#he looks so good with that hair and that suit

[tartppola]

This is just basic observation but, I love how modern japan is depicted in a very standard anime color scheme, the backgrounds and buildings are also very typical anime style

and then when you get to NRC!!! the BURST of COLORSSS ughhh!!! I love how the night scene has purple undertones, given that it's the entrance ceremony and the secondary colors of the ceremonial robes is purple and gold.

like. comparing the above shots of yuuken to these ones. hes so ourpole, I do also love how exasperated he is when he's stuck in twst, it's been a while since i've read the Heartslabyul manga but i think he emotes a lot more in this trailer compared to the manga chapter equivalent.

and u can tell these backgrounds are very much trying to emulate the backgrounds in twst!! like look at how blocky the clouds are AGHSGHGHF but!! they also made it more detailed instead of making it just purely blocks/shapes like in the game, which tbh is a really good decision cus if the background art looked too similar to the games', it'd clash too much with the characters imo

the key art of all the housewardens is also soooo sososo beautuful, and the color design of the anime has got to be my favorite part of it!!! bcs AOUGHHH I LOVEEEEE how nicely saturated everything is!! All the complimentary colors they gave on the HSB crew's hair is also so neato I love how Deuce's and Trey's are very clearly inspired from their ingame chibi sprites. The blues in Ace's and Caters hair is also sooo sososo delicious, the soft pink/purple on Riddle also suits him very nicely!

if i could!! express just 1 fear!! the trailer footage likely only contains episode one.. maybe we'll get a second trailer with later episodes, but we'll see. anyways!! i'm so excited for it!!!

[ernest-rimmingway]

⭐a Helping Hand⭐

tags: [mdni][mlw][handjob][male orgasm][tip teasing][brief ass play (on him)][established relationship][msub][petnames][overstimulation]

Mark loves the way you give handjobs.

He can't do anything other than adore the way your delicate hand grabs the chubby base of him, fingers brushing along pulsing veins that throb and he feels the way his muscles tense beneath his suit.

He knows he's just supposed to show up, tell you he's okay but you're always looking at him with those soft, adoring eyes. Hands cradling his face and when you press your lips against his, the taste of your lipbalm seems to turn his brain into mush and he nods weakly.

Murmuring the sweetest "uh-huh" when you carefully pry his goggles from his face, discarding his mask and ushering him to sit down on the edge of your bed.

Mark feels the way your chest presses against his back, the fabric of your clothing does nothing to hide your pebbled nipples, and he hyperfixates on you.

He looks down at your hand as you stroke his cock, translucent beads of precum rolling onto your hand but you're too preoccupied whispering.

"I saw how you saved those people." You whisper softly. "You're such a good hero, baby."

You coo and you pander. Your sweet words a gentle balm to his bruised body, and even more bruised spirit.

You press kisses along the side of his neck, listening as he talks about his day, stuttering through meaningless details like he's not fucking up into your hand.

Mark's hands move to grasp at your thighs, pulling them around him and he shifts, cock throbbing in your grasp and he leans back against you.

You're always so warm.

Always so attentive that you know just when to slide your finger over his tip, tracing that leaky divot until Mark's eyes go cross and his blunt nails dig into your skin.

"Oh... God.." Mark whines, shifting and he presses his face into your neck.

You smell like you just showered. Fresh, clean and so, so warm. You smell sweet. A mixture that he can't quite place, but he loves it enough to breathe it in.

He's trying not to cum too quickly. His climax rapidly approaching because while you're stroking his aching cock, your other hand has spit-slicked fingers, pressing against that sensitive spot just behind his full balls. And he whines.

"Fuck, you're gon—gonna make me c-cum..."

He breathes out your name, panting each syllable like he's praying to you and in a way, he is.

He's praying for you to take away the stress, to ease his mind, and to make him feel so good that he's seeing stars when he goes back out to patrol.

But Mark always forgets you take things just a bit too far.

And he forgets the walls are thin.

So when he eventually starts hiccuping, puppy dog eyes getting blearier and he's whining, rutting into your hand... He gets loud.

Overstimulated, with cum strewn across your hands, his belly and his thighs, Mark's sounds become unhinged whimpers. Choked moans and mewls, whimpering 'please baby's that fall from his lips with the ease that Mozart wrote symphonies...

And you're covering his mouth, pressing your lips against his temple.

And you coo.

"The walls are thin, baby." You remind softly.

"You don't want everyone to hear you, do you?"

Mark doesn't know his left from his right, right now, but he knows one thing:

He definitely doesn't wanna be heard. Not by your neighbours, not by heroes not by anyone, except you.

So Mark shakes his head, mumbling the cutest 'no' before shifting.

He braces his sock-covered feet on the edges of your bed, muscular thighs spread and he uses the change in position to keep fucking up into your hand.

All while the hand that covers his mouth moves south so slowly, nails dragging along his tensing abs, scratching at that dark patch of hair and his back arches so sluttily when you cup his balls.

"...s-s-s'too much, baby." Mark sputters, biting down on his bottom lip. His eyes are teary, his lips are raw bitten and he's drooling. Copious amounts of precum drip from him and he's not even sure if he's cumming.

But his body tenses when he feels one of your dainty, manicured fingers slowly trace that furled entrance. And he gasps, letting out a whimper.

"N—not...s'there..." He whines, but he's not pushing your hand away.

Not in the slightest.

"I'm not going inside, baby." You reassure softly. "We're just gonna see how it feels, okay?"

And Mark nods.

You could ask him anything right now and he'd nod his head. So in love and so, so, so desperate for you that he might actually give you a lung if you asked for it.

And Mark feels the way his cock throbs.

One finger repeatedly rubbing at his swollen and reddish tip, while another teases his virgin hole.

And he swallows.

You always take it too far. But that's what Mark likes.

You challenge him. You guide him. And God, does that not make his cock leak onto your hands, his thighs covered in fluids. And he pants.

"M'almost there..." He whimpers. "..again.."

And he hides his face in your neck.

Raven strands are tousled, his body prickles with goosebumps and droplets of sweat trail in the carvings created by heavily toned muscle.

"I— I... I can t—take it..."

[sobbingscripter]

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼wc. 2085🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆

“What’re you doing here?”

Mark mumbles, brows knitting in confusion, tugging his goggles and tossing them onto the kitchen counter, watching as you tip your head back, emptying out your glass of water.

He shouldn’t be getting hard in this suit.

It’s skin tight. He’s surprised that there isn’t even much of a print. And he’s smart enough to know he’s not the problem.

So instead of watching the way your throat bobs as you swallow, he turns his attention towards the counter, admiring the natural detail as he taps his fingers on the surface, waiting for you to answer.

“I did your mom’s hair.” You answer, before taking a good long look at Mark’s suit, reaching for his wrist and you tug him out from behind the counter and you carefully examine his suit.

“Damn, no print?” You snort with laughter. “Guess you’re more human than I thought.”

Mark’s hands move to hide his crotch from your view, cheeks flushing a deep red and he scoffs.

“Fuck you, the suit just doesn’t show it.” Mark defends but he knows it’s pointless. You’d argue over anything and win. Even if the better half of your argument would be pure bullshit.

“Then how come your dad has a print?”

And Mark grimaces.

“Don’t look at my dad’s dick.”

“I’m not looking at your dad’s dick.”

“How do you know he has a print?”

“How DON’T you know?”

“Because I don’t look at my father’s penis!” Mark hisses and Nolan snorts as he walks into the kitchen, blue eyes lowered to his wrist as he clasps the Rolex into place.

“I hope not.” Before he places a muscular hand on Mark’s shoulder, giving his son an affectionate squeeze. “There’s no shame in being a grower, Mark. I was a grower when I was your age too.”

Mark’s lips curl into a disgusted frown, staring up at Nolan from beneath his brows.

“I hate this conversation. Please make it stop.”

Debbie’s heels click on the wooden floorboards, and Mark’s heart melts at the sight of his mother all dolled up. Long, black hair taken down from a and instead, framing her face with pretty curtain bangs and curled edges.

“How do I look?” Debbie shifts, tugging her dress into place.

“You look beautiful, Mom.” Mark coos, dimples deepening in his cheeks and you watch with soft eyes as Nolan presses a kiss against Debbie’s cheek. Lips brush against her ear as he whispers something intelligible and Mark groans.

“Dad, ew.” Mark gags. “Never say that again.”

“Your mother deserves to know I’m aroused, Mark. It’s how we show our love.”

Your nearly choke on your saliva, brows raised and you clear your throat. “So, this is where I leave.”

“I’m spending the night at your place.” Mark grunts. “I don’t need to hear any more than I’ve already heard.”

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“Why would you give my mother curtain bangs? You know what they do to men.” Mark whines, as he steps out of your bathroom, a steamy mist following him out and you glance up from the screen of your phone.

Before staring at him.

“Damn it, Mark. You’re stretching out my shirt!”

Mark stands in the centre of your room, arms crossed over his broad chest, stretching out your cropped shirt. On you, it’s a sliver of belly. Not even your belly button is exposed.

But on Mark, it’s just below his belly button. Exposing that thin, dark strip of hair from his belly button, to where it disappears behind the waistband of your Powerpuff Girls nightpants.

“Don’t be selfish. You’ve got a shit ton of other shirts.” Mark huffs, glancing at himself in the full length mirror right beside your vanity, visibly checking himself out.

“And you could’ve picked any of them.” You frown before gasping. Mark raises his arms, flexing and you can hear the seams threaten to rip with each bulge of his muscles.

“Markus!” His neck snaps to face you so fast.

“Don’t fucking rip my shirt. I swear, I’ll tell your mom you nutted on your sheets in 7th grade and you came to wash them at my house because you were embarrassed. And then you made me wash them by hand because you wanted to be eco friendly.”

Mark’s eye narrow. “You wouldn’t.”

But his arms are lowering and it isn’t long until he’s crawling beneath your sheets, tossing an arm over your belly and resting his cheek against your shoulder. Sharp eyes focused on the screen of your phone, as you continue to scroll through your TikTok For You page.

“I wanna watch fidget board videos.” Mark mumbles, breath ghosting over the soft, creamy skin exposed by the wide neckline of your shirt and he pulls you closer, one of his thighs moving to slot between yours, his leg hooking around one of yours.

“Watch them on your own phone.” You grumble, but you’re already swiping, heading towards the search bar. “My phone’s charging.”

You don’t know how long you and Mark are staring at your screen, shrouded in darkness but you’re hyperaware of when his hand slides under your shirt, fingers tracing lazy patterns on the soft, sensitive skin of your belly. And you swallow. Before glancing at him.

He's not even paying attention.

Even breaths slip from his lips, enraptured by the way acrylic nails drag along beaded surfaces, open and close the caps of serums and Mark looks up at you through his lashes.

You watch as his pupils dilate, his puffy cheeks rosy with sleep and he’s fingers stop tracing those little infinities on your belly and he swallows. And you swallow. And he swallows. His eyes dart towards your lips and he takes a deep breath.

God.

Bad idea.

You’re in his lungs, you’re all he can feel, all he can smell and he’s so enamoured by you. And his hand shifts, fingertips dipping just past your waistband. And his fingers brush against the elastic trimming of your panties.

Mark thinks you’re so beautiful when you’re looking at him the way you are.

The pictures of your phone reflect off your pupil, and your pouty lips let out hot puffs of breath that fan over him just enough. And your pretty hair’s obscured by a bonnet. He can’t remember when you haven’t slept with them on and it’s like a part of you.

God, the way the light plays off the silk makes his brain fuzzy.

“You’re really pret—”

“Am I the asshole for having sex with my stepbrother at my dead grandmother’s wake?”

Your collective focus shifts back to the device, attention focused on the way Mahjong pieces are formed while you listen intently to whatever Reddit story you’ve found yourself on. Completely enthralled.

“That piece looks really pre— Wait, shit, did they get nut on the corpse?” Your eyes widen, and you shift just a bit.

“I don’t know, the subtitles cut off. Go back.” Mark instructs, his eyes focused and brows knitted.

“It doesn’t have that option.”

“Wha— what TikTok do you have?”

“Lite.”

And Mark groans.

“I’m embarrassed for you, you cheap ass.”

“I needed to save space, Mark.”

“But you’ve got all the megabytes of regular Pinterest, huh?”

“Pinterest is important. You know it helps me organise my wants and needs in life.”

“Gay.”

And you stare at Mark, eyes narrowing. But before your lips can even part to let out an insult, Mark’s phone beeps on the dresser and he glances towards the device.

“Bank robbery on 8th.” Mark’s already lifting himself, letting out an exhausted huff as he pulls the shirt overhead, and you watch, entranced by the way his muscles move beneath his skin. Rippling with each movement of his lips and your eyes follow the curve of his spine.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” Mark tugs on his suit, the elastic waistband of his boxers disappearing behind a flurry of blue and yellow, and he leans down, pressing a messy kiss against the side of your ace. “Don’t scroll too far. And check the doors!”

Mark’s disappearing out the window before you can say anything, wind whipping around him and you swallow.

He kissed you on the corner of your mouth.

And Mark only realises when he can taste the hint of coconut-flavoured lipbalm and his flight nearly falters.

And he grins. Dorky and so fucking adorably.

“Nothing can ruin my night.”

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌻🥀🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

Something did, in fact, ruin Mark’s night.

Mark sirs in your tub, hands obscuring his crotch from view as you pour yet another cup of baking soda in the hot water of his bath and he clears his throat. He’s hoping that this is the time the earth swallows him whole, his knees poking out the frothy surface of the water and his ears burn a bright, blushing red before he coughs.

“I didn’t know it was a skunk guy…” Mark murmurs quietly, and you don’t say anything, simply throwing in another cup for good measure.

“Mark, my house smells like the inside of a skunk’s asshole.” You huff and he flinches before glancing up at you.

Your brows knitting into a frown, your hand submerged beneath the water as you make the solution froth just a bit more. And you glare at Mark as you rise to your feet, your attention moving towards the porcelain basin instead. Where his suit is soaking in a mixture of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda and dish soap.

And you sit on the closed toilet lid, arms crossed over your chest as you lean back against the cistern, watching as Mark soaks even further into the water. And you let out a heavy sigh.

