#friend 2 gave me the dress

[heartorbit]

i'm sending this endless melody to a nameless you

[hollowsart]

Working on more magical girl genre things ✨️

[starheirxero]

okay no more nullposting. i need to draw bloodmoon in a dress

[dykeofmisfortune]

hateeee when ur venting with ur trans friends and they call u an egg 😒 like you're right i love you but guyssss don't say thaaat omg!

[artist-issues]

That’s It.

I’m tired of seeing everyone repeat the same four points: “1) Nani gives Lilo to the state! 2) Hawaii has a better marine biology program than San Fransisco! 3) Jumba doesn’t get redeemed! 4) Pleakley’s not wearing a dress!”

Those are not the only things that were bad about this remake. You could easily tell it was going to be all that and more beforehand, but most people’s reaction to the trailer was “it’s surprisingly good!” and now they’re acting all surprised. If you didn’t see this coming, enough to purchase a ticket, you’re part of the problem and you don’t get the original movie any more than the people who made this remake did.

So I’m done being quiet, this is the Lilo & Stitch 2025 Takedown Post.

And as usual the only good thing about an attempted-remake is that it gives people a reason to think about what made the original so good.

Let’s go in order. But just scroll down to the Heading you Care About if you don’t want to read all this.

1. Cobra Bubbles

In this movie, Cobra Bubbles is a secret agent hunting for aliens and they have a new character take his place as the state social worker.

The Problem They Were Trying to Solve With this Change: “We shouldn’t have a black man or a government worker feel like an insensitive antagonist to Lilo’s family.”

That’s a stupid surface-level one-dimensional misread of the character from the original…and it wouldn’t have been hard, at all, for a child to explain to the 2025 filmmakers that Cobra is not an insensitive antagonist in the original.

Cobra Bubbles is not insensitive and he is not in any way portrayed as a bad guy in the original. Nani sees him that way, Nani sees him as antagonistic, because he’s the representation of Lilo being taken away.

But Nani is wrong about him and learns that she is wrong about him by the end of the movie.

Can we please make a list?

Cobra’s first interaction with the caretaker of the child he was being sent to protect was that she ran out into the road, yelled at a complete stranger, and dented his car.

Then he found her locked out of the home and threatening the child inside with a hammer in her hand.

Then he found out the stove was on while she was out, and she’d left a 7 year-old alone.

The 7 year-old made comments about being disciplined with bricks and a pillow case.

The 7 year-old looks like she might be more than a little emotionally unbalanced because she’s figuring out how to put voodoo spells on her friends to punish them.

He still gave that pair of sisters three days to straighten the ship. When in actuality, in 2002, under HRS §587-73, (don’t play with me) the social worker would’ve been well within his rights to remove the child from the home right then. But instead he gives her three days to fix it. THEN

The 18 year-old loses her job.

The family gets a “dog” who he is implied to know is an alien, right off the bat.

The alien is violent and wreaks havoc across town.

The 7 year-old almost drowns while they surf instead of find a job.

He lets the child and caretaker have one more night together to say goodbye, but when he’s on the way to get her he gets a call that she’s being attacked by aliens, hears a chainsaw, and finds the house on fire.

Do you understand what I’m saying.

Cobra Bubbles had NO BUSINESS being as BIG A SOFTIE AS HE WAS for all of the original movie. He was not only well within his legal rights to take Lilo away from Nani immediately, but he was actually required by law, it was his DUTY, to remove her immediately. But he didn’t do that. Why?

Now listen to me very carefully.

Lilo and Stitch is a movie about how “Family chooses to love and commit to one another selflessly, no matter what the other person can do for them or how hard they make it.” The fancy way they say it is just “Ohana means family: family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.”

Did you catch that? “No matter how hard they make it.”

Cobra Bubbles was a CIA agent before this. A CIA agent who saved the planet, by doing what? Convincing an alien race to leave them alone. Oh, he didn’t fight them off? No. How? He “convinced” them? He talked it out? Sounds like a pretty compassionate guy, for all his tough exterior. How did he do that?

He could’ve picked any animal that’s actually endangered. The filmmakers chose to make him the guy who convinced aliens to value mosquitos.

MOSQUITOS. Creatures that give nothing, only take. Ugly little bloodsucking monsters. That’s the creature he convinced them to care about enough to save the planet.

NOW do you have any trouble understanding why this is the specific social worker who would give an alien-infested dumpster fire of a dangerous home a chance when two sisters are about to be torn apart?

Do you see that Cobra is just another example of the grace that the movie is always talking about? The love that transforms someone from bad to good simply because it refuses to give up even when it gets nothing out of it? I’m repeating myself because I want you to see why he was a well-done character who NEEDED NO CHANGE.

Cobra Bubbles’ character is not an insensitive monster who doesn’t care who his actions hurt as long as he gets the job done. But you know who that does sound like?

2. Gantu

Gantu is not in the remake at all.

The Problem They Were Trying to Solve With This Change: “It’s going to cost us upwards of 1.5 millions of dollars to design, sculpt, rig, animate, and render a character this big in addition to finding a suitable voice actor to play the part.”

This is a really dumb choice for several reasons. A. Without Gantu, there is no “stakes-raiser” to Lilo and Nani’s story. The movie has no climax without him. For the first and second acts of the movie, it’s about a grieving pair of girls trying to prove themselves to a social worker while the story-equivalent of Beethoven the Destructive St. Bernard wacky Jumba & Pleakley antics get in their way. But when a 40-foot tall alien stomps into their lives and abducts Lilo & Stitch in a spaceship that careens around the island during an explosive sky-chase scene, now you have a high-octane, somebody-could-die climax.

B. Without Gantu, Stitch looks weaker. The climax gave Stitch a reason to come out of the wackadoo puppy he’s been posing as and suddenly remind everybody that he’s a lethal weapon who can survive thousand-foot drops, lava, and astronomic explosions—and a giant alien’s Thanos-dwarfing fist. Take him out and who do we have as a match for Stitch to go up against, even for a moment, and prove how much he’s changed to be willing to risk his freedom and fight?

C. Without Gantu you have no villain to reflect that STITCH is no longer a villain. (So they substituted Jumba.)

But the reason this character is really worth millions is, again, the theme.

I told you Cobra Bubbles was a character who did not put “duty” or even “convenience” or “position” over the real lives of Lilo and Nani. He saw that there was love there, and in his own way, he gave it a chance. And even when he chose to take Lilo away, he did it carefully; he gave them time to say goodbye.

GANTU IS THE OPPOSITE OF COBRA BUBBLES.

Gantu is the insensitive, uncaring, unyielding Captain whose commitment to duty turns into rage and cruelty. Not Cobra.

Nani thinks Cobra is walking in a threatening to tear apart their family in a display of government judgement. But that’s what Gantu literally does.

His first reaction to Stitch is to call for his destruction. Without even waiting to see if “it can be reasoned with” like the Grand Councilwoman suggests. He’s merciless. He mocks Stitch when Stitch is captive. And he knows that he caught Lilo, a human, along with him. He doesn’t care. He even suggests that Stitch eat her as a snack.

There are only two other characters who laugh at others’ misfortune in the movie. One is Stitch, the original villain. Then love changes him. The other is Jumba, who made Stitch. Then love changes him. But Gantu never gets changed. He’s only concerned with his job, and with personally annihilating the flaws he sees in Stitch.

Gantu is unyielding, ungracious, and cruel. And he’s big and powerful enough to be a test for Stitch to prove he’s changed. For the benefits he brings to the story, he’s worth 1.5 million and more. But they cut him anyway.

3. Jumba

In the new movie, Jumba is a villain through-and-through with designs on overthrowing the Galactic Council using Stitch, and instead of being redeemed, he’s sentenced to prison.

The Problem They Were Trying to Solve With This Change: “We can’t spend money on our real villain so we’ll just keep Jumba evil.”

The reason this is dumb is obvious. They created their own problem, and the ‘fix’ makes the movie weaker, not stronger. But here’s how.

In the original, Jumba is introduced as trying to self-protect. He’s on trial, and he lies. But when Stitch is revealed, he’s genuinely passionate about the thing he’s created. And he cares about image. He prefers to be called “evil genius,” and he hates the headlines labelling him “idiot scientist.”

You have to remember he’s part of “Galaxy Defense Industries.” They had him making weapons of destruction anyway. He just got too into it with his genetic Experiments, went a little insane.

I’m not downplaying the fact that Jumba is evil at the start of the movie. He is. It is evil to be outcasted from society and then respond to that with, “well, if they’re going to treat me like an idiot, I’LL SHOW THEM, I won’t care about anything except my passion for mad science!” That’s evil.

But it also explains a lot.

I said it in another post. Jumba’s whole utility as a character is that he knows who and what Stitch really is, better than anyone. He made him to be a monster who can’t belong and wreaks havoc on everybody else’s ‘place of belonging.’ Jumba is the audience’s insider’s perspective on what is going on in Stitch’s head, at first.

But when he’s redeemed, it happens fast. And why? Because that’s how plain and simple Stitch is, as a character. Jumba knows Stitch is a disgusting little monster with nothing inherently loveable about him, and no “greater purpose.” So when his disgusting monster is loved by someone? When his disgusting monster is willing to ask him, Jumba, for help? Something totally outside his programming, totally not what Jumba thought he’d ever be capable of?

That proves to Jumba, in an instant, that there’s love out there that transforms. And creates a place of belonging.

There were already germs of that, a desire to belong, a compassion, in Jumba after he reached earth.

He doesn’t try to get Nani fired, he offers an explanation for Pleakley’s swollen head.

He claims he won’t hit Lilo (why would he care about collateral damage?)

He sounds sorry for Nani when she’s upset about losing Lilo, and tries to keep Stitch from bothering her.

My point is, Jumba’s redemption isn’t important because it’s cute or because we need to set up the big happy found-family trope everybody loves.

Jumba’s redemption is important because it is just one more PROOF that what’s happened to Stitch is so incredible. The love Jumba finds transforming his monster is enough to transform Jumba, too.

But sure, fine, whatever, make him a soulless one-dimensional talking head. Whatever.

4. Stitch’s Design

In this movie, Stitch is cuter than he is ugly, and he’s half Lilo’s size.

The Problem They Were Trying to Solve With This Change: “Ugly-cute doesn’t come across as well in ‘live action’ animation. And all the Wal-Mart moms remember Stitch as ‘cute.’ Plus we’ll save about 15% in rendering the animation.”

This is crippling to the characterization of Stitch.

Stitch is supposed to be an echo of who Lilo could become now that she’s lost her parents and may be losing Nani. This scene:

Where Jumba points out that Stitch has nothing, and destruction is his only purpose, is the evidence for that. But Chris Sanders, who made this whole story, also point-blank said it. Stitch is a future Lilo, if she loses her family.

So that’s reason number 1 that he should be her same height. But also, practically, no iconic pair of best friends, yin and yang, have visuals where one is smaller than the other. Especially not if one of them is supposed to be disguised as a pet.

The point is, Stitch is not LILO’s pet. He is her best friend, her other half. But between the muzzle-muscles they worked into his upper lip and the darkened dog nose and the butt-scooting across the floor, the remake is trying to make him more pet-like in relation to Lilo.

That’s not what he is.

I said this in another post. But Stitch is supposed to throw food to the back of his head like a gator—his lips are not designed for forming words. His gums and teeth are supposed to look like a shark’s. His nose is supposed to be too big, stamped into his face. His ears are supposed to be like bat ears, not bunny ears. He hunches forward, instead of bending at the waist like a toddler. His eyes can narrow to lizard slits.

He has to look like he can believably be a disgusting monster. Yes, he can also be cute. But he has to first look like a monster. Because that’s what he really is, in the story. If he isn’t, then LILO’s love for him doesn’t look as powerful.

It is easy to love a cat even if it scratches you, because it’s cute. It’s harder to love a life-sized spider that keeps knocking you down and eating your prized possessions and laughing when you get hurt. Stitch is supposed to be closer to the second one, so that Lilo’s love shines brighter.

But also, practically:

She can’t look him in the eye for emotional shots when he’s that short. He’ll always have to awkwardly be standing on a box or a chair or a bed.

How is he going to scoop her up, hero-style, and leap off of an exploding spaceship with her in his arms, when he’s half her size? He could do it: it’ll look stupid, though. So they just don’t have that part in the movie.

She can pick him up. That alone is demeaning and again, the visuals are silly. Not what we’re going for.

5. Lilo’s Personality

In this movie, Lilo doesn’t like weird stuff, and she screams when she first meets Stitch. There’s no problem that this solves. It’s just laziness and a lack of care about the characters.

I would like to remind you that the original Lilo:

Made her own doll that looks like a shrunken head and pretended a bug laid eggs in her ears.

Makes up stories about a fish that controls the weather and actively deep-sea dives to bring it peanut butter sandwiches.

Has a knee-jerk reaction of using practical voodoo spells on friends who wrong her.

Listens exclusively to Elvis Presley.

Fills baby bottles with coffee.

Believes Nani’s manager is a vampire.

Has fishing nets and seashells in her room for decoration.

takes safari pictures of overweight bleached tourists.

meets a social worker and her first impulse is to ask if he’s killed someone.

Nails the door shut when she’s mad at her big sister.

She’s not friends with pound dogs in that original movie; when they first get there she acts like she’s never been in the kennel before, and originally wants a pet lobster.

I know that we all love that little girl they got to play Lilo, but if you were really being objective, you’d acknowledge that she’s a little girl. She’s not Lilo. She’s a cute little girl.

They did not write Lilo into the 2025 movie. They wrote any old little girl.

You should have known, from the moment she first sees Stitch and her reaction is to scream in the trailer, that THAT IS NOT LILO.

Lilo had a very specific set of characterizations. She was a character with a personality that exploded out of the screen. Every other character in the movie meets Stitch and reacts with disgust.

But not. LILO. She’s the only one to react to him like THIS:

She is literally not like anyone else. She’s doesn’t care that he’s ugly. Or weird. Or blue. Or even bat an eye when he can talk with all those shark teeth.

From Moment One, Lilo chooses Stitch. She chooses to love him. Regardless of what he can do for her. Regardless of how many times he pushes her over or rips up her house or makes her relationship with Nani harder. That is the number one thing about Lilo.

She is desperate for people to stay, but she chooses to love Stitch even though he’s a monster. And she tries to make him better. And her love succeeds in transforming him when nothing else could.

Lilo’s personality traits all mean something in the story. (I.e. she likes Elvis because she’s clinging to the past, she snaps pictures of tourists like they’re safari animals because they’re inherently people who LEAVE and she has issues with LEAVING, etc.) But the thing I think that was so obvious that the moviemakers missed for 2025 is she has to be weird. If she’s not weird, there’s no reason for her not to have friends. And if she has friends, what does she need Stitch for?

But also, Lilo’s personality in the new movie is just boring. Cute. But boring. Cute’s not that great of an accomplishment; any 7 year-old is cute.

6. Nani

I don’t think you guys need to know this. It’s not just that Nani leaves. It’s that “take care of yourself” is the exact opposite of the selfless message of the movie.

In the beginning, Lilo literally argues with Nani after being told she’s “such a pain,” and goes, “why don’t you SELL ME and buy a RABBIT INSTEAD?”

And then breaks down and cries at the thought of Nani wishing she had a rabbit instead of Lilo, later.

Because Lilo is afraid of people leaving. But Nani won’t leave her. Nani loses her job, her own life, because of Lilo. But she’s desperate to keep Lilo anyway, because she loves her. Don’t you understand? The message of the movie was about self-sacrificial love. A love that doesn't care what I get out of the relationship.

Nani starts it. But you know what, David loves her like that, too. And then Lilo transfers it to Stitch, who shows it off to Jumba. It’s a chain reaction, but Nani is spearheading it.

You realize that when their parents died, Nani already would’ve been in high school? With a whole life of her own? Her own friends, her own potential boyfriend, a job she went to, surf competitions (the trophies are in her room.) Lilo would’ve been well aware that that was the status-quo: Nani has her own life. And even a seven year-old can see that that life is being put on hold, but maybe the big sister wants to go back to it, at every turn.

The fact that Nani never does that, never expresses a desire for that, only ever expresses a desire to keep Lilo with her, is huge. It’s the core of the movie.

I don’t think that needs any more explaining.

We could talk more. Like about how Lilo needs to see that Stitch is an alien, because that’s the ultimate test: he’s one of the monsters who destroyed her house, he’s been lying to her and using her as a human shield, he’s a criminal—but she still winds up giving everything up to protect him.

Anyway. My neck hurts and I don’t want to type anymore. But we could talk about the music, the social worker, the grand councilwoman—it just doesn’t matter.

Ya’ll had more than enough details in the trailer to be able to not go see this movie because it was obviously going to ruin everything. But instead you chose to make this twisted corpse “the highest-grossing movie of any Memorial Day.” You bought tickets because they ruined a perfect movie and slapped together an uglier package for you.

Whatever. It was my favorite movie today, it’ll be your Treasure Planet or Tangled tomorrow. Keep riiiight on giving them your money, and keep letting influencers regurgitate the same four obvious facts to you over and over, because they paid Disney to make a talking-point for their content benefit. Whatever.

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny lives in a horror movie-DC x DP prompt

Based on my favorite book series "tales from the gas station"

It's not every day that a mission requires the league to travel to middle America in a bid to obtain a highly cursed artifact but it certainly is today.

Locating the Seal of Silent Ashes was a task usually given to Justice League Dark but Constantine was currently busy. So that meant it was left to the poster boys to get this done. They dressed in civilian attire to investigate the last location of the seal starting with the first building on the edge of town. A small dusty gas station near the woods.

The inside had an awful smell, like death and cleaning fluid. The lights gave off a greenish-blue tint. Rats could be seen out of the corner of your eyes. Most of the chips were offbrand and crappy.

Behind the counter was the teenage boy chewing gum. He looked up at the group before going back to reading his book. He had clearly seen better days but didn't show signs of caring about the state of his hair or bags under his eyes. He drank his coffee.

The air felt off.

"Hey kiddo, do you mind giving us directions?" Clark started.

The kid narrowed his eyes as he popped his gum.

"You're not from here. That or you're from that cult in the woods. Listen I'm not joining. Seriously, cosmic nihilism and fatalism sounds doomed. Hey wait-" the teen checked his notes " No, the cult killed themselves in that mass suicide 2 weeks ago. I forgot, sorry."

The teen didn't say anything else as he went back to his book.

The horrified look of the adults shared was almost hilarious. At least to the teen if he looked up.

"Oh, and stay out of the woods. I don't want the police to come back and ask about who saw you last. Seriously if whatever is in there tears you apart I won't feel bad. I put those signs out forever ago and if I get one more girl covered in blood running in here screaming about her dead friends I'll get a headache." The teen shrugged turning the page.

"What do you mean?! Why would-?! Who's killing people?!" Barry asked frantically as Bruce serched for more reports of missing people in the area.

"I don't know. Why would I know? If you want to go in the cursed forest go ahead. I mean that's how they all die. It isn't my job to stop you. My job is to sit here and watch this store." The teen huffed in annoyance.

Before anymore questions were asked the signal of the radio was disrupted and a demonic howl screeched through the radio.

"God damnit. That cunt is back. Stay here." The teen growled as he grabbed his bat from under the counter and walked out the back door. "String bean! Get off the fucking roof you bastard! You know that radio is all I have here!"

A chattering laugh like a death rattle was heard and the sound of 2 sets of feet was heard on the roof then they lept down.

"Come here so I can beat you to death!" The teen ran around the building towards the front of the gas station chasing-what the fuck is that!

It was like a human that was twisted to crabwalk on all fours backwards. Its face was contorted into a black stretched-out smile with no teeth. It had no eyes just black sockets. All its limbs were stretched out to an extra meter in length. It was a skinwalker of some kind with chalk-white skin. It was skittering away from the teen who was swinging his bat at its head.

"Stop running! I told you before what would happen if I found you fucking with me again!" The boy meant it as he finally landed a hit and began wacking it over and over it.

The skin walker screeched and tried to run for its life but couldn't.

After reducing the monster into a black puddle the black-stained teen came back inside to sit back down not paying anymore to the monster blood he was covered in.

"Sorry about that. Most of the freaks around here have learned to stay away from this place. That one is new and he doesn't listen. You'd think they'd learn but Sting Bean thinks he can torment me. Petty bastard." The teen sighed "anyways are going to buy anything or are you going to waste what oxygen we get in here with this shitty ventilation.

Diana couldn't help but admire the boldness of the boy. He had no hesitation or fear against the beasts of this area even if was crude.

"Does Constantine have a cousin or something? Just a more angry one" Barry whispered to Hal.

[strangerexee]

(2) ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ɢɪᴀɴᴛꜱ | ᴇʟɪᴊᴀʜ "ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ" ᴍᴏᴏʀᴇ

𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽!𝙶𝙰𝙽𝙶!𝙰𝚄

pairings: Elijah "smoke" Moore x black!fem!reader

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 | 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 | 𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐/𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜 | 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎/𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 | 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚜 | 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 (𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜), 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 | 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝-𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚢 | 𝚃𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 | 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

It had been a couple weeks.

Two and a half, to be exact.

Not like you were counting.

Okay. You were.

He said he’d call.

He didn’t.

Didn’t hit your line. Didn’t pop up. Didn’t say not one damn word.

Which was fine. Totally fine. You weren’t pressed.

Not really.

You had a life. A job. Rent. A soft little routine. Did your Target runs. Lit your candles. Even hooked your iPad up to the TV like a suburban housewife and watched your little shows.

But still.

Every time your phone buzzed? Your eyes flicked to the screen too fast.

You tried not to, but your body did it anyway.

It was dumb. You knew that.

A man like that don’t linger. Don’t play house. Don’t kiss you soft and sit on your couch like he belonged there unless he’s got a reason. And if you weren’t the reason — well. You wasn’t gonna beg for it.

So you did what hot, sad bitches do when they need a reset.

You got dressed.

And hit the club.

Your friends were already inside when you walked up. Music spilling out the door. Bass so heavy it shook the sidewalk.

You were cute, too. Thighs out. Gloss poppin’. That short dress that hugged you like a problem.

One of your girls whistled when she saw you.

“Ouuu, not you comin’ out like you got revenge on your mind — who got you feelin’ sexy like that, girl?” “Nobody,” you lied. “I just needed some air.” “Uh huh.”

Whatever.

You grabbed a drink and danced anyway.

Tried to lose yourself in the crowd, in the bass, in the strobe lights and the slippery neon fog.

Tried not to think about him.

But God ain’t like you. He don’t let you lie for long.

Because when you turned around —

There he was.

Smoke.

Not in a hoodie this time.

Nope.

Tonight, he was in a black tee that hugged his arms and hung loose off his belt, jeans low on his hips like a sin, gold chain catching every light in the room.

He looked so good, you damn near moaned on sight.

Lord.

It's been too weeks too long and you forgot how tall he was. How that walk looked — slow, heavy, like he was carrying something dangerous in his back pocket.

His eyes found you like they’d been searching all night.

And when they landed?

Whew.

That stare had you wanting to throw your phone across the damn club.

You didn’t move.

Didn’t smile.

Didn’t give him shit.

You just kept sipping your drink, real slow, like your knees weren’t already warm and turned away, as if that would make everything better.

He came up behind you, didn’t say nothing. Just leaned in a little — voice deep, low, close enough to brush your ear.

“I was gon’ call.”

You turned your head a little, gave him a look.

“Uh huh.” “I had to handle some shit.” “Of course you did.”

His eyes dragged down your body like he was trying to catch up for lost time.

“Missed me?”

You scoffed, rolled your eyes.

“You missed me,” he said, already sure.

You started to say something slick, but he was already reaching — hand sliding around your waist like it was made to be there.

“You look good, baby,” he said. And lord…the way he said baby.

Like a prayer. Like a promise. Like a problem you couldn’t wait to get tangled up in again.

“You ain’t supposed to be out here alone,” he muttered against your ear, voice wrapped in molasses. “I’m not alone.” “You ain’t with me.” “You not my man.” “Yet.”

Girl.

You had to finish your drink just to keep from screaming.

Your friends were watching.

One of them caught your eye and made the oooh he fineee face. You ignored her. Barely.

“Why you here?” you asked. “Don't you got corners to haunt or empires to run?”

“Empire still standing. I wanted to see you.”

“And you just knew I’d be here?”

He smirked.

“Like I said. People talk. Eyes on you.” “That’s not creepy at all.” “I ain’t tryin’ to be cute. I’m tryin’ to keep you safe.”

Safe.

You hated that the word made something in your chest flutter.

“You don’t even know me,” you said. He leaned down just a little, nose brushing your cheek.

“I know enough.”

He didn’t try to dance. Didn’t drag you off. Just stood there. Close. Warm.

Watching you.

Protecting you...?

Claiming you without saying the words.

And you let him.

Because what else were you gonna do?

Act like your thighs weren’t shaking? Pretend that kiss from two weeks ago didn’t haunt your dreams? Lie and say you didn’t want his hands on your skin?

You finally turned to face him.

Head tilted. Arms folded. Slick as always.

“You done handling whatever that shit was?”

His smile was slow this time. Crooked.

“Not even close,” he said. “But I’ll make time for you.”

You were maybe halfway through your sixth drink when the tipsy started to hit.

Not the sloppy kind.

The cute kind. The I’m smiling a little too hard, my hips feel loose, and I want to make bad decisions with a good-smelling man kind.

And lordddd—he was right there.

Still standing behind you, still close. One big hand ghosting the curve of your waist like he knew you were starting to melt.

“I shouldn’t let you drink like that,” he murmured, deep and gravelly, against the shell of your ear.

“Why?”

“‘Cause then you gon’ start actin’ up.” You leaned back a little, smiling like a brat. “And what if I wanna act up?”

He exhaled — low and slow, like you were getting to him.

You were.

You felt it.

His hand slid lower, not too low, but just enough to let you know he wasn’t playing fair.

“You tryin’ to get in trouble?” “Already in it,” you muttered.

And that was it.

That was all it took.

Next thing you knew, you were in the back of a sleek black car, windows tinted too dark to be legal, the city sliding past like it was watching you make a mistake.

You weren’t even nervous.

You should’ve been.

But you weren’t.

“Where we going?” you asked, a little breathy, a little buzzed, legs crossed and hand pressed to your thigh like you needed to keep your heart from leaping out.

“My place,” he said. “Is it nice?”

He didn’t answer. Just looked at you out the corner of his eye, smirk curling his lip like ‘you’ll see.’

And baby. You saw.

His house?

Was not a regular ass house.

This was not no “man cave, LED lights, half-eaten wings on the counter” type of bachelor spot. No.

This was grown. This was dangerous man with money and secrets levels of fine.

Soft lights. Dark wood. Cold stone countertops. Art on the walls that looked like it cost more than your whole rent for a good couple months. A massive floor-to-ceiling window facing the city skyline.

And it was quiet.

No TVs blaring. No music. Just the low hum of the fridge and the sound of your heels hitting the floor as you walked in like you hadn’t just made the worst best decision of your week.

“Smoke,” you breathed, doing a slow turn. “What the hell do you do?”

He took your jacket, didn’t answer. Just hung it on a hook and walked past you like he owned everything in the world.

“You want some water?” “Nah, I want you.”

You hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

But you were tipsy. And a little freaky. And he looked so good, standing there all quiet and fine with his jaw clenched and his eyes low like he could already smell what you wanted.

You took a few steps toward him.

And he didn’t move.

Just let you come close, slow, like you were testing something.

Your hands slid up his chest — slow — and lord that man was solid.

He looked down at you like you were a riddle he wanted to solve with his mouth.

You tilted your head, smiled. “Still tryna keep me safe?” He dipped his head a little, whispering — “I’m tryna keep you mine.”

Whewwwww.

He kissed you before you could even react.

Hard.

Like he’d been starving. Like he was mad you were out there in the world and not already pressed against him like this.

And you… Baby. You melted.

Gripped his shirt. Lifted on your toes. Moaned into his mouth like a little problem.

He picked you up so fast your brain lagged a second. Next thing you knew, your legs were around his waist, your back was on some soft-ass couch, and his mouth was on your neck like he was trying to figure out where to bite first.

“Goddamn,” you gasped, grabbing at him. “Why you this fine?” He just chuckled low, a little mean.

“You still drunk?” You nodded. “A little.” “You always act like this when you drink?” “…maybe.”

He pulled back, eyes dark and glinting.

“You gon’ let me find out?”

Let?

LET??

Sir.

You were already undone.

Already laying there squirming with your dress riding up and your pulse thumping like a bassline.

