#but as we've learned in the past few days

[sunnylucy31]

TheShatteredQueen posted in /r/AmITheAsshole:

AITA for doing whatever I can to save my people from genocide?

So obviously that title needs a bit of clarification. I (21f) am leader of a very small and tight knit minority group that's being persecuted by a very rich and very powerful man (3200m) and his family. For anonymity's sake we'll call him "Thunderbeard." He wants us all exterminated and our souls sent straight to eternal punishment, just because he has beef with our parents, my father (10000m) in particular. My father is also his father, but that doesn't really matter to him so we'll leave that aside.

We don't want anything to do with our parents; they made us solely to use as expendable soldiers, and we want more out of life. I literally diced one of them (7400m) and threw the pieces into super hell so we could avoid that. Unfortunately we only got a couple days of peace before Thunderbeard learned about us and had a bunch of his "employees" start hunting us. This was about five years ago.

I've lost good people. I can't imagine how they must be suffering right now, for no good reason. We'll all join them if we don't do something. I have a long term plan, but to enact it I need to buy us time.

Here's where things get complicated. Thunderbeard and his co-tyrants have kids similar to us, and a lot of them. Some are much younger than us, a few are much older, but they definitely outnumber us by a sizeable margin. Whenever Thunderbeard and Co need a job done, they typically send a few of the kids out to do it, more depending on how big the job is. The only reason they haven't been sent against us yet is because Thunderbeard thinks there's not enough of us to warrant it. My worry is that once he realizes he's wrong, he'll "rally the troops," as it were, and we'll be overwhelmed.

So I looked for ways to mitigate that, and happened on one that's a bit morally contentious. See, their kids are split into two groups (the criteria for which is a bit hard to follow and not really relevant atm) that have fought each other in the past. My thought was, if they fight again, maybe they'll weaken each other enough that we stand a chance against them. We've been laying the groundwork for that for a few years now, and earlier this week we kicked things firmly into motion. Barring any unforeseen mishaps, it could be the saving grace we've been praying for.

Now clearly that's not a good thing to do, I'm fully aware of that. It's already putting strain on my personal relationships. I just learned that I have a half-sister (19f) who I'd love to get to know, but she thinks I'm a "warmonger" and won't hear me out at all. It's all I can do some nights to fall asleep while the guilt eats away me.

But what else should we do? My people are counting on me to save them. We're damned even if we do nothing, so isn't the moral thing to fight however we can, even if it's sneaky and underhanded?

AITA?

StrengthAndEndurance: NTA. It's your job to think about what's best for the people under you, not anyone else. Keep your head high, don't let the guilt get to you.

FerrumMemoria: NTA. The oppressed have never gained anything by playing fair with their oppressors. In any liberation movement, bloodshed is inevitable. The ruler who does not recognize this is not fit to rule. Carry on as you have, and worry not about the judgement of history until you've survived to write it.

StargazerButch7: NTA. I understand feeling guilty, but there's no easy way out of this mess. We all appreciate the hard choices you have to make for our sakes. Keep the faith!

WaterloggedRedhead: NTA! Thunderbeard is the real asshole! Keep up the good work, we're all behind you!

Write an r/AmITheAsshole post told from your OC’s perspective. (Bonus: include replies from your other OCs.)

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

literally so glad romangerri stole my tedbecca focus so early on in this television season and refused to give it back no matter what i told myself about which one was logically more likely to end well

i feel like it is the only thing keeping my fangirl psyche intact right now

thank u, my dirty little freaks, my funky little angels, may you have a fun sexy time together in hundreds of millions of fanfics

[sheeshiki]

if anything is going to happen to her i'll kill everyone in my party and then myself

[mpregspn]

googling "what flowers does my mom like"

[bbibbirose]

story time !

[inkskinned]

for a while i lived in an old house; the kind u.s americans don't often get to live in - living in a really old house here is super expensive. i found out right before i moved out that the house was actually so old that it features in a poem by emily dickinson.

i liked that there were footprints in front of the sink, worn into the hardwood. there were handprints on some of the handrails. we'd find secret marks from other tenants, little hints someone else had lived and died there. and yeah, there was a lot wrong with the house. there are a lot of DIY skills you learn when you are a grad student that cannot afford to pay someone else to do-it-for-ya. i shared the house with 8 others. the house always had this noise to it. sometimes that noise was really fucking awful.

in the mornings though, the sun would slant in thick amber skiens through the windows, and i'd be the first one up. i'd shuffle around, get showered in this tub that was trying to exit through the floor, get my clothes on. i would usually creep around in the kitchen until it was time to start waking everyone else up - some of them required multiple rounds of polite hey man we gotta go knocks. and it felt... outside of time. a loud kind of quiet.

the ghosts of the house always felt like they were humming in a melody just out of reach. i know people say that the witching hour happens in the dark, but i always felt like it occurred somewhere around 6:45 in the morning. like - for literal centuries, somebody stood here and did the dishes. for literal centuries, somebody else has been looking out the window to this tree in our garden. for literal centuries, people have been stubbing their toes and cracking their backs and complaining about the weather. something about that was so... strangely lovely.

i have to be honest. i'm not a history aficionado. i know, i know; it's tragic of me. i usually respond to "this thing is super old" by being like, wow! cool! and moving on. but this house was the first time i felt like the past was standing there. like it was breathing. like someone else was drying their hands with me. playing chess on the sofa. adding honey to their tea.

i grew up in an old town. like, literally, a few miles off of walden pond (as in of the walden). (also, relatedly, don't swim in walden, it's so unbelievably dirty). but my family didn't have "old house" kind of money. we had a barely-standing house from the 70's. history existed kind of... parallel to me. you had to go somewhere to be in history. your school would pack you up on a bus and take you to some "ye olden times" place and you'd see how they used to make glass or whatever, and then you'd go home to your LEDs. most museums were small and closed before 5. you knew history was, like, somewhere, but the only thing that was open was the mcdonalds and the mall.

i remember one of my seventh grade history teachers telling us - some day you'll see how long we've been human for and that thing has been puzzling me. i know the scientific number, technically.

the house had these little scars of use. my floors didn't actually touch the walls; i had to fill them with a stopgap to stop the wind. other people had shoved rags and pieces of newspaper. i know i've lost rings and earring backs down some of the floorboards. i think the raccoons that lived in our basement probably have collected a small fortune over the years. i complain out loud to myself about how awful the stairs are (uneven, steep, evil, turning, hard to get down while holding anything) and know - someone else has said this exact same thing.

when i was packing up to leave and doing a final deep cleaning, i found a note carved in the furthest corner in the narrow cave of my closet. a child's scrawled name, a faded paint handprint, the scrangly numbers: 1857.

we've been human for a long time. way back before we can remember.

[bloominskyline]

so ok we know that news channels typically exaggerate their reports and stories to gain attention and/or push certain political agendas but the last few days' weather reports have caught my eye. apparently there's this huge wave of polar air that's going to engulf the entire country and winter is going to settle back in and we'll freeze to death and whatever other bullshit. orange code this, yellow code that, reports of entire villages left without electricity due to snow storms etc. and all of these really close to the area you live in, so be careful cause temperatures are going to drop and the snow will be up to your knees!! 🥶😱 and then you go outside and it's like 10°C and the sun is shining.... i was just wondering..who benefits from this??? or are they just so caught up in blowing eveything out of proportion that they went "eh fuck it might as well exaggerate the weather too"?

turns out, one explanation could be exactly that. however, weather observation stations apparently just lie sometimes and exaggerate, following the "a broken clock is right twice a day" principle. (this is apparently called "wet bias") you know, kind of like a medium lmao

[fans4wga]

26 July update from WGA's Chris Keyser

From the WGA: With SAG-AFTRA now on strike and new levels of solidarity across all Hollywood unions, we are witnessing the spectacular failure of the AMPTP’s negotiating strategy. In this video, WGA Negotiating Committee Co-Chair Chris Keyser lays out what this moment means and how we move forward. To learn more about the WGA strike, visit https://www.wgastrike.org.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Fellow members of the WGA East and West. It's been a while since our last video and quite a bit has happened in the meantime. So on behalf of the negotiating committee and leadership, I wanted to give you an update on where we are and what the near future at least is likely to bring.

We've been walking side by side on picket lines in New York and Los Angeles for a little over 12 weeks now. Only now we're joined by thousands upon thousands of members of SAG-AFTRA who, like us, have finally had enough.

This is the endpoint and the fruit of the AMPTP’s game plan. For 11 weeks, they negotiated with everyone but us. They claimed it was just practicality, that they could only do one thing at a time, which is not normally a point of pride. But events have made clear what we knew from the start: that not only was it a strategy, it was their only strategy. Negotiate a deal with a single guild and impose that deal on every other guild and union in Hollywood, whether it addresses the needs of those unions or not, all with the implicit threat: if you want more, strike for it.

Wow. It’s their 2007-8 playbook applied to 2023 as if nothing has changed, as if the accumulation of economic insults and injuries inflicted on us over the past decade would be borne in perpetual silence, as if the giant of labor had not awakened. But it has. And you only need to look as far as the front gates of every studio in LA and New York to see the evidence.

Two unions on strike willing to exercise their power, despite the pain, to ensure their members get the contract they deserve. For us, that means addressing the relentless mistreatment of screenwriters, which has only been exacerbated by the move to streaming; the continued denial of full MBA protection to comedy variety and other appendix A writers when they work in streaming; and the self-destructive unsustainable dismantling of the process by which episodic television is made and episodic television writers are paid.

It means addressing the existential threat of AI and the insufficiency of streaming residual formulas, including the need for transparency and a success-based component. All of these will need to be addressed for there to be a deal because in this strike it is our power and not their pattern that matters, not their strategy. Their strategy has failed them. Now they're in the midst of a streaming war with each other, an admittedly difficult transition. And as they face the future, their interests and business models could not be more different from Disney to Sony to Netflix to Amazon.

We root for their success, all of them. They root for each other's failure. We are the creative ammunition through which they will succeed. They are each other's apex predators. And yet, in a singular shared dedication to denying labor, they have shackled themselves together in what increasingly seems like a mutual suicide pact, as the 2023-24 broadcast season and the 2024-25 movie schedule and its streaming shows disappear, melt away week by week.

So what does this mean? What does it mean going forward? How do you play chess against an opponent who insists on screaming checkmate at every move regardless of how the board looks and the game is going?

You stay firm, you stay resolved, because our cause is no less existential than when we started and our leverage is increasing every day. Alone we withheld our labor with the support of our union siblings and the Teamsters and IATSE and the Crafts, we were able to delay the vast majority of production. Now with SAG-AFTRA on strike, those few studio projects that remained have also shut down. And it's not just the obvious delays. If this strike drags on, it's the actors with conflicting obligations and the directors and the double-booked studio facilities and release date chaos that the companies must now also contend with. Some of their most valuable product could well be delayed for years.

Add to that, no promotion of movies or television shows and famous faces on the picket lines and social media speaking directly to their customers. For the tech companies and the mega corporations, that should be their nightmare scenario: WGA and SAG-AFTRA side by side. Our bargaining agenda may not be identical, but our cause is the same. Our army of labor, defending labor has increased 17-fold in the past two weeks alone.

Even so, even with all this wind at our backs this negotiation won't happen overnight. It's not because the negotiations themselves are so complex. Once the companies fully engage, it could go very quickly, but because their strategy of many decades has just fallen apart and they didn't see it coming, and it's going to take them a minute to regroup, 'cause the companies have things to work out internally, and saying no to labor in unison is a lot easier than saying yes. So either together or separately, as their divergent interests might suggest, they will come back to us, despite their understandable concern about how they've navigated this transition to streaming, which is on their heads and not ours; and their worries about costs and their worries about Wall Street; despite this being a season of doom and gloom, none of them are walking away from the riches of this business, and certainly not over the equitable minimum compensation to writers.

They didn't get the deal they wanted; that's fine, it happens all the time. They're not taking their ball and going home over it. And since we know they come from union families themselves, and since they've denied that “even-in-Hollywood-you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me” ugliness of threatening to starve us out and leave us homeless (which we assume they understand also means making our children homeless,) they will come back to us. Although I will say they took a long time to deny that statement, longer than I would have had it been ascribed to me.

But what does it matter? You can starve a labor force slowly or quickly. The effect is the same. It's not like day rates for comedy variety writers and endless free drafts for screenwriters in exchange for a single paid one in four-week mini-rooms isn't cruelty. It's just cruelty written in contract language instead of a press quote.

So what can we expect from the companies as all of this plays itself out? They will try to convince Wall Street that taking a strike, prolonging it unnecessarily, losing their content stream in the process—that all of that is just smart business and no reason for investor concern. We will be talking to Wall Street too, and reminding them that for all these companies, all of 'em including Netflix, the bill, the price for making nothing, will eventually come due. And Wall Street is listening already. Here's Michael Pachter, managing director of equity research at Wedbush on Yahoo Finance the other day: “I think the studios are completely wrong on this one. Content is their lifeblood. They're feeling really foolish about this."

Wall Street isn't the only one listening. We've been talking to union pension funds too about the risks the companies are taking. We talked to CalPERS, the largest public pension plan in the country, talked about the loss of programming and the cost to the industry, and we heard strong support from its board for our struggle and the promise that the companies will be hearing from them, from CalPERS, and demanding answers on behalf of its 2 million members.

To us, of course, they will continue to plead temporary poverty, but we know the drill. These companies support billions into the streaming wars and taken short-term losses these past three years, because they know that to the winner will go the spoils. We're patient, will they share that with us when the time comes? What are the chances?

Since 2017, the last time the studios negotiated with us outside of COVID, the big six companies alone have made $150 billion in profits off our work, while they slashed our pay and degraded our working conditions. Maybe if they had shared a tiny piece of that then, made $1 billion or so less, this year wouldn't seem so costly. As it is, there is no iron law that these companies are entitled to record profits every year, and it isn't some great travesty if their shareholders or their CEOs get a slightly smaller slice of the massive profits we helped create if some balance is restored.

Look, no one denies that corporations exist to make a profit and no one wants our employers to be profitable more than we do, but the singular pursuit of corporate profits to the exclusion of their social and human cost is a real problem in this country—it’s a real problem. A corporation's bottom line is not the same as the world’s, and there is nothing in our studio's bottom lines today that accounts for the quality of our lives or for our dignity, for the comfort of our retirement or the security of our families. Their numbers have no conscience, but the people who report them as victories ought to.

In their refusal to recognize that, these companies have also extracted an awful price, which is laid at their feet and for which they are responsible. Losses to the economies of New York and Los Angeles and everywhere that film and television are made, terrible losses that mount every day, thousands of people out of work; not just us, all the crews, the crafts, the janitors, the drivers, the businesses that thrive when Hollywood thrives, the restaurants, the stores—for what? For nothing. So they could avoid coming to the table to negotiate the deal they will one day give us. Measured today that is the painfully mixed legacy of our employers, weighed against every beautiful piece of work we have made with them.

And if history is a guide, they have only temporary stewardship over a kind of national trust, which is Hollywood. Our story, our sometimes conscience, our public conversation, our diversion of the worst and best of times, our greatest export, the repository of our imagination. They have some obligation to more than just their shareholders to behave accordingly.

Unfortunately, it seems big tech, mega corporations, and some of the people who run them, as the saying goes know the price of everything and the value of nothing. So they have built a business model that no longer works for human beings who cannot be paid minimum for 10 to 20 weeks a year and make a career out of that, be paid for one draft of a screenplay that demands a year of labor, be paid a few episodic fees for a show about which to take years to decide be paid a daily rate.

And now we have a first glimpse of what they offered our actor colleagues. We are not 170,000 Willy Lomans to be used and then discarded. We know what the companies believe they have the power to do. We know what they think machines can do and do without any of us. Oh yeah, we've seen the writing on the wall and it's plagiarized.

The thing is this: the difference between what you CAN do and what you SHOULD do is the greatest single difference in the world. Knowing that is the only real protection we have against a dystopian future. And if the companies sometimes forget that, writers will do it for them.

I can't know exactly how long it will take this revolutionary moment, and you've heard again and again what is happening today has not happened in 63 years, but I know that's not always how it feels, revolutionary and defining, even though we celebrate that on picket lines together, which is the right thing to do. That's not always how it feels when you go home at night. I know how tough this is: to strike, to hold the line. I know it gets tougher every day even with SAG-AFTRA marching beside us, how hard it is to face the uncertainty of when it will end, when we'll get back to work, how we'll pay the bills. I know it's hardest for those who've just gotten started, for those for whom the world opens doors more reluctantly, battled their whole life just to get here; but hard too for those struggling to maintain their long careers, who find work tougher and tougher to come by, or those with families with children or parents to take care of.

These companies understand the cruelty of what they're doing. It's their plan to starve us just a little, to exact as much pain as they can so that we wish more for the pain to end than for the better life we dreamed up. That we're more afraid of the uncertainty of the present than the certain devastation of the future. It's societally acceptable economic torture inflicted by management on labor every day, then blamed on labor for daring to fight back, for refusing to be complicit in its own mistreatment.

Here's how I know that's not going to work. Not with us, not with the writers, because we haven't come all this way, fought to have these careers in the first place, all the adversity, and marched together for all these months, only to let it slip away on our watch—because there is no point in rushing back to jobs that may not be there in a year or two anyway. Because the business, as the companies have twisted it, is now untenable, unsurvivable for so many of us, because even success is not enough to keep going, because this guild is younger than it's ever been and more diverse. And this young diverse membership knows from hard personal experience the system is broken and that it will not be fixed unless they fix it. And those of us who came before them will not let them down, because we and the writer's guild are the beneficiaries of all those who came before us who gave up everything for us.

Like the writers of 1960, the year I was born, who struck for 22 weeks and who gave away all the TV residuals for all the movies they had ever written so that we could have a health insurance and pension plan and residuals from that date forward. $15 billion flowed to writers and their benefit plans because of that sacrifice. Because writers are brave, because now it's our turn.

So what's our job? Even as we welcome SAG-AFTRA to our side, we are still responsible for our own deal, and so we must remain focused and diligent. We must continue to march, picket signs in hand. But we should also remember this and with pride, that before there was SAG-AFTRA, before even the Teamsters and IATSE and the laborers and the electrical workers and the musicians and the plasterers came to our side, there was the writers. Alone then, we looked at the blank page and began to imagine the future. With no net but each other we typed the words, what if?