“Are you okay?”

And Mark’s lips curl at the corners, a cute, sheepish smile donning his face and he nods his head. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

You don’t wanna seem… Unhappy that he’s well and you know, ungrateful that he’s alive but you kinda wish he was slapped around a little bit.

And you let out a heavy sigh. No you don’t.

“Your goggles don’t smell.” You hum, drying the plastic with a fluffy towel before you slip them on, eyes narrowing and you examine the slight tint that they give the world around you. And your lips purse.

“So, these keep the wind out of your eyes?” You question, brows knitting because the tightness of the goggles feel a bit weird. But that’s probably because they’re made to fit his face.

“Uh…Uhm… Yeah, they k-keep the wind out my eyes.”

And Mark is CLUTCHING his shit.

Cheeks burning a rosy red that he hopes he can chalk up to the heat of the because goddamn, he’s so fucking painfully hard.

Just at the sight of you wearing his goggles and his mind is piecing together how you’d look in his suit.

“Uh— can you- Uhm… Can you leave? I need to pee.” Mark tries hard not to sputter over his words, but the way you look in his goggles is making his brain fuzzy. And he swallows, murmuring the softest ‘thank you’, when you get up, your footsteps quiet against the tiled floor before you shut the door behind you.

“Save me a cup!” You chirp and he groans. “Ew, you’re so gross!”

Mark swallows. Before looking around your bathroom, resting back against the edge of the tub and he lets out a heavy breath, glancing towards your ceiling.

“M’so fucked…” He groans quietly before glancing towards his lap, and he looks towards your laundry hamper. A pretty faux basket, plastic strips weaved and decorated with little plastic flowers.

And Mark’s brows knit into a little frown, a low moan leaving his lips.

“No… Mark, don’t do it…” He mumbles under his breath but he’s already leaning over the edge of the tub, reaching into your hamper and pulling out the first pair of panties he feels.

A pretty purple pair, lace trimmings and surprisingly wide gusset. But then again, he knows you’d never play with that pussy lip slip bullshit.

Mark swallows, staring down at the cotton and lace before he brings it to his nose, fisting his cock beneath the water.

“God, I’m disgusting.”

T🌼A🌼G🌼L🌼I🌼S🌼T

@lucky-beheaded ; @queen-of-gotham ; @coldvirginbitch ; @wittyjasontodd ; @a-n-a-n-a1 ; @dearlyya ; @broicouldjustbuyyousomekombucha ; @jasontoddswhitestreak ; @daydreams-and-peace ; @misstyy12 ; @fruticake ; @httpstes ; @waterflowersblog ; @glowinthedarkjellyfish ; @vm4879bb-blog ; @monaekelis ; @radlovesfics ; @allycat4458 ; @bigbodycity ; @feral010 ; @anesthesia-4rizzle ; @princesstrunkz ; @blackfox774 ; @sh1d0uryus31 ; @your-lovely-rose26 ; @slugstarzz ; @ripcolel0l ; @strawbiemilk420 ; @verysynical ; @kikiiguess ; @missam ; @luvvfromme ; @luvvcharxo ; @alma-ru3 ; @mxvoid26 ; @urfriendlyfrog ; @the-good-kooshe ; @troublesome-nara ; @secretaccountlol ; @syubseokie; @atanukileaf ; @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere

[stuffandthangsandangelwings]

Eddie nods, tearing up again. " I....I did. I got them. I saved everything." He shakes his head. " I've been so stupid....I'm glad you like it. I've taken care of the house. I kept up the lawn, and I didn't change anything inside. Well--I added a bit of my own taste and Wayne's room of course. But your bedroom is the same---I uh--It hurt too much to go in there. Though, that's my fault."

Eddie moved, taking her hand. He kissed her palm. His hair is much shorter than when they had parted ways. He'd also wasn't clean shaven anymore, having a little facial hair. But it suited him. He looked good, handsome--and strong--despite laying in a hospital bed.

" All I can think about is how I left things with you....I'm so happy for you. And so proud of you. But I gotta say I regret everything on my end. The life you have--those beautiful kids. It could have been ours." He said softly.

Can’t Breathe

“You know,  you can use the front door,” Fannie called to Eddie from her bedroom window. “We’re not kids anymore…besides, you’re useless to me dead or injured.” She flashed him a sweet smile, excited to see him. The summer was winding down and she was getting ready to head back to classes. In fact, she should have left last week, but the idea of leaving him again was too much. They’d always been friendly during school, but when she ran into him over winter break her freshman year, something changed. 

Maybe it was being away from Hawkins, actually being able to be herself without feeling like she was constantly being compared to the other girls in town. Maybe it was getting out of her head, and getting the courage to say more than hi to him. Whatever “it” was, this thing between them had grown to be more for her. But she doubted he would ever see her as more than a friend with benefits, another notch on his belt. But gods, when she looked at him, he was all she could see. All it would take was him asking her to stay, and she would. Even if it only meant there was a slight chance there could be something more.

@stuffandthangsandangelwings

[iamthatonefangirl]

miss possessive - congressman bucky barnes

okay not my best work, i swear i have like nine drafts i've come up with in a week, none of them good enough to post.

this is inspired by miss possessive by tate mcrae even though i completely lost sight of the song really quickly

part 2

~~~

you really had no right to be so jealous.

you watched him from across the floor, sipping on your flute of champagne. you'd grabbed it off of one of those waiters' trays as they were walking about the room.

it tasted like shit. you didn't like the taste of wine, and it wasn't even enough to get you drunk.

you knew this kind of event was difficult for him to sit through, but hey, he made his choice going into politics.

you watched as he made his rounds, speaking to various donors and attempting to charm them. you watched as all their wives fawned over your-

no.

you watched as all their wives fawned over him, bringing him in for a hug instead of a handshake. of course they were interested; he was the best looking man here. yes, he was the oldest man in the room, but appeared to be the youngest and was, regardless, easily the most attractive. and all the thirty-some wives of the cranky old rich white men wanted him.

it pissed you off. not that you had the right to be pissed, but. oh well. you're just a girl.

after two flutes of champagne, you watch as one of the donors receives a phone call, leaving his wife with Bucky. ever the gentleman, he would never leave a woman all by herself in a room full of sharks who might try to snatch her up. 

Bucky was very much a different man than he was in the forties, of course. doesn't mean he lost the ability to attract every woman in the room.

you can't stand idly by as she puts his hands all over him, and he can't take his eyes off of her. no, of course he would never go for a married woman. what he did know, though, was that if he pissed her off, her husband wouldn't donate to his campaign.

you roll your eyes and decide it's time for some hard liquor.

you hide in the corner of the room, drinking your much stronger beverage as fast as possible. no, getting drunk at a professional event isn't the best idea, but what do you care. you're not the star of the show.

he is.

he's the brilliant ex-POW who's turned his entire life around in a whole new century. he's the gorgeous soldier who not only survived, but is also electing to do something meaningful with his life. 

he's the star tonight.

he's the star of every thought you have of your future, but that can't possibly come to surface now. it's not the time or place. 

watching him entertain this woman truly boils your blood, but at least you have some actual alcohol in your system now. you no longer feel the need to justify why her hands on his pristine suit makes you want to grab her by the diamonds around her neck and yank her off of him. you can justify your desire to grab him by the tie to pull him away from her and yell at him for not focusing on what's important. 

you bite your tongue. you knew it was all a ploy.

doesn't mean you had to like it. 

~~~

while you stand at the bar waiting for your second beverage of the evening, a man comes up next to you, and the bartender takes his drink order. 

you give him a small, awkward smile as you briefly make eye contact. you're kind of shocked: he's definitely the only man in this room who appears to be younger than 60, Bucky excluded.

you almost startle when he speaks up, introducing himself. Michael, he says his name is.

you turn to actually face him this time. roughly 40, plenty taller than you, and brown hair sprinkled with some greys in there. your perfect type. you quietly tell yourself you're done drinking–no way you're gonna fuck this up. if you weren't so mad about Bucky's new admirer, you might be a tad less inclined to speak to him, but… 

you step closer as you give him a real smile and introduce yourself.

"so, correct me if I'm wrong, but something tells me you're here alone tonight," he begins, indicating to your left hand. no ring. 

you laugh a little. 

"you would be correct," you tell him. "I could say the same about you."

he smiles back at you. it's so beautiful you forget all about your boss and the woman he's now got on his arm as he continues to walk around–

well. you almost forget. good enough.

"you would also be correct."

you explain why you're here, you work for one of the candidates. although, you don't tell him who, exactly. he explains why he's here, one of the patrons. you have to pry the information out of him, but you appreciate it: he's trying to talk to you without flashing his money in your face. it's noble, you think.

you eventually learn he's interested in actually getting to know the candidates' campaigns, not just what they think they can offer him in return for his money.

"you know, I would be happy to learn more about your boss' campaign. from one of the people who probably understands it best," he tells you. you're slightly taken aback for a moment, not aware this was a business interaction. you never even told him who your boss was, so it was confusing, to say the least.

you felt stupid for thinking he was actually interested, for thinking that he was flirting with you.

"oh, of course-" you begin to tell him, but he interjects, "after I take you out, perhaps?"

your smile perks back up subconsciously. so you didn't have it wrong.

"I would love that," you tell him, carefully taking the lapels of his jacket into your hands. you feel his hands come to your waist, and it's like a jolt of energy runs up your spine.

you look closer and almost flip your shit as you see his eyes up close. they're Bucky's eyes. he's not Bucky, sadly, but. 

you're fucked.

"maybe dinner can happen... another time?" you offer, hoping he gets the hint. you realize you probably look like a whore throwing yourself at him like this.

he chuckles. "I've got a room upstairs, if you'd like to come have drinks instead of dinner."

hell yes. you're gonna score tonight, even if it's not with the man you dream about with your hands between your legs every night-

"I would," you say, and bite your tongue. "I just... have to stick around until this thing is over. yeah?"

he nods and steps back. "I suppose I should also do what I came here for," he chuckles. "I'll come find you later?"

you smile and you feel your face go pink. "sounds good."

you can't help the fact that your gaze reverts immediately back to your boss the second the man walks off. Bucky hasn't spared you a single glance all evening, but the second you look back at him this time, you're suddenly staring into his beautiful eyes. 

he holds eye contact with you for what feels like an eternity. his expression is muted, no real emotion showing. maybe... curiosity?

of course he's not going to look mad, or upset, or jealous. you have to stop thinking he'd ever look at you with anything other than pure professionalism.

because he's everything. and you're just a kid, lost in the world, desperately in love with your boss, and everything is fucking falling apart around you.

at least you've got a rich, hot, older man ready to fuck you tonight.

~~~

you kept to your word to yourself and didn't drink for the rest of the night, although you continued hovering at the bar for the semblance of safety it provided.

you continued staring at Bucky for the next two hours. the clingy woman's husband had, in fact, returned and took her away from Bucky. clearly, she was pissed, but tried to hide it. you had to bite back a smirk.

he didn't look back at you once for the rest of the evening.

eventually, the crowd dies down. you realize that now, you have to explain to your boss that you won't be riding back to the office with him, effectively telling him your exact plans for the rest of the night. embarrassing!

you're almost ready to bite the bullet and bid Bucky a good night, scanning the room for him, when you hear a voice from behind you. 

"we still on for drinks?"

you plaster a smile on your face as you turn around to the man standing behind you.

"absolutely," you say, taking his hands. "lead the way."

you begin to follow the man, telling yourself to try and remember to shoot your boss a text to 'not worry about you' before getting your clothes torn off by this man who's currently whisking you away.

you get into the elevator with him, what's his name, you think? oh, Michael, and yank him in hard, crashing your mouths together, putting all of your energy into how badly you need this.

you're startled by the sound of a clanging of metal, ripping your mouth away from the man's and turning to face the noise.

well, apparently, you were too eager and stupid enough to not wait for the elevator doors to entirely shut, because you see now that the noise was a result of Bucky's vibranium arm grabbing the elevator door. he pushes it open and steps inside, eyes piercing daggers through you the whole time.

you stand there, appalled. the man gently pulls away from you, reaching out a hand to attempt to shake Bucky's hand.

"Mr. Barnes, it's a pleasure," he begins. "my apologies for this... less than ideal meeting."

Bucky doesn't even look at the man, eyeing you up and down, taking in your smudged lipstick and the way your dress is slightly out of place.

the man attempts once more to interject. "Mr. Barnes, please, don't worry about her. why don't us men go back downstairs and have a real discussion? I'd love to hear more about your campaign."

wait. why do his words sound like they're throwing you under the bus, almost?

Bucky notices it, too, you realize. he tilts his head in the man's direction before actually averting his gaze to look at him.

"and leave the lady all by herself?" he asks.

"don't worry about that. she's... inconsequential. if you and I can just go back downstairs and–"

"what did you just say?" Bucky asks. you swear he doesn't look like your boss anymore, but someone... else.

the man is taken aback by Bucky's demeanor. his mouth gapes like an idiot.

"you do know this is my assistant, right?" Bucky asks him. the man's face goes pale as the pieces slot together in his head.

"Mr. Barnes, my apologies, truly," he says.

you just stand there feeling more stupid than ever. inconsequential? wow, okay. you almost don't even care that he's dismissing your entire existence, but you can't stand the fact that he's doing it in front of Bucky. you care more about what Bucky thinks of you than literally anyone else, and now? now he's going to see you as a fucking slut who isn't even good enough for a man to commit to for one night.

god, you're pathetic.

"shouldn't you be apologizing to her?" Bucky grits.

the elevator doors open to the man's floor, and he mumbles a sorry under his breath as he runs out.

great. not only do you look pathetic in front of your boss, but you're not getting fucked tonight, either. just great.

the doors shut behind Bucky, who has now returned his gaze to you. you wonder if he's going to press the button to go back to the lobby.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Mr. Barnes," you say, swallowing your embarrassment as you stand up straight and adjust your dress.

he just stares at you.

"what?" you ask.

"are you okay?" he asks, and he looks genuinely concerned.

you know he cares about you, you're his assistant, after all. but that's it.

"fine," you assure him, and begin to reach behind him to press the button to take you back down to the lobby.

he gently grabs your wrist before you can.

you look at him, confused. you know your face says it all.

"Mr.–" you begin.

"Bucky," he corrects.

"can I press the button, Mr. Barnes?"

he still hasn't let go of your wrist. you feel stupid for enjoying the feel of his metal hand against your skin, for getting to feel a part of him that's real.

"you know, you clearly picked out the worst of the men here tonight," he observes.

you roll your eyes and pull your wrist away from him before you do something stupid.

"are you kidding? this place was riddled with capitalist billionaires and politicians. like you," you say, smirking.

he chuckles a little.

you can't help yourself, though. can't let it go unsaid.

"clearly you had some interested parties of your own tonight."

he rolls his eyes and finally turns away from you, pressing the button for the lobby. you let out a quiet sigh of relief. being in this elevator any longer, with him? that would just about kill you.

"you noticed that, huh?" he asks.

"who didn't?" you mumble. but of course, he's not just a politician, he's an enhanced, so he hears it.

"look, I knew she was married, I was never going to-" he begins to explain, but you cut him off.

"oh, I don't care what she does in her own fucked-up marriage."

oh my god. what did you just say? did you just admit to the fact that the only reason you did care was because she was fawning over Bucky?

fuck.

the elevator doors open, and you rush out.

you can hear the smirk on his face as he trails after you.

"so, you were really going to sleep with that guy, huh?" he teases.

you stop in your tracks. most everyone has left by now, leaving only you and Bucky in the room aside from the clean-up crew. you turn back to face him.

"can we just go?"

he nods and calls for the car to come around.

