#i hate diners oh god

[oculusxcaro]

As troublesome as Gotham can be, Pauli's is one of those places that rarely gets hit. It's open 24/7 and offers good food to all regardless of who they are and Pauli isn't afraid to hire former criminals like Jerry who used to be muscle for Scarface. Petty thugs who threaten the place for cash are just as likely to receive backlash from their fellow crooks as they would from law-abiding citizens because where else are you going to get a decent meal at 4am?

[bunnyb34r]

I'm really glad that when you get those money packs in mini brands capsules it comes in with another item, so you're not getting like 4 fun items and then 1 tiny pack of money. Bc I can see them being a real dick and just doing that. Instead we get SIX items :D

But can you imagine opening a capsule and every single item is a tiny money pack? Bc I can see them pulling that fucking shit. I really can

[lady-grace-pens]

I watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s for the first time this morning and I can’t stop thinking about how much I hated it. I can’t figure out why. But I also watched the first part of Barry Lyndon and I’m really into it so there’s that too

Rant in tags because I have thoughts and opinions

[merthosus]

The Deli

Summary: You saw Five and Lila cheating and end up in a random train station. As a Diner caught your eye you couldn't believe what or rather who was waiting for you inside. Summary: You saw Five and Lila cheating and end up in a random train station. As a Diner caught your eye you couldn't believe what or rather who was waiting for you inside.

Here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

"You have no idea what most of the Fives in here would do for you"

I stumble out of the train, almost tripping over the edge. This can't be, he would never. I hate him, I never thought that I could do this but I do. My heart was shattered, it felt like it was being torn out of my torso and ripped in thousand parts. How could he do this to me? How could he do this to Diego? I have no idea where I am, or rather when I am. But I didn't care I just walked along the train station. My heels clicked with every step they took. The sound echoed with every thud on the white tiles.

I caught them. Five was missing and in my head there where millions of horrible ideas what could be happened to him. I can't believe I worried. We gone through so much shit and he shattered everything just like it was nothing. I traveled so far with these damn trains, no idea how I could possible come home again, just to caught them kissing each other. These assholes! Slowly the sadness turned into anger and every step I take gets louder.

In the distance I see red light reflecting on the floor. I swear to god if this is a trainstation-stripclub I trow myself on the rails. Seeing so much today what I couldn't believe makes me getting the wildest ideas, expecting anything but normal. I step closer and what I see is a Diner. Without hesitation I enter. I would kill for a chocolate croissant and a nice cup of coffee right now. But as soon as I entered everything went silent. Even a fly could be heard.

As shocked as they were as shocked I was. "This can't be", I mumble to myself. Every pair of eyes, which stared me down, were his. The Five which was now coming out of the back, let his tablet fall onto the ground. The sudden loud noise made the other ones fall out of their trance. "Y/n?", a few said, but others were just looking. "She's mine!", one of the Five's screams. Others were already talking him down. Another was punching a different Five and two got them apart. Without hesitation one five stood up and walked towards me. "I am sorry it's been a long time since they seen you", he says confusing me even more. "i...I what the hell is going on?", I ask, not believing what I saw standing infont of me.

"You just kissed Lila and now you are talking with me as nothing has happened? And what is this here? A stupid joke?", I ask him outraged. "Oh no darling I am not the five you know. I am coming out of a different timeline, but wouldn't you like to sit as I explain?", he asks politely. Like it was the most normal thing I go to sit with him at one of the diner tables, ignoring the fact that at least twenty versions of my boyfriend were looking down at me. As we sit down the Five on the counter rushed to our table.

"The black coffee, cappuccino and the chocolate croissant will be on your table soon", he stumbles, while looking at me. "How...?", I begin to ask but he was faster gone than I could blink. I feel more comfortable now as I saw how the attention was no longer drawn to me. "Explain, now", I demand as I was staring the Five before me down. "Feisty, as I remembered you", he says. I can't help myself but smile a little bit. "Why are there so many of you? And why was the one so obsessed", I ask. He crocked his neck. "We are all different Fives, out of different timelines. Most of them lost their Y/n, that's why things got out of hand", he explained. "So your five cheated on you? That's new, none of us did that, guess a new timeline has formed. Why would he do that...?", he asks himself.

I was shocked, overdosed with unimaginable information. "So what happened to your Y/n?", I ask him, just releasing I went to far. "She died in a fight, Hazel shot her", he says. "Five over there, who said you were his. She killed herself", he explains some more. I can't believe what he was just saying. "I would never do such a thing", I say. "No. Yourself in this timeline wouldn't but the on in his did. It's the same with us, we are all the same but different at the same time. I would never cheat on you and that's the point", he looks down on the floor. "I will find him don‘t worry, he will pay for what he did", he says while my eyes get big. "No... no he's still my Five I...", I try to bring the words out of me.

"Darling...", he leans over the table looking me staring into the eyes. "You have no idea what most of the Fives in here would do for you. Every single one of us is better as this little small cocked asshole", he says. I get nervous and have trouble looking him into the eyes. "He doesn't have a small...", I try to say. "I know I know...", he interrupts me.

Let me know what you think in the comments!

[baronessvonglitter]

Like a Good Girl Should

mom's sleazy bf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: Your mom's sleazy new boyfriend Joel Miller is the last person you'd ever want to be alone with.. so how did you end up on his lap getting punished?

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, sleazy!Joel, dominant!Joel, using panties for masturbation, mention of dad in prison & brief prison r@pe joke, slut shaming reader's mom, mild violence, dubious consent (at first), spanking, thigh spanking, pussy spanking, rough fingering, threat of fisting, squirting, masturbation, ejaculation on body, no use of y/n, pet names ('daddy' and 'sir' for Joel; little girl, baby girl, darlin', sweetheart for reader), no specific age for Joel mentioned but there's still an age gap as reader is in college. (If I've forgotten any, please let me know!)

Author's Note: AKA I've got a hankerin' for some spankerin'!

I've had this fic on my mind for a week and now it's finally out. I tried to make Joel as sleazy as I could without being a total nightmare. Thanks to everyone who showed interest when it was a seedling of an idea. I'm honestly looking forward to writing whatever my next kink hyperfixation will be!

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

divider by @saradika-graphics👑

You fucking hate Joel Miller.

He's the asshole who moved in a few months ago.

With your dad in prison, your mom lamented the loss of a man around the house, until one night she brought Joel home with her after meeting him at a sleazy beer joint. And he never left.

He's offensive in every way: he doesn't pick up after himself, doesn't help out with the chores, drinks milk straight from the carton, and walks around in the morning in nothing but his briefs, proudly showing off his god damn morning wood.

Not that you've looked..

And every night it's the same hectic squeaking of your mom's bedsprings, the same quick, loud shrieks followed by moans that crescendo in pitch until it all falls silent, only to start up again fifteen minutes later.

Not that you listen.

He makes no secret about ogling you, making suggestive comments on your clothing (or lack thereof). You count the days until you have enough saved up to move out while you're still attending junior college.

When your mom's working the late shift at the diner down the road, you do some cleaning up while Joel sits on his ass watching some stupid 80s action movie. You gather your clothes and put them in the washer, one by one, making sure the right things are inside out, and that pant legs aren't twisted up.

You find your favorite pair of panties, hot pink silk, the first nice pair of panties you purchased yourself at a fancy lingerie store. Horror makes your stomach sink when you look closer at the crotch of the panties, seeing a glob of what you're one hundred percent sure is cum.

Joel.

You confront him about it and he doesn't even bother to deny it. He simply kicks back on the sofa (fully clothed for once) and tells you you should take it as a compliment.

You should take him jacking off into your favorite pair of panties.. as a compliment.

Seeing red, you tell him to fuck off, to get out, that you'll tell your mom what he's been doing, but he gets up and towers over you, backing you to the wall.

"You ain't gonna do shit, little girl."

"Try me," you dare him.

The look on his face makes you wonder if he'd rather kill you or devour you on the spot.

"Get the fuck out," you whisper, eyes blazing with fury.

"Listen, little girl, and listen good: I'm here whether you like it or not, so get used to it. As long as your mama wants a piece of this," he cups his crotch as you look away in disgust. "Then I'm stayin'. And as long as I'm stayin', it's my rules that run this place, you hear?"

"You can't tell me what to do!" You shout back indignantly.

He scoffs as you say that, irritation flaring at your defiant tone. He shakes his head, continuing to glare at you. "Oh, yes I can, darlin'. As long as you're livin' under my damn roof, I can tell you to do whatever I want you to do, whenever I damn well please."

"This isn't your fucking house!"

"I'm the only man here, ain't I?"

"Then I'm moving out!"

"No you're not! Don'tcha even think about it!"

"You gonna stop me?"

He lets out a dangerous rumble as you challenge him, his eyes narrowing, practically daring you to push him. "Try it and see what happens."

In your room you grab a duffel bag and cram some clothes and necessary items in there. Already Joel is storming into the hall, his boots loud against the wooden floor.

"You gotta be kiddin' me," he shakes his head.

"Told you I'm leaving. Don't know why you won't believe me."

"Where ya goin'? To that lil' drug dealer boyfriend of yours?" he sneers.

"So what if I am?"

"The hell you will. If you let him anywhere near you, I'm breakin' his damn legs."

His eyes go wide as you storm past him and head for the front door. His hand shoots out and grabs your arm before you can get too far. "Oh, no, ya don't," he growls, grabbing and jerking you back toward him. He grips your upper arm tightly as he spins you around to face him.

"Let me go!"

He scowls, keeping you in place in front of him. "No, I'm not lettin' you go, darlin'. Not until you quit bein' a brat and calm the hell down."

"Don't call me a brat!"

He grins at this. "Then stop actin' like one. You've been runnin' your mouth ever since I came here, and now you're makin' threats ya can't follow through on and bein' an uptight little bitch."

"Go to hell!" You spit at him, a glob of your saliva lands on his cheek and he wipes it off with his fingers, putting them them in his mouth to suck it off. You watch with mild disgust even as you're a little turned on.

"Oh, I should put you over my damn knee and tan that sassy little ass of yours until you behave yourself, darlin'."

You cross your arms. "You don't have the balls!"

A smirk crosses his face. "You can see for yourself, darlin'." He cups his crotch, drawing your eyes to him even though you don't want to.

"You really think I'm not gonna put ya over my knee and paddle that cute little ass 'til it's raw?"

"You wouldn't!"

A smirk creeps over his face at the uncertainty in your voice, his hand moves down to your hip, fingers digging in the flesh. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel your panties dampen.

"Nah, you're pussy's speakin' for ya. I can see it already, you soakin' up those lil' shorts of yours."

You're too turned on to risk speaking, struggling against him because it's the only way you can fight back, prove him wrong.

"There's no escape from daddy, darlin', You're stuck. And you're gonna be punished until ya behave yourself."

You growl, "You're not my fuckin' daddy!"

He grins at you, grabs a handful of your hair, yanking it brutally to force you to look up at him. "That's right. Your daddy's in prison, probably gettin' passed around like the little bitch he is. I'm your daddy, darlin', and don'tcha forget it. I'm the one protectin' you, takin' care of you, and now daddy's gonna put you in your place."

He jerks you towards the sofa, pulling you over his lap so your ass is squarely on his thighs, your top half pressed into the sofa cushions at an awkward angle, holding yourself up on your forearms so you can breathe, watching helplessly as he pulls down your shorts and panties in one go, leaving your ass bare to him. He drops your clothes to the floor. The way your positioned he can also see your pussy lips, swollen with excitement.

One arm on your back holds you down, the other trails its fingertips across your smooth, supple skin, giving you goosebumps, causing your cunt to clench, much to your horror.

"You've been very naughty today, darlin', haven't you?" he prefaces your punishment, giving your ass a light swat to punctuate his words.

You're too stunned to move or speak.

He runs his large, rough hand over your ass, squeezing one of your cheeks as he looks down at you, his voice low and stern: "Answer me, baby girl. You know you're supposed to answer your daddy when he asks a question." He gives your ass a sharper smack, the sound of his hand on your flesh reverberating in the room, shameful to your ears.

You give a sharp gasp. "Yes! I was being naughty!"

"That's right. You were bein' a bad girl, a sassy little brat who keeps gettin' smart with daddy." He rubs his hand over your ass, then gives it a few little swats, each one harder than the last, building up a stinging heat on your flesh.

You squirm under each spanking, seeking friction for your aching clit.

"Stay. Still," he orders in a growl.

"Daddy, it aches," you whine, not talking about the spankings. There's a wetness growing between your thighs, glistening, catching Joel's attention like a raven sighting something shiny in the grass. He growls, his touch hovering over your folds, not yet ready to give in to your needs.

"I know it aches, baby girl. But it's supposed to. It's your punishment for being a naughty little brat." He doesn't allow himself to focus on it, his hand grabbing your thigh instead. "Open your legs wider," he commands when you try to squeeze them together to get some relief.