And then we took a step into the darkness and found that it was light. And then we were joined by the crews and the drivers and the actors. The actors got a bit more fanfare when they showed up, but that's okay, we wrote the script. The WGA, still small, not alone anymore after all these decades. Hollywood labor has finally linked arms and found its voice, and that voice says enough. There is no road to longterm prosperity that burns a path through your own workforce. We are not your enemies. We are not merely a cost to be borne. We are your partners and your greatest asset. And we are, as you acknowledge yourselves, irreplaceable, but by accident or design and it doesn't really matter anymore, the business you are running no longer works for those who work for you.

What is the point in continuing to deny that? Why deny it when everyone else in the business to a person tells you it's true? Do you think it's a coincidence that two unions are on strike against you for the first time since Eisenhower was president? You can't exactly accuse us of being quick on the trigger. The effect has a cause, it has a cause. And there is no profit in insisting on the answers to the past for the questions of the future.

But if you want instead to invest in something that will reap you fortunes, I have a tip. And if you are visionaries, envision a solution, not a stalemate. Because this isn't a war we're in, it's a negotiation, it's just a negotiation. There is no face-saving here for either side, because there is no winner or loser. It's just a deal. And when you come to remember that again we will be here as we have been here all along.

And at this point with 170,000 writers and actors aligned against your intransigence, that is as generous as I can be, as close to an olive branch as I can offer. But if you insist instead on the same threatening rhetoric, on saying you would rather starve us than pay us, I would remind you of this: You are fighting for a dollar, we are fighting for survival. We are fighting for our home: writing is where we live, and we will defend that home with a bravery and stamina and ferocity that you will come to understand someday, which is why you cannot break us. You cannot outlast us, you cannot.

And not just because we have the will, because we have power. Nothing in this business happens until we start to write. And we will not start to write until we are paid.

Union now. Union forever.

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty ⭐︎ Tell me it's love, tell me it's real

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! slight angst, only a tiny bit of sadness, fluff, lots and lots of fluff, mentions of loss and death, smut, pool sex, unprotected sex, mentions of unrequited feelings

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve get lost in your own little world, a delusion in which you both have what you want, if only you knew how to talk, how to communicate.

Word count: 11.6k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult we've been talking about this moment since February and now we're here aaahhhh! thanks for helping me and for putting the smut idea in my head, it's been living rent free in there for the past few months, thanks for writing with me hehe ily

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

Steve was dying of boredom. Mrs. Click’s voice sounded through the room that was filled with other bored students, the girl next to him that he never bothered to learn the name of was chewing her gum obnoxiously as she was sketching in her notebook, she smelled like weed and a strong perfume, it was giving him a headache. 

He looked at the clock and sighed, forty minutes to go… 

He couldn’t wait for the bell to ring and go home, watch a movie and eat the pasta his mom made the night before. 

Steve leaned back and tapped his fingers against the book he didn’t even bother to open when Mrs. Click told everyone to flip to page 137. He looked to his left, at the girl sitting by the window, listening attentively and taking notes the way he should have been doing too. 

Just the sight of you angered him and he didn’t even know why, but something in his chest burned every time he looked at you and it frustrated him to no end. And yet, he never stopped himself from looking, from taking in the sight of you and how soft your skin looked, how pretty your eyes were, how nice your clothes fit you and how stunning you always were, even when you ditched your pretty dress for sweaters and jeans on some days. 

Today wasn’t one of those days, you were wearing a skirt, a short one that rode up on your thighs, it made his eyes spark with interest, it made him look closer at you, he sat up straighter and leaned his elbows on the table. 

Your eyebrows were scrunched together, your glossy lips puckered, your eyelashes kissed your skin every time you blinked, your hair laid so prettily on your shoulder, curled at the ends, he wondered how much time you spent on it, did you sleep with rollers in your hair? Or did you get up early just to style it? 

Your skin was glowing and he swore that he could smell your sweet perfume even from a distance. Every time you passed him, he breathed in your scent and made the burning in his chest feel worse than before but he couldn’t help it, you smelled so good. 

He kept staring at you and questions started running through his mind. 

Why do you have to be so beautiful?

Why do you have such pretty lashes?

Why do you bite your lip like that?

Why does his heart beat so weirdly every time he sees you?

It’s not fair, it’s bullshit. 

Your eyes, your smile, your hair, your lips, your pretty face, your stupid rings, your scent, your beauty… it’s not fair. 

Your presence always made him huff in irritation and yet, he never bothered to look the other way or avoid you. 

He always stared, every chance he got, he stared, just like now. 

But then, you turned your head and your eyes locked with his, you caught him staring and it made his cheeks heat up. He shifted in his seat as you gave him a look of confusion, your puckered lips turning downwards, your eyebrows scrunching together even more. 

He should’ve looked away and pretended like nothing happened but he didn’t, he raised his brows at you and curled his lips into a smirk, an action that made you roll your eyes before you turned back to your notebook. 

He almost felt disappointed at the loss of your attention, but then you flipped a page and leaned closer to the table, you quickly scribbled something into your notebook, it made him curious and it made him crane his neck a little but he couldn’t see what you were writing. You then ripped the paper out and folded it, you looked at Mrs. Click before you turned back to him and threw the note on his table without giving him as much of a glance. 

Something in his chest stirred as he picked it up, still looking at you before he gave his full attention to the paper in his hand, he unfolded it and furrowed his brows as he looked at your pretty handwriting before he even read what you wrote. 

What are you looking at perv?

Steve almost laughed, he didn’t expect anything else from you. He shook his head and smirked as he folded the note back together and threw it in his pencil case. He ripped off a piece of paper from his own notebook and started writing without thinking. 

You.

A simple ‘you’, that’s all. He wanted to see how you would react, what you would say back, if you would take it as a chance to flirt with the King, if you would use the opportunity any other girl would use. 

He looked around and ignored the curious looks from Tommy as he threw the note on your table, it landed right in front of you and you wasted no time unfolding it, you looked over your shoulder at him, a deadpan look on your pretty face. You sighed and turned back. 

Steve straightened in his seat, he pressed his lips together as he watched you and the way you held your breath, the way you stared at the paper for a moment, tensely and then, you huffed and crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it in your case just the way he did. You started writing hastily and made him more curious when you stopped for a second before you continued. 

His heart jumped when he got the second note, just like the first time, he quickly unfolded it and read it with excitement bubbling in his chest. 

Very funny, are you running out of girls to flirt with, King Steve?

Of course you would not take the bait and give into his curiosity but he found himself craving for more, you sparked his interest, so he picked up the pen again. 

What makes you think I’m flirting with you, Blondie? Maybe I just like looking at you. 

He should have seen the way you halted your breath, the way you stared at the note a little longer than you did at the last one.

And here I thought you only like to look at yourself…

He snorted at that and earned a pointed look from Mrs. Click, he instantly straightened his back and pretended to listen to her, scared of getting caught, he didn’t want this to end just yet. A sigh of relief fell from his lips once she turned her attention back to the book in front of her. 

No, I quite like looking at the skirt you’re wearing today

Steve swore that you grew flustered at this note, you even glanced down at the skirt and took a few deep breaths before you wrote back to him. 

Like I said… perv. 

His shoulders slumped and he sighed. A part of him was amused, the other… not so much but before he could write back, the bell rang and everyone around him started gathering their stuff and hurrying to leave the classroom, including you. You picked up your notebook and got up, you smoothed down your skirt and left without sparing him a single glance. 

But Steve wanted more. He gathered his things and jumped up, not bothering to wait for Tommy, he hurried after you and watched the way your skirt swayed and your hair bounced. He licked his lips and cleared his throat as he caught up to you, he glanced down at you with a cocky smirk on his face, one that made you roll your eyes again. 

“What do you want, perv?”

He chuckled and shook his head. 

“I’m not a perv.”

“You’re not?” You tilted your head at him, cutely. “Then why are you staring at my skirt and making comments about it?”

He shrugged and looked down at it before his eyes moved up your body, “maybe I just really like it.” 

You rolled your eyes again and laughed – a sound that made him feel something in his stomach. 

“I fear you can’t borrow it, it won’t even fit around your big square head.” 

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes and yet, he couldn’t even help but snort at your insult, they were so very different from the ones he threw at you sometimes.  

“My head isn’t square…”

“Yes it is,” you giggled and gave him a smirk as you eyed him. 

Evil. 

“You look like a lego figure, you have a lego head.” 

He shook his head at you, though the amused smile lingered on his face, even as he took notice of all the prying eyes on you and him, he heard the whispers, saw the girls that eyed him and then you before they leaned towards each other to make up some new gossip, a part of him felt irritated and annoyed but the other part of him that loved the attention, couldn’t care less about what they would say about him or you. 

You stopped at your locker and gave him a weird look when he stopped too, he leaned against the locker next to yours and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched you fidget with your lock. He looked at your hands, how much smaller they were than his and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander the way his eyes did as they roamed every inch of you while you were busy putting your stuff into your locker. 

Usually he did not allow himself to see you as anything other than a girl he disliked but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he allowed himself to see you as something other than that, as something more. 

He licked his lips as he looked at your soft skin, his fingers itched to touch your hair, wondering if they felt just as soft as they looked. He breathed in the scent of your perfume and felt something stir inside of him. 

You turned towards him and he didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was staring. Your lashes fluttered as you blinked, your lips twisted into a downturned smile, you raised your brows at him and shrugged.

“Okay, what do you want from me, Harrington?” You asked, the strap of your backpack now over your shoulder and you slammed your locker before you crossed your arms over your chest. “Is this a dare or something or why are you staring at me like some creep?” 

He felt his cheeks heat up a little, a shyness he usually never felt tugged at his emotions but his arrogance was still in control. 

“I’m bored,” he shrugged and let his eyes linger on your lips as his mind continued to wander. 

You rolled your eyes at him and huffed, pointing your finger around you, gesturing to the students, to the girls that stared at you in envy at this moment. 

“Well, I’m sure one of them will keep you entertained,” you mumbled and took a step forward, “they are practically begging on their knees for your attention, don’t leave ‘em waiting.” You patted him on his chest before you stepped away from him. 

He turned to face you, not wanting to let you go just yet. 

“What if I want you to keep me entertained?” He asked teasingly with a cocky, playful smirk on his lips, one that made you blink and sigh. 

“Dream on, King Steve,” you smirked and looked over his shoulder at something behind him, “gotta be more creative with your dares, your stupid friends are way too obvious.” 

He furrowed his brows and turned around to see what you were looking at, he found Tommy and Carol watching the two of you with a smirk on their lips, giggles falling from Carol’s mouth. Steve rolled his eyes at them and sighed. 

“Listen, that wasn’t–” he stopped talking when he found you long gone and away from him and watched as you walked away, “a dare…” He mumbled to himself, he sighed again and looked down once you were out of sight. His notebook and pencil case were still in his hand, your notes tucked safely in the case – where they stayed for a while. 

“Steve!” 

Your giggles make him smile so widely that it makes his cheeks ache but he can’t stop, not when you continue blessing him with your sweet laughter, your hands are on his shoulders, holding on tightly as his fingers dig into your sides, he peppers your neck with kisses, smacking his lips against the skin over and over. 

You are squirming underneath him, your dress riding up in the process as you both lie on the big couch in your living room, the movie playing on the TV long forgotten, your snacks discarded on the table, your attention is fully on each other, your lips locking every few seconds as your hands wander across his shoulders, over his back, down his arms and finally melting into his hands, your heart skipping several beats when he entwines his fingers with yours.

Steve squeezes your hands and he dives in deeper into your neck, kissing and smiling against your skin. 

“That tickles!” You giggle again, your eyes begin to water from all the laughter. 

He chuckles against you and pecks your neck one more time before he pulls back to kiss your jaw instead, then your cheek and finally your lips, humming against you when you kiss him back immediately. Your breaths mingle together, your lips mold against each other, softly yet passionately, you are chest to chest, hands clinging to one another. 

You let go of one hand and place your palm on his back, sliding it up to his shoulder and squeezing it before you sink your fingers into his already messy hair. 

Steve sighs into the kiss and tightens his hold on your hand as he parts your thighs with his knee, not to take this any further but to feel you closer and you welcome him happily, not initiating anything else either, this feels good, this feels nice, this is enough. 

Your whimper makes his stomach flutter, a smile tugs at his lips as you play with his hair. Your hands feel so good on him, so perfect, so right. His heart skips a beat when you push yourself up and press yourself further against him, parting his lips with your tongue, you deepen the kiss in need to feel him even closer. 

Your hands roam his body and his roam yours, sighs and whimpers sound through the room as you make out on your couch, growing more and more breathless, only when it gets too much do you break the kiss and pull away from one another. You lay your head back on the pillow and open your eyes to see him staring at you already, a soft smile on his swollen lips, eyes hooded and laced with softness, his cheeks are pink and his hair is messy from all your tugging. Steve makes your heart flutter when he presses another soft kiss to your lips and cups the side of your face, tracing your cheekbone as he gazes down at you in a way only a special one should do. 

“Hi Blondie,” he whispers sweetly. 

You raise your hand up towards his face, brushing back his spitcurl before you trail your finger down to his lips, “hey, Lego Head.” 

His eyes crinkle in amusement, a chuckle falls from his pretty lips, “wow, way to ruin the moment.” 

You giggle at him and it makes him continue. 

“You haven’t used that one in a while.” 

“Mhmm, did you miss it?” You tease him, knowing how much he hated the nickname you gave him on a random school day. 

“Hmm, it kinda grew on me,” he admits, smiling down at you, “but I kinda prefer it when you call me Stevie.”

“Stevie? That only happens when I’m drunk.” 

“Yeah,” he whispers and tugs your hair behind your ear, still smiling as his eyes trace your features, “guess I gotta get you drunk again.”

“Why?” You giggle and furrow your brows at him, “so I’ll call you Stevie again?” 

“Yeah, and so I can have sweet Blondie again,” he smirks, “you’re so nice and adorable when you’re drunk.” 

Your cheeks heat up at his words but you roll your eyes and shake your head. 

“Are you saying I’m normally not adorable?” You joke and pout at him and push him back so you can stand up, heart beating faster at the groan of protest and the tightness of his hold on your waist when you try to get up from the couch. 

“Where are you going?” He asks, frowning at you when you place your hand on top of his and gently remove it from your waist. 

“I’m starving, I’m gonna see what I have in the fridge.” 

Steve nods and wastes no time to get up and follow you into the kitchen, admiring the way your little sundress fits your body, the way it hugs your waist and sways around your hips as you walk. Your hair matches the state of his own, messy and disheveled from the previous makeout session. 

When you open the fridge, you let out a loud sigh and look over your shoulder, “uh… I kinda forgot to do the groceries.” 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, chuckling at the expression on your face, he steps closer to you and places his hands on your waist as he takes a look inside, finding nothing more than fruit, drinks, condiments and cheese, “yeah, that won’t do.”

You sigh again and close the fridge, turning around to face him while his hands are still on your waist. 

“Yeah…”

“Well, let’s go out then,” Steve shrugs as the idea of taking you to a restaurant fills him with excitement and giddiness. 

Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen. 

“W-Where?”

Steve clears his throat, his cheeks take on a deeper shade. 

“T-To eat. We can uh– go to a sushi restaurant, I’ve always wanted to try… Have you ever tried sushi…?” He stutters and blushes. 

“Y-You wanna go out with me… in public?” You ask, cringing at how shaky and small your own voice sounds. 

His lips twitch, curling into a smile as he nods. 

“We uh… We could go out of town, there are no sushi restaurants in Hawkins, Blondie.” His words left his mouth so casually, like his heart isn’t hammering in his chest and he isn’t filled with the same nervousness he felt as a teenage boy. He feels as though he is asking you out on a date… and maybe he is, maybe he’d like to pretend that he is. 

“You mean to Indianapolis?”

Steve nods. He wants to leave Hawkins for a while, even if just for one night, he wants to be able to go out with you without feeling the need to hide, he wants to hold your hand in public and kiss you breathless on the streets, he wants to hold you close and show you off as if you were his. 

He wants it all with you and he wants it here too, in his hometown, where anyone could see but he still doesn’t know how you feel, he feels hopeful but he is still in the dark about your feelings. 

“It's the closest city we got.”

“It’s an hour trip!” 

His heart melts at the bewildered, cute look on your face, the excitement that lingers in your eyes as your lips start curling into a smile. 

“So?” Steve shrugs and squeezes your waist, “we got all night.”

Your heart is racing and everything inside of you flutters in excitement. Your cheeks are burning and you feel the giddiness of a girl that’s been asked out on a date by the boy she likes. You can’t even hide the smile that appears on your face, brightly and happily. 

“I need to get changed then!” You beam at him as you already step away, not giving him the chance to protest or say anything else before you walk out of the kitchen, “I’ll be down in a minute!” 

Steve listens to the sound of your footsteps as you rush up the stairs, leaving him in your kitchen with a pounding heart and a huge smile on his lips. He looks up at the ceiling, an accomplished and joyful feeling rushing through him, he can’t help but do a silent fist pump. 

This is going to be a date, an unofficial one, but still a date. 

He can’t fight the grin off his lips, the giddy feeling settling into his whole body. He walks back into the hallway and takes a look at himself, your lipstick is smudged on his skin and his lips, his hair is a mess, created by you, his cheeks are glowing from all the happiness inside of him. 

He fixes his hair and wipes the pink lipstick off his skin before he makes his way into your living room to turn off the TV and put away the snacks you both had earlier. 

You come back down fifteen minutes later, changed into a new dress and your makeup reapplied, your hair fixed and a small purse in your hand. You meet in the hallway, keys already in his hand, and he’s leaning against the door.

Steve’s heart goes wild at the sight of you in your new sundress, your glossy lips tugged into a smile, the urge to pull you into a kiss pushes him towards you.

He whistles playfully, making you roll your eyes with a giggle. 

“Getting all pretty for me now?” He teases, acting cocky as though his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his chest. 

You always get pretty for him. 

“I’ve been dying to wear this dress,” you say, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you twirl around to reveal your open back to him, not knowing how crazy you drive him with your action. 

Steve’s stomach flutters, his hands instantly itch to touch your bare skin, you look so beautiful. 

He takes a step closer to you and grabs your waist, humming, “that’s a pretty dress, I can’t wait to see it on my bedroom floor though.” 