So you sat up. Slid your hands under his shirt. Let your mouth trail down his throat just enough to make him grunt.

“Why don’t you show me what you been handling these last two weeks?”

That was all it took.

He picked you up again like you weighed nothing, carried you through that fancy ass house like a fever dream, and the next thing you knew —

You were in his bedroom.

And girl.

It was worse.

Soft gray sheets. Pillars of shadow and light. More floor-to-ceiling windows with the moon shining right in.

Like something out of a movie.

Or a memory you’d been waiting to fall into.

He laid you down so gentle it made your heart ache. Palmed your thigh. Watched your face. Like he needed permission. Like he needed you to say yes even though your body already had.

You pulled him down by the chain around his neck. “You gone keep playing with me or what?”

And then — he stopped.

Just for a second.

Looked at you.

Really looked.

And he said—

“You sure?”

And girl. That’s when you knew.

You were cooked.

Because even though his voice was deep and mean and velvet-rich, there was care in it.

And that made you want him more than anything.

So you pulled him in and whispered, “Don’t make me ask twice.”

And he didn’t.

One second you were teasing him by that chain, and the next — you were on your stomach, hips lifted, cheek pressed to the plush of that expensive-ass comforter, looking back with your brows furrowed.

He’d pulled your dress up and your panties down like they offended him.

Didn’t even rush. Didn’t talk much. Just stood there behind you for a second, one big hand gripping the meat of your thigh like he was lining up a shot he was not gonna miss.

And then —

Lord.

That first stroke?

Deep. Slow. Painfully good.

You gasped into the sheets, fingers grabbing for anything, back arching nasty off instinct.

“Smoke —”

He exhaled real low. Did it again. Slid back in like he was tryna carve himself into your soul.

And you felt all of him.

Thick. Heavy. Dragging against every soft spot you had with a pace that was filthy in its control.

He fucked you like he had all night. Like he didn’t need to chase it. Like he was making you lose your mind first.

And babyyy — you were.

You were gasping into the sheets, body rocking forward with every stroke, thighs trembling, toes curling hard in the blanket.

“Shitttt — smoke—” He groaned behind you. “You takin’ it so good.”

That voice???

That deep, almost lazy voice like he was in a trance from the way you squeezed around him every time he slid back in??

It had you GONE.

You tried to push back. Tried to meet him stroke for stroke. But he caught your hips—held them down with both hands like 'nah, let me work.'

And he did.

Deep, slow strokes that ached. That made you whimper and slap the mattress with a shaking hand like—'goddamn.'

You were losing it.

Legs starting to give out. Back arched up so sweet your lower spine was humming. Face buried in the blanket, eyes rolling every time he bottomed out with a thick, quiet grunt.

“Fuck, baby, you feel — mm — you feel too good,” he muttered, a little strained now. Like your shit was really getting to him.

And it was.

You felt him twitch. Felt his grip tighten. Felt his rhythm falter just a little as he locked his hips deeper and held it.

Just pressed into your ass, thick and full and pulsing, like he wanted to live there.

But he didn’t come.

That man just pulled out slow, grunted under his breath — “mm-mm. Not yet.” And flipped you over.

Round two came fast.

Didn’t even give you time to breathe.

Your legs were still shaking. Your pussy still clenching at air like it missed him.

But he was back.

Kissing you messy now. Dragging the tip across your folds just to tease before sinking back in.

Faster.

Not too fast. But more urgent. More filthy. More 'I should’ve had you weeks ago and I’m making up for it now.'

You moaned loud, head thrown back, nails dragging down his back like — 'yes please thank you more.'

He buried his face in your neck, groaning now. Little, breathless sounds against your skin. Hands planted firm on either side of your head, his body caging you in.

He fucked you like he wanted to own every damn part of you.

Your moans. Your breath. Your arch. Your fucking soul.

And when he hit that spot?

When that thick dick curved just right and dragged over it a few times like he was taking notes??

You folded.

Tried to close your legs. Tried to twist away.

He didn’t let you.

Just grabbed your thighs and pushed deeper. Mouth at your ear now — “Where you goin’, huh?” “You was talkin’ all that shit — now you running?” “Take it. Take all this dick.”

You screamed.

Not loud. Not theatrical. Just real.

A raw, gutted moan from deep in your chest that came right with that sharp, perfect burst of pleasure that had you seeing stars.

Your orgasm hit hard.

Made your whole body clench around him like a fist. Back arched, hands clutching the sheets like you were scared you might float away.

And still — he didn’t come.

He kept going. Harder. Meaner. Like he was chasing it now, low growls spilling from his chest like thunder.

He buried his face in your neck again. Grunted once.

And finally — finally — he twitched inside you, hips stuttering as he filled you up with a hot, heavy pulse that made you moan again.

Just one long, breathless “fuckkkk.”

The room was quiet after that.

Except your breathing. And his.

Both of you laying there, sticky and tangled up in the mess y’all made, heartbeats racing like you just ran through the apocalypse hand-in-hand.

He kissed your shoulder. Real soft. Almost shy.

You laughed a little — voice hoarse. “You gon ghost me again?”

He looked up from your neck.

And that man smirked.

“After this?” he said, slow, cocky, voice low as hell. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

You ain't even realize he pulled out until the bed creaked, real soft-like, and the heat of his body left you.

You blinked. Felt all loose and jelly-limbed, like your bones had melted under that big ass man. Face still buried in his pillow. You were still tryna process what the hell just happened.

Your legs twitched. Still trembling. Your whole pussy was throbbing, empty and wet and so overstimmed you could barely think.

And then —

You felt him.

That soft wipe of a warm towel between your thighs. A gentle little 'shh' when you flinched. Big hands bracing your thighs open like he was apologizing for fucking you so deep.

“Still sore?” he asked, real low. Like he was asking if you needed a minute, or a whole second round.

You hummed something that didn’t sound like English.

“Damn,” he chuckled under his breath. And you could hear the smug in it. But also — something softer.

The towel moved slow. Careful. Wiping you clean like you were something delicate. Like he gave a fuck if he hurt you.

And it hit you.

You never had this before.

Never had a man fuck you dumb and still hold you like he ain’t wanna let go. Never had someone take their time cleaning you up when the high wore off. Never had anybody kiss on your shoulder like you meant something right after they blew your back out.

It felt...nice. Too nice.

You sniffed. Stretched out lazy and boneless when he tossed the towel to the floor and leaned back over you.

“Don’t move,” he said, low. “You good?”

You nodded, still kinda floatin’. “Yeah…m’good…”

He kissed the top of your spine. Then your shoulder. Then your cheek.

One long kiss right between your brows.

You blinked up at him — soft, dazed. He looked…different now.

Still fine as hell. Still tatted and thick and built like a damn linebacker. But — softer.

His eyes weren’t hard like when you first met. His touch wasn’t cold. He looked at you like he saw something in you he wasn’t expecting.

Then he stood up — Still naked, dick still heavy and swinging, and lorddd you were tempted to climb back on that man —

But he just ran a hand over his face, muttered, “Be right back,” and went to grab something.

Came back in a pair of gray sweatshorts — that damn print was PRINTING — and tossed you the same kind but shorts...

“I ain’t got nothing cute, but you can wear these,” he said, dropping a folded-up black tee on the bed next to you. “I’ll get you some socks too if you want.”

And — like — You didn’t know whether to scream or suck his dick.

Cuz why the fuck did that feel so intimate? Why he look so good in the warm light? Why he still got lip gloss on his neck from earlier??

You put on the shorts. They were big, of course. Sat low on your hips. The shirt too. Soft and clean and smelled like laundry and cologne.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Hair a mess. Lips swollen. Whole thighs out. And his shirt hangin’ off your shoulder like a confession.

Yeah. You looked fucked. And claimed.

You padded downstairs barefoot, the floor warm under your toes. His place was quiet. Clean. Minimalist but cozy.

Not the kind of space you expected from a man like him.

And he was already in the kitchen.

You leaned on the doorway, watching. Quiet. Just soaking it in.

He moved like he knew what he was doing—pulling shit from the fridge, turning the stove on, opening cabinets like he’d done this before.

“Not breakfast?” you teased, voice still a little hoarse.

He turned, a lazy smirk on his face. “Nah. You gon’ need real food after that.”

WHYYY he say it like thattttt. You bit your lip. Felt another throb.

He pulled out a container of pasta, some veggies, chopped chicken—like he was ready. He even poured you a glass of water. Sat it next to the barstool and gave you that look.

“Drink this before I bend you over that counter.”

Your legs damn near gave out again. “Yessir.”

He laughed. Walked up behind you while the pan heated. Kissed your temple. Then your jaw.

Then your neck, where he knew he left a mark.

You leaned back into him with a soft little sigh, the weight of his body behind yours like a safehouse.

He liked kissing, you could tell. The kind that didn’t rush. That meant something. Even if y’all hadn’t put a name to this thing yet.

You didn’t know his real name. Didn’t even know what he did for work. Didn’t know what any of this meant.

But right now, you were standing in a warm kitchen, wrapped in his shirt, belly rumbling, lips tingling, neck still sore from the way he kissed you while he stroked through you like he studied your body.

And he was cooking for you. Not because he had to. But because he wanted to.

This man — this quiet, deep-voiced demon of a man — was smiling a little while he stirred sauce in the pan like you didn’t just have your soul knocked into another timeline.

“Damn,” you mumbled. “What?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

You looked him up and down. The shorts. The arms. The softness. The fact that he touched you like you were fragile after doing unspeakable things to your guts.

You sighed. “Nothing. You just…fine as fuck. That’s all.” you breathed out.

He chuckled. Walked over. Took your chin in his hand and kissed you slow, deep, with a hum that had your toes curling again.

Then he said — “Wait ‘til you taste how I cook.” Smirked. Turned back to the stove.

You sat down with your knees pressed together, whole body humming, thighs clenched.

You ain’t expect to get emotional behind some damn food, but here you were.

Sittin’ in this man’s dimly lit kitchen, in his oversized shirt, drinkin’ cold water while your insides still shivered from how he handled you in the bedroom — And the smell hittin’ your nose like somebody’s Southern auntie been hoverin’ over that stove for hours.

Garlic. Butter. Onion. A lil heat in the back of your throat. He threw something in that pan that was doing spiritual things to your spirit. Like it was hugging the parts of you that ain’t been held in a while.

You blinked. Fidgeted. Chewed on your thumbnail like you ain’t want your lip to quiver.

“You good?” he asked, lookin’ at you sideways while he stirred up some pasta in a cast iron skillet.

You nodded. Too quick. Voice a lil too light.

“Mhm…I’m fine…”

Lie. You was not fine.

You was bout two seconds away from cryin’ over sautéed chicken and perfectly seasoned noodles. What the fuck.

“I put a lil cayenne in there,” he said casually. “Not too much though. Just a kick.”

You swallowed hard.

“Yeah, okay, Chef Boyar-dick,” you whispered under your breath.

He heard you. Grinned. Didn’t say nothin’ — just looked at you with that smug ass I know what I did to you smirk.

Then he plated your food.

Real neat. Pasta twisted all pretty. Chicken stacked just right. Grated cheese on top. Sprinkled parsley like it was chopped with intention. He even wiped the side of the plate off with a damn paper towel like he was competing on MasterChef.

OH YOU WANTED TO SOB.

He slid it over to you with a fork and another glass of water. Didn’t even fix his own plate first.

“Eat, baby.”

Lorddd.

Your stomach fluttered. Your coochie fluttered. Your heart fluttered.

You scooped up a bite, let the noodles wrap around the fork, and took it to your mouth.

BAYBEEE.

Flavor exploded like a damn prayer on your tongue. Savory. Warm. Just the right amount of heat. Like the food was made by hands that knew what the fuck pain felt like.

You stared at the plate. Stared at the man.

He watched you. Quiet. Patient. Like he wanted to see your reaction.

You chewed slow, then swallowed. Put your fork down.

And then…

“Why you doin’ this?” you whispered. Voice low.

Barely above the hum of the stove fan.

His brow furrowed. “Huh?”

You licked your lips. Blinkin’ fast. Eyes glossed over.

“Why you bein’ all…sweet like this? Like — you dicked me down, cleaned me up, made me a plate — now you feedin’ me like I’m some kinda…favorite.”

He didn’t answer right away. Didn’t try to joke it off.

He walked back over, real slow. Took your chin in his hand again — soft. Held your eyes in his.

“Because I wanted to.”

Simple. Honest. Soft.

You stared at him.

“You makin’ it real hard not to fall for you tonight,” you whispered.

His thumb brushed your cheek. Then your lip. His eyes dropped to your mouth like he was ready to kiss you all over again.

He didn’t say nothin’. Just leaned in, real gentle, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Then your nose. Then your lips.

And when he pulled back, he smirked.

“Who said not to?”

SCREEEEEEEEEAMMMMMMMM.

taglist - @sertonins - @crimsonxm00n - @klssngss - @juicypinksblog @mingisg00dgirl - @stilestotherescue - @imperfectlyperfect78 @hoouno06 - @kirayuki22 - @christinabae - (lemme know if I forgot any of you)

[pedroscowgirl]

Guilty as sin

Professor! Joel × fem college student!reader (series)

MASTERLIST /Part 2

Warnings: smut so minors dni!

flirting, teasing, age gap (reader is her 20s and joel in his late 40s), fingering, squirting, infidelity (joel is married) , no use of y/n, joel being an asshole towards the end, forbidden romance

Lmk if I forgot something!

wc: 3.2k

A/n: okay so i actually started writing this over a year ago and just finished it today cuz i finally had some inspiration. So if you notice a difference in the writing, don't mind it pls

Joel Miller is the epitome of rugged charm, the kind of man who effortlessly commands a room with his presence. To you, he's the sexiest man alive, an intoxicating blend of intellect and masculinity. Attending his classes became more than just an academic obligation, it was a guilty pleasure, an excuse to indulge in the sight of him. Joel was undeniably alluring,his maturity and confidence set him apart from your other professors. Yet, a glint of reality kept you grounded. The shiny glimmer of a wedding ring on his strong, veiny hand, was a constant reminder of boundaries you couldn't cross.

Your daydreams were interrupted when your friend pulled you back to reality. "Hey, it's break time. Stop ogling that old man and let's go to the bathroom," she teased with a knowing laugh. "He's not that old," you protested, feeling a flush of embarrassment. She arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Please, he could be your father." You sighed, reluctantly tearing yourself away from thoughts of him.

As you walked toward the bathroom, fate had you crossing paths with Joel. His presence was magnetic, drawing your eyes to him. You couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to have those capable, veiny hands on you, exploring the curves he seemed to discreetly notice. Yet, despite the heat in his gaze, he seemed the kind of man who wouldn't stray, loyal to a fault, and unlikely to be interested in someone so much younger.

Still, you couldn't ignore the way his eyes lingered on you as you passed, nor the surge of confidence it gave you. You knew you looked good in those jeans, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered if he was thinking about you as much as you were about him.

---------‐-----------------------------------------------------

A week went by, and u had an appointment with another professor just before your class with joel miller. You had a busy day ahead because your friends wanted to go out after class. And since u didn't have time for changing clothes, you just wore your going outfit the whole day. You wore black thigh high boots with a jeans miniskirt and a sexy black cutout top. And on top of that you wore your long leather jacket to cover you up.

Your appointment with your professor went well and when u walked out, u decided to take the elevator since u were on the 5th floor and were wearing heels. You pushed the button on the elevator and to your suprise, you saw professor miller standing in it.

Your heart started to race like crazy. You greeted him with a smile and got into the elevator. "Good afternoon" he said and u were getting so hot. "Good afternoon, professor Miller." You answered and he smiled "you don't need to call me professor miller. Just call me joel." You laughed and said "that's a little strange but if u insist."

The elevator was now on the 3rd floor and you felt his gaze on you. Your jacket was open cuz you were in a hurry and u awkwardly smiled and said "I'm going somewhere after your class so I'm a little overdressed right now. I swear I'm not being inappropriate on purpose." He laughed and was a little taken by suprise by your random statement. "That's fine. I assume you're a grown woman since you're in college and there are no dress codes here. So no need to worry about it. And you look great." You blushed and got even hotter because you didn't think he would say that.

And suddenly the elevator stopped out of nowhere. You grabbed his arm when you almost fell and quickly took it back and apologised when u stood still again. "Don't be sorry. I guess we're stuck here now. But don't worry I'll call someone." The way he was so calm and easy going turned you on so much. You wished you could just take him right here and now. Cuz you needed him so badly.

"Are you a student of mine?" He asked after he was done calling for help. He knew you were a student of his but he didn't wanna sound like a creep and make you uncomfortable. He also just didn't want to stand in silence the whole time. "Oh uh yes I am" you smiled and he smiled aswell. "Do you like the course?" He asked. "Yes it's actually one of my favourites. I love going to your class. You explain everything so well." He smirked a little and said "I bet you say this to all your professors." And winked at you. The wetness in your pants grew bigger and your heart raced faster.

"Oh what's your name? It's so rude of me not to ask." He said and you laughed and said your name. "That's a beautiful name." "I bet you say that to all your students." You smiled. "I actually thought of naming my daughter that way" he spoke and now it's confirmed. He really is a dilf. Which made it so much more intimidating for you. A married man is one thing, but a married man with kids? Oh you had no chance. The dissapointment was spread over your face and joel furrowed his brows. "Are you okay?" You snapped out of your thoughts and smiled at him. "Oh yes I'm fine sorry. "What's her name" you asked politely. "Her same is Sarah." He smiled and you smiled aswell. "That's a cute name."

A silence filled the room and suddenly the elevator doors went open. "Oh finally" He said and you sighed. You're happy to not be stuck anymore but at the same time, you were dissapointed that your little moment with your professor ended. The elevator stopped halfway so you had to climb up to the floor to get out of there. The man on the other side told you to grab his hand but you struggled. You looked at joel with an akward smile and he said "I'll help you, don't worry."

You gasped when you felt his hands on your thighs. It sent a spark to your core and blood rushed to your cheeks. He was so strong which made him even hotter which you didn't even know was possible.

You both got out of the elevator and went to the class. He opened the door for you and you looked for your friend. When you finally saw her, you smiled. But her eyes were wide and she was staring at your outfit. You sat next to her and she asked where you were. "Oh I was stuck in the elevator with Mr Miller." You casually said and she giggled. "You were stuck? In the elevator? With your crush?" She said and you nodded and blushed again.

"Sorry I was late. I was stuck in the elavator" joel said into his mic and smiled at you. You couldn't concentrate for the rest of the lecture. You kept thinking about his thick fingers grabbing your thighs." It was the first time that you were not paying attention in his class. Well at least not on the subject.

-------------------------------------

Weeks had passed, and you found yourself lingering after class more often than necessary. At first, it was subtle,an extra question here, a slight delay in gathering your things there. But soon, it became deliberate. The way you stole glances at him from across the room, the way your fingers grazed his desk when you spoke to him, the way you shifted in your seat when he was lecturing.

And you noticed something else, too. He was looking.

He was careful,but his eyes betrayed him. They flickered down your legs when you crossed them, lingered a fraction too long when your blouse dipped just slightly. It made something burn in your lower stomach, knowing that your presence affected him.

So you got bolder. Wearing miniskirts, fitted tops, lingering touches. Each time, his restraint was evident, his jaw tight, his voice even. But then you noticed the big bulge in his pants and it made your mouth water.

And it was that thought that propelled you to his office that afternoon. Your heart pounded in your chest, though you wouldn’t dare let it show. You knocked lightly, already knowing he was inside.

“Come in,” his voice rumbled through the door.

You stepped in, the door shutting behind you with a soft click. He looked up from his desk, and for a brief moment, he seemed almost caught off guard. His gaze swept over you, your short skirt, the backless top revealing smooth skin, the lack of straps on your shoulders and most of all, your hardend nipples. You could've used some nipple covers to wear but gathered i'd be more fun this way.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Uh—hey,” he said, clearing his throat. “Sit down, please.”

You did as he asked, slowly crossing one leg over the other as you settled into the chair. His eyes darted downward before he forced them back up, and you bit back a smirk.

“I just had a few things I wanted to go over,” you started, keeping your tone light, innocent. As if you didn’t notice the way his fingers twitched on the desk, the way his shoulders tensed.

“Yeah?” he leaned back, but the movement felt more like a defense mechanism than anything else.

You nodded, tilting your head slightly. “Just some things about the last assignment.”

He exhaled sharply, nodding as he grabbed a pen—something to do with his hands, something to focus on that wasn’t you. “Alright. What’s confusing you?”

You leaned forward slightly, closing the space between you. “Well, I was thinking…”

And as you spoke, you could feel the tension tighten, coil, waiting for something—anything—to snap.

When the discussion about school finally came to an end, you stood from your seat, smoothing your skirt as you reached for the door handle. Joel stood as well, guiding you toward the exit, his presence towering behind you. Just as your fingers curled around the handle, his voice stopped you.

“Wait.”

The word was sharp, almost involuntary, and you turned your head slightly, catching the conflicted expression on his face. His jaw clenched, eyes dark, as if waging an internal war with himself. He cursed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck before finally exhaling a breath that seemed to carry every ounce of restraint he had left.

“I can’t—” he started, then shook his head. “I shouldn’t—”

But then he looked at you again, really looked at you, and something in him snapped.

Before you could respond, he reached for you, one hand wrapping around your waist as the other cradled your jaw. And then his lips were on yours—hot, urgent, desperate. The kiss stole the breath from your lungs, the heat of it searing into your skin as you melted into him.

You barely had a moment to react before he lifted you, guiding you onto his desk with ease. His hands splayed over your thighs, fingers pressing into your skin as he slotted himself between your legs, deepening the kiss with a hunger that had clearly been building for far too long.

The papers on his desk crumpled beneath you, forgotten, as his hands roamed and explored every inch of you.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?”

Joel’s voice was low, thick with restraint as he hovered over you, his rough hands brushing along the hem of your skirt. His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable, something dangerous. You didn’t hesitate, didn’t second-guess it—you just nodded.

“Yes, Professor.”

That title alone made his breath hitch. His fingers curled around the fabric of your skirt, slowly pushing it up until he could see the lacy pink panties you’d worn just for him. A little bow sat at the waistband, an innocent contrast to the filthy thoughts running through his mind.

His tongue swiped over his bottom lip as he let out a quiet chuckle. “Well, ain’t that just the cutest thing.”

Heat bloomed in your cheeks, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you met his gaze with a slow, teasing smile. He dragged his calloused fingers up your inner thighs, watching your body react under his touch, watching the way your breath hitched as he finally pulled the thin fabric down your legs.

He licked his fingers and you stopped him. His brows furrowed as he looked up at you, confused.

“There’s no need for that, Professor,” you said, voice sultry and dripping with need. “I’ve been wet since the day I met you.”

Joel let out a low groan, shaking his head as he chuckled. “Fuck, darlin’, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

His fingers lowered, trailing through your slick heat, feeling just how ready you were for him. The moment he pushed a finger inside, your body clenched around him, making him curse under his breath.

“Yeah, you’re right, sweetheart. You are very wet for me.” His voice was deep, wrecked with desire. “Such a naughty girl.”

A desperate whimper left your lips, your back arching as he curled his thick finger inside you. “Hmm, Professor… feels so good…”

Joel groaned, his free hand gripping your thigh to keep you still. “Gosh, I love when you call me that.”

He pushed another finger in—this time, the one with his ring on it. The cool metal pressed against your warm, sensitive clit, making you shudder from the contrast in temperature. The thought of him touching you like this, fingers deep inside you while that simple wedding band glinted under the dim light, sent a rush of pleasure through you.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be spread out for your hot, married professor, letting him fuck you with his fingers on his desk, but God, it felt too damn good.

And the way he was looking at you—like he was absolutely wrecked, like he couldn’t get enough—made it impossible to stop.

His fingers moved faster, curling inside you, dragging against that sweet spot with perfect precision. The wet sounds filled the office, obscene and sinful, but neither of you cared. If anything, it made him work you even harder, his wrist flexing, his palm pressing against your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Your stomach twisted, pleasure winding tighter and tighter, ready to snap. You could barely breathe, barely form a coherent thought, just a trembling mess beneath his skilled hands.

“P-p-professor, I-I’m gonna—”

Your body seized up as the orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your nails dug into his arm, desperate to ground yourself as your release gushed out, soaking his hand, his wrist, even splattering onto his shirt. Your vision blurred as you cried out, thighs shaking violently, every nerve in your body set ablaze.

Joel groaned, voice low and wrecked, watching with fascination as you came completely undone. “Holy shit.”

His fingers didn’t stop, not even as your body convulsed and twitched from overstimulation. If anything, it made him move slower, more deliberate, dragging out every last wave of pleasure until you were nothing more than a trembling, panting mess on his desk. He loved it. Loved seeing you fall apart beneath him from just his fingers.

By the time he finally pulled out, you gasped at the sudden emptiness, your walls fluttering around nothing. The loss of contact sent a shiver through you, and you collapsed against his desk, completely spent.

The only sound in the room was the heavy rise and fall of both your breaths. The air was thick, humid with sex.

A few seconds passed before you finally sat up, still trying to gather your senses. Your voice was weak, hoarse when you muttered, “Fuck… that was my first time—”

Joel’s body tensed. His head snapped up, his dark eyes wide with panic. “This was your first time??” His voice cracked, full of disbelief and something close to fear.

You blinked at him, then let out a breathless laugh. “Oh my God, no,” you said, still catching your breath. “I was gonna say… it’s the first time I’ve ever orgasmed.”

Joel’s tense shoulders immediately dropped, and he let out a deep, relieved chuckle. His head fell back for a moment as he ran a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ, darlin’, you scared the hell outta me.”

You smirked, tilting your head at him, amused by his reaction. “Didn’t mean to give you a heart attack, Professor.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head before giving you a knowing look. “Guess those college boys ain’t doin’ it for ya, huh?”

Your cheeks burned, but you bit your lip and shook your head. “Not even close.”

Joel’s lips curled up into a cocky little smirk, his eyes still dark with lingering desire. You could see it,he wanted more. He wanted to push you down onto that desk, spread you open, and take you apart all over again.

Your hands moved without thinking, trailing down his chest, over the fabric of his shirt, until they reached the thick outline of his cock straining against his jeans. He was still painfully hard. You pressed your palm against him, feeling the heat of it through the denim, watching the way his jaw clenched, his body tensing beneath your touch.

Encouraged by his reaction, you reached for his belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle. But before you could undo it, his large, calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.

“Uhm… we shouldn’t do that,” he muttered, his voice suddenly hesitant.

You blinked, confused. “Why?”

Joel sighed, rubbing his free hand over his scruffy jaw. His voice was quieter now, almost like he was reminding himself as much as he was telling you. “I’m married. And I’m your professor.”

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “You sure as hell didn’t care when your ring was rubbin’ my clit.”

Joel flinched, his expression twisting into something conflicted. You could see it, the guilt creeping in, the weight of reality slamming back into him.

But it was too late for that.

Your chest tightened, a strange mix of anger and disappointment bubbling inside you. Just minutes ago, he was inside you, whispering dirty little praises in that deep Texas drawl, making you feel things you never thought possible. And now he was pulling away, acting like he suddenly had morals?

“Fuckin’ coward,” you muttered under your breath.

You yanked your wrist from his grip and slid off the desk, legs still shaky. Your panties were somewhere on the floor, but you didn’t bother looking for them. Instead, you grabbed your skirt, tugging it back into place with shaky hands.

Joel didn’t say anything. He just stood there, stiff and silent, watching you with a guilty look in his eyes.

You swallowed the lump in your throat before turning toward the door. “Y’know what, Professor?” you said bitterly, glancing at him one last time. “I hope she doesn’t fuck you either.”

And with that, you stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind you.

Joel exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face as he leaned back against his desk. His cock was still rock hard, his fingers still coated with your wetness, his shirt still stained with your release.

He should feel ashamed. He should feel regret.

But all he could think about was how badly he wanted to pull you back into his office and fuck you until you forgot your own damn name.

