the warm water (which soothes his pain) in a dimly lit room. He loves it: your hands gently touching him, the care you take to ensure he’s comfortable and content in the tub, and even washing his hair for him.

He finds it almost pathetic how completely in love he is with you.

[hysteria-things]

MATT'S STREAM

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and chris’ relationship isn’t out to the public just yet. when he’s on stream with matt, you tease him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, dry humping, cock warming, degradation if you squint, p in v, semi-public (?)

ASSUME YOU'RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,521

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hiii i’m excited for this. let’s see how this goes :)

chris sits at his desk, spam clicking and smashing buttons on his keyboard. he talks to his brothers in his headset.

matt’s streaming on twitch right now, meaning that thousands of fans are watching the three of them play fortnite. you’ve been with chris for a few months, yet the fans have no idea. you both collectively agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye.

hence why you are seated next to him out of frame, watching the stream go down. your eyes scan to his side profile. his brows furrow in concentration, his tongue sticking out as he focuses on the computer screen. you hear the boys scream in his headset, and he slams his hands onto his lap.

“damn.” he grunts out, glancing over at you for a moment and smiling.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” he says into the mic before muting it and taking off his headset. he turns his face cam off and goes into the bathroom to do his business.

he comes out beats later, sitting back in the gaming chair, wiggling to get comfortable. you get up, which gains his attention. “you doing okay?” he asks.

“yeah. just need to stretch.”

before he could unmute his mic and turn the cam back on, you push the chair back slightly to have enough space to straddle his lap. he wraps his arms around your waist and welcomes you closer, kissing your collarbone. “they’re going to think i’m shitting.” he says jokingly.

your arms snake around his neck and you lean back to look at him. “say your camera broke.”

he smirks and puts back on his headset. “i’m back.” he starts. “for some reason, my camera is acting weird.”

“it’s all good. as long as we can still hear you.” matt’s voice replies.

the thin fabric you call panties rubs against his bulge through his red plaid pajama pants. you have a shirt on, one of chris’s FRESH LOVE t-shirts that covers you enough to look like a nightgown. a sensation tingles between your legs, and you start to move your hips slowly.

you hear chris groan, pressing a button on his keyboard. “what are you doing?” he asks sternly.

“i need to get comfortable.” you tease, rocking your hips harder. he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and clicks unmute again.

you rest your head in the crook of his neck and continue to rock your hips, feeling him grow beneath you. he still talks to his brothers normally, but his performance on the game doesn’t look good.

“what the fuck is up with you, chris?” nick questions into the headphones.

“sorry,” he mumbles.

your hands find their way to the back of his neck and tug at his hair lightly. you breathe heavily to not make any noise since his mic is right next to your head. you don’t even notice your hips rutting and body tensing when you feel your release soak your underwear.

you exhale shakily, lifting your body and looking at the mess you made. there’s a wet stain on his pants on top of his hard-on. you don’t even have to look to know your underwear is ruined.

chris looks at you confused, before following your gaze. you go to get up but he grabs your hips and places you back to where you’re hovering over him. he unties his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. he moves the mic away from his mouth, leaning toward your ear.

“don’t move or make a fucking sound,” he warns in a low tone you could barely hear.

he pushes your panties to the side and guides you down onto his cock, fighting off the hissing noise trying to escape your lips as he stretches you out tenderly and slowly. you and chris started having sex not long ago, but even after a few days without it, you had to readjust again.

this, however, is a first.

you guys never tried cock warming before. you felt so nervous. so excited. so full.

after multiple rounds of fortnite that felt like it lasted hours, your brain felt fuzzy despite not even doing anything. every time he talked, laughed, or celebrated a victory or loss, he’d thrust deep inside of you. and it drove you nuts.

you hear commotion on the other end of the headset. “fuck!” chris screams, jolting his hips further into you than at any other time. your eyes roll ever so slightly, mouth agape as your bottom lip grazes over his bare shoulder. it’s too late to take back the moan that came out of you.

chris’ hands make their way to your ass and squeeze hard, setting a reminder.

be quiet. right.

your patience becomes thinner and thinner, since it’s already been about thirty minutes. too desperate, you start to grind against him.

before he can do or say anything, you grab his mic and fist your hand over it so nobody can hear.

“please let me ride you. i promise i’ll be quiet.” you beg.

“so needy.” he sighs, taking your hand off of the mic and returning to the game.

rutting your hips forward, you start bouncing, your clit swollen from sitting still for so long without doing anything about it. you don’t know, but you could’ve sworn you heard chris groan.

too busy focusing to try to not make a sound by biting your lip, you hear sentences being scattered around from the boys.

“i don’t know, man.”

“this game sucks!”

“is your camera working yet?”

“no, sorry!”

little do they know, here you are, fucking yourself on your boyfriend’s dick like a bitch in heat.

you nuzzle your head in his neck and kiss a spot before biting down to stifle your pathetic sounds. chris hisses at the sudden contact and misses a kill, the other person killing him instead, costing them to lose.

“for fuck sake. chris, are you sure you’re okay?” matt asks in annoyance.

the tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot unexpectedly, forcing a whine out of you. “actually.” chris starts. “i don’t feel good, to be honest. i might log off for tonight.”

he quickly ends the discord call and shuts down his computer, stopping your movements. you look at him with glassy eyes, a frown portraying your face. he runs a finger up your spine before gripping onto your hair and yanking it, making you whimper. “first, you ruin my pants.”

he thrusts himself up into you, taking you by surprise with a gasp.

“then, you tease me.”

another thrust.

“now, you can’t follow simple fucking instructions.”

again.

a broken moan comes out of you, chris slapping your ass. “need me to fuck you so bad you can’t even wait two hours. instead, you get off by fucking yourself on my dick like your life depends on it. so pathetic.”

you whine of embarrassment, yet you don’t want this to stop.

“please.” you breathe out. “i’m sorry. please fuck me.”

with that, chris grabs your thigh with his free hand and starts plunging into you from below. his grip is still tight on your hair. you let out breathy moans left and right since each thrust takes the air out of your lungs. your eyes start prickling with tears from all of the built-up pleasure. “oh my— fucking— jesus— god.”

chris chuckles at your failed attempt to form a sentence. your moans transition into high-pitched squeals when he hits the angle that makes a knot form in your stomach. he releases his grip from your hair and moves it to your jaw, his hand that was on your thigh coming up to your mouth. he shoves in his middle and ring finger for you to suck on.

god, this felt good, and boy was it hot.

drool starts dribbling down your chin as you moan around his fingers and your eyes roll back. chris twitches inside you causing him to groan and take out his fingers, but your mouth still hangs open as unholy sounds come out of it. he releases your jaw and cups your ass with both hands.

“holy shit.” you whine. “i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, y/n. fuck you’re doing so good for me.”

because you certainly don’t have to be told twice, your whole body trembles and you fall forward. your hands cup the sides of his neck.

“i love you.” you moan into his neck as he continues thrusting to get to his release. “i love you so fucking much— jesus god.” you cry out when you feel chris filling you up.

he thrusts a few more times into your trembling body to get down from his high.

“look at me.” he says softly, bringing your head up to make eye contact. he smiles and kisses your lips. “i love you too, ma.”

when you come back to your senses you lift yourself off of him and stumble to his bed to sit down. chris pulls up his boxers and checks his phone that’s been blowing up on the desk in front of him.

[skeltnwrites]

At Least It’s Not the End of the World ♡

After protecting the kids from demodogs and sentient tunnel vines with Steve, a weekend babysitting Holly Wheeler together is supposed to be simple. That is until feelings neither of you expected start to make things way more complicated.

gn!reader, takes place in between seasons two and three, people who fight monsters together to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff 16k

── .✦

It doesn’t take long to remember why Holly is your favorite Wheeler. She’s patient and sweet, amazingly level-headed for a preschooler, and her manners could put some adults to shame. Compared to her siblings, Holly’s a little sweetheart. And a mama’s girl through and through, clinging to Mrs. Wheeler more often than not. 

Like now, she wriggles in her mom’s lap, scrunched over a coloring book at the dinner table. She squints at her box of crayons and purses her lips— choosing colors is hard when you’re five. She hasn’t said a peep since you arrived, but in the foyer, she greeted you with a clumsy wave and a sheepish smile. 

“It would be Friday afternoon to Monday morning,” Mrs. Wheeler explains, stirring a glass of lemonade with a curly straw. “I’d ask Nance but she’s having a girl's weekend.” 

You glance at Steve. You know girl’s weekend is code for spending the night with Jonathan Byers. But if he knows it too, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t so much as bat an eye at her words. In fact, he’s relaxed under Mrs. Wheeler’s gaze. He’s sitting in a chair he’s sat in dozens of times before, talking to a woman he sees more frequently than his own mother. 

You don’t know her as well as he does, but you aren’t strangers by any means. 

“And Mike, well, he’s not old enough to watch her for that long. But he’ll be staying over at Joyce’s so you don’t have to worry about him,” she pauses to sip her drink. “I’d pay you, of course. I don’t know what your schedules look like— I know you’re probably busy with the new job, Steve— but I figured since it’s a few days, I’d offer it to you both.” 

Steve flashes an honest smile and leans forward. “Are you kidding? I’d hang with this squirt for free. I’m actually off this weekend so it works out.” 

Mrs. Wheeler beams, eyes springing to yours. 

“Yeah, I could help too,” you shrug. You also happen to be free this weekend and the extra cash would be nice. 

“Great! You both are so lovely. Oh, I was so worried, I kept telling Ted– well, it doesn’t matter now.” Her bracelets clink and clash as she reaches across the table to cover your hand with hers. “You’ll have to keep an eye on these two. She becomes quite the riot when her Stevie comes over.” 

Steve chuckles and raises his hands in defense. “She owes me a rematch at Candyland so I can’t promise anything.” 

Mrs. Wheeler’s fingers retract from yours, landing on the end of Holly’s pigtail. “She’s really missed having you over. Asks about you still.” 

Holly ducks her nose into her paper, pink traveling up her ears. 

“Is that right?” Steve teases. “I’ll have to swing by more often.” 

“Please. You’re welcome anytime, Steve. Whether Nancy’s here or not.” Her attention drifts to you. “And the same goes for you. Mike won’t stop talking about that comic book you gave him.” 

A smug grin surfaces. Out of all of the kids, Mike is a tough one to please. 

“I’ve never been away from Holly for so long. But I trust you guys.” Mrs. Wheeler pecks Holly’s crown to hide a wobbly smile, her sentence spilling out in a breathy string of words.

She really does trust you both. It would take another set of hands to count the number of times either you or Steve had driven her kids home safely. This is just different. She loves all of her kids equally, but Holly’s her baby. 

Holly’s eyes cast up at her mention, bright as a sunlit gem. 

Mrs. Wheeler smooths her daughter’s sleeves down her shoulders. “But Holly’s a good girl. Right, Hollybear?” 

She turns to bury a toothy smile in her mother’s shirt. 

Mrs. Wheeler is meticulous as she presents each and every detail of Holly’s routine. From car seat safety to emergency contacts to allergies, she covers every question you might have before you have it. 

Steve’s a good listener but he’s cursed with a very short attention span. Mrs. Wheeler lost him somewhere around Holly’s sudden aversion to mac and cheese, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You’ll fill in the gaps for him later. 

This won’t be the first time you’ve babysat with Steve. Dustin roped you both into hunting his pet lizard-turned-alien which very quickly escalated to protecting four children from not one, but several, vicious aliens. Safe to say you two are experienced enough to handle one kid for a couple of nights. 

You haven’t seen Steve much since then. It’s summer now. The demodogs and sentient tunnel vines feel much more like a dream than something that actually happened to you these days. Steve works at the Scoops in Starcourt, or so you’ve heard several times– Dustin only reminds you about every time you see him. But despite being as close to death as you’ve ever been beside Steve, visiting him at work feels strangely wrong. Like crossing a line that neither of you ever drew. 

You would not consider Steve Harrington your friend. You’re friendly, as you might be with a neighbor or coworker, but you don’t talk much outside of ​​world-ending, portal-to-another-dimension kind of events. He’s family in a weird sort of way, bound by the shared trauma and unspoken loyalty— like someone you only see at family reunions, familiar enough to care about but still a stranger in most ways. High school was a long blur and your circle of friends couldn’t have been farther from his. So you don’t know Steve, not really. But of what little pieces of him you have come to know in the last year, he’s not half bad at babysitting.

ᯓ★

On Friday afternoon, you park your car beside Steve’s shiny BMW in the Wheeler’s driveway. You take the house key that had been slipped from Mrs. Wheeler’s key ring to yours and unlock the front door. And you find that inside, it’s completely silent. Holly’s quiet as a mouse but she’s still a kid and kids make noise. 

Your bag drops onto the floor beside Steve’s shoes as you toe off your own. When the kitchen and living room turn up empty you jog upstairs. Alarm sinks in on the last step where you still hear nothing. No shouting, no laughing, no crying, no nothing. 

There’s a large window in the hall upstairs, dividing Nancy’s room from Mike's and Holly’s. In your panic, you miss the suspicious lumps in the drapes that frame it. 

As you brush by, Steve rips the curtain across the rod and shouts, “Ha! Gotch– Oh.” 

Your entire body jerks, fear cinching every nerve. “Christ! Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry!” 

Your nostrils flare with hot air as you shove him, “You scared me!” 

His open palms hover in between your chests, unsure how to help. “I thought you were Holly. Sorry.” He gives you an apologetic once-over before a breathy chuckle escapes. 

“It’s not funny. All the shit we’ve been through. God.” He’s lucky you didn’t punch him. A part of you still wants to. 

“Mommy says that’s not a nice word,” Holly says from behind you. 

You turn, shoulders sagging in relief. “I didn’t mean to say that. Sorry.” 

“Stevie, I was supposed to find you,” she whines incredulously, hands planted on her hips. 

“We can go again. I’ll find a new spot.” 

Her frown mends as quickly as it appeared and she skips back to her room to count. 

“Sorry,” Steve reminds you. “Help me find a spot to hide?” 

Soft eyes, a softer smile. It’s hard to stay mad when he looks at you like that. “Okay.” 

Twenty seconds isn’t very long to hide. Especially when Holly counts as fast as she does and when you spend half of your time standing in the hall. So you end up crouched in the corner of Mike’s closet, Steve arched over you, trying his hardest not to crush your toes. 

“Jesus. Does this kid even wash his clothes?” Steve whisper-shouts. “It smells like something died in here.” His palm snaps to the wall behind your head, the flesh of his arm warming your ear.

“You actually couldn’t have picked a worse place. Oh my God.” You press the neckline of your shirt over your nose. Steve’s wearing enough cologne to drown out the stench of dirty socks, though it’s choking you all the same. 

“We had like three seconds. I panicked!” 

You’re glaring at him but only a fraction of light filters in from underneath the door so you’d guess he doesn't see. 

The closet is the first place Holly checks when she barges into Mike’s room, but you’ve never been happier to be caught so fast. 

“My turn!” She glows in victory, pigtails swishing like yellow ribbons as she shouts. 

Steve huffs. “Let’s take a break. We’ve been playing for like an hour.” 

“Can we play tag?”

“In a little while. I’m tired.” He pinches her neck playfully until she squirms out of reach. “How’d you have all that energy?”

She shrugs with her whole body. “I dunno. I’m a kid.” 

A laugh bubbles out of your throat. When your eyes flit to Steve you find him already smiling at you. 

“What about something a little more chill,” you suggest. “We could color?” 

“Bracelets?” 

“You want to make some?” 

She nods, “I can’t reach them. The beads are on top of my closet.”  

“I’ll get ‘em,” Steve offers. “Come show me where.” 

You fan out her multitude of craft containers across the kitchen table. Beads, charms, strings, all neatly filed away. She pops open a lid and plunks down across from you. Steve takes the seat at the end in between. 