~~~

twenty minutes, you remind yourself.

in twenty minutes, you'll have made it back to the office, and you can go get in your own car and take yourself back to your own place and you won't have to be sitting thigh to thigh with your boss in the back of a limo that would totally be hot to fuck in-

he clears his throat, and you turn your head to face him.

"what that guy said..." he begins. you roll your eyes in anger at the reminder. you didn't even care he said it, you just wish he hadn't said it in front of Bucky.

you wave your hand as though waving off the thought, and waving off Bucky's concern. but it doesn't quite work like that.

"you're not inconsequential."

he says it with such a conviction you feel it deep in your bones, in the very core of your being. he sounds so authentic that it almost hurts.

a million thoughts swirl in your head. you could say i know, you could get defensive, you could say thanks, Bucky...

a better one pops in your head.

"how did you know where I was? you didn't see me all evening."

the limo stops moving. the driver rolls down the divider to grumble something about traffic at this hour? before rolling it back up again.

great. now it's going to take even longer to get home to your vibrator.

Bucky sees the interruption as a way to drop the matter. you press it.

"Mr. Barnes?"

"god, would you stop calling me that?"

you see him turn away from you to look out the window, biting his lip and rubbing his forehead. you've now frustrated him, and he's mad at you. this is good. it's easier for you to deal with him being angry at you than him being nice to you.

you know he just wants you to call him Bucky, but you're a smartass.

"yeah, okay, sorry. Sergeant Barnes," you mumble, smirking to yourself.

he about flips his shit. why is he getting so worked up?

"seriously?" he asks, turning back to you. his eyes are blown back, in anger, probably. not lust, like you wish they were. because you're just a stupid kid, and he's just your boss with a lifetime of trauma. you could never understand him the way you wanted to.

"what?" you say, biting your lip as you smile, continuing to tease him.

you swear that for a second, he glances down to your lips.

SHIT!

in that embarrassing moment, you realize your lipstick is still smudged across your face from the moment in the elevator. your heart rate shoots up as you bury your head in your chest, bringing your hand to wipe away the mess of your face, before turning to face the opposite way from him.

you are, well and truly, stuck in traffic. some concert, or sports game, or whatever...

which means you're stuck, pressed up against your boss, in the back of this tiny limo right now, for only god knows how much longer.

you're pulling your phone out of your clutch when he says your name.

you want to lean into the feeling, how smooth it is. how crisp his voice is, how pretty it sounds saying your name, as though he's genuinely paying you any attention whatsoever.

"you're not inconsequential."

it flares your anger, all of it coming up from your gut and into your throat, as you respond.

"god, would you forget it already?" you snap.

shit, shit, shit. you fucked up. you just snapped at your boss, of all people. you try to backtrack, throw out a million comments of "sorry," but that's it, you're getting fired.

you finally look back at him, and he's actually looking at you. like, it feels like he's staring into your soul, seeing all the pieces of you that you're trying to keep hidden from him.

the car begins moving again.

~~~

he watches you, trying to figure you out, as always.

he can't think of a better word for it than the fact that you genuinely amuse him.

he sees the look in your eyes, the way you're desperately trying to cover up the shame you feel over what happened in the elevator. he's trying to be gentle about it, trying to assure you that what the man said was utter bullshit, but you keep shutting him down.

god, and you look so...

no. you're, like, 80-plus years younger than him (he rubs his temples every time he remembers his age) and employed by him. any interest on his part would be purely inappropriate, a gross misuse of his position of power.

and god, his fucking age, man. he shouldn't even be around anymore-

anyways.

you look at him with those fucking doe eyes, going back and forth between anger, and shame, and something else he can't quite pinpoint.

this is probably the worst part of what happened. you're always so unapologetically yourself, but he can tell this man has gotten under your skin.

even if it's not his job to comfort you, he doesn't want you to feel like that. because who you are is perfect. 

~~~

one minute, you're staring into his eyes, trying to read the look on his face. 

the next, you're bracing yourself as the car spins out of control, feeling hit after hit of various cars all crashing into you sequentially.

you don't register it until after it's all over. the way he's wrapped himself around you as though to protect you. his flesh arm cradles your head to his chest and his vibranium hand wraps itself around the back of your neck.

you take a few deep breaths and begin to pull away from him, looking up to his face as you do. his eyes widen in shock as he looks at you. what? what is it?