[absinthehyuk]

like a part 2 where the reader just keeps on acting nonchalant like nothing happened and wonwoo gets more and more riled up. cause “why am i the only one going insane here” type of feelings. and he just ends up taking here in a dressing room or something cause damn they need to fuck

she’ll ride the dick like a carnival

pairing. idol! wonwoo + new staff! fem reader!

summary. since that one fateful night at his apartment, jeon wonwoo realizes that he is fucked. but not really, since he can’t seem to get you in his bed.

warnings. [PLEASE READ] dom/sub dynamics, slight dom wonwoo, dirty talk, use of nicknames, THICK dick and lowkey desperate wonu, reader is VERY nonchalant, implied mirror sex, riding, wonu almost cries… AGAIN, sloppy kisses on the tits, subtle jizz play — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. desperate sex that turns steamy and passionate is my favorite genre holy shit 😭 first time answering an ask! hope you like it :)

find part 1 here

jeon wonwoo could only watch you from across the waiting room as you pranced around in a midi skirt, chatting happily with the staff.

he wanted to cuss you out.

shifting in his chair, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, angrily sniffing.

how could you act like this?

how were you so nonchalant? so unbothered about the fact that you had him seeing stars merely 72 hours ago?

it had been 3 days since you had sucked the soul out of his body. 3 days since he couldn’t stop rutting his cock into his fist to the thoughts of you. 3 days since he had become insane.

he tried to get your attention, he really did. the poor boy would keep trying to pry anything out of your mouth that gave him a hint about your feelings.

but you were unpredictable, just as he had thought.

your face was like a wall — completely emotionless. any thought that passed through your head could barely be understood and wonwoo wanted to smash his head into the concrete at that realization.

“jeez, what’s got you this tense?” mingyu sits down next to him, adjusting his costume as he stared at his best friend. “i’m just… worried about the performance, nothing else.”

mingyu knew that wonwoo was lying.

hell, even wonwoo knew he was lying.

but none of them seemed to question each other as they sat in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.

“wonwoo-ssi?” your voice called out to him. the boy singled out you and your sound amid nearly 50 people in the room, surprisingly springing to his feet as he walked towards you.

“your outfit is ready, follow me.”

the man silently walked behind you, striding toward the secluded attached room in the corner.

he pulled the curtain and stepped inside, and he was immediately handed his clothes. the outfit was simple— a sleeveless shirt and some baggy white jeans.

“i’ll be outside,” you nodded, bidding him farewell as you pulled the curtain.

sighing, wonwoo turned to look at himself in the mirror. his hardened cock stared at him in the face— a haunting image of the effect you had on him.

how am i the only one who is this riled up? he wondered. i can’t be the only one… right?

he wasn’t.

you would be lying if you said your panties weren’t glued to your core since you walked in. the sight of him had your head spinning, wanting nothing more than to strip him down and pull his dick into your throat.

but of course, you were not some depraved whore.

you set boundaries after that night. he was your client, and you were his stylist. of course you weren’t supposed to suck him off!

the fitting next morning after the incident had made you lose your self control. you recall how you had to get yourself off in the bathroom, relishing in the thoughts of seeing wonwoo in a tight fitted suit.

but of course, you would never voice these thoughts out loud. being in the same room as him was punishment enough to remind you of your sins. you wondered if applying for a styling job for a different member would work—

“uh?” wonwoo’s deep voice cut off your lewd thoughts, making you shake your head to clear them out. “a little help?”

“you good?" you sighed. “i’m coming in,” sucking in a breath as you stepped inside the small box.

wonwoo was leaning against one of the mirrored walls, one leg up on a stool in the corner. “what’s wrong?” you searched for a solution in his face.

“i seem to be stuck in a seemingly hard situation.”

one look down to his hands, you immediately realized the problem.

wonwoo’s dick was hard, the bulge over his boxers made that evident. the problem? the sheer size of his chub was not allowing the zipper of his jeans to zip up.

the man had a small waist but also had weirdly broad hips. his pants always had to be altered so that they suited his body type.

however, this was a problem that no other stylist had ever had to deal with.

“what do i do?” wonwoo whined, pouting his lips as he pushed up his glasses.

“wonwoo-ssi,” you spoke. your voice remained surprisingly stable, despite the fact that you could feel your pussy pulsating.

“i think you need to solve this problem on your own,” you looked into his eyes, almost feeling bad at how he panted.

however, before you could turn around and leave, wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and caged you between his arms.

your back hit one of the mirrored walls, as a surprised gasp fumbled from your mouth.

“wonw—”

“for the love of god woman, do you not see what you do to me?”

the desperation in his voice made your knees buckle as you stared into his eyes, gaze alternating to his lips as he bit them.

wonwoo heaved as he inched closer towards your face. “give me one good reason why you shouldn’t take care of my problem. you’re the one that caused it after all.”

hearing him voice out his thoughts, you turned your head to the side, embarrassed by the effect his voice had on you. how was this even your fault—

but with a harsh grip, jeon wonwoo grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing to you look at him.

“can’t think of anything can you?” his head dipped down, tracing his teeth along your neck. the sensation made you hiss silently. “help me, please. what would carat think if i went out on stage looking like this?”

“sit,” is all you managed to say, voice enamoured with need.

you all but pushed wonwoo onto the iron stool in the corner, hauling yourself onto his lap as you crashed your lips into his.

fuck, your lips were way better than he had ever imagined. they were soft and pillowy as they engulfed his mouth, tongue grazing against his own as you ground down on his crotch.

wonwoo’s free hand pushed your head impossibly close as he licked into your mouth, wanting to memorize every crevice.

spit dribbles from your connected mouths, sloppy and wet kisses sounding obscenely loud in the secluded area. the man does not care that drool is now staining his tank top. he could never get enough of this.

his other hand gripped tightly onto your ass, groping and fondling the fat. after a second, he pulled away from you, glasses foggy and lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath.

“shit baby, i can’t take it anymore,” he whisper-screamed, tears coating his lashes. you wished you could burn this image into your head for the rest of your life.

you could only nod, ready to sink to your knees before wonwoo stopped you, tutting. “pull your panties to the side, doll,” he commanded, chest heaving.

the change in his tone had your thighs tingling. you pulled your midi skirt up, tucking the ends into the hem as you exposed yourself.

at the sight of your baby blue cotton panties, jeon wonwoo nearly growled.

the material was thoroughly soaked and ruined, a deep blue patch staining the cloth. as you pulled them to the side, he noticed how slicked up your heat was, a string of arousal connected your folds to the cotton.

you gripped onto his shoulders for support in your half-sitting position as he glided two fingers against your folds.

“so wet for me already, huh? don’t even need to work you up for my cock,” he smacked his lips. “filthy girl.”

wonwoo strained his ears to listen for any footsteps near the area as he sucked his dampened fingers into his mouth. your taste was making him dizzy, breath faltering as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

without wasting any more time, you pulled his cock out of its confines, sliding his boxers down just enough to free his length.

the sight of him always made you salivate. however, it was clear that he didn’t want that happening today.

steadily, you positioned yourself over him, hovering before you finally pushed his fat tip in.

the sensation had you moaning out loud— before he slapped his hand over your mouth. “shh! don’t be so loud baby, they will hear us,” he cooed.

you nodded frantically, slowly inching downwards as his dick began to fill you up. once he was bottomed out, you couldn’t help but sob into his palm.

“i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” he smirked, shushing you with sweet words as he let you adjust to his size.

wonwoo’s thick dick was buried up to your hilt, and you felt so incredibly full. your poor walls clenched around his cock, nearly making him bust.

without a word, the man beneath you grabbed at your waist, moving you up and down on his length, slowly. with him pistoning in and out of you, you could feel your senses going into overdrive.

wonwoo tugged your top down with his teeth, suckling along the valley of your breasts to keep himself quiet. your pussy felt incredibly tight, creaming him for all he was worth.

his strong arms continued to guide you, until your legs automatically adjusted to the pace. your body began to move on its own accord— tits jiggling in wonwoo's mouth with each bounce.

"f-fuck!" you whimpered, beginning to lose your mind. for a moment, he looks up at you through his glasses, smiling widely from between your breasts.

the bastard's cheeky grin has you forgetting your own name as he lapped his tongue around your skin like he fucking owned it.

"already going dumb on my cock? shi— you ride so well baby."

your bounces show him just how stretched you were, making wonwoo's stomach clench as he split you apart. you tease him a little by slowing down, grinding down on him as he bites his lips and throws his head back.

as his hands grab onto your cheeks to spread them, he accidentally catches a glimpse of your back in the mirror opposite to you two.

god, you looked so fucking hot.

without knowing why, you felt him twitch inside. "not gonna— oh shit! — last very long now baby."

at the sound of his confession, you bring a hand down to rub at your clit. taking the hint, he begins to rut back into you, using all his strength to fuck into your heat.

"p—please wonwoo hah! cum inside, please please please,"

you're not sure why you beg, but you're too cock drunk to process anything but the fact that you want him filling you up, stuffing your cunt full with his release.

"you su— fuck fuck fuck—" wonwoo whispers, biting down on your right tit to subdue the moan that was about to leave his throat.

with that and a grunt, he cums inside your pussy, filling you up to the brim. his length twitches inside you, shooting out excess spurts. feeling himself soften, wonwoo pulls out of you. you whine at the sudden sensation of feeling so empty.

the boy stays mesmerized at the way your cum mixes together, escaping your spent hole in small globs.

as a pathetic attempt, he uses two fingers to plug the release back inside you, making you whimper again at the sudden intrusion. "sorry," he apologizes, before placing your panties back where they belonged.

with a fluid motion, jeon wonwoo tucks himself back into his calvin klein boxers and then zipping his pants up, meeting your dazed eyes with another cute smile. "see? it fits now."

you can’t help but smile back at him, panting to catch your breath.

your thighs hurt from the awkward position, but you were sure that you would never have it any other way.

so, that's how you end up walking around the rest of the working day— wonwoo's cum safely filled up inside you, as you and him exchanged comically wide-eyed looks every few minutes, a shade of pink grazing your cheeks.

© absinthehyuk, 2024.

[keeryhours]

teen pregnancy series - steve harrington part 2

Steve Harrington x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Teen Pregnancy Series Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

Part 1

You find yourself pregnant with your best friend Nancy’s boyfriend’s baby after a drunken mistake.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, pregnancy, traumatic birth, pregnancy complications, angst

Word Count: 16.4k

A/N:

Please read part 1 first if you haven’t yet! I worked so hard on this one so I’m excited to have the finished thing posted for you guys! Thanks again to the besties @punkrockmlchael @the-witty-pen-name @lesservillain @glassbxttless 💕

Friday came much too soon. You dressed nice for school, not bothering to hide the belly. You wore a little dress that showed off your figure, and a pair of boots. Steve smiled when he saw you, his eyes roaming your body.

“You look beautiful,” he said as you climbed into his car. “They’re probably going to like you more than they like me.”

School had become hell. It helped that Steve had your back. Steve was getting much less shit than you were. In fact, most of the guys at school thought he was something of a legend. But when you were alone, your classmates were vicious.

Someone you never expected to find comfort in was Carol Perkins.

“Talk to her like that again and I’ll kick your ass.”

It was seemingly out of nowhere. One second some kids were making rude comments, then the next thing you knew Carol slid up beside you, linking her arm in yours and telling them off. You were confused as she stepped off with her head held high, taking you with her.

“Um…”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’m not gonna let anyone give you shit.”

It wasn’t long before you were spending most every minute of your day with either Carol or Steve. Even Steve was a little skeptical of Carol’s intentions, but she seemed sincere.

And she wasn’t as bad as you, Nancy, and Barb had thought. She was sweet - something you never thought you’d say - and she was funny. And she really did have your back. She even stared down Nancy giving you dirty looks in chem.

After school Friday, you followed Steve out to his car just like every day. Only neither of you were taking this lightly. You’d finally be meeting the Harringtons, and Steve had appropriately scared you for the dinner.

“Just letting you know, they’re awful,” he said, talking with his hands as he drove. “Like, really awful. My dad is an ass. My mom just lets him. It’s a whole thing.”

He was doing nothing to help your ‘meeting the parents’ nerves. “Are they really that bad?”

“They’re pretty bad.” He sighed. “I think they’re trying to make an effort, though. They want you and the baby to be around. They’re actually a little excited for their first grandchild.”

You smiled a little at that, hand resting on your belly. It was evident through your clothes and you didn’t attempt to hide it now. “I hope they like me.”

“They probably will,” he said. “Like I said, probably more than they like me.”

You were surprised at just how nice the Harrington’s house was. Steve pulled into the driveway of a gorgeous two story home with a large pool in the back. He gave you a nervous smile and squeezed your hand  like well, here we go.

You walked hand in hand to the front door, Steve letting himself in. The smell of dinner hit you immediately, making your mouth water - was that steak? - and your stomach rumbled.

“Hungry?” Steve laughed.

“Starving,” you admitted.

“Well, good. I’m sure my mom cooked a feast.”

As you walked into the kitchen, a well dressed woman stood over the stove, her hair pulled back tightly. A man in a suit was leaning against the island bar, talking to her. They both looked over as you and Steve walked in, and the woman gave you a polite smile.

“Steve,” she said. “So this must be…”

Steve said your name for you, introducing you to both his parents. “This is my mom and dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” his mother said, reaching for your hand. “I’m Melissa.”

You took her hand and smiled politely as you shook it. You waited for his father to introduce himself, but he said nothing. Finally, his mother spoke up again. “And this is Richard, Steve’s father.”

You could feel their gazes drop to your stomach immediately as you dropped your arm. You suddenly wanted to cover up, wishing you had worn the sweatshirt again, but it was too late for that now.

Steve surprised you by reaching over and placing a hand on your stomach, too. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room. “Are you okay?” he asked, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “I’m okay.”

Steve’s hand lingered protectively on your belly for a moment longer before he moved, turning back to face his parents. “So…what’s for dinner?”

Dinner turned out to be steaks, with mashed potatoes and green beans on the side. Your stomach growled with hunger as you eyed the food being placed on the table - eating for two was correct, because you had been infinitely hungrier the past few months.

You all took a seat at the table, Steve’s dad sitting at the head of the table with his wife next to him, Steve on the other side with you at the end of the table. You were so relieved it was time to eat, it distracted you from your nerves as you dug into your plate.

“So,” Steve’s mother began, looking at you. “Steve tells us you’re very smart.”

You blushed, looking over at Steve, who smiled sheepishly at you. “I…I’m in some advanced classes, yes.”

“College plans?” she asked, almost as if she had forgotten about the pregnancy entirely.

Your heart sunk in your chest. “I was planning to go to Emerson. But now…”

An awkward silence settled over the room. The only sounds to be heard were the dishes clinking together as you all ate. It was Steve’s dad who spoke next. “What do the two of you plan to do about all this?” he asked, getting straight to the point as he gestured between you and Steve.

You froze again, but Steve spoke up. “What do you mean, dad?”

“I mean,” he said, looking sternly at both of you. “I don’t think either of you understand the gravity of the situation you’re in.” He looked at you. “You’re an only child, yes?”

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“And so are you,” he said to Steve. “So, what do either of you know about babies? And how hard it will be to take care of one?”

No one said anything. You weren’t sure if there was anything to be said to that.

“Not only that,” he continued, “but how will you support yourselves and a baby?”

He was asking questions you truly didn’t know the answer to. “I was thinking I could-“ Steve began, but his father cut him off.

“Thinking you could work for me?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “We had talked about it-“

“Son, you’re welcome to come work with me. But you’re on your own. This child is your responsibility, I expect you to take care of both the baby and her.”

Steve looked at you. He reached over the table and took your hand. “I can do that.”

His father nodded. “Good.” Another beat of silence. “Do you both plan to finish school?”

“Yes,” you said quickly. “The baby won’t be born until after graduation, so…”

“Yeah, we’re both going to finish the year,” Steve said. He looked at you. “She still wants to go to college, maybe…after the baby is born,”

You nodded. “Yeah…if I can.”

“That’s good,” Steve’s mother said, giving you a smile. “I’m glad you have big dreams and ambitions.”

You weren’t sure if she was proud of you, or thought you were naive. “Community college, at least.”

“How far along are you?” she asked.

“15 weeks.”

Steve’s parents’ eyes widened. “Almost halfway there,” his mom said, her voice nervous. “We didn’t realize it was that far along.”

Steve’s hand rested on your knee beneath the table.

“She’s been taking good care of herself,” he said. “Going to all her appointments, taking her vitamins.”

“Well that’s the bare minimum, isn’t it, son?” his dad said.

Steve clenched his jaw. He looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. “She’s doing a good job.”

“Look, son,” he said. “There’s a lot more to having a baby than just having it. You have to worry about diapers, formula if she doesn’t or can’t breastfeed, clothes and supplies-“

“Dad, I know.”

“I don’t know that you do.” His father’s stern voice commanded the entire room. You felt extremely uncomfortable. “I can’t believe you, son. You’re a Harrington. And look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Richard-“ his mother said, but he kept talking as if she hadn’t said anything.

“You’re barely 18 years old. Still in high school. And now you’ve got some girl pregnant?” You felt so small at that - some girl - you shrunk into yourself, wishing you could disappear.

“Dad.”

“No, Steve, I don’t want to hear it. You’ve disgraced this family. You’ve embarrassed not only me, but your poor mother as well. Do you know how you’re being talked about down at the clubhouse? It’s humiliating for both me and your mother.”

Steve gripped his fork tightly. He thought about stabbing it into his father’s hand. “Those people do nothing but gossip anyway-“

“Steven!” he snapped. Steve jumped at the sound of his government name, feeling like a child again as he shrunk under the harsh gaze of his father. “You are not to talk to me that way. Do you want a job with me to take care of your little family or not?”

Silence. “I do.”

“Then act like it.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was almost disturbing to see Steve give up like that. You felt terrible for him - your dad hadn’t taken the pregnancy news well, but neither of your parents were strict. Not like this. The silence left behind after that exchange was deafening.

If you hadn’t been pregnant and starving, you would have lost your appetite. Instead you cleared your plate, and could have gone for seconds if someone offered. After dinner you helped Mrs. Harrington clean up, washing the dishes alongside her - which seemed to earn her approval. You could hear a heated conversation between Steve and his father muffled from the living room.

Once the dishes had been done and the dining room and kitchen were spotless, Steve’s parents told you goodbye. “Thank you for coming to dinner,” Mrs. Harrington said. “We enjoyed having you.” Mr. Harrington said nothing.

“Thank you for having me,” you said. You smiled at them, feeling their eyes once again on your stomach now that you were standing. It was something you were having to get used to in general. Everyone looked.

When Steve placed his hand on your back and led you out of the house and into the fresh air of the night, you took a deep breath that you’d needed for hours. “Well. Glad that’s over.”

Steve laughed, opening the passenger door for you. He took your hand to help you lower yourself into the seat. “Told you they were bad.”

He climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door. “Yeah, your dad was an asshole,” you said. It made him laugh again.

As he started the engine and began driving back towards your house, a silence settled, although this was a much more comfortable one. Eventually he reached over and took your hand in his, which surprised you but you weren’t complaining. It was just friendly. Nothing romantic between you.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. “Even though they seemed like assholes-“

“Your mom was fine!”

“-believe me,” he continued, “you earned points in their book for even having the balls to show up and take their shit.”

You smiled. “You really think they didn’t hate me?”

“Oh, they loved you. That’s just how they show it.”

It wasn’t long before the BMW pulled up outside your home. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow over the yard. “Want me to walk you in?” Steve asked.

“Sure.”

Steve followed you up the walkway and to the door, his hand resting on your back as if you might hurt yourself without his help. You entered the house to find both of your parents in the living room, watching TV.

“Steve!” your mother said. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” he said. “Just making sure she gets home safely.”

“Well, we appreciate that.” Your mom smiled. Steve gave you a tight hug, one that you were surprised by. He hadn’t been this affectionate with you.

“I’ll see you later,” he said. You watched as he turned and left, feeling like he was taking a piece of you with him, too. You wanted to reach for him, to grasp his hand and bring him back, bring him upstairs and to your room. It wasn’t even sex you were after (although being pregnant had made you super horny), but even just to be held. Steve made you feel safe, cared for.

But you couldn’t do that. It would be weird, for one. It was weird enough that you wanted him in that way. You went upstairs and took your shower before settling into bed - drifting off to thoughts of Steve.

—

Things were getting easier. Well, for the most part. You were 18 weeks pregnant now, bump perfectly round and visible in all your clothes, even the sweatshirt now. Steve never left your side, taking your safety as the most important thing.

You and Carol had grown tight, too. The most unlikely friendship turned out to be the best. Carol was amazing. She was like having Scary Dog Privileges. No one dared fuck with her, or you, now.

“Wheeler is a stuck up bitch,” Carol said as you passed Nancy giving you the dirtiest look once again. “Don’t mind her.”

“I just…feel bad,” you muttered, holding your books tight to your chest. “I did kind of fuck her over.”

Carol shrugged. “Shit happens. They weren’t gonna last anyway.”

“You don’t think?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, definitely not.” She scoffed. “Harrington thought she was the best thing to ever happen to him, but they would have been over by graduation.”

“Why?”

“Well, they just weren’t right for each other, for one.” She pushed a red curl behind her ear. “Harrington never could have been happy with her long term. She’s too…goody goody.”

It was true. You’d never seen Nancy break a rule in her life.

“You, however,” she said, giving you a playful smirk, “would be perfect for him.”

You blushed deeply. “That’s not true. He doesn’t even like me in that way.”

“Sure,” she said, looking at you with a smile that said she knew something you didn’t.

After school on the way home with Steve, he seemed like he had something on his mind. It wasn’t like Steve to not be chatting you up on the way home, telling you every detail of his day and asking you a million questions about how you and the baby felt. He tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road.

“…What’s up?” you finally asked, having had enough of the silence.

Steve looked over at you like you’d surprised him. “What do you mean?”

“You look like you have something on your mind,” you said. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I know.” He tapped his fingers along with the song on the radio. “I was just thinking…”

“About what?”

Steve sighed. “I was just…so, we’re having a baby together, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“And most people who have a baby together are…you know, together.”

You just looked at him. “What are you saying?”

He sighed again, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I’m saying…maybe we should try being together? Like, a couple?” He glanced over at you. “For the baby, of course,” he added quickly.

“Steve…”

“No, it’s okay. It was a stupid idea.”

You felt conflicted. On one hand, you wanted to be with Steve, something you hadn’t even realized about yourself. You wanted to try this. But you knew Steve was only asking for the baby’s sake, not because he liked you in any kind of way. And not to even mention how Nancy would feel about it. You cared a lot about how Nancy felt. It was almost like you thought there was any chance of salvaging your friendship.

“It’s not stupid,” you said quietly. “It’s just…Nancy…”

“No, no, yeah. You’re totally right.” He gestured with his hand, drawing a clear line. “We’re just co-parents. That’s all.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. The car fell into an awkward silence. You felt bad. You wanted to take it back, to tell Steve you wanted to be with him. You wanted to kiss him on the mouth and be touched like he’d touched you that one night. You wanted to do those things with him again. You wanted him to love you.

The BMW pulled up outside your house, but you didn’t get out right away. You debated saying something about it, changing your mind and telling Steve you liked him, but he spoke first.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I even brought that up,” he said. “It’s not like…I mean, we aren’t interested in each other in that way anyway, right? It was a dumb idea. Just forget about it.”

His words struck you in the chest, making your heart ache. You had started to suspect that maybe Steve did like you, but his words put an end to those silly thoughts. How could he? You were nothing like Nancy, not really, despite being her best friend for many years. Nancy was better than you in every way.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s fine, I know you didn’t mean it or anything.”

Something crossed Steve’s face, but he didn’t say anything else. “Call me if you need anything, yeah?” he said instead, the same thing he said most times he dropped you off.

“Okay. I will.” You climbed out of the car, holding your emotions inside as you reached your front door and unlocked it with your key. You turned to see Steve still waiting there, watching to make sure you got inside safely. It only made it hurt worse, the way you wished you could run into his arms and kiss him like you’d dreamed of since that night. But you couldn’t. He wasn’t yours.

He wasn’t yours.

—

You had been counting down to the 20 week appointment since you first accepted the pregnancy and allowed yourself to feel excited. It was the big one - the anatomy scan, where they’d see if everything was progressing the way it should, and if you were having a boy or a girl.

Steve was buzzing with excitement when he picked you up that morning. He handed you a hot chocolate from your favorite place as you got into the car.

“What’s the occasion?” you teased with a smile.

“You know what’s the occasion,” he laughed. “Are you as excited as I am?”

“I don’t know, that’s tough to beat.”

Steve had been talking about it even more than you had. He had a calendar where he was crossing off every day until your due date, and to this appointment. He was probably the most involved dad you’d ever seen, and the baby wasn’t even here yet.

“My mom’s meeting us at the doctor’s office after school,” you said. “She wanted to be there.”

“My mom asked if she could come.”

Your eyes widened. “She did?”

“Yeah.” He started driving to school. “I told her I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Would you have wanted her there?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I mean…” you thought. “I wouldn’t have minded, I don’t think.”

“Really?”

“Well, she is the baby’s grandmother…”

Those words fell heavily onto Steve’s shoulders. “Yeah.”

“But maybe we can tell them in a fun way. Get a little cake or something.”

Steve smiled at you before he turned back to the road. “That’s cute. Yeah, we could do that. I’m sure she’d like it.”

“After the appointment,” you said, “we’ll stop at the bakery.”

The school day really dragged by. You were so excited to get out of there and go to your appointment, every class felt like it was 5 hours long. Steve felt the same way, complaining through the whole day and all of lunch.

“I just wanna knooow,” he whined, leaning back in his seat in the cafeteria. “Like, we’ve been waiting so long.”

“Oh my god, Harrington, we get it,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. “We get that you’re excited about your kid.”

“Oh, stop,” Carol said, shoving Tommy’s arm. “Let them be excited. It’s exciting.” She gave you a reassuring smile and squeezed your hand. “You guys talk about it as much as you want to.”

Tommy scoffed. “Really? You’re outnumbering me?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Sorry, Hagan, majority rules,” Steve teased. “I get to talk about my kid all day. You’re just jealous, anyway.”

“Jealous?” Tommy said, incredulous, his mouth dropping open. “I am not jealous you’re having a kid in high school.”

“Sure, sure.”

After lunch, you and Carol walked to your lockers together like you did every day. Only she passed hers, following you all the way to yours and leaning against the closed one next to you.

“Can I go with you?” she asked. 

You furrowed your brow, slowing as you took books out of your locker. “Go with me where?”

“To your doctor’s appointment, silly?” she popped her bubblegum, looking at you like the question was obvious. “Can I come?”

“You- why?”

“Because it’s exciting!” she squealed, grabbing your arms. You caught the attention of Nancy and Barb from across the hallway, who both gave you dirty looks. Carol didn’t even notice them. “I wanna find out if I’m gonna be auntie to a little boy or a girl. I think it’s a girl.”

You hadn’t even realized Carol cared so much about your pregnancy. “I…I mean, yeah, you can come.”

“Yes!” she cheered. “I can’t wait to be able to go shopping. I’m gonna spoil them so much, you have no idea.”

After school, Steve surprised you by your locker, making you jump and place a hand over your belly. “Jesus, Steve.”

“Sorry,” he said. “But are you excited? Are you ready to go?”

You closed the locker with all your stuff in it, turning the dial to lock it. “Yes. I’m ready. Carol’s coming, too.”

He looked like he might have a question about that, but he shrugged his shoulders instead. “Okay. The more the merrier.”

Nancy and Barb watched as Steve placed a hand on your round belly, 20 weeks now and no longer fitting into any of your old clothes. Your mom had taken you out shopping for some maternity clothes, which you rejected at first because they all looked like old lady clothes. Ultimately you ended up in a pair of maternity jeans with a stretchy band in the front, and a wardrobe of Steve’s t-shirts he so graciously let you borrow, just oversized enough to fit over the belly.

He didn’t care who was watching as he took the minute to rub his large hand over your stomach, smiling at you with such affection it made your heart beat fast. “I’m really excited,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Your heart swelled. You wanted to say something - 

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Your own thoughts shocked you. Where did that come from?

“I’m excited too,” you said instead. Your hand rested on top of his. You could practically feel Nancy and Barb burning a hole into the back of your head. Steve didn’t even notice them. He just smiled back at you.

“Let’s go,” he said. He put his hand on your lower back and guided you out of the building, not caring if anyone was looking (they were). Carol was waiting by the car, her face breaking out into a huge grin when you and Steve approached. Tommy stood beside her, looking much less excited.

“This is so exciting!” Carol squealed, grabbing your hands. “It’s a girl, I know it.”

“I think it’s a boy,” Tommy muttered, and you smiled - seems like he was more invested than he let on.

“You just want to be his favorite,” Carol said, elbowing him in the ribs.

“We’re gonna follow you,” Tommy said, swinging his keys around his finger. “So whenever you guys are ready.”

Steve helped you get into the passenger seat - you needed a little help these days. He got into the driver’s seat and turned some music on, pulling out of the school parking lot. Tommy’s car followed.