“What color bracelet are you gonna make?” you ask, raking through the rainbow of options. 

“Umm, yellow. No– green!” 

“Nice. Here’s a cute little frog charm. Want that?” 

“Mmmm. No, thank you.” 

“I’ll take it,” Steve says, stretching his hand toward you. 

You drop it in the center of his palm where it clinks against a handful of blue beads. They’re pretty and vibrant like the sea. A flicker of an idea pulls you to grab your own handful. 

Holly slides four beads onto a string, two lime green and two baby pink. She drags the other end up and they all slip off, bouncing in separate directions across the table. You smack one before it dives onto the floor and Steve catches another two mid-air. 

“Can you help me tie it?” Holly asks from under her chair, searching for the fourth. 

“Sure.” Steve swaps his bracelet for hers, triple knotting one end. “I like these colors.”

She resurfaces with a grin, voice lilting as she speaks, “Do you like purple?”

“Yeah, purple’s okay. Do you?” 

She nods, pinching a lilac gem and examining it. 

You slip into a peaceful rhythm. The bead bin rattles as Steve digs his fingers in. He murmurs something about sparkles as he shuffles. Every now and then, you peek up at him. And each time, you find that he’s fully absorbed in this, rubbing his chin or poking his tongue out in concentration. You’d even bet he’s having fun. 

“Can you tie it on me,” Holly asks when she finishes. 

Steve takes her hand gently, fingers engulfing her tinier ones. “This good?” He tugs the strings across each other at her permission, sealing it with an extra knot for good measure.  

Holly starts a second one as you finish your first. You hold it up triumphantly for them to see– red and blue beads between every white pearl. 

“Very patriotic,” Steve teases. 

“It’s for you. For scoops. These are the colors right?” 

He softens, eyes rounding like brown buttons. “Wait, really? Thank you. Wow.” He inspects it fondly where you release it in his palm. “Will you tie it?” His arm shoots over to your side of the table. 

You feel his gaze shift from the bracelet to your face as you lace it. And you pretend that it doesn’t make your cheeks burn. 

“You don’t have to wear it to Scoops if you don’t want to,” you mumble, releasing his wrist. 

“What? Of course, I’m wearing it. No one’s ever made me a bracelet before.” 

Your lips bend up into your cheeks as he leans back in his seat. He twists and turns his arm, looking it over again with a similar expression. “Now, it was supposed to be a surprise, but since I’m almost done, I actually made this for you.” He scoops up the piece he’s been working on and waves it in front of you. 

You cock an eyebrow and smirk. “You sure you didn’t just decide that since I gave you one.” 

“I didn’t! I was planning this the whole time! Right Holly, didn’t I say that?”

“No?” 

“Holly, come on now.” He elbows her arm. “Supposed to back me up.” 

“But you didn’t,” she giggles. 

“Holly doesn’t lie, Steve.” 

“Okay, I didn’t say it. But I thought it. I was gonna give it to you I swear.” He jams another couple of beads on his string. “See! Look, it has your favorite color on there.” 

“It has every color on there.” 

“One of which is your favorite.” 

You roll your eyes as he takes your wrist. His hands are warmer than yours, softer than you expect too. He stills as your palm flips face up. A jagged, fleshy ridge runs from the bottom of your pinky to the meat of your thumb. Steve was there when you got the scar. He’s never said it, but you know he blames himself for it. A demodog had you pinned in that damned junkyard school bus so Steve pushed you out of the way but you caught yourself on a broken window. 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His head dips in a silent nod. He isn’t sure whether to believe you or not. Either way, he feels sorry still.

His bracelet is a statement piece for sure. It truly has every color under the sun and a random assortment of charms and shells. But it’s sweet that he gave it to you. Even if he totally did not plan to do so at first. 

He makes a second bracelet for Holly with purple string and butterfly pendants. Holly gives her next one to him as thanks, then begins on a third for you. 

Steve stands from the table. “I’m hungry. Grilled cheese okay for dinner Holly?” She nods as do you when he asks you the same. 

Your focus drifts between him and the necklace you’re starting for Holly. He coasts around the kitchen naturally, like you imagine he would in his own house. But it’s a bizarre sight. Steve Harrington cooking you food, in the Wheeler’s kitchen out of all places. 

And he’s about as good as a chef as you expect him to be. He’s clumsy and uncertain, even dropping a spatula on the floor with an, “Oh, shi–ugar…” But he kindly refuses to accept any help or advice when you offer. 

He eventually swings around the kitchen island, brimming with pride, one plate in each hand. They’re set in the space you’ve cleared and you quickly see that the sandwiches have been cut adorably into stars. You just as quickly see– and smell– how burnt they are. They aren’t black, they’re edible for sure. But Holly’s five, and polite as she is, most kids would never willingly eat this. 

So you aren’t surprised when she looks at it in disgust, borderline horror. 

“Look, it’s a star,” Steve beams, oblivious. 

Your chest aches with the desire to laugh and an equal pang of sympathy. 

Holly shakes her head, visibly toning down her expression for his sake. “Can I have something else?” 

“It’s good! I promise, just try it.” 

She slowly shakes no again. 

“Steve,” a peel of laughter escapes your lips. “It’s burnt.” 

He scoffs. “It’s not that burnt.” 

Your mouth twitches in a funny little line and your eyes leap between him and the plate. “It’s pretty burnt, Steve.” 

After a moment of silence, he sighs and picks both plates back up. 

“Wait,” you shout, “I’ll still eat mine! Mine isn’t that bad. You did a good job!” 

He sulks at you. “You’re just saying that. I’ll make new ones.” 

“No, it’s okay, really. I’ll eat this one. I don’t mind.” 

He plants the plate in your grabby hands and spins back toward the stove. 

Round two is much better, still star-shaped, and a few shades lighter. Holly thanks him more than once while eating it without you even asking her to. If only Nancy and Mike were as precious as her. And Steve eats the first attempt, now cold, and admits that it tastes, “slightly burnt.” 

You take the empty plates to the sink to wash while Steve and Holly lug the jewelry kits back upstairs. You meet them in Holly’s room after. They’re playing house, Steve the dad, and Holly the mom, with four babydolls for children. She appoints you to be the neighbor when you join. 

You knock on her bedpost, pretending it’s her front door. “Holly, in one hour you’re gonna take a bath.”

Her head pops out from under the blanket. “Can we watch a movie before bed?” 

“Sure, but we have to do bath now if you wanna watch the whole thing.” 

“Okay!” She kicks the sheets away, jumping off the bed in a race to the bathroom. Steve winces as she steps on his hand. 

“Do you need help?” he asks, sprawled across the bed, socked feet hanging over the edge. 

“No, I got it. You can rest in peace now,” you joke, halfway through the door. 

Holly is self-sufficient enough to bathe herself so all you have to do is supervise. You find a matching polka dot set of pajamas in her dresser and a towel under the bathroom sink. And she gets dry and dressed all by herself, Miss Independent. 

“So there’s The Little Mermaid, E.T., Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory…” Steve trails off, kneeling in front of the entertainment center. 

Holly hands him a VHS tape, “This one?” 

“Ooh, good pick.” Steve feeds the tape into the player and rewinds it. 

You pat the couch cushion beside yours as Holly skips over. Steve hits the light before flopping into the recliner with a satisfied groan. The Jungle Book glows to life on the TV, casting an indigo wash over each of your faces. Holly curls into herself, knees tucked to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them.

“Here,” Steve chucks a blanket from the basket at his side. 

“Thanks.” You scoop it off the floor where it missed the couch and billow it out over you and Holly. “Don’t fall asleep, Harrington.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve folds one leg over the other and crosses his arms, eyes glued to the screen. He reminds you of Mr. Wheeler sitting in his recliner like that. It’s alarming how attractive you find it. He’s not even doing anything worth staring at. You force your eyes back on the TV. 

The credits scroll up the screen for a whole minute before you realize the movie has ended. You aren’t asleep but you aren’t totally awake either. Steve’s not far off by the looks of it and Holly, on the other hand, was out like a light halfway through. Her head presses into your upper arm, her hand scrunched in the blanket on your thigh. The weight is nice, making it all the harder to pick yourself up and get her to bed. 

But thankfully Steve’s there to help. He twists in his chair until his back clicks, smiling when he catches sight of you and Holly. “I’ll carry her up,” he whispers. 

You gently work Holly’s stubborn fingers from the blanket as Steve stands. He pushes the rest of the fabric into your lap before bending to scoop Holly up. 

“Be right back,” he says, starting toward the stairs. 

You tug the blanket higher, seeking lost comfort in its folds, though it doesn’t compare to the warmth Holly provided. 

Steve pads back down not a minute later. He stops on the last step, hanging over the railing. “You awake?” 

“Barely,” you mumble. 

Steve plods up to the front door to check the locks. He orbits into the kitchen and then back around to the living room to turn the TV off. He’s being the responsible one. You aren’t sure why this surprises you. 

“Come on,” he opens his hand toward you. 

Your arm snakes out from under the blanket, and he lifts you effortlessly. You’ve seen how strong he is, how he fights, but it still surprises you. 

“I was gonna suggest another movie but I don’t think either of us’ll make it.” 

You catch a yawn from Steve. “I know. I’m so tired. It’s not even late.” 

He hums from behind you on the stairs. “Yeah. Who knew this’d be so exhausting.” He’s only being slightly sarcastic. There’s an obvious truth to what he implied, but at the same time, it is so much harder than you realized it would be. 

You stop at the landing, sluggishly turning to face Steve. “Well, goodnight, I guess.” 

“Goodnight.” 

You splinter into opposite ends of the hall. Steve let you have Nancy’s room for obvious reasons, though he wasn’t thrilled about crashing in Mike’s bed. He’s probably better off on the couch after seeing the kid’s closet. 

You change into cozier clothes and untuck Nancy’s quilt. Like with Steve, you and Nancy aren’t really friends. It’s strange being in her room, settling into her bed. And it’s almost stranger that Steve is sleeping across the hall. Yet, there’s an odd comfort in it— being surrounded by people who went through the same thing you did. 

ᯓ★

There’s thumping in the hall– footsteps, too light to be Steve’s. You fight the urge to go back to sleep. Holly needs a babysitter. But it’s not an easy feat, not when you’re swaddled like a baby in blankets much softer than the ones you have at home. You’re warm and it’s so quiet it feels like a gift; that is, until you remind yourself that kids and quiet don’t usually go hand and hand. She could be answering the door to a stranger, scaling the counters, setting the kitchen on fire, the possibilities are endless. 

You force your heavy eyes open and flinch as a much brighter pair come into focus. 

Holly bends over you with this innocent endearment you cannot possibly be mad to be woken by. “Told you, Stevie,” she says. 

“No, you woke ‘em up, goofball.” Steve lingers at the foot of the bed in a pair of striped pajama pants and a faded Olympics tee. You’ve never seen him in pajamas before, or anything quite like it. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows and rub your eyes for a better look. 

“Sorry,” he supplies. His voice is still raspy with sleep and his oh-so-perfect hair shoots up in wild peaks. The sight makes your chest buzz. “She said you had to get up to.” 

You redirect your attention to Holly, pinching the neckline of your shirt back over your shoulder as you sit up. 

“Can we have eggs?” she asks you. 

“Sure.” 

She traps her lip between her two frontmost baby teeth. “Five?” 

“Five eggs!” Steve chides. “Just for you?” 

She turns to nod at him, smile blooming. 

He wears the same joy, ruffling her already unruly bed-head. “What are you a linebacker?” 

She giggles, clueless as to what he’s talking about. 

“Let’s start with two and if you’re still hungry you can have more,” you compromise. 

You are undeniably a better cook than Steve, but the bar is low after yesterday. You serve scrambled eggs and unburnt toast. Holly looks at her plate like she hasn’t been fed a day in her life and she shovels spoonfuls of it in her mouth like it’s her last meal. 

Steve watches her with an anxious frown. “Smaller bites, Holl.” 

She nods but doesn’t exactly slow her pace. Steve chases your eyes, knocking your ankle with his when you don’t look. He gives you that funny face parents make. Help me out. 

You shrug. “It’s just eggs. Babies eat eggs.” 

He cycles through several emotions—frustration that you won’t back him up, disbelief that babies eat eggs, and a lingering fear that she might choke. But he stops himself from asking all the what-ifs, he trusts you. 

Holly swallows half of her glass of chocolate milk in one go. Steve looks mildly horrified. 

“My God. She’s like a little human vacuum,” he mumbles through a mouthful of toast. 

You snort into your glass. If Holly heard him, she’s too preoccupied to care. 

After breakfast, Steve sets her up in front of the TV to watch cartoons while you clear the table. He disappears into the basement in search of a board game but comes back with some deflated, plastic thing. 

“What happened to the board game?” you ask. “What even is that?” 

“It’s a kiddie pool. Let’s go outside. It’s nice out.” 

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.” 

“Me neither. Just wear that.” 

You wrinkle your nose down at your pajamas. “Go see if she wants to.” 

He smiles, retreating back into the living room. Shortly after, he shouts, “She said yes!” Footsteps pound up the stairs, followed by a second shout, “Don’t run!” 

Mrs. Wheeler calls the house phone and is pleased to hear your good report. She reminds you several times to apply sunscreen to Holly’s ears and that there’s an extra can in the upstairs bathroom. You wrangle Holly over to put her on and promise to call back before bedtime when she refuses to hang up. 

You sift through your bag, changing into the closest thing to swimwear. Steve takes forever in the bathroom, which doesn’t surprise you one bit. He comes out in a crisp white tee, way too expensive-looking for a pool day, and a pair of red gym shorts. 

“What are you, the lifeguard?” you joke. 

His hands snap to his hips. “Uhh, I’ll have you know I’ve been a certified lifeguard for two years, so yeah, actually.” 

You roll your eyes, brushing past him for the extra can of sunscreen. “Are you ready? Holly’s waiting.” 

“Yeah. Let me go blow up the pool. I’ll be outside.” 

You fix your hair in the mirror and tuck a few towels under your arm before heading downstairs. Holly’s already outside, criss-crossed in a big lawn chair and watching Steve with incredible boredom. He stands barefoot in the grass, the deflated pool pressed against his chest. He pulls away from the air valve when he notices you, quickly capping it with his thumb. 

“You okay?” you ask, laughing lightly. 

He nods, red-cheeked and breathless. “Think there’s a hole in it. Been blowin’ for like five minutes.” 

“Huh,” you drop the towels and take one end of the limp plastic. “Try again.” 

He funnels more air inside, it dispurses evenly underneath your palm. You don’t hear any air wheezing out so you turn it over for further inspection. 

“Oh, Steve. Here, look.” 

He pops his mouth off and follows your pointer finger. A second valve at the bottom, unhinged and releasing his hard work steadily. 

“Oh, you’re kidding me. Why’d they put one under there?”

You shrug, plugging it back up. “Holly, let’s get some sunscreen on so your mom doesn’t kill us.” 

Holly hops off the chair and skips to your side. You mist her skin in several layers, lathering a generous amount over her ears. When you move onto yourself, she grabs her basket of toys and climbs into the dry inflatable. Steve retrieves the hose and releases a cool stream into the pool, splashing Holly’s feet.

She squeals and scoots back. “Cold!” 

Steve’s thumb eclipses the opening so the water bursts out in wide a fan. He trains it at Holly, spraying her until she’s soaked and screaming. 

He’s giggling in a way you’ve never heard. Genuine, open-mouthed reels of laughter. You hate to admit it, but it’s really cute. So infectious you can’t help but join. 

He glances back for your reaction, pleasantly satisfied. And your smile incites a great idea. He swings the hose around, aiming it straight at you. 

“Steve!” Your arms shoot out to block the attack but it’s no use. 

“What?” he says, the epitome of innocence. 