"fuck, we gotta get you to a hospital." 

~~~

part 2 out NOW 3/23/25

masterlist

tag list

tagged: @clavedelune

[soldiersgirl]

SEE ME AFTER CLASS .ᐟ

summary ⭑ good girls are bad girls that haven't been caught and the professor is about to teach his favourite student a very important lesson on responsibility. (part one found here.) cw ⭑ pornstar!reader x pornstar!soldier boy. payback era. 18+ smut (mdni). porn with some plot. corny porn names. mean soldier boy. veiled threats. professor x uni student dynamic. manipulation. kissing. finger sucking. light slapping. sir kink. spanking. degradation. praise. dirty talk. begging. shoe shining (?). protected p in v (safe sex work is important). doggy. choking with tie. name calling (slut, whore, doll, dollface, teacher's pet). female masturbation. cumming on face. swallowing. word count ⭑ 4,567 words (lmao)

honestly, you thought you would never see him again. sure, it was... fun to work with him that one time and you really thought that it would be a one-time thing. you never really understood, or dared to question, how vought thought this would help soldier boy's image, but you were proven wrong immediately. sales for soldier boy merch sky-rocketed and similarly, the sales of your previous works on VHS went flying off the shelves. the people loved you together and each fan-mail you received were begging for you to reunite. you tried for months to put it off, wanting to keep the creative control over your own career. but with vought's offers becoming more lucrative, more rewarding, you couldn't deny them or him any longer.

and here you found yourself. on another set, in another dress that was too short for your own good and another smirking soldier boy standing behind you as you got your make-up touched up and hair styled to perfection in two cute pigtails. you brushed away the stylist and you frowned at yourself in the mirror as soldier boy reached forward and tugged on your 'tails before letting out a wry chuckle. you twisted around in your chair and gave him a scowl that naturally formed whenever he was around, but it quickly turned into surprise. he was devoid of his usual supe-suit and instead a tight white shirt hugged his muscled chest with a dark-green tie nestled around his neck and round frames perched on his tall bridged nose. he tilts his head, smirking like he knows exactly what you're thinking, gazing at you over his glasses.

"ready to be taught a lesson?"

"i'm ready for this to be over already." you sneer before turning back around, just catching his smirk faltering. "still got that monstrosity you call a moustache, huh?" you nod towards his infamous pornstache, still trimmed and styled to perfection. he would have it no other way.

"god, i had forgotten how much of you bitch you were." he hums before leaning down behind you and gazing into the mirror, much like the first time you met, and running his hands over his quaffed hair, tucking down any strays. "plus, i don't remember you complainin' when you were riding my face like a fuckin' rollercoaster at disney. so shut your shitten trap if you know what's good for you." he bristles as he smooths his stache over with his pointer finger.

"looks like you didn't fuck me hard enough last time. common issue for you, isn't it?" you cock your head to the side and pout at his reflection, only earning a grunt in return as his eyes never leave his own face.

"i'm gonna fuck you so hard, you won't be able to think of anymore of those witty comebacks you got there." the threat rolls naturally of his tongue as he tightens his tie and gives himself a nod. he lazily gazes down at you and offers a sideways grin. "if i didn't know any better, sweetheart, it's almost like you're begging to be ruined." he grabs the back of your head and forces you to look at yourself as he leans in and whispers. "don't you worry, the professor is gonna show you what a good fuckin' does to a bitch, like yerself." he nips at your earlobes and shoves your head forward before straightening himself up and walking to his dressing room to prepare himself for his big scenes. although your cheeks heated up with embarrassment at how quickly you fell under his spell, you couldn't deny the way your thighs clenched together at his promising words.

after working with soldier boy for the first time, no one had really lived up to him since. you had tried to find substitutions, tried to find the same excitement and thrill that coursed through your body at the touch of his hand or lips against yours, but to no avail. although you despised the man and everything he represented, you loved what he did to you.

as you bent down to buckle your mary-janes and pull up your patterned knee socks, you took a second to gaze over the set. wooden university desks were scattered around the room with books open to random pages and pencil cases spread about the set-up classroom. an old-fashioned military green chalkboard had been hung up and the set coordinators had even taken the time to scribble some drawings and equations across it alongside today's date in the corner. to make the set more believable soldier boy's oak desk had been cluttered with various half-marked essays, a gold-rim typewriter, a forgotten cup of coffee and a plaque that read "professor b. dover". you shot up and ran your finger over the indented letters, shouting over your shoulder to anyone in earshot.

"what does the b stand for?"

"ben, my real name." you flinch as soldier boy's strong hands come up and rest on your shoulders, causing your hand to fall and your shoulders to stiffen.

"so, professor ben dover? like bend over?" you scoff as you peel his hands off you and swivel to face him. he chuckles and nods as you roll your eyes. "is everything just a joke to you?" you sigh.

"lighten the fuck up, doll. not everythin' has to be so fuckin' serious." he tugs on your pigtail again and your head jerks along with it. you wince in sudden pain and this time, it was his turn to roll his eyes. "try to have some fun for once, eh? wouldn't kill you." he walks around and settles himself in his red velour chair, running his broad hands over the armrest with a smirk, enjoying the soft fabric beneath his rough fingertips. much like how he loves them against your soft skin. he pulls and tugs on his sleeves as you silently sit down by one of the desks and wait for the director to brief you and call action. you sigh and twirl on your hair as you rest your eyes dance around the room before naturally settling on soldier boy and his hypnotic gaze. although nothing is said, everything is shared and he has you exactly where he wants and you both know it.

"so! exciting, ain't this? the people loved you the first time, so this is gonna make us all very rich." the director clutches his clipboard as his eyes flicker between the two of you, each wearing an unimpressed reaction. "right. uh, it's the well-loved storyline. irresponsible college student misses a deadline and fails the class and her caring professor is willing to bend the rules to help her pass, but..." he holds his hands out to allow you to answer, like an interactive theatre stage. you raise your eyebrows in surprise and gaze at soldier boy for a second, his expression equally as confused.

"but i gotta fuck him first." you mutter.

"exactly!" he yells in delight. he gives his clipboard a smack, glances back over at the interns and set crew as they signal that the cameras are ready and the lighting is in place. "let's make some money." he gives you both a thumbs up before he rushes back into his director's chair and yells "ACTION!". you immediately enter the mindset of your character and forget the dislike for your co-actor that simmers under your skin.

"any reason why you stayed behind after class, young miss?" soldier boy raises his eyebrows as he tugs down his circular frames and lets his eyes roam over you, sitting cross-legged behind your worn-wooden desk with a slight pout on your glossy lips. you loudly sigh and close your math book before resting your chin in your hand and gazing right back at him. as he leans back and crosses his large arms, the velour chair squeaks as it struggles to hold his muscled build.

"i know i failed your class, professor dover, but i need your help. my best friend said she had made a deal with you before and... i really need to pass." your long, manicured fingers run along the edges of your book as you nibble on your bottom lip and bat your large eyelashes at him. he couldn't help but scoff, you played the role of innocent student almost too well, but he quickly caught and corrected himself.

"you can call me ben, we're outside of office hours." he starts before settling his judging gaze on you. "but... let me get this right." the chair creaks as he leans forward and rests his forearms on the desk, sighing loudly. "you think you can just bat your little eyes at me and i'll let you pass?" you lean back, skirt your fingers across the hem of your sundress before you uncross your legs to flash your underwear and cross them again the other way whilst you shake your head. soldier boy sucks his teeth and tuts loudly at the sight of your cute underwear. he couldn't wait to dive into them, like before, and feel how wet you are for him.

"oh, no, professor. uh, sorry, ben. not at all. i wouldn't–" you stop yourself and brush your hair away from your face. "i'll do anything to pass, sir. please. my dad's gonna be so mad if i don't pass this semester." you lean over your desk, resting your chest on top of your book and exposing your cleavage to him. "are there any extra-curricular activities i can do? anything i can help with?" you let one of your sundress straps glides down and rests on your upper arm, exposing more of your breasts. "i'm a quick learner, sir." you put on your best act for the cameras, wearing the role of innocent student like a second skin; second nature. you were just simply a desperate student begging for help from her older, wiser professor.

"yeah, i bet you fuckin' are." soldier boy scoffs under his breath before running his hand over his gelled hair and looking up at you with a smirk as his eyes dart down to your chest. "listen, doll. i–" you interrupt him by shooting up and walking around to the front of his desk, clasping your hands together in desperation.

"mr. dover. please. i'll do anything, anything you want!" you lean forward and grasp his hands in your small ones, a pleading glint in your eyes. your tits are almost spilling out the top of the dress and he lets out a low groan. he could barely even contain himself any longer.

"alright, alright." he throws up his hands, palms facing forward, signalling for you to stop your begging. "i'll help you, but first, i gotta teach you a lesson on obedience and responsibility. wouldn't you agree?" it was his turn to grab your hands, holding you frozen in place as he uses the other to forcefully grab your chin. "can't believe i have a classroom filled with sluts like you." he sneers, his nose scrunching and his glasses lifting, framing and highlighting the hunger in his eyes. "i've seen the way you look at me in class. the way you fuckin' bite your lips whenever i even glance at you. the way you clench those thighs beneath the shortest fuckin' skirts and dresses, i've ever seen." he huffs as your mouth gapes in embarrassment at each of his damning words. your hands instinctively crawl up your thighs and press themselves against your weeping core, just to feel any kind of relief. you caress and glide your fingers delicately over your most sensitive bundle of nerves, wishing it was his hands instead as he continues to deliciously degrade you. "such a dirty girl, aren't ya? i bet no one's ever touched ya, the way i will. the way you really want to be touched. used." all you can do is mindlessly nod in return, a slow grin taking up your face before he gives you a small slap. you open your mouth to complain but, he takes the opportunity to jab his thumb into your mouth and admiring the way your tongue curls and slides over it, sucking on it like your life depended on it.

he couldn't wait anymore.

he pulls his thumb out, reaches around and grabs the nape of your neck before yanking you forward over his desk and crashing his lips against your own. he devours each of your mewls and moans, smirking to himself at how quickly you fall under his spell. your hands skim over his upper body, feeling the white, tight shirt under your fingertips and finally, clutching onto his biceps as you let yourself succumb to his touch. he tugged back your head and revelled in the sight of your bitten, swollen lips as you tried to catch your breath, but soldier boy was never one to be patient. he grabbed one of your perfectly braided pigtails and tugged on it, almost leading you like a dog on a leash, around the desk until you're stumbling in front of him, as he settled back into this chair. his large hand brushes over your hair, trying to get it into place before fully leaning back and just watching you. your heaving chest, your trembling knees, and your blown pupils.

"christ.." he mumbles under his breath. "take them fucking panties off. it's time for your punishment, dollface." he pushes back his chair and slaps his lap before caressing it, inviting you. tempting you. you couldn't help but gasp as it dawned on you what he had in mind and you couldn't have tugged down your cute, cotton underwear any faster. you let them stay bunched at your ankles as you leaned yourself over his broad lap, his large frame swallowing you as you lay there at his mercy. his fingers traced the hem of your sundress, lifting it slowly as he watches it dance over the curve of your ass and settle in the dip of your back. "now, you know the rules, don't ya? you gotta count out loud and so, help you god, if you stop then we start all over again until you can fuckin' get it right." he palms your ass, spreading the cheeks apart before kneading them like dough and laughing dryly as you hang your head and only nod. SMACK! "answer your professor." you yelp out in pain, your head wrenching back and your legs futilely kick.

"yes, yes! yes, sir." you whimper. he gives you a nod before muttering a "good girl." and letting a second smack reverberate around the carefully curated classroom. "one!" you yell out. SMACK! "two!". SMACK! "three.." you gasp. each smack was harsher than the last, tears brimming in your eyes. you couldn't hear much besides your heartbeat in your eyes, but between the deafening beats, you could hear soldier boy's low chuckles between each assault on your delicate skin. he smooths his palm over your cheek, laughing as you squirm under him.

"only two more, good girl. you can do it, can't you? you're a big girl now. big college student who is gonna fuck her professor to pass." his taunting tone only adds to your pain and your undeniable pleasure. usually, your co-actors were sweet and somewhat rough, but soldier boy always gave you what you desired most, no matter how much you try to deny it. a groan from you, followed by another strike to your reddened cheek and a drawn-out "fooouurr...." as you let the tears run down your face and over your gasping mouth. SMACK! "five." you cry out and hiss, your body finally relaxing as he coos, leaning down to flutter kisses over the branded curve of your ass. he pulls you up and sits you on his lap, encircling his arms around you and hugging you tight as you share short pecks that grew increasingly more urgent; the desire simmering right below the surface. he slowly pushes his off his lap and down onto the floor, sitting your slick clit right against the tip of his shoe. he flicks his chin up, indicating for you to lift your arms and he tugs off your flimsy sun-dress and throws it carelessly across the classroom.

"now, my shoe needs shining, doll. you can help with that, can't you? said you'd do anything." he leans in and down, gliding his calloused fingertip down the bridge of your nose before tapping your nose tip. "get to fuckin' work." he lifts his oxfords up and bumps them against your slick folds, making you yelp and latch onto his thigh for support. you spread your legs more and settle against his shoe, rocking your hips and rubbing your clit against the top of his shoe. the sensation of the laces and bumps against your folds and unattended clit made you feel dizzy. no man had ever made you feel this desperate for praise, for their approval. and no man had ever expected this of you, but for soldier boy, you were willing to do anything. you gritted your teeth and frowned deeply as you concentrated on rutting and grinding, spreading your arousal all over his expensive shoes, fulfilling his wishes.

he loosened his tie and patted your head as you whined and moaned beneath him, your claw-like nails digging into his full thighs. he pulled off his tie and looped it around your neck, tightening it until rested nicely between the valley of your breasts, his fingers skimming gently over you; making you shiver and moan in anticipation. his touch, his attention was like a drug you couldn't get enough of. whenever he gazed upon you it was like the sun shone only on you and made you glow in its glory. he cupped your cheek and kept your gaze on him as he bumped and lifted his shoe against your glossy folds and basked in your mewls and protests.

"hm, such a teacher's pet. willing to do anything for a good grade." he hummed, his thumb dragging across your cheek and pinching it. "let me see how much of a mess you've made." he roughly pushes you off his shoe and you land with a small yelp. he lifts his shoe an inch of the floor and a gasp falls past his lips. his eyes catch the camera as he angles his oxfords against the harsh set lights; his shoe glistening with your dripping arousal. "haven't even fuckin' touch your cunt yet and you're so soaked." he groans in approval.

"ple– please, touch me, sir. i need you. need you." you sat up on your knees and reached out, your hand grazing over his growing bulge that was barely suppressed in his black slacks. "need to pass." you mumble as you attempted to open his belt, but he quickly brushed your hands away with a devilish grin as he gazed down onto you. like a king with an effortless sense of authority and you were nothing but his adoring follower.

"needy lil' girl. huh? you need to pass, you need to get fucked, you need my cock. you think you deserve any of it, doll? hm?" his grin softens as he toys with the tip of his tie, which sat snugly around your neck. "you think you make the rules around here? since when can a ditzy slut like you make decisions?" he grabbed and tugged on it like a dog leash, bringing you to your feet and following swiftly behind. his hands reached up and smoothing the top of your head, running his hands over your frizzy pigtails, teasingly down the side of your neck, over your shoulders until they circled and tugged on your hardened nipples with a sigh of content. you stand on your tiptoes and tenderly kiss his lips, his stubble grazing against your chin and cheeks as your tongue lapped against his. each harsh tug on your nipples was followed by flittering touches, each bite of your lip was followed by a soft moan from him.