At the office, your mom’s car was waiting right out front. She smiled when she saw you, but you could tell she was feeling emotional. She pulled you into a hug when you got out of the car, holding you close.

“Still can’t believe my baby is having a baby,” she said, sniffling. You hugged her back tightly. Becoming a mother yourself opened your eyes to a lot of things about your own mother.

Your entourage took up a lot of room in the tiny waiting room. Steve sat on one side of you, your mom on the other, and Tommy and Carol across from you. When the nurse called you back, they all followed. The nurse seemed a little surprised, but didn’t say anything.

She did your vitals first, taking your temperature and blood pressure. She looked a little concerned as she took the blood pressure cuff off. “Have you had high blood pressure before?”

You looked up at her, confused. “No.”

“Hm.” She wrote something down in your chart. Steve looked instantly terrified, looking between you to the nurse to your mother, who looked equally as nervous.

“Is that bad?” Steve asked.

“The doctor will discuss it with you,” the nurse said politely, which did not satisfy Steve whatsoever, but he didn’t press the subject.

Steve stayed right by your side as you waddled into the exam room, your mom and friends following behind you. Steve helped you up onto the exam table. You cradled your belly in your arms, feeling the immense love for the tiny little baby already.

It wasn’t long before the ultrasound technician came in, wheeling an ultrasound machine. An external one this time, thank god. “Good afternoon!” she said, giving a huge smile to everyone in the room. “I see we have a party going on in here.”

She instructed you to pull your shirt up as she prepared the machine. She squirted the cold gel onto your belly, pressing the wand hard into your skin and moving it around as she tried to find a good view of the baby. Steve sat right next to you, holding your hand tightly. His eyes were glued to the screen. Everyone’s were.

The small baby popped up on the screen, looking more like a baby than you’d ever seen it. It was real, it felt real - that was a baby. Your baby. Yours and Steve’s. A little Harrington.

Steve’s free hand shot up and covered his mouth as he took in the sight of his child on the screen. Tears welled in his eyes, and he was shaking. He squeezed your hand, and you squeezed his back. Your mom had also started crying, Carol watching with her hand over her chest, even Tommy was moved.

The tech took measurements of every body part, logging them in your chart. Everyone just watched the process, watching the baby moving around on the screen until the moment you’d all been waiting for finally came.

“Do you want to know the gender?” she asked, smiling at each person in the room.

“Yes!” you and Steve both said together. You looked at each other, Steve smiling and a giggle escaping your lips.

“Alright then,” the tech smiled. She moved the wand, then wrote something in the chart again. “You’re having a baby girl.”

The whole room erupted into excitement. But when Steve looked at you, it was like you were the only two people in the room.

“A daughter,” he said, like he was in awe. “We’re having a daughter.”

“Yeah, we are,” you said as the tears finally fell down your cheeks. Steve reached up and wiped them away with his thumb.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “This is the best day of my life. So far.”

That made your heart soar. You squeezed his hand again, and he held yours with both of his, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for this. This is the best gift I ever could have hoped for.”

“Steve…” you said, tears falling even faster now.

“Don’t cry, please.” He wiped your tears away again. “Just…thank you.”

After the ultrasound, the tech left and you were left waiting for the doctor. The room was buzzing with excitement over the news, everyone talking all at once.

“I can’t believe I’m having a granddaughter,” your mom said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Reminds me of when I was pregnant with you.”

You imagined what it might be like one day to be supporting your daughter - the one growing in your belly now, this tiny little creature. It was hard to imagine her as a real human being who would grow into her own person one day. You hoped she wouldn’t be having a baby in high school, at least.

“Yeah, well,” Steve said, “if any guy comes within 100 feet of her I’m beating him with a stick.”

“Ohmygod,” Carol said. “We have to go shopping. There’s so much cute stuff for baby girls. Do you have anything yet?”

“Not really,” you admitted. You had been mostly waiting for this appointment - it’s like it hadn’t felt real before. Now, it was real.

“That’s okay,” she said. “We’ll go get all kinds of stuff.”

Steve rubbed your belly as everyone kept talking, like he was in his own little world. Just him and his baby girl, moving beneath his palm. The movements were soothing, relaxing you.

Finally the doctor walked in, greeting everyone with a smile. She scanned through your chart before speaking. “I see you had some high blood pressure today.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’ve never had that before.”

“We’re going to keep an eye on that,” she said. “I want to see you here again next week, okay?”

“Next week?” you asked, confused. Your appointments had been monthly until now.

“Yes,” she said. “High blood pressure can be a sign of a lot of things, some small and some big. I just want to keep an eye on it.”

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked, interrupting the conversation. “Is she okay? Is the baby?”

“There’s no reason to worry right now,” she said, trying to calm Steve. “If there’s something more serious going on, we’ll catch it.”

Steve begrudgingly accepted that answer. He wasn’t trying to be a total asshole, he was just scared. But the appointment concluded after that, and then all of you were walking out of the building together.

“I’ll see you at home, honey,” your mom said, giving you a tight hug. “Drive home safe,” she added, pointing to Steve.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting.

“I’ll call you,” Carol said, pulling you into a hug. “Love you.”

When only you and Steve were left, he helped you into the car again. He started driving towards town. “How are you feeling? About all of this?”

“I’m happy,” you said, hand rubbing the bump. “Really happy,”

Steve shot you a smile before turning back to the road. “Me too.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the bakery. Inside you ordered two cupcakes with pink filling, ready for Steve’s parents to discover the news. It was hard not to take a bite as you left the bakery.

“I can pick you up tomorrow to come have dinner with us and…you know, tell them,” he said.

“Okay,” you agreed. You held the cupcakes safely on your lap as he drove you back home.

Your house wasn’t far. Your mom had had to go back to work and your didn’t hadn’t gotten off yet, so it was empty. Steve came in with you, following you as you deposited the cupcakes in the kitchen and then up to your bedroom, carrying your bag for you. He dropped it by the end of your bed where you always sat it. It was weird how he’d started to know you so well.

He approached you, placing both hands on your belly. It was so natural for him now, it was his favorite thing to do. He got down to his knees in front of you so he was face level with your belly.

“Hi, baby girl,” he said. Your heart thudded hard in your chest - he had never done something like this before. “I’m your daddy.” He rubbed a hand across your stomach, caressing it lovingly. “I love you very much already. Did you know that? I can’t wait to meet you.”

Tears sprung to your eyes. You quickly wiped them away, watching the moment between Steve and - your daughter.

“You be good for your momma, okay?” he continued. “She’s working hard growing you and finishing school at the same time. She’s the coolest. You’re going to love her.”

You could feel her wiggling around, kicking at Steve’s hand. His eyes went wide- “Did she just kick me??”

You laughed, amazed. “Yeah, I think she did.”

Steve was smiling so big, his own eyes welling with tears. He kissed your belly, rubbing where he had felt the kick. “I love you. I love you so much.”

When Steve stood again, he looked happy. So happy. It made your heart swell, too.

“I guess I gotta get going,” he said, looking like he absolutely did not want to go. “Still under curfew, and all.”

“Okay,” you begrudgingly agreed. You found yourself wanting to spend more time with Steve - and you already spent just about all your time together. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Steve’s face brightened at that reminder. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

He surprised you when he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly while still being careful of the bump. It felt like a loss when he pulled away, and then he was leaving, taking a piece of you with him.

—

The next day, Steve picked you up for dinner just as planned. You had the cupcakes ready to go. You were nervous, your hands shook as you buckled your seatbelt. Steve could sense your anxiety immediately, reaching over and taking your hand.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. They’re gonna be happy. The hard part is over.”

You tried to keep that in mind during the ride there. You were extra careful with the cupcakes, not allowing even a smidge of icing to be messed up. At the Harrington’s Steve came around and took them from you before helping you get up.

Inside the house smelled delicious once again. Roasted chicken this time, with potatoes and greens. Mrs. Harrington smiled as the two of you walked into the kitchen.

She greeted you by name, walking around the island bar to hold your hand in both of hers. “How are you feeling, darling? How’s the little one?”

“Good, and good,” you answered both her questions. She surprised you by placing a hand on your belly - you had yet to have anyone but Steve do that. It felt strange.

“What are these?” she asked, gesturing to the two boxes in Steve’s hand.

“We brought cupcakes…to announce the gender,” you explained.

“How cute!” She took them from Steve carefully, sitting them on the counter. “Richard should be down any minute now.”

Mr. Harrington came down the stairs as you were helping Mrs. Harrington set the table. He looked stern and unfriendly as ever, still dressed nicely in a button down and slacks. He greeted you shortly.

“Should we go ahead and do the reveal before dinner?” Mrs. Harrington asked. “I don’t think I can wait.”

“Sure, we can,” you said. Steve handed one of the boxes to his father and the other to his mom. The opened them, revealing the cutely decorated cupcakes with white icing and a baby rattle on top. 

“Ready?” Steve asked.

They took the small decoration off and peeled the paper from around the sweet bread. They exchanged a look before they bit into their cupcakes at the same time.

Mrs. Harrington lit up when she saw the pink filling, squealing and throwing her arms around Steve first, then you. “A granddaughter!!”

Mr. Harrington had…no reaction. In fact, he almost seemed displeased. “You knock a girl up and you couldn’t even have a son to carry on the Harrington name?”

Silence. “Dad-“

Mr. Harrington held a hand up, silencing Steve. But nothing more was said as everyone sat down to dinner in the awkward silence.

It was uncomfortable. Mr. Harrington was a total asshole, and his wife just let him without saying a word, leading to awkward moments like these. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know if there was anything to say.

When you and Steve left, he was apologetic. “I’m so sorry. He’s such an ass. I’m really sorry he ruined the whole thing.”

You shook your head as you climbed into the car. “It’s not your fault, Steve.”

“I know. It just…feels like it reflects back on me.”

“What do you mean?” you asked him as he began the drive home.

“Just that…it feels like people think I’m an asshole just like him. Or that I will be one day. And it’s embarrassing.”

You took his hand. “Steve, you’re nothing like your dad.”

He let out a long breath. “God. Thank you. For saying that.”

“Seriously,” you continued. “Nothing like him. You’re kind, and sweet, and caring, loyal, funny, reliable-“

“You think all those things about me?” Steve asked, goofy grin on his handsome face.

You blushed deeply. “I…”

“I think you’re great, too.” His eyes were on the road now. “The best, even. I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else.”

“Not even Nancy?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. “No. Not even Nancy.”

You wanted to say it then - I love you. But it didn’t come. You tried to work up the courage, but before you had the chance to, the car was coming to a stop outside your house.

Neither of you said anything at first, neither daring to move. Steve opened his mouth to say something, but just closed it again instead. He turned to you and gave you a smile that seemed rather forced.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he said. “Take care of yourself and our little nugget.”

“I will,” you agreed. You waited to see if he would say something else, but he didn’t. So you opened the door and climbed out (with some difficulty) and walked into your house.

Up in your room that night, you thought. You had much to think about, and your mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up. You were about to resort to counting sheep when your phone rang on your bedside table.

You snatched it off the receiver, hoping to hear one particular voice only. “Hello?”

“Uh, hey.” Just as if you had manifested it, Steve’s voice came from the other line.

“Hey,” you said, smiling like an idiot because he couldn’t see you. “What’s up?”

“I just…” he sighed. “I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to talk to you.”

Butterflies took flight in your stomach and chest. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled lightly to himself. “I don’t have anything else. I didn’t exactly plan this far, I just picked up the phone.”

You couldn’t stop smiling. “What are you doing?”

“Just laying in bed…was trying to sleep, but…yeah.”

“I couldn’t sleep either,” you said. You didn’t admit that you had been longing to call him and hear his voice just as bad as he had for you.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“A little.” You rubbed your belly beneath your loose sleep shirt.

“Is there anything I can do to help? Anything I can get?”

You thought for a minute, smile on your lips. “Maybe one of those giant pregnancy pillows.”

“You got it.”

The baby kicked hard, and you moved your hand to where she was, letting out a little “Ooh.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said. “She’s just really active tonight.”

“Maybe she misses her dad.”

“Maybe she does.” There was a moment of silence over the line.

“Do you have any name ideas?” Steve asked out of the blue.

“Oh,” you said, question catching you off guard. “I haven’t really let myself think about it yet.”

“I like Elizabeth,” he offered. “Ellie.”

“That’s really cute.” You were surprised at how much you liked the name, since it was the first one either of you had brought up.

“Maybe Danielle.”

“I like that too, but I like Ellie better.”

“Me too.” You could hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “Elizabeth Harrington.”

Harrington. Your daughter will be a Harrington. You didn’t love the idea of having a different last name than her, but you didn’t want to revisit your dad’s insistence to get married.

“Elizabeth ‘Ellie’ Harrington. I like it.” You smiled too, but your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. It was hard to believe this little creature you’d been carrying around was a human being with a whole name and everything.

“What about her middle name?”

You thought. “Maybe Louise? After my grandmother?”

“Perfect. I love it.” Steve sounded infinitely happier than he had when you’d picked up the phone. He yawned, which made you yawn, too.

“I guess I’m gonna actually try to go to bed,” he said reluctantly. “Talking to you helped.”

“Glad I could be of service.” You twirled the phone cord around your finger. “I guess I should go to sleep, too.”

“Did talking to me make you feel better?

Yet another smile grew on your lips. “Yeah. It did.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight.” The way your name sounded when it left his lips had you aching for him. In any way.

But instead you hung up the phone, wishing Steve was here with you instead of in his own house. You wished he was here to hold you, to cuddle you to sleep and keep you safe. You drifted asleep to thoughts of Steve in bed behind you.

—

“I can’t believe we’re graduating in 2 weeks,” Carol said, flipping through the racks of dresses. “It’s finally over.”

“Finally,” you agreed, because you were equally ready to be done with the halls of Hawkins High. Especially at 27 weeks, just about in the third trimester and absolutely huge. You waddled through the store behind Carol, your back aching horribly.

“Ooh, this one’s cute,” she said, pulling a white dress off the rack. You remembered a time when you could still fit in anything besides maternity clothes.

“That would look really good on you!” And you knew it was the truth. But everything looked good on Carol.

“We need to find you something,” she said. “You’ve got to look hot.”

“I don’t think that’s possible at this point,” you said, gesturing to the bump. 

“It’s definitely possible. You are hot.” Carol looked at you like this was obvious information. “We’re gonna find you a dress you feel beautiful in. I promise.”

After Carol decided on a dress, you moved on to a maternity store. Once again, the majority of the selection was, for lack of a better description, old lady clothes. You felt dejected as you and Carol looked through the racks, Carol scrunching her nose up at most of the options.

Until finally, she gasped, pulling out a white dress with lace over the bodice. “Oh, this is the one.”

It was pretty. You took it from her hands and examined it. You couldn’t believe how pretty it was, in this store surrounded by the ugliest clothes you’d ever seen. But here it was. “I need to try it on first.”

You weren’t hopeful as you and Carol walked to the changing rooms, and you especially weren’t hopeful as you undressed and saw yourself in the mirror. Your body had changed so much. It was unrecognizable. You felt self conscious constantly, like you were this huge fucking planet walking around and drawing everyone’s attention, and not in a good way.

You forced yourself to turn away and slip the dress over your head. It fit surprisingly well, hugging your breasts and chest tightly before flowing down over the bump. It stopped about at your knees. It did look really nice on you, you had to admit. It accentuated the bump in a flattering way, more like look how cute I am! than I’m trying to hide this huge thing under my clothes.

You stepped out of the changing room, and Carol gasped, clapping her hands together in approval. “Oh, this is the one, baby. You’re getting this one.”

The confidence this dress gave you made you feel as if you were glowing, the way they always said pregnant women did. You were disappointed to change back into your own clothes, but when you took the dress to the counter and bought it, it made you feel better.

Maybe graduation wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

The day of graduation, you were 29 weeks, everything was swollen and you were in pain. You were in a bad mood as your mom helped you get ready. You were already in your dress, doing your makeup in the mirror as your mom styled your hair for you.

“It’s going to be fine,” your mom said. “You’re gonna walk across that stage, get your diploma, and be done with it. And you have Steve and Carol with you.”

That was true. It was the only thing that made you feel better. You were humiliated at the thought of having to walk the stage with your huge belly, everyone knowing who you were and what you did. How you got here.

Steve came and picked you up since you didn’t want to be alone, your parents driving on their own in time for the ceremony. As graduates, you had to be there early. Steve held your hand the drive there, like he could sense how scared you were. Maybe it was obvious.

Carol pulled you into a tight hug when you and Steve entered the gymnasium, all set up with a stage and lots of seating. “You look beautiful. I knew you would.”

You blushed. “Thanks, Carol.”

“You do,” Steve agreed. With the way he was looking at you you could tell he was genuine. In fact, he was looking at you like you were the only person in the room full of a hundred Hawkins High graduates. It made your heart beat fast. His hand rested on your cheek, gently caressing the skin. You both totally forgot about Carol and Tommy standing right next to you, forgot that you were embarrassed to be here. All

there was was Steve, and god, you wanted to kiss him-

“Isn’t this sweet?”

Your stomach dropped.

“Nancy,” you said, turning and seeing her standing there, looking beautiful as she always did. Barb stood next to her, looking uncomfortable.

“What do you want, Wheeler?” Carol asked, her usual attitude back. The one you did not want to be on the other side of again.

“Just wanted to congratulate the new parents,” she said mockingly. “It’s almost time now, isn’t it?”

You didn’t know what to say. You knew she was being facetious, she didn’t actually care about the state of your pregnancy or the baby. But it was still so strange to have Nancy talking to you this way. Your long time best friend, the sweetest person you knew, turned into this.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “It is.”

“Are you two together yet?” she asked. “Or has Steve gone and knocked up another slut?”

“Oh, you bitch,” Carol said, pushing through to stand right in Nancy’s face. “Why don’t you go find Byers? You two have been getting pretty cozy even since before you and Steve broke up.”

Nancy’s jaw dropped. “You-“

“Nancy, I think you should go,” Steve said, stepping between the girls to put an end to this fight before it got out of hand. “You aren’t actually here to talk, so just go.”

She looked at Steve then with so much hurt in her eyes, you felt guilty all over again. “Sure, Steve. I hope you’re happy.”

Barbara put a hand on her back as they walked away, and you let out a deep breath. Steve pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “I just feel like the biggest backstabber on the planet.”

Steve sighed. He laid his head on top of yours. “You’re not a bad person, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. You knew it was just friendly, but the sound of the nickname gave you goosebumps anyway. You wanted so badly to tilt your head up and look into his deep brown eyes, to-

“Alright, everyone, we’re getting started! Get to your assigned places!”

Steve reluctantly pulled away from you with his hands on your upper arms. He looked you over again, his face creased with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “Now let’s go graduate.”

The ceremony was long and boring. You waited your turn until Principal Higgins reached your name on the alphabetical list, then you stood, smoothed your dress down over your belly, and walked to the stage with confidence.

You could hear your parents, Steve, Tommy, and Carol cheering for you louder than anyone. You blushed, but couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Principal Higgins handed you your diploma with a smile and a “Well done,” and that was that. You exited the stage and went back to your seat, watching the remaining students graduate.

When you tossed your hat into the air at the end of the ceremony, you felt more emotions than you’d expected to. School was really over. You couldn’t even remember a time before you were in school - it had been your whole life, and now it was over. Now you had much bigger, scarier things headed your way.

Steve’s parents threw a huge graduation party for him, and were kind enough to make it a joint party for the two of you (at Steve’s insistence). There were a lot of guests, lots of Steve’s family you didn’t know and a lot of friends and acquaintances from school. You were glad Tommy and Carol were there.

You entertained yourself with the buffet table - still very much eating for two, after all. Steve stayed by your side, introducing you to his distant family members. They all looked at your belly before they met your eyes. You had grown used to that treatment.

“I’m really proud of you,” Steve said when the two of you caught a moment alone. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s really impressive that you finished school with…everything going on.”

You shook your head. “It’s really not that impressive.”

“It is, and you should be proud of yourself.” Steve looked at you for a minute. He stepped closer to you, his hand coming to rest on the side of your face. He caressed your cheek, his eyes staring deeply into yours. Your heart stuttered in your chest - were you even still breathing? He parted his lips, moving closer and closer.

He pressed his lips to your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss there. Your heart sunk - you felt like an idiot for thinking that he had feelings for you, that he was going to kiss you. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment, even though Steve had no idea what you’d been thinking he was about to do.

You spent the rest of the party feeling like an absolute fool for wishing for something that would never happen.

At the end of the party, Steve and Carol both gave you a big hug. Even Tommy joined in. Besides your own angst, it was hard not to smile when you were surrounded by these people you loved - your found family.

You rode home in the passenger seat of your mom’s car, your dad sitting in the back to give you the extra space. You watched out the window, and you thought not about your high school career coming to an end, or the baby on the way, or the situation with Nancy and Barb. You thought about Steve.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

—

You put the brochure down in front of Steve. “I signed us up.”

He picked up the paper, examining it. “‘Lamaze’? What the fuck is Lamaze?”

“It’s a birthing class,” you said, although you thought he would have gotten the hint from the pictures of smiling pregnant women and dads on the front.

“A birthing class?”

“Yes, Steve. I’m 32 weeks pregnant. This baby is coming soon, and I want to be ready.” Truth be told, you were terrified. Any amount of preparation would be better than your current state.

“I- we just- well, yeah,” he said, stumbling over his words. “It’s just-“

“What?”

Steve let out a deep breath. “It’s really coming soon, huh?” You softened as you could physically feel the anxiety radiating off his form where he sat across from you at the diner. He was jittery, bouncing his leg and fiddling with his hands.

“Yeah. Really soon,” you said, not mincing any words. “But we’ve got this. We’ve had months to prepare, we have a couple more to go. The baby has been healthy, I’ve been healthy besides the blood pressure. We have the big stuff - crib, stroller, car seat. The baby shower is in 3 weeks. We’re doing okay.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re doing okay.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“We just need to be ready for the birth, you know?” you continued. “Neither of us has ever done this before.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair, longer now than when you’d met. It suited him. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“You were gonna go with me either way.”

He laughed. “I’ll pretend I had a choice.”

The class was that Thursday. You had been staying home since graduation, while Steve had started working with his dad. It wore him out and he kind of hated it, but it was worth it for the benefits and pay. It was really the only option to take care of the three of you.

Steve picked you up after work, still dressed in his button down and tie, loosened around his neck. He smiled at you tiredly - “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. How was work?”

“Boring. Long.” He sighed as he pulled away from the curb and drove towards the hospital the class was being held at. It was the same hospital you’d be delivering at. “I hate it.”

“I know,” you said quietly. There was nothing to be done about it, though. It didn’t stop the guilt from eating at you.

At the hospital Steve helped you get out of the car, since you were officially too big to do it yourself now. Once you were down, you were stuck without help. It made you feel useless. He put his hand on your back as you waddled inside and signed in.

The goal was to give birth without the epidural. You weren’t sure how well that was going to go for you, but you were doing everything in your power to be prepared and have the best chance of making it without the medication.

You took a seat on one of the mats, Steve helping to lower you to the ground. He sat next to you, looking awkward as he looked around at all the other couples. Not that you were a couple.

The class started with relaxation exercises. Steve sat behind you, rubbing your shoulders and back as you tried to mentally get in the zone - meditating and doing deep breathing exercises along with the instructor.

The next thing they did was play a childbirth video.

Steve turned so pale you thought he would pass out. His eyes were glued to the screen, staring in absolute horror. His jaw was dropped, like he never expected childbirth to be this graphic- or dramatic.

After the video, the instructor talked some about the birthing process. You and Steve both listened intently, Steve even taking notes in a little notebook he brought along with him. It was cute.

After the lecture portion of the class, the instructor started leading you through labor breathing exercises.

“Alright, dads,” she said in her soothing voice, clapping her hands together. “Sit behind mom and hold her - hands on the belly for support - now breathe in and out with me, just like this.”

You followed her example, breathing in quickly three times then a long breath out. You repeated the exercise over and over along with the rest of the class, Steve’s strong hands on you as he breathed along with you. It was intimate. You leaned back into his touch and his body molded around yours.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered in your ear. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Keep breathing just like that. You’re gonna kick ass.”

Steve’s words were encouraging. It wasn’t exactly the method the other dads in the room were using, including more swearing than anyone else, but it worked.

The instructor taught the dads a lot of ways to support their partners, and Steve was paying full attention. Then she instructed everyone to stand - Steve pulled you up - and had the dads stand behind their partner.

“This has nothing to do with birthing techniques,” the woman said with a smile, “it’s just a moment of relief for our moms.”

Steve followed her steps and wrapped his arms around you, hands beneath your belly. Then, on the count of 3, he lifted up slightly, holding the weight of the baby. You could have cried from relief - your back hadn’t felt better in months. You hadn’t realized how much weight you’d been carrying around.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve huffed. “You carry all this around all day??”

After the short break, she went on to talk about newborn care. Steve changed his first diaper on a doll, which went about as well as you could expect, but you knew he’d be a fast learner.

Steve left the class with a newfound appreciation for you and everything you’d been going through and would go through. He was extra attentive as he helped you into the car.

“Want me to pick up some food on the way home?” he asked, turning the key in the ignition and starting the BMW.

“God, you read my mind.”

—

You were 35 weeks when your baby shower finally came around, absolutely huge and miserable. I mean huge. You didn’t even think it was possible to become so round, yet here you were.

You had started to be in a pretty bad mood all the time since being so heavily pregnant. You were, frankly, over it. Everything hurt, you felt like you took up so much space and looked like garbage, you couldn’t breathe, and there were no comfortable positions left.

Carol helped you dress in your long pink dress, the fabric hanging flatteringly along your body. You actually looked beautiful - it had been a long time since you felt beautiful.

“Look at you,” Carol said, a huge smile on her face as she looked you over. She looked as if she might cry. “I can’t believe it’s finally here.”

“I look huge,” you said, turning each way in the mirror.

“You look like a mom,” she said. “Very womanly. I dig it.”

You laughed at that, smoothing your hands over the belly. You actually didn’t feel bad.

“Steve’s going to lose his mind.”

You froze.

“What?” Carol asked, mockingly innocent. “You think I haven’t noticed how into him you are? Or how into you he is?”

“He is not into me,” you said quickly.

“Yes, he is. I’ve known Steve since elementary school. I’ve been friends with Steve since elementary school.” Carol looked at you pointedly. “He is head over heels for you, girl.”

“He just cares about me because I’m carrying his baby. It’s nothing more than that.”

“Tell yourself that if you want,” she shrugged.

You tried to push her words out of your head as you finished getting ready for the party. They were still lingering in your head when you walked into Steve’s large immaculate living room, to a room full of people you loved and some you vaguely knew.

You weren’t usually one to be the center of attention. You’d spent most of your life flying under the radar, not drawing any extra attention to yourself. But the baby shower was like having a spotlight on you, everyone looking at you and your belly and knowing how you got here. Even if they didn’t know the Nancy part, everyone here knew you and Steve were teen parents after a hookup and weren’t even together.

You happily helped yourself to the food, however. Your and Steve’s moms, with the help of Carol, had really outdone themselves. It was the fanciest baby shower you’d ever seen.

There was a beautiful rocking chair with a bow on it by the gift table. You wiped tears away as you removed it and sat down in the chair with Steve beside you. Carol began bringing you gifts, opening one after another of baby clothes and diapers and supplies you had been panicked about being able to afford. It only made you cry harder.

“There’s one more,” Steve said after you opened the last gift. The whole room of people watched intently, which made you uncomfortable, but Steve always made you feel like you were the only two people in the world.

He moved to the table and grabbed a card. It was tucked neatly in a dark green envelope, and it was thick, like there was something inside. You looked at Steve curiously. “What is this?”

“You have to open it and see,” he laughed.

You gave him a playfully cautious look before you started to break the seal on the envelope. You pulled out a pink card decorated with baby rattles and diapers and cribs. Slowly you opened it, and your jaw dropped.

There was a key taped inside. And on the other side, written in Steve’s messy scrawl:

My gift to you. Thank you for everything you do. You are my best friend and you are going to be the best mom this world has ever seen. I can’t wait to watch it happen.

Welcome home.

The tears were falling freely now. “Steve- is this-?”

“The key to our new apartment,” he finished for you. “I’ve been looking for months and I finally found one we can afford that looks incredible. Two bedrooms. A place for us to make our own.”

“Steve-“ you cried, but it was barely audible through the tears. You weren’t even thinking about how there was a room full of people watching you cry. “You shouldn’t-“

“What, shouldn’t have gotten us a place to live together like a real family?” He chuckled. “Let yourself be happy, sweetheart. You deserve this.”