Your eyes narrow but a smirk prevails. “Oh, you–” 

Holly tackles the back of his thigh with a scream. Steve stumbles forward and the hose slips from his grasp. 

You lunge for it before he even realizes what happened. And by the time he does, he’s already drenched. “Payback!” You laugh maniacally as he combs his hair out of his eyes. 

He’s laughing too, bent at the waist, still shaking his surprise. But only until he catches your gaze– then comes the glint of something playful, almost daring.

Steve barrels straight through the spray like a bull. He chokes your fingers over the nozzle, bending and bending the line until the water pours straight down your head. 

Holly dashes behind you to wrangle the wiggly tail of the hose, squealing at every layer of mist she catches. 

You and Steve wrestle with it, his hand on your hip, yours pushing his shoulder. He’s gentle but still strong. And his touch sears through the cold water, your skin tingling in his wake. 

The second he sticks the end down the back of your shirt you scream. “Okay, okay! I surrender!” 

He crimps the hose with one hand, smirking deviously. 

“I surrender,” you repeat, heaving through your laughter. 

Holly drops her end of the hose, backing up one slow step at a time. 

“Truce?” 

“Truce,” you nod, stepping up cautiously to shake his hand. 

He accepts your hand, using it to yank you closer and blast you again. You chase and dodge and tackle each other under the blazing sun until your legs feel like jelly. But the game eventually slows as exhaustion creeps in. 

You and Steve collapse in the lawn chairs while Holly lays belly-down in the pool. Water sloshes over the rim onto your toes as she kicks, a brief reprieve from the sticky heat. You're relaxed, but your mind wanders. You keep hoping the Wheelers won’t notice the sudden increase in their water bill. 

“Dustin talks about you all the time.”

You tear your eyes away from Holly, blinking back into reality as you face Steve. “What?”

“Dustin, he talks about you all the time. Kid loves you.” 

“Oh. He’s a sweet kid. Talks about you too. Keeps telling me to come see you at Scoops.”

Steve chuckles, more of a half-hearted puff of amusement than a real one. 

“Which, I’m sorry I haven’t, by the way,” you confess. 

His eyebrows jump, lips parting in soft surprise. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. He’s just being Dustin.” 

You press a blade of grass flat under your heel, as if the right words might sprout from the dirt. “I dunno. I mean, don’t you think it’s kinda weird that we don’t like talk? After everything?” 

The words bounce around Steve’s head for a minute. He fixates on your choice of weird. Weird, like bad? Weird like you want to talk? He can’t decide. And he’s afraid if he opens his mouth, the wrong words will tumble out. 

But he tries anyway, “Honestly, I thought you didn’t want to be friends. You were just so… distant after.” 

You rub the length of your arm, lips creasing into a frown. “Sorry, I was just. I don’t even know. Rattled, I guess.” 

“Yeah, rabid dogs with faces that split open and try to eat you tend to have that effect.” 

Your frown melts, little by little. 

“But we should’ve been there for you more. It was a hard time for everybody.” 

His apology echoes in your mind, the ache like a weight on your chest. 

“You could visit if you wanted to. At scoops. I could get you ice cream for free.” 

But the ache doesn’t stand a chance against the way he makes you feel. 

“Okay.” Your cheeks round with a sincere smile. “I’d like that.” 

He turns his head, as if to hide, but you still catch an echo of your own expression. Your eyes flicker across the contours of his profile, following the graceful line from his ear to his collar, before drifting over the sculpted shape of his arms and the long expanse of his thighs. Steve Harrington is objectively attractive. This isn’t the first time you’ve thought so. But it is the first time that fact makes your head spin. 

Maybe it’s the heat. The sun feels like it's roasting you alive, and Steve’s attractiveness certainly isn't helping. You’re feeling strange, thinking crazy things– the kind of thoughts that only come when you’re on the verge of heat stroke certainly. 

You stand abruptly and the grass sways underneath your feet. But you get your bearings before anyone notices. “Holly, can I come sit in the pool?”

Her eyes pop up, grin distorted underneath the water. She props her elbow up and rests her cheek in the palm of her hand. “What’s the password?”

“Umm, can you give me a hint?” 

A high-pitched hum. “Okay. She’s my favorite character.” 

“Uhh, Barbie?” 

“Nooo.” 

“Strawberry Shortcake?”

“Nooo.” 

“Hello Kitty?” 

“You’re really bad at this,” she giggles. It would be really cute if you weren’t possibly dying right now. 

“It’s Care Bears,” Steve interjects, snapping his fingers. “Uhh, the yellow one. Umm, Funshine!” 

“Yes!” Holly glows like the sun on Funshine herself. “Stevie can come in.”

Steve stands but he doesn’t get in. “Come on, Holl. It’s hot.”

“There’s a new password.”

“Okay, okay. Can I have another hint?” you ask. 

Her tongue curls out to lick the sweat off her lip. “My favorite color.” 

“Purple?” 

“Yes,” she nods and sits up. “But I really like yellow and blue and pink too.” 

You sink into the water, unsure if there was ever a wrong answer. It’s shallow and lukewarm, barely grazing the tops of your thighs, but it’s enough to cool the sun off your skin. Steve follows, and the space tightens awkwardly— the inflatable wasn’t built for three. His knee brushes yours while Holly’s toes nudge your foot, but neither of them seems to mind. 

You cup water up to your cheeks and pour it down your arms. 

“Better?” Steve asks, a droll little pinch to his features. 

He’s staring at you which is definitely not helping but you nod anyway. 

“Why don’t we move to the shade?” He stands before you or Holly agrees, offering his hand to pull you up. 

She races Steve to the nearest tree, though he doesn't stand much of a chance dragging the pool behind him. He refills it with fresh water and encourages Holly to splash you gently while he runs inside to make lunch. By the time he returns, you’re feeling much more yourself. 

“Bon Appétit,” Steve announces, lowering himself slowly onto a towel. He carries three animal-shaped plates stocked with fruit and PB&Js, one in each hand, another balanced on his forearm. 

Holly scrambles out of the water, plopping onto the other end of his towel. You get out too, shaking a second one out to lay beside theirs. 

“Lion or hippo?” he asks Holly. 

She hums for a long time, inspecting each plate meticulously before pointing to the lion.

“Good choice.” He sets the plate in front of her crossed legs and passes you the hippo. Steve takes the polar bear for himself, which notably only has half a sandwich. 

“Where’s the other half?” you ask. 

He takes a large bite, pressing his hand to his mouth to reply, “Ran out of bread.” 

“Here.” You rip one of your halves in half. 

“Thanks,” he says, syllables tangling as he chews. 

Holly watches the interaction fondly before pulling apart her own sandwich. It splits in a jagged line, mostly crust on one half. But happily, she thrusts the bigger piece toward Steve, jelly dribbling down her little fist. 

He tilts his head, a growing smile mirroring yours. “You eat it. I have enough now.” 

She crinkles her nose. “You eat it!” 

“No, you!” He squeezes her slim bicep. “You need to get big and strong.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’m already big and strong.” 

She considers this, giving him an obvious once-over that makes you laugh. “Trade?” 

“Okay, trade.” Steve chuckles, exchanging one of his halves for hers. He licks a stripe across his knuckle where her sticky fingers brushed his. It’s as innocent as the gesture can be but something about it has your cheeks burning in a way the sun couldn’t. 

Conversation tapers off, replaced with an easy quiet. Your stomach is satisfied with the food, but it’s your heart that feels the most nourished, steeped in the comfort of good company. You hadn’t expected to enjoy hanging out with Steve or Holly this much. 

Holly slouches into your arm, stretching her legs across the grass like a bridge between the towels. Her heels push into the pudge of Steve’s thigh, the faintest smirk crossing her lips. 

He squeezes her ankle until it darts away. 

Gradually, she presses again and in turn, he squeezes, but this time he doesn’t let go. She squeals as he drags her down your side. But all hell breaks loose when he starts tickling the bottom of her foot. 

She shrieks, thrashing and squirming against his hold, giggling in between gasps. “Ste–vie!” she cries.

Her laugh is too pure of a sound to be real, Steve thinks. His resolve crumbles, grip faltering. And Holly’s heel slams smack into his jaw. Steve winces, bending away to cradle his cheek. 

You straighten up. “You okay? Let me see.” 

Holly’s legs go limp in the grass, her shoulders tense in your lap. 

Steve’s hand slackens unveiling a red splotch not much darker than his sunburnt cheeks. He meets your eyes with a dismissive shake, “It’s okay.” 

You believe him. It doesn’t look nearly awful enough to make your concern stick. And his face has been through worse. Billy Hargrove painting his fists red with Steve’s blood is one of the things you remember most about that night. 

His attention dips down to Holly. She sniffles, eyes glistening in the sunlight with a frown nearly reaching her chin. 

“It’s okay. I’m okay, Holl.” 

Holly putters, whimpers drowning the edges of her words. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay! I promise! It doesn’t even hurt,” he reassures, cupping her kneecap. 

You tug her off the ground and she sinks into your arms naturally. Hot tears pave a path down your neck only to dissolve in the fabric of your shirt. You coax her sobs out, one back rub at a time. 

Steve waits until she settles with this pitiful look on his face. “I know you didn’t mean to Hollybear. Just an accident. Hmm?” 

She nods against your chin. 

He strokes the back of her arm, fingers grazing yours where they work. “Please don’t cry.” 

Holly sniffles. 

“You know what might help me feel better?” She lifts a sweaty cheek off your chest as Steve opens his arms. “A hug.” 

She pushes out of your hands into his. He holds her tight, providing one loving squeeze after another. 

This is not how you pictured Steve to be under normal babysitting circumstances. A voice like sweet honey, eyes warm like the sun. He’s very soft, and so undeniably kind. And not just to Holly, but also you. 

Steve hooks the spare towel closer, draping it across her back. “Lean back,” he tells her. 

She avoids his gaze as she does, tears melting away under his touch. 

“You know what I think?” He cinches the towel at her collar like a cloak. 

She hums. 

“I think we should have popsicles for dessert.” 

Holly meets his eyes then, excitement glimmering underneath the droop of lingering guilt. 

“How does that sound?”

“Good,” she admits meekly. 

A smirk thins his lips. “I dunno though. What if we get a tummy ache?” He pokes her belly through the towel. “Maybe it’s not–”

“No– I want one!”

“I dunnooo,” he sings.

“Please, Stevie! You already said.”

“How bad do you want it? Like this much?” He pinches his fingers together, leaving the slightest gap between them. 

“No, no!” She shakes her head, casting her arms out as far as they’ll go. “This much!” 

He sighs loudly, shoulders sagging for the dramatic touch. “Okay.” 

Holly’s arms curl around his neck as he stands. He’s more than happy to carry her, but the added weight makes him groan. 

You trail behind automatically, half enjoying the show and just as excited for a treat. Steve pins the back door open with his foot, returning a smile you hadn’t realized you were sharing. Your cheeks are starting to protest, sore with overwhelming happiness. 

“What color do you want?” 

“Pink! Pink!” Holly shouts in his ear, loud enough to make you wince. But Steve doesn’t react in the slightest to her volume. You’d all taken a piece of the Upside Down with you after El sealed it up. And just when you seemed to forget it, you’d be reminded in the form of scars, nightmares, headaches, and in Steve’s case, hearing loss. 

He opens the freezer, Holly propped on his hip. She’s far too big to be carried like that comfortably but he does it anyway. 

“Pink for Holly. Red for Steve.” He leans back to find your face. “For you?” 

You purse your lips, “Surprise me.” 

Steve stows Holly on the countertop so he can snip the plastic tips. She receives her popsicle first, then you, and finally Steve. 

“Matching,” Holly observes as you sit beside them on the couch. 

Steve crosses his popsicle over your identically red one when you raise an eyebrow. “Look at that,” he says. 

She hums, gnawing on the plastic wrapper. Steve pushes the ice up for her and thumbs away the dribble at the corner of her mouth. She doesn’t seem to notice, but it catches you off guard. Steve’s such a natural at this you almost can’t believe he’s an only child. 

You turn the TV on to an episode of Care Bears as Holly slumps into Steve’s chest, slurping the last of her slush loudly. 

“Sleepy?” you ask when she kneads her eyes. 

“No.”

You chuckle, combing her frizz back. “Okay.” 

“You know, it’s okay if you are sleepy,” Steve mentions, equally amused. 

“I know. I’m not.” Her tone is casual, a portrait of nonchalance, despite the yawn that slips out afterward. 

You and Steve exchange a look of mutual fondness. 

“I’m pretty tired,” Steve declares, reclining into the cushions with a fake yawn. “I think I’ll take a nap.” 

Holly twists against him to watch. It doesn’t take long for her little fingers to poke and prod his lashline.

He peels one eye open, playfully cocking an eyebrow. 

She giggles and pinches the skin closed. 

You’re trapped between nervously supervising she doesn’t poke his eye out and leaving to get a baby wipe for her hands which you imagine are very sticky with popsicle juice. Either way, you’ll be surprised if Steve doesn’t have pink eye by morning. 

“I’m sleeping,” he whines and headbutts her palm gently. 

“Nooo,” she whines back, wedging her hand across his mouth. Delirium is setting in, a nap is imminent. 

Steve opens his eyes, giddy just the same. “Okay. You got me.” 

Holly frees his mouth to swipe a streak of red from his chin. Her tongue pokes out in prime concentration. 

A staggered laugh of disbelief is shaken from Steve’s chest. He hadn’t expected Holly to be difficult, but she’s been nothing short of delightful. She’s sweeter than Mike and Nancy combined and smarter than he thought kids her age could be. For a self-indulgent second, he hopes that his kids will turn out something like her. 

Holly reels back around to lay on her side, eyelids sagging with an inevitable heaviness. Steve draws the towel up to her chin, fixing his palm to her back. You watch her drift off, eyes slipping up every so often. 

When you’re positive she’s out, you cautiously dislodge the popsicle wrapper from her fingers. Steve passes his as you stand. 

One of the many hard things about kids is all the cleaning. Holly’s as neat as a five-year-old gets, and still, every moment of peace is an opportunity spent putting things back where they belong. You head outside to tip the pool over and collect stray towels and toys that didn’t make it back in. 

By the time you return, Steve’s passed out, mouth ajar, head craned back against the couch. It’s not a particularly attractive expression– he’d probably be embarrassed to wake to your staring– but you can’t find anything other than endearment in yourself.  

You shower and change into fresh clothes and end up on the opposite couch to watch TV. But Care Bears isn’t all that entertaining anymore so you rest your eyes for just a second. 

A second turns to several and when you reopen your eyes you discover the clock is two hours ahead of where it was before. 

The silence is only comforting for a fleeting moment before anxiety creeps in. Your eyes flick from the TV, now powered off, to the other couch where Steve and Holly are not where you left them. Nor are they in the dining room, kitchen, basement, or backyard. You take the stairs two steps at a time and nearly trip over a blanket strewn across the banister when Holly screams. 

You’d have kicked her door off the hinges if it came to it but are thankful it’s already open. Holly is perfectly safe, bent over the remnants of what you assume was a pillow fort. 

You release a breath caught in your throat and sag against the doorframe. Steve offers an apologetic smile when he notices. 

Holly glances over but quickly returns to their game. “You’ve destroyed my kingdom!” she shouts, drilling a finger into Steve’s chest. “Off with your head!” 

You’re too stunned to laugh, but a noise of confusion skips out. Steve gawks at Holly in pretend despair, scrubbing any seeping amusement off his lips with the back of his hand. He’s dressed in sweats, Holly in a princess dress. But more importantly, his face has been caked in makeup and his hair twisted into two fluffy knots. 

“You!” Holly yells with a scowl aimed at you. “Hold him down!” 

Steve pleads at your ankles, pressing his forehead to the carpet in prayer. It takes every ounce of you not to break character and laugh. There’s something so surreal about Steve Harrington, former King of Hawkins High, in sparkly eyeshadow, kneeling before a little girl to beg for his life. It’s hilarious as it is heartwarming. 