Your cheeks burn and despite it, you giggle as you turn around to face him, “is that a King Steve pickup line?” 

He shakes his head, “no, he never said such things.”

“Sure,” you snort and tug at his hand, pulling him towards the door, “come on now, I’m starving!” 

Steve chuckles and nods, reaching for his car keys on the dresser, he squeezes your hand, “yeah, come on, before you get grumpy.” 

“I never get grumpy,” you argue as your lips curl into a pout that he instantly feels the urge to kiss. 

“You always get grumpy when you’re hungry,” he laughs. He loves it. 

Steve opens the door for you, giving you a sweet smile as he looks down at your pretty face. You step out and he follows, admiring the way your dress hugs your body, the way your skin glows beneath the evening sun, the way your hair shines, your perfume lingers in the air and he can’t help but breathe it in deeply, just the way he always did. 

Your hand fits in his so perfectly, like it belongs there… and to him it does. 

You look over your shoulder, giving him a cute smile that leaves him breathless. The golden light that shines down on you turns his breathing shaky, no words could describe your beauty, nothing comes close to it, absolutely nothing. You are stunning, bewitching, you are a goddess and he worships every inch of your being and you don’t even know it.

He wishes he could scream out those three big words, kiss you breathless and show you just how much he adores you but he can’t, he is too afraid, he fears rejection so deeply, so all that he can do is pretend, pretend that you are already his and live in this small delusion for as long as he can. He opens the door for you and winks at you, fighting the urge to kiss your hand before he lets go of you and closes the door only to grab your hand again once he is seated in the driver's seat, you lace your fingers together and squeeze his hand, unaware of the feelings you leave him with, with your sweet action. 

When he turns on the music and a smile appears on your face, you sink deeper into the seat and get comfortable, a content look on your pretty features. You look so perfect sitting in his passenger seat, next to him, holding his hand, enjoying the music as you look out the window when he drives down the road.

This is where you belong, this is what he wants, you by his side, for tonight and for always, he wants you to be his, his girl.

This isn’t enough, it never was, this was never just about sex. 

There was never an ounce of hatred for you in his bones, not in high school and not after. 

He felt bitterness, confusion, denial but most of all, he felt jealousy, he always did and he never understood why you didn’t like him, why you bickered with him, why you laughed at his poor flirting attempts, why you didn’t want him the way every other girl did, why you showed up for Lucas’s game but not a single one of his – that night isn’t one he likes to think back on, it makes him cringe and shudder in annoyance at himself for what he said to you, he let his emotions, his jealousy, his frustrations control the words his mouth left. 

He didn’t know that you were a friend of Max and Lucas, he didn’t know that you showed up for her, and for him, knowing that his friends were too busy with Eddie’s D&D campaign. He didn’t know why you were there, but when he saw you on the bleachers and he caught you waving at Lucas, whose eyes lit up when he saw you, he couldn’t help but feel jealous because why did you show up for a freshman, for a kid? Why did you never show up to any of his games? Why didn’t you give him the chance to show off? 

He felt irritated, even more so when he saw you talking to Lucas in the parking lot, smiling at him and congratulating him on his successful first game. 

He remembers the way he marched over to you, the way he started bickering with you instead of praising the teen he showed up for. 

“Are you so desperate for attention that you go for a freshman now?” 

He cringes at himself, even now, disgusted at the words he threw at you.

You looked so hurt and angry, you pushed him away from you and he never blamed you for it, you could’ve slapped him right there, he deserved it. 

He felt guilty right then and there but that emotion intensified when only a few days later he found out about your sisterly bond with Max and your friendship with both of them, you cared for them and protected them just the way he did. Before he knew that, he made himself believe that you were just a loner, a person too cold to feel anything, even platonic, he wanted to believe that he wasn’t some unimportant person that you crossed paths with, that you were simply unable to form bonds or relationships but that wasn’t the case, you had people you cared for, you had friends you would die for, you just didn’t want to give him a chance, not platonically and especially not romantically. 

He was jealous of anyone who was close to you, who was special to you but back then, he didn’t allow himself to explore the depth of those emotions that always lingered inside of him when it came to you. 

Now he can see them, he can feel them, he can admit that he was jealous and hurt because he is no longer ashamed to like, love you — someone who might not feel the same. But whatever the outcome of this affair will be, he doesn’t regret letting all those feelings in, especially now that you are here with him, like this, holding his hand and letting him take you out and show you off in public. 

He is allowed to feel hopeful now, he thinks. 

Indianapolis is big and no town people, no friends, no prying eyes will be there to see you both but you could have still easily said no to his suggestion because who goes out to eat with their supposedly casual hook up? But then again, what is casual about you both? 

Not even your first night together was casual. 

You kissed and held each other close from the very beginning. 

You stay over, you cuddle, you hold hands, even in public and when you are sure that no one is looking, you sleep in his arms and you make each other breakfast, you make sure that his favorite drinks and snacks are in your kitchen and he does the same for you, his bathroom and his bedroom are filled with things that belong to you. 

This isn’t casual, the signs are there and they are so very clear, tonight especially, when you make it to the city and you walk through the busy streets where it’s much more crowded and louder than it is in your small hometown, you keep close to him and hold onto his hand tightly as you lead him to the sushi restaurant that you have told him about on the drive here, the one you went to with your parents and your sister every time you visited your grandparents in the city. 

So many things go through Steve’s mind and so many emotions rush through him as you walk side by side, hand in hand with the city lights shining down on you both as the sun disappears more and more. He feels free, like he can do anything, like he can kiss you right here, right now, without needing to hide or drag you to a secret corner, he feels giddy, happy, he can’t even hide the smile on his face. 

Once you make it to your destination, Steve lets go of your hand and places it on the small of your back instead, he opens the door and keeps his palm pressed against your body. He is so lost in his happy bubble, he doesn’t even notice the blush taking over your face when he wraps his arm around you and rests his palm on your hip instead as he leads you inside. 

It’s crowded but he didn’t expect any less from a restaurant in a big city, he doesn’t seem to mind though and neither do you, especially when you get one of the booth tables, tucked away in the very back, next to a big window where you can see the city lights. 

You sit down across from one another, smiling from ear to ear as you look into each other’s eyes. 

“Hi,” he whispers, making you giggle. 

“Hi.”

His honey eyes look so pretty in this golden light, his hair looks softer than ever, his smile so big and bright that it fills you with hope, especially when it stays as his eyes trace your face, he is staring at you even though he could be staring at this pretty setting around you, at the decorated room, the string lights over you, the city lights, but no, he is staring at you and he is making you feel special. 

A sheepish smile takes over your face, a shyness that you rarely ever feel flushing through you, the look in his eyes is so intense that you can’t help but be the first to break contact. You lean back and cross your legs, looking around the restaurant you used to eat dinners at with your family. 

Nostalgia comes over you when a family of four catches your eye, sitting at a round table, they seem to be in a lively conversation, the two little girls laughing with their father as their mother shakes her head with a smile on her face. 

Steve follows your gaze when he notices the sad but soft look in your eyes. Something tugs at his chest when he takes a look at the family you are watching and suddenly your eyes aren’t the only ones filled with sadness. 

He leans closer to the table, placing his palm above your hand. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, watching the way you tilt your head at him, the softness in your eyes never leaving. “I mean, are you okay to be here… right now… with me?” 

There is no one else you would rather be with here.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you nod, glancing down at his hand, he is now rubbing circles into your skin, “and yes, I want to be here with you,” you admit, knowing how vulnerable you can make yourself look with such words. 

He breathes out a sigh of relief, his lips curl back into a smile. 

Steve keeps holding your hand, not letting go, not even when he decides to look at the menu, not even when the waiter stops at your table to take your orders, not when your drinks arrive a few minutes later, he keeps holding on and you let him.

Curiosity sparks in him when he notices the way you keep looking back at the family, a look in your eyes that signalizes the feeling of longing. 

“Blondie?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

You nod, “anything.”

You’re close enough to ask each other questions that won’t make the other uncomfortable and that is something Steve greatly appreciates, knowing that you weren’t here months back, not even close.

Steve blinks, taking a few shaky breaths, he keeps his hand on yours, tracing the ring on your middle finger. He clears his throat and looks down, ignoring the strong beating of his heart and the nervousness bubbling in his stomach. 

“Do you uh… do you ever think about it?” 

You look at him with big, curious eyes and it’s not helping his case at all. 

“Think about what?” 

“Kids.” 

You furrow your brows at his question but you smile softly and you don’t hesitate to nod, not even needing time to think about it. 

“I honestly want to… I miss having a big family, you know?” You pause and look down at his hand, wondering what it would be like if he had a ring on his fourth finger, one that would match your own. “I don’t care if it’s one or many, I just… I really want a family, one that is here with me, all the time.” 

Steve’s big hazel eyes soften and flicker with deep emotions. His heart skips a beat as warmth settles in his chest. 

He didn’t think he could fall even harder for you, even deeper but now as he looks at you, as he holds your hand and looks into your pretty eyes, he knows that he will never stop falling, there is no end, no limit when it comes to his feelings, to his love for you.

A future lies before his eyes, a future with you, rings, cradles, a white picket fence, kids that look like you and him. He sees something, something that is in reach, something that he hopes for, something that he wants with you without a single doubt.

“You will have it all, Blondie.”

You don’t know what to make of his words but whatever the feelings behind them are, you know that they are not what you want them to be, no matter how much his feelings for you changed, no matter how much hope there is in you, no matter how big it is, you can’t believe that the thing you have now, could be one for the future too and not only the present. 

You don’t know what to say without revealing your feelings to him, you want this with him and he can’t know, he just can’t. 

To your relief, the waiter brings your food to the table, taking Steve’s attention away from your face. You let go of each other's hands, thanking and smiling at the waiter. 

“That looks amazing,” Steve murmurs as he looks at the plates in front of the both of you, reaching for the chopsticks, he looks down at them, growing a little nervous, he never used them before. 

“It does,” you nod with a smile on your face, “hey, this is special, Steve. I’m getting my first sushi with you.” You say with a giggle, making his chest flutter. 

“I thought you had some before.” 

“Yeah, stole some from my dad but I never actually had a plate for myself,” you chuckle. 

“Well, I’m glad we share some firsts together then because I never tried them before, at all,” he grins. 

You can tell by the way he is holding the chopsticks wrongly, looking down at them with furrowed brows and pursed lips. He looks so cute like this but a part of you wants to laugh even though you can’t even use them properly yourself. You have seen your dad using them every time you came here to eat, but you never tried it yourself. 

“I can tell,” you murmur, unable to hide the giggle when he tries to pick up a roll but fails to do so. 

He snorts and shoots you a playful glare. 

“Go ahead, and show me then, Blondie,” he smirks at you, pointing at your plate. 

You clear your throat and place your chopsticks between your index and middle finger, you can already feel your cheeks heating up beneath his gaze. You press your thumb against the chopstick and bite your lip in concentration, glancing at him for a second to see him staring at you, making the warmth in your cheeks grow hotter. 

“See?” You grin as you pinch your food gently, growing confident when you manage to pick up the sushi despite the shakiness in your hands. 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling softly. 

You go to dip it in the soy sauce when your shaky hands lose control and your sushi plops into the sauce loudly, splattering over your plate but luckily not on your dress. You press your lips together and look into his eyes, you stare at one another for a moment before you both burst into laughter. 

“Oh my god,” Steve chuckles in amusement, ��you’re a great teacher, honey.” 

“Shut up,” you giggle and try to pick it up again. 

“Guess we gotta learn together,” he shrugs with a smile on his face. 

You do, you learn together and you share jokes and laugh at each other every time you fail, but once you get the hang out of it, you fall into a conversation about your parents, you tell him stories of the times they brought you and your sister into the city and Steve listens attentively, smiling at you and feeling grateful that you feel comfortable enough to bring him here and to talk about them – and you, you are surprised yourself when you don’t feel the cold sadness in you that you always felt every time you even mentioned them, talking about them with Steve feels… comforting, he is comforting. 

His knees touch yours beneath the table, the material of his jeans brushing your bare skin, his hand is close to yours, his pinky touching your own. He smiles at you, he laughs with you, he makes silly jokes and feeds you his food, his eyes never stray away from you, there is only you for him right now and as the realization strikes you, you grow hopeful again, your heart skips a beat at the thought that this could be something like… a date. 

You both want the same thing, though what neither of you realize is that you aren’t acting like two nervous people who finally managed to score a date with that one person, you are acting like a couple, not a single awkward moment follows you both, you are talking and laughing with each other like you’re best friends. 

“I have this theory…” Steve says before he takes a sip of his coke. 

You cock your head to the side, “please continue.” 

He places his glass back on the table and picks up his chopsticks again, he chuckles before he opens his mouth once more, “that Dustin is copying Eddie.”

“What?” You laugh. 

“Hear me out, for the past few weeks… Have you seen Dustin’s change of style!? He is wearing all black now! And his hair? It’s fucking long!” He exclaims, shaking his head. 

You’re a little amused by his sudden outburst, by the confused and slightly irritated look on his face, it’s cute. 

“Well, he sees Eddie as a role model, so?” 

"Excuse me?” He scoffs, not liking your words, not liking that the boy that once looked up to him found someone else, someone better to look up to. 

You squint your eyes at him and lean closer to the table, cupping your cheek as you smile, “Steve, is it just me or are you jealous of Eddie?” 

He scoffs again, waving his hand at you, “nonsense.”

“You’re jealous that he stole Dustin from you.” 

Steve shakes his head at you, “I’m not jealous, I’m just saying that– he is following Eddie like some lost puppy, copying him fully! What if he takes on smoking?” 

A laugh tumbles from your lips and Steve can’t even fight the smile off his lips when your soft eyes glow with amusement. 

“Really? He is fifteen, Steve! You were hosting parties at that age and getting drunk, he is not the twelve year old you once met.”

Steve laughs, he leans back in his seat and sighs, running his fingers through his hair, “yeah, I forget that sometimes, he’s not a kid anymore… he’s a teenager,” he chuckles, furrowing his eyebrows, “but come on… Eddie? Eddie’s sense of style? Is Dustin insane?” 

You roll your eyes at him, still amused by him. 

“So, you want him to wear polo shirts and cardigans instead?” 

His lips part and he pretends to be offended, “hey! You like my polo shirts!” 

“Yeah, not the point here.” 

Steve tilts his chin up, smirking at you, “you admit that you like them then?” 

You chuckle, shaking your head and hiding your face behind your hair as you start blushing again which prompts him to continue his teasing as he begins to reminisce about your shared days at school, leaving out the saddening memories and only talking of the good ones, the funny ones, memories of your childhood, of your time in kindergarten and middle school and how long you have been a part of each other’s lives and when you leave the restaurant after a long time, you reach for each other’s hands and entwine your fingers together without even thinking about it. 

You stroll through the city and kiss on the streets, like he wanted to all night and it makes you both smile, it makes you feel happy and free and Steve can’t wait for the day when he will find the courage to ask you out on a real date, to ask you to be more than this, to be his, like he pretends you are now as you stand beneath the twinkling lights, surrounded by people, surrounded by the sounds of the city and he can’t stop kissing you, not even when you continue your way to his car, he keeps pulling you into kisses, pressing his lips to yours, to your cheeks, to your hands, to your neck, over and over again, making you giggle and blush at his sweet actions. He’s drunk on you, he is so in love with you that he can’t contain it, he has to show it in some way, he has to let it out, even if not in words. 

Steve holds your hand on your way home, he kisses you at every red light and he sings along to The Smiths, you don’t think that you have ever seen him so carefree and relaxed before. 

And Steve, he had never felt this happy before, nothing, no one can compare to you, to the way you make him feel, to the love he feels for you, to the happiness that flickers in him every time you reach for his hand or bless him with a sweet smile after pressing your lips to his. Those three words that are on the tip of his tongue, beg to be released and he is so close to doing it, so damn close. 

You’re waving your hand in front of your face when you step inside his house, the heat of the summer night feeling too warm on your skin and Steve’s hands on your waist aren’t making it any better, worsening second by second, especially when he keeps making you laugh with his silly comments. 

“I need to cool off.” 

Steve brushes his fingers through your hair and tucks it behind your ears, “cool off? Why, am I this hot?” He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You snort and place your hands on his chest and run your finger down his stomach, hooking it around his belt,  “you’re such a dork.”

Your dork. 

His lips curl into a smirk, he leans down close enough that your noses brush, “mhm, you like it though.” 

Yes, you do, you really do. 

You gaze into his honey eyes, breathing in the scent of his cologne, getting lost in his touch as his hands hold your waist. 

“You know what else I’d like?” You whisper against his lips as you give him a soft kiss, making his breathing hitch and his heart stammer. 

“Hmm?” 

Steve blinks at you, excitement bubbling in his stomach. 

“A cold beer.”

He chuckles, he expected something else but he can’t complain, not when you give him another short kiss. 

You bite your lip and step away from him, letting his hands fall to his sides. You bring your hands up to the buttons of your dress, walking backwards slowly and continuing to gaze into his eyes with mischief in yours, you undo the top buttons, revealing your new bra to him. You almost giggle at his parted lips and the hunger in his eyes. 

Steve gulps as you expose more and more of your skin to him, he could fall to his knees right then and there.

“Don’t take too long,” you murmur, winking at him. You walk away from him and into his living room, humming as you turn on the lights in his backyard before you slide open the big glass doors and step outside. 

The night is quiet and hot, the only sound coming from the crickets and the slight rustling of the trees as soft wind blows through them and then Steve turns on the stereo in the living room, making you smile. You look up at the starry sky and listen to Steve’s footsteps. 

You push the straps of your dress down your shoulders and kick off your shoes, looking over your shoulder to see Steve rushing out with two beers in his hands. 

He places them on the table and steps towards you, tutting at you with a playful glare on his pretty face, “could’ve let me take that pretty dress off,” he murmurs and places his hands on your elbows where your straps hang loosely now. 

His hands are cold from the beers he picked out of the fridge, goosebumps rise on your skin. 

“I didn’t take it off yet,” you shrug, smirking as your hands find their way back to his belt, and you waste no time to unbuckle it. 

Steve smirks back at you, tracing your skin with the tips of his fingers as he slips the straps down your forearms and pushes your dress down, bunching it around your hips, he sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes grow darker, lustful. It certainly isn’t the first time he sees you like this, but his reaction never changes, his body always reacts to you, just the way his heart does. 