The whole room of people were watching, some tearing up at the affectionate display. Steve must have been saving up for this since he got the job with his dad, not spending a single cent on anything for himself. His selflessness never ceased to amaze you, even though you should be used to it by now.

The baby shower was a huge success. You got everything you needed. You were in tears by the time the party was over, giving everyone a hug and all your gratitude as they left. When the guests were gone, you were left alone with Steve and both of your parents.

“You have until this weekend to move out,” Mr. Harrington said to Steve. “I’m not supporting you with a kid on the way.”

The whole vibe in the room shifted. What was once full of joy and happiness was now awkward and stilted. Mr. Harrington had brought the mood down once again.

“You know,” your mother said, “I think you should be proud of them. Sure, they got themselves into a mess, but look at them.” She looked at Steve with a smile, then at you with so much emotion in her eyes. “They’re doing great for themselves. Graduated, a good job, an apartment. They’re going to be okay. I believe in them.”

No one said anything at first. Your mom wrapped her arm around you, pulling you close like she often did when you were half her height. Finally, Mr. Harrington cleared his throat.

“Well. Isn’t that sweet. And naive.”

He turned and left before anyone could say anything else. You could tell your mom was pissed - she wasn’t one to be walked over. But for your sake, she didn’t push it.

“I…” Mrs Harrington began. “I’m…sorry, about him.”

Her words caught you off guard. Even Steve was surprised. He’d never heard her speak against his father before. She pulled Steve into a hug, holding him tight.

“I’m proud of you, son. You’re going to be a great father.”

Steve held her back, the emotions in the room now even more heightened, but not in the way they had been before Steve’s father left. This was better. This was love.

Steve held you tightly when you were on the way out the door with your parents. “I’ll come pick you up this weekend and we’ll move. Well, I’ll move. You can sit and look pretty while telling me where things go.”

Pretty?

“Okay,” you giggled, ignoring that part of what he said. “Bye, Steve.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

—

Saturday, it was moving time. Just about everyone was pitching in to help - Steve’s mom, your parents, Tommy and Carol. Steve and Tommy carried the couch in and sat it in the living room, and that became your command center for the rest of the day.

You sat down, aching feet up on the coffee table they brought in shortly after. You watched the bustle around you as everyone carried box after box, furniture after furniture. Steve and Tommy got into an argument trying to get the bed frame into the bedroom door, until your dad came over and showed them how to turn it.

After the main furniture was up, you were able to get up and start decorating. You had been longing to nest, body itching to get ready for the baby. It was instinctual, all you could think about was preparing for this baby.

Everyone brought in the boxes from the baby shower. You set up in the nursery with Carol while everyone else finished up.

“We’re getting Steve and Tommy to figure this out,” Carol said, examining the crib manual with her nose scrunched up. “Because I have no fucking idea what this is telling me to do.”

When the rest of the furniture and boxes were moved, your parents began unpacking them while Tommy and Steve joined you and Carol.

“What is this, fuckin’, physics?” Tommy said, the instructions in his hands now. Steve snatched them from him.

“Let me see.”

An hour later and the crib still wasn’t finished, Steve and Tommy arguing every two seconds. You and Carol were opening the baby shower gifts and finding them a place in the room.

“I can’t believe how tiny these clothes are,” Carol gushed, holding them up and looking at them with heart eyes. “I want one.”

“Uh, you can forget about that one,” Tommy said.

You had asked for books instead of cards from your guests, so you had a large selection of baby books you slid onto the wall shelf. Carol cut the tags off the baby clothes and fit them onto the tiny hangers, folding the ones that went in the drawers.

When you were done, it looked like a proper nursery. The dark brown crib had a sheet on it, a personalized blanket hanging over the side. The books and clothes were put away. The stroller was in the closet, car seat ready to be installed in Steve’s car. There was a bouncer and baby swing, a collection of breastfeeding supplies, a changing table and plenty of diapers to get you started.

“Not long now,” Steve said when you were left alone in the apartment, standing in the nursery together and looking at what you’d done together. He rubbed his hand over your large belly, feeling Ellie kicking him. He smiled. He was happy.

—

“Oh my god,” Carol said, holding up a tiny frilly dress. “This is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The cashier gave her a disapproving look.

“There’s so many clothes,” you said, running your hand through the rack. “Will she need a lot of clothes?”

“Oh, yeah,” Carol said. “My little brother went through like, 5 outfits a day. Poop and throw up and all that.”

“Ugh.” You both laughed, browsing the store’s selection. There were way more baby girl clothes than baby boy clothes. But you thought about the future - maybe you’d be back one day shopping for a baby boy.

“Oh my god, look at this!” She held up another pink dress, a white bow around it. “You have to get this one. Ellie’s going to look so cute.”

The dress was extremely cute. You took it from Carol’s hands. You put it in your basket - she was right, Ellie had to have it. 

You were just looking at another section of clothes when you felt a gush between your legs.

You gasped. “Carol-!”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my god. Did what I think just happened just happen?”

“I-I think so,” you said. “But it’s early. It’s too early.”

“You’re 35 weeks right??”

“Yes.” You bent over as a strong contraction wracked through your body. You breathed out a rush of air, groaning as you held onto the rack with one hand and your belly with the other.

That’s when you noticed the blood. A lot of it.

The cashier came rushing over to you. “Ma’am? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

You nodded, words unable to come with the amount of pain you were in, the fear struck deep into your chest. Carol was panicking.

The woman ran back to the phone and called 911, while Carol helped you find a place to sit. You sat on the chair, but quickly realized that wasn’t helping at all. You stood and began pacing, doing your breathing exercises like you’d learned in class. Tears streamed down your face, not from the pain, but from the pure horror, the fear that your baby wouldn’t be okay.

When the paramedics arrived, they got you on the stretcher immediately and prepared to rush you to the hospital. Carol jumped in the back with you, holding your hand.

“Hey. You’re doing great. You’re doing so good. Everything’s gonna be okay. We’ll call Steve at the hospital, okay? Then he’ll be there and the doctors can help you and everything will be fine.” Carol was rambling, her hand shaking in yours.

At the hospital you were brought upstairs immediately, changed into a gown and hooked up to monitors. Your blood pressure was still high and you were still

bleeding. They rushed an ultrasound machine into the room, beginning the exam as Carol called Steve.

“Steve?” Carol said into the phone. “She- she’s in labor. Yes, I’m sure. We know it’s early. There’s…there’s a lot of blood. We’re already at the hospital. Okay. By-“ She put the phone down. “He’s on his way. He hung up on me.”

Carol was helping you through your breathing exercises, trying to keep you calm as much as she could. You could tell she was freaked out, but she was being a good friend. The best, really.

The doctors finished their exam and determined you had experienced placental abruption.

“This is very, very serious,” the doctor said. “We’re going to prepare you for a C-section now.”

You didn’t want that. You didn’t want any of this. You had spent so long preparing for birth, preparing your pain management exercises and everything for the natural birth of your dreams. But anything to give Ellie the best chance of survival. You were getting woozy from the blood loss.

“Wait,” you said weakly as they put a cap over your hair and prepared to rush you to the OR. “Steve-“

“We have to take you for surgery right now,” one of the nurses said. “I don’t want to alarm you, but this is very serious. We can’t wait for anyone.”

You started crying again. None of this was happening the way you’d hoped. As they wheeled you out into the hall, you heard footsteps running down the hall. You turned your head, relieved to see a panicked Steve rushing to your side, still dressed in his nice clothes from work.

“I’m here,” he said, grabbing your hand. “I’m here.”

“Sir, we’re taking her for an emergency C-section right now,” the nurse said. “Someone will get you some scrubs and you can meet us in there.”

Steve reluctantly watched them take you, feeling helpless as he was left behind.

You were still out of it as they brought you into the freezing cold operating room, moving you onto the metal table covered in a sheet. There was a curtain separating your chest from the rest of your body, preventing you from seeing what was going on.

They put an oxygen mask on you and administered medication into your IV. It wasn’t long before you couldn’t feel anything below your arms anymore. Your vision was hazy, and all of a sudden you weren’t worried about anything anymore.

Steve rushed into the room dressed in hospital scrubs with a hair cap matching yours. The fear in his eyes was evident, and they were red as if he’d been crying. “Sweetheart,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead and holding your hand. “I’m here. Everything is gonna be okay. The doctors are gonna help you and Ellie is gonna be here in our arms soon, healthy and beautiful.” It wasn’t clear who he was trying to convince.

You were out of it, not feeling a thing as they made the incision. Steve was freaking out, his hand shaking where it held one of yours that was strapped down. It felt like it was only seconds before the sound of crying filled the room.

Steve huffed a disbelieving breath, a smile on his face as he cried and looked at the tiny little baby with complete awe. The nurses cleaned her up, checking her out to make sure she was okay. She was so tiny, wiggling and crying. You had never seen something so small, so delicate.

The nurse wrapped her in a hospital blanket, putting a soft cap on her head full of brown hair. She brought her over to you and Steve as the doctors continued working on you, trying to stop the bleeding unbeknownst to you.

Steve took her from the nurse’s arms with all the gentleness of a brand new dad. He was shaking as he pushed the blanket down slightly to uncover her angelic face. Her eyes were closed, content in her father’s arms. He leaned over and held her down for you to see.

“Look,” Steve said gently. “Look what we did.”

You couldn’t stop the tears as you saw your daughter for the first time. She was perfect. Chubby little cheeks, pouty lips, button nose. She looked like the perfect mix of you and Steve.

“Hi, Ellie,” you whispered, your voice weak. “You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Steve chuckled, a tear escaping from his eye and rolling down his cheek. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Perfect.”

—

Elizabeth Louise Harrington was born healthy, 6 lbs 7 oz. She only needed a short time in the nicu before they discharged her. You spent every waking moment in a wheelchair by her bassinet, holding and rocking her, taking turns with Steve, who was there the second he got off work.

Your mom was the first one to visit. She had hurried to the hospital as soon as Carol called her to tell her what had happened. She cried, a lot. But when she held her granddaughter in her arms, everything in the world was right.

Your dad came after work, smiling down at the tiny bundle in his wife’s arms. He put a hand on your shoulder, and looked at Steve. “You did good, kids.”

Steve’s mom was there shortly after. She cooed at the tiny baby, walking around the room and rocking her like a total natural. It may have been 18 years since she’d done this, but her instinct never left. His father never came.

That evening, once both of your parents had left, Tommy and Carol came over. “Oh my goddd!” Carol squealed quietly, coming over to you with her arms outstretched. “Let Auntie Carol see that perfect baby.”

Carol sat next to you on the bed as you handed the baby to her. She was so gentle as she took Ellie into her arms, bouncing her softly and cooing. “Look at you, pretty girl. Gonna be just as beautiful as your mama.”

Tommy took a seat on the room’s couch next to Steve. “Congrats, man,” he said, slapping Steve on the back.

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly.

“How do you like being a dad?”

Steve looked over at you, Ellie, and Carol on the bed, and he smiled. His chest felt warm and fuzzy, his heart soaring. “It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

They let you both go home from the hospital a week later. Steve took a week off of work to help you out, but that’s all his dad was willing to give him. You tucked Ellie safely into her car seat, buckling her in safely. Steve was so paranoid about hurting her.

The nurse pushed you out of the hospital in a wheelchair while Steve carried the baby carrier to his car. He hooked it into the backseat, and helped you climb into the back next to her. You weren’t ready to let her ride back there alone yet.

Steve drove home at a snail’s pace. The other cars on the road honked at you, but Steve didn’t care. All he cared about was getting his girls home safely.

He carried the carrier in one hand while he helped you walk your sore body into the apartment with his other. He got you comfortable on the couch before taking a sleeping Ellie out of her seat. He bounced her gently as he walked around the room.

It was so strange to be here, in this home, with your family. Your family, the one you created. Steve, and the baby girl you’d created together.

Only you and Steve weren’t together.

Steve hadn’t talked about girls at all since you’d been pregnant. You had taken his full attention. But what about when he decided he wanted to date again? How would you handle that? The thought filled you with dread.

Because you were starting to feel something for Steve that scared you.

You spent the first week home on the couch mostly. Steve brought you everything you needed, while helping you move a little more each day. You were still so sore from surgery, but you were determined to be ready to care for Ellie on your own when Steve went back to work.

Steve’s first diaper change had been an experience. He gagged, being dramatic as hell while you watched on and laughed. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, bud.”

“This is foul. How does such a tiny little thing poop so much?”

You had a newborn photo shoot scheduled 2 weeks after you came home. You dressed Ellie in a tiny dress, you and Steve dressing in matching nice clothes.

“Okay, mom and dad,” the photographer said. “Why don’t you get close and hold her between you?”

Steve moved close to you, holding Ellie between your bodies. The sleeping newborn cradled perfectly in your arms together, the photos were taken. You had chills at the proximity. You found that you liked being close to Steve. You liked it a lot.

That night, you got Ellie settled and laid her down in her crib. You were exhausted, as you always were these days. “I’m ready for bed,” you told Steve, yawning big.

“Me too,” he said. “Go on and get ready and I’ll be in soon.”

Since the apartment only had two bedrooms, you and Steve had agreed to share the bed. It was purely platonic, of course, even though you often woke up with Steve’s arm wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck as he snored lightly. You never moved him when that happened.

After you’d had a shower and gotten in bed, Steve came and did the same before joining you. You both drifted off to sleep so fast, as you always did these days.

It was 3am when you were woken by the baby monitor. You picked it up, seeing Ellie fussing. You sighed - you never minded taking care of her, but you were just so tired tonight. You were getting up when Steve stopped you.

“I got it,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “You go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You have work tomorrow.”

“I’m sure. Get some rest, please.”

You watched Steve leave, wondering how you got so lucky.

Steve went into the nursery, scooping a crying Ellie from her crib. “Hi, baby girl,” he said quietly. “Are you hungry? Let’s go warm you up a bottle.”

You had a supply of pumped milk so Steve could feed her, too. He went into the kitchen with the baby in his arms, making the bottle one handed like a pro. He settled into the recliner and rocked as he fed the bottle to Ellie, who was snuggled against his shirtless chest.

He was so sleepy, but he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

A month into her life, Ellie started crying constantly. It was like there was nothing you could do to calm her. It broke your heart to see her so upset, like she was in pain. Steve was stressing out hard.

“What do we do??” he asked, pacing and running his hands through his hair. “What’s wrong with her? Why won’t she calm down?”

A trip to the doctor later, Ellie had a diagnosis of colic. You were basically told there was nothing you could do, it was just something that had to run its course. Nevertheless, you both put your all into trying to make her feel better. Making sure she burped well after eating, giving her gas drops, walking the hall with her at night for hours until she finally fell asleep. Steve never once complained. He was so devoted to his daughter, it made your chest ache with love.

Love.

One of those nights, when Ellie was 7 weeks old and after she had finally fallen asleep, you and Steve collapsed on the couch, exhausted. You laid your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around you.

“You okay?” he asked you quietly.

“Yeah,” you said. “What about you?”

“I’m good. I’m happy.” He smiled down at you. “I know this is hard, but I love being a dad. I love my girl. Both of my girls.”

There was that word again. Love.

“Steve,” you started, sitting up on the couch and turning to face him as you talked. “What do you want for your future?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“Like, what do you want? Where do you want to be?”

“I want to be right here,” he said easily.

“No, but, you know what I mean. For the future. Do you want to get married to someone? Have more kids?”

Steve smiled. “Definitely. I want a big family.”

“Yeah? Even after all this?” you laughed sleepily.

“Of course. I want like, six kids.”

“Jesus.”

Steve laughed. “And…I don’t want to marry ‘someone’.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You don’t want to get married?”

“No, I mean, of course I do.” He seemed flustered, something you didn’t see from him often. “I just…it’s someone in particular.”

Your heart sunk. Nancy, you thought. He had never gotten over her. He was still in love with Nancy.

“You. I want to marry you.”

You froze. You were sure you were just hearing things, going crazy from the lack of sleep and hearing the things you wanted to hear. He had not just said that. “What?” you said, the only thing you could think to say.

“I…” He leaned forward, placing his hand on the side of your face so you were looking at him. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

You gaped at him like an idiot. “Steve…”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…I’ve been waiting for the right moment for months, and I just-“

You cut him off by leaning forward and pressing your lips onto his.

Steve wasted no time in kissing you back, pulling you closer to him, closer and closer until you were straddling his lap as his arms wrapped around you and your lips worked together. You moaned against his lips, which drove Steve absolutely crazy.

He put his hands on your ass, grinding you against his lap. He was hard already, like he wanted you bad. Hell, you wanted him just as bad. He groaned into your mouth as your tongues started working together, his hands sliding up and down your body and feeling every part of you.

“God, you-“ he said, totally breathless and pupils blown wide in lust. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”

That was hard to believe, especially when he’d been so head over heels for Nancy, who in your mind was so much prettier and better than you. But you could tell he was telling the truth.

“I love you,” you said between kisses, finally saying the words that had been on the tip of your tongue for months and months. “I love you. I love you.”

Steve groaned and held you even closer, his erection pressing up against you. It made you impossibly wet, grinding down onto him. You’d only had sex the one time in your life, and you’d thought about it every day since it happened.

“Can I take you to the room?” Steve asked, his voice low as he toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Our room?”

“Yes,” you told him, wanting nothing more.

He lifted you up with little effort, carrying you into the bedroom while you wrapped your arms and legs around him. He carefully laid you down on the bed, careful of your stitches. He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor before crawling over you still in his pajama pants.

He kissed all over your neck, making you whine, pulling slightly on his hair which made him groan. His hands slowly slid beneath your shirt, pushing it up and up until he took it completely off. You immediately covered your body up with your arms.

“Baby…” Steve murmured. “What are you doing?”

“I just…” you let out a breath. “My body is a lot different than the last time you saw it.”

Steve looked almost hurt. “Baby. You are beautiful. You carried and birthed my child. You could not be any hotter to me.”

Steve’s words almost had you tearing up, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. You slowly lowered your arms, revealing your body to him. True to his word, Steve looked at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes.

He kissed all over your body, your stomach, your chest, your neck, your lips. He was worshipping your body, loving every single part of it. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

He started kissing down your body, down between your legs, but you stopped him. “I just want you,” you said, your voice coming out more whiney and pleading than you meant.

Steve smirked. He pulled your pants and panties off the rest of the way. “Well, you have me.”

He pushed his own pants and boxers down, his large election springing free. He was even more massive than you remembered from your drunken night together. It was intimidating.

Steve kissed you on the lips again, a slow, loving, sensual kiss. You felt his tip at your entrance as he rubbed it between your folds, getting his cock nice and wet. “Are you ready?” he asked you, so quiet. You nodded.

He pushed inside, the stretch taking your breath away. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he set a slow pace, his face buried in your neck as he groaned in pleasure. “Jesus,” he moaned. “You are so tight. Feels so good.”

“You’re…huge, Steve,” you whined, making him chuckle breathlessly.

“Is it okay? Is it too much? Should I stop?”

“No, no,” you said quickly. “Keep going. Please.”

Steve obeyed, rocking his hips into you at a slightly

faster pace. The old bed creaked lightly beneath your movements, the headboard knocking into the wall. “Fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “God. I’m not gonna last long. It’s been so long, and you feel like heaven. My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Oh, Steve,” you moaned, back arching as he hit that bundle of nerves deep inside. “Feels good. Keep going just like that.”

He intertwined your fingers together above your head, his left hand holding onto your hip. He thrusted into you faster, faster, faster, making the hottest, most sinful noises as he neared release.

“I’m getting close,” he said, hips snapping against you. “Oh, fuck.” He readjusted so he had a hand to lean on while the other dipped between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

“Oh!” you moaned at the sudden feeling, pussy clenching around Steve’s cock and making him let out the most pathetic whimper.

“Jesus- Jesus Christ,” he said, breathless. “You’re killin’ me.”

“I’m really close, Steve,” you whined, writhing under him. “Really close.”

“Go ahead and cum for me, sweetheart,” he coaxed. “Let me feel it. Make a mess all on my cock for me.”

Your lips parted in a gasp, eyes rolling back as an orgasm crashed into you. Your pussy clenched around his cock tightly, and Steve cried out, his hips stuttering into you. The second you came down from your orgasm he pulled out, jerking his cock a couple times before he shot ropes of his cum all over your stomach and tits, groaning as he watched. He came so much, covering you in it.

He admired his work for a few seconds as he caught his breath. He had never seen anything hotter. When he was finally back to earth, he hopped off the bed and ran into the attached bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to clean you up. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“It’s okay,” you said with a giggle. “That was hot.”

Once you were cleaned up, he collapsed into the bed with you, both still naked. Wrapping his arm around you, he pulled you close into him, spooning you and snuggling his face into the back of your neck.

“I love you,” he said. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Steve. So much.”

—

Things found their version of normal eventually. It helped when you could start getting out of the house with Ellie, just getting some fresh air and seeing the outside world. Carol came over a lot, so it wasn’t like you had been totally lonely, but there’s nothing like going out in public.

Ellie was 5 months old. You and Steve had been officially together for 4ish months, and it was going amazing. You had never been happier. You had driven yourself and Ellie to Bradley’s Big Buy on your own for the first time since her birth.

“You wanna ride in the cart?” you asked her, earning a big grin from the baby even though she had no idea what you’d said. You settled her into the front of the cart - taking the time to disinfect it with wipes first. Ellie held onto the bar as you pushed her into the store.

Bread…milk…pasta…dish soap…diapers.

You began grabbing the things you needed, Ellie totally amazed at the world around her. It was adorable to see. But just as you grabbed the bread and were about to leave the aisle, you nearly bumped into someone.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you said. “I didn’t-“

Nancy.

You froze, just staring at her. She looked different. She had a perm now, and it really suited her. She looked beautiful as she always did.

“It’s…it’s okay,” she said, her eyes roaming to Ellie in the cart. Ellie smiled big at her, and Nancy couldn’t help but return it.

“How…how have you been?” you asked her, unsure if she wanted to talk to you at all.

“Oh. I’ve been good. I got a job at the newspaper. Me and Jonathan just got an apartment together.” She smiled gently.

“That’s great,” you said, and you meant it. You were happy to see her doing well, to see her happy. “I’m glad things are going well for you.”

“Yeah,” she said. “How- how are you?”

You were surprised she asked. “I’m doing well. Recovered from surgery now and everything. Ellie’s doing fantastic.”

“I’m really happy to hear that,” she said, and she seemed genuine. “I heard it was a rough birth.”

“Yeah.” Ellie reached for you, and you grabbed her hand, letting her wrap her tiny fingers around yours. “But, you know, it was worth it. To have her.”

Nancy nodded. “I’m sure.” A pause. “How’s Steve?”

“He’s great. Working for his dad now.” You debated whether to continue. “We, uh…we’ve been together for about 4 months now.”

“Oh,” she said. She didn’t seem upset, like she had expected that. “I’m happy for you both. Steve’s…he’s a good guy.”

You smiled. “Yeah. He is.”

There was a moment of silence between you before Nancy shook her head. “Well. I need to get going, I’m just picking up lunch for the staff. It was…it was good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Nance.”

She gave you a polite smile before pushing her cart off. You watched her go, her curly hair disappearing into another aisle.

You weren’t sure what to make of the interaction. She certainly didn’t seem like she hated you anymore. But you knew you would never be friends again, and that part broke your heart.

Maybe there was progress to be made.

—

Life with Steve and Ellie was wonderful. Steve was an amazing dad- the best. He was also an amazing boyfriend. He made you feel loved and cherished, safe and cared for.

He worked with Ellie every day, first down on the floor with her for tummy time, then once she mastered that and grew older, he did his best to teach her how to crawl.

“You know, I crawled backwards as a baby,” he said randomly one day.

“Huh?”

“It’s true,” he said. “I just…” He held his hands up and mimicked crawling backwards.

You laughed hard. “That is so Steve.”

“What does that mean??”

At Christmas, he went all out. He spoiled her as much as he could afford, even though he knew she wouldn’t remember a thing about it or even understand it. Christmas day Steve was the one to wake you up bright and early- “It’s Christmas!!!”

You drank some coffee, taking pictures while Steve sat on the floor with Ellie, helping her open her presents. She was delighted with everything she opened, and you and Steve had a blast watching her enjoy Christmas.

Her first birthday party was a whole occasion, too. It was at the Harrington’s, since they had so much space. Even Steve’s dad softened in the presence of Ellie Harrington. Steve cried when everyone sang her happy birthday.

When you had been together for a year, Steve asked your mom to babysit so he could take you out for dinner to celebrate your anniversary. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going, but told you to dress fancy.

You wore a red dress that hugged your curves in the most perfect way. Steve nearly started drooling when he saw you. But you felt the same way about him, dressed up nice.

He took you to Enzo’s, a place you’d never been. “Get anything you want,” he said. “I don’t want you to worry about the price tonight.”

You tried your best to ignore the exorbitant prices as you scanned the menu, eventually deciding on a chicken alfredo. The food was delicious, you practically moaned when you took your first bite.

“I would order us some wine, but I get the feeling they won’t fall for my fake ID here,” Steve said, making you laugh. You drank sparkling water instead, still in the fancy spirit.

After dinner you shared a piece of chocolate cake. You speared a bite onto your fork and held it out to Steve, who happily opened his mouth to let you feed it to him before he did the same to you. You giggled, feeling both very grown up and also like a couple of kids.

After you finished dessert, you were full. You were ready to get the check and head home back to Ellie when Steve spoke up, saying your name.

“Baby,” he said. “I…I wanted to ask you something.”

You looked at him curiously. “What is it?”

He reached into his pocket, then stood. When he got down on one knee, you gasped, covering your mouth with your hands, the tears falling already.

He said your full name, looking deep into your eyes as he opened the box, revealing the most beautiful diamond ring you’d ever laid eyes on. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes! Oh my god, yes yes yes.”

Steve smiled as he slipped the ring onto your finger - a perfect fit. He stood and pulled you into a kiss as the entire restaurant clapped for you - a literal dream come true.

Forever with the love of your life.

Stay tuned for the sequel baby daddy series!!

tag list

@crispystarfishhottub @luveediary @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @melaninjhs @talkativecarnation @cherrypieyourface @lanalosty0uu @rubythornexxx @meeuhsworld

[darling-flora]

feather

max x yn!singer - social media au

fc: sabrina carpenter

part 2 : HERE

notes: im sorry callum turner for making you the bad guy please forgive me 🤞 also in this world dua lipa is not a famous singer 👍 my first max smau let me know what ya think !!! ❣ rt's are appreciated !!!

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enews

Liked by user1, user2 and 2,869,944 others

enews Y/n L/n and Callum Turner seem to of called it quits after two years of dating, only a day after Callum Turner was seen making out with mystery woman. Turner was seen with the woman the following day while L/n was seen at the airport headed for Monaco to visit friend Taylor Zakhar Perez who is filming a movie. ➡️

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enews Y/n L/n was reportedly sent picture of Turner and the mystery woman (Now identified as Dua Lipa) by friends and L/n reportedly packed all her belonging and had them sent to Monaco to stay with a friend. ➡

↳enews NEW INFORMATION !!! Callum and Dua were reportedly hooking up before Y/n L/n started dating Turner and after they made it official Turner broke things off with Dua Lipa ➡ ↳enews Dua Lipa was upset by the split and "she resented y/n for being with Callum, so when Callum was at a party that Dua was also at, she made it her mission to win him back"

user2 the fact that dua likes y/n's posts and has publicly complimented y/n's music..... im sick to my stomach for her omg

user3 he is actually so dumb for cheating on her for 1 but also CHEATING ON A SINGER SONGWRITER ??????

user4 emails i cant send deluxe & the next album is gonna go CRAZYYYY

user5 he never really seemed to give the same energy she gave....

user6 going to a different country after a break up is kinda real

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yourinstagram

Liked by taylorzakharperez, user1 and 9,559,944 others

yourinstagram It would be sooooo crazy if i moved to France 🤭

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user1 ITS BEEN A LIKE 2 MONTHS BABE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?????

taylorzakharperez It's nice in Nice France 🤭

liked by yourinstagram

user2 MOVED TO FRANCE ???

whitneypeak an angel 😇

liked by yourinstagram

user3 making more songs to add to the album of the century ??

jennaortega pretty pretty pretty face 😍

liked by yourinstagram

user4 "Big is moving to paris" but it's "y/n' is moving to france"

user5 doing hot girl sh't !!