“If I may propose a suggestion!” You counter, equally dramatic. “A trade! For this silly man’s life, we will help rebuild your kingdom twice as big! Princess I–” 

“Queen!”

Steve snorts but she must miss it. 

“My apologies. Queen Holly, I can assure you this new Kingdom will have all of the finest luxuries that royalty like yourself might desire.” 

She takes a second to process the big words. “Fine!” She sneers, diving onto her mattress which is absent of all its sheets and blankets. “Chop! Chop!”

You bite your lip, chasing the fervent smile away. Steve gets right to work, sorting pillows from most to least sturdy. You steal another chair from Nancy’s desk and help Steve double-knot the roof to it. It’s no mansion, but it is long enough for Steve to lie down in, which is a job well done in your book. Especially when you’re under strict supervision and listening to a thread of loud critiques. 

You lift the door flap for Holly to crawl through. “Your quarters, Your Grace.” 

She glances over her shoulder with a wicked, but mostly adorable, expression. “My name is not Grace! It’s Holly! Queen Holly to you!” 

The explanation dies on your tongue because how can you possibly argue with that? You’re just grateful to still have your head. 

After the grand tour, Queen Holly disappears into one of the tent’s offshoots with a handful of stuffed animals she's referring to as her royal guards. 

Steve scoots closer, whispering behind his hand, “I think we need to stage a coup.” 

You lean into his good ear, affection spilling off your tone, “I didn’t know she could be so mean.” 

“Me neither! She must be hanging out with Mike.” 

“Must be.” You grin for what feels like the millionth time today. 

You’re sitting knee to knee, close enough to catch the heat of Steve’s breath on your cheek. You drag the pad of your finger across his cheekbone where teal eyeshadow has been caked on in several layers. “I like this,” you compliment. 

I kinda forgot she put that on.” He ducks his head bashfully, peeking up through his eyelashes. “Do I look pretty?” 

“The prettiest.” 

He receives it as teasing, but it’s true, you do think Steve is pretty. A strong nose, kind eyes, and sure, maybe the hair. But now that you’re inches apart, you notice twin smile lines, a series of freckles down his cheek, and a faded scar across his forehead. You linger there more than anywhere else, under the guise of judging Holly’s makeup job, of course. 

But the silence twists into something less comfortable with each passing second. A brief twitch of emotion flickers across Steve’s face, gone before you can name it. “So… pizza for dinner?” he blurts out. 

Before you’ve processed what happened, Holly shouts, “Cheese please!” 

Steve splinters from your gaze, calling back, “Yes, My Queen.” 

Dinner is pleasantly easy. The pizza’s delivered and paper plates save you from the hassle of dishes after. You eat at the kitchen table, sharing stories and smiles, strangely like a family. 

And after dinner, Holly has a bath; and after bath, Steve whisks her off to bed. You’re left to your own devices for once, a benevolent bout of peace, but still, you can’t seem to relax. 

The spray of the bathroom light paves the hall leading to Holly’s room. You tiptoe up to the door and peek inside. 

Steve’s on the floor, slouched against the side of the bed cradling Holly to his chest. He flinches as your shadow veers across the moonlit wall.  

“Sorry,” you whisper, dropping onto your knees beside them. 

Holly picks her head up, tear tracks shimmering as she turns. Her lip wobbles through a whimper. 

You soften like wax near a flame, eyes flitting to Steve who looks equally at a loss. 

She curls her knees into his tummy in a way that probably hurts. The poor thing dissolves into fresh tears, spilling out faster than Steve can chase away. 

“Holls, it’s okay, honey. Me and Stevie are here, okay?” 

She strains to speak through a chain of gasps, “I want my Mommy!” 

“I know, I know. She’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” you steer sweat-slick hair behind her ear. 

“I want her now.” 

“We’ve got ya, Holl,” Steve chimes in. 

“We’re right here.” 

“No– Mommy!” 

It goes like this for a while, soothing reassurances met with unyielding resolve. Holly’s not one to be stubborn for no reason. She’s so exhausted and upset it breaks your heart. You try reading and music and back rubs but there seems to be no end to her sobbing. 

Steve strokes her ankle where it’s now tucked underneath her in your lap. He looks exhausted– hair draped over his forehead like a claw, extra weight embedded in each of his eyelids. You’re both at your breaking point. “You wanna sleep with me tonight Hollybear?” he says in a tone gentler than you’ve ever heard. 

“No. Mommy,” she persists. 

“You can sleep with her when she gets back. But tonight you get to have a sleepover with Steve. Or you can even sleep with me in Nancy’s bed, okay?” 

Red-rimmed eyes flick between you and Steve. Neither option is as good as Mom. 

“Both,” Holly whines. 

“Wanna lay with both of us?” 

She nods. “In the middle.” 

“Okay,” you turn to Steve. ��We can do that.” Your words are colored like a question but he’s already nodding his answer. 

He shovels Holly from your lap, cheek pressing into hers in an unspoken exchange of relief. “Alright, munchkin. Let’s go steal Nancy’s big bed. Sound good?” 

She hums her approval into his ear. 

Steve pokes Nancy’s door open with his foot, swinging around to the tucked side of the bed. You crawl across your end as Holly slides off his chest. She molds herself against your shoulder, tugging Steve closer when he settles. 

“Goodnight, Hollybear,” he says. 

She steals your hand from underneath the comforter, then his where it lies on the sheet. Your knuckles brush Steve’s where they are stapled to her chest. “Goodnight,” she sighs. 

Steve strokes up and down the back of her hand, his touch a quiet catalyst. She’s asleep in mere minutes, snoring softly, fingers limp against yours. 

Steve nudges your hand where it’s already pressed to his, whispering when you turn, “Am I crazy that I find all of this kinda fun?” 

You shake your head, a smile working its way across your lips. “Guess that would make me crazy too.” 

“I know I always complain about driving those little shits around but Holly’s actually really fun to babysit.” 

“Yeah, she is. At least it’s not the end of the world this time, right?”

“Yeah, that probably helps, huh?” Amusement ebbs into a sigh. “I’m kinda dreading going home, to be honest.”

“Why don’t we put Mike in a wig? Kidnap Holly for ourselves.” 

He snorts into his pillow. “Oh, yeah. That’ll work. ‘Yeah, I dunno Mrs. Wheeler, she had a crazy growth spurt while you were gone.’”

“We’d take good care of her.”

“We would,” he nods. “You’re really good with her.” 

“So are you. Kinda surprised me actually.”

“Really? Cause Dustin tells me weekly I’d make a good mother.” 

“Yeah, but they’re different. Older. And don’t get me wrong, you’re great with them and they love hanging out with you. Holly’s just little. You’re so much gentler with her, and like, you always seem to know what to do.” 

“For the record, I have no clue what I’m doing.”

“Me neither. I don't know what Mrs. Wheeler was thinking asking us to do this.”

Intertwined laughter fades, but something else— something similar— lingers. An almost tangible buzz of energy, as if the silence itself is alive with unspoken words. You entertain the idea that the feeling’s not exclusive to just you. That Steve hears the same jitter in his pulse and feels the same flutter against his ribs. That you aren’t alone to be feeling such a way.    

“Is it–” 

“Are we–”

“Sorry, you go,” he jabbers out. 

The words trickle back down your throat, too thick to cross your tongue again. “You can probably go now,” you decide. 

His gaze jumps to Holly’s chest where his hand is still coupled with one of hers. 

“If you want,” you amend. “You don’t have to.” 

“You don't mind? If I stayed?”

You shake your head.

“Just worried she’ll wake up if I move.” 

You try to flatten your excitement as you reply, “You can stay.” 

His gaze swims with yours across Nancy's room, skimming over the cluttered dresser, the desk strewn with books and pens, to the shuttered closet doors.

“Sorry about– you know– I heard Nancy… dumped you,” you say, immediately regretting the awkward phrasing.

“Harsh,” he squints and casts you a bittersweet grin. “But true.”

“Is it… weird? To be in here?” 

“A little. But not as much as I thought it would be. Hell of a lot better than Mike’s room.” 

You hum, watching the gentle shift in his brows. 

“Is it weird for you?” 

“Me?” you ask. “In what way?” 

“You and Nance. You don’t always see eye to eye.” 

“I mean, yeah. When our decisions involve risking our lives– or the kids– she’s pretty damn impulsive. And she can be real stubborn and selfish sometimes too. But I dunno, I still love her. She’s been sort of like a sister since everything started. I think that’s why we argue.” 

“What does that make me? Your brother?” 

You roll your eyes. “No, you’re the stray dog we adopted.” 

“Okay. That’s just mean.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Your laugh laps out louder than you intend, but Holly remains still. “I dunno who you’d be. The love interest?”

“I can work with that, sexy love interest–”

You scoff. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Harrington.” 

“Okay, okay. But love interest because…”

“Cause you dated Nance.”

“Oh,” he exhales. 

“You don’t agree? Should we go back to stray dog?” 

“Oh, shut up. I’m going to bed.” Steve rolls onto his side with a sigh. 

“Keep your snoring to a minimum, please.” 

He grumbles, narrowing his eyes at your smirk. “I don’t snore.”

“You do. I could hear it from here last night.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” you argue. “It definitely wasn’t Holly.” 

“Whatever. Goodnight.” 

“Night.” 

Only when your eyes are closed does his smile finally emerge. It’s silly how quickly you can pull it out of him. It throws him for a loop every time. But with you at his side, maybe he’ll dream of happier things for once. Either way, it’s easier to fall asleep, just knowing you’re there falling asleep too. 

ᯓ★

“Shhhh!” 

“No, you shhhh,” a lighter voice giggles. 

“Holly,” Steve scolds, mirth buttering his tone. You know he’s smiling by the sound alone. 

Holly’s laughter triples in volume but then is abruptly muffled. 

“Ew– did you just lick me?” 

And this all just sounds way too cute to miss out on. You pry your lashes apart, still sticky with sleep, and flip on your side to face them. 

They freeze, eyes widening adorably in sync. Steve is reclined against the headboard, an arm bent behind his neck. Holly is sprawled halfway across his tummy, toes tickling your side. 

“Sorry,” he offers like you’d be mad. But how could you possibly be anything but enamored waking up to their giggly little voices? If you could be woken up like this every day, you would. 

You shake your head, scratching underneath your eyes. The walls are bathed in muted colors, waiting to be warmed by the sunrise. It’s still early. 

Holly rolls off of Steve onto the floor and barrels out of the room. 

“Where are you going?” he shouts. 

“Potty!” 

Steve turns to you, eyes roving across your bedhead for an embarrassingly long amount of time. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“Did she kick you last night?” 

You rake your fingers through your hair, quickly moving them to your lips to stifle a yawn. “Not that I remember.” 

“Oh, you’d remember. Trust me. She was on top of me the whole night.” He’s smiling like an idiot. He couldn’t sound annoyed about it if he tried. 

“Aww, she loves you,” you coo. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, pink dusting his cheeks, “I can’t wait to do this.”

“Hmm?”

“Settle down. Have a family. I wasn’t, like, a hundred percent sure before, but I am now.” 

“You’ll be a good dad.”

He beams at you like he’s just won the lottery. “You think?” 

“For sure.” And he really would. You’re sure of it after last night. 

He opens his mouth to speak but your stomach cuts him off with an obnoxious growl. “Hungry?” Steve chuckles. 

“Shut up.” You swipe your pillow and smack him. 

He smacks you back, pulling it to his chest before you can steal it. “Wanna go out for breakfast?” 

Your brain short circuits. You forget you’re babysitting and not just laying in bed with Steve Harrington for fun. He is not asking you on a date like your heart assumes. 

“Oh, yeah. Sure. For sure,” you sputter out, heat licking up the back of your neck. 

“I’ll go see what she wants,” he slides onto the floor and shakes his legs awake. 

Steve’s tall, even sluggishly slumped over. But even more so as he stretches– arms rising with his shirt, revealing a fraction of golden skin above his waistband. A long, lazy moan climbs out of his chest. 

You push the comforter off before you burst into flames. 

Holly determines she wants IHOP because they put chocolate chips and sprinkles on the pancakes. Steve supplies her with an outfit and wrestles her hair into pigtails with bows to match her skirt. It’s surprisingly coordinated and admittedly cute, but maybe you’re wrong to be so surprised– he knows his way around a comb and a closet. 

“Can I get pancakes?” she asks Steve, perched on the bottom step of the stairs. 

He’s cross-legged on the floor, hunched over to lace her sneakers. “I already told you yes, silly goose.”

“Can I get extra sprinkles?”

“Uhh, does your mom let you?”

She thinks about it before answering. “Yes, I think so.” 

“Sure, then.” He grins, clapping her tied shoes together before standing. 

You shoulder Holly’s bag, stuffed with books and toys and a jacket in case it rains, courtesy of Steve who insisted she might need it. “Ready?” you ask him.

Steve races Holly to the car while you lock up. Mrs. Wheeler installed Holly’s car seat in Steve’s beamer before she left but you’ve yet to use it. 

“It’s too tight,” Holly whines from the car, loud enough to hear from the top of the driveway. 

“I know, ‘m working on it,” Steve assures, working his fingers under the straps. “Just gotta figure it out.”

“Hurry!” 

“I’m hurrying, Holl. Give me a sec’.” 

You open the passenger door and peek around the headrest to view her. The belts are buckled but not tight enough to spark concern. “He’s going as fast as he can, Holly. Be patient.” 

She squirms under his hands, exhaling sharply. And like her, Steve’s frustration mounts, jaw tightening, brow furrowing. His fingers keep slipping and he’s not totally sure which button or strap is for loosening. 

You swing around to Holly’s door and cup Steve’s shoulder. “Let me try.”

He knocks his head on the roof as he pulls out. 

You wince, “Okay?” 

He softens as you reach for his neck, though your fingers never land. Still, the tender look you offer is enough to cure any bumps or bruises he might’ve gotten. 

It’s an unfortunate amount of trial and error before Holly is fastened in properly. Steve cranks the AC on full blast when you finally settle into your seats and circles through radio stations after he backs out. He finds the kid’s station, playing a Muppet’s song that Steve apparently knows every word to. He sings unapologetically loud, a stupid grin sewn to his face. 

When you arrive, Holly happily holds your hand through the parking lot, still clutching tightly as you wait to be seated. She climbs onto your lap to make room on the waiting bench for a woman looking ready to pop out a baby any minute. Steve stands at your other side, arm braced behind your neck. 

“How old is she?” the woman asks you fondly. 

“She’s five,” you return her smile, bouncing your knee. “Right, Holly?”

Holly twists to hide in your neck, nodding. 

“She’s very cute,” she says with such love you already believe her baby is in good hands. “Your sister?” Her eyes flick from yours to Steve who is mostly oblivious to the conversation. 

“No, just babysitting.” 

“Oh, well, you’ll make good parents one day.” 

The comment renders you speechless. It’s not that you hadn’t considered children before, but you hadn’t pictured them with Steve. With his smile, his eyes, his nose. It’s that this woman who doesn’t even know you imagined it before you had. You blink at her stupidly through a forced smile.

Steve squeezes your shoulder, ripping you from your thoughts. “You okay? Table’s ready.” 

You get seated in a booth overlooking the parking lot. 

Holly bends across Steve’s lap to point through the window. “I see our car!” 

“Yeah, that’s her.” 

Holly’s face contorts with confusion. “Her? Your car’s a girl?” 

“Yep–”

The waitress swings over with a handful of menus and a hasty introduction. Steve already knows what he wants and he places Holly’s order after his, making sure to clarify the extra sprinkles when she calls his name repeatedly to remind him. As soon as you decide, the waitress bustles off with the pair of menus to another table. 

Holly slides her paper menu closer, examining each activity. 