he was as harsh and untameable as the sea, but interchangeably as soft and delicate as a soft summer breeze. he gives you one final peck and places his round spectacles on your face, offering you a small smile before he leads you to stand to the side of the desk and facing away from him, out toward the classroom. behind you, you hear the promising sound of his belt unbuckling and an expectant shudder runs down your back. you twist to peek over your shoulder, but your head is immediately shoved back around and you let out a school-girl giggle. the clang and swoosh of his slacks falling to the floor, the familiar sound of a condom packet opening and a loud hiss as he lazily jerks his leaking cock.

"now do like my fuckin' name and ben dover." he chuckles to himself and thankfully, you were facing away from the camera, as you dramatically rolled your eyes before he pushes you down onto the desk by the back of your head with a grunt. you fumble as the glasses almost fall off your nose and you push them up, just in time to look back and catch the sight you had been looking forward to. his hair tousled, his shirt unbuttoned and his large cock aching to be stuffed in between your familiar folds. he ran his tip up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices and gently tapping it against your clit. your knees buckled and your heart threatened to beat out of your ribcage; you could barely wait another second. a glob of spit lands in soldier boy's rough hands as he fists his cock one last time before prodding your entrance before deliciously sinking into you. your folds and walls welcoming him as your legs shake beneath you and soldier boy shudders behind you as he buries himself deep into you. your pussy clamped down and clenched around him as he caught his breath, before tortuously dragging himself back and slamming into you with no warning. you shot forward and held onto the edges of his oak desk for support as he picked up his pace, his balls rocking into your clit with a steady beat.

"fuck, oh my god, siiiir." you drone as his tip expertly nudges against your cervix, each thrust turning your brain to mush. "fuck, fuck! ngggh–!" his harsh grip on your hips tightens as he relentlessly slams into you. his breath ragged and his eyes wild as he takes in the sight of you beneath him, all for him. in this moment, the two of you completely forget the crew on set and lose yourselves in the sensation of taking out each other's frustrations on one another. he leans forward and fumbles for a second before grabbing the length of his green tie and tugging it back. your constricted airways make your eyes flutter as he wraps it around his large fist, burying himself deeper into you. the desk groans and squeaks under the force and weight of soldier boy ramming into your aching cunt.

"i warned you." he chuckles into your ear as he picks up momentum and fucks into you at a superhuman pace. you're reminded of his harsh words from before and you silently accept your fate. "should start callin' you the teachers whore." he gasps against your neck in between vigorous thrusts, grazing his teeth against your pulsating vein. "gonna teach you how to take a real cock, how to get fucked like a real whore. you'd like that, wouldn't ya?" an absence of an answer from you makes him tug on the tie, you gasp and struggle for air before he relents. "wouldn't you, dollface, hm?" he repeats.

"yes, yes! please, oh my god. teach me, please. i wanna be your pet, teacher's pet." you choke out. he releases his unyielding grip around the tie, making you fall forward and heave for air, pushing the sliding glasses up your nose again.

"rub your lil' clit for me, yeah? let the professor see how much you wanna pass his class." without delay, you slide your hand between your thighs and clumsily rub your wet clit in frenzied circles. your climax was charging at you like a runaway train and soldier boy could sense it in how you squeezed his length. "cum for me. cream all over your professor's cock." he mutters, sweat dripping down his forehead. with a few added thrusts and harsh pinches to your clit, your climax washing over you as your knees buckled whilst soldier boy used his strength to keep you in place. the wet squelch of your cunt drove soldier boy crazy, a ring of cum forming around the base of his cock and it almost tipped him over the edge. "are you my good lil' girl? my good lil' student?" he whispers as he pokes out his tongue, gritting his teeth as his abdomen tenses. so close.

"yes, sir. your best girl, best student! your good girl." you cry out and that was all he needed. to your surprise, he yanks himself out of your inviting cunt, pulls off his condom, yanks you off his desk and down onto your knees.

"open your mouth, whore mouth. lemme see that tongue." you lean your head back and flatten your tongue, readying yourself for his release. he pumps himself a few times before staggering closer to you, grabbing the top of your head to steady himself and loudly sighing as he cums all over your face. his mouth agape in awe as his seed glides down your heated-up cheeks and into the crevices of your mouth. he guides his tip down and rests it against your tongue as the last of his cum glides down your throat before you suck on his tip. "oh, fuck, doll..." he moans as you collect the scattered cum on your ring finger and suck it clean, showing your empty mouth to him.

"did i pass, sir?" you gaze up at him with those damn trusting eyes and swollen lips, your chest still heaving.

"with flyin' fuckin' colours." he huffs, brushing his loose hairs away from his face and grabbing his glasses back from you and lifting you back to your feet. the heels of mary-janes clicking against the wooden floorboards. "flying. fucking. colours." each word spoken in between chaste kisses.

"CUT!"

like every time before, your manager pushes past the set crew and wraps you in your pink, fluffy bathrobe, as well as handing you a face-wipe and a bottle of water. soldier boy loosened his limbs before pulling up the slacks and buckling them, giving you a satisfied nod accompanied by his wolfish smirk.

"think i got the job done this time, don't ya agree?" he laughs, frowning as the interns crowd him and ask him countless questions. he waves them away with a grunt, concentrating his laser gaze on you again. you simply scoff in return, acting unimpressed. he bristles and sighs. "c'mon, give a guy a break. we both know the truth." his cocky behaviour cloaking his need for approval from you.

"maybe third time will be the charm. isn't that what they say?" you wink before sauntering off with your manager following close behind. soldier boy stood stunned, speechless. in that moment, he made up his mind. he was going to do everything it took to be in between your thighs again, so help him god if it would be the last thing he'd ever get to do.

a/n: and we're back. just as fun to write as the first time and i hope everyone wants a third one because i'm already brainstorming some ideas! LIKES, FEEDBACK & REBLOGS are appreciated, if you loved this! ⭑ millie's masterlist ⭑ -`♡´- tag list: @bluemerakis @legalmente-loca @faiszt @vmiina @emeraldcrs @briiverse @figthoughts @sl33pylilbunny @jasvtsc @silverwoodlynx @bejeweledinterludes @yooyieu @0ccvltism @nperoconelcositoarriba @lanasgirlfr @velvetdandeli0n @iluvdeanwinchester @cowboysandcigarettes @daylighted @valjy @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @syrma-sensei @rositaslabyrinth @blossomingorchids @deansbbyx @mads-ackles @lunaleah @diawinchester217 @sunnyteume @drakulana @k-slla @deansbeer @h8aaz @samslovebug @missus-ackles @barnes70stark (comment or inbox me to be added/taken off)

[littlelamy]

title: birthday sex with your husband

warnings: 18+, smut

notes୧: alexa play 'in da club'

paris still clings to you—on your skin, in your hair, in the way your body feels weightless from champagne and indulgence, like you’ve been sculpted from something finer, softer, made only for pleasure. rafe made sure of that. from the moment you woke up wrapped in silk sheets to the second he dragged you off the private jet, he’s given you everything.

and now, in the sprawling presidential suite, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city, he’s about to give you more.

“birthday girl looks so fucking pretty,” rafe murmurs, voice thick, low, vibrating against your skin as he presses you into the massive bed. the air still smells like roses and sex, like the bottle of wine he ordered before he pulled you onto his lap, lips trailing down your neck while he fed you strawberries, one by one. “been spoiling you all day. hm think i gonna ruin you now.”

his fingers trace your thigh, slow, teasing, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he pushes your legs apart. he doesn’t rush—no, he never rushes, not when he has you like this, spread out for him, waiting, wanting.

“what do you think, birthday girl?” he murmurs, teeth grazing your collarbone, lips soothing the bite with a kiss. “you want me to take my time? or you want it rough?”

you whimper, hips rolling up to meet the teasing stroke of his fingers, already slick, already aching. “rough,” you whisper, breathless.

rafe pulls back just enough to look at you, dark amusement flashing in his eyes. “yeah?” his fingers press deeper, teasing, making you writhe. “not very lady-like, is it?” he taunts, smirking as your breath hitches. “but hey, it’s the birthday girl’s choice.”

his words send a fresh wave of heat flooding through you, and you don’t care how desperate you sound when you nod, whimpering, “please, rafe.”

he chuckles, and fuck, it’s sinful, the way he does it, full of dark promise. “gonna need more than that, sweetheart.” his thumb brushes over your clit, featherlight, teasing, making your breath hitch. “use your words.”

“want you,” you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, legs falling wider as he slides down, kissing a path between your thighs. “need you—need your mouth—”

“that’s my good girl.” his voice is pure sin, all honey and heat, before his tongue replaces his fingers, slow and languid, savoring every moan, every squirm, every desperate pull of his hair as he ruins you with his mouth.

he worships you, the way he always does, but tonight—tonight it’s different. tonight, almost like you’re his birthday gift, and he’s going to unwrap you slowly, thoroughly, until you’re trembling, begging, coming undone beneath him over and over until your body forgets how to do anything but take him.

when he finally slides inside you, stretching you open, filling you to the hilt, his name is the only thing you know how to say, the only thing you can cling to as he fucks you deep, slow at first—just to make you whine, just to hear you plead for more—before his grip tightens and he gives you exactly what you begged for.

hard. deep. devastating.

“mine,” he breathes against your lips, swallowing your moans, rolling his hips just right, hitting every spot that makes you shake. “all fucking mine.”

paris is beautiful, but nothing compares to the way rafe devours you—like you’re the only thing in the world worth celebrating.

edited: going to take a break from this account for a couple days...the last part of catching him cheating is queued for tomorrow around 12 pm! if you need anything ill be on @littlesoulshine <3 as i approach 4k followers i do want to thank every single one of you because i created this account because i was simply in love with rafe and obx and a lot of you have made this community so fun for me and can't thank you enough. i will create a 4k celebration, and on this break, i will finish my requests! OH and please continue to tag me in everything!!!!

tags (lmk if you want to be removed): @rafesbabygirlx @namelesslosers @drewsephrry @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @rafedaddy01 @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lil-sparklqueen @rafessweetgirl @esquivelbianca @p45510n4f4shi0n @palomavz @cokewithcameron @donaldsonsgirl @yncoded @lilbunnysfics @solaceluna @icaqttt @alphabetically-deranged @bevstofu @wintercrows

[goaskangel]

drunk sex with your sexy co-worker nanami!

cw : drunk sex, dubcon, mentions of breeding, toxxxiicc, suicide mention

mmm, you want nanami so fucking badly. 

you thought this new, high-end job was going to be good for you, get you on the right track for the stability you’ve been craving. sugar daddies or plain suicide crossed your mind an awful lot but fortunately,(?) that wasn’t the case. 

so easily distracted, you should’ve seen it coming. when overworked yet diligent personified passed you during work hours. oh, fuck me running through your crowded head as you squeezed your skirted thighs. 

maybe it was a good thing because you certainly cleaned up your act. got to work on time so he wouldn’t think you were slacking, ironed your new work clothes so he wouldn’t frown at the wrinkles of your button-up, or god forbid scoff. you already got the job so now you just needed some recognition from an older man. that you work with. that’s never looked in your direction. 

but god, he’s such delectable eye candy. 

you’re hesitant to attend your company’s 10 year anniversary. at a bar of all places, guess the work really gets to everybody. but you’re a lightweight and would probably sit all alone, trying to make crappy small talk to the bartender. probably hot too, but you think about nanami.

you know he drinks—past all his clean habits of combed hair and tailored suits, his breath fails to conceal his habits the night before. 

coworkers constantly joke about it and you finally got the treat of looking through his pristine behavior with the thick whiskey lingering on his tongue. 

if you were worse, you would’ve leaned in, arms around his neck and sucked all the alcohol right off his mouth. 

but the best you can get right now is sitting across all your colleagues, sipping on a cocktail whilst they laugh and enjoy themselves.

until nanami’s sitting right before you, getting away from his work “buddies” to finally relax in what seems to be his happy place. you can’t help but stop drinking, your eyes glued right on how he fixes to untighten his tie a bit. thick and nice arms revealed when he scrunches his blue sleeves up. the golden hair of his forearm makes your mouth dry enough for you to start sipping again.

your dummy brain resorts to more, harder alcohol to ease the anxiety, or lust, in your body. the way he just unfolds on the velvet furniture is enough to make you throb dully. asking the server for another drink while sitting back, his meaty thighs perfectly molded by his khakis. 

poor you, all drunk for nothing. nothing but to stare at just how sexy he is. you could’ve made a move on his tipsy self now that you had the confidence. woozy confidence that could be ignored the monday after if it didn’t go right—but it’s too late. you might as well just call a friend to come and pick your-drunk-for-nothing-self. 

you wobble to the exit, holding onto any spiraling furniture or fixture you can get a hold of. at least you got a good look at him, was it worth the expensive drinks? is it worth the hangover tomorrow morning? whatever, you’re going. leaving and flopping onto bed with your slippery cunt and dull heart. 

“hey, hon. leaving so soon?” thick whiskey from a pristine mouth. sharp and tall, somehow you’re standing right beside nanami without seeing him even get up.

calling you hon, leaning against the burgundy painted walls and obviously tipsy. 

“mmh, don’t know, i guess i…jus’ got bored.” you clutch your purse and lean on the wall out of clumsiness. 

“bored, hmm? new and nobody’s bothered you, yet?” he chuckles and you swear it feels like you’ve taken another shot. “lucky girl.” 

he gets closer to you, “you weren’t going to drive all by yourself, yeah? here, how about you stay for a little longer and i promise you won’t be bored.” hefty fingers coming by your face to twirl your hair. he’s drunk, god knows how many cups it took but even then, he’s much more tolerant than you. you can’t object, and why would you? he’s the perfect man at not such a perfect time but when else would this happen? nodding with a dazed expression, he just leads you.

big arm guiding you with his palm on the small of your back. his heat and touch getting to you. you lean into it so hard that when he’s got you pushed up to the powder table of a single women’s bathroom, you don’t notice until he’s going back to lock the door. 

you sit in a small, little, glazed wooden space with a mirror behind you, crammed in slightly. a sudden throb to the side of your skull as he walks back up to you, the alcohol hitting back at you with waves of headaches causing you to moan and whine. 

“hey, hey–shh, nanami’s gonna make it all better, okay?” slurring his words slightly, possibly getting drunk off of you. pretty, new girl all to himself, finally. even if you are half gone, with your squinting, tired eyes and whines. 

he runs his hands all over you, drunk and lustful eyes watching every wince and twitch that your heightened body makes, throwing your head back when he thumbs at your clothed pussy, your skirt pushed up. slowly undressing you; your tits exposed with hastily unbuttoned buttons and a rip of the middle of your bra. your skirt pushed past your pelvis to tear your little panties off. contorting your smaller body to rest your limp legs up so he can have his way with you. 

“mmmpgh—augh, please. fuck, ohh!—” your back arching when he wiggles his hips to meet yours. nanami’s cock, much bigger than you ever imagined, burying inside of your little cunt. 

“just take it, baby. mhmm, let it happen.” he coos at you, a much bigger difference considering how he’s fucking himself into you throughly. your head spins at the impact, unable to even understand what’s going on around you but holy shit does it feel good. the way his cock is completely hugged by your pussy, throbbing around him while spilling arousal down your ass to the marbled floor. 

you feel an instant yet hidden orgasm come on when he tells you just how much he’s been waiting for this. for a time where he can take you out of nowhere, where you’re so pliable and perfect just for him. he knows you're a good girl, just for him. all for him. and maybe you’d be an even better girl for him by letting him come right inside you. deep enough where you couldn’t possibly finger his seed out even if you tried. maybe he could finally get you out of this boring job and take care of you for good! ^o^

[captain-huggy-bear]