You look so beautiful, so goddamn sexy that it drives him crazy. 

Not many words are shared between you but the silence is comfortable and your eyes speak enough words as you undress each other, you take his shirt off and place your hand on his chest, staring at him in awe as he pushes your dress down and lets it fall to the ground, his hands touching your bare skin, fingers tracing your lacy underwear. 

With hooded eyes he looks down at you and he pulls you closer, “is this little set new?” 

You nod, your skin heating up again. 

“Looks so pretty,” he murmurs and leans in to press his lips against your neck, “too bad it’s gonna get wet.”

You sigh at the feeling of his kisses, breathing shakily. 

You start pushing his jeans down, looking up at him with pleading eyes, “take your pants off, Steve.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles and pushes them down his legs, he quickly steps out of them and bends down, hooking his arm around the back of your knees, he scoops you up into his arms, laughing at the surprised squeal that falls from your lips. 

You throw your arms around his neck and hold on tight, looking at him bewildered while he smirks smugly. 

“What are you doing?” 

He steps closer to the edge of his pool, “what do you think I’m doing?” He chuckles, not giving you time to react before he tightens his hold on you and takes another step forward, jumping into the pool and crashing into the water with you, letting the cold envelope you both. 

And you feel it, you feel the freezing water on your skin, the goosebumps that rise and the shivers that ripple through you but not even this takes away the heat you feel inside of you. You taste the chlorine on your lips and you feel his hands on your waist as he pulls you back up with him. 

“Is that cool enough for you, honey?” He asks breathily as he wipes his hand down his face and shakes his head to get the water out of his hair. 

You giggle and stretch your arms out, “mhm, the water feels nice,” you murmur and tilt your head up, glancing at the stars in the sky, smiling at the sound of one of yours and his favorite songs playing on the stereo. 

Steve starts humming along, his eyes tracing your pretty features, your wet hair that still somehow looks just as perfect as it did before, water rolls down your face, your lacy bra now clinging even more to your skin making his hands itch for you. 

The water sloshes around him as he moves closer to you, wanting to feel your body back against his but you seem to have different ideas because when you notice him inching closer to you, you give him a teasing smirk before you turn around and start swimming. 

“Hey!” 

You giggle at the disappointed sound in his voice, that sighs that follows after. 

You feel his hand brushing your foot but unable to get a hold of you, you pick up your pace and start swimming faster, pushing against the water stronger, “you can’t catch me, Lego Head.”

He shakes his head, letting out a laugh. 

“You think you can get away from me?” He teases, diving deeper into the water, he starts swimming after you, “I was a lifeguard, honey.”

“Yeah, you’ve been bragging about it for three years now,” you snort and dare to take a look over your shoulder, “you must’ve been a bad one, ice cream man.”

He laughs again, amused by your comment and by how you slowed down. 

“You’re so funny.”

“I know,” you smirk and turn around again, thinking you can still get away from him but Steve is close, so very close. This time he catches you by your ankle, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back, chuckling at the squeal that falls from your lips, he grabs your waist and embraces you with his arms, pulling against his chest, he holds you tightly, chuckling at the pout on your lips when you look back at him with a frown on your face. 

“Not fair,” you whine and wiggle against him which prompts you to press yourself harder into his chest, into his front, you can feel his bulge against your butt, you can feel how hot his skin is despite the cool water, his hot breath on your shoulder, his lips on your neck. 

You breathe in shakily, the heat inside of you rushing into your core, making you press your legs together as a deep longing takes over you. 

“Guess you’re not that fast after all, huh?” He teases, loving the way your bare skin feels against his. “Didn’t even take me thirty seconds to catch you.” 

You hold onto him tighter, glancing at his lips before your eyes lock with his again, “maybe I just let you catch me.” 

He chuckles, adoring the way you look at him. 

“Yeah sure, Blondie.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around your waist as he starts guiding you away from the middle of the pool and towards the stairs. 

“So what now, do you plan on drowning me?” You joke. 

The water gets lower and lower, exposing your upper body to the cooling wind, making you shiver a little. 

“No, too late for that,” he jokes back with a chuckle, “but I am thinking of something.” 

You tilt your head to the side and raise your brows at him. He moves away from behind you and reaches for your hand as he takes three steps up the stairs, enough to still be in the water once he sits down before you. He licks his lips as he looks you up and down with need and adoration in his eyes, he admires your body, your curves, you. He pulls you a little closer, the water is still hiding your hips, your legs that he loves having wrapped around his waist and his head. 

“What?” You ask softly and curiously. 

Steve looks at you with hooded eyes, with cheeks glowing pink and lips begging to be kissed. 

“I want to fuck you, right here, right now, in my pool, and–” he rasps, glancing up at the sky above you, he points his finger up, “under the full moon.”

Your eyes widen at his words, butterflies that never die growing wild in your stomach, your kneels almost buckle and you have to press your thighs together. 

You follow his gaze and frown when you only see the stars in the sky and the quarter of the moon. 

“That’s not a full moon, Steve–” you gasp when you suddenly feel his hands on your waist and he forces you closer, prompting you to straddle his waist. Your knees hit the steps he’s sitting on, your arms wrap around his neck instinctively. 

“You’re a stupid moron,” you whisper with no venom in your voice or your eyes. 

Steve blinks, smirking at you. 

“And you are too naive,” he whispers back, squeezing your waist as you lean into each other, not even noticing that you did as you shared your soft whispers. 

You smile at one another, your noses brushes and you close your eyes as your lips meet in a soft kiss, a kiss enough to steal your breath. 

You move your palm down his strong shoulder, squeezing his bicep and resting your other hand on his back, deepening the kiss as he parts your lips with his tongue, blessing you with the sound of his moan. 

Steve runs his hand down your waist and to your hips, gripping your body tightly, pulling you closer and closer until you’re flush against him. He can’t help but gasp when you grind against his erection, filling him with more need. 

Your soft kiss grows faster, hungrier, needy but still passionate and despite the lack of air, you don’t pull away just yet. You run your hand down his hairy chest, his stomach, making him shiver against you. You tug at his boxers, pulling them down just far enough for you to wrap your hand around his dick. 

“Baby,” he whispers against your lips, continuing to press kisses to your mouth as he tugs at your panties, “let me–”

“No,” you whisper as you jerk him off slowly, pumping him a few times and teasing his slit with your thumb, “I need you.” 

You don’t need no preparation, you don’t need his fingers or his tongue, not right now, you only need him, to feel him, all of him. 

“F-Fuck,” he breathes shakily, moaning at the feeling of your soft hand around him, “please… I want you, I need you so bad.”

You whimper as his fingers dig deeper into your skin, his words rushing to your heart and your core. 

You push your panties to the side and waste no other second to guide him to your entrance, looking into his pleading eyes that watch you in awe as you sink down on him, taking him slowly and moaning out his name in pleasure as your eyebrows scrunch together. The water pressure making it a little harder to do so, and it is a weird yet not unpleasant feeling. 

“J-Just like that, baby,” he whimpers, his hands holding you tightly, his eyes flickering between your face and your body, the pleasure in him growing deeper and stronger, “you’re doing so well… fuck… you feel so good,” he groans when he feels your warmth enveloping him fully. 

His right hand settles on your lower back, moving up to the middle and the top and then he wraps his hand around the back of your neck so he can pull you even closer, he presses his lips back to yours, pecking them one, two, three times. 

“Steve,” you whimper, tears brimming in your eyes from the pleasure in your body, from the size of him. You bite down on your lip and suppress a moan, when you’re fully seated on top of him, you feel a wave of different emotions rushing through you. His kisses, his touches, his hugs and his compliments, the sweet things he says to you, the sweet things he does for you overwhelming you in the best way possible. 

Something changed, something was different today, this feels different. 

You pull him into an even deeper kiss than before, letting your emotions take full control over your actions. 

Steve doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the sudden kiss, he even smiles into it, feeling his heart beating in joy. 

You start riding him slowly, moving your hips at a torturing pace as you’re still getting used to his size. You’re clenching around him, your slick coating his dick and Steve feels it all so intensely. 

The strap of your bra slips down your wet arm but you don’t bother to fix it.

Steve cups your cheeks as your tongues clash together, your needy whimpers vibrate against his lips but he notices how quiet they sound compared to moans and screams you let out when you’re in his bed. 

“Let them out, baby,” he murmurs as you both pull away from the kiss, your breaths mingling together as your lips keep brushing against one another. He tucks your wet hair behind your ears and slips his hands down your body, settling on your hips, he gives you a lazy smile, his eyes already fucked out, “let me hear your pretty moans,” he whispers, trying to coax his favorite sounds out of you as he starts fucking up into you. 

You gasp and hold on tighter, furrowing your eyebrows even more, the feeling of him splitting you open, fucking you deeper making you whimper in need. 

“P-Public, neighbors might hear, Steve–” You whine as you meet his thrusts, continuing to roll your hips despite the nervousness that lingers in you from not wanting to get caught, but it’s hard to keep quiet when he feels so good. 

Steve couldn’t care less about his neighbors, the bushes around his house hide his backyard well enough, there is no need to worry. 

“Let them hear,” he whispers into your neck as he presses his lips to your delicate skin. 

Your heart stutters in your chest, surprise sparks in you because he wants people to hear you, both of you, he doesn’t care about hiding, he didn’t care about it at all today. 

His strong hands hold your hips, his cock sliding in and out of you, sending waves of pleasure through your belly, his moans echo through the night and you can’t help but get lost in the moment of this. 

You bury your fingers in his hair and your face in his neck, whining as you pick up the pace, riding him faster than before, causing the water to splash around you both. His chest hair brushes against your boobs, his lips suck on your skin, his moans vibrate against you as he kisses you through it all. 

“Just like that,” he hums, satisfaction tugging at him when he feels you drooling over his neck, your hot tears falling down on his skin, “look at me, honey, I wanna see your face.” 

You gather your strength to pull back far enough for him to see you and those tears he caused to fall from your eyes. You’re whimpering and clenching around him tightly, making him match the sounds that fall from your lips. 

His hazel eyes are dark, his lips puffy and cheeks redder than before, his wet skin glowing under the string lights in his backyard. God, he looks so beautiful, especially when he is moaning your name and clinging to you. 

He cups the side of your face and you make his heart flutter in his chest when you lean into his touch. 

For a moment, he leans back the slightest bit just to see you, to watch how you ride him, how you take him, how much pleasure he brings you, how your face scrunches up so prettily, how your lips curl into a pout, how your boobs threaten to spill out of your bra as you bounce on his dick, whimpering his name, over and over again. 

God, he loves you, he loves you so fucking much that it physically hurts him to hide those words from you, everything inside of him screams at him to say them, to let you know, to confess to you, to show you how much he wants you, how deep his feelings for you are. 

His own eyes burn with tears, pleasure and emotions mixing together as he watches you, convinced that there is something behind your eyes as well, feelings, adoration, love. 

There has to be something, right? 

You wouldn’t hold his hand just for the fun of it, you wouldn’t kiss him and let him feel you, have you like this if there wasn’t something in your heart for him. You wouldn’t spend nights in his arms and dinners with him if it was casual. 

It’s not casual, it just can’t be. 

You have to feel it too, you have to feel the love. 

You just have to. 

Your name falls from his lips and when you wrap your arms around him again and you lean your forehead against his, gazing into his eyes with something, you grow tighter around him, making his moans louder. 

I love you. 

He traces words into your skin that he can’t say out loud because he is too afraid to lose you because while there is hope in him, there is also fear, fear that he is misunderstanding something again. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

Steve wants to whisper them to you, to say them to you, to scream them out into the open for the whole world to hear. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, making your heart explode in your chest. 

“So are you,” you whisper back, shakily, wishing you could say something else, something more. 

Steve looks up at you as though you’re something special, like you aren’t the girl he once hated, like you are his and it prompts you to peck his lips, over and over again just the way he always does to you. 

Waves of pleasure crash over the both of you as you chase your high together, you moan against each others lips as his hand moves down your stomach and his fingers settle between your thighs, no words are spoken anymore when he presses against your clit gently, rubbing circles against your sensitive nub, your high pitched moans, his deep thrusts and the begging looks in both your eyes are enough. 

You kiss and you both move, faster than before, you cling to one another harder, stronger, deeper than ever, your lips moving feverishly with each other, desperation and love behind all your movements, a searing heat cursing through you both, overwhelming your poor hearts that long for each other so pleadingly. 

And when you both reach your peak, Steve has to press his lips strongly to yours so he doesn’t spill the words that become harder to keep in. He kisses you for as long as he can, he kisses you through your high and through the aftermath, your movements slow down and your hearts beat slower, he still doesn’t pull away, if anything, he tightens his arms around you, not wanting this moment to end, not wanting this night to end. 

He wants to smile, he wants to feel happy but a part of him is so scared, after tonight especially. 

You showed him something that he could lose at any given moment, you made him feel things he didn’t even think he was capable of feeling, you lit the fire inside of him again, you made his heart feel again, you made him love again, stronger than he ever did before, he didn’t even think a love like this was possible, he didn’t think he could love so deeply. 

What will there be if he loses you? 

He experienced heartbreak before but nothing would compare to this, not even his first love could make him feel such excruciating pain that you will curse him with when you decide to leave him. 

His heart pains at the thought, it already begins to break just thinking of the possibility. 

Steve clings to you, when you pull away from the kiss, he buries his face in your neck and breathes you in, he holds you tightly as though he is afraid that you might disappear if he lets you go. 

He needs to feel you, he needs you against him, he needs to savor every moment you still allow him with you. 

Steve can’t bear to lose you, not you, he can get through anything, he can get over anything but not you. 

And while he is filled with fear, inwardly begging for you to stay, for you to be the one to be by his side – you are holding onto him with hope, with a smile on your face, unaware of the fear that lingers in the man that you love with all your heart.

You never thought you’d be in this position. That you’d ever feel like this when it came to Steve. You never thought you would feel confident in this relationship, potential, a future in it. The fear slowly decreases in each caress he gives you, in every touch, in every kiss. A fear you never thought you would lose in your life.

All you ever imagined in this love you had for him was pain. Everything ended in pure heartbreak and loneliness for you. Now, that image doesn’t come to mind. That picture you painted is no longer vivid in your head. 

And this is when you realize that you have a chance. You truly have a chance.

You decide to push it all aside, the anxiety, the fear of rejection, the fear of loss, you push it all away, no longer allowing the sadness and the fear to control you, if today wasn’t the push that you needed then you don’t know what else will. 

All the signs you weren’t sure of are there, they are there, colorful and bright, for you to see so clearly and you no longer move away from them, you move towards them, allowing yourself to feel hope that he can feel the same. 

And when you two go to bed that night after a long shower together, you cuddle and you kiss each other sweetly, whispering words of affection to one another, tracing each other's skin and holding one another tight. 

You make a decision. 

Tomorrow… Tomorrow will be the day you decide to confess. It cannot wait any longer. It cannot be postponed. It is inevitable, and you cannot handle the pain of loving him and being just this item with him any longer, especially not after this night. 

Having him like this is no longer enough. 

Keeping those three words in becomes less possible after every kiss, every touch, every whisper.

Tomorrow your life will change. 

And hopefully for the better. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

[a-spes]

| THE MELODY OF HAPPINESS - Drabble (1.043 words).

| Summary - they've always assumed that you were mute until you finally let them hear the sound of your voice. A part of The place we've been dreaming of' universe.

| Tags & warnings - Soft dark!Wandanat x Pet!Reader, fluffy/comforting, a bit of angst, mentions of past abuses.

| REQUEST GUIDELINES — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

Months went by, and the fall had still not come. But you are waiting for it, knowning that this moment will eventually come. It's inevitable, you know the rules like the back of your hand.

The first few days, they are always nice to you but it's only a matter of time before they reveal their true faces. At the first mistake, rewards were replaced by punishments, carresses by blows, and the sweet words by insults. You've fallen into the trap enough times to have learned your lesson.

At least, that's what you thought.

Months went by, and nothing bad happened to you. In fact, it was the opposite. The two women were great, and for the first time, it's not their hate toward you that has grown over time, but their love. Even the one called Natasha, who wouldn't allow you to be anywhere near her the first few weeks, surprinsgly changed her mind. She was now the one who sneaks you food under the table, the one who makes you sleep in her bed, who lets you eat all the sweets you want, and stay awake past the bedtime that Wanda has set up for you. Even if she was colder than the brunette, you liked it when it was just the two of you at home.

Not that you dislike Wanda, on the contrary, you like her just as much, but your relation is different. She is always watching you, and somehow always knowning what you need before you do. Despite the appearances, the witch is the stricted of the two. She has drawn up a list of rules for you to follow, and a strict schedule, she has read online that a routine was essential for pets, that it reduces stress.

And it was true. You've never been more content than since you've been with them, and even if some days are harder, you always know what to expect from them. You've quickly learned all the rules, even the unspoken ones, and you know how to earn the caresses you are craving for. Since you've been here, none of them has ever landed a hand on you, even when you accidentaly broke the rules. The angriest you've ever seen the women is when Wanda frowns, and Natasha mumbles in annoyance.

"Bunny, what's wrong? Why aren't you eating?" the brunette asked. When she lowered her head, she noticed that the food in your bowl was untouched, which was strange as she usually has to reprimand you for inhaling your food.

"Taste weird," you mumbled with tears in your eyes. There was something that you didn't like in your meal, but you couldn't exactly tell what it was. However, what they had in their plates smelled betterand you wanted it, even if it was, in fact, the exact same thing that was in yours.

You weren't crying for that thought. The tears were the result of your fears. It has been years since the last time you've talked. It has been so long that you are not even sure you ever learned to do it. They prefer it when your quiet so you made sure to keep it that way. You don't know what crossed your mind that night, but your recklessness may have cost you the cocoon you've built up over the last few months. Not only did you speak, but you complained, and asked for something that you know is forbidden.

"Let me give you som-," the woman stopped dead in her tracks when she realized that the few words she heard weren't your thoughts. It sounded raspy and uncertain, it has been so low that she wasn't sure if it was true or a trick of her mind. A glance at her wife, who was just as surprised, confirmed that she wasn't the only one who heard these words. "You ... baby, you can talk?" she softly asked, the disbelief written all over her face.