Steve picks open the box of crayons, revealing a stingy three– red, green, and blue. “You know, for a multi-million dollar company, you’d think they could afford more than three crayons.”

“And more staff,” you add, eyes tailing another waitress zipping from one table to another. 

Holly points at herself, Steve, and then you, counting, “One, two three. Three crayons for three people.” 

“Yeah, good point,” Steve pats her thigh. “Always the optimist.” 

“Op-ta-nist?”

“Op-ta-mist,” he clarifies. 

She snags the green crayon and presses it to the paper. “What’s that?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth. “Well, it’s like– it’s when you– you’re happy a lot. Grass is always greener on the other side, you know?” 

Steve lost her at the metaphor but she’s too focused on staying inside the lines to care about the definition of optimist anymore. 

“You got there eventually. Sort of,” you tease. 

His foot stabs your ankle under the table. “Shut up.” 

Steve lets Holly win every single round of tic-tac-toe while showering her with praise, convincing her she's a tactical mastermind. You can’t quite tell if she’s onto him, but she’s too busy grinning to say otherwise.

The waitress plants your and Steve’s plates on the table first, reaching behind to scoop Holly’s off her tray next. “And, chocolate chip pancakes with extra sprinkles for the little one.” 

“Thank you,” you manage to say before she leaves to tend to another table flagging her down. “Holly, want syrup?”

“Yes, please.” 

You pour a spiral of maple syrup over Holly’s pancakes. The amount of sugar on her plate might qualify it more as candy than breakfast. And she’s ogling the food like it’ll grow legs and run away. 

“Steve, will you cut them up for her?”

He nods, swallowing a mouthful of scrambled eggs and trading his fork for a knife. As soon as he slides her meal back over, Holly ravages the pancakes, spooning another bite in her mouth before she’s swallowed the last.

The waitress whisks by with drink refills, joy driving her to a smile at the sight of Holly and her half-empty plate. 

“I swear we feed her at home,” Steve chuckles through his own joke. What a dad thing to say. “Can we get some more napkins?” 

And it’s like he knows what’s going to happen. Holly stretches across the table for the syrup bottle, drawing back with an open-mouthed grimace. 

“Uh-oh.” She presses her chin to her chest. There’s a patch of syrup turning the hem of her pink shirt brown. 

“What?” Steve throws a pigtail behind her shoulder so he can see. “Oh. It’s okay.” 

“It was an accident,” Holly explains. 

“I know. It’s okay.” 

“It’s sticky.”

“It’ll wash off.” Steve dunks a clean napkin in his cup of water and dabs it across the stain. 

“It’s too cold,” she complains, pinching the fabric away from her skin. 

“Sorry. It’ll dry. Have to get the syrup out, though.” 

You deliver another wad of napkins to Steve’s hand. He pushes them against her belly, soaking up any excess water. His patience never frays.

Holly looks up, worry etched into her voice, “Will it stain?” 

“I dunno,” you supply truthfully. “We’ll throw it in the wash when we get home.” 

Steve pays the bill with the cash the Wheelers left and scrapes his wallet for change, stacking two quarters on the table when he finds them. “Since you’ve been such a good listener. There’s a sticker machine up front,” he tells Holly. 

Steve might as well have slapped a ticket to Disney World on the table. Holly literally jumps for joy, right out of her seat. She buys a random Lisa Frank sticker and pockets the second coin for her piggy bank. 

It’s Steve’s idea to go to the playground afterward. The park is teeming with life, the kind of chaos that only a weekend morning can bring. Swings creak under the weight of eager kids, and the monkey bars have their own traffic jam. Parents wrap the playground like a barricade, their chatter drowned out by laughter and shouts. But the heat presses down ruthlessly, making every step feel like you’re wading through a sauna.

Holly tears away from Steve’s hand as soon as her shoes hit the mulch, rejoicing in her newfound freedom with a little skip. She races up a set of stairs to wait for a turn on the tallest slide. 

“Should’ve brought sunscreen,” Steve says, eyes following Holly down the slide. She flashes you both a prideful smile from the bottom. 

“She’ll survive. We won’t stay long. It’s too hot.” You pull your shirt out to fan your chest, dabbing the sweat beading at your sternum. 

“Careful!” he shouts as she hops from one platform to the next. She continues to bounce along the path, one wobbly leap at a time. A particularly long jump has Steve cringing. He’s trying really hard not to be overanxious and it’s as sweet as it is amusing. 

He side-eyes your grin with an opposing frown. You don’t even have to say anything for him to know you’re teasing him. “What?” 

You shrug, smile doubling. “You.”

“What about me?” 

“You’re just funny.” 

“My concern is funny to you?” he accuses. 

“She’s fine, Steve.” 

He makes a noise of disagreement, arms crossed and a hip popped out dramatically far. You see why Dustin teases him for being motherly. 

Holly struggles with the monkey bars. She makes it halfway across before her arms start to shake and her hands slip. Steve lunges forward as he watches her plummet to the ground. But before he can swoop in, Holly pops up, dusts the dirt from her skirt with a nonchalant shrug, and marches on, completely unfazed. 

“See. She’s fine,” you reassure.

“Whatever,” Steve grumbles, strolling away to sulk in private. 

He makes a slow lap around the playground, hands planted firmly on his hips, casting a critical eye over the chaos. Meanwhile, you snag a spot on a bench, where most parents are engrossed in magazines or gossip, blissfully detached. You watch Steve get roped into playing a monster, though you can tell he secretly loves it. 

It doesn’t take long for him to start stomping around, roaring and growling, chasing the kids as they shriek and scatter. And when they finally tire him out, he collapses beside you, his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and his breath coming in ragged bursts. 

“I told her five more minutes,” he says, stretching an arm across the back of the bench behind you. His curls shine honeycomb gold in the spray of sunlight and his skin echoes the warmth of desert sand, softened pink like the blush of sunset. He looks strikingly gorgeous sprawled out beside you. 

Holly trots over not much later, alarmingly upset. 

You sit up, urgently shaking Steve’s thigh to grab his attention. “What happened, honey?” 

“I– I was,” she sucks in a staggered breath, “I was climbing the stairs and– and a boy, he pushed me.” Twin rivulets of tears are unleashed with a blink, converging at the curve of her chin. 

You scan her from head to toe. Nothing looks broken or bloody. “Are you hurt?” 

“No,” she strains. 

You drag her into your chest, pressing a loving cheek to her ear. “Did it scare you?” 

She nods, hiccuping into your neck. 

“I’m sorry, Holly. That wasn’t nice at all.” 

Steve’s gaze shifts between Holly and the playground to search for guilty suspects. He finds none, thankfully, though he’s still itching to wring out whatever parent it is not watching their kid– which is unfortunately most of them.

“Let me see,” he coaxes Holly over for his own checkup. He picks a piece of mulch from her hair and flicks off another stamped into her calf. “Think you’ll make it? Should we call an ambulance?” 

She doesn’t smile at his joke like you hope. 

“Ready to go home?” you ask.

She sniffs into her sleeve. “Yeah.” 

“Alright.” Steve hoists her up as he stands. Holly's long legs wrap around his waist, feet swaying against his thighs as he walks. 

Holly naps on the way home, not by choice but by sheer exhaustion. She convinces herself she didn’t actually fall asleep when she wakes up in the driveway, swearing, “I just closed my eyes.” 

But it’s quickly apparent that twenty minutes was not enough. She cries because her leftover pizza for lunch is cold in the middle and again when she rubs the sauce in her eye. You turn on a movie, hoping to induce another nap, but The Aristocats is just too good to sleep through. Thankfully, her grumpiness wanes into a more manageable pout, her arms uncrossing to snuggle closer to you on the couch.

When the movie ends, she slinks up, her departure leaving your lap cold. After a long-winded debate about what to do, you all finally agree on playing a board game. Steve steers Holly downstairs to pick one out and she returns with a rekindled excitement, dropping the game Twister at your feet. 

There’s nothing inherently wrong with Twister, but you were expecting something easier. Candy Land or Chutes and Ladders. So you let Steve and Holly go first. The round ends in a heap of tangled limbs and giggles, a winner unclear. But Holly wins the match against you, admittedly fair and square. And it’s all fun and games until she insists you and Steve must compete. 

“Ehh, Holly. My arms are tired,” you reason. 

“But I wanna be the referee too,” she whines. “Pleaseee!” 

Steve shrugs at you, a playful little curve to his lips. If you say no, that makes only you the bad guy. And you just can’t bring yourself to break Holly’s heart over something so simple. 

“Okay,” you sigh, ignoring the nervous tick in your chest. 

Holly pushes you by the hips onto the mat to stand opposite Steve. She gets situated on the floor and excitedly flicks the spinner, calling, “Left foot. Blue!” 

You each step toward a blue dot. Easy. 

“Right foot on green.” 

Right foot, green. You’re shoulder to shoulder now, hips angled toward his. 

“Right hand… yellow!” 

“Here we go,” you mumble, bending down to reach yellow. “Okay.” 

Steve chuckles and follows suit, free hand hovering awkwardly behind your shoulder. 

You twist your head until you can’t, just to see the stupid look on his face. “You know, your long legs really give you an unfair advantage here.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser,” he chides, hot breath fanning the back of your already hot neck. 

“Don’t speak so soon, Harrington. You’re the one who’s gonna lose.” 

“Right hand, red,” Holly announces. 

You lean back toward red, headbutting Steve’s side so you don’t fall. He curls into position next, swaying until his back pocket is inches from your nose. 

“Oh my God, Steve. Get your butt out of my face!” You’d shove him if you had an extra hand. 

Holly giggles in that contagious way kids laugh, automatically pulling one from Steve. 

“Don’t make me laugh. If I go down, so are you,” he reminds you. 

“Umm, left foot green,” Holly says. 

Steve groans dramatically, whining. “What! Holly, that’s impossible. Spin again.” 

She cackles, reminiscent of Queen Holly. “Nope, you have to! That’s the rules!”

And somehow, you both make it to green without knocking each other over. But you’re getting distracted– Steve’s hand has brushed your calf three times now and his shirt is loose, hanging off his chest in a way that gives you a clear view of his tummy. This might as well be sabotage. You tear your eyes away. You must focus. You didn’t care much for winning before, but something about Steve brings out your competitive side. 

“Right hand, green.” 

You bow your knee until it’s wedged uncomfortably into your ribcage so you can reach the green. Your thighs quickly begin to ache. You won’t last much longer in this position. Especially not when Steve arches over you like a human bridge, the zipper of his jeans tickling your back where your shirt has scrunched up. 

He shakes his hair out of the way so he can see you, albeit upside down. His smile stretches wide, radiating pure, unfiltered joy. He’s having the time of his life, and admittedly, so are you. 

Your elbow juts out, nearly giving under the weight of his gaze alone. But you snap it back in place and practically beg Holly, “Spin.” 

“Left foot blue!”

You and Steve lunge for the same blue circle. His sock slides against the tarp, leg extending much farther than he’s prepared for. His arm buckles, chest slamming down against your back. Your elbows give out immediately under the force of his weight, jaw slamming into the floor. 

“Shit, sorry! You okay?” 

A burst of laughter tumbles out of your mouth before you can answer. But maybe it���s an answer in itself. Your chin stings but you're fine. Better than fine, even. 

As soon as Steve scrambles off of you, you flip onto your back. His eyes trickle down you in assessment, eyebrows knitting together, mouth twitching like it can’t decide whether to frown or smile. 

“I’m okay,” you manage, smiley and breathless. 

“Did you hit your face?”

“Just my chin.” 

He reaches for your face with hesitant fingers. “Sorry.”

You shake your head, bolstering his wrist as he cups your chin. “I definitely won.” 

And just like that, all his worry washes away. He pries your hand from his wrist, wrenching you up to sit. “Technically, you hit the floor first.” 

You glance over to Holly for her professional referee’s opinion but find she’s no longer there. “Where’s–”

“I found it!” she yells from the upstairs. What exactly she found, you’ve no idea. But she comes stomping down the stairs not a minute later with a little box in her hands. Bandaids, you realize, as she dumps the contents on the twister mat beside you. “They’re Hello Kitty,” she says, stripping the paper backing off of one. 

You let her little fingers stamp it to the curve of your chin. It’s not bleeding, nor does it really hurt that bad, but the gesture is sweet enough to melt your heart. “Thank you, Holly. You’re so gentle. You should be a candy striper.” 

“I don’t think I’m old enough.”

“When you’re older then.”

Steve decides Twister is far too dangerous to keep playing, but Holly demands a game of Mouse Trap so it works out. Steve wins, despite you and Holly’s strategic alliance halfway through. And by then, she’s asked about dinner twice so you shelve the rest of the games and head up to the kitchen to decide together. 

Holly hums into the freezer, “Chicken nuggets… pizza rolls– oh! Eggos, can we have Eggos?” 

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, peering over her, “Why don’t we cook something? We could have a fancy dinner. Like a dinner party.”

“Can we dress up?”

“Sure,” he shrugs, flipping a pack of ground beef over. 

“Pasta?” you call from the pantry.

“Ooh, yeah. Let’s do that.”

Holly sprints upstairs for a costume, much more interested in the party than the dinner. You pull a box of noodles and an unopened jar of sauce from the shelf while Steve grabs a pot from the cabinet and sticks it under the faucet. 

“Careful. Stove’s on,” you announce, flicking the dial on high. 

Steve backs up from the sink slowly, water sloshing over the side of the pot when he bumps the table. 

“Steve,” you chuckle, pulling a dish towel from the oven handle, “It doesn’t need to be that full.” 

“No?” 

“No, dump like, half of that out.” 

He nods, pouring some out and depositing the rest over the stove. “I’m gonna be honest, I’ve never made pasta before.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed,” you quip, elbowing his side with the box of noodles in hand. “Pour these in?”

He takes the box and gives it a good shake. “How much?” 

“Maybe half? Little more?” 

He tips it over the water, snapping it back up when much more than half slides out. “Oops.” 

“It’s okay.” You chuck a few stray pieces from the counter into the pot. “Everyone’s getting seconds tonight. What do you like in your pasta?” 

“Sauce?” 

The laugh fizzles out in your throat as you realize he’s not making a joke. “Besides sauce. Cheese? Meat? Spices?” 

“Oh, uhh, I’m not sure.” Steve scratches the back of his neck, hand retracting to fidget with the hem of his shirt. He’s antsy, clearly nervous. Maybe embarrassed of his cooking knowledge, or rather, lack of it. Or perhaps afraid the pasta will end up something like the first set of grilled cheeses. 

“We’ll keep it simple then. Holly probably won’t like it too fancy anyway.” 

Steve nervously watches the water bubble, foam climbing up the sides. “Do you like garlic bread? Saw some in the freezer.” 

You fish the box out and line a pan with three pieces. And with bread in the oven and the pasta starting to boil, you hop on the counter to wait.  

“How long does it take?” Steve asks.

“Not long.” 

You open the drawer beside your legs and find a big wooden spoon. Lucky guess. “Here. Stir.” 

His eyes follow the ladle, stirring with steady hands. It’s a peaceful quiet, his focus unusually soft. Not the urgent, fate of his life kind of determination you’re used to seeing. 

When it’s ready, you pinch the spoon’s neck, fingertips sweeping his for the half a second before he lets go. “Now we strain the water. Then we can add the sauce.” 

You find a strainer and plant it in the sink while Steve carries the pot over and pours. He sets it back on the stove, per your orders, and offers a hand when you struggle with the sauce lid. 

He pins the jar against his chest, knuckles straining white in several attempts to twist the cap. But it pops off after a good shake, spraying sauce across your cheek, and spinning to the floor like a frisbee. 

Steve freezes, gawking at your face with a stupid smile. 

“Steve!” You scoop up a dish towel and smack his arm. 

He throws his hands up and turns a shoulder to you. “I didn’t mean to,” he snickers. 