Your scent rouses him when you open your legs just a little. He forces them apart and slaps the insides of your thighs, his dick getting harder when you cry out from sensitivity.

"Does that hurt, baby girl?" his voice is mockingly gentle as he runs his calloused fingers over your inflamed skin. When you nod instead of giving a vocal answer he slaps another palm against your already-stinging skin. "Answer me," he warns.

"Y-yes.." you reply, trying like hell to close your legs, but he keeps you down, keeps them forced apart just enough. "Fuck.." you mutter, eyes closed as more of your desire drips out of you, running down your thighs to his jean-covered lap.

He feels your excitement, the warmth you give off, feels your slick dripping out of you like sap from a tree. He knows if he slides inside you right now you'd be hot, wet, accommodating his fingers, his tongue, his cock, whatever else he wants to put in your little fuckhole. But he has control. He waits you out.

"What was that?" he snaps, giving you another spank, slightly harder than before. "Did you just curse at me, baby girl? I don't think I'm gonna go easy on you if you're gonna keep usin' that filthy mouth for that kinda language."

The dark, damp spot you created on his jeans grows, as does his enjoyment. He's hard as a rock, wishing you were placed just so so that you can feel it. He imagines you rubbing your needy unclothed cunt across the crotch of his jeans, satisfying yourself on just his clothed cock.

"Are you enjoyin' your punishment?" He mocks you once again, lightly brushing his knuckles across your puffy, drooling pussy lips, smirking when you whimper and shiver, trying to lift your hips to his touch. "Shh.. you don't get to be greedy right now, sweetheart. This is daddy's time to teach you a lesson. You're gonna be a good girl and let me teach you that lesson, aren't you?"

"Yes, daddy," you whine. Your entire body is aflame with need, brimming over with desperation. You'll do anything he wants, suck his cock, take his dick in whichever hole he pleases, so long as your frustration is released, so long as you get to come.

"That's more like it," he praises, his hand moving across your sore buttocks, softly touching before landing another stinging slap. "Good girls listen to daddy, and good girls take their punishments without complainin' and cryin'. They just take it, like a good girl should."

The need for friction, your pussy left wanting and vulnerable, brings you to tears, despite his warning not to cry, "Wanna.. be good for daddy."

"I don't know if you can be good.. don't know if it's in your nature. Got a felon for a father and a whore for a mother. I think you're just plain bad.. might need to stay on my lap for a long time." He lands a slap, watching your ass jiggle with the force of it.

"Please," you whine.

"Aw, what's wrong, darlin'? You seem like somethin's botherin' you." Two more slaps, one on each ass cheek before he grabs one at a time, squeezing hard on the flesh, relishing the heat radiating from your skin, and spanking them again. "How's your ass feel, sweetheart? All warm and tender and sore?" He soothes you with his hand.

"Yes.. yes, sir."

He chuckles lowly. "Daddy likes it when you call him 'sir'. You get points for that, baby girl. Now answer my question."

Question..question.. Every time he speaks, his actions override it, but he did ask how you were feeling, if you were sore. "Yes. But I still ache.. inside."

His cock twitches in his jeans and he adjusts himself beneath you. "Still achin' inside, huh? Need some relief? Need daddy to help you out?"

"Yes, daddy." Your fingers grip the couch cushion.

He gives your hair another tug, yanking your head back, forcing you to look up at him. "What did I tell you just now about callin' me 'sir'?"

Your eyes meet his and you swallow, but your mouth refills with saliva. Your mouth is as wet as your cunt, hoping he'll fill one or the other. Preferably both. "Yes, sir, daddy.. please.. help me."

"You're so sweet when you ask so nicely, beggin' me to take care of you." He lets go of your hair, his hand caressing your lower back and ass in a gentle, soothing way.

"But I ain't gonna fuck ya. You're not my type."

What you get instead is another spanking, then another, and another, until your ass feels raw, until it's nearly numb, then Joel presses two fingers deep inside, cramming you with his thick digits. Gasping a shuddering breath, you push back on him, only for him to take them away, spreading your wetness on your backside.

"You're just like your mom.. needy as a feral cat. Can't ever get enough," he grumbles, giving you another smack before inserting his fingers again, spreading your thighs wide as he shoves them in and out, smiling when he hears your cries of pleasure, the way you squeeze around him as if to keep him there. If it was his dick in there he'd have cum already, you're so snug and wet around him.

He removes his fingers again when he feels you close to the edge and your frustrated groan brings a smile to his face.

"Please, daddy.. sir.. Joel.." Whatever he wants you to call him. "Please don't stop!"

"You're gonna have to be quiet or I'm gonna stick my whole hand in this lil' pussy, stretch it out so nothin' else will ever fit."

You're shivering, your body on edge for his touch, and the fucker knows it. And you know he'll make good on his threat. You force yourself to be quiet, only the smallest whimpers escaping your lips once his fingers slide into you again, this time adding a third finger, unable to help it when you moan, "Oh, god, daddy!"

This time he doesn't pull away, keeping his fingers in a steady thrust inside you, using his free hand to slap your ass, mixing the pleasure with the pain. He parts your thighs further, lifting your hips to smack your pussy, grinning when you jolt forward, crying out, not allowing you to close your legs when you get overstimulated, continuing to land slaps upon your sensitive flesh until you whimper another please, daddy.

He mutters something unintelligible, bringing his fingers back to your soaked cunt, your juices creating an even bigger stain on his jeans. Pumping his fingers in and out, he scratches that itch, finds that spongy tissue inside that drives every woman crazy, and he rubs against it, watching you writhe, listening to your ragged gasps and desperate pleas until you squirt, your fluid dousing his hand and his lap until you beg him to stop when you become oversensitive.

He could continue, he could give you more, go all night, but he doesn't have as much patience as he used to. Positioning himself behind your sprawled out figure on the sofa, he takes himself from his jeans and strokes his length urgently, spilling his cum on your still-quivering ass and your drenched cunt.

Satisfied, he smears his cum all over you with his dick while it's still half-hard.

"Ain't that pretty," he comments. "Now, you ain't tellin' your mama nothin', and we can come to some kind of agreement that benefits us both.. right, my good girl?"

Exhausted, empty, you nod. "Yes, daddy."

tag list 💕: @survivingandenduring @evolnoomym @mountainsandmayhem @pedroswife69 @wannab-urs @lunamothgoth @inept-the-magnificent @karaslqve

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt5

Danny groggily propped himself up as he heard the loud bang of his door being thrown open

"DANIEL VLADIMIR FENTON!"

Blinking a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes, Danny glared at Tucker, "Middle name? Really?" He hated it, so very much, hated that he thought it was cool when he was a kid, and hated it so much more after the portal incident, it wasn't enough for his parents to have Vlad be his godfather, Danny's middle name had to be that fruitloops as well.

Damn his parents for being such caring friends.

Tucker met Danny's glare as he crossed his arms in the doorway into Danny's room

He would cut an intimidating figure if Danny didn't know him, suit and tie perfectly pressed with a PDA held in one hand.

"I know you said that you got the Bats at the diner place thingy you are working at now last night, but did you have to call them out? Red Robin and Oracle have been trying to track you for the last 5 hours, I have had to summon Technus in the WE employee bathrooms! Thank God Mr Wayne included baby changing stations in each stall or I would have had to carve a sigil into the fucking wall! And I think *he* bricked the Batcomputor!" Tucker screeched as he paced the clear area of Danny's messy room

Scrubbing at his eyes, Danny sat up fully, more awake than he was a minute ago, "S-sorry? Didn't really think about them being sore bitches about it, I tagged them like once and set it online, they probably get hundreds of tags an hour. How was is supposed to know that they would read it?"

Tucker snarled, holding out his PDA for Danny to see "Not just Nightwing and Red Robin, half the God damn Young Justice team, The Titans are all over Nightwing, and all the rest of the bats are laughing their asses off! Look!"

<@Superboy_(the_hot_one)

[@not-that-red-robin.real wow Rob, if I knew u were broke I would have have asked Lexie to give u some cash]

<@Beep-Beep!_(official-Impluse)

[ @not-that-red-robin.real that's not very lit fam Gucci of u RR not very rizztastic and definitely isn't skibidi

@living-legend(Yes_that_wondergirl)

<@not-that-red-robin.real for fucking shame Red Themyscira has laws for bitches like you comere I am gonna cut off your thumbs.

Letting out a laugh, Danny was grinning as he scrolled through to Nightwings part.

<@theonetrueblueborg

[@.realwing: it's giving "my daddys rich and will take the bill" wing]

<@veggiemonster

[@.realwing: bro

:BRO

:Broooooooooooo]

<@Goth (Taylor's version)

[@.realwing: shame.]

Danny was full on laughing now, ad from what he could see through tears, so was Tucker, standing up with a weaze, "O-oh my Ancients....ugh t-that is just great"

Letting out a few more chuckles, Danny handded the PDA over to his friend, "I am sorry about getting the Bats aware of me, but I am not sorry for calling them toxic thinks."

Tucker sighed, running his forehead but still had a smile on his face, "You do know #NightwingsAssIsCancelled is trending right now?"

Danny couldn't hold back the cackle that shot through him at that.

---

Tim held his head in his hands, above him was his laptop, cycling through rebooting and then crashing, it had been five minutes so far, and if the last cycle had told him anything it would be up to that for another five minutes.

Groaning, Tim dragged himself up, he hadn't slept much last night, spending most of it trying (and failing) to get any information on the employee of Big C's, Danny nolastname he could find.

That was part of the problem, anytime he got even a smidgen close, it was like someone bitchsmacked him away. Even Babs was having trouble, she got a single thing before getting locked out of her own systems with baby shark playing on loop through her speakers.

He didn't know what to feel, humiliated that he was being actively cock blocked for information or excited since this is the first time in a while something was so difficult! The bear fact that he was being blocked so hard meant that there was something to block with this kid!

Stumbling down to the dining room, Tim didnt spare the table of his family a glance until he had gotten the pre-made cup of coffee from Alfred, letting the bitter drink wake him fully.

Finally turning to the family at large, he saw Bruce doing his best impression of a stone statue (Normal Damian was openingly glaring at him (slightly less normal), Dick was face down in a bowl of cereal (vaugly normal) and Cass was giggling while putting clips and sparkling things into Dicks hair (okay back to normal again)

Sitting in his spot across from Damian, Tim sighed, which seemed to be enough for Damian to go off on him.

"Are we paupers Drake? Has the CEO position at WE pay so little? And what of your own company? I was unaware that Drake Industries has fallen on such hard times!" Damians words rolled out like a lazy river, smooth and uncaringly cold.

"Oh my God, I am already planning on going back tonight and settling the fucking tab Dami, lay off it." Getting the expected "language" statement from both Bruce and Alfred, Tim drained his coffee cup, not so slamming it down but close to it before Damian could respond.

Eyes shooting to Bruce he huffed, "Meeting. Vlad Masters. One ish hours away."

Bruce's eyes shot to Alfred who only raised a brow at the two and Bruce stiffened "We can speak later in my Study Tim, eat something other than coffee and we can go do that." Getting a nod from Alfred, Bruce seemed to deflate with a sigh.

Grumbling, Tim picked at the plate of food Alfred placed in front of him, before forcing himself to eat, he would need energy more than coffee.

After managing to finish half his plate, Tim stood, "Come on, I need yo clue you in to somethings I was researching last night B..."

---

Bruce stayed silent as he sat down in his office, a tablet on his lap as he went through the test results once again.

"...are you saying me and Dick had Lazarus water laden food last night?" Tim said with frigid calmness

Biting back the urge to clam up and try and keep his son from worrying, Bruce nodded, "Trace amounts yes, I am unsure of its origins, the samples I was able to pull were much more pure than we are used to. How are you feeling?"

He watched as Tim held his face in his hands, massaging his temples before speaking, "Fine really? A little tired, appetite isn't there but that's normal...been feeling a strange sensation in my side but that is just likely phantom pain."

Noting everything down, Bruce nodded slowly, "Dick mentioned that he was still full feeling after a night's sleep and that some old wounds were feeling strange, I can only assume you are feeling your splenectomy scar?"

Sighing at Tim's agreement, Bruce noted a few more things down, making holding the last line to ask Damian if he had any knowledge on eating food effected by the pits, and another one not to tell Jason about this all in case it triggers something in him

"Putting that aside, B, what about Masters? Vladco makes medical stuff right? Shady business practices?" Bruce gave a grunt, switching the tabs on his pad to show him thr information on Vladimir Masters.

"Age 48, male, standing 6'1, weighs about 180, doctorate in theoretical quantum mechanics, had a lab incident preparing for a theise that left him hospitalized for some time, after he recovered and graduated is when his suspected criminal activities began, since then he has had several business owners simply sign their lively hoods to him...I suspect he is Meta with some sort of mind control abilities, the lab accident would make sense in awakening his Mets gene."

Bruce spoke as he handed the tablet over to Tim, "He sponsors several scientists with various types of study, two that stick out are Doctors Fenton and CADMUS."