"SHE TALKED!" the redhead suddenly screamed, a wide smile spreading on her face as she realized what just happened. "She talked! Did you hear that, Wands?" she asked her wife who couldn't help but chuckles.

"Yeah, I've heard love," she replied before her gaze falls on you again. Except that you were not here anymore.

The second you heard the screams, you run away. You weren't supposed to do that either. When they found you, curled up in the corner of the room, concern gave way to a certain sadness. They may don't know your story, but they know all too well the life that pets like you have. It's rarely a pretty story.

It took a lot of time, and patience, from both of the women before they could hear the sound of your voice again. Now that they've heard it once, they wanted more. However, you weren't willing to give them what they wanted that easily, fearing they would get tired of you if you talked too much. But now that they knew that you were able to talk, it was unthinkable that they wouldn't train you to do it.

"Say it again," the woman whispered to you. You were both sitting at the foot of the sofa, a random show playing in the back, "I know you can do it. Repeat after me: fuc~," she said, but the redhead was stopped in the middle of her sentence by a blow at the back of her head. "What was that?!" she asked, glaring at the brunette.

"Stop teaching her such stupid words," she scolded the oldest. "You are supposed to help her learn usefull words!" she added, realizing that it has been a bad idea to let Natasha take care of that part of your training.

"That's not stupid stuff," she defended herself as she gestures toward you, encouraging you to repeat the forbidden word — Fuck. One laughed as she slips a sweet into your mouth, rewarding you for your effort, while the other one tried to keep a stern expression, rolling her eyes as she gets back to the kitchen.

| REQUEST GUIDELINES — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Tag list - @alexawynters, @caporal-nino, @chibilauren, @doveromanoff, @kmaxmadness, @m0nsterqzzz, @siljuskaz, @tobiaslut.

[yan-randomfandom]

Yandere!Stanford Pines & Borrower!GN!Reader

[PLATONIC] Borrowers are really tiny humans who "borrow" items and food! requested,,, am so sorry if this isn't what u expected 😔

Ford's toothbrush is missing.

In fact, many of his things have gone missing for the past few days. Did Bill possess his body again and decide to prank him?

His eyes catch color behind the toilet. Ah, there's his toothbrush. It must have fallen off.

When he picked it up, it was much heavier than usual. Of course, anything else could've been a reasonable explanation and not some tiny human holding onto the toothbrush for their dear life.

Ford doesn't let you escape, immediately bringing you to his office. You spit out profanities on the way, banging your fists on his fingers.

"Fascinating," he mutters, moving your limbs around. "You're just a tiny human."

"They call us borrowers," you say as you keep avoiding his hands. You notice something. "You have six fingers. Did giants always have that? Never noticed."

He suddenly feels smaller than you. "Not usually."

Ford learned that you actually lived under his floorboards. He had to compromise with you so that you would stop stealing his stuff.

"Roommates?" you tilt your head. "As long as you don't kill me, I guess. And I said I was going to return it!"

He doesn't believe you. He hums, scratching his chin. "Your species must have been hit by the light of height-altering crystals. I'm guessing the way your people survive is by stealing from others."

"Borrowing."

He gave you all sorts of delicious food. Well, they're mostly store-bought, but it's better than anything you've gotten before.

Not to mention his stuff. He had way more than what you were expecting. All the more to decorate your house and expand your collections! He's generous; you'll give him that...

There's something you can't shake off though. Ford's a weirdo if anything.

Bill Cipher knows about you. But he doesn't really care because you're just like any other creature that Ford has gotten. He'll only intervene if you manage to distract Ford from the portal.

So it's a good thing you're doing the opposite. You're actually helping in your own little ways, such as bringing him pen and paper.

Sitting on Ford's shoulder, you keep yapping about rats eating your house. He doesn't mind the noise, albeit he's not really listening, but it's so much better than silence.

He has fallen asleep. You grab the blanket from a nearby table and drape it over his body the best you can. This man does more work than your entire lifespan; it's so concerning.

"You don't want to try becoming a full-sized human? Why not?" Ford asks sincerely, almost concerned. You becoming not tiny is what you were supposed to be.

"Me? Turning into your size?" you make a disturbed face, "no thanks. I feel like my life would be more complicated. You're taking care of me, and that's enough."

He smiles. "Interesting."

Once again, you find him asleep on the desk. You search for a good spot next to his arm and curl up to his warmth, closing your eyes and drifting to sleep.

...You wake up to relentless movement. Looking up, you meet Ford's crazed, hectic eyes.

"You," he exhales, his voice sounding different. "Not here to steal my eyes, are you?"

Without warning, he grabs your body. You tremble. "Bill didn't tell you to, right? You're the perfect size to scoop out someone's eye..."

"Ford—" A bright flashlight shines on your eyes.

He forces one eye open. A few seconds pass. "You're, ah, clear. I'm so sorry."

The human finally lets you go. "What the hell was that?! Are you okay??"

"There's something dangerous here," he winces as he goes around the room, locking all possible entrances. "We have to stop everything we've ever worked for! What I worked for!"

He walks over to you, a smile curling on his lips. "Don't worry. I'll protect you, little borrower. Won't let him lay a single finger on you."

Before you could even blink, you're pushed inside something. You quickly run to the front, holding the bars that kept you away from escaping. "Wait, let me go! You're being crazy!"

"I know this seems bad, but it's only temporary," he replies, locking your cage. "Not until I finish the protection around the house. I'll have to call Stan..."

yes he has cages.... he caged shmebulock 😭

gotta thank @shabbyshoebox for this treasure (tell me if u wanna be untagged!)

[dark-night-hero]

if zhongli is the type to give us up to save the world, who is the type to give up the world to save us?

Imagine after thinking about it for the past few days. Scaramouche is the type of being, lover that would sacrifice the world for you.

"It's okay."

"What's okay?" He frowns, looking at your unbothered face as you continue to admire the scenery right across you.

"It's okay to give up on me."

Imagine as you smile gently at him, he scoffs. Crossing his arms as you look away from you to look at the stars but not even a moment later, he looks back at you. He was never the one to look at such things after all, nor was he the type to appreciate the little things in life. But ever since meeting you, he finds himself learning to slowly appreciate every little thing.

"Stupid." "Oww!" You groan, holding up a hand on your forehead as he flicked you real hard.

"You know I can't do that."

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

"And I don't want to loose you. We've talked about this already, (First name). Even if I have to ki- wipe out every single person in Teyvat I would do it just to keep you safe and sound by my side."

Imagine as you watch him from afar, a tear roll down to your cheeks. What a fool, you thought. You always thought it was alright to have the freedom you never expected to have. But upon seeing your lover, all bruised up and bloody right in front of you, fighting for the sake of your living. Maybe you had all wrong from the very beginning.

"The world want me dead, I guess that's just how it is. It's just me against the world."

"Wrong." "Huh?"

"It's you and me against the world. Don't forget that."

Imagine, you see. Scaramouche was indeed the one who had the right mindset enough to give up the world for the sake of you. But you see, in the process of saving you, you'll lose him. You see, he was strong. It's not a lie that he was strong and capable. But not enough for him alone to face the world.

"Please... That's enough. He did nothing wrong. It was all on me."

"Please have mercy. Let him go, take me. Take me instead." You cried as you shield him away from the world.

"What... What are you saying? Get out of here and hide." He gripped into your clothes that was slowly soaking with his blood.

"No, it's alright." You smile at him with tears rolling down your tears.

"No-!"

"My Scara."

"No wai-!"

"Forget about me, okay?"

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°

[ryescapades]

I am so hopelessly in love with Narumi 😩❤️ he’s such a dork

Could you maybe do Narumi taking us on a date please 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 it would be so cute to see him fumble over his words tryna be all tough while he’s hiding how much of a simp he really is.

a/n: was planning on posting this tmr but since its 500 followers day today, i gib yall narumi as a present 🫴 tqsm anon !! i hope i did your request justice tho

the fact that you’re dating narumi gen isn't a secret in the defense force, per se. it's just that you never really flaunted your relationship because the two of you aren't the type to overdo the pda that much.

though you'd argue that gen would immediately stick himself to your side if he so much as catches sight of you in his peripheral. but nevertheless, the most you two would be doing out in the open is just narumi wrapping an arm around your waist as you explain to him about the findings you'd made that day, professionalism still bleeding out of your mannerisms.

intimacy behind closed doors and away from prying eyes is always the sweetest, you'd learned (read: narumi just doesn't want people to see how much of a putty he'd been reduced to whenever he's with you. he has a reputation to uphold, after all).

hence seeing him suddenly and openly asks you out during office hours kind of brings everyone to an immediate stop.

"hey. get ready in ten."

that's all he'd said, after bursting through the operation room door and marching to where you're currently working. you try not to cringe at the way the other officers in the room stare curiously and in interest at the two of you.

"excuse me?" you blink. narumi repeats his statement, making you gape even wider in disbelief. "gen, i'm still working. and you're..." you quietly trail off, eyes questioningly roving over his figure that's still clad in his numbers weapon 1 suit.

he only stands straighter, the looming bayonet in his hand is held carefully so that it's not bumping against the tables and shelves around him. by his stubborn stance, you know you're not winning this one.

and thus, you find yourself at a small family restaurant in the nearest neighborhood located in the inlands of koto city, shoulders brushing together as you sit beside narumi who is now dressed in the usual defense force uniform (you guys will eventually have to go back to work in a few hours, sadly).

"you know... we've been together for months. why do you look like you're taking me to our first date?" you say out of nowhere, mindlessly staring as plates upon plates of delicious food are being served in front of you. your mouth waters at the sight.

oh, forgot to mention how red your boyfriend has been for the past thirty minutes. he barely even looked at you ever since the two of you left the headquarters, opting to hide his eyes under the foggy grey of his bangs.

narumi seems genuinely triggered by your question. "h-hah?! i don't look like that! what the hell are you talking about?! maybe you just couldn't stop looking at me because i'm so good-looking, huh? i knew it!" he gloats, trying to play it off but his hand grips the chopstick so tightly you're worried they might snap in halves.

"gen, i could feel you hesitating to hold my hand one too many times when we were walking earlier." you point out with a teasing smile, sending him into a frenzy of offended swears as you secretly eye the way the tips of his ears are tinted pink.

a wave of emotions rush through you as he continues to grumpily denies your claim, your chest suddenly feeling tight with how fast your heart is beating.

narumi's ramblings stop when you reach a hand out to tenderly hold his face, the other moves to run through his hair back to reveal the beautiful pair of rouge eyes that you've grown to love. "there’s my baby." you giggle.

it's like someone has turned up the dial on his internal embarrassment thermostat to maximum, his insides are almost set ablaze at your loving gaze. "w-what are you saying, you—!" blood shoots up to his cheeks, painting the soft skin a pretty shade of red.

saving himself from further humiliation, narumi pulls away from your touch and bites out, "start eating or i'll finish everything so you won't get to eat at all!"

you take note of the small adorable pout on his lips, and that each one of the food he shoves onto your plate is your favorite kind.

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[dustpages]

Jihyo's way

" Eton is the worst choice for him." my mum's voice echoed in the living room while my dad was looking outside of the large window facing Hyde Park. My parents were arguing about what uni I should have enrolled in, my academic grades made me graduate a year prior to my classmates in high school.  I was already 17, my dad wanted me to go to Eton College while my mum was pushing me to Oxford University.

"Come on, love, Eton is a great opportunity for him." He didn't even look at my mother while he said that, and that really piss her off. She had been fighting with my father about this for months, and I was quite tired of that.

"It's a boy-only school. He needs to learn to socialize with other women. Oxford is the best choice. It's in the top 5 worldwide." She declared with an angry voice and a red face. " You know how Nayeon is important to him,  she's studying there too."

Nayeon was the daughter of another doctor living in our building. She has been a family friend for years, and we really have a strong bond with her. We would go to eat dinner at her house every 2 weeks, and we've been sharing so many memories together. She was the only friend I had, being quite shy and introverted in high school it was quite hard for me to make friends.

I wasn't that good with girls Nayeon was the only woman I've ever been good with, that's why my mum was pushing for Oxford since she knew how important she was to me.

"You're just trying to make him get closer to her, right? Cause he's too shy. He has never been with a girl." My father snorted, making me blush and avoiding his gaze. That was the truth, but it was not like I wanted that, I just didn't know how to approach girls. I was afraid of being rejected or hurt, so I kept myself away from any romantic relationship.

"Don't be a dick. Oxford is a top tier University, and having Nayeon there will make college life better." my mother retorted, going her way. 

" Fine, Oxford it is then." my dad sighed in defeat leaving the living room.

Jihyo, my mum, came in front of me. I was seated on the sofa still a bit annoyed by my father's stubbornness. 

" Baby, relax." Jihyo cupped my cheeks kneeling down to meet my eyes. 

Her touch was warm and reassuring,  I immediately felt better. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. But I want what's best for you and Nayeon. You two have been growing so close over the past few years.  She was really happy when she discovered that you've been admitted to Oxford, she is eager to see you there." My mum patted my cheek, I blushed a bit since that was quite embarrassing.

"Nayeon really wanted me to get into Oxford?" I asked a bit surprised.

"Of course, she loves having you around her, you two are like siblings. She is very important to you, right?" She smiled at me, making me think for a few seconds before nodding in agreement. 

A few weeks went by and finally, the moment of moving to Oxford came, even if the Uni didn't start before a month.

Jihyo's POV.

" Baby, hurry up or we are gonna be late." I announced to my son who was running a bit late. 

The car was already ready to leave, with all his belongings in it. 

I prepared myself, earlier in the morning, opting to wear a light blue striped crop top and a brown skirt. I took the opportunity to wear my midriff-baring outfit since I knew my husband will not be with us for the drive to Oxford.

I had my hair cut the day before, shaped in a chin-length bob, with a fringe. 

My son ran down the stairs bringing his rucksack on his shoulder. His blue eyes pierced me from the moment he got to the bottom of the staircase. I could see the admiration in them, the way he gazed at my body was making me feel hot all over.

I smiled at him; I hugged him tightly, kissing his cheeks leaving a red lip-shaped mark on his face. I could see he was blushing; probably, he didn't want that since he was really shy.

He opened the door of the car to let me in, he placed the rucksack in the boot before taking the passenger seat.

" Let's go." I whispered to him, giving him a smile.

We left the house,  the drive would have taken around 2 hours.

" Baby boy, you are so  grown up now." I giggled as I looked at him.

" Mum..." He sighed in embarrassment, his blush was getting even more noticeable. "I am 17 and now I am going to the uni." He announced in a proud tone.

"I know, that's why I'm saying that. You have become a man now, with those blue eyes and that handsome smile. I'm pretty sure you are gonna attract many girls." I complimented him.

He looked away from me blushing even more than before. 

The drive was quite pleasant, from time to time I could sense his eyes on my body. I looked at him for a few seconds and that was enough to notice him gazing at my nude legs.

" Are you fancying the view?" I questioned him, smirking, I knew I had a hot figure.  

Nature got a big pair tits, and my dedication and passion for fitness has given me a firm and toned body. And that outfit I was wearing today was showing everything I've got.

" M-mum." His voice was shaking a bit, probably he was feeling ashamed.

"Don't be shy, baby. You can tell me." I reassured him.

"No, m-mum, it's just that I never seen you in that outfit. That skirt is quite short..." He trailed off his sentence.

I couldn't hold on to my laugh anymore, I knew the outfit was short but not that much. I could understand him for being surprised but not for feeling embarrassed.

The skirt was brown, matching my brown eyes. It was and high-waisted one, my legs were exposed for all their glory. 

" Oh, baby, it's not that short. You just need to get used to this kind of outfit." I told him giving him a smirk, he nodded slightly, still looking at the floor of the car.

After 15 minutes of driving we stopped at a traffic light, we were still in the city, and I knew it would have taken another hour to reach the motorway. 

"Son, in Oxford you are gonna live in a flat I  own. It's just 15 minutes walk to the Uni." I explained to him as we got into the motorway.

" And with whom am I gonna live?" He questioned me back.

" With Nayeon of course. She has been living in that flat for the past two years." I affirmed. " It has been refurbished quite recently and it has an open space configuration on the first floor."

" Oh, I see." He replied to me, still looking a bit lost. 

I knew that he wanted me to stay there too, but that was impossible since my job was in London and I could not have been moved.

I reached for his nearest hand and squeezed it gently, after a second I motioned it to my bare legs and placed it there. 

" Since you have been ogling at them for the whole drive." I announced to him with a chuckle.

He looked at me with wide eyes, as his face blushed again becoming red as a tomato. 

He gently moved his fingers on my soft skin,  making me bite my lip and moan a bit. 

" Mum, you are making this too weird." He confessed to me in embarrassment.

" Am I?" I giggled back to him.

I knew I was teasing him, but he was just too cute with his reactions, it was hard to not play around with him.

We arrived in Oxford as soon after, parking the car in the nearest park if possible. I took my son's hand in mine and dragged him towards the flat building.

We finally arrived at the flat I owned in Oxford. I rang the bell waiting for Nayeon to open the door.

The bell was ringing a few times, but no one seemed to answer it, so I decided to use my own key to open the door. 

The house was empty a note on the countertop written by Nayeon informed us that she was on a weekly trip to Wales with her cousins. 

" I'm not gonna let him stay here all alone." I muffled sitting on the sofa in the middle of the living room. 

" Baby go and take your luggage and come back here immediately." I ordered him. 

As a good kid he was he obliged and in a matter of minutes he came back with all his belongings, my legs were crossed and stretched on the coffee, my skirt dangerously short unable to cover my tight. 

His blue eyes scanned me from the top to the bottom, stopping at my legs, where his gaze stayed for a few minutes, his cheeks tinted in red. 

He placed the bags on the floor and came to the sofa sitting on the other side. 

" Baby come here." I patted my lap, he looked at me a bit confused. " I need to talk to you, and it's gonna be easier if you sit here." I insisted. 

He scooted closer to me lying on his side, his head placed on my tights. I felt his warm breath on my legs, causing goosebumps all over my body. 

" Is everything okay?" His voice sounded concerned. 

" Yes, it's fine, I just don't want to let you alone here. It's too big for you." I explained. 

He looked at me curiously, probably wondering why I was making that such a big deal. 

" Nayeon will be back here in a week at max." he replied. 

" I'm gonna stay here with you in the meantime, it's my house after all." I stated stroking his raven hair.  