hi!! similar to the one you wrote for nico, could i request a mid size/plus/curvy reader blurb with luke hughes please? whatever distinction you prefer. thank you! :)

Luke whose favourite thing at the end of a long day is to cuddle and press his face into your plush stomach while you run your hands through his hair. Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

Luke is done. He's done. A shit late game has him beat to hell and back, ready to fall into bed and sleep for a century. His entire body hurts having taken a few more hits than normal, bruises from pucks, bruises from the boards littering his body like a gruesome dot to do or paint by numbers. He's so tired that all he wants to do is curl up with you in a cosy pile and cuddle while you play with his hair. He doesn't even care that he hasn't eaten in hours or that he should really ice some of his bruises.

You're already in bed reading your current book when he staggers in, your eyes lifting to watch him as he throws off his suit as quickly as possible until he's down to his boxers. You take in the array of bruises already forming across his skin, brow furrowing because he's more beat up than usual. Luke doesn't even bother getting changed in sweatpants, just flops onto the bed so hard you bounce slightly as the mattress shifts.

You're putting your bookmark between the pages and placing your book back in its spot on your bedside table, already ready for him as Luke crawls up your body until his face presses into your stomach with a groan.

"You okay, Lukey?"

"Tired..." He mumbles it into the soft plush of your stomach, his favourite spot to fall at the end of a long day. For years you felt self conscious about it, worried about the fact your body was larger than other girls, your stomach soft and rounded, but being with Luke? That had taken any self-consciousness about it away. Your stomach was soft and it was comfy and whether it was resting there at the end of a long day or kissing it or blowing a raspberry there when he felt like being silly, Luke had shown you that your tummy wasn't a problem. That all of you could be loved rather than just parts.

"Have you eaten yet?" Your fingers find their way into his hair, curls catching gently against your hands as your nails scratch over his scalp and the back of his neck.

"...no..." It's muttered into your stomach, his face planted there, a soft kiss being pressed afterwards even as he avoids looking at you. You're going to insist he eats, you always do. But he doesn't want to. All he wants is this. The softness of your stomach against his cheek, the rise and fall of your abdomen underneath him, the warmth of your body as his arms wrap around and underneath you. God, he loves this. Loves you. Loves how soft you are, how warm, how good you smell.

"Baby, you need to eat." Even as you say it you don't make a move to get up or disturb him, nails scratching the base of his neck as he groans into your stomach, sighing into you like he's in his favourite place. Because he is. This is home. This is comfort. You.

"No...just want this, just want to cuddle with you, please?" He knows he's acting like a baby, knows Jack and Quinn would make fun of him if they could see him but he really doesn't care.

"...only for a little bit, then you're eating, deal?"

"Deal." You know that it won't end up happening. It never does. He'll fall asleep on your stomach with your hands in his hair. You won't have the heart to wake him and will stay like that until you inevitably drift off to sleep as well and in the morning you'll tell him off for not eating dinner and he'll sheepishly smile at you.

Luke nuzzles further into you, arms wrapping tighter around you as he sighs into your belly and all you can do is smile, all you can do is acknowledge that ache in your chest. The ache that is purely love for him as your hand runs down his back, between his bare shoulders and back again, stopping to count each mole and beauty mark along the way.

[brokeyourbones]

DC PROMPT

Every robin has died once. Except, in this universe, they don't come back. Bruce has already long since hung up the cowl, unable to stand being the Bat after Tim's death, having to bury another child of his own.

When Damian comes along, he thinks he has one last chance, to be an actual dad, to be a good father. When Damian finds his way into the dusty, abandoned Batcave one night, Bruce is horrified.

Because he finds Damian wearing pieces of all the robin suits. Dick's shirt, Jason's gloves, Cass's cape, Barbara's mask, Tim's pants, and Steph's boots. He looks just like all the boy robins, and his hair doesn't help with how he looks like Cassandra.

Damian is only 10, so parts of the suit drape over his body. He looks just like the other robins, Bruce can hardly hold back a choked sob. Damian doesn't understand why Bruce is shaking when looking at him.

"Father? What is wrong?" Damian asks cautiously, head tilted to the side in the same way Dick used to do. Bruce's heart clenches.

"...How did you...find this place? It's sealed off." Bruce answers Damian's question with another, brows furrowing. He made sure any records of this place were destroyed, and that there was no way inside.

Damian looks at Bruce like he's stupid, placing his hands on his hips and looking around.

"They showed me!" Damian says like it's obvious, not explaining who 'they' is. He waves a hand at the empty air around him.

Bruce feels a chill crawl up his spine. "Who's they, Damian?" He regrets asking as soon as it slips from his mouth, the air around them growing even colder.

"The robins!" Damian says with a huff, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest. And suddenly, Bruce is engulfed in warmth. As if he was being hugged from all sides. It's enough to break him.

[untitled-document-95]

Back and Forth (jake "hangman" seresin x reader)

Summary: Jake doesn't know why you're playing hard to get. Only you know that you're not playing at all.

Warnings: Language, the state of missouri

Requested: by @x3zerochanx3 see full ask here

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: I typically try to keep the "reader" character as nondescript as possible, but I had to give a lil background for this one

*gif is not mine*

_________________

“Jake?”

That single word caused Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin to flush with warmth and relief. 

“Hi, momma. How was your flight?” 

“Oh, you know how public transportation is these days! Not a bit of southern hospitality in sight. Guess that’s why it’s called southern hospitality!” Mama Seresin ranted into the phone, causing Jake to chuckle. 

“We’re getting our luggage now, sweetie. Are you still meeting us at the hotel for dinner when you get done for the day?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jake replied. 

“Wonderful. I can’t wait to see you, honey.”

The mother and son exchange “I love you”’s and goodbyes and hang up the call, dragging Hangman unwillingly back to the cold locker room. He finishes changing into his flight suit for that afternoon’s training exercises. Just a few more hours and he’d get to see his parents for the first time in too many months. He’d requested a few days off, and his parents taking the time and energy to travel to him meant he got to make the most of those days. He couldn’t wait.

Finally, Jake was driving through the sweltering San Diego streets towards the address his mom had texted him. She’d said their hotel was new, so "it had better be good". He was pleasantly surprised to see the hotel was a mere two blocks from The Hard Deck. It was new, the exterior a sun bleached white stucco with black accents. 

A blast of air conditioning greeted Jake as he entered, but it was nothing compared to the hug his mother pulled him into just seconds later. 

“Jake!” she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of excitement and relief. Jake responded only by holding her more tightly and humming into her hair. Her scent was familiar and comforting, nearly bringing tears to his eyes. Pulling away, Jake reached out to hug his father as well. What a lucky guy I am, Jake thought.

“Now, where are you taking your parents to eat?” Mama Seresin asked. Jake laughed. 

“Well, what sounds good? I’ll be honest, I haven’t been around town much.” 

“Let’s ask the front desk,” mama says, making towards the sleek marble counter. A tight-laced looking guy stands there; the kind Jake would have called a string bean if he weren’t trying to mind his manners in front of mama. 

“Excuse me, sir, could you give us some recommendations for somewhere to have dinner?” she asks sweetly. 

“There’s some brochures in the breakfast room,” he says curtly, immediately bringing a frown to Mrs. Seresin’s face. Jake opens his mouth to tell him where he can shove his brochures when a woman Jake hadn’t noticed in the shadows behind him makes herself known. 

“Allow me,” she says, practically hip-checking the other employee out of the way. “Are we wanting to try some of the local flavor?” 

I sure do, Jake thinks. The girl is pretty. Not in the typical San Diego girl way. She’s sun kissed but not overly tan, she’s got muscle and a body, not the skeletal figure of too many of the local girls who frequent The Hard Deck, trying to pick up a pilot. She must live here, or she wouldn’t work here, but Jake somehow doubts that she’s from here. There’s a twinge of an accent in her voice. 

“I think that sounds lovely, dear. Where do you recommend?” 

“There’s a cantina just down the road that serves the best tamales. There’s usually no wait and they don’t take reservations, otherwise I’d call ahead for you.” 

“Well, if there isn’t a little southern hospitality left outside of Texas. You have been most helpful, dear. What’s your name?” The woman sticks out a hand, gives her name, and introduces herself as the hotel manager. 

“You must be from a southern state,” Mama Seresin assumes. 

“Sort of, ma’am,” the woman replies awkwardly. “I’m from Missouri.” 

Mama Seresin’s smile shows a flash of confusion for a moment before perkily replying, “Well, close enough! Thank you so much, dear. Come on, gentlemen!” As the family retreats, it doesn’t escape the hotel manager’s notice the way Jake’s eyes stay on her as he walks away, giving a quick wink just before stepping through the front doors. 

____________

Jake’s time with his family flies by, and he doesn’t see the cute hotel manager again. Saying goodbye before they leave for their late evening flight is more painful than he would ever say aloud. 

He knows he probably shouldn’t, but he heads to The Hard Deck after dropping them at the airport for a beer or two. Finding an empty stool at the bar, he begins to nurse his pint, not feeling up to pool or darts or any of his usual exploits. None of his pilot buddies are there yet anyway, it’s too early for them. He may try to duck out before any of them arrive in order to have some more alone time before having to face everyone at training again tomorrow. 

A boisterous laugh echoes across the room, and Jake looks towards the sound reflexively. It’s her - the hotel manager. She’s no longer dressed in her professional blazer, but a casual tank top. Something Penny and/or some old regular just said must’ve made her laugh. There’s a cocktail glass in her hand, but no friends in sight. 

Better yet, no boyfriend Jake thinks, climbing off of the stool to approach her. 

“Hey, Missouri,” he says as he draws closer, leaning against the bar near her. 

“Hello!” she replies cheerfully as though she’s still at work. “How did my dinner recommendation turn out?” 

“Delicious, thank you. The tamales were quite good.”

“Well, good! Can’t wait to go try them myself,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. 

“Wait…” Jake starts. “You haven’t eaten there yet? Then how’d you recommend it?” 

“I have spent an ungodly amount of time scouring reviews of everywhere within a 10 mile radius. That place had some of the best, and everyone mentioned the tamales.”

“Are you saying…you lied to my mother?” Jake says, both shocked and amazed. The woman laughs into her drink and her cheeks flush pink, making Jake wonder how many drinks she’s had. 

“Well, I can’t try everywhere at once. I’m working through it, though. That’s why I’m here tonight. A bar within walking distance of the hotel? I’ll recommend it all day and night if it’s good, which…” she looks into her glass and then back at Jake. “It is.” 

“Is that part of a hotel manager’s job?” he asks. 

“It is if you want to be a good one,” she answers, eyebrows hiking up. 

“And are you? A good one?”

“I’d like to think so, or I at least want to be. This is my first time,” she admits. 

“As a hotel manager?” 

“During the day, anyway. I’ve been a night auditor in a few different places.”

“And how did a girl from Missouri end up all the way here in San Diego? That’s a long way from home,” Jake smirks and sips his beer. She smirks back to let him know that she’s onto his little game. 

“I have family here. You’re not from here either I’m guessing, given that your parents stayed in my hotel to see you. Where are you from, Captain Obvious?” 

“It’s Lieutenant.” 

This response causes her to nearly choke to death on the drink she was taking a sip of. Penny looks over to see what the fuss is. 

“He has that effect on people, sweetie!” Penny hollers. 

When she has stopped coughing and taken another sip to clear her throat, she speaks again. 

“Was that to be funny, or…?” 

“No, I’m really a Lieutenant, from Texas but stationed here at the moment. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, nice to meet you…again,” he says, offering her a hand. She shakes politely but doesn’t reintroduce herself. 

“Nice to meet you,” she says. 

Just then, a group of fellow pilots enters the crowded bar. Spotting Jake, one comes over and claps a hand enthusiastically to his shoulder. 

“Hangman! Come on, man, rack ‘em up with me!” the guy shouts. 

“Hangman?” she asks. 

“Call sign. Old Navy tradition,” he says to her. “I’m a little busy at the moment, guys,” he replies to his friends.

“It’s okay,” she says, climbing down from her stool and getting out a card to close her tab with Penny. “I should get going anyway, I have a ton of paperwork to get done.” 

Reluctantly, Jake pulls away from the bar. 

“I guess I’ll see you around, Missouri,” he calls to her. 

“Not a chance, Tex,” she replies, smiling and turning away.

—-

The next day, Jake is perusing cottage cheese options at the grocery store when someone bumps into him. Literally - her body collides with his, no doubt from lack of attention. The woman stands and immediately begins apologizing, but stops dead in her tracks when her eyes lock with his. 

“I am so sorry, I was not looking where I-“

“Hey, Missouri,” Jake says flirtatiously. She attempts to speak, but each word she starts gets lost somewhere between her brain and her mouth, so Jake fills in the blanks for her. “Funny running into you here.” His tone drips with arrogance, like he knows just how much his sudden reappearance has thrown her and he wants to revel in it. 

“Are you stalking me?” she asks, but there’s a lightheartedness to her tone.

“I could say the same for you,” he retorts. 

“Fair enough. I’m sorry for running into you, I guess I got carried away looking for yogurt.” 

"I'll chalk that up as the weirdest excuse someone has given for trying to get my attention," Jake says smoothly. 

"Ah-" she starts, clearly outraged but with a smile on her face. "I was not!" she finally says. 

"No, it's okay!" he says. "I'm irresistible, I know."

"Whatever makes you feel better," she quips back. 

"What would make me feel better is if you'd just, you know, give it up and let me take you out properly." 

A surprised smile stretches across her face as she crosses her arms. 

"Is that what you think I've been trying to do?" Her tone is still casual, playful. Jake simply maintains eye contact, even giving her that signature wrinkle of his nose to really drive home the point: he doesn't need to say anything more, because they both know the mutual desire is there.

"Ohhh..kay, I'm gonna get my yogurt now." Jake smiles and rolls his eyes as she does just that. When was she going to give up the "hard to get" act? Jake reaches back as well, selecting a container of cottage cheese. 

"Come on, sweetheart. Let me show you how we do it here in Fightertown, USA."

"Oh, now you've ticked me off in more ways than one," she says, tossing her selected yogurt into her cart and pulling it around to face the direction she intends on moving, but a laugh threatens to bubble out of her. 

"How so?" Jake asks, his brow knitted in confusion. 

"You called me 'sweetheart' and you eat cottage cheese." She begins pushing her cart away from the dairy section. Jake remains, dumbfounded. 

"What's wrong with cottage cheese?" he calls to her retreating figure. 

"It's disgusting!" 

_________________

That night, Jake lay on the couch and did something he had never really done before - he searched for her on Facebook. He knew her name, her home state, and her current city and occupation, but it still took a while to find her. The posts on her profile were frustratingly private, but it did answer the most basic questions he had about this mysterious girl. Was she in a relationship? Was that why she was always rejecting his advances? No, her profile said "Single". Was she gay? Also no, a deep dive of her "About Me" said she was interested in men. He figured she would have said something a lot sooner if either of those things had been true, but you never knew. 

Jake couldn't decide if this whole experience was new because women didn't generally reject him or because he didn't generally chase a woman this way. In fairness, she'd never technically said "no", she just deflected. Frustrated and confused, Jake ran both hands through his hair before turning on a show to calm his mixed-up feelings.

_________________

"I don't know mom, she just...isn't biting on anything," Jake tells his mom through FaceTime a few days later. Some people may assume the ever-confident, always-"on" Jake Seresin wouldn't discuss the minor details of his love life with his mother, but they'd be wrong. He always leaves out the more colorful details, of course. 

"Well, just go talk to her! You know where she works," Mama Seresin replies. 

"Mom. It's not 1958, I'll look like a stalker if I do that," he says.

"Whatever you say, dear. Oh! Did I tell you about..." Jake's mind swirls more as his mother updates him on more gossip and neighborhood news from home. Maybe it's time to move on, give up on this girl. She clearly doesn't want to be courted, so why waste the mental energy? But a part of him nags that she's worth whatever it takes to break down the walls she's put up between them. 

"Jake? Jacob Michael, are you listening to me?" Mama snaps. Ah, shit. Middle name.

"I'm sorry mom, I got distracted," he admits. 