Tim pulled a face as he followed along through the tabs of research "CADMUS? Really? So we are looking at some Midwestern millionaire that is totally not a supervillian in the making...what's up with the Fentons?" Handing the tablet back Tim flopped down into the chair opposite to Bruce.

"I am trying to figure that out, so far I know they went to school with Masters, and were there with him during the lab accident, the continual funding Masters is giving them makes me suspect they are just as involved in what ever Masters is to to..." Bruce was going to continue when there was a knock on the study door, and Alfred poked his head in.

"If you wish to be on time to your meeting, I would suggest Master Timothy get dressed now so you both might be in the car while I drive it to Wanye Towers."

Bruce frowned, but nodded, giving time a small smirk as the teen begins to realize he is just in a winkled t shirt that Bruce was 95% sure was Conners, and a pair of shorts that Bruce was very sure were Barts.

[lacy-oh-lacy]

Property of Jennifer ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Jennifer's Body Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Jennifer Check x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Jennifer fingers you under the table while you're on a date... with someone else.

CW: DubCon, Toxic!Jennifer, Jealous!Jennifer, hidden-public, exhibitionism?, fingering, mention of spanking, reader goes on a date with a guy (the scene still makes sense if you're not into guys though)

Adam was the worst kind of jock stereotype. A total idiot. Somewhat charming until anything didn’t go his way. A guy who made it his goal in life to sleep with as many women as possible and then slut-shamed the few he actually got under his belt.

He wasn’t your type in more ways then one, yet on a Friday night you could’ve spent doing anything else… you were sitting across from him at a shitty diner, helping him stumble through small talk.

You blamed Jennifer entirely.

If she hadn’t of fucked and ghosted you AGAIN, you wouldn’t of been so desperate to get her out of your system that you’d say yes to the first loser to ask you out.

Adam wasn’t your main concern at that moment though. Your main concern was the devil herself, striding into the diner you knew she hated in the shortest skirt she owned …and for the first time in a week she was looking right at you.

Your attention had been wavering all night but you must of been obvious that time because Adam checked over his shoulder, following your gaze  and catching sight of Jennifer a second before she arrived at your booth.

“Oh my god, hi!”

That valley-girl voice of hers made your heart flutter but you knew to raise your guard.

“Jennifer, hi… what are you doing here?”

She laughed, a plastic sound. “I could ask you the same thing.”

The thought of deflecting as skilfully as she had done was appealing, but instead you ripped the Band-Aid off. You were done caring about what she thought.

“I’m on a date actually.”

The strain in her smile wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t watching her reaction so carefully.

“Oh, where’s your date?” She looked around, eyes very obviously passing over the man in front of you.

Oof. You didn’t exactly like the guy but you felt a secondhand sting at that. Cringing, you shot Adam an apologetic look as he waved a hand to get her attention.

“Uhh that’d be me.” 

“Oh!” 

Despite her passive-aggressive tone, her big glossed smile softened the blow. It made it hard to be mad at her. At least it did until she turned her head away from him to mouth “yikes.”

Suddenly she sat down cramped against you, hand dropping to your thigh. “Well I’m just waiting on my own date. Mind if I sit with you guys for a few minutes?”

You didn’t know what made you tenser, wondering where the hell she was going with this or the hand caressing your thigh.

“Well, like I said we’re on a date. So actually-“

Said date cut you off as he leered, slack-jawed at Jennifer. “It’s fine. What’s a few minutes?“

You gritted your teeth, mind badgering you with images of all the other places you could’ve been that night. “Why do you even want to sit here?”

She groaned. “He said it’s fine. Take a chill pill.”

Jennifer’s words were accompanied by a squeeze to your thigh and you jumped. It didn’t hurt but you felt your skin buzz under her touch, heat spreading low in your stomach.

Jennifer’s attention seemed to go back to Adam but that didn’t stop her from keeping yours with her hand inching up your skirt.

“So, I didn’t catch your name.”

He frowned, a crack in his horny haze. “Are you serious? Adam… We sat together in chem?”

“Okay, geez, don’t go stalker-boy on me.”

Her tone was just light enough to let the comment slide, but you could almost physically feel the mood slowly sinking.

She turned to you, face too innocent to have her hand so close to your privates. “What about you, how’d you two meet? Was he hanging outside your house with binoculars and a stiffy?”

“We also met in chem.” He answered for you. His tone was dryer, welcome already wearing thin. 

Apparently Adam’s ego was the one thing stronger than his libido. 

Unlike yours. Jennifer’s wandering hand was dangerously close to making you forget that you were even mad at her.

“I’m sorry, was I asking you?” She leant into you, ‘whispering’ at a volume you were sure the next table over could hear. “Does he always talk over you like that?”

The question and the underlying insult went over your head. Feeling Jennifer’s breath on your neck clouded your brain and feeling the tip of her finger begin dragging up your slit through your panties short-circuited it.

Fortunately a waitress came over, putting a pause on the tension at the table. Unfortunately that was when Jennifer’s finger reached your clit.

Your eyelashes fluttered and you bit your lip to keep back a moan. This was way too risky. The waitress would move on from Adam to one of you any second.

“What are you doing?” You hissed against Jennifer’s ear.

Unfazed she whispered back. “You’re lucky I’m not bending you over my knee.”

Then she turned back, looking the picture of innocence when the waitress addressed her.

“Anything for you, Dear?”

The woman looked so demure and unassuming. You had no idea how Jennifer could look her in the eye while drawing circles on your clit.

“Actually she’s only staying a few-“ Adam started.

“I’ll take a coffee.” Jennifer interrupted, smiling brightly.

“It’s a little late. Do you want that decaf?”

“No. I’m not planning on doing much sleeping tonight.” The subtext in that sentence embarrassed you enough but then Jennifer turned to you. “You want anything else? My treat.”

That sent the waitresses gaze your way and your face burned. You really didn’t want a stranger looking at you right now.

“No thanks.”

You cursed your squeaky, cracking voice and averted your eyes as quickly as possible.

Even with your awkward position limiting her, it was like Jennifer’s touch electrified you. An overwhelming pleasure followed her fingertips and you could only swallow your reactions to it for so long.

As the waitress went on her way Jennifer tugged at your panties and mindlessly taking the cue you raised your hips just enough for her to pull them to your knees.

That was when Adam’s focus returned to the two of you and you startled, realising what the fuck you were doing.

He was totally gonna catch you!

But then Jennifer’s fingers pushed inside of you, curving and making you see stars, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You could only spread your legs wider and silently pray you didn’t look as wrecked as you felt.

“Okay, I’m sorry, how long were you planning on staying? Don’t you have a date coming?” Adam huffed.

“Yeah.” She looked slyly at you “any second now.”

You writhed in your seat. Embarrassment, guilt and so much lust created a boiling hot cocktail inside of you.

“Whatever.” He sighed, leaning back in his seat and staring at the ceiling.

Jennifer snuck her other hand under the table and you gasped loudly at sudden, rough friction against your clit. 

Sure enough that caught other patrons attention. As people glanced at you you didn’t know what you wanted more… to cum or for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

“Hey, you good?” Adam asked.

“Yeah… yeah, just um, water went down the wrong pipe.”

You hadn’t touched your glass since Jennifer showed up but you trusted he wouldn’t of payed enough attention to know that.

“You should be more careful.” Jennifer said, tone loaded in way that made you squirm.

It was really, really hard to be careful with the high she was working you into. It was too much, the way she massaged your g-spot while three flat fingers rubbed quickly over your pussy. 

Hellish heat overtook you as she brought you over the edge. It took everything in your power to keep your mouth shut, face pointing down to hide your shame.

You gripped the table like a lifeline as pulse after pulse of pleasure rocked your body. Her touch became almost overstimulating.

You felt Jennifer’s breath on your ear before you heard her silky, hushed voice “You’re mine. Got it? Don’t forget that again.”

Cool air hit your warm centre as she pulled out and you nodded eagerly. Thrumming with the aftershocks of orgasm you barely registered Adam’s voice.

“Hey what’s up with all the whispering? I swear, you’d think you were on a date with Jennifer.”

[emphistic]

Doctor's Orders

Synopsis: Sukuna catches a cold, and isn't able to make it to your guys' planned lunch. Luckily for him, though, you still take the food — as to-go.

A/N: i have a lot of works planned, but im kinda slow, thankfully i have a lot of free time now so i'll try to pump out as much sukuna content as i can

PS: i got sick the second day of writing this, why world? whyyyyy? also, i hated writing this. i am not proud of this whatsoever

Taglist: @starlets-things

You

Hey

R u dead or smth??

You're late

Delivered 25m ago

Those were the last text messages you sent Sukuna, before picking up two hummus wraps and drinks from Sunny's Diner. The two of you were originally supposed to meet up there and have lunch together, but the pink-haired teen wasn't answering his phone, at all.

Now, you stand before his front door. A to-go bag tucked under your arm, and another hand rapidly knocking on the door.

Mr. Itadori — Sukuna's grandpa — wasn't home, you assumed, so you were alone in this.

Sighing, you decided to do this the old fashioned way.

It took you less than five minutes to climb the tree outside of Sukuna's bedroom, and five seconds to crawl on a branch to his window.

Finally, you pressed your face up against his window, and saw Sukuna — still in bed — with the blankets covering all of his body.

You aggressively knocked on his window, and saw him moving under the blankets before sticking a head out. He immediately fell back onto his bed at the sight of you.

He looked awful; there were bags under his eyes; his hair looked like a bird's nest, not to mention, he was sweating all over.

"Open the window!" You shouted, loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough to not disturb the peace in the neighborhood.

Despite being outside, you could practically imagine his groan at the sound of your voice.

Sukuna knew he had no choice, though, so he begrudgingly got out of bed, and walked — no, wobbled — over to his window. His arms felt like Jell-O as he opened his window, and you crawled into his bedroom.

As soon as your feet touched the floor, you felt a familiar weight fall upon you, before you crashed into the wall and onto the floor. You were in a pile of tangled limbs.

"Sukunaaaaa, oww!" You rubbed your forehead.

You tried to stand back up, but the boy's body would not give you the chance to.

"Get off of me, you slug."

"I'm good." He mumbled into your neck.

"You're too heavy," you pushed at the older's shoulders until he finally rolled off of you.

You sighed in relief. "Thank God."

You stood up, pulling Sukuna with you. Despite his size, you had to practically hold him, and yourself, up.

"You look like shit." You cupped his face to get a good look at his condition.

"Wanted to look like you."

"Well, you failed. I'm flawless."

You maneuvered the boy to his bed and let him flop down onto his stomach, before you rolled him over on his back to a more comfortable position.

You grabbed a blanket and placed it onto Sukuna, and you sat down on the side of his bed, your hand placed just inches away from his head.

"So, like, you gonna tell me what's wrong?" You raised a brow.

"What do you think, dumbass. I'm sick," he coughed, "duh." Sukuna quickly retorted, curling onto his side in order to put his head on your lap.

"How'd you get sick?"

Sukuna glared up at you.

You sigh, carding your fingers through his pink, unruly hair. He hummed, clearly content. And if you didn't know better, you would probably assume he was purring.

"Oh! I almost forgot," you rummaged through your bags; Sukuna grumbled at the lost feeling of your hands in his hair almost immediately. "I got food for us. Since someone decided not to show up."

You placed his hummus wrap — covered in foil — onto his bedside table, and set yours likewise.

"Have you eaten yet, 'Kuna?"

"I haven't had breakfast," he murmured.

"You could've just said a quick 'no'."

"Girls are so bossy."

"Hey—"

Sukuna cut you off with a whine. "Ughh, my throat hurts. And my head is throbbing."

You rubbed your chin with your thumb and index finger. You put the back of your hand against Sukuna's forehead. "You have a fever."

"Really? I couldn't tell."

"Take off your shirt," you demanded.

"In your dreams."

"More like my nightmares," you giggled, before helping Sukuna to remove his shirt.

You stood up to walk to his bathroom; Sukuna was quick to pull you back by the wrist. Even when he's sick, he's still got a strong grip.

"And where do you think you're going?"

You tugged your arm out of his grasp, "Don't."

You managed to enter the bathroom — without any more nagging from Sukuna — and grabbed a towel, soaking it in cold water.

Then, you walked back into his room, and placed it atop his forehead. Sukuna immediately went to remove it, before you swatted his hand away.

"Get this thing off of me. It's freezing," Sukuna scowled.

You had to restrain yourself from putting him in shackles, "This is literally helping you. So, shut up. You talk too much."

"This is literally," he coughed, "my house. Don't tell me what to do, girl."

"Doctor's orders."

"Nuh uh, you're far from a doctor. More like a witch instead," Sukuna snickered.

You rolled your eyes, already used to Sukuna's antics by now.

"Do you have medicine anywhere in the house?" You asked, caressing his cheek and rubbing it with your palm.