His eyes went wide, it was easy to read his thoughts. 

"But where am I gonna sleep?" He asked me. 

" Don't worry, there are three bedrooms. Two doubles and one single." I reassured. 

" And where are you going to sleep?" He questioned. 

" Nayeon has her room with a double bed and the single room is currently used as a store room, so I guess you will take the other double and I'll sleep on the sofa." I told him.

" Never in a million years, I would let you sleep here." he affirmed his voice was so sweet I melted a bit. " We are gonna share the double."

I leaned down kissing his forehead, my clothed tits touching his head. 

" Really, I'm fine here." I whispered. 

He shook his head,  his hand grasping my thigh. " No, m-mum." he stuttered.

I looked at him and then nodded, a smirk appeared on my lips. " If that's what you want." I whispered to him. 

His hand didn't leave my skin, his fingers were massaging it gently. I closed my eyes enjoying his touch, my body started to react to his actions. 

A moan slipped out my lips, my thighs squirmed a bit.

" Mum?" he questioned me, my eyes opened to meet his.

" Hm?" I asked back.

He moved his head on my lap, the friction of our skin made me moan even louder. 

" Are you feeling okay?" he asked.  " More than okay." was my answer. 

 He kept looking at me with his splendid eyes, my hand kept combing his raven hair. 

" Baby, are you a virgin, aren't you?" I questioned him out of the blue.

His cheeks got tinted, and his eyes scanned the room before looking back at me. " Yes." he nodded. " I've never been with a girl." 

" I see." I let the conversation die for the moment, it was almost time to get dinner. 

" Baby, let's grab a bite in a restaurant here on the main street." I affirmed.  

He went to change his clothes to something more elegant, while I just freshened up not having a spare change of clothes with me.  

It was hard for an external person to think we were mother and son, my baby has grown up so much, he was tall and slender, and his body was still a bit skinny, but he had a great height which made his body even more appealing. He was wearing a black trouser and a plain white shirt, his hair was perfectly styled.

I could notice how many people were looking at us while we were walking through the main streets of the town, I kept my hand on his hip making my ownership of him quite clear.

We reached the restaurant, we decided to pick the one with a full window view of the street, it was late afternoon so we didn't need to book the table in advance.

I ordered a bottle of wine for us. I knew his father wouldn't approve of that since he was 17 but I was his mum and I wanted him to have a nice time with me.

He asked me about the University and my past experience there, we chatted for a while sipping wine and eating our food. 

My baby was looking at me with adoration like  I was a goddess. His gaze on me was making me feel so sexy.

" Mum, can I ask you a question?" he whispered to me as the dinner was almost over.

" Of course, baby." I answered back. " Go ahead."

" You're so pretty and smart, we both know what kind of broken relationship you have with Dad, why have you never seen anyone else?" his question was sincere.  

" I have you, baby boy." I replied. " And I love you more than anything. I don't need anyone else." My answer was sincere as well.

His gaze softened, and his hand caressed my arm tenderly. " Mum, I adore you." 

I melted a bit with his comment. We kept eating in a warm silence, the walk back was serene, he held me by my waist as we walked, his tall body protecting me.

We didn't talk much once we got back to the flat, I took his hand and led him towards the bedroom. 

My baby had no idea what was I planning to do, his face was blushed and his blue eyes were wide with wonder.

" Mum." he called me in a whisper, his voice trembling.

" Yes?" I whispered back.

" What are we gonna do?" he asked.

" You are going to take your clothes off." was my answer.

His cheeks turned even redder, he started to undo the buttons of his shirt with nervous hands.

I followed his motion, removing all my clothes while he remained with his trousers and underwear on. 

I pushed him to sit on the bed, my hand reached into his trousers to unbutton them and pull them down his legs. 

His gaze was on me as I kneeled on the floor and removed his boxer. His member accidentally sprang out and slapped my cheek, making me giggle.

His cock was beyond what I was expecting it to be, it was much longer than his father's and thick enough to give a hard time. 

" Lay on the bed with your legs wide open, honey." I commanded him, and as a good kid as he had always been he obliged silently.

His eyes were full of lust and uncertainty for what was about to come.  I sat on my knees in between his legs, his cock was standing up right in front of my face. 

My hands motioned on his shaft, stroking it gently and slowly. He moaned so cutely that made me wetter.

I leaned on his dick, kissing his head and licking his shaft from the base to the tip. His moans were getting louder with each lick, I could feel his cock twitching on my tongue. 

My lips parted widely to let me shallow him, my mouth covered his cock entirely it was so deep down my throat I started to gag. I bobbed my head up and down sucking his cock as best as I could, his hips moved upwards pushing the shaft more down my throat making me gag. My saliva was drooling down my lips, he placed his hands on my scalp gently guiding my motion without forcing me. 

With a loud pop, I released his cock from my mount, replacing it with my hand. I lowered myself down his shaft to the balls, my lips gave them a lick and his body trembled. 

" N-not there." he stuttered cutely under my touch. 

I smirked nastily taking a bit of my spit on my index finger, I rubbed his hole making it wetter. He tensed up as he saw me doing that.

" Mum, what are you doing?" His voice was so small and innocent, making me feel so dirty.

" Shhh, baby, I know what to do. " My free hand stroked his cock making him relax a bit.

My wetted finger pushed slowly against his hole, reaching his inner walls and curling down to his prostate. I had inserted till the second knuckle of my finger, slowly I started to massage his prostate gland with a 'come hither' motion.

" Fu-fuck. Mum...!" he screamed and his body was twitching under me.

" I'm cumming." I moaned softly.  Ropes of semen landed on my face making a mess on me, I swirled my tongue around my lips savouring his delicious cum. 

His blue eyes looked at me like he was possessed, his gaze was so heated that he almost burned me. 

" I'm gonna put at work that handsome face you have got." I affirmed mounting on his face. 

His tongue found my pussy right away, licking it like it was a lollipop.  I began to rock my hips on his soft mouth, his hand gripped my ass squeezing it firmly.

His tongue darted inside of my pussy tasting my juices, I moaned with my head leaning back and my eyes closed. I placed a hand on his forehead stroking his hair making him feel better.  I started to rock back and forward on his mouth, his lips were stretched widely, and he was licking everything of my pussy.

" You're so good." I praised him. " You're gonna make me cum." I declared as his hands gripped my ass hard. He was eating my pussy with hunger, making me shiver.

My orgasm hit me out of nowhere, his tongue on my clit was too much for me to handle. I rode his face squirting my juices in his mouth. 

His eyes were on me the whole time, he could feel my pussy clamping on his tongue as he was licking my cum off of it. 

I got off of him panting, my body plotted close to him. " Baby nobody has ever made me cum with just his tongue." I admitted. Our tongues collided as we kissed each other. His lips moved from my lips to my ear, licking my earlobe and nibbling.

" I want to fuck you now, mum." He whispered in my ear, his warm breath made me shiver.

" Take me as you please." I surrendered to him wrapping my legs around him. My pussy was still dripping from my previous orgasm, and his cock slipped inside of me easily. He bottomed out in me with one thrust making me scream in pleasure. 

He was filling me so well, his movements were slow and sweet. His hands were caressing my body, my legs were wrapped around him pulling him deep in me.

His cock moved slowly in me as he was thrusting in me from above. His mouth kissed my neck and my collarbone, leaving a trail of red marks on me.

" Faster." I requested him, wanting him to pound my pussy hard.

He obeyed me immediately, his thrusts were now faster and deep than before. I could feel him hitting my cervix with each thrust, it made me scream and moan loudly. 

" Mum." He groaned in pleasure as he was fucking me hard.

My hands reached for his ass, pulling him deep in me and squeezing it firmly, making him moan.

" That's it, baby. Keep going." I purred as he hit my sweet spot with each thrust. 

I know I was demanding a lot from him, it was his first time and so far he had satisfied me well over my wildest expectations.  

He raised his torso from my body, he grabbed my hips in his hand lifting my ass upwards. 

He started to pound me deep and fast, my tits were bouncing wildly as he was thrusting hard. I could feel him stretching me out,  but I couldn't care less, his cock was feeling too good.

" Baby I'm gonna cum." I screamed. "You are gonna make  me squirt again." I announced to him. 

His hand slid on my pussy and he found my clit with his fingers. He started to rub it making my pleasure even better. I was so close to cumming that his fingers were enough to send me in an intense orgasm.

His name came out my lips as I came, and my juice gushed out of my pussy coating his cock and balls.

I was a mess. He slowed down a bit sensing that I was too sensitive to keep going as his previous pace.

This was a kind of attention I had never gotten before, but I have to admit that it was pleasant. Even my husband cared just to pound me like a  slut when we fucked. I looked up at my son and he was smiling down at me, his face was red and sweaty.

" Rest your body on the bed, I'll ride you like you cannot even have dreamt of." I purred in his ear biting the earlobe. He nodded and did so. 

I took a deep breath and moved over him; I took one of his nipples in my mouth, licking it firmly. My son moaned and squirmed under me as my tongue was moving on his nipple. My other hand reached for his cock, stroking it firmly; he was such a sucker for the foreplay. 

" It's time for me to do a bit of work." I asserted straddling 

 him. My pussy still dripping wet and it swallowed his cock with ease. 

I started to move on his cock at first slowly making his eyes roll in pleasure. I could see him biting his lower lip, as he was trying to be quiet. He was doing his best to not make a single sound, but he was failing. His moans were so adorable, that made me want to tease him even more. I leaned in, my tits were just above his face. 

" Bite my tits." I ordered him. He obeyed immediately taking one of my nipples in his mouth and sucking it hungrily. I moaned under his touch, his hands went to my hips as he was pulling me down on his cock. 

The angle was perfect, his cock was hitting my G-spot with each of his thrusts, making me cum a bit each time.

I lifted one of my breasts in his mouth giving him the other nipple to suck. He switched sides immediately, devouring it in  his mouth like a hungry animal.

" More." I pleaded him wanting to feel his teeth on me. His teeth were so sharp that I knew they would hurt a bit, but it was just the right amount of pain to mix with my pleasure.

He obliged me immediately biting on my nipple with his teeth, making me cry out in pleasure. 

His hand moved to my ass squeezing it firmly as he was thrusting deep and fast in my pussy.

I kissed him torridly, my mouth swallowing his moans. I started to grind my pussy on his cock as I was sitting on him. His hands went to my ass again helping me to move up and down on him.

" Oh god, this is so good." He moaned in my mouth. I smiled knowing that I was satisfying him well. His cock was deep in me as I could feel it hitting my cervix making my walls clamping on it. His thrusts were becoming more urgent, he was getting close to cumming.

" Cum for me, baby." I whispered to him looking at him with lustful eyes. 

"Where?" he asked me breathlessly.  

"Inside. Do it ." I answered him.

His movements became frantic, he was pounding me deep and fast making me scream as he was cumming. His seed was shooting in my womb making me orgasm with him. I felt his cock twitching inside of me as it was pumping his cum.

I kept kissing him as we were running down our orgasms. My head rested on his chest, which was moving up and down with his breathing. His hands were still on me rubbing my skin gently. We lay down like that for a while dozing off without realizing it. 

I woke up before my adored son. I made up my mind, never in a million years I could leave him now I have finally someone who cherished me with all his essence. I was wealthy enough to afford to lose a job in London and relocate here to Oxford, the University would have been happy to welcome me back and so my former colleagues. 

My son would have been so happy to have me here for him. He was my only child and the love I had for him was beyond any comparison. I knew that it was not healthy to be in a relationship with your own son, but what is healthy in this world? 

His father, I didn't even have the guts to call him my husband anymore, only cared about his work and his new assistant. 

My son started to move in his sleep, his moans were adorable, they were making me feel hot all over.

I kissed his cheeks waking him up, his eyes opened and he looked at me in wonder.

" Good morning." I whispered. " Good morning, mum." his voice was still husky from sleep. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close to him. I felt at home, he was so safe and warm. He made me feel better than any other man I've ever been with. 

" Baby, do you love me right?" I questioned him. " As a woman I mean." 

He nodded immediately, a smile appearing on his lips. " Mum, you are the prettiest woman I've ever seen and you're my mum." I blushed at his words, I knew he was sincere and I loved him so much too.

" Can we be together?" I asked him. 

His face softened, and a smirk appeared on his lips. His hand went to my pussy touching it lightly. " Yes, mum." was his answer. 

" I was wondering if you would be down to include a third person in our relationship.” I told him, and his face turned serious immediately.

" Not a chance." he responded without even thinking. 

" Not even if I want Nayeon to be with us?" I smirked, I've always known he was fond of that bunny girl.  His face changed, he looked at me with a new interest. 

" Really? She would be down with that?" His curiosity was making him so cute. 

" I don't know yet, but we could ask her. What do you say?" I asked him.

He thought for a few seconds before nodding in agreement. " I would be fine with it."

I smiled at him, kissing his forehead and hugging him tightly. " Now, move your butt and provide some breakfast for the two of us." 

" Five minutes." he complained kissing pecking and pecking my lips. "Your mouth is so addictive."

He caressed my back slowly and tenderly, it sent goosebumps down my spine. 

We went downstairs holding hands, my pussy was sore but it was the good kind of soreness. He wore his boxers and a T-shirt while I just had on my panties and the T-shirt he was wearing yesterday.

He prepared two cups of tea for us and a big portion of toast with jam. We sat in the living room on the couch eating together and chatting.

The day passed by slowly, my baby was so loving and caring, he kept hugging and kissing me all day long. I loved the attention he was giving me, and his eyes were showing me that he was feeling the same.

Nayeon anticipated her comeback knowing we were in Oxford, she came late at night just before dinner. 

I was on my son's lap riding his cock wildly,  I was in heat and I couldn't stop myself from riding him like a wild beast. His mouth was on my tits sucking my nipples with hunger. I screamed his name as I came on his cock, his seed followed mine filling my pussy with it.

As we were catching our breath, we heard the bell ringing. I got off of his lap quickly, reaching for my skirt and top.

I got to the door opening it and Nayeon was on the other side, she looked at me curiously, probably wondering what I was doing here and not my husband.

" Nayeon! Come inside." I welcomed her. She took off her coat and bag before entering, she stopped in her tracks when she saw my baby on the sofa. He was still in his boxers, but he looked quite guilty. 

" J-jihyo." She stuttered.

" Hi dear." I answered her. I moved towards my son who was sitting on the sofa, and I straddled him again. I kissed his lips and I could taste the remnants of our juices on them.

" What are you two doing?" she questioned me and my son, she knew that we were close but I don't think she suspected us to be so close like that. 

" Oh, we are just discussing a few things." I stated looking at her. She was wearing a short white dress paired with black stockings and black high heels.

My son's blue eyes scanned her figure, and I knew he liked what he was seeing. I got up from his lap and motioned her to come and join us on the sofa.

" Sit with us." I smiled at her, her expression was still curious. She walked over to us sitting beside him. She looked at us both as if waiting for an explanation.

" You know we love you, don't you?" I started asking her. " Of course, I love you too." she answered looking at us with confusion.

" I will stay here in this flat, I'm in a romantic love with my son but we  have been wondering if you'd like to join us." I stated. Her face was still looking at me in wonder. 

Her eyes darted to my son who was looking at her in desire. " You know I have always had a thing for you, don't you?" he asked her timidly. 

Nayeon 's cheeks turned bright red, she nodded in response. Her face turned in my direction as if she was asking for permission. 

I smiled at her. " Go for it." I told her.

My son's hands reached her thighs and he started to rub them slowly and tenderly. I watched as their bodies started to react to each other.

She moved closer to him kissing his lips, their tongues colliding in a passionate kiss. 

I took the moment to watch them, their eyes were closed and their moans were filling the room.

My son was still in his boxers, and my pretty bunny had her dress and stockings on. I could tell he was horny as hell, he wanted to fuck her badly.

She broke the kiss and looked at me, probably wondering if I was still okay with her being with my son. I gave her a nod and she smiled back at me.

His had undid the buttons of her short dress, her tits were on full display for him and he started to lick and suck them eagerly. 

She moaned loudly and squirmed under him, her pussy was wetter than ever. I reached for my baby's cock and started to stroke it slowly. He moaned against her tits making her laugh and blush.

His boxers were off of his legs and I was stroking his cock firmly, Nayeon gasped as she saw him naked for the first time. 

" He is bigger than I expected." she giggled. 

I laughed at her comment, I was happy to know that my baby had pleased her so much. 

She removed her dress and she was just in her stockings and bra, her body was so pretty and toned.

She straddled my son, taking his cock in her hands and stroking it slowly. My hand helped her guide his shaft inside of her pussy. She was so tight that she screamed in pleasure as his cock bottomed out in her.

I stood up from the sofa, moving behind her. I reached for her bra undid it and removed it from her body. I massaged her shoulders and back making her relax under my touch.

" So good, baby." She moaned as she was bouncing on his cock. Her pussy was taking him in like a hungry beast, she was so greedy for his cock.

I smirked at her reaction, I knew what she was feeling. His cock was the best one I've ever had in me.

Nayeon leaned forward making out with my son as she was riding him more savagely, her ass was slamming against his pelvis each time she was going down on his dick. I smirked knowing he was loving that. 

" Baby don't let her do all the work." I observed sitting beside him. 

He smirked and started to pound her from below,  his thrusts became faster and harder. Nayeon was screaming in pleasure, her walls were tightening around his cock.

" Don't stop." she purred in his ear. " I'm fucking close." 

My hand reached her pussy rubbing her clit and her pussy lips making her scream my name. She started to cum on his cock squirting her juices in his balls.

" Oh gosh." He moaned, his teeth were biting her shoulder making her scream more. 

I removed my skirt and panties. " Baby take her from behind." I suggested him scooting a bit further away spreading my legs. 

He spanked her ass making her jump before pulling out, Nayeon lay on the sofa with her butt facing up. She crawled towards me placing her head on my lap, I stroked her hair tenderly.

My son kneeled behind her and pulled her hips upwards making her pussy available for him. His cock was hard and dripping with pre-cum.

I placed a kiss on her lips as my baby started to thrust in her from behind. She moaned in pleasure, as my tongue darted inside of her mouth.

She tasted so good, like a ripe strawberry. I could taste her juices in her mouth. 

He was pounding her harder, his thrusts were urgent and needy. Nayeon's pussy was dripping with cum, her juices were coating her thighs.