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dualipa

Liked by user1, user2 and 459,944 others

dualipa he’s sooooooo crazy in love with my brown eyes 💌

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user1 this just pissed me off

user2 the letter emoji..... yall need to hold me back

user3 you really thought you ate this....

user4 the caption ? stream obsessed by olivia rodrigo

user5 he also loved her blue eyes girl, you are not special

user6 right..... anyways

comments have been limited

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yourinstagram

Liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 10,559,944 others

yourinstagram I love Monaco nights, mornings in France with my babies Benny and Björn + a cute date night 🤍

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user1 HUH DATE ????

user2 shes on a date with me btw !!!

user3 the sheer white dress is eatttiinnngggg

user4 oh mother

user5 don't know if i wanna be you or with you ???

user6 y/n stays 🔛🔝 !!!

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deuxmoi

Liked by user1, user2 and 959,944 others

deuxmoi Y/n L/n a popstar who has moved recently to Nice, France after a messy break up. While the singer's been fairly private about the outings, she has been spotted around Nice and Monaco on dates with a popular athlete.

Who do we think think the singer is seeing ?

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user1 pics ???? proof???

↳user2 i know someone that works at a place they got dinner at but they didn't see who she was with, but she left with a bouquet of flowers soooo she could be with someone but we don't know who 🤷‍♂️

user3 its an f1 driver because they are coming off break soon....

user4 i think its max verstappen, like two weeks after they were at the same party his posts on insta changed..... like for the better yk the past few months his posts have been eatingggg

↳user5 not the girlfriend effect having an effect on his insta 😭

user6 i wont believe it till is see it 🤷‍♀️

user7 both max and charles are in her likes so who knows ??

user8 deuxmoi could be LYINGGGGG but we'll see....

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yourinstagram

Liked by taylorzakharperez, maxverstappen and 7,559,944 others

yourinstagram im so sorry for your loss... ❤😊

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user1 the "the kind of girlfriend God gives you young, so you'll know loss the rest of your life" tee is so cvnty omfg 🤭

user2 LYRICS ???? THE 3RD PIC ???

user3 there are so many layers to the first and last pic

francisca.cgomes cuties ❤

↳yourinstagram allllll you 😘

user4 face economy mama !!!!

user5 in love with youuuuuu

user6 soft launchhhhh 🤭

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maxverstappen Close Friends story

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charles_leclerc ??????

maxverstappen what ?

charles_leclerc nothing.... 😏

landonorris maxjpg when ?

maxverstappen i could consider it 🤔

yourinstagram we have 4 children....

maxverstappen it's a full time job 😭 maxverstappen quitting racing to become a stay at home dad maxverstappen a chubby stay at home dad

yourinstagram i fully support that 😊 yourinstagram a happy max is all i want!!

maxverstappen god i love you maxverstappen wanna go on a boat ?

yourinstagram love youuuuu 🤭 yourinstagram yes !!!! mr rich man lets go 🌊

maxverstappen you are also rich....

yourinstagram well.....

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max1.jpg

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 10 others

max1.jpg my jpg account is going to end up being a y/n fan page

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landonorris bros down bad

↳charles_leclerc Down tremendously ↳max1.jpg im not ashamed to admit it 🤷‍♂️

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YnLnUpdates

Liked by username1, username2 and 869,944 others

YnLnUpdates In a recent interview Y/n CONFIRMS EMICS Deluex Emails i cant send fwd: Out March 30th !!!! talks about moving to france, traveling and confirms she's in a relationship !!

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user1 her saying her cats are the most important stamp of approval.... she is so unserious i love her

user2 “Or someone was holding you back ?” the interview kinda ate with that 🤭

user3 i guess deuxmoi was right....

user4 her smile when she was talking about him 🥰 !!!!

user5 but who is he mama 🙄

user6 i mean we knew that, i just wanna know who he is 😫

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maxverstappen story

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yourinstagram no one will ever know i took these pictures 🤭

maxverstappen i regret to inform you my love, but people are already making speculations....

yourinstagram HUH ???? yourinstagram FROM WHAT ???

maxverstappen no clue honestly maxverstappen maybe the vibes of the pictures

yourinstagram really max... yourinstagram the "vibes"

maxverstappen yeah, they have "my girlfriend took these pictures and wanted to post them but because no one knows we’re dating she cant post them, so she posted them on my story instead” vibes

yourinstagram i didn't know that was a vibe that could exist

maxverstappen it is !! maxverstappen and those pictures have them

yourinstagram cant stand you sometimes...

maxverstappen sure 🤥 maxverstappen you on your way ?

yourinstagram leaving soon..... 🫣

maxverstappen cant wait to see your face 😘

yourinstagram 😭🫶 yourinstagram stoppp your cute 🤭 yourinstagram omw 🏎️💨

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yourinstagram

Liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 10,559,944 others

yourinstagram emails i can’t send fwd: is out now 💌 so is the feather music video !!!!! I’m very excited about these new songs and i hope u are too x love you all so much💗 tell me ya favorite part of the video!!

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user1 the way men never survive your music videos is so iconic

arianagrande wow wow wow the most talented girl !!! 🤍

↳yourinstagram ty ty !!! 😭❤

user2 things i wish you said and opposite HURT my feelings

whitneypeak HOTTIE !!!!!

liked by yourinstagram

user3 album of the century 😁

jennaortega ATEEEEEEE ❣

liked by yourinstagram

user4 feather is your next pop hit TRUST 🤞

user5 MOTHER 🤩

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MV1Updates

Liked by username1, username2 and 569,944 others

MV1Updates During a Pre-Season testing interview when asked how his break Max causally mentioned he has a girlfriend !!

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user1 them giggling 😭

user2 of course this is how we find out he's got a gf 😭

user3 you missed were he said "I talk about her so much it just slipped out"

↳user4 stop thats so cute omg 😭 ↳user5 when they are "public public" he's gonna talk about her every interview i just know it

user6 but who is it ????

user7 "i did? oh shit" is KILLING MEEEE

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maxverstappen1

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,201,933 others

maxverstappen1 P2 today 👊 A bit unlucky with the safety car but nevertheless, learned a lot and another One-Two finish. This is a very good team result here in Baku redbullracing SChecoPerez 💪

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user1 good race king !!!

yourinstagram i can feel a win coming in Miami !!

↳user2 Y/N ???? ↳user3 IS SHE GOING TO THE RACE ??? ↳user4 shes gonna perform in Orlando so i wouldn't be surprised if she went to the race !! ↳maxverstappen1 only Miami 😔 ? ↳yourinstagram is it to soon to say you'll win every race ? ↳maxverstappen1 Nope !! That sounds perfect !!! ↳user5 the flirting is gonna kill me ↳user6 chat is this flirting ????

user7 keep your head up 🦁👑

user8 MY GOAT

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YnLnUpdates

Liked by user1, user2 and 1,869,944 others

YnLnUpdates Y/n's speech after singing a cover of "Hopelessly Devoted To You". "What a pleasure it is to here today, I feel so lucky to be here in front of all you beautiful people. There have been so many changes in my life recently that have been a blessing in disguise, so i wanna say a huge thank you for sticking by me I'm looking forward to all the good to com, so thank you for everything love you" after the speech then pointed towards the vip tent; waved and then made a heart !!!

Who do we think the heart is for ? 👀

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user1 WHAT ????

user2 there were so many people in the vip tent we'll never know 😩

user3 seeing her happy after the last few months makes me so happy

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YnLnUpdates

Liked by user1, user2 and 1,869,944 others

YnLnUpdates Y/n and Max Verstappen (HUH?????) share an embrace after Y/n's performance in Orlando !

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user1 WHAT ????

user2 the emoji 😭

user3 now we know who the heart was for 😮

user4 WHO KNEW HE HAD IT IN HIM ???

user5 NOOOOOOOOOOO

user6 wait this is actually CRAZY ???

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yourinstagram

Liked by taylorzakharperez, maxverstappen and 8,559,944 others

yourinstagram ORLANDO !!!! The biggest festival I've had the pleasure of performing at and the energy was insane !!!! The first time I got to perform songs from the deluxe and to hear you guys sing every word was a special moment 😪 THANK YOUUUU all for the love , love love love you alllll ❤

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user1 the popstar levels are out of this world 🌎

user2 YOUR MAN IN MAX ????

maxverstappen What a show😘!!!

↳yourinstagram thank you thank you 😊 ↳user3 this is still crazy 😭

user4 you KILLED it !!!

user5 the best performance i've got to go too EVER

user6 it was an honor to see your face on the big screen 🧎‍♀️

user7 NEED more songs like feather !! such a good song live 😫

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YnLnUpdates

Liked by user1, user2 and 869,944 others

YnLnUpdates Y/n's recent instagram stories!!

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user1 STOPPPP😭😭 they are so cute

user2 the cat.... he's so real

user3 #NEEDTHAT is CRAZZZYYYY (same)

user4 "who's this diva" oh she loves that man... 🥰

user5 crying watching max win is what i do too !!

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MV1Updates

Liked by username1, username2 and 569,944 others

MV1Updates During Max's post race interview, Max was asked what it was like have Y/n L/n in attendance "It's nice to have her at a race, I've wanted her at a race for a while and our schedules finally lined up, [....] hopefully she'll come to more, [....] it gives me extra motivation to win, I wanted to impress her (laughs)."

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user1 he was sooooooo smiley talking about her omgggg 😫❤

user2 the way they giggle and blush when they talk about each other is so cute 🤭

user3 can't wait for they love songs !! he's so in love

use04r love this for him !!

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f1gossip

Liked by username1, username2 and 959,944 others

f1gossip Max Verstappen and popstar Y/n L/n were seen sharing a kiss while on a date in Miami after his win.

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user1 bro they've probably been together for MONTHS

user2 they are so cute together 😫

user3 LEAVE THEM ALONE 😭🙏

user4 that should be MEEE (with both of them 🤫)

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yourinstagram

Liked by taylorzakharperez, maxverstappen and 10,559,944 others

yourinstagram Orlando to Miami !!! and what a drive by max from P9 to P1 BABY so proud of you, can't wait to see you win again and again !!!! 🏆🥇🍾

(also if i see pictures of me CRYING during the podium TRUST you will hear from my lawyer).........

(kidding😙❤)

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user1 she's truly living my dream life

maxverstappen Are we gonna ignore how i told you that you were gonna cry and you called me a liar....

↳yourinstagram yes 😁 ↳maxverstappen I'm not gonna ignore that I was right ↳yourinstagram booking a different hotel room 🙄 ↳maxverstappen WAIT ↳maxverstappen I'm sorry ❤ ↳maxverstappen I'll make it up to you ↳yourinstagram 😏? ↳landonorris WHOAAAA get a room 🤢 ↳user2 ik they get DOWNNNNN

user3 this is kinda my superbowl ☺

whitneypeak living the life mama !!

liked by yourinstagram

user4 so pretty 🎀

lilymhe beautiful girl !! ☺

user5 max on the beach 😍

francisca.cgomes can max fight ? 😁

↳maxverstappen stop trying to steal my girlfriend.... ↳yourinstagram she already got me 😝

user6 max verstappen, i was not familiar with your game 😦

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maxverstappen1

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 8,201,933 others

maxverstappen1 Simply… lovely!

What a great time in Miami, I would like to point out I am looking at yourinstagram in the second picture 👍 Had to put on a show with her watching. 😁

But a very strong race 🙌

Thank you, Miami - You have been great🌴

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user1 MY GOAT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yourinstagram hot 🥵

↳yourinstagram gnawing at the bars of my enclosure 😩 ↳landonorris 🤮 ↳yourinstagram you always got something to say 😒

user2 STOPPPPP he's gonna talk about her every second.... i love it 😝

user3 i gotta know if y/n is the one helping with the pics...

↳yourinstagram only a little.... ↳yourinstagram he wants my stamp of approval on them ↳user3 i bet he likes it when you approve of all the pics ? ↳yourinstagram well yes 😗 ↳user3 someone likes praise...... 😁🤫

user4 he's really setting the standard!! obsessed boyfriend is just too good!

user5 the first pic 🤯 what a man

user6 i kinda need them both 🙂

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max1.jpg

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,335,690 others

max1.jpg best way to celebrate a win in miami is with you 🤍

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user1 im so single

yourinstagram love youuuuu 💞🌙💞

↳max1.jpg 😘😘

user2 BRO how did he bag Y/N L/N ?????

↳user3 he's a loverboy....

landonorris why don't you take pictures of me ?

↳max1.jpg you dont look like y/n and do what she does ↳landonorris okay i didn't need to know that.. ↳user4 😨😨 ↳user5 WAITTTTT HUHHHH????

user6 INSANE face card holyyyyyyyyyyy

user7 they are such cuties 🫶

user8 they’re truly the cutest couple 🥺

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part 2 : HERE

[foreid]

⊹₊ ⋆ ㅤ— “FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE . .ᐟᅟ ”

part 1 | part 2

wrd count: 1304

warnings: smut, fem!reader x josh, dry-humping, drinking, josh is a pervert, semi-plot, make out, drunk reader, smutty indications, aggressive teasing

a/n : my bi-monthly drop!!!! wrote this for my dear friend adri, and me :3 but also because i just finished until dawn and this sexy man is EVERYWHERE… will be writing more of him soon. stay tuned ! ;)

you knew your limits when it came to alcohol, what you could handle and what you couldn’t.

but joshua washington had to be the world's best sweet talker. because you’d convinced everyone at the lodge you’d be the most sober.

now you were the only one slurring out a random song with an empty bottle of expensive vodka wrapped around your perfectly jeweled up and manicured hand.

“jooooosssshhhhh…” you slurred to him, clinging onto his bicep that felt oddly larger than usual. all he could do was give that signature sexy laugh and shake his head at you.

he was gentle with you, still obviously teasing but not to an extent.

the boy knew you weren’t 100% yourself when you got this drunk.

“mhm, that’s my name.” he said to you, the two of you weren’t necessarily separated from the group, but you weren’t close enough to be in their conversations.

that was always the case when the two of you were together.

but to him, close was never close enough.

you were rubbing your face all on his flannel, cheek chubbying up and only looking up at him through your eyelids.

eyes big and full of drunken content.

to him, you were just so pretty vulnerable.

the way he was looking down at you was almost straight out of a cheap porno.

his wide eyes, now low and full of an extreme emotion that your weak brain couldn’t understand.

but you had an idea that it was what you were wearing, not to toot your own horn.

soft layers: a tight white tank top stacked with a hot pink zip-up that had fur on the hood and graphics on the back, your tight denim shorts and fleece tights that were meant to keep you warm, but anyone with a right mind knew they were just for show.

technically… you had packed more outfits like this for the trip, but that’s because you weren’t expecting the cabin to be so bitterly cold.

so it wasn’t really even your fault.

in reality, you were dressing this way on purpose.

okay maybe you were dressed like this because you loved the attention.

the peering looks he gave you anytime you walked by, the snarky comments that left his perfect mouth.

who were you to blame? look at that man.

“feelin’ clingy tonight, huh?” he taunted, laughing in your face at the way you were holding onto him and gawking.

“me—? clingy? y’r funny, washington…” all you could do was stutter and stumble on your words.

he made you nervous and you were so intoxicated you could barely think before speaking.

holding him like this made you imagine all the possibilities. all the things you could be doing to each other right now.

and it almost felt like he was thinking the same, like you were always riding on the same wavelength.

you know something else you could ride on.

it was stupid to imagine but there’s always been a tension between you two, so thick and palpable that it left you knees-weak every time he flirted with you.

“let’s just cut the bullshit. c’mon.” before you could even process that he was talking to you, a rough set of calluses were wrapped around your forearm, tugging you somewhere in the lodge that you couldn’t quite comprehend.

the second you heard a door close behind you two, you realized you were in the master bedroom,

only knowing this due to the sudden change of temperature in the room compared to the living room.

“wha- aren’t they gonna n— notice that we’re gone?” you were confused, but you trusted him.

despite the evident look of hunger and lust in his eyes. you trusted yourself in his hands.

“i don’t care. i just needed to get you alone.” his mouth made its way to your ear, slowly, as his warm breath came to touch with your skin,

your body froze up at the sudden attention, making you feel warm. “y/n. almost years i’ve been fantasizing about you, ever since we met,” he paused and cautiously reached for your hips.

his hands were warm and you felt safe, once you processed his words you became putty in them.

“huh?”

was all you could mutter out, keeping yourself in place by grabbing onto his triceps, looking up at him through your full and wispy eyelashes.

“i’m sayin’ i wanna fuck you, pornstar. your skin is so soft and warm. i wanna know,” he paused to straighten himself up and look at you.

“i wanna know what it feels like inside that pussy of yours.”

drunk, he was drunk this had to be the drinks talking. there was no way this was real.

even if he was intoxicated, that didn’t stop his words from going straight in between your legs. arousal pooling onto your lacy panties.

could’ve sworn your eyes started to roll back at the dirty talk, he was so good at it too.

“y’don’t mean that—“ he quickly cut you off, pulling you in nice and personal and grabbing at the plush skin that was covered by tight denim. “i do. with every fiber in me, i swear i do.”

the physical attention was overwhelming, and the verbal one was even more intense. you didn’t know what else to do but to give in to something you’ve been praying for for so long.

you couldn’t even suck in a breath before he was crashing his lips onto yours.

it was a kiss that made you dizzy, you melted into it though, wrapping yourself onto him.

he led you backwards, kissing you still while he was walking, pressing your back against whatever wall was close; stabilizing you with his knee between your legs.

you were holding onto the hair on the back of his head for dear life, loving the hot and messy kiss so much that it turned you on.

all the sexual frustration of not getting any in almost a year turned you into some horn dog.

your head was spinning, you could barely make out a thought. josh’s hand began to unzip your jacket, sliding it off your body while his lips started roaming down your neck.

“i ca— can’t take it,” a whine slipped out of your lips, head turned to face away from him to hide away your embarrassment.

this didn’t stop him though, you felt him smile against your skin and only itch on more.

rutting your hips for you against his clothed leg while he started sucking ravishingly against your neck, josh himself could barely keep himself from grinning at how much he’s won.

josh was the type for messy and quick sex. but when he thinks of having it with you, he wants it hard and slow.

painfully slow. so he can make you take in everything, make you feel everything all at once.

his fingers started sliding off the straps of your tight shirt, lips starting to make contact with the plush skin of your breasts.

“so fuckin’ sexy. just like i imagined. you g’nna let me give it to you? hm?” he was teasing, words muffled by the way he had his lips wrapped around your nipple.

“god i can’t wait to fill you up. gonna tell chris how good this pussy is.” josh snickered, grinning at the mess he was making of you.

and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

he brought himself up to bite on your ear, hands teasing your breasts as your hips (which had minds of their own) kept grinding on his knee, the friction making your brain go into mush.

your mind was completely blown, blank and empty.

fingers were digging and wrinkling up his flannel as your mouth was agape.

you were all hot and bothered, needing and yearning for more.

if you felt this good only from foreplay, imagine how good being so full of his dick was gonna be.

you couldn’t wait.

you were letting out noises you didn’t even know you could make,

and he was barely getting started.

[grapejuicenharry]

Angel

Harry and Y/N are best friends— except they have feelings for each other (4k words)

warnings : smut 18+, fluff, kissing, grinding, jealous h

read part 2 of angel here

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Harry really liked—no, loved—Y/N, but he would never admit it to her. She was his best friend, and he couldn’t imagine a day without her. She was like sunshine in his life, someone he could always rely on.

“Harry, my feet hurt,” Y/N whined beside him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glassy from one too many drinks. They were walking back from a party thrown by one of Harry’s friends, Alex. It was his birthday, and even though Harry and Y/N hadn’t planned to attend, today had been their last exam of the semester. That called for celebratory drinks after all the hard work they’d put in. Sleepless, stressful nights spent preparing for exams, completing assignments, and submitting papers—it had all been overwhelming, and tonight felt like the ideal way to finally blow off some steam.

“Didn’t I warn you about those heels?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice as he raised an eyebrow. He knew those heels always gave her trouble and told her to wear something more comfortable, but Y/N, being Y/N, never listened.

“Yeah, but they make me look sexy, and I wanted to be tall enough to at least reach your neck,” she replied absentmindedly.

“Well, guess that means I’m carrying you the rest of the way,” Harry said, and before she could protest, he hoisted her up onto his shoulders.

“Harry, my dress is too short! I’m going to flash everyone,” Y/N laughed, though there was no real concern in her voice.

Harry chuckled, placing his hand carefully to keep her covered. Besides, the streets were almost empty at 2 a.m., and there was hardly anyone around to notice.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Y/N met Harry on the first day of college. She was nervous and eager to make friends. Hurrying to her seat, she noticed Harry sitting next to her. The first thing she saw was his mop of curly hair, and she thought he was incredibly cute. He looked so innocent and nerdy in his black-rimmed glasses. He was just too adorable.

He wore a white T-shirt that highlighted his bulging biceps, with tattoos peeking through. Suddenly, Y/N found herself wanting to see every tattoo that adorned his beautiful body. She was so curious and lost in her thoughts about him that she didn’t realize Harry was, in fact, looking at her.

Harry thought he was dreaming as he looked at Y/N. She seemed like an angel, a beautiful one at that. She wore a cute white hoodie adorned with pink bows, and her curly hair framed her lovely face perfectly. What captivated him the most were her eyes; they were alluring, radiant, and a luminous shade of dark brown. Next were her luscious pink lips, so full and plump that he suddenly wanted to kiss them and taste them. He wondered if they tasted like berries or cherries, secretly hoping they tasted like cherries, his favorite fruit.

“Do you have an extra pen?” Y/N asked in a hushed voice. “I forgot to bring my pouch,” she added with a little pout.

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Harry replied, fixing his glasses, clearing his throat, and answering in a hoarse voice. He couldn’t believe she was actually talking to him.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Later that day, they sat together at lunch, talking as if hours had passed. Y/N was so grateful to have found someone as kind as Harry, who listened to every word she said with such intent. They chatted about random topics, like their favorite TV shows and ice cream flavors. When Harry revealed that his favorite flavor was mint chocolate chip, Y/N made a weird face.

“Shut up—no, don’t you dare say it!” Harry exclaimed, amused.

“But it tastes like toothpaste!” Y/N whined playfully.

“No, it does not!” Harry shot back. Y/N made a mental note to convince Harry to try every other flavor until he grew to hate mint chocolate chip.

They soon became inseparable—best friends. Harry didn’t realize just how much he had started to like Y/N until it was almost too late. He thought frequently about confessing his true feelings, but there never seemed to be the right moment. He cherished the friendship they had, and the thought of losing her terrified him to his core. So he kept those feelings hidden, bottled up, and accepted her as his best friend.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry set Y/N down on the couch when they reached her apartment. He kneeled down to take off her heels. “Ouch, slowly please,” YN whined.

“I am never letting you wear these stupid shoes again. Your feet are all red and swollen,” Harry countered, looking genuinely concerned. He hated seeing Y/N in pain. He wanted to protect her from everything and keep her safe in his cocoon—just him and Y/N.

He then carefully carried a sleepy Y/N to her bedroom and started looking for a comfortable shirt for her to wear. After finding a suitable shirt, he went to the bathroom to grab her makeup wipes and returned to find half-asleep Y/N lying on the bed. “Sweetheart, this will only take two minutes, I promise.” He began wiping her face gently.

After getting Y/N all ready for bed, Harry changed his own clothes. Y/N had “borrowed” too many of his shirts, but honestly, he never minded it. In fact, he secretly liked when Y/N wore his clothes. She looked breathtaking in his oversized shirt paired with her tiny shorts, which made Harry lose his mind.

“Come to bed and cuddle me; I need to sleep,” Y/N grumbled, rubbing her tired eyes.

“Coming, sweetheart, just two minutes,” Harry replied with a smile. He knew how grumpy Y/N got when she was sleepy. He quickly climbed into bed, set his glasses on the side table, and pulled her to his side. Cuddled next to him, Harry didn’t mind being the big spoon. He loved having Y/N molded to his side—the sweet scent of her hair, which smelled like strawberries on a sunny day, and the soft skin that felt like vanilla sundae. He adored every inch of her. Whenever he was with her, he felt like he was on cloud nine. Everything around him was rainbows and sunshine; she made everything look like it was through rose-tinted glasses.

But Harry also loved being the little spoon. There were days when he just wanted to be held, and honestly, Y/N loved having him like that—clingy, needy, like a cute little puppy.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

One day, Harry arrived at Y/N’s apartment looking extremely worn out. Y/N was lying on the bed, comfortably engrossed in her favorite novel. She grew concerned upon seeing Harry. 

“I am so exhausted, and my head hurts,” Harry exclaimed, throwing his bag on the floor. “I had to sit in Professor Martin’s class for two hours, plus I had a psychology presentation today,” he stated tiredly while rubbing his drowsy eyes behind his frames. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry you had such a long day, baby. Come on, lie down, and I’ll massage your head,” Y/N replied, removing the blanket from her lap. Harry immediately climbed onto the bed and dropped his head in Y/N’s lap. She carefully removed his glasses and placed them on the side table before starting to massage his head.

She threaded her fingers in his curls, scratching his head lightly, rubbing, and applying just the right amount of pressure. Harry let out a soft moan as he could already feel the tension melting away, his body instinctively relaxing further into her lap.

 “Feels amazing,” he murmured, his voice slightly muffled against her legs. 

As her skilled fingers glided over his scalp, working their magic and easing the stress that had built up after a long week. 

Y/N smiled, enjoying the way he melted under her touch. She varied her movements, alternating between gentle rubs and firmer pressure, focusing on the areas where he seemed to carry the most stress. Her fingers danced through his hair, and she leaned forward slightly to whisper, “You deserve this. Just relax.”

After what seemed like hours of massaging, Y/N realized Harry had fallen soundly asleep on her lap. His face looked peaceful, with his eyes closed and soft snores slipping through his pretty pouty lips. He looked so adorable, and Y/N couldn’t help but wish she could freeze time to savor this moment longer.

Knowing Harry would probably complain about his back in the morning, she gently shifted him, lifting his head from her lap and placing it on a pillow. His brows furrowed slightly, so she soothingly rubbed his forehead, trying to smooth away any lingering tension. Half asleep, Harry instinctively moved closer, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist and nuzzling his face against her boobs. His personal pillow: He always has the best sleep whenever she holds him. Y/N smiled down at him. His curls tickled her jaw, and she couldn't resist leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his head.

“Goodnight, sleepyhead,” Y/N whispered, smiling at Harry, who had already drifted back into a peaceful slumber.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry was never the jealous type—at least, not until Y/N came into his life. but right now he cant help but a bitter sensation rises up his throat when he sees yn with Jacob. A total douchebag who flirts with every girl in the college, Standing next to Y/N, too closely according to harry. Harry had come to find Y/N so they could grab tacos at their favorite spot, but instead, he’s witnessing this. Does Y/N like him? Does she have a crush on him that he doesn’t know about? What if Y/N is interested in him and wants to end her friendship with Harry? Will she forget about him? All these questions overwhelm Harry’s mind at the sight. No, no—Y/N was only his. His best friend, his angel, his sweetheart. She would never do something like this. His chest suddenly started burning at such thoughts. 

Jacob says something which makes Y/N burst into laughter. His chest tightens at the sight. He wants to be the only person to make yn laugh like that. He curses inwardly that jacob gets to experience the sweet melody of her laughter, her laugh that can instantly brighten up the room with warmth and sunshine. He thinks to himself, Does Jacob know her eyes crinkle whenever she laughs? or how the mole under her right eye disappears when she laughs because of the fullness of her cheeks? 

“Oi, whatchu looking at?” Y/N snapped her fingers in front of Harry’s face. He hadn’t realized she had come over and was talking to him. “You look like you could kill someone,” she teased, giggling as she spoke to him. 

“Was that Jacob talking to you?” Harry asked, trying to sound casual even though he was fuming inside. “Yeah, he wanted my chemistry notes because apparently he spilled coffee on his,” Y/N replied, wrapping her arm around Harry's as they walked together. 

“Did you give them to him?” Harry asked, mentally cursing Jacob and hoping she hadn’t. 

“No, obviously I know he just wanted an excuse to hit on me. I’m not dumb,” Y/N exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Besides, you know I don’t like sharing my notes with anyone except for you, because you know how to take care of them.” She chided and planted a kiss on Harry’s cheek. His face instantly heated. 

“Good,” Harry whispered quietly, fixing his glasses, looking at the ground, too embarrassed to hide the blush of his cheek and unable to suppress a smile at the thought of Y/N rejecting that jerk. 