"Mmhm." He nuzzled his face impossibly closer into your hand.

You sighed, "C'mon. Work with me here, 'Kuna. Where's the medicine?"

A long break of silence, "'m not gonna tell you."

"Tell me, or else, or else I'll — ," you thought for a moment, "or else I'll tell your grandpa. And you know how he takes of people when they're sick."

Sukuna's eyes immediately shot open. He knew his grandpa's old fashioned ways.

"It's in the cabinet in the kitchen. The one above the fridge."

You struggled to reach, having to stand on your tiptoes, but at last, you brought a bottle filled with red liquid and a measuring cup to Sukuna's bedroom.

When you entered, he immediately started to move away from you. Alas, he only had so much room on his bed.

"I would rather die, than drink that shit." Sukuna pointed at the cup with his finger.

"Then die," you quipped back, shoving the cup — that you filled with medicine — into his hands.

Sukuna glared at you, but you remained unwavering in your demand. When he realized there was no point in trying to argue, he leaned his head back and drank.

"Weirdo," you sneer.

"What's the problem now?" Sukuna placed the now empty cup on his table and fell back onto his bed, covering his eyes with an arm.

"You drank the medicine like it was a shot."

"Doesn't matter."

Sukuna began to cough, and cough, and cough. He sat upright.

You rubbed his back.

Sukuna felt utterly selcouth. He never had someone help him through a sickness. Sure, Grandpa was always there, but he's different. Sukuna's had tutors, coaches, people whose jobs were to help. But it wasn't your job.

"Why?" Why do you help me? Sukuna asked.

You know why. But those words never left your mouth. Instead,

"Shh. Be quiet. Let me take care of you."

At the end of the day, you knew why you were helping Sukuna. And Sukuna knew how you were helping him.

You tucked him in, raised the blanket up to his shoulders, adjusted the towel on his forehead, and kissed his forehead.

"Don't overexert yourself," you walked to the door, "I know you will."

Sukuna wanted to call your name, have you stay by his side, run your soft fingers through his hair for just a little longer, but his throat itched, and he didn't even have the energy to cough or sneeze. So, alas, he shut his eyes, and dreamt instead.

[lesservillain]

older!alpha!steve harrington x younger!omega!reader

cw: SMUT, omegaverse dynamics, unprotected piv, modern setting, steve is a divorcee and single dad, steve is in his early 40s and reader is in their mid to late 20s an: this is just a self indulgent lil one shot bc i love older men ugh

“She was totally checking you out, by the way.”

Steve pushes the frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his attempt to hide the pink that dusts over his cheeks at Robin’s comment.

“What? No she wasn’t. Don’t do this today.”

The plastic of the menu bends in Steve’s grip by Robin’s ringed fingers. He tries to focus on the suns glare hitting the laminated paper rather than his best friend’s knowing gaze. He hates that she does this to him.

 It wasn’t their first time at this diner, nor was it their first time being waited on by you. What started as Robin’s attempt to get her depressed best friend out of the house after a quick but painful divorce has turned into a regular bi-weekly Sunday outing for the pair. And thanks to Robin’s commitment to a bit, she makes sure to arrive before Steve every time to sit in your section, all because she caught Steve checking you out one time.

“Why don’t you believe me that she likes you?”

“Robin—”

“Steve.” The tired battle of lifting Steve’s confidence was one that Robin refused to lose. “How many times do I have to tell you that you still got it? A little gray hair and a dorky mustache is, like, the new six pack abs for girls in their 20s.”

“Oh, god, do I need to have Hailey touch up my hair already?” Steve’s hands fly to cover the sides of his hair where his grays tended to show the most. The sudden movement sent his menu flying down to land on the floor next to him. 

“Shit—”

“Here you go—”

Skin meets skin when you went to grab the flimsy plastic at the same time as Steve. A shock wave runs from Steve’s finger through the rest of his body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hazel eyes jump up to meet yours, and he can feel the breath from your gasp on his cheek. You shoot up, frozen in place as you look down at him. The tension is palpable between you. 

Suddenly, you bolt, leaving Steve still leaning over his seat as he watches you take off out of sight.

“What was that about?” The tone in Robin’s voice had Steve sitting up straight, annoyance clear in his expression.

“What was what, Robin?”

“Um, are we just going to ignore that pheromone drop you just did?”

Steve shifts in his seat, eyes wide as he looks around the diner. A few heads were turned to him, mostly older alpha’s with death glares as their marked omega’s sit blissfully unaware across from them. “Sorry.” He says in a hushed apology, shrinking back into his booth seat.

“Well, at least we have confirmation your girlfriend is an omega,” Robin says over a sip of her coffee. Steve’s ears perk up, but he does his best not to show his interest in the topic of you.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Steve says with a roll of his eyes. “I honestly probably just scared the shit out of her. Did you see how fast she ran off?”

“I’m sure you were watching.” Steve’s head falls back with a scoff, making Robin giggle at his embarrassment. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll stop now.”

“Thank you.”

“Are we ready to order?”

Robin and Steve turn to the waitress at the end of the table, immediately noticing she’s not you. They give the girl their order, and Steve can’t help but feel some type of way about how you would have just asked them if they wanted their regulars. With a heavy sigh Steve stares at the table’s vintage pattern until Robin calls his name. Her expression is soft, knowing in a way that is both relieving and disheartening.

“Maybe she’s on a break?”

“She hates me.”

“She does not hate you.”

“Yes she does. I’m a grown man who couldn’t control his pheromones all because a pretty girl touched his hand? We should probably just leave.”

Robin grabs Steve’s arm with a laugh as he attempts to make an escape from their booth. “Steve, it’s fine. I doubt you’re the first person that’s done that to her. Just relax.”

Steve sighs and nods. “Okay, okay. I’m good now.”

SPACE

“So you’re good to pick up the girls from practice this week, right? I’m hoping that this project will be wrapped up by Thursday--”

“Of course, Steven,” Robin says as she opens her car door. “You think I’d ever turn down the chance to spend time with one of my favorite nieces?” 

“I just want to make sure. I don’t want to give Becca any ammunition against me, you know.” Steve’s hands flex, thinking back to the argument him and his now ex wife had those months back.

Robin opens her mouth, but decides against whatever she had to say, simply nodding instead. “I’ll see you later, Steve.”

Steve nods back, watching as Robin gets in her car and drives away. He leans back to see her car disappear down the road before swinging his own door open and leaning inside. Reaching into his center console, he pulls out a pack of smokes and a lighter, bringing the butt to his lips and flicking the lighter. The flame refuses to stay, however, the clicking grating his ears with every failed attempt causing him to curse.

“Need a light?”

Steve spins around, bewildered, large hazel eyes like saucers when they land on you. A bright pink lighter sits between your fingers, and with a flick the flame emerges, waiting for him to lean in. He puffs until the heat hit his throat, pulling back to take in a deep drag, letting the smoke blow upward above him. 

When he looks back down at you, you’ve barely moved. Eyes lidded slightly and lips parted just so, almost like you were mesmerized by him. It makes Steve chuckle out of nervousness, not used to being ogled at his “big age” as his daughters would say.

“Thank you,” he says with a smile that seems to bring you back to this planet, eyes blinking rapidly before you pull out your own pack of cigarettes. 

“Yeah, of course.” Your eyes flicker up to him for a moment before giving yourself a light.

“You’re too pretty to be smoking,” Steve says passively, smoke billowing out between his own lips.

You look up at him through your lashes. For a brief moment you look annoyed at his comment and Steve is sure he fucked up again. The words of his oldest going on about how men shouldn’t comment on what women do rings in his ears and he wants to slap himself.

“Well, I could say the same for you.” There’s a teasing lit in your words, but the cute shuffle and bounce combo that you do gives Steve butterflies as it fuels his delusions. 

Channeling his former self, his mind shifts into King Steve mode after 20 years of retirement. He takes a step into your space and internally celebrates when you don’t move away. “Awe, you think I’m pretty?” The tone of his voice surprises him, coming out more sensual than he intended. But your reaction tells him that he must be doing something right.

“You’re definitely nice to look at.” Your words come out even but breathy. Was he really having this effect on you? Maybe Robin wasn’t wrong about him still having it in him.

“Oh, so you like to look at me?”

“Only for about an hour every other Sunday.”

Steve sucks in a breath. The way you’re looking at him right now is making him have thoughts that aren’t appropriate for the very public parking lot of your workplace. But he can’t get over the fact that you’ve been looking at him of all people.

“Is-is that so?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, taking a drag of your cigarette and blowing it out. “Would be nice to look at you for an hour from a different angle sometime.”

Steve coughs on his hit, completely thrown off by your forwardness. But you don’t seem to be deterred, rather you close the gap between the two of you, chests touching as you look up into his eyes.

Lips move in a feverish kiss as Steve pins you against his front door, keys fumbling in his hand as he attempts to unlock it while keeping the two of you connected. You giggle against his neck when he pulls away, leaving a few kisses against his skin as he finally gets the door open. His hands fly to your hips, walking you backwards into his home where his lips crash into yours once again.

“Nice place,” you say as he moves to leave heated kisses against your neck.

“Thanks,” he says between nips on your skin. A low groan pulls from his chest when he feels your hand slide down to palm at his crotch. A smirk forms on his lips at the little gasp you let out when you feel his size, and he bucks his hips into your hand playfully.

In one swift motion he lifts you up and over his shoulder, delighted by your laughter filled squealing as he carries you to his bedroom. Kicking the door open with a gentle shove, he walks you over to his king size bed and plops you down on the comforter. The huge smile and wild look in your eyes spurs him on, all the blood in his body rushing to his dick when you reach your arms out for him. 

Steve pulls off his shirt with haste, and your eyes fix on the healthy patch of hair that covers his chest that tapers down his stomach to where it disappears into his jeans. He feels a little self conscious under your gaze, but the way your tongue darts out of your mouth, licking across your bottom lip has him climbing over top of you to chase it with his own. 

Hands move between your bodies and clothes go flying until the two of you are fully exposed to each other. Steve’s hard, leaking cock presses into your thigh, laying heavy against your already hot flesh. Your fingers run through his soft locks as his mouth attaches to your breast, nipping and biting until his mouth reaches your hardened nipple. 

While his mouth pays your sensitive chest attention, his large hands have wandered down between your legs and began running his fingers through your folds. His fingers skim over your clit with each stroke, sending little jolts through your body.

“God, you’re so wet,” he breathes out, his blown out pupils meeting yours.

“Just for you,” you say with a smirk, one that turns into an open mouth moan when he finally plunges a finger into your waiting cunt. 

There’s no mercy as his fingers move inside of you just right, hitting that spot with a curled finger over and over. Your hands grip his shoulders, instinctively trying to push him away but he doesn’t relent. He just watches the way your face contorts as another thick finger joins in stretching you out for him. 

“So beautiful.” Steve doesn’t even realize he’s said it out loud, but he can’t think of another word to describe the way you look under him. “Doing so good for me, honey.”

His praises send you over the edge and you cum hard on his fingers. The way you squeeze his fingers mixed with the smell of your pheromones releasing has Steve’s cock twitching in anticipation. When you come down from your high, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck and pull him in for sloppy, appreciative kisses. 

“Mmm, gonna need you to fuck me now, big boy,” you say into his ear, tongue licking at his lobe in a way that makes his hair stand up on the back of his neck. Your soft hand slides down between the two of you to grab his cock and pump it a few times in your hand. “Do you have any condoms?”

Steve freezes above you. 

“Um, well no…” he stutters. “Me—uh, my wife— ex wife—,” he looks at you directly with his clarification, “she had her tubes tied so we, um, we never used them so I don’t have—”

You put a finger over Steve’s lips, hushing his babbling immediately. 

“It’s okay,” you say with a sympathetic look, “I understand. We can stop…or.”

“Or?” Steve asks.

“Or, if you don’t care…then I don’t care? Just pull out?”

Steve felt like he was going to bust in your hand as it worked his aching cock. Deep down he knew it was irresponsible. But the way you were making him feel was lowering his inhibitions. And when was the last time he’d ever been reckless? 

“O-okay,” he swallows dryly, “I’m okay with that. But, um, I do want to be transparent with you.” Your head tilts to the side waiting for his response. God, could you be any cuter? “I, um, I haven’t been with an omega in, like, 20 years. So, I just—just know I’m not sure how long I’m going to last, you know…”

“Your wife—”

“Ex wife—”

“Ex wife, she wasn’t an omega?”

Steve shakes his head. He’d never been one to care about second gender dynamics. Sure, there were elements to their alpha x beta relationship that didn’t fulfill him like an omega would, but he loved Becca all the same during their relationship.

You go quiet for a moment, and Steve is sure he’s completely ruined the moment between the two of you. He’s mentally preparing himself to take you back to your car, but you suddenly move beneath him in a way that flips him on his back. He watches as you straddle his lap, your dripping cunt hovering just above his cock where you still have your hand wrapped around it.