"Well, if you're gonna be distracted, might as well be useful. I need you to run by that hotel your father and I stayed at." Jake's heart pounds. Where she works? Why?

"What for?"

"Your daddy thinks he left his glasses in the desk drawer. You know how he is with those damn things. Insurance won't cover a new pair for 6 months and with his lenses alone we're looking at over a hundred dollars, not to mention whatever the hell frames he wants, and-"

"I got it, mama. I'll run by there this afternoon."

_________________

Why the hell am I nervous? Jake wonders as he approaches the front desk of the hotel. So far, it didn't even look like she was there. If she was, she at least wasn't the one working the desk. He couldn't decide if he would be relieved or disappointed if he made it out of here without seeing her and getting another shot at convincing her. 

Just as it was his turn in line, the phone at the desk rang. The gentleman working the desk called her name, the one that occupied so much of his brain at the moment. The man answered the phone, turning his attention away from the line in front of him. Presumably from the back office, she appears and looks astonished to see him standing there. 

"Good afternoon, Lieutenant. What can I do for you?" she says, remaining professional but with a new look of intrigue on her face. Too late, Jake realizes this is the first time she's seen him in any kind of uniform, still in his service khakis from work that day. 

"Afternoon, ma'am," he says, tipping his head in her direction cordially. "My mother and father stayed here last week, in room 510, and they fear they may have left a pair of eyeglasses behind in the desk drawer."

"Let me go check the lost and found, I'll be right back," she answers, dazzling him with that smile of hers. She returns shortly, no glasses in hand. 

"I didn't find them, but there's no one in that room right now and no one has stayed there since your parents checked out. If you'd like, we can run up there and take a look?" she offers. 

"That would be great, thank you." 

"Want me to take him?" the front desk guy says, now finished with the phone call. Not taking her eyes off of Jake, she answers him. 

"No, I've got it. You finish helping the rest of these lovely people out."

The elevator ride to the room is quiet but not awkward. Jake can almost sense every modicum of professionalism in her body working to keep something inside, to hold her back in some way. Inside, they scour every drawer and cabinet and look under the beds for the missing glasses, to no avail. 

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant Seresin, doesn't look like they're here," she says regretfully. 

“That’s alright, Missouri. They’re probably in my dad’s pocket but at least now I can say I looked.”

“True,” she chuckles. 

“You know, I usually take a girl out for dinner before bringing her to the bedroom,” he teases. She scoffs. 

“Oh, my God. I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” 

“Literally,” Jake smirks. “Maybe we can rewind and do it right this time.” Jake steps closer to her, causing her breath to catch in her chest. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re very persistent?” 

“Not since last week,” he says, getting a chuckle out of both of them. 

“Lieutenant S-“

“Call me Jake,” he interrupts. 

“Jake,” she says slowly. “I’m sorry, I just-“ her eyes dart to her feet and she bites her lower lip before looking up at him. She squints up like he’s as bright as the sun. “I just moved here. I don’t do one night stands. I don’t have the capacity for a relationship right now.” She says each sentence like they're bullet points; a rehearsed rejection.

Jake swears he feels part of him begin to bruise, and not his ego this time. 

“I understand,” he says, still gazing at her…lovingly? He winks. “Let me know when you’ve got room for me, huh?” 

Looking all too much like a starry-eyed school girl, she replies, “I will.”

Back in the car, Jake tries to shake off his disappointment by calling his mom to update her on the glasses situation.  

“Jakey?” she answers. 

“Hey, mama. I just went by the hotel, they didn’t have dad’s glasses.” 

“What glasses? Your dad’s glasses are on his face?”

“You asked me to-“ Jake stops mid sentence as the realization dawns on him. 

“Mom!” he exclaims, hearing his mom’s raucous laughter in the background. 

_________________

The next night, Jake’s friends drag him to The Hard Deck to try and cheer him up from whatever it is that’s bothering him, since he doesn’t seem keen on sharing with them. They encourage him to put his moves on some new lady. Despite his reservations, he figures it can’t hurt. He’s surprised by his own behavior when he scans the bar, not only looking for a potential lady but looking for her. If she’s here, he won’t be able to bring himself to talk to anyone else. She’s magnetic, that one. 

He doesn’t spot her, but does spot a nice looking gal hanging a little too close to the dart board to just be a fan of darts. Approaching her and putting on the charm is like muscle memory, but there’s a soreness in the muscle. He can feel how much he wishes he was putting all this charisma down for her, not the woman in front of him, pretty and nice as she may be. 

An hour and a few drinks later, Jake has Allie, as she introduced herself, on the dance floor. Spinning around, Jake wonders if it’s too early to try and get her out of here. Moreso, he isn’t sure he even wants to. The distraction has been nice, but bringing her back to his place doesn’t have the same impact it would have before meeting a certain hotel manager. 

On one of many spins, Jake loses all sense of balance. Not physically, but emotionally. All because he spots her across the bar, standing at a high top table and having a conversation with another guy. What the hell is she doing? What happened to “not having the capacity to date right now”? 

Jake is this close to marching up to her to ask her just that when Allie drags him to the bar for another drink. His eyes dart over to her every few seconds. At first, her interactions with the guy seem casual. Jake can tell from the way the guy shifts his body and looks between her eyes and her lips more frequently that he wants the conversation to be less casual. There’s no way she’ll reciprocate…right?  

_________________

She hadn’t noticed Jake and his date on the other side of the bar. She'd remained steadily focused on her job for the evening - entertaining her boss's son, who'd unexpectedly rolled into town that day. She, like Jake had, scoured the landscape of the bar upon her arrival, but didn’t manage to lay eyes on the aviator who seemed hell bent on flying around her mind all day and night. That is, until she hears his voice boom over the din of the room. Looking over, she watches as a girl drags him to the dance floor. Wait - had he or had he not just insinuated that when she was ready to date, he’d be there? She thought that meant he’d be waiting for her…this sure didn’t look like waiting. But...who was she kidding? A guy like him and a girl like her? She was lucky he’d even been so persistent. If she’d wanted him, she should have let him in when he tried the first several times. 

But oh, did she want him. So, so badly. She couldn’t admit that the fear of her previous relationship’s failure - the one that had sent her on this journey to get a job as far away from home as possible - was what was keeping her from entering into a relationship so soon. Ruminating on her regret stoked a fire in her chest - if he could move on so quickly, why couldn’t she? 

In a snap decision, she purposefully leaned closer and “turned it on” as her friends always told her to do: allowing her eyes to drift to parts of Liam other than his eyes, sipping her drink a little more sensually, but still holding back just a bit so she could defend herself if she were accused of being unprofessional. She couldn’t help but feel that Liam wasn’t exactly interested in remaining strictly professional. 

_________________

Across the bar, Jake was nearly turning red with frustration. Splitting his attention between Allie and the date over at the high top table, he couldn’t help but notice the changes in her body language. The way she leaned in, the way she damn near batted her eyelashes at this guy. What did he have that Jake didn’t? Jake resented the seed of self-doubt she’d planted in his chest. 

He continued to watch as she actually brushed her hand down his arm. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Jake mutters under his breath.

“What’s that?” Allie asked. 

“Nothing, darling. Not a damn thing,” he replied, gritting his teeth a little as he looked back over at them. He began formulating a plan for intercepting their little tête-à-tête somehow when, lo and behold, someone unplugged the jukebox, sending a round of groans throughout the room. Jake had been around long enough to realize what was happening. Sure enough, moments later, someone started up a song on the piano. Looking up and over the crowd, Jake spotted - who else? - Bradley at the keys. Normally, Bradley’s piano peacocking would annoy him, but tonight, it was his chance. 

“Let’s get closer!” Allie begs, grabbing around Jake’s bicep.

“You go on, I gotta do something real fast,” he shouts in order to be heard over the cheers and initial notes of Rooster’s song. Allie smiles and rushes off to get closer to the piano.

Before his targets can do the same, Jake hustles to the opposite side of the bar. Unsure if it's the beer in his system or something else making him so bold, Jake walks right up behind her and touches a gentle hand to her elbow as he says her name. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Her forehead knits and unknits just as quickly before she turns to her date, excusing herself. Jake carefully guides her out to the deck, closing the door behind them to muffle the sounds of the music inside. It’s much calmer on the deck, the sun just about to set on the horizon. The sound of the ocean waves and the faint smell of salt soothes Jake's nerves just a bit. 

“What the hell is going on in there?” Jake asks, as calmly as possible despite his un-holy language. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says modestly, crossing her arms and leaning against the railing, back to the sea.   

“Don’t give me that, Missouri. What happened to being too busy to date?”

“I’m not on a date, Jake. I’m entertaining a VIP guest of the hotel, and yes, that’s part of my job too.”

“Yeah, that looked a lot like a business meeting.” His tone is heavy with sarcasm. 

“Well, it’s not like you did much waiting around, either!” she retorts. Jake snickers, but has no response. If only she knew how truly remarkable it is to render him speechless. 

“What is this, Jake?” she asks. “Why do you care so much, anyway?” Something in her voice seems wounded, like someone who has been hurt before and fully expects to be hurt again. That phrase in and of itself digs into Jake sharply, like a knife. 

Jake's hands find his hips and he looks to the sky, practically begging God to send him the words he needs to convince her to give him a chance. There’s a figurative whisper in his ear - his mom’s voice, reminding him to be himself. But who is he, really? He didn’t want her the way he wanted the girls he usually found at The Hard Deck - in the bedroom sense only. He wanted her for so much more than that. With a heavy sigh, he looks at her once again. 

“I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want. But I want…us. I think that we could be something amazing, and I don’t know if I can go my whole life without finding out if I’m right or not.” His voice cracks on the last sentence, a fact that makes her look stricken, as though she takes accountability for his sudden show of emotion.

Her cheeks are a violent shade of red. Exhaling, she allows her arms to uncross, palms moving to rest on her lower back. She, too, looks to the sky. For her, though, it’s not because she has no words - it’s because she has too many. She fears drowning him with her words, unsure if that would be preferable to the drought she’s already left him in. 

Jake slowly draws closer to her, but remains just barely within arm’s reach. He reaches out a hand to tuck a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispers. She lets out a shuddery breath.

“I’m scared,” she admits. 

“Of what?” She sniffles and drops her eyes to her feet. 

“That another person will be so cruel as to pretend to care about me more than they really do.” 

For a minute, the only sounds are the muffled music and cheers from the bar goers inside, the crashing of the waves, the calls of the seagulls swooping down for one last snack.

Jake looks into her face more intently than anyone ever has. He notices that her eyes are no longer on him, but beyond him, through the large windows of the bar. Turning to follow her gaze, he sees exactly what she does - the guy she'd been with inside and Allie, wrapped up in one another like they hadn't both been there with other people less than 5 minutes ago. Jake turns back around.

“I would say it’s their loss, but it’s not.” A look of befuddlement takes over her face, until Jake clarifies. “It’s not their loss because anyone who has done that to you is clearly too stupid to realize what they lost when they walked away from you. You’re too smart, too powerful, too beautiful for them to realize what they’re missing out on. I’m not going to make the same mistake…if you’ll let me prove it.” With each sentence, Jake has inched closer. Their faces are so close they’d be cross eyed if they were trying to make eye contact. That’s probably why, when they both look up, their lips brush one another. With a level of synchronization that can’t be taught, they both reach for the other, pulling each other close. Their lips crash together quietly but inside, there’s an explosion. All the tension and build up to this moment melts into the kiss, like two lovers reunited after years apart instead of practical strangers who met less than two weeks ago. 

The tension ebbs as they pull apart and lock eyes. Tentative smiles sneak into view, perhaps both a bit embarrassed, but neither regretful. Not one bit. 

[misseviehyde]

BETTER SUITED

You couldn't take it anymore. You had to be free of her.

It made you feel physically sick to be Mikayla. Not whilst you were her of course... it was afterwards. Afterwards when you slid off her perfect skin and returned to being yourself. Afterwards when you lay in bed feeling guilty and wrong for the evil you had committed.

But then the hunger and addiction to become her, to be free of guilt and take pleasure in the suffering of others filled you. You would become her again and the cycle of pleasure and disgust would start again.

You had found the skin in a trunk of a house you were renovating, hidden behind a wall in the attic. The owner of the house seemed to know nothing about the trunk. You stole the skin and took it home with you.

You had no idea where Mikayla had come from. Was she a real woman who had been turned into a magic skin, an experimental nano-suit, or something else? It didn't really matter.

All that mattered was that when you slid open the skin and climbed inside, you BECAME her.

First you'd push your legs inside, marvelling at how soft and hairless your legs were. Brown and tanned, perfectly long and sexy. Next you'd pull her ass and midriff over your crotch. Somehow all your fat and extra weight would melt away and you'd be left with her tiny waist and perfect plump ass. Your cock would be gone, Mikayla's perfect pussy now between your legs.

As you pulled the skin up the best bit was about to happen. Mikayla's tits were so big that even empty they could be seen on the skin - but as you tugged them into place they would grow and inflate. You'd moan as Mikayla's big tits bounced on your chest and you'd pushed your arms into hers.

All that was left was to pull over the face and the hair with your new manicured hands. Your body was now entirely feminine and somehow you fit inside this tiny thin skin. As you groaned and felt Mikayla's face fit to yours her hair would root into your scalp and the physical transformation was complete.

But that still left the mental changes.

When you wore the skin you would become Mikayla. Her arrogance, her hunger for sex and power and her cruel and manipulative personality would become yours. You felt your lips twist into an evil grin as you became the most evil bitch imaginable. You became pure evil.

It was only afterwards when you took off the skin that the full enormity of what you'd become and what you'd done as her would hit you.

***

And yet you couldn't stop...

GLUG, GLUG, MMMMPPHHH

Your bullies big fat cock felt good in your mouth.

NO... Mikayla's mouth.

You could feel the tip of his magnificent dick tickling your tonsils and your blonde hair, tied up in a pony tail was swishing as you deep throated him and looked up with lust filled eyes.

You knew that later you'd be sickened by what you were doing here, but right now as Mikayla it felt so fucking good.

Brandon grunted as he pushed his cock deeper. "Fuck yeah, take it baby. You're the best slut I've ever had."

You moaned submissively, your tight pussy already wet at the thought of Brandon bending you over and fucking you hard. You loved what a mean powerful bully he was. You loved watching him beat on boys that outside of this skin were actually your friends.

It made Mikayla's pussy drip... too bad it made male you feel so sick afterwards.

***

You purred as Brandon began to cum in your mouth. Fuck yessssss. Sucking and slurping you giggled as cum oozed down your throat and you ate every drop like a good girl.

You were a slut for your bully and you wanted more. This was going to be a fun afternoon...

"Fuck me baby. Fuck me and don't stop."

Brandon looked at you suspiciously as you told him about Mikayla. You'd wrestled with how to deal with this situation and decided that if you couldn't develop enough mental strength to resist putting on the skin again, you could at least prevent Mikayla from fucking Brandon anymore.

You couldn't take it anymore. Waking up as you to remember how Brandon had fucked all your holes just made you feel sick.

By telling your bully the truth, you were hopefully making her unattractive to him. Surely Brandon would no longer want to fuck Mikayla if he knew you were inside her. Surely it would stop her.

Opening the box you kept Mikayla safe in, you revealed the skin to prove it and Brandon's eyes widened in shock as he realised you were telling the truth.

Then his grin turned wicked. "Give that here," he exulted grabbing Mikayla out of your hands.

You watched in horror as Brandon took Mikayla and put her on. Seeing someone else step into the skin was strange. That was YOUR skin - but you realised with a horrible feeling of loss that it wasn't anymore.