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry loves when Y/N gets touchy like this with him. When randomly she hugs him, kisses him on his cheek, forehead, or settles on his lap while watching a movie. Her spontaneous kisses leave a soft tingle on his skin, and he can’t help but smile every time she curls up in his lap. It’s in these moments he feels closest to her, as if every touch and every kiss is a silent confession of how much she means to him. His arm instinctively wraps around her waist, pulling her in a little tighter, enjoying the way she fits perfectly against him. The movie on the screen fades into the background; all he can focus on is the warmth of her body and the way she makes him feel—like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. It all feels so natural. And they never have those awkward moments because they both love these touches. Whenever yn touches him, he feels electricity buzzing through him, in a good way. His skin feels like jello and his heart is thumping loudly, His brain is all muddled with goo and sparkles. 

He wants to treasure those moments forever and constantly wishes for more and more. 

It was one of those rare evenings for Harry and Y/N, Where the world seemed to quiet down just for them. They had just finished with their midterms and needed this for the longest time. Dim yellow lights, a bottle of red wine sitting on the table, a soft record player playing in the background. Legs tangled under the blanket as Harry and Y/N sat closer to each other, just enjoying each other’s presence. The warmth of Yn’s body pressed against him felt like home.

Harry’s fingers absentmindedly played with a strand of Y/N’s hair, twirling it between his fingertips. His eyes traced over her face, taking in every detail — the curve of her lips, the soft rise and fall of her chest.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Harry whispered, his voice low and soft, his breath tickling her ear.

Y/N turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a soft smile and cheeks already flushed because of wine, changed into a deeper shade of red at his words. “You always say that.” Slurred her words lightly. 

“Because it’s true,” he murmured, leaning in closer, their faces just inches apart. His fingers gently tugging at her bottom lip, eyes flickering to her mouth. “And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of telling you that.” 

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with unspoken words and emotions. Y/N felt her heart race as Harry’s eyes locked onto hers, filled with something deeper than just affection.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Y/N tilted her head, her lips brushing against Harry’s in the softest kiss, testing the waters. It was brief- just a featherlight kiss- but enough to send a shockwave through him. Harry let out a quiet sigh, his hand moving to cup her face as he deepened the kiss, slow and tender. As he leaned in closer, Y/N gently pushed his glasses up onto his forehead, making it easier for them to get lost in each other. Suddenly, he realized what he had done.

Harry pulled back immediately, his eyes wide with surprise at his own action.

“Sorry,” he blurted out, his voice panicked. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushing, but there was no trace of anger or discomfort on her face. Instead, she smiled softly, a warmth blooming in her chest at his sudden vulnerability. “No, Harry… It’s okay.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean—”

“Harry,” Y/N interrupted gently, her voice barely a whisper as she moved closer, her hand resting on his cheek. “It’s okay, I want this, I promise.”

Harry couldn’t quite grasp what was happening—it all felt too surreal, like something straight out of his dreams. Yet, here it was, playing out in real time. In the blink of an eye, Y/N tossed the blanket aside and straddled his lap. Her hands slid up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt as she pressed closer to him, wanting to be as near as possible. Her fingers trailed up his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his shirt, before cradling his face. Without hesitation, she pulled him into a deep kiss.

Harry was still trying to make sense of it all, but instinctively, his hands found their place—one tangling in her hair, the other resting gently on her neck.

The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with all the emotions that had been simmering under the surface for so long. His lips were soft, and she could taste the faint hint of wine on them. Their lips molded perfectly, like it was meant to be. Time seemed to blur. It must have been five minutes, or five hours; neither of them knew. It was a heated blend of tongue, teeth, and lips. 

Y/N’s hand reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it. Harry pulled back, catching his breath, resting his forehead against hers. His heart pounded, blood rushing south; he was so hard, making him ache beneath her. 

“Can I take off your top, baby?” He whispered, his breath warm against her jaw as he kissed and nipped at it.

“Yes, yes, please,” she murmured, and that was all the permission Harry needed. He swiftly pulled off her shirt—his shirt—and eagerly ran his hands over her smooth, soft skin. 

“So soft, your skin is so soft,” he murmured, his hands working behind her, unclasping her bra. 

Her tits were a piece of art—Round, so full and perfectly perky. His large hands cup them, gently rolling the nipple between his fingers. 

Now she sat only straddling him in her thin, barely there sleeping shorts; she could feel his hard cock beneath her, thick and throbbing, nudging her entrance. Her dampness was seeping through both of their shorts. A delicious remainder, how much she wanted him. He could feel her cunt fluttering around nothing, desperate for him. 

 Harry had to shut his eyes and  take  a few steady breaths as his chest rose and fell with anticipation. Slowly, he leaned forward, prepping light kisses along the curve of her breast. Y/N moaned softly, arching her back, giving him more access to her boobs. He latched onto her nipple, sucking lightly, while his free hand teased her other breast, tugging and rolling the sensitive nub. Y/N hips began to move instinctively, grinding against him, writhing on his cock couldn’t help but start grinding, writhing on his lap.  

"Feels good," she murmured, eyes closed as  she gently took his glasses from his head and placed them on the couch next to them, her fingers threaded through his messy curls. His cock twitched beneath her, nudging her clit, and she could feel her body growing even wetter, soaking through the fabric that separated them. Harry kept switching between her breasts, his mouth worshipping each one as he sucked harder, sending jolts of pleasure through her core.

Making her more drenched 

“Just like that, ride me Y/N” Harry growled, his voice low and demanding. His hands slid from her breast to her waist, guiding her movements. Making her move forward and backward, her clothed, dripping core dragged across his cock, making them both shiver with need. His tattoos peeked through as he finally tugged his shirt off, revealing his inked chest - abs flexing under the butterfly, the black ink stark against his flushed, heated skin.

Y/N's fingers trailed down, dragging her nails across his chest, loving the way his tattoos twisted beneath her touch. She leaned down, biting his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. Harry groaned, loving the possessiveness of it—her mark on him. He was hers. 

“You’re doing so good, Angel” he murmured, nipping her ear. Harry was a complete mess beneath her. His eyes glossy, pupils blown away with lust, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, lips slick and swollen from their kisses. He looks so sexy, Y/N leaned forward, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, swallowing each other’s  moans while increasing her pace. 

He could not believe Y/N was on top of him, grinding against his cock, her sweet little moans filling the air. He was sure he’d reached heaven. He glanced down between them, seeing the wet patch her arousal had left on his shorts, mixed with his own pre cum. 

As Y/N ground herself against him, her clit dragged over the thick length of his cock, and each upward motion had his tip grazing her entrance. The feeling made them both shiver. Her blunt nails dug into his shoulders as her eyes squeezed shut in bliss, her lip caught between her teeth, trying to hold back a whimper. 

Harry slid his hand down, rubbing her clit with his thumb in slow, tight circles, giving her that extra bit of pleasure she craved. “I want you to feel good, baby,” he whispered, his fingers working faster, determined to push her over the edge. His angel deserved to feel good. 

Y/N threw her head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. “I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered meekly, her voice shaking. Harry quickened his pace, his fingers pressing into her clit with just the right amount of pressure. “Cum for me, baby,” he urged, his voice thick and desperate.

Y/N cries out as her orgasm rips through her, the coil in her belly finally exploding, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. She felt like she was floating—fireworks and butterflies all at once. 

She has never cum so hard in her life. Her fingers never did the job, and vibrators were too boring for her. 

Below her, she feels Harry twitching. He buries  his face in her neck, biting down a patch of her skin to stifle his own moan as he reached the brink. Both arms wrapped around her waist, his eyes shut, loud and desperate whimpers falling from his lips. 

“That’s it, honey,” Y/N cooed, her voice soft and soothing, threading her fingers through his damp curls as she continued to ride him. She could feel him shaking beneath her as his orgasm finally hit, releasing with a loud groan as his body went rigid. His vision blurred, ears ringing, as the bliss overwhelmed him completely. He felt like he was in paradise, his body melting into hers.

For a moment, they just stayed like that—foreheads pressed together, hearts beating in sync, both of them coming down from their highs. Still trying to make sense of what just happened. Harry let out a breathy laugh, looking for his glasses and placing them again on his face. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, still catching his breath.

Y/N smiled down at him, her fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest, loving how warm he felt under her touch. “And you’re a mess,” she teased softly, laughing with him. Harry grinned, pulling her closer.

"Yeah, but I’m your mess," he murmured, kissing her softly, the intimacy between them palpable.

They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, exchanging gentle kisses. “I want this with you, Y/N” Harry whispered, “I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel something for you. That I don’t feel this whenever I’m around you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening as his words hit her. She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

Harry pressed on, the confession spilling out of him like a flood. “I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to ruin us. You’re my best friend, Y/N. The most important person in my life, and I was terrified of messing that up. But tonight... it just felt right. It always felt right with you.” 

The air hung heavy between them, the weight of his confession pulling her down, making her chest tighten. Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had always felt something too—always pushed it aside, too afraid of what it would mean for them and for their friendship. But now that it was out there, she couldn’t run from it anymore.

Harry’s eyes softened behind his glasses,  his heart racing a mile a minute. He had finally said it—the words he never thought he’d be able to voice, yet they spilled out of him because he couldn’t hold them in any longer. He had to tell Y/N everything. 

But he still didn’t know if she felt the same, if she liked—no, loved—him back. And though the thought of her rejecting him terrified him, he was ready for it. His heart would shatter into a million pieces, but he would respect her decision, even if it meant she wanted him out of her life completely. It would hurt—of course, it would—but the idea of staying by her side and making her uncomfortable hurt even more.

He braced himself for her response, never expecting what she would say next.

 “I love you, Harry. I think I’ve loved you for a long time... but I was too much of a coward to confess it,” Y/N murmured, her eyes glistening with tears. “All this time, I didn’t want to lose you, so I just... ignored it. But tonight? It meant everything. I want this with you too.”

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heart pounding beneath her ear. 

“I always thought you had a thing for Emma from our sociology class,” Y/N added with a teary giggle, realizing how silly it sounded now.

Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion. Emma? He had never thought of her as more than a classmate. His friends had mentioned once or twice that Emma might have a crush on him, but he’d never taken it seriously. His focus had always been on Y/N.

Before he could explain, Y/N cut him off. “But now I get it—you don’t like her. It was probably just my insecurities talking,” she said softly, her eyes dropping to her lap as she fidgeted with her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.

“Baby, Y/N, look at me,” Harry gently commanded. “I had no idea you were worrying about all of this. Emma? I’ve probably spoken to her five times at most, and I don’t like her that way at all. You have nothing to be insecure about.” He cupped her jaw tenderly, his thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, my angel. The only girl I love and care about.”

Harry's thumb continued to stroke Y/N's cheek gently, his eyes soft and unwavering as he held her gaze. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. I’ve never even thought about anyone else the way I think about you. It’s always been you.”

Her breath hitched at his words, the insecurity that had weighed her down for so long now starting to lift. She opened her mouth to say something, but Harry wasn’t finished. His other hand slid down to cradle her waist, pulling her more closer if that was possible. They were basically molded together. 

“I love the way you say my name; I love how you play with my rings whenever you get nervous; I love the way you get excited over little things; I love the way you get grumpy whenever you are hungry; I love the way you look at me when you think I am not paying attention. And I love you; don’t ever want you to doubt that, okay?” 

Y/N felt warmth flood her chest as his words washed over her. She’d spent so long overthinking everything, never realizing that Harry had been feeling the same all along.

She blinked back the last of her tears, smiling up at him. “I don’t know why I thought otherwise,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of emotion.

Harry pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there. “Because you care so much,” he murmured against her skin. “And that’s one of the things I love about you.”

Y/N leaned into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. the tension in her body melting away.

Harry resting his chin on the top of her head. “But now, no more hiding, yeah? No more overthinking or doubting. It’s just us now. I’m yours, and I’ve always been.”

Y/N tilted her head back to look at him, her smile widening as her fingers laced through his. “Just us,” she repeated softly.

Harry’s heart swelled as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. “Just us,” he echoed, his voice a gentle promise.

[crushpunky]

drew and costar!reader take the glamour friendship test

masterlist

based on this ask :)

Y/n and Drew walked out onto the bright, white set, their outfits coordinating shades of purple as they prepared for another interview ahead of the release of their film, “Be My Mistake”.

Exercise 1: First Impressions

“Scary… very scary.” Y/n said, looking over at Drew to gauge his reaction. He furrowed his brow, looking between her and the camera before they both descended into giggles. Y/n leaned into Drew as she laughed, Drew catching her and pushing her back up.

“We were told we needed to take this seriously and this is the [bleep] you pull.” Drew chuckled, shaking his head, a grin on his face.

“Ok, ok, seriously,” y/n said, “I was a bit intimidated, but that was mainly because he was so business-y and… I mean Drew’s a pretty big and tall guy so there’s that. But once we got to talking, and he really got out of his shell, I was amazed by how intelligent and funny he was.”

“‘Intelligent and funny’. Wow.” Drew teased, elbowing y/n lightly. “Well, I knew of you before we met and was impressed with your talent and beauty on screen. However, once we met, I was thrilled to find a wonderful personality that accompanied all that.”

“We quickly found out that we’re just about the same person, so that was a pleasant surprise.” Y/n nodded, wrapping an arm around Drew and squeezing his arm lightly.

Exercise 2: Give Your Friend a Compliment

“I feel like we already did that,” Drew laughed, “but I can definitely find a couple more things to say.”

“I mean I guess I already said this, but Drew is really such an intelligent person,” Y/n gazed at Drew, “like not just book smart, but relationship, emotional smart. He’s very much in touch with all of that and is a very good gauge-r for people’s feelings.”

“Y/n is actually the funniest person I know and that’s not me being dramatic.” Drew grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as much with anyone else… definitely not to the point of nearly getting kicked out of a restaurant.”

Y/n laughed at the memory. The two of them had gone out for a nice dinner following wrapping on “Be My Mistake”, dressing up and sharing a couple drinks. However, their usual banter resulted in them laughing quite loudly for the duration of the meal. Shortly after their main courses had arrived, a waiter had come over telling them about how some guests were complaining about the two of them being disruptive, which only made them laugh louder. By some grace of god, however, they didn’t get asked to leave.

“It’s not my fault I’m hilarious.” Y/n said with a simple shrug, causing Drew to laugh.

Exercise 3: Fishbowl of Memories

“Oooh.” Drew said as y/n took the large fishbowl from one of the PAs. Inside, various scraps of paper filled the bowl, each with a question.

“I’ll let you have the honor of going first.” Y/n smiled, offering the bowl out to Drew. He dug inside, grabbing a slip of paper as y/n sat the bowl down on the table in front of them.

“What was the funniest blooper in this film?” Drew read before glancing over at y/n, a smirk on his face. Y/n gave him the same look back, the two of them thinking of the same moment.

“There was an… unfortunate incident in which I accidentally pantsed Drew.” Y/n said, trying her best to stifle her laughter. Drew nodded his head, a warm pink spreading across his cheeks.

“You might be thinking, how do you accidentally pants someone?” Drew teased, y/n folding her hands on the table in front of her dramatically.

“We were filming a scene where our characters were arguing and Drew turned to walk away, and I went to follow after him,” y/n explained. “However, I tripped over a rug and fell. I tried to catch myself on Drew, I was sort of grabbing at him, but only ended up getting his pants before I fell… the pants coming with unfortunately.”

“I really hope that that’s not on the blooper real.” Drew shook his head, rubbing a hand along his jaw.

“Oh, I’m sure the ladies would love to see Starkey in his tighty-whities. A real treat.” Y/n teased. Drew cringed, shoving at y/n’s shoulder before gesturing for her to pick a piece of paper from the bowl.

“What is your favorite memory with each other?” Y/n read, looking over at Drew as the two of them thought. They stared at each other in silence, both of their brows furrowing as they shuffled through an abundance of memories.

“I think I have mine.” Drew said, snapping his fingers before turning towards the camera.

“Ok, ok. Me too. Let’s see if we agree.” Y/n nodded, still facing Drew as she waited for him to speak.

“Mine is when we went to get tattoos and y/n passed out and I had to carry her out to the car because she was being so dramatic.” Drew laughed, his laughter growing even louder as y/n’s jaw dropped. She hit his arm lightly, groaning at the memory. 

“I wasn’t being dramatic I— ok, maybe I was but I was probably still hungover from the night before.” Y/n chuckled.

“Your turn.” Drew said, leaning to rest his elbows on the table and his chin in his palms in faux overinterest.

“My favorite memory is when we sang Wicked at some karaoke bar and it was so bad that people started booing us.” Y/n laughed. They had gone out with the rest of the cast to a karaoke bar down the street from where they had been shooting. Later in the night, after a couple of drinks, Drew and y/n decided it would be a good idea to sing “Defying Gravity”. Neither of them being singers, nor anywhere talented enough for the numerous high notes, the regular patrons of the bar began booing and cringing at their attempt at the notoriously difficult to sing song.

“‘Please for the love of god stop’.” Drew recited one of the patrons’ comments, causing y/n to throw her head back laughing.

“Wow, jeez. That was a deep cut.” Y/n straightened herself back up, smoothing out the  front of her dress. Drew threw an arm over her shoulders, bringing her to his side.

“I think we passed. I think we’re friends, right?” Drew shook y/n playfully, who just let out a sarcastic groan.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Y/n gave in, wrapping her arm around Drew’s torso and hugging him lightly.

“Thank you for watching!” Drew said with a wave, y/n joining in and waving excitedly. The two of them jumped up and down, their waves growing more intense, until they both fell into each other and collapsed into laughter that continued even after the cameras cut.

[jikookncity]

Brother’s Best Friend Jaehyun x Reader (Smut)

WC: 4k, smut, dirty talk, oral sex, unprotected sex, shower sex, etc.

Jaehyun hasn't seen his best friend's little sister in 2 years and a lot has changed.

It started the day Jaehyun walked back into her life.

Two years away. Two years without his lazy smirks, his low voice, his teasing comments that always seemed to toe the line between playful and absolutely filthy. But when he strolled into his and Johnny’s kitchen—sun-kissed, hair blond and messy, tattoo just barely peeking from under his sleeve—Y/N swore her knees nearly gave out.

And Jaehyun noticed.

Of course he noticed.

“Look who grew up,” he murmured, eyeing her up and down shamelessly. “You always this pretty, or is it just fucking with my head today?”

Y/N flushed scarlet. She hadn’t her brothers best friend in two years and that’s the first thing out of his mouth? Moving back in with her brother and Jae was gonna be tough.

“You’re one to talk,” she mumbled, trying to look away.

But he stepped closer, eyes locked on hers, smirk playing on his lips. “Say that again, angel. I liked how that sounded.”

She scurried off, cheeks burning.

It only got worse after that.

Every time they crossed paths—Jaehyun alone in the hallway, shirtless in the kitchen, sprawled on the couch with that stupid smug smile—he’d say something.

“You know your skirt’s riding up, right?”

“Careful looking at me like that, baby. Someone might think you want something.”

“You keep biting your lip like that and I’m gonna start wondering what else that mouth’s good for.”

Each time, her throat dried, her heart raced, and her body responded way too fast.

But Jaehyun never touched her. Never crossed the line. He'd crowd her into a wall, whisper things into her ear, and back off with a lazy wink—just enough to ruin her for the rest of the day.

And she kept letting him. Kept loving it.

The Party

She wasn’t even supposed to be going. Johnny had said it was mostly older friends, college guys, exes—“boring,” he’d told her.

But when she heard Jaehyun would be there, Y/N made a choice.

A tight black dress. Strapless. Short. Paired with heels and gloss and a teasing perfume she hoped he’d notice. The moment she walked into the apartment, she saw the way heads turned—and more importantly, she felt his eyes on her.

Jaehyun was leaning against the wall with a drink in hand, laughing with someone. But the second he saw her, his jaw went slack. His gaze dragged over her—slow, dark, deliberate.

And he didn’t look away.

He didn’t approach her all night. He didn’t say anything. But she felt him everywhere—watching, pacing like a predator, drinking her in from across the room.

And finally, when she slipped into the kitchen for air, he followed.

“You wore that dress for me.”

Y/N spun around. Jaehyun stood in the doorway, shirt open at the collar, hair wild like he’d run his hand through it too many times. His voice was low, rough, already half-wrecked with frustration.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she whispered, clutching her cup.

He stalked closer. “You knew I’d be here. You knew what that dress would do to me.”

“I didn’t think you’d even notice.”

“Bullshit.” His eyes dragged down her body again. “You wanted me to notice. You want me to look at you and forget all the reasons I shouldn’t bend you over this counter right now.”

She swallowed, heart hammering. “We’re not doing this.”

His jaw ticked. “You think I want to want you?” He stepped closer. “You think this is easy for me? Knowing every inch of you is off-limits? Knowing I can’t fucking touch you because your brother would bury me alive?”

Y/N gasped as his hand flattened on the counter beside her hip, boxing her in without touching.

“You walk around like you don’t know what you’re doing,” Jaehyun growled. “Like you don’t see how I stare at your legs. Your lips. How I can’t stop thinking about the sounds you’d make if I had my mouth between your thighs.”

“Stop,” she whispered.

“Why?” His face was inches from hers now, voice ragged. “Because if I say one more filthy thing, you’re gonna let me pull that dress up and show you exactly how long I’ve been waiting to fuck you?”

“Jaehyun—”

“You want me to stop?” he asked, chest rising and falling fast. “Say it. Say you don’t think about it too. Say you haven’t imagined me fucking you so hard you forget your own name.”

She couldn’t speak. Her body was shaking.

But then she whispered, “We can’t…”

His forehead touched hers for a second, hot and desperate.

“I know we can’t,” he breathed. “But don’t lie to me, baby. Don’t lie to yourself.”

A pause. Their lips almost brushed. So close it hurt.

“I want you,” she admitted, barely audible. “So fucking bad.”

He let out a rough, broken sound—half a groan, half a curse—and stepped back like it physically hurt to leave her.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Me too.”

Another beat of silence. Then he looked her over one last time, hunger still sharp in his eyes.

“This tension’s gonna kill us.”

She nodded. “I know.”

They didn’t kiss. They didn’t touch.

They just stood there, burning alive, trying not to destroy everything.

Later that night...

Jaehyun hadn’t moved in twenty minutes.

He leaned back in a chair on the balcony, nursing the same drink while the rest of the guys hollered over some drinking game inside. His jaw was tight. His eyes tracked every shadow that passed near the kitchen—her. He hadn’t seen Y/N since she slipped out, cheeks flushed and lips parted like she wanted him to ruin her right there.

And fuck, he wanted to.

But he couldn’t.

“Bro,” one of the guys nudged him. “You good?”

“Hm?” Jaehyun looked up.

“You haven’t flirted with anyone all night. Usually by now you’re halfway into someone’s pants.”

Jaehyun gave a lazy smirk. “Guess I’m just not in the mood.”

But his voice lacked its usual cocky bite. His mind was still in that kitchen—her body inches from his, breath catching when he told her how much he wanted her.

“Not like you,” the guy muttered, squinting at him. “You’re not sulking over a girl, are you?”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “Relax.”

But the guy didn’t drop it. “Wait... are you—”

A sudden commotion cut him off.

Shouting. From the front lawn.

Voices raised, sharp. A girl’s voice.

Jaehyun was already standing before the others processed what was happening. He recognized it immediately—her voice. Her angry voice.

By the time he pushed through the door and onto the porch, a small crowd had already formed near the edge of the lawn.

There she was—Y/N, flushed and furious, backing away from some drunk asshole with slick hair and a cocky stance.

“I said no,” she snapped, voice shaking. “Don’t touch me.”

“Come on,” the guy slurred. “You’ve been giving me looks all night.”

Jaehyun didn’t hesitate.

He was down the steps in two strides, pushing through the crowd, voice sharp and deadly.

“She said no. Back the fuck off.”

The guy blinked at him, confused. “Who the hell are you?”

Jaehyun stepped between them, towering over him now. “The last person you want to piss off tonight.”

The guy scoffed, tried to square up—drunk and dumb.

And Jaehyun didn’t give him the chance.

He punched him—clean, hard, right in the face.

The guy hit the ground like a sack of bricks, groaning, hands clutching his nose.

The crowd gasped. Someone laughed. Someone cheered. And Jaehyun just stood there, chest heaving, teeth clenched, fists still curled like he wanted to throw another.

Y/N stared at him, breathless. Eyes wide. Lips parted. She grabbed his hand and he unclenched his fists and gave her a soft look.

Johnny came out seconds later, saw the scene, and rushed over, both of them quickly letting go.

“What the hell happened?”

Jaehyun didn’t even look at him. “Your sister was dealing with some creep who didn’t know what no meant.”

Johnny looked between the guy on the ground and Y/N—who was visibly shaken—and then back at Jaehyun.

His expression softened.

“Thanks for stepping in, man,” Johnny said, clapping a hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Seriously.”

Jaehyun nodded once, barely. “Anytime.”

But he wasn’t thinking about the fight anymore.

He was thinking about the way Y/N looked at him just now—like she wanted to fall into his arms and never come out.

Later That Night – Jaehyun’s Room

It was quiet.

The party had died down. Most people had left. Johnny was still out back finishing drinks with a few stragglers.

Jaehyun lay on his bed, shirt off, muscles tense, replaying that moment over and over. Her voice. The way her eyes had found his. The heat still thrumming in his chest.

Then a soft knock.

He sat up fast. “Yeah?”

The door cracked open. Y/N slipped in.

Short shorts. A thin tank top. No bra. Hair down. Barefoot.

Every nerve in Jaehyun’s body snapped awake.

“I… just wanted to thank you,” she whispered, stepping in and closing the door behind her. “For earlier.”

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his eyes on hers. “He shouldn’t have touched you.”

“I was handling it,” she said, a smile playing on her lips.

“Not fast enough.”

They both laughed softly. The air between them buzzed.

Then she walked closer.

So close.

He sat on the edge of the bed, and she stopped in front of him. Her fingers brushed his knuckles—light, unsure. Then her other hand cupped his cheek, gently, tenderly.

Her lips pressed against his cheek. A soft kiss. A thank-you.

But then she lingered. Just a second too long.

And when she pulled back, their lips brushed.

Soft. Barely-there. But real.

Jaehyun didn’t move.

Neither did she.

Her breath trembled. “Jae…”

Then—

SLAM.

The front door opened. Johnny’s voice echoed through the house.

“Yo! Anyone still awake?”

They froze.

Y/N stepped back quickly, cheeks flushed, heart pounding.

Jaehyun stood too, tension radiating off him in waves.

“We shouldn’t…”

“No,” he agreed, voice tight. “We shouldn’t.”

But their eyes said everything else.

She slipped out of the room a second later, heartbeat still in her throat.

And Jaehyun sat back down, fists clenched in his lap, jaw tight, cursing every goddamn reason he couldn’t have her.

The Next Day

The backyard smelled like grilled meat, sunscreen, and summer sweat. The gang was loud—music playing, beers clinking, people laughing too hard at nothing. Y/N sat on a bench under the umbrella, trying to pretend she was listening to Johnny talk about some dumb lawn game.

But she couldn’t focus. Not with him there.

Jaehyun.

Laid back in a white tank top that clung to his chest, golden skin glowing under the sun, hair pushed back lazily as he nursed a beer. He looked like sin in human form. And every time he glanced at her—every slow drag of his eyes—her thighs pressed tighter together under the table.

He hadn’t said a word to her all afternoon.

Not a single filthy whisper. Not a single cocky smirk.

Which made her want it more.

And he knew it.

Later, she slipped inside to grab napkins from the kitchen—and the second the screen door shut behind her, she felt it.

His presence.

She turned, startled, just as Jaehyun’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her down the hallway.

“Jae—what are you—”

“Shhh,” he muttered, glancing over his shoulder. No one noticed.

And then they were in the narrow hallway, alone, hidden from the windows.

He backed her into the wall—crowding her in. One hand on the wall beside her head, the other gripping her chin, thumb grazing her lower lip.

“Wearing those little shorts again,” he murmured, voice low and deadly. “Trying to make me lose my mind in front of all our friends?”

Y/N couldn’t breathe.

“You haven’t even looked at me all day,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened. “Because if I looked at you too long, I’d drag you inside and make you scream my name.”

Her knees buckled.

“You want that, don’t you?” he murmured, leaning closer—his breath hot on her ear. “You want me to take you right here. Up against this wall. My hand over your mouth so they don’t hear you moan.”

Y/N whimpered.

Jaehyun groaned, deep in his throat. “You’d be so fucking loud for me.”