“You poor thing,” you say with faux perturbance, lowering down far enough that you can rub yourself against his length. “Gone all these years with no omega to make you feel good?” Steve nods dumbly, completely entranced by the dynamic shift between you. “Do you want me to fix that for you? Wanna fill me up with your alpha cock?”

“Yes—yes, please.” His voice comes out a pathetic, whiny plea as his glassy eyes stay laser focused on yours.

Without warning you sink down onto his cock, both of you moaning out at the sudden connection. Even with him stretching you out on his fingers and the amount of slick your body produced, your tight cunt still squeezes Steve like a vice as you take each inch of him like a champ. You move up and down, working yourself open on him and Steve can barely stand it, wanting to grab your hips and move you himself. But Steve breaths through it, nostrils flared,  until you’re seated completely against him, his cock buried to the hilt inside of you. 

“Hooooly shit,” he breathes out. Steve needs a second to keep himself from cumming too soon, but it’s a second that you don’t spare him as you begin to bounce on his cock. Leaning over him, your hands rest against his chest, giving him the perfect view of your tits as they bounce in his face. 

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you moan out, brows pinching as the head of his cock reaches deep inside of you. “Even for an alpha, you’re s-so fucking big.”

Steve finally lets his hands grip on your hips, but instead of moving you how he wants, he fights against you to still your movements. 

A pout forms on your lips as you look down at him, and Steve wants nothing more than to shove his cock in your mouth to get rid of it. But, you feel too good wrapped around him so he takes his thumb and pushes it past your lips instead. Immediately you begin to suck and mouth on it, slowly grinding your hips against him to get any bit of friction between you.

When he pulls his thumb from your mouth, it lands on your clit to rub slow circles into it. You whine at the stimulation, trying to buck your hips faster in order to chase your high. 

Loosening his grip, he lets you move against him again. Steve watches in awe at the way you come undone above him, picking up the pace on his thumb as you move with little rhyme or reason. He feels your body stiffen, jaw dropping with a silent scream as your cum all over his cock, your slick coating his balls and dripping down onto the bed sheets underneath you.

Steve is generous enough to give you a second to come down before he’s pulling you off of him and back onto the bed. He watches the way your chest rises and falls as you catch your breath, the far off look in your eyes fading away as you look up at him with a satisfied grin.

“Did so good, sweet girl,” Steve says between peppered kisses against your face, making you beam. His gentle hands maneuver your limp body until you're flat on your stomach. He rubs up and down your back until his grip lands on your ass, kneading at the flesh there and spreading you apart for him to admire.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Steve praises. Your body jumps when you feel his fingers run through you again, followed by an almost pained groan. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Steve’s fingers in his own mouth, eyes squeezed shut as he savors the way you taste. “Fucking amazing. Forgot how good omega pussy is.” 

You hum at his words, finding the energy to raise your hips to present yourself to him, wiggling them back and forth. “Why don’t you come get some? Straight from the source.” 

Steve’s eyes go wide with shock. “Really? That’s okay?”

“Of course it is,” you say with a chuckle. “Why would it not be?”

Steve wants to bring up how his ex would only let him go down on her when they had the time, which wasn’t often for two full time parents. But, he didn’t want to bring the mood down by bringing up his wife or how he felt like he might have been bad at it since she never wanted it.

“I just, uh, wanted to make sure. That’s all.”

“Okay,” you say, moving your hips playfully, “Less talking and more doing then.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve salutes before diving in tongue first. The taste of you is like divine nectar in his mouth. Something he could see himself getting addicted to if given the opportunity. 

Flattening the thick muscle, he pushes it between your folds and licks a long stripe from your clit to your hole, letting the tip catch on it teasingly. He feels your body shiver under him, sending a confidence boost through his veins that encourages him to keep going.

Another quicker swipe through, but this time he lets his tongue slip into you completely. His thumb makes its way back to your clit, working it in tandem with his tongue in a way that makes you dizzy. Then, they switch places, his lips wrapping around your bud to lick and suck while his fingers curl inside you, his nose right up against your slit.

Steve feels the way you squeeze around him, familiar enough now that he knows your third orgasm is quickly approaching. But the thought of not feeling you cum on his cock has him pulling away from you all together. He laughs when you let out a whine, only for it to turn into a moan when he pushes the head of his cock inside you. He watches the way it pops in, disappearing in your tight cunt as you suck him in.

He wants to take his time with you, but the way you push back against him has him laughing. “Okay, I’m sorry, sweet girl. No more—teasing.” He punctuates the last word with a snap of his hips, thrusting all the way inside of you. His heavy balls audibly slap against your clit. 

Steve manhandles your hips until they’re just where he likes them and begins to pound into you. Not too aggressive, but hard enough that his bed frame hits the wall with every thrust. Your vocalizations echo off the walls in competition, and he’s never been so thankful that his kids were staying with their mom for the weekend, because he doesn’t know what he would do if he had to tell you to stay quiet like he was used to.

“Fuck! Fuck! Steve! Oh my god, fuck me, Steve!”

Steve is sure he can taste blood from how hard he’s biting his bottom lip. His mind feels like it’s turning to mush again, pussy drunk from how right it feels to be inside you. Biology be damned, but he couldn’t deny it.

Slumping forward, Steve’s arms wrap around you and pin you to the mattress below him. His nose presses into the back of your neck, nostrils flaring again as your sweet scent fills them up. Drool spills from his mouth and onto your skin, and every fiber of his being is screaming at him to bite down onto that sensitive spot. He lets a canine drag against it, and he sees the goosebumps forming on your skin. 

“Oh, fuck!” 

Steve feels you cum on his cock, body shaking and eyes rolling back as you cry out. It’s all too much for Steve, bringing him to the edge where he’s about to cum himself. 

He goes to pull out, but struggles as your body pins his arms under you. “Shit, shit!” He panics, only managing to pull out about halfway, unable to stop himself from cumming inside of you. 

Steve knows that he should feel bad, and he probably will once he finally stops cumming. But, at the same time, he’s pretty sure he’s never cum so hard in his life. And before he knows it, he feels the blood rushing into the base of his cock where it begins to swell. He pulls out of you just enough that his knot sits snugly against your hole, practically begging to be inside of you.

“Holy shit, did you knot?” You pant against his bed sheets, turning your body to look back at him.

“Y-yeah,” He pushes himself off of you, sitting back on his knees. He looks at the way his knot is pressed against your entrance, feeling only a slight resistance when he rocks forward a bit.

“I’m surprised you pulled it out,” you say, giving him a look that he isn’t sure how to read. Heat creeps all over his body as the guilt starts to set in.

“I was trying to pull all the way out, I promise. I’m so sorry. We can stop at the drugstore on the way back to your car and—”

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay.” 

He feels the way you push back into his knot, rocking back and forth on his still hard length while his cum subtly starts to leak out of you. 

“Yeah?” He asks again, eyes locked on his knot as you work yourself open on it. You’re so tight, but he can feel the resistance starting to give. Maybe if he just…

“Oh my god!” You squeal out. With one hard thrust, Steve was able to push his knot fully inside of you until it locks in place. Whether it be the natural connection between an alpha and an omega or, if your pussy was just that good, Steve can’t help but cum again, filling your already stuffed pussy up with more of his seed. 

“It’s…it’s..”

“What is it, Stevie baby,” you ask in a sugary sweet voice, mind clearly on cloud nine from the soft look on your face. 

“It’s just, it’s been so long…so long since I’ve felt like…”

“Awe, come’er,” you motion for him to lay with you, and Steve follows your command, taking you in a strong arm and maneuvering you both comfortably onto your sides. Underneath the covers, the two of you hold each other like you’ve been doing this for years rather than being a random Sunday afternoon hookup. The hairs of his mustache tickle the skin on your shoulder where he leaves kisses over and over again.

The two of you are quiet as you lay there in his bed. Steve’s mind races as the post nut clarity kicks in. Guilt plagues his brain first, but not in the way he thought it would. He thought he would feel guilty about sleeping with someone he didn’t vow his life to almost 20 years ago, but that’s not the case. Instead he feels guilty wishing he’d not wasted all those years with someone who couldn’t make him feel like this. All those years of putting her needs first…

“Are those your daughters?”

Steve’s head pops up to look over yours. Following your gaze, he sees the picture in question—well, he can’t see it clearly, his glasses being lost in the shuffle to get here. But, he knows what picture you’re talking about. It’s a picture of him and his two daughters, Hailey and Kristina, at their soccer tournament when they were 9 and 7 respectively. Their team had won 2nd place, but the both of them didn’t care because their dad had shown up to watch them play. It’s one of his favorite pictures of the three of them.

“Yeah, those are my girls,” Steve says with pride.

“They’re cute.” You look back at him with a smile, “They definitely get their looks from you.”

Steve feels the heat on his cheeks and ducks his head. “Thank you. Do, uh, do you have any kids?”

“Nope,” you say with a shake of your head. “Well, not yet at least.”

“Again, I am so, so sorry—” You bark out a laugh at his embarrassment and Steve tries to ignore the way you squeeze him.

“I’m just teasing, Steve.”

“Oh-okay,” he settles, daring to squeeze you a little tighter to him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” you say excitedly, taking his hand in yours and rubbing circles into the back of his hand.

“Well, okay actually it’s, like, a series of questions. But, I guess the first one is…why me?”

“Why you? Like, why did I sleep with you?”

“Yeah…”

“Um, partly because you’re, like, really, really hot.”

Steve laughs at that, “Should’ve seen me when I was your age.”

“I’m sure you were super hot then, too. But you look like one of those guys who gets better with age.”

“Thanks…”

“Anyway, I also slept with you because you’re always really nice when you and your friend come in. I thought maybe you were, but honestly I couldn’t tell if you were flirting with me or not. I also wasn’t sure if you and her were dating and I didn’t want to embarrass myself so I never said anything. But when you pheromone bombed me earlier…I had to take my break because I thought I was going to go into heat.

“Jesus, I’m sorry about that, too,” Steve internally scolds himself for forgetting about that. “Forty two years old and I can’t even contain myself. Acting like I’m a newly presenting alpha again.”

“It’s okay…honestly it was kinda hot. That’s why when I saw you leaving, I thought ‘Fuck it, might as well shoot my shot.’ Glad I did.”

Steve is trying his damnedest to stay collected, he really is. But the more you talk about wanting to pursue him, the more he feels like he needs to get away from you before he falls for you. He knows it’s just the pheromones and the fact that he hasn’t felt wanted since Becca left him, but damn does it feel good to have someone want him.

He feels you snuggle back against him. You look over your shoulder at him with a sly expression. 

“Ready for round two already?” You say with a teasing lit. His eyes go wide.

“What?” He asks with a nervous chuckle.

“I’m just kidding,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him.  “Just felt like you got harder when I was talking about how I wanted you.”

Steve sucks in a breath. “I mean, if I can get this knot to go down enough…” It’s been a long while since Steve’s been able to go for a second round. But, he’s pretty sure he’d do anything you asked him right now.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind this for a little bit longer.”

The two of you ended up fucking for a good majority of the afternoon. At some point Steve fell asleep inside you, leaving you to scroll through his barely touched instagram until his knot went down again. He warned you that pictures of his wife were still on there since he didn’t know how to delete them. But when you told him you didn’t care about his past he ended up fucking you again, which is how you ended up in the position you’re in now.

When Steve rouses from his nap, he’s sad to find you not in bed with him. It felt good having someone to share his bed with again. A king size mattress is too big for only one person to occupy Steve has thought many nights now.

Steve puts on a pair of gray sweats and a tee shirt and searches the house for you. He gets a little nervous when he doesn’t find you anywhere. With a slight panic, he runs back to his room and checks his clothes from earlier. When everything was still in his pockets he grabbed his phone to see if you’d texted him that you were leaving. That was until he remembered that he never asked for your number…

Plopping down on the edge of the bed, he grabs his phone and taps the screen. The picture of Hailey and Kristina opening gifts at Robin’s house over Christmas break comes up, making him smile. But when he looks at the bottom of the screen, he sees the little notification bubble and scrolls up. 

His eyes widen when he sees your name attached to a text message. He opens the message quickly, squinting his eyes to see the screen without his glasses on. 

wanted a smoke so I’m sitting in your car hope that’s okay ♥️

Steve is up instantly, grabbing his coat and house slippers before pushing out the front door. He saw you in his passenger seat, bundled up in your coat with a cigarette still lit between your fingers. You were on the phone with someone, distracted as you looked out the front window. He could hear you speaking with someone through the cracked window.

“Yeah, the older guy. The divorced one…Girl, oh my goooooood…I will when I see you later. He’s so hot though…I don’t know. I kinda hope so. Like I’m sure my parents would be so pissed if I started dating a guy in his 40s…I don’t know. But girl we went at it for hooouuuursss, so I hope so.”

Steve was sure his face was the same shade of red as a tomato. He could hardly believe a girl was sitting in his car talking about how much she liked him to presumably one of her friends. And you were talking about dating?