“Don’t laugh! I’ll pour that whole jar over your head.” 

He doesn’t buy your threat one bit, still laughing as he sets the jar down and steals the towel from your hands. “I’ll get it. Sit still.” 

You summon the most menacing glare you can manage while suppressing a smile. He presses the towel to your cheek, thumb gliding across your skin as he wipes the sauce in one languid motion. His eyes flick down to your lips and you’re positive you aren’t imagining it. 

But you’re sweating and your stomach is churning and– “The pasta!” You ram into Steve’s shoulder trying to get by, rushing to turn the stove temperature down. 

Steve whisks up behind you to see the food. “Is it burnt?” 

“No, no. It should be fine.” You scrape the ladle under the bottom layer of noodles. “Pass me the sauce?”

You avoid his eyes as you take it. Was he going to kiss you? Maybe just thinking about it? Or perhaps there was just sauce near your mouth and you’re spiraling over absolutely nothing. 

You toss the food in sauce and divide it into three plates silently. 

“Holly! Food’s ready,” Steve shouts as he fixes the table with napkins and silverware. 

She clambers down the steps in a tutu and a cardigan that you’re pretty sure is Nancy’s. Her smile drops. “Where are your clothes?” 

Steve looks down at his sweats. “Holly, I think we’ll just–”

“Please, Stevie. It’s a dinner party, remember?” 

His eyes dart to you, though you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “One sec.”

He swings back into the kitchen wearing a tweed suit jacket, a silky, black one draped over his arm. His is a few sizes too big, shoulder pads drooping down his biceps, and the sleeves swallowing his hands. He pushes the fabric up his elbows to hand you the other jacket. “For you.” 

“Thanks,” you deadpan. It comes off less sarcastic than you aim for. 

Holly and Steve adopt similar grins as you slip the jacket on. “You look dashing,” she compliments. 

“Very,” Steve agrees, taking a seat beside you. 

You spend the rest of dinner internally debating whether he’s flirting or just indulging in Holly’s playful antics. The uncertainty makes your stomach flip, and suddenly you aren’t so hungry anymore. 

After the dinner party concludes, it’s Holly’s suggestion to go for a walk. She wheels her bike out of the garage, fitted with a set of training wheels and a handlebar bursting with tinsel. A yawn rolls off her tongue as she launches down the driveway. It raises your hopes for a smoother bedtime tonight. 

Even as the horizon melts into the Earth, the summer heat clings like a heavy hand. Trees project long shadows along the road, eating what’s left of the sunlight. Bugs buzz and birds chirp, but a sleepy stillness is ubiquitous. 

“What?” you ask suddenly, whipping your head to face Steve. He’s drenched in gold, pale wisps of hair riding the breeze as he strolls. 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You’re staring at me. I feel it.” 

“I wasn’t,” he assures. 

You blink at him. You can’t decide whether to be annoyed at such an obvious lie or embarrassed by the truth. 

He jogs ahead before you’ve come up with something to say. Halfway to Holly, he shouts, “Come on, slowpoke!” 

It only takes one loop around the block for the heat to catch up. Holly complains incessantly about her helmet strap being too tight even after Steve fixes it and you’re itchy from sweat and mosquito bites. Steve’s, well, he might be the only content one. Happy even, guiding you home with a subtle bend to his lips and a soft glow tinting his cheeks. 

Holly whines about having to take a bath, and while you might negotiate it another night, you can see the damp line down her back. But like you suspect, all grievances are forgotten the second she gets in. She likes playing in the bath, even if she forgets it. It’s where she keeps her mermaid Barbie and her collection of rubber ducks, coincidentally all named Bob. 

And while bath time might tend to feel like more of a chore as a babysitter, tonight is different. It’s your last night at the Wheelers, and while that’s not new information, it is startlingly sad. You aren’t irritated when she splashes water in your eye or when she leaves a trail of it down the hall for you to clean. You can’t be, not when you know you’ll miss it. 

Steve helps you tuck Holly into Nancy’s bed. After pinky swearing that you’ll both return at your own bedtime, she drifts off easily. You’re thankful, of course, but a piece of you secretly hoped to be needed longer.  

“Must’ve been tired,” Steve whispers, pushing slowly off the bed. “You okay?” 

You nod, tearing your eyes from Holly to meet Steve’s. “Kinda sad.” You shrug, murmuring, “Stupid.” 

“It’s not.” He cups your shoulder and runs a warm hand up and down your arm. “Come on.” 

You take his hand and let him lead you across the hall and down the stairs. He pulls you onto the couch so you land pressed into the same cushion he’s on. “Y’know, babysitting Holly’s a breeze compared to the usual shitheads. We don’t have to worry about her taking my car keys or fighting interdimensional monsters or summoning a gate to hell,” he says. 

A soft laugh parts your lips. “Think Holly will put in a good word for us with her parents?” 

“You kidding? She loves us. Especially me,” he jokes. “Hate to break it to you but I’m definitely her favorite.” 

“No, you are not. Shut up.” 

He catches your fist mid-punch, cradling your hand like it’s made of wet sand. His thumb crosses each divot between your fingers, stroking up and down your knuckle slowly. “I’m sure they’ll ask us to babysit her again at some point.”

You hum in agreement. 

“Besides, we could expand our horizons. There’s like a million other children in Hawkins that need babysitting.” 

Your smile spills into your cheeks. “We?” 

“Yeah, I think we make a pretty damn good team. Don’t you?” 

“I do, but… we don’t have to limit our interactions to just babysitting, you know?” 

“What are you thinking? Dinner and a movie? Next weekend?” His eyes flick from your fingers to your face– to each eye, sweeping down the center of your nose, stopping right at your lips. 

You turn away in an attempt to soothe your heart as it pounds up to your ears. “Smooth, Harrington.” 

He reels you back in gently by the arm, confidence shining through his smile.“What? Did I read this wrong?” He knows he didn’t, he’s teasing you. 

“No,” you mumble, “You didn’t.” 

He leans in to whisper, “Can I kiss you then?” 

You nod, pushing into the soft press of his lips with your own. He’s not hesitant, nor is he harsh. Steve knows how to kiss, that much is clear. He trades your hand for your cheek, gently tilting your face to the side as he pulls away. 

Your eyes flutter open to a doting gaze. One that travels down the lines and slopes of your neck like they’re made of candy. Steve plants a second kiss on your lips, though fleeting in comparison to the first. But he plants several more to make up for it, working his way in a Z down your cheek, across your jaw, and back down your neck. They’re quick, ticklish little pecks of affection. A sweetness if you ever knew it. 

“Steve,” you admonish, though giggles betray your tone. The hands that frame his face glide gently down to his throat, your thumbs meeting at his Adam's apple. “We’re babysitting.” 

“I know,” he says, kissing your lips for a third time. “Just had to get a few extra in there. For all the times I thought about kissing you this weekend.” 

“Don’t say that.”

“Why?” He laughs, bubbly like you’ve surprised him. “It’s true. I thought about it all weekend.” 

You don’t know why you ask– why you even thought of it at a time like this– but you question him, “What about Nance?” 

“What about her?” 

“You don’t…” you trail off, afraid to even speak the possibility into existence. 

“We’re done. We have been. For a lot longer than I was willing to admit,” he admits honestly. 

“Yeah, but do you–”

“I don’t. Still have feelings for her. Not like that, anyway.” 

You meet his eyes, feeling a strange blend of emotions you can’t quite name.

“If you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to let me prove it to you,” he holds your gaze, warm with a sincerity that makes it hard to doubt him. 

“I believe you.” 

You let Steve kiss you several more times on that couch. He’s patient, deliberate, and more kind than you ever imagined he’d be. It’s hard to understand why Nancy would ever let someone like that go. 

ᯓ★

On Monday morning, you blink awake first, the comforting weight of a hand that’s not yours across your hip and another, much lighter one, at your belly. You turn over slowly, finding Steve and Holly wrapped around each other like ivy on trellis. You don’t imagine many people look this pretty asleep. The comb of long lashes kissing the soft flush in his cheeks. The golden lather of sunrise in each wild swoop of hair. The way his lips part for a sigh cuter than you knew one could be. 

He mumbles something unintelligible, sleep talk perhaps. 

You whisper back anyway, “What?” 

Steve sighs, smearing his cheek against the pillow. “Being a creeper.” 

“Me?” 

“Mhmm.” One eye slowly unbinds itself from sleep. Steve adores the tight-lipped smile on your face, broad with an infatuation he forgot could be aimed at him. His hand twitches at your side. 

“You just look so pretty when you sleep,” you admit. Is it too soon to say such things? 

His eye closes as he smiles, nosing into Holly’s hair, selfishly keeping it to himself. You reach across her body to find it, swiping a loving finger across his lips when you do. 

You stay in bed for as long as Holly will allow– which is not very long after she wakes up– but you don’t mind. You watch fondly as Steve helps her brush her teeth and as she helps Steve toast and butter the Eggos. Like Steve, Holly’s a good kid. They’re both helpers at heart. 

And you’re sure to remind Mrs. Wheeler of that when she rings the house to let you know they’re almost home. Holly’s excitement quickly dwindles into sadness the moment she realizes you won’t be staying. But she uses it to bargain one final game of hide and seek before you go. 

“Come on.” Steve drags you by the wrist, bustling upstairs to the bathroom. He throws the shower curtain aside and jumps in, offering his hand to help you after. You sit scrunched together, knee to knee on the porcelain floor, giggling like children. 

“Shhh,” you squeeze his kneecap. “You’re gonna get us found.” 

He jostles your shoulder, mouth agape. “You’re the one who’s laughing!” 

“No,” you insist, though the light in your eyes suggests otherwise. Curiosity sparks and the irrepressible urge to act on it wins. You lean in for a kiss, confirming that’s all it takes to shut Steve up. 

He tastes like maple syrup, loving with his lips as much as his hands. He pulls back for breath and returns for another peck, pressing into the corner of your mouth where your smile keeps drawing higher and higher. 

“Hard to kiss you when you're smiling.” 

“Can’t help it,” you defend. “Never been so happy.” 

He softens like warm icing, a sweet and gooey mess in your arms. But the shake of the front door closing stiffens him. 

“Mommy!” you hear quickly after. 

Steve scrambles up and over the lip of the tub, tugging you out with him. You follow him downstairs where Mrs. Wheeler swings Holly in her arms like she’s much smaller than she really is. Mr. Wheeler steers a suitcase silently through the entryway. 

“Did you have so much fun?” she asks Holly, peppering kisses across her temple. “Ohh, I missed you!” 

Holly revels in the affection overload, bending backward to giggle at you and Steve. 

Mrs. Wheeler grins. “How was she?” 

“Great, as always,” Steve assures. His cheeks are flushed, his hair mussed— though you could chalk that up to bedhead, not the aftermath of your short-lived makeout session.

You nod, adding, “We went swimming and to the park and–”

“IHOP!” Holly yells. “I got pancakes with chocolate chips and extra sprinkles!” 

“Did you? Sounds like you had a lot of fun.” Mrs. Wheeler plants Holly on her feet. “Can you give hugs? Say thank you for being such good babysitters?” 

Holly launches herself at Steve. He sends you a smirk over her shoulder, rocking her side to side in his embrace. You can just hear him say, I told you so. 

But she offers the same enthusiasm and more for you, dragging you onto the floor for a proper goodbye hug. “I don’t want you to go,” she pouts in your ear. 

“We’ll come back. We can have playdates?” 

“Can’t you just live in Nancy’s room? She’s never here anyway.” 

You can’t help but laugh. “I wish I could,” you admit honestly. 

She reluctantly loosens her grip on your shirt when you peel away. 

Mrs. Wheeler sees you and Steve off with a warm smile. Holly darts through her mother’s legs for one final hug on the porch. You wave goodbye, the moment slipping into something bittersweet before Steve bumps his shoulder into yours, a playful grin softening the farewell.

You dawdle up to your car, wringing your hands together when you reach the door. “So.”

“So,” he parrots. 

“This weekend, right?” 

His smirk blooms into a full smile. “Friday? Pick you up at seven?” 

“Okay,” you nod. 

“Okay,” he chuckles, clipping a hand around your jaw and leaning in. 

You turn away so the kiss skips across the softest stretch of your cheek. “Steve.” 

His eyes never leave your face as he assures you, “They’re not looking.” 

“Don’t be so sure.” 

Holly waves at you through the living room window, a smile as wide as her face. Steve’s hand falls down to his side and he takes a platonic step back. You both return her goodbye, but Holly stays, her little hand pressed to the glass. 

“Think she’ll tell?” Steve asks, not an ounce of worry in his tone. 

You shrug, tugging him back in by the waist for a proper kiss. “I guess it wouldn't be the end of the world.” 

[dirtyyoungthingg]

i hear you coming up the stairs and quickly try to put out the joint i was smoking. you open my door. “hey, i was just gonna— …why does it smell like pot in here.” i try to hide the joint behind my back and shrug. your brow furrows and you quickly reach behind me to grab my wrist and wrench it back towards you. you grab it from my hand. “where the hell did you get that, huh?”

“a friend at school… i just wanted to try it. i was curious.” you squint and roll the joint between your fingers.

“curious, huh?” you move to place it back between my lips. “go on. have some more.”

“dad, i—“

“listen to your father.” you grab a lighter from your pocket and light the end as I inhale. i blow the smoke back out and cough. you cant help but laugh. “good girl. more.” i try to shake my head but you force the joint back in my mouth; i cant help but take another hit. my head is swimming at this point, after all, its my first time smoking and i’m such a lightweight. i hand you the rest of the joint and i cant help but stumble a little. “aww. you okay, princess? feeling a little dizzy?”

“uh-huh.”

“why dont you sit down, hm? here, i’ll help.”

you push me down onto my bed, the force of which sends me onto my back so that im laying down rather than sitting. “there you go.” as you settle down next to me, you can see that my nipples are straining through my shirt. “oh baby, are you a little cold?”

“wh…huh? what do you mean?” rather than answer me, you reach up to tweak my nipple a little. i gasp and arch my back. “d-dad, stop—“

“shut up.” you pinch a little harder and i can’t help but squeal as i try to fight you off. i’m too high to properly do that though, and you quickly pin my wrists above my head. you move to straddle me, forcing my legs apart with your knee.

“dad, p-please—!”

“you wanted to see what happens when you smoke. this is what happens. you get too baked and cant fight your dad off while he touches you.” you move to bite my neck as your hand slides up my shirt to grope my chest. “god, youre so soft. such a pretty and soft little girl.” you gently kiss the mark your teeth left. i try to struggle again, to get out of your grasp, but my body feels too heavy, like im under water. “shhshh, stay still. you’ve been a bad girl. you don’t wanna keep being a bad girl, right?” i shake my head no. “that’s right. you wanna be a good girl, right?” i nod. “hehe, that’s right! good job baby, you’re already being such a good girl. keep it up.”

you shove your hand down my pants and start rubbing my clit. i gasp and whine. “d-daddy…!”

“thaaat’s it, baby. stop struggling, just give in. you wanna make it up to daddy, right baby? then just staaay still.” your fingers slide down to the entrance of my young little cunt and slip inside. “god, sweetheart, you’re so wet already. is it the weed? or do you just love your father touching you that much?” my face turns bright red and i try to turn my head out of embarrassment. “aww baby, you’re so cute when you get embarrassed. that’s okay. no one needs to know you love this. no one besides you and me; our little secret.”

i turn to look at you again, shyly. “…y…you promise? …our little secret?”

you press a kiss to my lips. “i promise, princess. now just lay back, enjoy your high, and let daddy play with you.”

“yes, daddy.”