" It's too deep, bloody hell." she moaned breaking our kiss. She buried her face down brushing against my 

 pussy lips.

" That's it baby, make her scream." I purred stroking my tits with my hands. Nayeon was working on my folds with her fingers making me moan. Her tongue was tasting my clit making me shiver.

She was so good at it. My son was pounding her so hard that her legs trembling.

" I'm cumming again, fuck." Nayeon hissed squirting once more on his cock. My baby was moaning loudly, his thrust became erratic and urgent.

I lifted Nayeon's face, her expression was a statement of pure bliss. " Where do you want him to release?" I asked her.  She blushed a bit knowing she wanted him to cum in her.

" Inside." she whispered, her voice was small and cute.

I laughed and nodded, " Baby, you heard her. Do you worst with her." 

My son held her waist with his hands pounding her like a wild animal. Her pussy took him in, again and again, I lead her face down to town letting her suck on my pussy. 

Her tongue was so soft, it was making me shiver.  " I'm about to cum." He announced finally. 

" Fill me to the brim, do it." Nayeon cried out. 

He rammed a few more times before his cock started to twitch inside of her. His cum coated her pussy filling it to the brim. 

I screamed as I came, Nayeon kept licking me till I finished my orgasm. I was panting as I pulled her back on my chest.

Her face was flushed, her lips swollen.  My son's hands were still holding her waist, his cum leaking out her pussy making a mess on my sofa. 

" You're gonna need to clean that." He smirked pulling out of her pussy.

Nayeon and I were still lying on the sofa panting, she turned to look at him and kissed his lips sweetly. 

" As your girlfriend I warn you, I'm possessive with my belongings." her tone sent a shiver down his spine. 

" I'll be yours only, pretty bunny." he purred kissing her forehead. She turned to lay on her back looking at me with wonder. " Are you really going to stay here?"

I nodded. " I am. I want to be with my baby, he is my world now." 

She smiled at me giving me a sweet smile. " I'm happy for you two."

I laughed at her statement. " It's just the three of us now. No more hiding."

" Oh, I like the sound of it." She purred in my arms, as my baby snuggled on my other side.

...

Nayeon's POV. 

We were on a date in a small cafe, facing one of the most picturesque streets in the city. I was feeling pretty today, wearing a yellow dress and her hair in a ponytail. 

My boyfriend was telling me about my last class when the waiter, a tall and toned guy, came to us. He was handsome,  he had a messy blonde hair and deep brown eyes. His member must have been huge given the bulge noticeable on his trousers. 

He had looked at me since we entered the cafe,  he was checking me out like it was a sin to be that beautiful.

He was writing down our order,  his eyes were on my legs the whole time. " Here, can I ask for your number?" he dared to ask me in front of my boyfriend.

I smirked at him. " No, I don't give away my number to anyone." I replied.

The guy pouted, but he didn't look disappointed, he knew he would have got his chance sooner or later. My boyfriend looked at me and I saw his eyes getting darker with jealousy, he hated it when other guys looked at me like that.

" Don't worry, baby." I whispered to him placing a kiss on his cheek. "I'm yours only."

" Why should I worry? You just stared at him like  he was a meal." He replied to me back.

" I was not, baby, I swear." I lied to him.

" Whatever, I need to go to the toilet." he got up and walked towards the bathroom.

The waiter was coming to us with the order; his eyes were still on me. " You are too gorgeous to stay with a guy like him." he whispered to me. " He is too insignificant for a girl like you."

I smirked at him biting my lips. The guy looked at me like he wanted to fuck me right here on the table. 

" Maybe, we'll see." I giggled.

" Oh I have got a thing, you would be very interested to see." he asserted, moving his hand along the bulge on his trousers.

" That's gross." I replied still looking at him with lust. " You shouldn't do that." 

" You want it, I can see that in your eyes." he smirked back. 

" You wish pervert." I declared as soon as my love came back wrapping his arms around my shoulder from behind. 

" Let's go. I've had enough of this place." his voice was low and seemed calm, but I could sense he was pissed. 

We walked back to the flat silently he was holding my hand a bit more tightly than usual, a sign of his jealousy. 

When we reached the flat, my love threw me on the sofa and I laughed at his actions. He glared at me, his blue eyes were sparkling with anger. 

" Flirting with a waiter in front of me, that required audacity or stupidity it depends on the point of view." his voice was cold as the ice in his eyes.  

" I wasn't flirting. I was just looking at him." I tried to defend myself.

" Bullshit. He was eating you alive with his eyes and you were playing along." his voice got harsher. He undid his belt and unzipped his trousers, he pulled out his cock stroking it slowly and firmly.

I licked my lips watching him, his dick was already leaking pre-cum. His hand went to my skirt and removed it making me sit on the sofa in my thong. 

His hand reached in between my legs, his fingers rubbed my pussy lips and my clit. " So wet already." he commented sliding two fingers inside without warning. 

" You bastard." I moaned while he was fingering me rough. 

 His fingers were moving at an alarming speed inside of me. 

His thumb found my clit and rubbed it gently, his lips came to rest on my neck. " Now I'll show you why you are mine."

He removed his fingers from my pussy and grabbed my hips in his hands making me stand on all four. He pulled out my thong and his cock slid inside of me without warning. I gasped in surprise as he hit my cervix, he was so deep that I could feel him in my womb.

" Baby, slow down." I begged him. His grip on my waist got tighter making him push me deeper in me.

" No." was his answer, his voice sounded so cold. My ass was slamming against his pelvis as he was pounding me. His hands moved to my tits grabbing them in his hands. " Your pussy is too tight, you're making me cum." he whispered in my ear.

" That's the point, baby." I moaned as he hit my G-spot with each thrust.

His thrusts were faster than before; he was making my pussy take all of him. I was about to cum when he removed his cock from me, denying my climax. 

" The hell are you doing." I complained vividly.  He didn't answer me, instead he grabbed my hair pulling me up from the sofa. 

He made me stand in front of the sofa looking at him, he was still fully clothed except for his trousers which were at his ankles. I started to kiss him deeply, his hands moved to my ass squeezing it firmly. 

" That's how you should act, no flirting with others." he told me seriously. " Bed now." was his order.

I  obeyed him silently, he walked beside me till we reached my room. He closed the door behind him and locked it. " Remove your clothes." his voice was still cold, he looked at me as if I were his toy.

I removed the remaining bits of my outfit standing in front of him fully naked. 

"That's a sight to behold." he asserted removing his own clothes.  I lay on my bed spreading my legs open in invitation. 

He crawled on the bed never diverting his eyes from mine, he was making me feel desired. His lips traced a path along my neck, his hands reached my tits sucking on my nipples with hunger. 

His cock was throbbing against my thigh, his movements were so slow and torturing that I was starting to feel desperate. 

" Please." I whimpered. 

" Shut it." his mouth moved down showering my midriff with kisses till he arrived into town giving a long lick to my  pussy lips.

I moaned loudly, my pussy was dripping wet. His tongue darted into my pussy tasting my juices. His hands were under my thighs lifting them up. 

He sucked on my pussy, his tongue was dancing in my walls making me shiver and moan. His fingers found my clit rubbing it in circles making me scream my climax. He removed his mouth from my pussy as he tasted my juices on his tongue, he looked like a predator ready to devour his prey. 

He leaned over my body,  his cock found my pussy in no time and he was sliding deep inside of me till the hilt. My walls clamped on him immediately, my body was still trembling with my orgasm. His thrusts were deep and slow, he was giving me the sweetest of lovs. My hands wrapped around his neck, I was pulling him to kiss me. His mouth found mine tasting my lips slowly. 

Our bodies moved in sync with each other, he was fucking me so deeply that I could feel his cock head hitting my cervix. His mouth moved on my skin placing kisses on my body. 

" Oh my god." I moaned in pleasure. His hands found my tits kneading them roughly. 

My pussy clenched around his cock, my walls tightened making his cock twitch inside of me.

" Not yet." he growled stopping his thrusting. 

His face softened staring at me, he pecked my lips tenderly. " Nay, can I go a bit faster?" his voice was awfully cute. " I need you so badly."

" Fuck me hard, baby." I answered back.

His hands went to my thighs lifting them upwards and spreading them wide. His cock bottomed out inside of me immediately making me scream in pleasure.

His thrust became fast and wild, he was pounding me like a beast, my ass was slapping against his pelvis with each thrust. 

My pussy was stretching to accommodate his length, it was so sensitive that his thrusts made me feel so good that I could cry.

His eyes were closed, his moans filled the room, they were driving me insane.  " Honey keep going. I'm close." I urged him. 

His thrust became urgent, his cock was twitching inside of me signaling that he was close to cumming. His hands grabbed my waist pulling me upwards as he pounded me like a wild beast.

" You are making me cum again." I screamed releasing my juices in his cock. 

He was losing control; his thrusts became frantic. " Nay. I'm gonna cum." he warned me. 

" Pull it out I got a surprise for you." I told him, making him lay on the bed spreading his legs to make some room for me.  I licked his cock slowly and tenderly, his balls were still dripping with my juices. I liked two of my own fingers, making them glistering with my saliva.

" I'm gonna give you a prostatic massage." I warned him. His eyes were wide in wonder as I started to rub his asshole with my finger.

I knew it was a bit kinky, but he didn't protest. Slowly but surely I inserted one of my fingers in his hole. I felt him tensing up under my touch, but his cock was still throbbing. I moved my finger inside of him gently, it was the first time I was doing it, but my instincts seemed to work well. He was moaning loudly, his hand stroked my hair tenderly as I was pleasuring him.

My finger was deep inside of him till the second knuckle; his body was trembling. I found his prostate with ease and started to massage it firmly. My other hand was wrapped around his shaft stroking it fast. He moaned loudly, his body was shivering under my touch.

" Nay. I'm cumming." he gasped.

" Cum for me." I whispered back. His cock twitched in my hand as his orgasm hit him. His cum was shooting out in ropes, I took a few drops on my lips tasting them.

His body was relaxed, his breathing was slowing down. I laid on his chest, my head was resting on his shoulder as he held me in his arms. 

" Thank you, baby." he whispered placing a kiss on my forehead. " That was amazing."

" I know." I smirked kissing his chest. " But don't forget you owe me a round tomorrow" 

He chuckled and I could feel the vibrations of his laughter under me. 

Jihyo came opening my door. " Can I get him?" Her voice was almost tired after a full day at work. 

I nodded too shattered to do anything more than sleep. My love kissed me sweetly and moved to his mum happily to see her. 

...

Jihyo's POV

When I returned home from my last lecture I heard my son shouting in pleasure in Nayeon's room. 

Today I wore a simple but alluring sleeveless black dress that ended way before my knees. Students had ogled me during my lectures, my legs were toned and my ass was round. My black heels enhanced my curves perfectly, I looked like a supermodel more than a teacher. 

I took off my heels and coat before entering the house,  I walked silently till I reached Nayeon's door. 

I heard my son moaning and begging her to finish him. My pussy clenched at the thought of them having sex. I had never been with a woman before but I had always wondered what it would be like.

I pushed the door open slowly,  my son was laying on the bed and Nayeon was over him with her ass up in the air. 

"Can I get him?" I questioned, I needed him so badly. 

Nayeon let him go falling asleep before we left the room.  I took him to my bedroom where he took my hand making me spin like we were dancing,  I giggled and he laughed with me. 

"I love you, mum." He told me once we were in bed.

" I love you too, baby. I miss you so much." I admitted to him kissing his forehead. His hands went to my ass grabbing it firmly and squeezing it. I moaned in his arms.

" Did you have a good day?" he questioned.

" I did, in this dress I made turning  heads in the university." I confessed to him. My son smirked and pinched my my inner thigh hard a few times making me laugh.

" So nasty to make those students dream of you." he affirmed biting the point where he pinched me, my soft flesh 

 was red from his touch.

"I can't help it." I defended myself, my cheeks were red and flushed with embarrassment.

" Of course not. You are a goddess." He praised me. I blushed at his compliment and I felt so good in his arms. His mouth found my neck nibbling it tenderly. 

His hands went for my dress undoing the front buttons, his hands were so gentle that I felt like I was in heaven. 

" Take it off." He commanded me and I did so roughly removing my dress and bra. 

His eyes found my tits immediately as always, he moved his semi-hard cock closer to them. 

" Do you want me to let you fuck my tits?" I questioned him reading in his mind.  

" Yes, please." he replied me. 

He aligned his member in the middle of my breasts while I  squeezed them together making a nice cleavage for his cock. I stroked his cock with my tits making him groan in pleasure.

" You have the softest tits in the world." he praised me.

His hands were massaging my tits with so much gentleness, his member was throbbing in between my tits.

I squished my tits tighter making him moan louder. His thrusts were getting faster, he was about to cum. His face was contorted in pleasure, I could see he was trying to hold back his orgasm. 

His movements became erratic, his cock twitching in between my tits. " I'm about to cum." He gasped out of breath. 

" Go for it, baby." I encouraged him.

His cum was shooting out on my tits, he had cum so much that it was dripping on my chest.

" That was too good." He whispered placing a kiss on each of my tits. His tongue licked my tits cleaning his own cum from me. 

" Son can you go one more time?" I asked him. I know I was pretending a lot since he already cum twice tonight but I was confident in his stamina.

" I can try, mum." he answered me. I smirked at his reply, I instructed him to lie down while I mounted on him. 

" I'll fuck you hard, baby." I informed him grabbing his dick on my hand while raising a leg to make the access more easy. I lowered my body down on his cock taking him all in one thrust. He moaned loudly under me, his hands grabbed my ass cheeks squeezing them firmly.

" You're too tight, mum. I can't last." he warned me, but I was not listening. I started to move up and down on him slowly at first making him feel every inch of my pussy. His eyes were closed, his mouth was half-open.

He looked so cute and innocent that my heart swelled with love. I planted my hands on his chest to have a better balance, I moved up to his tip and slammed down violently bottoming out inside of me. My pussy walls clenched on him making his cock twitch.

" Mum, you're too good." he moaned placing his hands on my waist to help me move up and down.

I started to bounce on his cock at a frantic pace, my pussy walls were stretched to accommodate his girth. My tits were jumping up and down with each of my movements, he took one of my tits in his mouth sucking on it like he wanted to get milk out of it. His tongue was tracing circles around my nipple making me moan in pleasure.

I leaned in, kissing him deeply; my tongue was dancing with his in a passionate kiss. His hands squeezed my ass, making me feel like I was on fire, my pussy clenched around him, making him gasp in pleasure. I knew I was about to cum, I could feel it in my bones. My thrust became more urgent, his cock twitched inside of me,  and  it was signalling that he was going to cum soon too. 

I removed my mouth from his, my orgasm hit me, and my juices coated his cock and balls.

" I'm about to cum, mum." he whispered. He grabbed my hips moving me up and down on his shaft wildly,  his cock bottomed out in me again and again, and my pussy tightened around him making him scream in pleasure. His cock twitched violently inside of me as he released his load. 

" You filled me so much, baby." I purred as his cum was leaking out of my pussy, he was still pumping in my cunt. His left hand gripped my waist while the right one was on my head, caressing my short hair.  I smiled at him, my heart swelling with love for him. He was so perfect that I couldn't imagine a life without him. I was a lucky woman, he was my everything, the love of my life. 

Nayeon came into the bedroom naked as the day she was born, she seemed ecstatic to see us like that. She hopped on the bed wrapping herself around me and kissing my neck and shoulders. 

I pulled her in my arms holding her and my son with all my love. 

I loved my son with every fibre of my being and Nayeon, I had never felt this way for a girl before, but she had won me over. She was the perfect addition to our relationship. I would have done anything to make her and my son happy, they were my world and reason for existing. They made me feel alive like no one had ever done. Three is the magic number.

[luveline]

hey! would you mind writing sirius black x reader (ole flame or something) when they meet for the first time since azkaban at a meeting for the order? thank you and happy holidays!

thank u for requesting, hope this is OK! ♡

—you and sirius both get to go home eventually, 2.2k. fem

You were still kids when Sirius… went away. You thought he hurt James and Lily, and it didn't matter that you loved him because he was evil and cruel and he hurt the people he loved most in the world, and then you were outposted thousands of miles eastward, your life a shadow. 

Remus sent you letters. You always answered, even when it hurt, but his last was too much to believe. You told yourself that someone forged his handwriting through a curse or some new gimmick, and then a second arrived with a smaller envelope hidden inside. 

No name written on it. No Dear anything to begin. 

Things are different to what you've been told. Please come home, it said. This penmanship was shaken like a hand out of practice, but something felt familiar in the curves and dots. 

If Remus’ letter (and the second smaller one too) were in fact telling the truth, it means you did something awful, and so, for a while, you don't go. 

Please, the next letter says, again enclosed within a larger explanation from Remus, I'm sorry. I just want to see you again. 

Getting home isn't as simple as he might think. You have to picture the destination very clearly to disapparate, and you have no sustained recollection anymore of the places you used to go. You remember silly things, slices of memories; the four of them laughing in a big green field, the sweet smell of hair oil to your left; the beige walls of a rented flat where you'd lay in bed for hours, sometimes days at a time, before things got too terrible to sleep; a string-lit garden that last summer, hands of poker on a glass table. These places aren't real anymore. You can't go back to them. 

Upon your request, Molly forwards you an address and a secret code. 

Trains, buses, trains again. A long walk through a cold street. Some secret this or that. You arrive in the night and a frowning face ushers you in, past a painting sealed away and up the creaking stairs. You spend hours sitting on the end of a bed coated in dust waiting for the sun to rise, your back stiff with nerves. You could slip out before anyone else knows you're here, it's not as if Moody would give you away. But why did you come, if you were going to run straight back to your outpost? 

You don't want Sirius’ betrayal to be true, of course. It took your breath away imagining what it would mean if he hadn't done what you thought. If it's all lies (as it seems to be), if he's innocent as he and Remus claim, it means you turned your back on him and left him to suffer, and he's still asking you to come home. 

A few people stir for breakfast. Molly, who's voice you remember, and some younger sounding ones that may be her children, or perhaps the newer Order recruits. Then comes Remus’ voice. He sounds different. Less Welsh, more tired. Homely anyways as he passes your door with someone beside him. 

“...any day now,” he's saying, “try not to worry.” 

“I do worry. I've worried about it every day for years.” 