Before she could stop herself, her hands slid up his chest. Her thighs pressed together. And then she ground herself on his leg—slow, needy, shameless.

“Fuck, baby…” he hissed, thigh flexing under her. “You’re dripping for me, aren’t you?”

Her fingers gripped his shirt. Her hips kept moving, grinding up the length of his thigh like she couldn’t help herself.

His forehead touched hers. Their lips brushed.

Barely.

She let out a breathy, desperate moan straight into his mouth.

And Jaehyun snapped.

Not all the way.

But enough to shove his hand over her mouth, breathing hard as he held her there, both of them trembling.

“Stop,” he panted. “Y/N, stop—fuck—”

She slowed.

But she didn’t back away. Her eyes were glassy. Her cheeks flushed. Her body buzzed with the tension still thick between them.

He leaned in, whispering against her ear again, voice wrecked. “You do that again and I won’t stop next time.”

A beat passed. Her thighs clenched.

Then—voices.

“Where’s Y/N?” “Didn’t she go inside?” “Yo, Jae! You seen her?”

They froze.

Jaehyun exhaled sharply, composed himself. Dropped his hand from her mouth. Straightened his shirt. Ran a hand through his hair.

Y/N looked equally wrecked.

They took a breath.

And then they walked out together—calm, casual, like nothing had happened.

“Oh,” Jaehyun said easily, slinging an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “She spilled juice in the kitchen. We were cleaning it up.”

Johnny blinked. “You cleaned a spill?”

Jaehyun smiled lazily. “What can I say? I’m helpful.”

Y/N laughed—too high-pitched. “So helpful.”

And no one questioned it.

But under the table, Jaehyun’s hand brushed her thigh. Just once.

A silent promise.

When they had a moment alone later Jaehyun thought it over. They can't keep going like this. He was too attracted to her and it wouldn't end well. Even a little bit isn't enough. He had to cut her off.

"We can't be friends." Jae said guiltily when they were alone.

"What?" Y/n looked in shock.

"I can't be your friend. Because I'll never think of you or see you as my friend. And every time we have a normal interaction I'm just thinking about everything I wanna do to you and how your brother would kill me if he found out."

Y/n scoffed offended. "You don't even wanna be friends? That's a lame excuse Jae, even from you. But fine. You got it, we're no longer friends."

Over the next few days tensions grew with their constant bickering and y/n wearing more revealing clothing around the house.

It started with another fight.

Jaehyun had been moody all day—gruff responses, tense jaw, barely speaking to anyone. Y/N finally snapped after he gave her yet another cold stare when she passed him in the hallway.

“What the hell is your problem?” she hissed, arms crossed tight.

“You,” he bit out. “You’re my fucking problem.”

Her heart stuttered.

“You don’t want me. You don’t want to be friends. So what do you want from me, Jaehyun? We both live in this house so suck it up.”

“I want to stop thinking about you every time you breathe in the same damn room!” His voice cracked. “I can’t—fuck—I can’t pretend this is normal. I can’t act like I’m not dying to touch you every second.”

Y/N stared at him, chest heaving. Her cheeks burned with anger and something else. “Fine,” she snapped, voice cold. “You don’t want to deal with me? Then don’t.”

That night, she went on a date with someone else.

Later That Night

The restaurant was awful. The guy was worse. He talked over her, laughed at nothing, stared at her chest the entire time.

And when he leaned in, trying to kiss her outside by her Uber, she shoved him away and ran.

Tears burned in her eyes as she called the only person she knew would come.

“Jae…” she whispered when he answered. “Can you… can you pick me up?”

He didn’t hesitate. He picked her up and drove her back to their place, the car ride thick with silence. 

It was pouring.

The sky cracked open above them, rain spilling like it had been waiting for this moment—just like them.

Y/N got out of the car and stood at the edge of the driveway, soaked and seething, arms crossed under her chest as thunder rolled in the distance. Her white tank clung to her breasts like second skin, completely see-through, nipples clearly visible. Her tiny denim skirt was soaked and hitched up high, the hot pink waistband of her panties teasing just above the fabric.

And Jaehyun—black shirt plastered to his chest, cargo pants hugging his hips, tattoos glistening in the storm—stood there with his jaw clenched, looking like he was on the verge of tearing something apart.

He was.

“What the hell are you doing calling me?” he snapped, stepping into the rain. “Didn’t you run off to your perfect little date?”

She spun around, drenched hair whipping over her shoulder. “Don’t start.”

“Don’t fucking start?” His laugh was humorless. “You go out, dressed like that, trying to pretend I don’t exist, then cry for me to come save you like I’m still the good guy?”

“I called you because it's your fucking fault I went on that date in the first place. I didn’t know who else to—!”

“No,” he growled, stepping closer, “you called me because even when you’re pissed at me, you still want me.”

Her breath caught.

Jaehyun's eyes dragged down her body, tongue darting out over his bottom lip. “You really think I didn’t notice that tiny little skirt, that wet tank, those bright fucking panties begging to be pulled down?”

Her eyes widened, but he wasn’t done.

“You walk around dripping wet, tits out, skirt barely covering your ass—and I’m supposed to keep pretending I don’t want to bend you over every surface I see?”

Y/N’s lips parted in shock.

“You think I haven’t pictured it?” he hissed. “Your legs spread in my backseat, you wrapped around me while my tongue is down your throat? Or your mouth gagged on my cock, crying while I throat fuck every thought of every other guy out of your head?”

Her knees buckled slightly. He saw it—and grinned. Dark. Filthy.

She shoved at his chest. “You're such a—”

But he grabbed her.

Fisted her skirt and panties, yanking her flush against him. Her gasp was swallowed by the sound of rain, her breath catching when she felt how hard he was through his pants.

“I’ve had enough of pretending,” he rasped. His lips brushed hers. “I’m fucking done.”

Then his voice dropped, hot and filthy against her mouth:

“Fuck it.”

And then he took her mouth.

It was wild. Open. Tongues colliding. His lips crushed hers, tongue shoving into her mouth like he was claiming it—like he’d been waiting years to taste her. His hand stayed tight on her panties, holding her body against his while he devoured her, spit and rain mixing between them.

Y/N moaned into it—helplessly—gripping his shirt like she needed something to hang on to.

Jaehyun groaned, deep and rough, sucking on her tongue before biting her bottom lip just to hear her whimper.

“You feel that?” he growled between kisses, grinding into her soaked skirt. “That’s what you fucking do to me.”

She was panting, dazed, lips swollen.

And he wasn’t done.

“I swear to god, if Johnny wasn’t your brother—” he shoved her back against the wall of the house, kissing her again, even harder this time— “I’d have fucked you right here. In the rain. With your panties still on.”

When they finally broke apart, both wrecked and breathless, her voice trembled.

“I want you.”

He wiped the rain from her cheek, staring at her like she was his breaking point and salvation at once.

“You’ve got me,” he whispered. “Now I’m done hiding it.”

The kiss didn’t stop.

Even as Jaehyun dragged her back into the house, their mouths stayed fused—wet, frantic, tongues tangling while their soaked bodies bumped into walls and doorframes. His hand stayed tight on her waist, the other sliding up under her clingy, dripping tank, fingers kneading over bare, slick skin.

He kicked his bedroom door shut and slammed her against it, lips pressing into her jaw, her throat, her collarbone. He groaned when he felt the heat of her body through the thin fabric, both of them soaked to the bone and breathless.

“Clothes,” he growled against her mouth, tugging hard at the hem of her top. “Off. Now.”

She whimpered as he peeled the wet fabric off her—tank top first, tossed somewhere on the floor. Her skirt followed with a harsh tug, panties bunched with it. His black shirt clung to his abs, tattoos snaking over soaked muscle as he pulled it off over his head.

She barely had a second to breathe before his lips were on her again—hot, hungry, starved—pushing her backward until her thighs hit the edge of his shower.

Jaehyun spun the handle.

Steam rushed out as hot water poured down from above.

He walked her straight into it, fully naked, his mouth still locked on hers. Their bodies collided under the stream, her back hitting the tile wall with a wet slap.

He didn’t let up.

His hands roamed—fisting her ass, dragging her against his thick length, sliding over her hips and ribs and chest, palms rough and greedy. His mouth dipped to her neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks, biting just below her jaw before kissing her again—deep and messy, with his tongue shoved so far into her mouth she could barely breathe.

“You feel that?” he growled, grinding into her under the water. “That’s what I’ve been hiding. Every night. Every time you walked past me looking like a fucking dream.”

“Jae—” she gasped, nails digging into his back.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done to me,” he snarled, grabbing her thighs. “But I’m about to show you.”

Then he lifted her.

Y/N yelped, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he pinned her back to the wall, her legs hooked around his waist. His cock pressed hot and hard between them, and then—with one deep thrust—he was inside her.

She cried out, head snapping back.

Jaehyun moaned—a filthy, guttural sound—his forehead resting against hers as he started to move, slow at first, then harder, faster, relentless.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, biting her bottom lip. “So fucking perfect. You were made for this. For me.”

Water rushed around them. Their skin slapped wetly with every thrust. She clung to him, moaning into his mouth, and he kissed her through all of it—tongue tangled with hers, hand gripping her ass as he pounded into her.

“You wanted this too,” he panted against her lips. “You’ve been teasing me, dressing like that, looking at me like you needed me to ruin you.”

And god, he was ruining her—completely.

When they came, they came together—loud, messy, full-body shudders against the tile wall, mouths fused as they moaned into each other’s throats.

But Jaehyun wasn’t done.

Still breathing heavy, he set her down gently, kissing her temple as her legs shook. She barely had time to process the comedown before he dropped to his knees.

“Jae—” she gasped, wide-eyed.

“Don’t stop me,” he said darkly, voice hoarse with want. “You think I’m done tasting you?”

Then he spread her thighs, still trembling, and buried his face between them.

Y/N nearly screamed—clamping her own hand over her mouth just in time.

His tongue was ruthless. Flicking, sucking, dragging through her slick folds like he couldn’t get enough. The water poured down around them, hot and pounding, but all she could feel was his mouth—his filthy, expert mouth—and the way he groaned like he was addicted to the taste of her.

“Keep that hand there,” he muttered against her, tongue dragging up again. “You don’t want Johnny hearing how much you love this.”

And she couldn’t even reply.

Because her body was already shaking again—under the water, on the wall, around Jaehyun’s mouth.

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Sneak peak below of what comes next:

Johnny wandered in, sipping coffee, squinting at him.

Jaehyun raised a brow. “What?”

Johnny gestured at his chest. “You’ve got scratches. Everywhere.”

Jae froze mid-bite. “Huh?”

“And hickeys,” Johnny added casually. “Neck. Collarbone. Even your ribs, bro. Who the hell were you with last night?”

Jaehyun choked—literally—on the toast.

Coughing violently, he reached for his water. “I—uh—just… a girl. From the party. I don’t… remember her name.”

Johnny narrowed his eyes. “Huh. Funny.”

[littlcdarlin]

Into Temptation – the Outing

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

summary: Reader hasn't left Joel's side since they spent the night together. When he brings her to the Tipsy Bison days later, Tommy is pissed, and people stare at them. It should bother Joel, but it has the opposite effect. warnings: girthy juicy age gap (20 & late 50s), daddy kink (duh), overstimulation, forced orgasm (kinda sorta, consent is enthusiastic the whole time), breeding kink, praise kink, Joel calls reader “kid” or “kiddo”, dacryphilia, Joel gets off on people seeing them together, reader is really sweet

note: this Joel has me so weak in the knees I actually need to either be locked up or put down like a dog. Position inspired by that Narcos scene. You know the one. Enjoy!

For a man who likes to keep to himself, Joel sure doesn’t mind all the eyes glued to him – to you, your little hand clutching his, your torso drowning in one of Joel’s pullovers, his scent lingering all over you like some sort of sick perfume. They know what he did to you. What he will continue to do, once you’re back at his place. He took you there after your first day together at your place, because your house is still so empty – you haven’t been in Jackson long. Joel’s home smells like you now, and neither of you could come up with a good enough reason for you to go back to your place, when it’s so quiet and empty and Joel-less.

So he washed your clothes for you in the tub while you were sleeping, all fucked out, limp, and naked in his soiled sheets. This way you wouldn’t even have to go home to pick up new clothes, not for a while at least. He wouldn’t want you to be cold, though, so he gave you one of his knit sweaters to wear over your dress, and a heavy brown leather jacket. They are way too big on you of course, but for some reason they fit. Not physically, but it looks so right, you in his clothes, your hand in his, your hair still a little tangled in the back from where his hand buried itself when he kissed you right before leaving.

Truth be told, he wasn’t even keen on going to the Tipsy Bison. Hell, he went without a drink for four days and he didn’t mind a bit, your pliant body under his a pleasant distraction from all he tried to drown in whiskey. No, not a distraction – a cure. That’s what it felt like when he heard your voice, when he smelled your sweat and sweet perfume and felt you clench around him.

So no, he doesn’t mind people looking. You and him – it’s unusual, he knows that, knows how much of a pervert it makes him, but you moaned so sweetly for him, begged so politely, wanted him so bad. Unusual is the word for it, unusually good. You don’t seem to be very nervous, which validates him further. You feel safe in his hands, as safe as you did when you asked him to walk you home that first night, and if you don’t mind the looks people are giving you, he sure as hell can put up with them.

"Your friends here?"

You like to play cards in the evenings, he knows, and even though he’d rather sit down at the bar and pull you onto his lap, he’d be happy to leave you to it if it’s what you want.

"They’re on patrol, I think," you answer, eyes glued to his as the door of the bar slams shut behind you two, effectively blocking out the cold. "What day is it again?"

Jesus Christ, you don’t even know the fucking day, all perception of time lost to your endless naps after Joel made you come in various ways over the last couple of days. He feels that insatiable fire in his loins start again, even though he’s already fucked you two times today. Either you’re supplying him with the best cardio of his life, or he’ll die of heart failure any day now.

Before he can tell you the day, he feels a hand on his shoulder, and reluctantly drags his eyes away from your pretty face. He likes when it’s flushed, from the cold or from sex, he isn’t picky.

"Have you lost your fuckin’ mind, Joel?"

 Of course it’s Tommy. He saw right through Joel the first time he caught him watching you from across the bar, and came over to your place as soon as he figured out where his brother was.

Tommy’s angry face, the curses on his lips, the way his fist banged against the door frame. 

Joel, she’s twenty fuckin’ years old. There are plenty of women who’d be happy to keep you company. Just send her home, alright? She’s been in Jackson for like a minute, she doesn’t need you complicating things for her. 

But just before Tommy knocked, hadn’t you seemed so ecstatic in Joel’s arms, your body entirely relaxed? 

She’s an adult, Tommy, ’n it’s what she wants.

He heard your bare feet on the floor, was glad Tommy couldn’t see you with the door only half open, because if he turned around to look at you right then, Joel was sure he would be able to see his spent dripping out of you and the marks his lips had left all over your neck.

"Look, Tommy, it’s like this: you think you have a say in this cause of Maria’s position in Jackson, but it’s got nothin’ to do with you. At all. So back off."

Joel’s voice is quiet, he doesn’t want to cause a scene. What he wants is to have a glass of whiskey, watch the look on every man’s face in Jackson when they realize you’re sweet on him, and then go home and fuck your lights out. By the way you won’t let go of his hand, he guesses you’re not opposed to that plan either.

So he ignores Tommy and helps you out of your jacket – his jacket – for which you reward him with one of your dazzlingly sweet smiles. He watches as you take off his pullover, too, and although it fills him with a sick pleasure to think of everybody seeing you in his clothes, he’s blessed with your naked shoulders and arms instead. Immediately, his hand finds your back, right below your neck, the spot that isn’t covered by your dress. If he’s not mistaken, you shudder under his touch. God, he wants to take you to the bathroom and really make you shudder, but he’s more than testing Tommy’s patience already. His brother is watching with a deep scowl on his face, dark brows pulled tight together.

You smile at Tommy when Joel walks you over to the bar, ever sweet to everyone around you, and it makes him weak for you. You’re everything he isn’t.

"The usual, Joel?", the barkeeper asks, his eyes widening when he spots your hand holding Joel’s, the marks on your neck he forgot to conceal for you. A scarf would have done the trick, but Jesus, he likes this physical proof of how often he’s had you stretched on his cock already. It’s near primitive how much he wants to defend his territory. For a second he wonders if the kid who pestered you the night he took you home is here, and almost snorts at the idea of you and him together. What made his blood boil that night, now seems like a joke. You didn’t want a twenty-five year old kid, you wanted Joel, Daddy, with his bad back and greying hair and popping joints. Too good to be true, but true nonetheless. 

You sit down at the bar and he joins you, nodding at the barkeeper. Your leg presses into his immediately. He understands your need to be close to him, he feels the same way, so he reaches out and drags your barstool closer to his, until he can feel your body heat even through his flannel. You fingers clutch at his knee, as if there’s no other option for you but to touch him when he’s this close. He lets you, revels in the fact that you would probably let him touch you however he wanted in return.

The barkeeper gets Joel his whiskey and you your usual – Joel smiles when he realizes you’re both creatures of habit – and you clink your glass to his.

"Cheers," he says with a smile, watching your eyes that remind him so much of Bambi, and you chuckle.

"Cheers, Daddy."

It comes naturally, and it makes something deep within him stir. He doesn’t think anyone heard, but he knows if Tommy somehow got wind of what you call him, the debauched name he drags from you with strokes of his cock or fingers, or just with a smile, well, he’d probably wring his neck. He knows he should tell you not to call him that in public, but you seem so happy to be here with Joel, any thoughts of chastising you are wiped from his mind.

"You look so pretty, baby, I forgot why we ever left the house," he mutters, making you blush and laugh lightly. His eyes follow your movement when you clench your thighs and he wants to groan. Whenever he thinks it’s sick how much, how often, he wants you, you want him right back, and any doubts shrivel up inside of him. He wishes he could take you here, make everyone watch how willing you are for him, and maybe then they’d understand that there was never another outcome than this one, maybe then he’d get you all to himself again, with nobody knocking on the door after he just pumped you full of his load. He thinks you might just let him, too.

Instead, he takes a sip of his whiskey. You’re quiet, and he wonders if you’re uncomfortable, but before he can ask, you lean up and catch his lips in a kiss. God, he should really put a stop to this before his brother has an aneurysm, but you taste so sweet. It’s just a peck, but it leaves him wanting more, and he wonders how quickly you two can get away with leaving again without making people talk more than they already will.

You’re here for a reason of course, something about keeping up appearances, though the details escape him with you fogging up his brain. But he can’t steal you away completely, or people will do more than whisper and point. A pretty girl like you, not leaving the house of an old man like him – it wouldn’t be received well, and you’ve been pushing it with the last couple of days already. So, a nice public outing, where everybody can see just how content you are, and then it’s back to Joel’s bedroom. He wonders for how long he can stop going on patrols before Tommy will threaten to throw him out of town.

"You know," he mutters, leaning down so he’s sure only you can hear him, "when we get home, you’re not wearing clothes for a week, baby. Already miss you naked."

You blush violently, but a satisfied smile curls your lips upward.

"I’ll get cold," you answer, half pouting. Joel wants to feel that pout with his thumb, but doesn’t dare.

"I’ll keep ya warm, don’t worry," he answers darkly, thoughts of your sweating, exhausted body flooding his brain. There are so many things he still hasn’t done to you, like letting you suck him off, or fucking you in his lap, your back pressed against his front. A million ways he could have you, will have you, and one by one they come to him as he watches you drink your drink in a bar full of people he knows.

It doesn’t take either of you long to finish your drinks, and Joel knows it’s stupid to leave so soon again, but he can see the way you’re subtly rubbing your thighs together, how your gaze drifts over his arms, his chest, his belly, and he really can’t leave his little girl hanging when she clearly needs him. He plans on making you say it, though he knows it can’t be here.

So the two of you leave after Joel pays, you’re out the door, jackets in hand, before Tommy can stop you. Joel will deal with him later, when he’s gotten this frenzy for you out of his system.

You’re needy, hands clutching his arm as you walk through the cold, and Joel can’t help himself, he puts an arm around you and rests his palm low on your hips, so low it makes you squirm. He strokes you there, teasing you when he knows you can’t do anything about it, and you whine for him, even though you’re in the middle of the street.

"Jesus, kid, pipe down or they’ll have my head," he mutters, and you do your best to stifle any sounds his hand coaxes out of you. Despite what he said, he doesn’t stop teasing until you’re at his doorstep, and he opens the door. He doesn’t waste time kissing you, just slams the door shut and guides you to the sofa, where you lie down on your back immediately.

"Fuck," Joel curses, "look at you, baby. Thought I was gonna have to fuck you right over that barstool, that's how sweet you look."

You moan and your hands grasp at his collar, opening the buttons one by one, trying to get him naked as quickly as possible.

"Needed you so bad, Daddy, and I couldn’t tell you," you admit almost timidly.

"Oh baby," Joel answers, helping you with the buttons, "If you need Daddy to get you off, you tell me and I’ll help you out, alright? We could’ve gone to the bathroom."

His shirt is off now, and starts pulling your dress over your head.

"They would’ve known what we were up to," you breathe, half naked under Joel’s big form, your breasts exposed now.

"Shit, kiddo, they knew already," Joel groans, opening his belt buckle, "'s all over your face how bad you want this cock, bathroom or no bathroom."

You blush at his words, watching him pull down his jeans and boxers with wide eyes, and he can almost taste your desire.

"Don’t worry, baby, I like how much you need it," Joel breathes, and finally kisses you, his practiced fingers finding your panties easily and dragging them down, your hips lifting from the couch to help him.

"Yeah," you breathe against his lips, "Need you all the time, Daddy."

Something in him snaps at this admission, because part of him expects you to run out on him any day, that you’ll snap out of whatever craze you’re in and realize fucking a man almost forty years your senior can’t possibly be what you want – but you never do. You just look at him the way you are now, all doe eyed and docile, like his every whim is your command. It shouldn’t turn him on the way it does, it really shouldn’t. A better man would send you home, a stronger man would admit Tommy is right, but Joel hasn’t been good since the end of the world began, and he’s tired of being strong, so his thick fingers find your clit and he watches in awe how your head falls back, your pretty eyes rolling upwards.

"Say that again, angel," he orders gently, fingers insistent and relentless, building the pressure in your tummy with practiced ease.

"I always need you, Daddy," you whimper, hips bucking on their own accord. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve a sweet thing like you to bury himself into, to want his seed so badly you beg him for it, but he’s done questioning, and pumps his fist over his hard cock a couple of times, watching your face contorted in pleasure.

He aligns himself with your entrance, easing up on your aching clit, because he can sense your orgasm impending, and pushes into the tight heat of your body with a grunt. He stopped being careful several days ago, and although you yelp, your face splits into a satisfied smile when he fills you up, like you really have been waiting for it since the moment he pulled out of you this afternoon.

"Take my cock so well, baby," he mutters, and starts slamming into you. His pace isn’t punishing, but it’s fast and deep, after seeing you among other people, his need to stake his claim over you having grown. He wants to pump you full of his load, have it dripping out of you wherever you go, have it swelling up your belly and making it impossible for anyone to take you away from him. Surely, if you were pregnant, even Tommy would admit it’s best for you two to be together.

He fucks you into the mattress, hips snapping into yours, his belly nudging your body and the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing your clit just right. There’s no need for you to move with him, not when his pace feels so good, when it builds that coil in your stomach so unrelentingly, and soon he can feel the way you flutter and clench, that telltale sign that you’re almost there. Normally he would make you wait for it, tell you to ask for Daddy’s permission, but you were so good at the bar, didn’t want to expose just how badly you needed his cock to stretch you out, so he plans on rewarding you. There’s certain benefits to his age, like the stamina he built over the last four decades.

"Daddy," you cry, your whole body rocking with the impact of his thrusts, and he chuckles.

"'S okay, angel, you let go whenever you want to, but I’m not near done with you."

His hands roam over your body, your pebbled nipples, the column of your throat, your waist. When he presses down on your stomach, feeling himself all the way inside of you, nudging against that spot only he seems to be able to reach, you tip your head back and gush around him, a trembling mess under his big body.

"Goood girl, there we go," he mutters, but doesn’t stop even when it starts to feel like it’s almost too much and your orgasm fades. You don’t ask him to stop either, though he would, if you did. No way he’d harm you, it’s just that you seem to enjoy a little hurt.

He hoists you up and slips out of you briefly, which draws a petulant whine from your throat.

"Easy, baby, just a second," he soothes, and sits you both up so that you’re on his lap, his belly pressed against your back, and his hot breath right at your ear. His voice is so close, it might as well be inside your head.

"There you go, you quit your whinin’," he drawls, and forces his cock back into you. His arms wrap around your torso, holding you to him completely, his hips snapping upwards forcefully, your whole body rocking against his with the impact.

His right hand comes up to your neck, clutching your hair, while his other hand grabs your tit, and you’re helpless to do anything but crane your neck and grasp his large hand with your little one. Your body is overstimulated from your first orgasm, but Joel doesn’t let up, and quickly, he can feel another one building inside of you by the way you clench, the way your cries become a little more breathy.

"Gonna give your Daddy another one, sweet girl? Gonna come on this cock again? Yeah, I think you will, think you’d come as many times as I tell you to," he huffs, the vibrations of his voice sparking goosebumps on your skin.

"Yes, D-daddy," you groan, "as much as you want."

"Go on then, kiddo, let me have it."

He thrusts up particularly hard, his big arms trapping you against his wide body, engulfing you, as you shudder and whine. When you’re done, you go limp against him, barely able to hold yourself up, but Joel’s arms hold you steady, and he mouths at your neck, sucking fresh bruises onto your skin. He marvels at the way you let him fuck you like this, even when you’re spent, and speeds up his thrusts.

"One more and you’re done," he tells you, and you shake your head against him.

"I can’t, Daddy, too much," you whine, but your core clenches and trembles, and Joel knows you have it in you.

"You can take it, baby, come on, one more for Daddy."

It takes a while, this time, your body spent, but Joel has no trouble holding off spilling his seed inside of you. If he really wanted to, he could probably make you come five times before he did himself, but he wants so badly to paint your insides with his load, to have it take and watch your belly swell. And anyway, he can just fuck you again in a couple of hours, if his age allows it. The past days, you woke up in the middle of the night and begged him for it.

"Need me to talk to you?", Joel asks, when you whine and splutter, but don’t come, and you nod frantically.

"Yes you do, angel, course you do. Just listen to Daddy’s voice, alright? Doin’ so well, takin’ everythin’ I give you."

His thrusts are slower now, but deeper, grazing your cervix, his hand still clutching your hair so that your throat is exposed.

"You’re really something, baby, lettin’ an old man like me fuck you like this," he rambles, not really sure why he’s bringing up his age when surely it will make you see sense, but if anything, your whines grow louder, like his age is turning you on.

"You like that? You like letting and old man fuck you full of his cum?"

Your sweet pussy flutters around him at the mention of him filling you up, and he almost comes. His jaw is slack, mouth bumping into your neck with every thrust.

"Not an old man, Daddy," you whimper, "just you."

Joel’s hips stutter for a moment, but he quickly regains control over his rhythm.

"That’s right, baby, only I get to cum inside of you," he groans, "You want it?"

You nod, a weak twitch of your head, and usually he’d make you use your words, but you’re limp and exhausted, so he decides to let it slide.

"Alright baby, you can have it as soon as you come again for Daddy."

He can feel you actually put an effort into it, the muscles in your stomach clenching and unclenching, and the idea of you wanting his load that bad makes him curse. He can feel your body tense, can hear the way your breathing grows shallow, and then you’re crying, a real sob tearing through your chest, as you come on his cock for the third time.

He wants to praise you for it, but he just keeps punching into you, feeling your hot tears drop onto his hand and making a sick satisfaction pool in his stomach, and then he’s clutching you to his body tightly, burying himself inside of you as deeply as possible, and white hot pleasure erupts behind his eyes as his cock twitches and coats your inside with his spent. He fucks it up into you, imagines the effect it might have if he does it often enough.

You’re weak in his arms when he pulls out of you, your eyes closed, and he gently lets the two of you sink into the couch, your legs automatically wrapping around his thigh. He can feel himself drip out of you. Next time he vows to let you sleep with his cock still inside of you, so that there’s no way you won’t fall pregnant.

"Good girl," he whispers into your hair, and even in your exhausted haze, you smile, mouth half slack. He tugs you close to him, his hands tracing patterns on your skin.

Tommy is not right, he thinks, it cannot be wrong to feel as happy as he feels, as happy as you look, tucked against him and dripping onto his thigh.