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

The words come out on their own. Your head snaps to look at him, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. You mutter a quick good bye to your friend and open the car door.

“S-sorry, I was talking to my friend. What did you say?”

Steve debated on back tracking. There’s no way you could be serious about liking him, so why embarrass himself, or even scare you off by taking things further. You were right, you were old enough that your parents wouldn’t approve even if you both wanted it. As a father of two girls, he can’t help but think about how he would feel if one of them brought home someone at least 15 years older than them…

“Steve?” The way you looked at him had him folding in an instant.

“I asked if you wanted to go on a date with me.”

A smile played at the ends of your mouth. “Really?” You ask coyly. “This isn’t just some little fantasy thing for you? Older man hooking up with a younger girl to make himself feel better?” Steve shook his head.

“God, no. Those aren’t my intentions at all.” Steve’s hand reaches out for yours, which you gladly take, swinging them between the two of you. Steve clears his throat before looking you in the eye as he speaks.

“I’m not the type of guy that does…” He gestures vaguely towards his house. “Does the hook up thing. At least I haven’t been in a good while.”

“I knew you were a player when you were younger,” you say with a cheeky smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He laughs.

“I saw a picture that your friend Robin tagged you in on her instagram of the two of you back in the day and…” You gave him a look that made him duck his head. 

“I guess you could say that I was a bit more debaucherous back in my early twenties. But, I think the longevity of my marriage should stand as testament that I am capable of being a loyal, faithful partner to the right person.”

“And you want to see if I could be a candidate for that “right person” position?”

“Mmm, that sounds like you’d need to convince me.” He pulls you into him, looking down at you as you’re pressed against him. “But I’m pretty sure you’ve already got me hooked on you. Just need to prove to you that this old man is worth keeping around.”

The way your smile crinkles your eyes as you look up at him has Steve’s heart fluttering. And when you reach up to kiss him, that fluttering swells into a blooming warmth that runs through his veins the second your lips touch.

“Well, when and where does this “old man,” you echo his words with finger quotes, “want to have this date, hmm?”

The two of you iron out the details over a smoke in Steve’s warm car, and continue to talk well past the setting of the sun. Eventually, Steve takes you back to your car, where the two of you make out parked next to it until you’re pretty sure you hear your closing coworkers coming out the back door from the end of shift.

Steve makes you promise to text him when you get home to make sure you got there safe. You throw a casual “sure thing, dad” at him, and as he watched you get in your car he has to question himself as to why he liked you calling him that…

thank you for reading.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

TW: Sim Spice / Violence

DJ Plays: I Get Around- Tupac Shakur

Transcript under the cut

Nancy Narrates: [When church and prayer stopped providing solace, I felt lost, just as the cards predicted. Thoughts of Vanessa continued to consume me, leaving me hollow and desperate to feel anything at all]

Becca: [whispers] Is this seat taken?

Nancy: [whispers] The bench is kind of full, Becca-

Becca: [whispers] It’s ok! I’ll just squeeze right in!

Geoffrey: [whispers] Oh. Hey Becca.

Becca: [whispers] Hii Geoffrey! Looking very handsome in your sweater!

Geoffrey: [whispers] Aw, thanks! Nancy dresses me. [chuckles]

Becca: [whispers] She obviously has such great taste.

Becca: [squeals] Go Geoffrey!! Woooo hooo!

Becca: Nancy! Nancy, did you see that? Oh, he is so athletic! No wonder, I mean he has the perfect physique for it.

Nancy: [sighs] Trying to study, please.

Geoffrey: [panting] Hey! Are you hungry?

Becca: I could eat!

Geoffrey: Oh! Well...I was kind of asking-

Becca: Oh! So, there’s this diner that I can take you to. I mean, the both of you! I’ve gone there since I was knee high and it’s sooo good! The best key lime pie you could eat and more. We’ll go after your practice, Mr. Hungry Man.

Geoffrey: [chuckles] Ok? Yeah, then it’s a date, I guess. Gotta get back to it. I love you, Nancy.

Becca: [sighs] Can I ask you a question?

Nancy: Sure?

Becca: Are you still a virgin?

Nancy: [hisses] Excuse me?! That’s personal, don’t you think?

Becca: [giggles] I’m not asking to be nosy, sister! I’m asking because I marvel at your strength in resisting temptation. Geoffrey is beautiful but your love for God is strong. I’m still pure too, by the way. I’m sure other girls struggle with those desires. Not us, right, Nancy?

Bob: I’ll leave you love birds to it. This eagle got a hot date with a cutie pie named Eliza. Don’t wait up.

Nancy: [snorts] Go get ‘em tiger!

Geoffrey: Be home at a decent time young man! No funny business!

Bob: Ok, dad! See you guys!

Nancy: So. Becca sure is your biggest fan, isn’t she? Always giving you eyes and pushing her big chest in your face. Is that what you like?

Geoffrey: [laughs] What? Where’s all this coming from?

Nancy: [rolls eyes] She’s always there, waiting for the right moment to jump on you. It’s infuriating.

Geoffrey: [laughs] Aw, come on, Nance. She’s just- being Becca. It’s nothing like that.

Nancy: So, I’m making it all up? Is that it?

Geoffrey: [softly] Hey. I only ever want to look at you, Nancy. You’re all I see.

Nancy: You promise? You’ll never leave me?

Geoffrey: I promise.

Nancy: Do you forgive me?

Geoffrey: [frowns] What-

Nancy: Just say yes, please. Say you forgive me.

Geoffrey: I forgive you.

Nancy: [breathlessly] I need you.

Geoffrey: I thought you wanted to wait? A-are you sure?

Nancy: [shakes head] Your mouth. Use your mouth. Hurry. Please..

Geoffrey: Ok. [swallows nervously] Ok, I’ll take care of you.

DJ Plays: I Get Around- Tupac Shakur

Back to get wrecked, all respect To those who break their neck to keep their hoes in check

‘Cause, oh, they sweat a brother majorly And I don't know why your girl keeps pagin' me

She tell me that she needs me, cries when she leaves me

And every time she sees me, she squeeze me—lady, take it easy!

Hate to sound sleazy, but tease me I don't want it if it's that easy

Eliza: [laughs] How do you survive being around all these dumb boys all day.

Nancy: It’s alot easier than it looks.

Teammate: We’re running low on ice!

Teammate: Make the freshmen get it!

Geoffrey: Ok, ok! I’ll get it!

Becca: Hi Geoffrey.

Geoffrey: Oh, hey Becca! What’s up?

Becca: You had such a great season. I bet you’re really proud.

Geoffrey: I’m just glad I finally found a sport I don’t suck at it.

Becca: Can I help you bring up the ice?

Geoffrey: Ahhh, sure! More the merrier.

Geoffrey: 4 should be enough, right? What do you think?

Becca: I think so too. You know, I was hoping to get some advice, if that’s ok.

Geoffrey: You want my advice?

Becca: I do. One thing this campus lacks are sensitive, beautiful men like you. Only you would understand how I feel.

Siobhan: Enjoying yourself, Nancy? One of the many perks of being a Theta are our legendary parties. Have you thought about pledging?

Nancy: I don’t know. Being around a bunch of women? I wouldn’t enjoy that.

Siobhan: Honey, there’s nothing more empowering than being around women, especially strong women. Look, we are hosting a charity fundraiser this weekend at the art gallery. You should come. We’ve invited all our alumnae as well.

Nancy: [stunned] My mother will be there?

Teammate: [snorts] He‘s probably being preached at by that church girl.

Eliza: Oh, yeah. I saw her follow him out. Bella? Brianna?

Nancy: Becca?

Geoffrey: Whoa! Um, w-what are you doing?

Becca: Do you struggle with resisting temptation?

Geoffrey: Resisting- Huh??

Becca: I ask because, no matter what I do, I still want to look extra pretty just for you. I bought this dress with you in mind. Do you like it?

Becca: Do you like the way it hugs my body?

Geoffrey: Um...you know I’m with Nancy, right? She’s my girlfriend.

Becca: What do you see in her anyway? She’s so cold and detached from you. I never see her smile when she’s with you. She never looks at you the way I do. I noticed the way you smile when you look at me though. I think we’d be so good together.

Geoffrey: Ok, stop! Becca, I don’t feel the same way!

Becca: [frowns] You don’t? But you’re so nice to me. Don’t you like me?

Geoffrey: You’re a really nice girl, Becca. I know you’ll make some guy so happy one day, but I can’t be that guy for you. I love Nancy. She’s complex but that’s what I love about her. I always will.

Geoffrey: Wait- don’t cry! Please don’t cry. Look, let’s forget this ever happened and just grab the ice and- Nancy?

Nancy Narrates: [I don’t know what came over me]

Nancy: Touch him again, I will fucking kill you.

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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[jobean12-blog]

Bake Nights

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,709

Summary: Bucky starts to show some interest in one of your favorite shows and you couldn't be more excited!

Author's Note: So I'm a huge fan of the GBBO and since the finale was this last week I've wanted to write something fun with Bucky. The show really just brings me joy and I've needed it lately and pairing it with Bucky just makes it that much better! No real spoilers here for the latest season- just lots of fun! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of sweet fluff and flirty fun

“Buuuuuckkkyyyy.”

“Yeah doll?”

“Have you seen my tea? Are we out?”

As you continue to search the cabinet you feel his hard chest press against your back. His arm reaches above you and he pushes the box of crackers aside, revealing your tea.

“Oh good!” you cheer. “I’m about to watch this week’s episode of Great British Bake Off and I wanted some tea and snacks.”

“Is that the UK baking show you’re always going on about?”

“Yes,” you say with narrowed eyes as you turn in his arms.

He gives you a lopsided smile before a kiss.

“Want to watch with me?” you ask with a hopeful tone.

“I’m finishing up the paperwork from this last mission and you know all the cooking shows do is make me hangry.”

“You’re always hangry,” you state with a pout.

“So are you,” he fires back.

With one more kiss he says, “when I’m done I’ll come in a sit.”

“Ok,” you huff. “Hurry!”

You make your tea and get situated on the couch with the blanket, snacks and Alpine curled up in your lap.

“You’ll always watch with me right buddy,” you coo as you pet the cat’s soft white fur. “Not like daddy…too busy and too hungry.”

“Heard that doll face,” Bucky chimes from the other room.

“Damn super solider hearing,” you mutter.

You’re fully engrossed in the show, waiting with bated breath as Prue and Paul judge the show stoppers, and when Bucky asks, “did she just say, ‘tell us about your Beaver?,’” you startle with a squeal and nearly drop a now very irritated Alpine.

“OH MY GOD BUCK!” you shout.

“She did, didn’t she?” Bucky deadpans. “What kind of baking show is this?”

You press pause and turn around to stare at him as he leans against the back of the ouch and peers down at you and Alpine.

“The best baking show ever! Now shush…it’s judgement time.”

He lifts his eyebrows and smirks. “Didn’t know it was so serious. I’m gonna grab some food and I’ll be right back.”

You hit play and continue watching, barely noticing when the couch dips and Bucky sits down next to you.

“Did the beaver win?” he asks through a mouthful of food.

“It doesn’t work like that,” you start to explain but clamp your mouth shut as you wait for Noel to announce the name of the baker that’s leaving.

“How does it…?”

“Buck, wait…this is the worst part,” you whisper as you nibble on a finger.

He shuts up and takes another bite of his sandwich.

“Oh noooooooo,” you cry when you hear who’s going home. “I hate when anyone has to leave.”

Once it’s over and you’ve shut the TV you sigh. “Have to wait a whole week for the next one!”

Bucky slides his arm across your shoulders and tucks you against him, silently offering you a bite of his sandwich.

You take it and then ask, “can we get some cake at the diner later? I’m in the mood for a big slice of something.”

He chuckles and takes another bite of the sandwich before offering you the last one.

“Sure doll face. I can always go for cake.”

“Time for baking again?” Bucky asks when he gets out of the bathroom and finds you on the couch snuggled up with Alpine.

“Yes! Want to come watch?” you ask excitedly.

His expression falls. “Aw doll. I’m about to go workout with Sam.”

You pout. Again.

He leans over the side of the couch and kisses it right off your lips. “I’ll try to be quick. Maybe I can catch the end…or you could wait for me?”

You stare at him and blink several times, warring with the need to watch the episode immediately and the desire to watch with him.

The corners of his eyes scrunch up as he smiles. “It’s ok baby doll. You go ahead and watch, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

You nod and pucker up for another kiss which he happily obliges in.

By the time he gets back from his workout you’re watching Paul and Prue judge the showstoppers.

“Are we about to see who wins,” he says as he plops down next to you.

Alpine meows in frustration as the couch bounces and he goes with it.

“They’re still judging the showstoppers and it’s bread week…”

You say the last words ominously and Bucky shifts closer, bringing his lips to the shell of your ear.

“Why do you sound so scared doll?”

“Paul is the King of bread.”