You freeze up. 

The stairs creak, Remus’ voice moving further away. “She doesn't need worrying.” 

Sirius must stay at the top of the stairs for a moment. He sounds close. “I wouldn't know what she needs.” 

“Come have some breakfast.” 

“I'll write her again.” 

“After breakfast.” 

“What if she doesn't come?” 

“After breakfast,” Remus insists. “She can ignore you once we've had toast.” 

“I forgot how funny you are,” Sirius mutters. 

Hearing his voice fills you with doubt. He sounds nothing like he used to, no easy confidence to be heard, just fatigue. 

You look down at your hands. Hearing his voice has a new emotion sprouting, too. When you first learned what had happened to your friends, you felt anger like a knife everywhere you went. How could he do that to them? How could he do it to you, be that person, ruin everything you'd loved and made together? But later, when anger faded and grief ached, you'd missed the Sirius you loved. Shamefully, in longing pangs, you'd toss and turn to dreams where things were different. 

Now there's a chance he might still be that person, and you're hiding from him in his own house. 

“There's someone here,” Molly says as you leave your room, her voice nearly too quiet to hear from the kitchen. “Moody's told me this morning.” 

“What?” Arthur asks. 

“Who?” a younger voice says. 

A small intermission of quiet. “Well, I don't know,” Molly says eventually, though she must have guessed it was you from the letter you sent. “But I'll need another loaf of bread. You'd better go, boys.” 

“Mum,” one whines. 

“Come on now.” 

The stairs whimper as you descend, the bannister sticky with old gloss under your hand. Paisley wallpaper and drapes catch your eye as you pass the overflowing shoe rack. There must be more people here than you'd thought. The coat stand is similarly overloaded. 

You can see into the kitchen as soon as you take the last step down. Molly stands wringing a dish cloth between her hands, two teenage boys at the kitchen table. Remus stands near her right with a cup of tea, and when he sees you, he genuinely smiles. 

“Oh, good,” he says, the scar that bisects his lip pulling as he takes a sip of tea. 

The teenagers turn to see you. “Bread, boys! Arthur, you can go with them," Molly says.

Arthur doesn't complain. You falter in the hallway, quiet as the trio of Weasley's leave the kitchen in their slippers to take a quiet exit from the front door. They smile politely as they go, but the boys whisper as the door shuts behind them. You wonder if they have an inkling of who you are, and then you wonder what you might say now they're gone. 

Molly remains, inquisitive to know that you need privacy but also the security of her company. She was always smart like that.

“Come in, then,” Remus says. 

“I–” You clear your throat. “I'm not sure I should.” 

A startle of silverware against china. 

Remus gives you one of his looks. It has tears threatening to well. Why didn't I fight to see him more? you think. Suddenly years have passed and he's changed, but his reassuring glances remain. It's like he's saying everything is fine, why wouldn't everything be fine? Chin up, dove.

Sirius appears in the doorway. Dark circles beneath grey eyes, his cheeks gaunt with hunger rather than the sleek sharpness he once possessed. He's still pretty, if wounded. It's as though you've found an old photo of him that's been smudged with age. He's stepped out of one of your moulding albums to haunt you. 

“Angel,” he breathes, his hand clasped low on the doorway, “you're here.” 

You look past him to Molly and Remus. There isn't a reality nor dimension where they'd let him stay here if they didn't believe his innocence. Remus explained it all in the letter and still you worried if he might have gotten it wrong, and simply believed what he wanted to believe, but it's not possible. Remus loved James so much, he would've killed Sirius himself if he really thought Sirius was the secret keeper who betrayed them. 

So. It's a relief to be home. 

You stare at him. “You look tired,” you say quietly. 

“I'm fine. I am.” 

He seems alright, considering. You'd even say he was handsome with his hair pushed away from his face, a dark shadow of stubble around his mouth, but he looks exhausted.  

You're expecting him to say what you'd say. How could you ever think I'd do it? 

Sirius was prone to similar bouts of pride, or righteousness, justice, whatever you want to call it, but he doesn't bother with that now. He looks at you as though you're the only person on earth, gaze narrowed but eyes wide, pain between his brows as he asks, “What's wrong?” 

Your hand finches up to your cheek to wipe the sudden tear away. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Your Sirius. 

“Don't be upset,” he pleads. 

“How can I not be? I left you all alone for so long.” 

He laughs roughly. “Sweetheart, what were you supposed to do?” 

“Not just give up.” 

“You thought it was me. That's the only thing you could've done. Either of you,” he says, gesturing backward with his hand. “It was hard… to know who to trust, at the end. It's not your fault.” 

You really were only kids together, not half as in love as James and Lily, but that doesn't mean you weren't mad for each other. He looked after you. You would've had a life, you think. 

“You were just gone,” you say, looking down at the floor between you, eyes tracing lines of wood grain. “Everyone. There was nobody left. And I just let you go.” 

“Do you want to come here?” he asks. You lift your head. His hand is barely in front of him, fingers open, palm up. 

It's like taking a stranger's hand for the first few seconds. You keep them low between you both, unfamiliar to each other. But, you find, as his fingers wrap around yours in that selfish way they used to do, squeezing rather than intertwining to make all of them fit, he remembers you.

You step a little closer, your arm to his chest, and look up at him through your lashes. It would melt him like a candle near a furnace, this look. He'd be smug or seething about something and you'd sidle in to stand between his shoes, unsure of what to say but determined to be there for him. It's the same now.  

“What's wrong?” he asks under his breath. 

“I left you all alone,” you repeat. 

“It wasn't your choice, okay?” He smooths his free hand from your elbow to your upper arm. 

Molly says something to Remus. He chuckles and says something in return. Happier to admit it if it's only for Sirius’ ears, you say, “I'm really sorry, Sirius. I miss you every day.” 

“I miss you too,” he says. 

You push your arms around his waist and hide your face in his chest, feeling for the lines of who he used to be, the dip of his spine in his back or the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts. You regret hugging him at all, until he puts his arm behind your head, a shaky breath released against your crown. 

I'm scared, he'd said. But I don't want you to be scared, okay? Barely twenty, he smelled of the sticky red powder on the end of matches after a night doing things he couldn't tell you about. You could tell him you loved him, and he you, but you weren't to discuss Order business. We'll be okay. 

But Lily–

Everyone's going to be fine. I promise. 

“You promised,” you say to yourself. Too quiet for him to hear, but he does. 

“I promised you so many things I'm not sure what one you mean,” he says with a disappointed laugh. 

You pull away, taking his face into two hands. “How do you feel?” you ask, ignoring the tremble working up from your wrists. 

“What?” His eyes are dark. 

“How are you? Did they– I mean, are you okay? Are you sick?” 

“Remus has patched me up. And Cordelia, the medwitch, you know her?” 

“I don't know anyone. I've been away.” 

He nods sadly. “Yeah. Well, you look the same.” 

“I don't.” 

“You do! You look the same,” —he almost sounds happy, his lips curling into a smile— “sweetheart. Sweetheart–” He closes his eyes. 

You push his hair behind his ears. “You don't look the same,” you confess, “you have wrinkles, right… here.” You touch the corners of his eyes. 

“You're still beautiful.” 

“Mm. You can't even see me.” 

“I don't need to see you. I knew you would be.” 

You rise up to kiss his cheek gently. “It's like you're back, like– like, I always felt like you were gone. And now you're home again. You are home, aren't you?” 

He covers your hand with one of his. “You're here, so–” 

You laugh together nervously. “Yeah, I'm here.” 

“I have stuff to do to make it right.” 

“Then we'll do it.” 

“Okay,” he says. He swallows a breath, and wraps you in a surprisingly tight hug. “Did you read my letters?” 

I don't want anything from you. Just to see you're okay. 

“I read them. I'm okay. Don't I look okay?” 

“You look perfect. Just like the last time I saw you,” he says. It startles you how suddenly he sounds like he did when you were young, his flirting drawl, voice velveteen. 

“Not like that,” you laugh. 

He pulls you as close as you can be, rough now, his arms solid around you. “I missed that,” he says, rubbing your back. “I forgot how you sound when you laugh.” 

You've led very different lives. “I didn't forget yours.” 

“You wouldn't. You love having things to hold against me.” 

You stroke his hair. “Maybe a little.” 

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part 5

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: I will not be taking tags for this series!

Series Masterlist

Benedict's eyes scan the words across the page. After your confession, he proceeded to buy one of Talbot's your poetry books.

'Tis in your eyes I seek comfort.

Your arms I find solace.

In your lips I find love.

'Tis in you that I find the whole world

Standing before in great beauty

But at an arm's length is where I stay.

The second eldest Bridgerton is in awe. Your words carry such deep meaning, a sense of longing. Is this how you feel? Had someone captured your heart and he was none the wiser?

So many questions have risen since he's learned of your secret identity. Your poetry carries a deep sense of love, desire, passion. He never expected such feelings to come from you. This is a completely different side of you he is now seeing.

In the past, when you shared your poetry with him, they had a light, romantic touch. A sense of naivety and fairy tale outlook on love and life. But as Talbot, it was different.

"Helloooo?" Eloise waves her hand in front of Benedict, breaking his concentration.

He slaps her hand away, "What?"

Eloise snorts, "I have never seen you so deep in a book before, brother."

"A few ladies mentioned Arthur Talbot's work and I figured I see what the fuss was all about."

His sister rolls her eyes, "Women fawning over men waxing romantic poetics. Typical."

"I cannot wait for the day you fall in love, sister, and make an absolute fool of yourself." Benedict stands from his place at the table in the drawing room. He steps out to see Anthony and Kate escorting you to the door. His eyes brighten, "Y/N, I wasn't aware you were here."

You nod to him, "Apologies, Mister Bridgerton. I was simply here to discuss...business with Lord Bridgerton," you gesture to Anthony.

Benedict frowns, "Why such formality with us? We've been friends for years."

"Aunt Eliza advises me that I should be formal with you. She said that there may be men who envy the idea that I am close with you. So it is best we remain more...formal."

Benedict's shoulders sag, "Very well. We mustn't deter any...future prospects."

You nod, "Thank you for understanding," you face Anthony again and curtsey, "My Lord, thank you again for the list." You then face Kate, "I shall see you later, my Lady."

"Of course. I look forward to spending more time with you."

You proceed to take your leave, Benedict's eyes following you as you exit the Bridgertons' home.

"Excuse me," Benedict murmurs, heading straight to the study and pouring himself a drink.

Anthony clears his throat as he enters the room, "Will you be okay, brother? Truly."

"I have to be. There are much better men out there that will be able to provide the life and freedom she deserves. I need to accept that." Anthony, approaches his brother and gives him a reassuring pat on his shoulders, "I commend you for doing this. It won't be easy, but with time, I'm sure you'll be alright."

"Yes...time."

_____________________________

"Tell me about yourself, Miss L/N," Lord Belmont says as he turns you about the ballroom among the other couples.

You have to admit that the man is handsome, "Well I love poetry and to read. I am a fair player of the pianoforte as well as the harp. I know Latin and Greek. I adore animals."

Lord Belmont hums, "How do you fare in the outdoors?"

"I enjoy my time riding and walking amongst nature."

The lord scrunches up his face and distaste, "Oh no. If you are to be my wife, you shall be inside at all times being lady of the house."

You look at him in disbelief, "Am I not allowed to step outside at all, my Lord?"

"Of course, but only when we need to attend balls or important festivities."

Thankfully, the dance ends and you quickly and politely excuse yourself. You head straight to the refreshment table. You grab a lemonade and gulp half the glass down.

"Are you well? You practically ran from Lord Belmont," Kate asks as she approaches you at the drinks table.

You hum, "While Lord Belmont is a handsome man, I do not think he would allow the...freedom, that I desire."

Kate nods in understanding, "I see. Well, onto the next then?" She hooks her arm around yours and guides you to the the corner of the room where Anthony, Benedict, Daphne, and a man you haven't seen before stands with them.

"Apologies, I bumped into Miss L/N at the refreshment table. She needed a break from dancing."

Daphne's eyes light up, "Wonderful! Miss L/N, this is the Duke's friend, Lord Montclair, a marquess" she gestures to the dark skinned man dressed in a navy blue velvet suit.

You curtsy, "Good evening, Lord Montclair."

He nods to you, "A pleasure, Miss L/N," he gives you a kind smile.

"Montclair, you have French heritage?"

His smile grows wider, "I do. My father is French. Have you been?"

You nod, "My family and I would travel there for the summer," your smile weakens, "Unfortunately, I have not visited for years now."

"I understand. It has been some time since I have visited as well."

You and the Marquess continue to look each other with kind eyes. Benedict hides his clenched fists behind his back. Kate watches her brother-in-law with careful eyes.

Daphne is beaming as she speaks, "Lord Montclair, Miss Y/N is well-versed in poetry."

"Really?"

You shy from his gaze, "Yes, um, my mother would read poetry all the time. I fell in love with it. I love how much emotion one can convey through few lines."

"She writes poetry, as well," Benedict speaks and you look at him in surprise, "The way her words can make you feel so much in small amounts of verses...it's a beautiful feeling."

You give him a grateful smile and turn back to Lord Montclair, "Mister Bridgerton flatters me, but I am a novice when it comes to poetry writing."

"I do hope I get to read some of your writing in the future, Miss L/N."

You giggle, feeling your cheeks heat up as Lord Montclair gives his attention to you, "Perhaps sooner than expected, my Lord."

Lord Montclair steps closer to you, "I know you are taking a moment from dancing, but perhaps you have space on your dance card for me?"

"Of course, my Lord," you offer him your dance card and watch as he scribbles his name in the next space, which happens to be for the next dance coming up.

"Oh, it seems our dance is here," he holds out his hand, waiting for you with a smile.

You place your gloved hand in his and follow him as he escorts you to the floor. You glance back at the Bridgertons, who all watch you with eager, careful eyes.

As they all watch you waltz with the Marquess, Benedict asks his sister, "Do you vouch for the Marcquess?"

She nods, "Yes. He is very kind. He enjoys reading and archery-"

"Brother, Y/N excels in archery, correct?"

Benedict clenches his jaw, "She does." His eyes never waver from you as you smile while dancing with the marquess.

"Looks like there may be some things they have in common," Kate says, eyeing her brother-in-law.

"How wonderful for them," Benedict murmurs as he walks away from his siblings.

Meanwhile, you and the marquess move along the ballroom floor with the other participants.

"The duchess tells me that you are looking for a husband this season," Lord Montclair says with curiosity in his tone.

You sigh, "Yes, and I shall admit that the search hasn't been very fruitful." Montclair snorts and you immediately apologize, "Excuse my forwardness, my Lord-"

He shakes his head, "No no. Please, continue. I can admire a woman who freely speaks her mind."

You nod, "I just look for a man who can give me certain freedoms. A husband that will allow me to pursue passions of mine, not expect me to sit there to be seen and not heard."

The marquess hums, "It just so happens that I am in the search for a wife."

You arch a brow at him, "Oh?"

"Yes. To be transparent, I have been grieving for the past two years at the loss of my wife. I loved her dearly, but I miss the companionship."

"I am sorry for your loss, my Lord. I also understand the yearning for companionship."

"Thank you. No one could ever replace, Maria, but I would like someone to be at my side as I continue on with life."

"Tell me about her," you kindly request.

You watch as a smile grows on the man's face. He goes on to share stories about Maria and you share things about yourself. You see the sadness in him but the willingness to put himself out there again. It's admirable.

________________________

You spend a large portion of your night conversing with Lord Montclair. The man was intelligent, charming, funny, and kind. He was the perfect man you see yourself marrying and yet...your eyes still wander towards Benedict. He spoke with some lords, danced with a few women. You knew you initiated the distance between you and Benedict, but that didn't mean it doesn't hurt you.

That man has held your heart for several years and it seems he will never reciprocate the feelings you have for him. So it's best to start the process of moving on, hopefully, with Lord Montclair.

And Lord Montclair did not disappoint when he called upon you the next morning.

He sat across from you in the sitting room, Aunt Eliza nearby going over some paperwork.

You look down at the bouquet of flowers, your favorite, the very ones you mentioned last night during your dance with Lord Montclair.

"Have you read any new poems today?" You shake your head and Montclair pulls out a book you are very familiar with, "Have you read Arthur Talbot's work? He's fairly new yet quite popular already."

You bite your lip to prevent you from bursting into a fit of giggles, "I adore his work. He has an impressive way of words."

He opens the book to a dog-eared page. He clears his throat and begins to recite,

To love you is to bathe in your light

To sway to your laughter,

With its melody and rhythm

To swell with pride when your eyes gaze on mine.

For that, I am whole

And you are forever my muse.

You felt a little...odd. Considering that not only is Lord Montclair reciting a poem that you wrote, but it's also about a man you are trying to get over. Not what you expected when you received your first caller.

"I believe that was one of Talbot's earlier works, yes?"

Montclair nods, "Yes, but I still believe the feeling of what he was trying to convey is very much still there, don't you agree?"

"Very much so, my Lord."

After some lengthy discussion about Talbot's work, you two move to the piano so you can teach him how to play.

"I never did have much of an ear for music. My mother was quite disappointed in me when I was unable to play any instrument she placed in my hands."

You chuckle, "We shall start with something easy." You show him how to place his fingers on the keys, giggling as you move each finger to the right location.

You continue to laugh with each other as you teach him the simplest of songs, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

As you laugh when he gets the wrong note, a footman enters the room, "Miss L/N, you have another caller."

Daphne enters the room and you immediately stand, "Your Grace!"

The duchess' smile grows at the sight of you and Lord Montclair, "I do hope I haven't upset you with my intrusion, but it is nearing lunch and Lord Montclair hadn't return. But I see why now." she gives you a teasing look.

"I apologize for keeping Lord Montclair for so long, your Grace."

"Nonsense, Y/N. I was just checking that our dear marquess is alright."

Lord Montclair chuckles as he, too, stands from the piano bench, "As you can see, I am quite alright, but I suppose I have overstayed my welcome."

You shake your head, "Of course not, my Lord. It was a pleasure seeing you. I hope to see you again soon."

He faces you, "I hope to see you as well," he gently grabs your gloved hand and places a kiss atop it.

He then bows to your aunt, "Miss Y/N, good day."

"You as well, my Lord," your aunt responds with a wave.

You curtsy to Daphne, and she and the marquess both leave your home.