[bbyseok]

expanding on this post, where you kiss gojo and he starts floating

gojo satoru x gn!reader

you’re greeted with the light of dawn streaming in, and the tickle of white tufts of hair against your chin. satoru’s body is curled close, one of his arms and his legs thrown over you.

it’s not the first time you’ve stayed overnight in gojo’s dorm room, but this is your first time staying over now that you’re a couple. it had been like any other night, but more meaningful touches and a shared buzz of warmth in your chests. and you had fallen asleep in his bed, entangled with his coziness.

but it’s morning now, and you know you should probably leave before yaga finds out you’re not in your own dorm. so somehow, you manage to wring yourself free from satoru’s grasp, even though he mumbles sleepily in complaint.

you can’t help but scoff fondly, peering down at him. his hands feel around in the space you had just been, a groan resonating from his chest as he blearily squints.

a small laugh creeps out of you then, “g’morning, ‘toru.” you bend down to brush your lips against his fleetingly, “i’ll see you in class later.”

when you leave his dorm and hear a soft ‘thud’, you think nothing of it. but it’s only a few steps down the hallway that you realize that you left your uniform jacket hanging on the edge of satoru’s bed.

so you head back, knocking twice on the door to let him know about your presence before opening it.

only to see that your boyfriend that you had left on the bed just moments ago was no where to be seen.

your brows furrow. “satoru? where are you?”

“up here, darling.”

and then your gaze flits up, up, up, just above the mattress. it’s gojo, on the ceiling, looking disheveled with his bed hair a mess, a sheepish grin on his lips.

“uhh, satoru?” you approach the bed, no longer concerned about your jacket as you stare up at him. “what’re you doing up there?”

he blinks down at you. “i woke up.”

you snort. “get down.”

“…i can’t.”

there’s a pause of silence, a period of staring at each other. you’re even more confused. “what do you mean you can’t?”

“i just can’t!”

it’s too early for this, and you’re sure that your chance of being discovered by yaga has shot up by a considerable amount.

“gojo satoru. just deactivate your technique.”

he pouts down at you. “you don’t think i tried that? i don’t know what happened, okay? i woke up from head-butting the ceiling, and even worse, to you gone without a word!”

it’s funny, how he’s much more upset about the fact that you had left him in bed alone rather than the fact that he’s stuck up there.

and it’s also really funny that he was sleepy enough that he didn’t remember you kissing him farewell not even five minutes ago.

“‘toru,” you laugh, shaking your head, “i said good morning and i kissed you.”

aaand now he remembers. he blinks once, twice.

“oh.”

and this time, you burst into a fit of giggles, to which gojo dopily grins down at you — happy that he’s the cause of it, even if it’s because he’s a little silly.

“i can’t believe you still floated even with you still half asleep.” you say, inching even closer to the bed and tilting your head further back to look up at him. “can you seriously not come back down?”

usually after he gets kissed, you or someone else is there to ground him before he floats off, and if not, he regains his composure soon after.

satoru’s pout deepens, fumbling and adjusting his awkward position on the ceiling. “nope.”

with a groan, you toe off your shoes and move to stand on the bed, hands grasping at his shirt and tugging in an attempt to bring him down.

“ugh, come on.”

you try with his hands next, and he’s all too eager to twine your fingers together as you tug on them too. he still isn’t budging.

“babe..” he starts, and you hear his cheeky grin before you see it, “think you needa kiss me again.”

you give him a pointed look. “and why in the world would that work?”

“c’mon, trust me,” satoru pries with a slight whine, “you did this, maybe you can undo it.”

you blink at him incredulously. “i did this? it’s not my fault you turn into a balloon every time i-” you shake your head when he does nothing but stare pleadingly. “fine, fine.”

you lean up on wobbly toes to give him the second kiss of this morning. it’s short but sweet all the same, and gojo chases after your lips as you pull away.

“see, i told you it wouldn-”

satoru yelps and crashes down on top of you, the two of you landing smack down on the bed.

you groan, trapped underneath his weight. at least you know now to be extra careful with your kisses. you can feel him nosing at the underside of your jaw teasingly.

“heh, good morning to you too, sweetheart.”

[chososdiscordkitten]

Just A Taste.

Synopsis: Gojo wants to taste readers breast milk •⩊•

Pairing: Gojo xFem!Reader Content: some plot, mostly nasty stuff, no penetrative sex, nursing handjob, ADULT NURSING, he tries to convince reader to let him suck a lil sum, gojo being weird, mentions he didn't have a mom, BREASTFEEDING, mommy kink if you squint, PREGNANCY KINK, whiny satoru, overall just a lot of nipple and breast play

Dedicated to: @busyreader17 , my beloved for hyping me up to write this, ty<;33

(a.n) why do I only ever write about gojo being a pregnancy freak? has to be studied. wrote this listening to very dramatic classical music

MDNI

Gojo has always been hard headed, never thinking twice on talking back or starting an argument just to prove he was right. And that little quirk about him only enhanced when his child was born.

Even if you were the one who spent countless hours in the emergency room trying to give birth to his big headed child- Satoru insisted that he knew best for his offspring. And in extension- he knew what was best for you. 

“Formula isn't good enough for my child.” he retorted when you mentioned how painful it was to breastfeed his gnawing child.

And when you'd bring up that you were ready to start working again- “You don't have to work- that's why you have me.” 

Little by little Gojo started dictating most of the aspects of your life. There was little to no resistance from you though- you didn't mind his overbearing fatherly tendencies when it came to protecting his family.

But there was one thing, just one thing you'd complain about if you could.

As stubborn as Satoru was in day to day life- he was equally, if not more stubborn in bed. Especially in one specific area.

Gojo begged. Begged on his knees as he watched you pump. Sitting on the couch and bouncing your knee as his hands held onto your calf, “I just want to taste-” he pouted, eyebrows pinched upwards. 

“Satoru.” you gritted through your teeth- hearing the whirr of the machine on your chest. He sighed as he placed his forehead to your knee, mumbling something about how mean you were to him.

This newfound need to taste the milk from your breasts was mildly irritating, not being able to take your shirt off without his eyes prying- parting his lips before asking again.  

Satoru would be lying if he said that anytime your breasts would leak against his chest midway through fucking- it didn’t take every ounce of strength he had to not trail his lips down to your puffy nipple. 

So, so, very tempting. But he'd refrain from acting on his urges, knowing you'd probably shake him off or tell him to stop completely. So instead of doing it without your permission, he settled on asking you anytime he could. 

At first you thought this was just him wanting to know what it tasted like, but when you offered him a small sip from a cup he said- “If i'm gonna drink it, I want it straight from the source.” to which you said, “I guess you're never gonna taste it then.” before tossing the small sip down the sink. 

He must've asked 3 times a day. Gojo needed it so bad- he would beg on his knees at your feet, looking up at you like an abused puppy that you were being far too cruel to.

And you always said no. 

But, your objections sounded like ‘maybe one day’ to his ears. 

So one very early morning, 4 maybe 5 am- you were standing at the kitchen counter, holding the little pumping machine to your right breast as your face churned with a grimace. Your nipples were sore, from the machine sucking harshly and from how often you had to do it.

You had just started filling one of the little bottles, and as though Gojo knew what you were doing, he walked in. Squinting at you, almost asking what you were doing at this hour- till his eyes landed on your breasts you didn't bother to cover. “Go back to sleep, I'll be done soon.” you muttered in a groggy voice as the whirring woke Satoru up from the hazy state he was in. 

He took a few steps towards you- resting his elbows on the counter as he watched the machine milk you. Jealous that a stupid machine had the right to and he didn't. 

The sun not even breaching the skyline made the room dim and dusky. 

You didn't mind if he watched- but that's all you'd ever grant him. But directly after sex- when his chest would be drippng with the light cream colored liquid that leaked from your breasts while he fucked you- and as he looked down to his sculped body in the bathroom, the sink running on a hand towel as you waited for him to come back to help clean you up.

His fingers couldn't help but swipe at the liquid before placing it on his tongue. The whisper of your taste on his tongue made one thing clear in his mind. If he couldn’t wrap his lips around your nipple and suck till there was nothing left- if you wouldn’t grant him that one favor, the closest thing he had was to fuck you in missionary from now on. Hoping one day he would ask you mid way through- and you’d be too fucked out to say anything but yes.  

True if he really wanted to taste you- he could just reach into the freezer and thaw a bag of the pumped milk to try it. But he didn't just want to taste it- he wanted to feel it fill his mouth directly from the source. How warm it would be as it slid down his throat. And god- from the small tastes he's gotten, it's so sweet. You taste so fucking sweet.

His eyes watched as the plastic bottle filled up with milk, almost hypnotized by the liquid. You winced as the machine sucked at your sore nipple, which only made the cogs in Satoru’s brain start churning with schemes. 

With soft eyes he fluttered his white eyelashes up to you, “Does it hurt?” he whispered, looking at your expression that looked more irritated than pained. You nodded your head slowly, “It feels like when your foot is asleep,” you muttered, “but not the ‘numb’ kind of asleep, like the kind that hurts anytime you move it.” you continued as you closed your eyes, exhausted and very ready to go back to bed. 

Satoru raised himself from the counter, taking steps over to you as you felt his presence loom next to you. “Nd you have to do it all the time too-” he scoffed, playing the sympathy card so you'd think he was on your side. 

He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, “They always look so full,”  he murmured against your skin, you hummed in response, agreeing with what he was saying as he wrapped his hand around your waist, placing his chin on your shoulder. “So painful.” he hummed as his hands dared to trace up your bare torso. 

“I can help, y’know.” The tone he said those words sounded sincere- almost as though he was just trying to make this easier for you, you let out a hum in disbelief, “Unless you're a baby who refuses to latch- no you can't.” you mumbled with a groggy voice. 

Your words came out as a retort- but in Gojo’s ears they sounded like a challenge. 

It was true, his child had the same stubborness as Satoru, refusing to eat anything that didn’t come from a plastic bottle. Thus the pumping and the overproduction of milk that was piled high in the freezer by now. You had half the mind to sell it or empty them down the drain, I mean what child is gonna drink that much? Even if it was a Gojo heir- no child drinks that much milk. 

But the thought pained Satoru, it only reminded him of the times where that frozen milk could have been in his mouth rather than in plastic bags. 

Satoru kept a light touch as his hand trailed to the side of your ribs, scooping the bottom of the free breast you hadn’t pumped yet. Feeling the weight in his hand as he lifted it lightly, and you were just tired enough to let him. “They're so heavy.” he whispered in a coo as you blinked your eyes open, fully registering what he was trying to do. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Don't be gross, ‘toru.” you spoke in a clearer voice, earning a small laugh to ring into your ear as his hand gently grasped the side of your full breast. “What's gross about wantin’ to help?” He murmured in your ear, his hand keeping a light graze as his pointer finger brushed past your tender nipple, you hissed at the feeling causing Satoru to hum an understanding ‘I know.’ into your ear. 

You couldn't see his face but you were sure he was pleased with himself, “That's all I wanna do.” his words sounded wholehearted. Almost earnest as his large hand held onto your breast with a light touch, “I'll be sooo gentle, I promise.” he closed his eyes feeling your breast fill his palm with ease, “I just wanna help you,” he whispered as he pressed the off button on the little machine, guiding your hand to place it on the counter as he pressed an honest kiss to your ear. 

You knew that filling those little bottles would have taken way too long, then the thought of how much faster it would be if you let him- “Let me help you.” 

Satoru’s silver tongue was never your favorite part of him, you never liked how easy it was for him to hide the truth behind seemingly sincere words. 

His brushing fingertips against your sore nipples didn't help either, his fingers were very, very close to squeezing the suede ring of color around the hardened peak- Satoru wanted to see if small rivulets would spurt out of your nipples if he squeezed. 

You inhaled feeling the warm pads of his fingertip caress at your tender nipple. If Satoru wasn't trying to convince you of something, you'd admit it felt nice. You scoffed, “Don't make it nasty ‘toru-” you caved, sighing with an exhausted tone, feeling his warm palms lift your heavy breasts.

Gojo’s mouth had been salivating from the second he walked into the kitchen, and as you said those words he gulped hard. “Course not~” he mumbled, allowing the truth to seep out in his words. 

And as he guided you to sit onto the couch as you've done plenty of times when you'd pump, he already knew how he wanted to be fed, he had thought about it over and over again. And settled on this position, his back was pressed against the tops of your thighs. His long legs extended onto the couch- unashamed of his cock rising from staring at the cream droplet that threatened to fall from your nipple.

Even if this act was obscene and borderlining on too far- you were grateful he didn't make any teasing remarks on how little it took for him to convince you this time. That and how his mouth would have been filled soon enough, so you wouldn't worry about that. 

Your hand was on the back of his head, fingers filled with lily white hair as he fought back a smile. Only the gleam in his eyes showed you just how excited he was. Satoru’s lips parted as his eyes darted back and forth from your sore nipple up to your face that was warm with embarrassment. All but asking for permission as you watched his bottom lip quiver in anticipation. 

With pinched eyebrows, you guided his head towards your aching breast, Gojo’s lips parted awaiting your puffy nipple. His tongue covered the bottom of his teeth- a low groan rumbled onto your skin as he lightly pressed his parted lips onto the skin around your nipple.

You watched with a grimace look on your face, not knowing why he would offer this- let alone enjoy it. 

Satoru’s tongue circled at your hardening nipple, lapping softly as he tried to keep his promise of being gentle as the essence of the milk lingered on his tongue. A small huff left your lip as he rested his tongue at the bottom of your nipple, protecting it from his pearly teeth. 

His hands rested atop his tummy as you caressed the back of his scalp, you nodded your head as a form of permission, giving Satoru the ‘ok’ that he could start- his lips were slow to start sucking, pulling your nipple further into his mouth with a lactogenic motion from his tongue.

Before now, Satoru wasn't fully sure how to nurse if you let him, he knew it wasn't like just sucking your nipple. But the second he felt the sore apex of your breast press against the roof of his mouth, sucking in as much of your breast as he could, his tongue massaged the bottom of your tit to coax the milk to come out. 

The motion came to him as an instinct, as though nursing was engraved in his marrow from the minute he was pulled into this world. 

It took very little effort to pull milk to the surface. But the moan that reverberated onto your breast from a fat droplet hitting Satoru’s tongue- it was bordering on pornographic. It was as though he saw the pearly gates of heaven when the droplet infiltrated the taste buds of his tongue.

No matter how much fantasizing he did, or any of the ghost-like tastes- nothing. Nothing, could have prepared him for how fucking heavenly you tasted.

Your milk was warm, thick enough to leave a light cast on his tongue as he tried to suckle more liquid from your nipple. Gojo’s mouth was latched onto you in a way you knew it would hurt to pull him off.

Satoru’s gaze threatened to shut as you looked down at him. His head coddled in your hand as he kept faltering eye contact with you. Only making this feel even more salacious than it should have. 

No, this was only supposed to be a way for him to help- a way to remove the aching pressure from your breasts and save some time.

But that look in his eyes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed- almost as though he was sucking your tit in spite. 

That was till a bigger wave of your milk rushed into his mouth, earning an almost anguished whimper to pulse against your skin.

Your eyes squinted trying to figure out if he was exaggerating- only the way his eyes struggled to stay open, the blush across his cheeks and the satisfied smile on the perked corners of his lips, convinced you he was being genuine. 

With every ooze of the prized liquid he suckled from your plump breast, Satoru swallowed. Not wanting any to spill from his lips as you placed your hand on his chest that was threatening to start hyperventilating. Too focused on suckling as much milk as he could to even consider keeping a steady breathing pattern. The warmth of his mouth on your tender nipple was soothing, comforting almost.

Gojo’s eyes were half lidded and hazy- trying his very best not to let them roll to the back of his head as the dulcet milk trickled down his throat. 

Unwillingly a small whimper fled his latched lips as his eyes closed, chest heaving from the taste of you coating his mouth. You huffed a small breath from his greedy tongue sucking harder on your nipple. 