“Paul…? Is that the guy with the bad fake tan?”

“HEY!” you admonish with a giggle. “Yeah…but he knows bread.”

“I know bread!” Bucky says more to himself than you. “I eat bread all the time. I love it.”

“Not like that you buttface,” you retort. “Like he knows how to bake the best bread.”

“Buttface…? Did you just…?” Bucky starts before he returns his focus to the bread.

“I’ll be the judge of that! Where can we get some Paul bread?”

“Paul bread?” you repeat. “Just…shush. Let’s watch.”

“You sure tell me to shush a lot when this show is on,” he grumbles.

“That’s ‘cause you talk too much while it’s on!” you reply.

“That’s it,” Bucky says and grabs you, hauling you into his lap as his fingers find purchase on your waist and dig in.

“BUCKKKKKKKKKKKY! That tickles, stop, OH MY GOD!”

You screech and squeal and kick and fight but it’s no use. He easily holds you in place while he tortures you with tickles.  

Alpine hops off the couch with his tail turned up and gives Bucky a murderous glare.

“Please,” you whine. “Just let me finish my show!”

He finally relents and slides his hands along your curves, snuggling you against his chest while you catch your breath.

“You’re such a pain in my ass,” you sigh as you let out one last deep breath and snuggle closer.

After they announce star baker Bucky adds, “I like the guy with the eye liner. He’s really funny.”

“That’s Noel. He’s the best!”

You stiffen when they get ready to announce who’s going home and Bucky hugs you more tightly.

“I really hate that part,” you say when it’s over.

“Alright, it’s official. Next week we are watching together.”

Your frown instantly turns into a bright smile and you throw your arms around his neck, peppering his face with kisses.

“I’m so excited Buck! And I have to explain everything…so Paul and Prue are the judges…”

Bucky stops you with a press of his finger to your lips. “Can we discuss his over food? Sam kicked my ass today and then the baking and now I’m starving.”

You smile before taking his finger and giving it a nibble. “Of course. Come on, we can get pizza.”

“YESSSS my favorite,” he sings.

“Everything is your favorite,” you deadpan.

He scoffs and then his smile turns devious. “I take it back.”

Your hands land on your hips and pin him with a challenging glare.

He steps closer and takes you in his arms. “Pizza isn’t my favorite thing to eat…”

His lips trail along your neck, stopping just below your ear. “You’re my favorite thing to eat.”

With a hum of satisfaction you crane your neck back and sigh as he places soft kiss to your skin, tracing your jaw before he finds your lips again.

His stomach growls just as he kisses you and you both laugh.

“Pizza first,” you say.

“Then you for dessert,” he promises.

“Man those technical challenges are rough,” Bucky says as he runs his hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“I KNOW!” you agree. “I don’t know how they do it.”

“Show stopper now?” Bucky asks with a boyish smirk.

“Yep!” you say popping the p before giving him a sweet kiss. “And it’s pastry week! YUM!”

Bucky’s fingers sneak under your shirt and trace mindless patterns along your shoulder. You’re snuggled against his chest with your palms flattened on his chest and tummy.

He digs his fingers into your skin and asks, “why does Paul walk around and watch them like that!?! It’s so intimidating!”

“Because he’s a total pain in the butt and knows how scary he is!”

As you continue to watch each baker explains their flavors and design and Bucky’s stomach growls.

“I’m so hungry,” he whines.

“You’re so cute,” you answer. “We just have to get through judging then we can eat!”

“Ok,” he says quietly as he pulls you closer.

“That’s amazing!” he says excitedly as one of the bakers brings up their showstopper. “I hope it tastes good!”

When the bakers are lined up in their chairs waiting to hear who star baker is and who’s leaving the tent, Bucky sucks in a breath, clearly on edge.

“Yes!” he cheers when they announce star baker. “I called that one!”

“You did,” you say as you pat his chest with a smile.

When Noel is about to say who’s leaving the tent Bucky drops his head and mutters, “ugh, you were right, this part really is the worst. I like them all! I don’t want anyone to leave.”

“Just wait until it gets down to the end and there are only a few bakers left…” you warn him.

The show ends and you both give each other a sad look.

“Do we know what the theme for next week is?” he asks.

“Botanicals!”

“Like flowers?” he asks with a confused look.

“Yes,” you smile.

“Wow, can’t wait for that!...heyyyyy why don’t we bake something doll?”

You do a double take. “You want to bake?”

“Yeah! I mean why not? I’m sure we can make somethin’ good.”

“OK! I’m sure we have the ingredients to put something together.”

You hop off the couch and head into the kitchen, opening a drawer to pull out two aprons.

“No way!” Bucky says when he sees what you’re holding up.

“You have to Buck! PLEAAASSSSSSSEEE…all the bakers wear one!”

“Fine,” he relents and takes it from your hand. “But I’m getting second dessert after this.”

He waggles his eyebrows as he looks you up and down.

“What are you a Hobbit?” you tease.

“A horny Hobbit!” he exclaims.

@hiddles-rose @lizette50 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @randomfandompenguin @kmc1989

[mattitties]

Boyfriend, pt 3 - matt sturniolo

smutty smut smut!

part 1 part 2

“How was the date?” my roommate asks as I go into her room.

All I can do is smile. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy in my life. “I love him,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh jesus. Okay, come sit, tell me everything.” 

I sit on her bed and recount the whole night, from him picking me up at the door, to listening to Taylor Swift with me, to me never feeling a moment of awkwardness, and finally, to him kissing me outside the apartment. “Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a boyfriend so any ounce of actual romantic attention is a dream come true but I genuinely think he’s perfect for me,” I tell her.

“He does sound pretty perfect for you…”

“See!”

“But slow ya roll! Take it easy, just don’t rush into anything.” I nod in agreement. I know that there’s still so much to learn about him, but I just feel like I already trust him with my life. It takes me a long time to feel truly comfortable with anyone, but there’s just something about him that makes me feel like I’ve known him forever.

I wake up the next morning later than usual, and to my surprise, I already have a text from him. 

Good morning! I had a lot of fun last night :) 

I’m about to respond when another text comes through.

Would u wanna grab lunch today? I can pick u up again

I smile to myself and start typing.

good morning!! i had fun too, and i would love to get lunch! what time?

I can get you around 2?

sounds good see you then 😁

I look at the time and panic when I see it’s already 12:30. How the fuck did I sleep so late? I get ready and before I know it, it’s 1:55 and he’s texted me that he’s here. I have to applaud his punctuality, it’s hot as fuck knowing that he actually cares enough to be somewhere on time. God, I really need to raise my standards.

I head downstairs and he’s in the same spot by the door, smiling shyly when he sees me. His fashion sense is immaculate: today he’s wearing black cargo jeans, a black T-shirt, and a white long sleeve underneath. I’m disappointed that he’s not showing off his sleeve of tattoos like last night, but I still can’t stop staring at him. 

“Hi,” he smiles, giving me a hug. He smells good, like warm vanilla, and his hug is the most comforting thing in the world at this moment. 

“How’ve you been in the last… 12 hours since I saw you?” I ask as we head to the car.

“Oh you know, just been sitting at home twiddling my thumbs until I could see you again. We’re at a three day streak now!” he tells me as he opens the door for me. 

I laugh and can’t take my eyes off of him as he makes his way to the driver’s side. “Why’d you wear a long sleeve today? I miss your tattoos,” I fake pout and play with his sleeve.

“Ohhh, you can see those whenever you want, don’t you worry.” 

God, he makes me fucking crazy. We start driving, talking about mindless things, and end up at a little diner not too far from my apartment.

“My brothers and I go here all the time, their food is so good,” he tells me as we go inside.

Once we’re seated and have ordered our food, our conversation flows just the same as it did last night, except today we’re talking about stuff that it usually takes me at least a few weeks of knowing someone before I share about. I tell him about my family, he tells me about his and how he’s never been away from his brothers for more than 24 hours, while I tell him that my brothers and I are more like acquaintances and I only ever talk to them about surface level stuff. 

“I couldn’t imagine,” he says. “Nick and Chris are like my safety nets. To be honest, tonight and today are the first time I’ve actually gone out to a restaurant without at least one of them in like… 3 years.”

“Really? I actually don’t mind doing stuff alone. I know people hate going out to eat by themselves, but I think I just grew up so independent that I’m comfortable with it. Like, my favorite thing ever is going to the movies, but if I don’t have anyone to go with I’ll just go by myself. I find it peaceful,” I tell him. 

“I love going to the movies too, but I could never go by myself. That sounds fucking terrifying,” he says, laughing a bit as he talks. 

“I get it,” I say. “Well, would you ever want to go to a movie together? It’s not alone and we both like it, so…”

He smiles. “I would love to. But if you talk in there, I’m out. We’re done. No movie talkers in my presence.”

I shake my head very seriously. “Oh no, absolutely not. Trust me, you won’t hear a peep.”

By the time we finish lunch, it’s only 3:45, and neither of us are ready to go home yet. 

He turns to me when we get in the car. “What do you think about that movie right now? I have nothing else going on the rest of the day.”

We arrive at the theater and just pick a movie at random. Neither of us have any real interest in seeing any of the ones they’re showing, but it gives us something to do together. We’re pleasantly surprised when we walk into an empty theater, so we take our seats and make fun of the trailers until the movie starts. 

About 30 minutes in, I realize that I have no idea what’s happening in the movie. I’ve been glancing at Matt the whole time, trying to pretend like I don’t see him glancing at me too. I can tell that he wants to hold my hand, wrap his arm around me, just touch me in some way, and I want to just scream at him to do something. It’s all I can think about. I shift up a little in my seat and look at him slightly. He looks at me. Without saying a word, we both know what the other wants.

He takes my cheek softly in his hand and kisses me. I immediately fall into it, our lips moving together effortlessly, our tongues colliding. But I want more. I need more. 

“Matt,” I say between kisses. “Can we go back to my place?”

“But the movie isn’t over yet,” he breathes into my mouth.

I pull back slightly and look at him with the same eyes I gave him two nights ago. “Matt. My place. Please?”

His eyes widen. “Oh. Oh.” 

I nod and giggle as he grabs my hand and rushes me out of there and back to his car like his life depends on it. Luckily the movie theater is about 5 minutes away from my apartment, and even more luckily my roommate is at work. The tension in the car ride home and in the elevator is so thick I can hardly breathe. As soon as we open the door to my room, his hands are all over me. We’re kissing messier than before; our teeth are clashing, our tongues fighting one another. He walks us towards my bed, dipping his head so his mouth reaches my neck as he begins to kiss, nip, and suck. 

“Matt,” I whine.

“Hmmm,” he hums in response, sucking a spot right under my ear. I begin to play with the bottom of his shirt, signaling that I want it off. He smirks and unlatches himself from my neck just long enough to pull it off his body before going back to what he was doing.

“God you’re so hot,” I half whisper as my hands run down from his chest to his happy trail. I grab his face in my hands and kiss him hard, then sit down on the bed and look up at him. 

“What do you wanna do?” he teases, knowing exactly what I want. I pull my shirt off, leaving me in a black lace bra, and begin to undo his jeans as he stares down at me. 

“Is this okay?” I ask, pulling his zipper down painfully slow.

“Mhm. Yeah, no it’s, um, it’s good,” he says, clearly flustered by what’s happening. And I can’t get enough.

I pull his jeans down and almost drool over his black briefs. I look up at him again for a moment, then palm over his bulge, earning a low groan from him.

“Fuck,” he mumbles as I tear his briefs down as well, and I need to control my face when I see his dick.

It’s not huge, probably about 6 inches, but it’s genuinely perfect. I never thought I’d say that about a dick, but no, it is perfect. 

He inhales sharply as I wrap my hand around the tip and begin to work him, my thumb running over his slit every so often. I spit directly down on him as my hand moves down his shaft, and he groans again, pulling my hair into a loose ponytail. 

That’s my signal to wrap my lips around him and suck.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” he says, closing his eyes and tilting his head back for a moment before looking back down at me. My mouth takes him deeper and deeper with each suck, and his hips begin to buck toward me. 

He didn’t strike me as someone who would be very vocal during sex, but he’s consistently groaning and letting out soft curses.

After just a minute or two of this, he pulls my head off of him. 

“Lay down before I cum in your mouth,” he tells me as I move myself back towards the head of the bed and sit back on my elbows. He crawls over me, kissing my neck, chest, and stomach. “This is all I’ve been thinking about for the past 2 days. Can I take this off?” he asks, referring to my bra.

I nod. 

“Words, baby.”

“Please take it off,” I whine. He undoes the clasp and tosses it aside, taking a moment to stare before dipping his head back down and starting to suck on my left nipple. 

My breathing picks up as he starts to kiss lower and lower, not breaking eye contact when he removes my skirt and underwear at the same time.

He stares down at my dripping pussy, and although I’m extremely turned on and want nothing more than to fuck him right now, I’m reluctant to open my legs as the reality sets in of what’s happening.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, looking up at me with concern in his eyes.