Mikayla had a new host now... your bully. He moaned and gasped in pleasure as Mikayla's big tits attached to his chest and he pulled her face into place. He shook back her long blonde hair and laughed as he felt her pussy and tits.

"Hahah you fucking loser," he purred in Mikayla's sexy voice. "I feel incredible. Why would you ever tell anyone about this? Haha you idiot."

Brandon was the perfect wearer for Mikayla. Unburdened by conscience, uncaring of how evil he was when he put her on. Brandon loved being a cocksucking slutty bitch who got what she wanted.

And now that your dilemma was solved, you felt an unbearable desire to become Mikayla again.

Too bad you never would. You just weren't suited to her anymore...

[cherrylibby]

Dates & Nerves

part two of Turbulence & Temptation

Ever since that night at The Hard Deck—the night that ended with your back pressed against the bar, your hands tangled in his shirt, and his lips leaving you breathless—he’d made it his personal mission to get you to go on a date with him.

And every single time, you shot him down.

The first time:

“You, me, dinner this Friday,” Jake said confidently, leaning against the bar beside you, beer in hand.

You didn’t even look up from your drink. “No, thanks.”

Jake blinked. “That’s it? Just ‘no, thanks’?”

“Would you rather I say ‘hell no’?” you teased, smirking as you took a sip.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, challenge accepted.”

The second time:

“Alright, sweetheart,” Jake drawled as he leaned against your car, arms crossed. “I’m giving you another shot.”

You raised an eyebrow. “At what?”

“Admitting you wanna go out with me,” he said, grinning. “Dinner, drinks, maybe a moonlit walk on the beach?”

You hummed, pretending to think. “Sounds nice.”

Jake perked up. “Right?”

“Yeah, you should totally take Rooster,” you said, patting his shoulder before slipping into the driver’s seat.

His groan followed you all the way down the road.

The third time:

“You know,” Jake mused one night at The Hard Deck, “you keep rejecting me, but that just means when you finally say yes, it’ll be *so* much sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. “Optimism looks good on you, Hangman.”

“So does my name on your phone,” he quipped.

“You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, here you are, still talking to me,” he said, smirking.

The fourth time (and the one that finally worked):

Jake had gotten creative this time.

You walked into The Hard Deck to find him standing there, holding up a makeshift sign written in bold, messy handwriting:

"DATE WITH HANGMAN: FINAL OFFER”

You bit your lip to hide your laugh as the bar erupted in laughter and cheers. Even Penny was shaking her head behind the counter. Rooster was dying at a nearby table.

Jake grinned, shameless as ever. “C’mon, sweetheart. One date. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. One date.”

Jake fist-pumped like he’d just won a trophy.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered.

“You love it,” he shot back, winking.

And the worst part? Maybe you did.

Jake picked you up right on time, looking… different.

Not in a bad way. But he wasn’t wearing his usual cocky smirk. His hair was slightly messier, and—was that a button-down instead of his usual T-shirt or flight suit?

“You okay, Hangman?” you teased as you slid into his truck. “You look a little pale.”

Jake cleared his throat, gripping the steering wheel. “What? Me? I’m fine. Totally fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you nervous?”

“Nervous?” He let out a sharp laugh. “Pfft, no. That’s ridiculous.”

You smirked. “You totally are.”

“Am not.”

“Jake.”

“…Maybe a little.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Relax, Seresin. It’s just a date.”

Jake muttered something about how you were the problem, but you were too busy suppressing a smile to care.

And Then… Everything Went Wrong

The first sign that the night was not going to go smoothly came when Jake tried to pull out your chair at the restaurant—except he underestimated how light it was, and it nearly went flying.

“Whoa—okay, nope, got it,” he muttered, catching it just in time.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “Very smooth.”

Jake shot you a playful glare. “I am always smooth.”

The second disaster struck when he tried to order wine for the two of you—only to mispronounce the fancy French name so badly that the waiter blinked at him in confusion.

Jake cleared his throat. “You know what? Just… the house red.”

You did laugh at that one, and he groaned. “Are you having fun?”

You grinned. “A little.”

By the time the food arrived, Jake had knocked over the salt shaker, fumbled his knife twice, and spilled a bit of water on his shirt.

And yet… it was kind of adorable.

The usually cocky, confident Hangman was fumbling. For you.

It wasn’t until halfway through dinner that you decided to put him out of his misery.

“You know,” you said, tilting your head, “I think I like Nervous Jake.”

He groaned, running a hand down his face. “Glad someone does.”

You bit your lip, trying so hard not to laugh.

Jake groaned, running a hand over his face. “This is not how I planned this going.”

You reached across the table, gently placing a hand over his. “Jake.”

He glanced up, looking almost hesitant. It was such a rare expression for him—so different from his usual cocky smirk—that it made your heart squeeze just a little.

“I know this probably isn’t the perfect night you had in mind,” you said softly. “But… you don’t have to try so hard.”

Jake exhaled, shaking his head. “I just—I wanted this to be good" He paused, then added, almost sheepishly, “I wanted to impress you.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Jake, you already impress me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You smiled. “I already said yes.”

Jake exhaled, shoulders finally relaxing. “Noted.”

And from that moment on, the rest of the night? Perfect.

And when Jake dropped you off at your door, his confidence fully restored, he smirked down at you.

“So… second date?”

You pretended to think. “Hmm. I did promise to mock you forever if this went terribly.”

Jake leaned in, eyes twinkling. “And yet… you still had fun.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “Fine. Second date.”

And when he kissed you goodnight—this time with no nerves, no hesitation—you were already looking forward to it.

[vikuo-kuma]

“I will always be one step ahead”

—Teacher assistant! Hero! Reader x Various! Invincible

Warning?: probably description of blood?

Prologue Chapter 1

—————————————

Chapter 2

“I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow Oliver!”, you shouted from the entrance of the Grayson’s house hold.

“What— where are you going?”, Oliver looked towards you with some sort of puppy eyed expression. You faltered just a bit before answering, “I just have a— doctor’s appointment I have to go to!”

Just hoping that he didn’t see through your lie. It is a pretty solid statement. “Oh, oh right. Feel better soon, Teacher”, Oliver sounded innocent, just how a child should be.

“Be good to your mom and brother now”, you commented, ruffling up his dark hair.

Dashing out the door, you didn’t see who you just passed by. But he did.

Mark looks at your running form while walking towards the door. But it seems like he didn’t really paid attention as he just walked into the door FRAME, rather than the door. “Ow! What?”, he finally paid attention to his surroundings, seeing Oliver raise a brow at his older half brother.

“You better not be falling for my tutor, Mark”, Oliver seems to scold at his own family member. “What— what are you talking about?”, Mark scrunched up his nose as he tried to rub away the pain from before.

Walking inside his house before closing the door behind him.

——————(｡-_-｡)

“Damn it, that felt like an inappropriate time for an alert”, hiding within the alleyway, you snapped your fingers causing a suit covered your whole body.

It was like you were logging into a server. The main host? Your one and only computer freak sister. “Lena, what’s with the disturbance?”, flying straight up to where people can’t see you.

“There’s strange dimensional ripples occurring near a certain warehouse, I’m sending you the coords now”, moving her fingers around as she was typing really quickly. “It’s sent, head there quickly, there’s other people currently moving there”, eyes focused on the screen in front of her.

Zooming forward, you use your hands to see from far away.

It was them, the people from the GDA.

“Shit. Lena, it’s the Guardians”, sensing hesitation in your voice. You didn’t know if you should complete the mission or not.

“The organization. They should be able to hide you, but it’s only for 190 minutes”, Lena quickly sends a signal within the large screen.

“That’s more than enough, thank you Lena”, diving in quietly as a force field started to cover your body with in an instant. You knew that was a lie. But you might as well make yourself known to the people that called themselves heroes.

————（╹◡╹）

“So you’re the one who’s been teleporting around the place”

You landed in front of an almost humanoid thing, it seems to be chewing up wires and sucking up all the electricity. Interrupting the alien by flicking an energy orb at it, making the alien flinch.

“Quit doing that”, sounding frustrated, you walked closer towards the alien. Reaching your hand out towards the alien, wanting to compromise.

The alien looked confused and reached its hand out towards yours. “There you go, now you can understand me”, the alien looked shocked hearing its own language from a human. “It’s nice to meet you, dear human”, a feminine voice spoke up, bowing its head.

“Whats your name, and why are you here?”

“I am Yuni, I crashed down into earth because of an unknown entity near your planet. I was eating up your planet’s electricity because I needed it to get back home”, the alien explained throughly, still keeping her head down.

“I can take you back home, but first what is this entity you speak of?”

“Like I said, it’s pretty unknown to me. However, it seems to wear the color blue”, trying to recall the crash from earlier.

“I see.” You slice open the space between you and the alien before speaking again. “This should take you back home, it will close as soon as you step through the rift”, pointing the towards the rift, the alien thanked you and walked through it.

“Thank you kind human”, the aliens voice slowly disappeared as the rift closed up.

“Well that was easy… too easy..”

Something had grabbed you by the waist below, sending you almost flying towards the building beside the warehouse. “What the shit?!”, your eyes look towards the thing that’s holding you down.

Blue clothing. Just as the female alien had said.

Before you could crash into the building, you had steady yourself. Floating in the air, forcing the entity to stop its movement. Just by the looks of this entity, it doesn’t seem to want to talk.

“You are strong. You ARE STRONG!”

“Ouh. How manic”, you made a face, holding back your displeasure.

“But who am I to complain about a longer battle”.

—————ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

After the explosion, Mark stood up, surrounded by rumble still bruised up from the battle with the Maulers and their alternate versions.

The Guardians flew into the aftermath of the explosion, seeing the dead bodies and what’s left of the warehouse.

“Huh. I guess he really is Invincible”, Rex spoke up, getting out of the vehicle.

Mark looked at his hands, covered in a mix of his and the Maulers blood. Regretting what he had done. Rex tried to cheer him up, but it doesn’t seem to work.

“Listen to Rex, that’s what happens when you listen to my orders. They did this to themselves. We did good today. Head home”, Cecil commented through the ear piece.

Mark started to walk away from the scene with a face full of regret.

But that was interrupted by another loud explosion, kicking up dust around the team. They were on full alert, as the dust started to clear up.

It was them. The mysterious figure from the news report. And their visor seemed to look broken, exposing their eye to the Guardians. Under them was an entity covered in purplish blood, and it seemed to be knocked out for the moment.

———————

A/N: I think this should be taking place around the beginning of season 2, but Oilver is kind of older than the canon season 2 so yeahh. Also DAMN THIS IS LONG.

[hitoshilover]

parties

directory | masterlist

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary: parties are lame, but cute blue eyed boys definitely aren’t.

warnings: soft dom!gojo, praise, sprinkles of fluff, oral (fem receiving), penetration, very vanilla, just overall loving and sweet, mentions of drinking, hickeys

wc: 1K

a/n: happy im-out-of-hiatus-post

blaring pop music filled the room, accompanied by drunk individuals; not very much your scene, and neither was the blue eyed mans' across the kitchen. he looked in the fridge for water and, unfortunately, could not find any, "ugh," he sighed to himself. maybe he also wasn't having a good day, why not talk to him? he seemed like the only normal person here after all.

"'scuse me," you shuffled through horny couples and flirtatious personalities- finding your way to this interesting character.

you stood in front of him, looking up at his intensely crystal eyes, "hey," his voice fighting the loud music.

"are you having fun," you paused and he just stared at you...

he looked down, solemnly, "not really, no."

perfect- wait no that's rude, you thought to yourself. just perfect that he wasn't in the same state of mind as everyone else.

"you wanna talk about it?"

he shrugged, "why not."

the man must've known this house because he grabbed you and led you through the crowd and into a dimly lit room; it was silent and had a very warm feeling.

"whats' your name?"

"hey hey, don't try to divert the conversation, what's up with you," you teasingly protested.

he softly smiled, "i don't know, just kinda thinking a lot about the past recently. i thought being here would make me feel better- but i just feel worse."

"i understand, do you want to leave?"

"nah, it's my friends party."

"oh cool, how'd you two meet?"

the next hour and a half went by quickly, both of you sharing personal stories and just bonding. you'd not felt so close to someone in a minute.

"you make it really easy to talk," satoru admitted, his soft gaze reappearing on his face. his gaze deepened, as if staring right through you, placing an arm on your waist and inching closer to you at the edge of the bed.

"oh," you were slightly taken aback.

he locked eyes with your lips, "is this okay?"

you bit your lip and nodded, his other hand cupping your flushed cheeks. the sound of your heavy breath and his deep kisses flooded the room, louder than the music.

within less than 5 minutes, satoru lifted you onto his clothed lap, your black dress slightly lifting up and exposing your thighs. back and forth your hips rocked onto him as he left hickeys on your neck. the white haired boy held you close, fingers tangling into your hair.

you moved back for a minute, letting the straps of your dress trickle down your shoulders.

"shit," he mumbled in response to your teasing while slowly pulling down the remainder of the dress.

you unbuckled your bra, and as it fell he went to trace kisses down your chest making his way to your tender nipples.

you shifted, attempting to adjust to this new pleasure, "fuck," you sighed out.

"you're so beautiful," he whispered.

this wasn't just fucking, though you'd met him just about an hour ago, it was sex.

after a while of teasing your chest, you stood up to fully remove your gorgeous dress, satoru removed his dark suit, revealing his handsome figure. he stood up and walked over to you, making you look at him through your lashes, wrapping his strong arms around your pretty curves. his lips met yours once more, now accompanied by his length between your body- the mere though of him inside you excited you.

satoru spun you around and slowly placed your back onto the bed, never removing his gentle lips off yours.

he lifted himself, now moving onto the edge of the bed, his lips just as eager to eat your cunt as he was your face. satoru licked a stripe up your slit, making you squirm which was just enough to want to make you go crazy.

"you're so perfect like this," he peered up at you.

his tongue licked circles around your sensitive pussy, precum spilling out of you. you cried out his name, bucking your hips into his face repeatedly. your thighs slowly closed in on his face from the pleasure, this did not stop him. the shock of his nose touching your clit send you over the edge, causing you to cum all over his pretty face.

satoru allowed you time to recover your breath, "you did such a good job for me," he smiled.

he aligned his thick cock with your entrance and teased you for a minute, causing you to whine. since he didn't prep you, he slowly added each inch. you could feel your pussy stretching, but the pain and pleasure made you such a mess for him.

"holy shit, satoru," you gasped.

"i know, i know, pretty," his comforting words didn't do much for your physical pain but motivated you to take all of it.

inch by inch you adapted to his size, though he had to hold you in place. the pain was almost unbearable, but god damn was his praise worth it; and forget about it when he was entirely inside you.

"i knew you could do it, pretty."

slowly he motioned in and out of you, but as he went on he got more aggressive, more needy for your moans and perfect body. more needy to cum all over you and take you entirely. all he needed was someone to let him talk, but now he's making your body talk. your body couldn't handle his aggression, moving all over the place, but he held you down.

"it's okay, you're doing such a good job, okay?" he assured.

"mmm," you winced.

within only a few more thrusts he shoved his entire cock in your tight pussy, cumming inside of you.

"fuck," he grunted out.

you breathed heavily, entire face red and still so needy for him and his beautiful body. satoru was at eye level with your twitching cunt, watching the mix of both of you guys' falling out of you. he kissed your pussy teasingly, and you whined with each soft kiss.

satoru slid your dress on your sensitive body, and then he dressed himself.

he ordered a car to take you both to his place, he carried you up the stairs to his apartment. you wrapped your arms around his neck, and soon he softly placed you down on his bed. he replaced your dress with a t-shirt of his, and boxers. as you peacefully slept, he showered and then came to cuddle you.

[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 @fizzing-imagines 💕

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