Rubbing your hand on his chest to soothe the little whimpers that rumbled your breast, thankful his eyes were closed when they rolled to the back of his head. His trapped cock was shouting at him for attention, be it instinct or just wanting to relieve the ache- his hand slowly trailed down his tummy, only your eyes were too focused on his seemingly intoxicated expression to notice. 

Your hand holding his head up started rubbing gently at his scalp, seeing frustration form on his delicate features- unknowing why. But you were almost trying to soothe him as whimpers vibrated onto your breast. Watching his eyebrows furrow and the growing blush on his cheeks to deepen as his eyes fluttered open.

Looking up at you from the slightly obstructed view from below, your palm on his chest being able to feel how hard his heart was beating. And as your eyebrows furrowed with a breathy sigh- you watched the familiar look in Satoru’s eyes glimmer past white lashes. 

You inhaled sharply, feeling his tongue trail from massaging the bottom of your nipple to the little mound that provided the milk. Tracing the tip of his tongue on your bud causing you to hiss his name in a warning. 

That's all it took for him to continue suckling on your sore nipple. You were about to rest back onto the couch with a sigh, caressing the back of his head as you felt relief wash over your shoulders, allowing him to take what he needed and then some. 

That was till your eye caught his bicep flexing- and you trailed your eyes down his pale arm parting your lips in shock as you watched his unashamed hand palm himself through his gray sweats. 

You huffed- only it came out in a breathy sigh rather than in the reprimanding tone you meant it to. Satoru only moaned as he heard his name fall from your lips, feeling his mouth suck rougher in order to pull more milk from your heavy breast that threatened to suffocate his nose.

His hand hesitantly removed itself from the stiff bulge of his sweats, landing on your wrist that was on his chest. His hazy cerulean eyes filled with the kind of mist you only see when he's premeditated something long before you knew of it.

Satoru’s fingers wrapped around your wrist as he greedily drank from your nipple, so greedily that the corners of his mouth were threatening to leak the honeyed fluid- he was suckling so much, he couldn't swallow fast enough.  

And as the little droplets stained the sides of Gojo’s jaw, trailing down his pale skin- he led your hand to extend over to his strained bulge. Knowing if you truly were uncomfortable by this, you would've pulled away the second you saw him palming himself.

You inhaled as his hand led you to his cock by your wrist, gasping softly with a tingle on your cheeks from how hard he was. Satoru placed his larger hand atop yours, pressing it onto his painful erection with a whine rippling through your skin. 

You flashed your eyes from the gray fabric that trapped his neglected cock, back to his eyes. Threatening to blink shut as you kept a gentle grasp on his bulge. Even if he was the one in your lap, nursing at your breast in a way that can only be described as voracious. That look on his face was smug, almost as though he was right this entire time and you were the hard headed one.

Satoru trailed his hand onto your forearm, smiling to himself as you started softly palming his prominent bulge. 

Your eyebrows were pinched upwards, trying very, very hard not to shift your thighs beneath his back to relieve the ache forming between them.

You felt bad, like the only reason he was palming himself- almost in a sad way, was because you allowed this to happen. It wasn't guilt- but you wanted to apologize in some way. 

Satoru’s mouth suckled in no pattern, his only goal was to drain every single gush of milk you offered. No matter how fervent he must've looked right now, he didn’t care. As long as he could feel your warmth in his throat- your taste coating the cavern of his mouth- he didn’t care if he looked like a starved man.

You sighed almost in pity as he let out various throaty whimpers, firmening your fingers around the print in his sweats. “Oh ‘toru~” you soothed, knowing how hard he was- it had to be painful. Your cheeks tingling and warm as his hips bucked up into your hand for more friction. 

And as your hand cradled onto the back of his head, you maneuvered the hand on his bulge to free it from its torment. 

For the first time since he latched onto your nipple, his lips parted from your breast with a low moan. The cold morning air hitting his pinkening tip causing him to furrow his eyebrows, but all it took was for the feeling to settle before he attached onto your draining nipple once more.

You didn't hesitate to place your hand onto his base, feeling the light trails of his precum on his shaft from how worked up he was, tempting a gasp to leave his lips, you looked at him.

And as though he was made to do it- Satoru lightly ran his tongue at your budding nipple, lapping up the white sweetness that leaked from your breast. 

You kept a light touch on his cock, his hand on your upper arm before gently resting it on the swell of your other breast. Thinking to himself how rude of him that he was neglecting your other equally tender nipple. 

Satoru lightly thumbed your nipple, feeling light drips wet his thumb. Enticing you to slowly start stroking him, stopping your grasp right before your fingers could roll onto his flushed tip. Knowing he wouldn't last long if you worked over his cockhead. 

The moans that rumbled from Gojo’s throat and onto your sensitive skin were full of desperation and bliss. You watched him in almost pity- trickles of your milk falling from the sides of his lips, making trails of white drip down his cheeks.

It didn’t take long for him to finish draining your breast, somewhere in his mind he knew there was nothing left in your left tit, but that didn't stop him from trying to slurp up any remaining droplets.

Gojo’s cheeks felt like they were boiling on his face, and with one last lap of your nipple, he unlatched from your breast. Huffing softly as his breath tickled your damp nipple, he looked up at you, an amazed and out of breath expression formed on his face as you wiggled your eyebrows. 

It was embarrassing, the way your milk left trails of a light white film on his cheeks, the way he was breathing heavily with his cock in your hand. Vulnerable. 

Satoru saw your flushed face- and to comfort you he raised himself from the tops of your thighs lightly, keeping a massaging hand on your unsucked breast as he pressed his plump lips to yours.

It was filthy- Mouths dancing against each other in pure delirium. Being able to taste yourself on his tongue- on his spit laced with milk. It was like Gojo did that to show you just how exquisite you tasted. Only for your hand to keep its snail pace, avoidant of his crying tip. 

His lips pulled from yours, looking into your eyes and thumbing your weeping white nipple. Soft opened mouth moans coming from his lips as your hand stroked tenderly.

Rare were the times when Satoru was silent during intimacy, usually babbling teasing nonsense. But this time, the carnal look in his eye told you everything you needed to know. His senseless prattling wasn't even a thought in his mind right now, burning beneath his skin was pure and utter hunger. Hunger, to taste you- to drink from you. To nurse, over and over again. 

The one thought that lingered in his mind was to make sure to keep you pregnant- keep you in a state to continue producing the warm comfort he hardly had as a child. 

Gojo licked his bottom lip, mouth salivating as he felt the warm liquid trickle onto his palm. He leaned back slightly, looking down to your swollen nipple rolling between his fingers. Then trailing his gaze to your slow stroking hand, Gojo was sure he had never been so hard in his life till now. 

He licked his lips before cupping the side of your heavy breast in his palm, slowly shifting himself down to align himself with your right breast. Your hand followed the back of his scap, guiding him to latch onto your dripping nipple. 

Satoru opened his mouth, closing his eyes when he felt the skin of your breast fill his mouth again. Running his tongue across your neglected nipple and tasting the essence his fingers had squeezed out. A throaty whine leaving his nose as he started suckling, so enthralled by your taste and the gentle way you stroked him. Keeping his kneading hand on the side of your breast to assist in guiding more milk into his mouth.

Your cheeks were warm, tingling from how lewd he looked at that moment. The little whimpers that came from him didn't help either. 

Happily, Satoru let those unfiltered whines pour from him, if it meant you'd know how much he was enjoying himself. 

And as your hand slightly passed his tip on the upturn, he gasped against you. Almost as a warning, he sucked harder on your sore nipple in return. Gojo let out muffled cries from your hand stroking past his tip, even if you couldn't see it- his eyes were rolled to the back of his head as he suckled instinctively. You looked away from his face- churned with an insatiable greed. 

Looking at his pinkening cock in your hand as the veins on his lower abdomen stood proud beneath his skin. His chest was heaving once more, forced to take heavy inhales through his nose as he felt the knot in his tummy tighten. 

Satoru’s whines started to rumble louder against you, watching an inhale reach down his torso, his tummy caving from how hard he exhaled. He was so close. So fucking close and fighting it at this point. You could see it in his scrunched eyebrows and desperate suckles. 

You lightly scratched your nails onto his scalp, “It’s okay ‘toru,” you sighed softly, gaining his cerulean eyes to open slightly and look up at you. You were flustered sure, but you wanted to assure Satoru that he could cum whenever he liked. He didn't need to hold off for your sake. 

Only when he saw the soft smile on your lips- something deep within him snapped. It didn't click before, even with your hand tenderly stroking him and your tit in his mouth, even as he was nursing directly from your breast. It still didn't click. 

But when you soothed his whimpers, the tender smile you had on your lips as he took and took from you. The nurturing tone you assured him with. That's when it made sense. That's when he realized why he had been longing to help you in this way. 

Before he didn’t really question it- thought it was just something weird he found hot amongst all his other strange fantasies. But now. Now it made sense. 

Your mind was a mess, barely able to process the words that fell from your lips naturally. Gojo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as you polished his cockhead, his hips bucking up into it in response. You watched as he let go of that final reservation, sucking harshly causing more of your milk to spill from the corners of his lips with frustrated whines. Being able to feel his orgasm tighten in his stomach. 

The hand on your breast was practically milking you, squeezing milk into his mouth rather than his tongue nursing at it, his nose was scrunched as he exhaled a ragged breath through his nose. Your nipple was starting to ache from the vibrating whimpers and moans, and instead of telling him to stop, you raked your fingers through his hair gently. “Shh, I know, I know.” you crooned, keeping a steady pace on his cock as he simmered his whimpers. 

Ever since Satoru told you he had little to no memories of his mother, you knew he had mommy issues. And when he started asking to taste your milk you were hesitant, knowing once that pandora's box was opened there was no use trying to close it again.

Only as you looked down at him, how content and blissful he looked- unlike anything you've ever seen before, you didn't mind if it didn’t close again. 

Satoru parted his eyes, feeling his orgasm slowly slip in his tummy, you watched as his eyes fluttered back to his head- mumbling something in the sound of ‘m’cummi-’ against your skin as you sped up your pace. His hips twitching up into your hand as you jerked him quickly, his lungs could barely handle how little air he was inhaling, his brain fuzzy as he slurped and lapped at your nipple. 

Gojo saw stars as you stroked him past the pinnacle you worked him up, his eyes squinted harshly as his lips unlatched from your breast, throaty groans mixed with whines fell from his lips as his orgasm oozed over your hand. When your thumb caressed the opening on his tip, his cock spurted out another pump of his cum with a whine. 

As you helped work through his orgasm, smaller pumps of his seed assisted in the wet strokes you gave him, Satoru latched back onto your breast with a content sigh, needing to drain as much as he could, his cock slowly softening in your hand. 

And as he drank the rest of your milk you rested your hand on his lower belly, waiting for him to finish taking what he needed. His mouth wasn’t suckling as frantically nor hurried as before. You relished in the warmth his lips provided with a sigh, closing your eyes as the sun started rising. Being able to see the light through your closed eyes. 

When Satoru couldn't taste any more milk coming from your drained breast, he hesitantly pulled away. Resting his head in your hand as he looked up to the ceiling hazily, milk drunk as your breasts obstructed his view.

He inhaled, “Throw away that stupid machine.” you sighed, knowing he’s hated the breast pump since he saw you use it for the first time. 

“What am I gonna do when you're not around?” you murmured, thinking of a world where you wouldn't have access to a pump. 

“Call me and I'll find you.” 

You let out a small laugh. Leaning your back onto the couch as Satoru setted on your hand. “So fucking weird.” You murmured, hearing him let out a smiley breath. 

Satoru sat up, turning to you with an endearing gaze, “Only cause I like you soooo much.” he claimed, pressing a kiss onto your temple before standing. Reaching out for your hand, ignoring the mess on his tummy, pulling you to stand as he led you to the master bathroom. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” you muttered behind him, watching him halt his steps and looking back at you, “What?” he asked with a smug smile and creased eyebrows. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “...Breakfast?” not understanding what was confusing about the question. 

Satoru scoffed, “What for? You just fed me.” he spoke sweetly, watching the grimace on your face churn with an appalled ‘ugh!’ as you snapped your hand away from his. You scoffed as he reached for your hand again, pulling you into his arms. Peppering kisses over your features as you groaned.

“You’re so nasty.” you scoffed as he stepped forward, leading you into the bathroom with various kisses on your cheeks. 

You were sure this little activity Satoru found so much attraction in, would make its way into your daily routine. Only you didn't mind it as much as you thought you would.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

writing this added 3 years to my life dead ass.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

The Morning After

Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader

Word count: 700 ish?

Warnings: Mentions to sex, hickeys, naked people, Simon wanting you for breakfast

Summary: The morning after a steamy night.

Sunlight creeps in through the curtains you never closed last night. The curtains fly around the room, pushed by the daring wind. The window’s are still open, letting in the chirps of birds outside. The wind pushes a breeze around the room and you shiver.

You’re laying on your right shoulder. There’s a heavy arm that isn’t yours draped across your waist. There’s a head tucked into the crook of your neck. There’s another forearm underneath your head. There’s someone’s heavy breathing going straight into your neck. You can feel a bit of stubble. You can feel hair, long, soft hair. You can feel a strong chest against your back. All of it is memorized in your mind.

And there’s only one person in the whole world who’s body you know inch by inch. 

You squint as you open your eyes, the sunlight almost killing you. The duvet is all messed up, barely covering your tangled bodies. His right arm is underneath your head, draped off your side of the bed. His grip on your waist is loose, he’s still asleep. His breathing is even, you can feel it. 

You push yourself out of bed slightly, making a move to shut the window and close the curtains. He grabs onto your waist tightly and pulls you back into the position you were in before. His voice is raspy, almost not even there, as he says, “Five more minutes.”

It should be illegal. His voice. His hair. His chest slowly falling and rising. It should be illegal to look this fucking good in the morning.

“Just wanna close the window,” You reply, keeping your voice hushed. 

“Who gives a shit?” He pulls the duvet higher over you, covering your naked body from the wind. “There. Now, give me 10 more minutes.”

His hand goes back to your waist, covering the soft maroon and purple bruises that formed throughout the night. 

So, you lay back down, take in a deep breath, and try to fall asleep. 

At least an hour goes by before you finally wake up again. Your position hasn’t changed and Simon’s hold on your waist is loose again. You finally move, getting up from bed. He doesn’t pull you back this time, but rolls over. He lets out a groan. “Oh, shut up, you big baby. I gave you more than 10 minutes.”

He doesn’t respond. Just lets out another groan, but louder and longer.

You grab the shirt he wore last night, the one he threw into a random corner of the room, more focused on your body. You toss it into the hamper. His pants and boxers are thankfully close enough to the hamper, yours nowhere to be found. Guess he was a little too excited.

You walk into the bathroom, getting a fine look at yourself in the mirror.

Hickeys and the traces of fingertips line your neck and chest, your hips and legs are covered, and I mean covered, in bruises. On both sides of your hips are marks of large, muscular hands. The marks are red, and it doesn’t look like it’ll all fade in the next hour. You turn slightly, getting a look at your back. Your ass is marked the same way your hips are, with large hand prints, your back thankfully okay. 

“You’re hurt,” Simon’s voice is barely above a whisper as he stares at you from the bed. 

This happens every time he leaves a mark on you. He turns cold again, becoming distant in fear of hurting you again. Every single time. It takes so many words of encouragement to get him to open up again, assuring him it didn’t hurt. 

“They’ll fade,” You shrug.

“I hurt you,” He whispers. 

“No, you didn’t. Last night was probably one of the best nights of my entire life, love. Don’t you dare think I’m in any sort of pain or anything. I’m fine,” You smile at him. “And I left a fair share of marks on you. Look at your back.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, looking over at you again. “Promise?”

“Swear on my life,” You smile. “You want breakfast?”

“Mhm,” He hums, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you. “It’s already served.” Are his last words before diving in between your legs.