“I just… haven’t done this in a while. I think I’m nervous,” I tell him quietly.

“I’ve got you, I swear. And if you wanna stop just tell me, okay?”

I nod. I can tell he’s being genuine; he’s not just telling me what I want to hear so he can fuck me. He really cares.

I watch as he opens my legs and hooks them over his shoulders. “You’re drippin for me, huh?” he asks, kissing my inner thighs.

“Mhm. I’ve wanted you so bad,” I barely even have time to finish my sentence before he’s putting his tongue inside my pussy. I gasp and grab his hair, my back arching which only makes him go deeper.

He moans repeatedly as he tongue fucks me, sending vibrations through my core. I’m a moaning mess, my heels are digging into his back, and it only gets worse as he brings his thumb to my clit and starts circling lightly. 

“Matt,” I’m on the verge of tears. “Fuck, don’t stop, please, oh my god— “

My orgasm rips through me with no warning, and I’m cumming on his tongue. He doesn’t give me any time to come down before he’s leaning over me, pushing my legs up so my knees are by my face. 

“Do you have condoms?” he asks, pushing my hair back.

I shake my head. “I’m on birth control. I’m clean, obviously.”

“So am I,” he says, running his leaking tip over my clit. 

I almost scream, I’m so sensitive. He looks so fucking good leaning over me. I grip his arm as he pushes into me. There’s a moment of pain as he fills me up, but it quickly turns to pleasure when he starts thrusting into me.

“Is this okay?” he asks, noticing my face and the tight grip I have on his arm.

“Yeah, just hurt for a second, but please keep going,” I breathe, pulling his head down for another kiss.

His thrusts get harder and faster with each passing minute. He fills me so perfectly, I never want this to end. I feel the coil tighten in my stomach yet again, and my moans get louder and needier.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” he taunts.

Baby. I clench around him and nod. “Uh huh.”

“Ohhh, good girl, keep squeezing my cock like that,” he groans. His thrusts are getting erratic, and his dick begins to twitch inside of me.

I chant his name like it’s the only word I know how to say as another orgasm hits me, and I’m squeezing him hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ohhhhh fuck,” he groans as his own orgasm hits him, and I feel him release inside of me, his head collapsing into my neck.

We stay just like that for a few moments, him inside of me, us both half dead and breathing heavy, before he pulls out, picks me up bridal style, and sets me on the toilet.

“It’s peepee time!” he says excitedly while clapping his hands softly, causing me to crack up.

“You just fucked me and came inside of me and now you’re saying ‘it’s peepee time’? You’re such a freak,” I tell him.

After I finish, we take a quick shower to clean up, and I get unreasonably sad as he starts to get dressed.

I walk him to my front door and he kisses me again. “Let me know your work schedule this week. We’re going out again.”

“Okay, I will,” I smile and nod as I watch him leave.

I’m definitely falling for this guy. 

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

this was ridiculously long. i did not intend for that to happen. i really have no intentions of making this a full length series because i have other stories i wanna do and i have a few requests sitting in my inbox, so as the author i am telling you that they lived happily ever after yayyyyy

[gojossocks]

Gossips and Convenience Stores

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Summary: just some jjk first years gossiping lmao. Implied that Geto didn’t turn batshit crazy and killed a lot of people.

a/n: this is probably an epilogue to a series I’ve been wanting to write for a while. lmk if you guys liked it ! <33

“I wonder when Gojo-sensei will ask Y/N-sensei out.” Nobara asks, before taking a bite of her onigiri.

Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi were all sitting together in an empty parking lot outside a convenience store, something that has become a routine after a tiring mission.

It’s midnight. Most of the diners are closed and the only store open was the 7/11, just a few blocks away from Jujutsu High.

“It’s kinda annoying,” She continued. “Every time I see that damned teacher around her, he gets more annoying. That’s a given since he’s more annoying than when he’s with Geto-sensei. If that’s his way of flirting then I don’t think he could ever pull her.”

Megumi snorts at Nobara’s keen observation. “I’m surprised you noticed that.”

She rolls her eyes before glaring at Megumi, “How could I not? Even our principal notices it. Hell, even Yuuji knows it. Right?!” She turned to look at Yuuji, who shrugged mindlessly while eating his noodles.

“I don’t know, he does talk about her all the time. Whenever I ask what’s their history or whatever, he says they were long time friends.”

Megumi snorted at the statement, earning a look from his classmates.

“What’s that look you got, Fushiguro?” Nobara accuses him. He replies with a hum.

Nobara sighs before clicking her tongue. “Anyway, I know you know a lot about those two because Maki-san told me you basically grew up with having them around. Besides, he always asks you to bring pizza for Y/N-sensei. I think it was an unrequited thing, don’t you think? I mean she’s way out of his league if you ask me.” She says confidently.

Megumi knew that this was bound to happen but he never thought that he would have to explain the situation this early. He really hates it when people gossip about his life— and that extends to Y/N. He met Satoru and Y/N when he was 6 years old. Most of his childhood, he and Tsumiki stayed with the Gojos.

“They used to be together.” Megumi mumbles, looking down at his shoes. He then looks up at his friends when the both of them yell ‘HUH?!’ in unison. He couldn’t blame them though. Satoru and Y/N’s acting skills as if they were never together in the first place really fooled a lot of people, especially the people who don’t know anything about them.

“Yeah,” He says, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. Megumi takes a sip from his pepsi, in hopes to escape Nobara and Yuji’s interested gaze. “They’re marrie— could you both shut up for a bit?” He grumbles in annoyance.

Nobara scooches closer to Megumi. “Oh my god, tell me everything.”

He rolled his eyes but continued anyway. “They were in an arranged marriage as far as I know. They were together for 8 years. I think they’ve known each other for much longer, though.”

“Oh he definitely fumbled the bag.”

Yuji stares at him with his mouth agape. His eyes suddenly widened as he dramatically gasped, “Is that why you accidentally called Y/N sensei ‘mom’ ?!”

Megumi feels blood rising from his cheeks. He quickly looks down at his shoes once more to prevent Nobara and Yuji from seeing him embarrassed. Both of them started giggling.

“So that means you call Gojo-sensei ‘daddy’ huh?” Nobara smirked at the onyx haired boy. Megumi chokes on his drink before muttering a ‘shut up, I don’t.’

“So why did they break up?” Yuuji asks.

“I’m not really sure. They try to keep us out of their problems. Y/N just packed up one day and that was it. We kept in touch but she made me promise not to tell Gojo anything. Anyway, that’s it, stop questioning me.”

Nobara points a finger accusingly at the empty parking lot, “I bet he has commitment issues. Yeah, just by looking at him, he’s definitely the type to have one.”

“They have been together, for 8 years.” Megumi deadpans.

“Damn, adults are complicated.” Yuuji whines. “They’d look great together though.”

“He still fumbled! I bet my new perfume on that. To be honest, I don’t really see Y/N sensei with him. He seems chaotic enough as he is.”

“That’s a little harsh.”

“Well, she tolerates us,” Yuji adds, “Besides I don’t think Gojo-sensei will ask her out. Earlier, I saw Y/N-sensei on a date. I just forgot to tell you guys.”

Even Megumi doesn’t know that.

“What?!” Nobara exclaims, standing up. “C’mon, it’s 2 am. I need to get my beauty rest. I’ll get the Y/N and Gojo lore this week. I can’t wait to interview Geto-sensei!”

“That’s invading their privacy.” Megumi sighs.

Nobara and Yuuji kept asking Megumi questions, theorizing and pestering each other. The three of them talked (read: argue) on the way home, too engrossed in the mystery of Gojo and Y/N’s relationship.

Meanwhile they fail to notice their teacher casually leaning on the wall beside the convenience store, chuckling at his students’ curiosity.

Gojo shakes his head before heading off to god knows where.

gojo u naughty boi why are u out at 2 am wanna read more?

[a-tiny-thing]

break in // pt.4

burglar!mark x rich!reader

pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4

a/n: long time no updates hehehe but here it is!

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

mark decided not to break his promise and show up to their assigned meeting place for the sake of his wallet.

he saw y/n there already, standing on front of the vandalized wall with a big penis drawn on it behind the building, she's near the dumpsters and the garbages are scattered everywhere, getting swarmed by flies and rats.

he can clearly see y/n scrunching her nose out of disgust, keeping her hands to herself and covering her nose too often.

mark felt bad about her and kind of regrets his choice of location, but all of that disappears when y/n heard his voice.

"hey" mark said to draw y/n's attention to him.

"mark!" y/n said happily before running to him.

mark did not expect her to hug him again, but oh well...

y/n released him and looks up at his face.

"i knew you'd show up..." she said to him, her eyes sparkling at his face.

"well obviously, 'cause you have my wallet" mark deadpanned, and y/n giggled like a damn schoolgirl whenever she sees her crush.

"so...where's our first date going to happen, mark?" she asked sweetly, while twisting her body right and left lightly with her hands intertwined on front.

"follow me" mark said before turning away from her and started walking to another direction.

y/n obliged and follow him, wondering where he'll take her.

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

mark lead y/n to a house that y/n thought it was his, he leads her down to the basement to reveal a haechan sitting on his beat-down couch, munching on a pizza while playing video games on his almost broken tv.

it was actually haechan's basement, but she still doesn't know that.

y/n's smile faded when she looks around the setting. everything is all messy.

"yo mark, do you wanna beat the final boss with me?" haechan said before turning around to look at him, but he immediately stood up from the couch when he saw a girl.

a girl in his basement. no freaking way. nice going, mark. you broke our bro-code.

"uhh hey, what are you two doing in here?" haechan asks cooly, glancing at you before shooting daggers at mark's face with his eyes, asking why is there a girl in his basement.

"uhh excuse us for a minute" mark said to y/n before grabbing haechan's arm and dragged him to the other side of the room.

"yo, who the fuck is that girl, didn't i tell you that n-"

"dude, that's the girl i was talking about before. the girl that ran up to me and hugged me, remember?" mark said.

"girl that you were talking about be- oh shit, wait" haechan's eyes widen, literally stops talking for a moment when he realized that you're the girl that mark kissed.

"dude, oh my god" haechan gushes quietly. he couldn't believe he brought her here.

"yeah yeah now shut up, she could hear you" mark slapped his arm to silence him, glancing at you to see if you heard them.

"what is she doing here tho?" haechan calmed his excitement, before he continues speaking.

"yeah well, my wallet's gone missing, i went back to their house to see if she stole it and turns out, she did. and now she forced me to take her out on a date so i could get my wallet back" mark explained to him.

"okay but, why here tho? you could've taken her to a nicer place like a diner, café or something" haechan asked.

"i'm trying to make her fucking hate me dude, so she could leave me alone" mark whispered-shouted at him.

"well clearly, you're not doing a great job at it 'cause she's still happy as hell" mark and haechan turned around to look at y/n, who's smiling prettily while looking around the messy area.

but deep inside, she's utterly uncomfortable right now, she just doesn't want to show she's weak.

"i just want my fucking wallet back" mark sighed before going back to y/n.

"hey, you could just sit down there on the sofa and eat some pizza if you want" mark said as he pointed at the ugly beat-down couch from behind and lead y/n to it.

"oh okay, thank you" y/n said before she sits down on the ugly couch. she felt herself dip down a little on her seat.

mark took a seat beside y/n on the couch, while haechan decided to sit down on the floor instead and continue playing.

"hey dude, are you still up to defeating that final boss?" mark suddenly asked haechan.

"yeah, why?" haechan smirked at him.

"can i join you?"

"yeah sure, just get the controller over there" mark got up from his seat to get a controller.

Minutes later, they're already playing together. screaming and talking each other's ears off while you go die from boredom.

you're currently getting ignored by them, your half-closed eyes blankly stares at the loud and crazy effects from the video game they're playing on the tv.

"WOOOOO!"

you jumped up from your seat due to the loud noise, the two boys seem to be dapping each other up and complimenting themselves.

"dude, i obviously killed that, i'm the top master of this game"

"nuh uh, i absolutely carried you through"

the two boys continued to talk, while you on the other hand, are getting sick of being ignored longer.

"can i play with you guys?" y/n suddenly asked, making the heads of those two turn to you.

"uhm, we only have two controllers here, so-"

"i'll let you borrow my controller" haechan cuts him off as he gives the controller to you.

"dude what, she doesn't even know how to pla-"

"she can learn, there's like a tutorial on how to play the game" haechan cuts him off again.

"and if she's finally a pro with it, maybe you two can go on a pvp" haechan smirked at him.

"what, no--"

"omg, yes!" you agreed, holding a big smile on your face while looking at mark.

"ugh, fine, whatever, we're gonna have one game only, and after that, it's over. this date is over and you give me my wallet back, okay?" mark stated.

"okay...but if i win, this game is over and we finally go out to the city for our real date..." y/n smirked at him.

"deal"

"deal it is" y/n says confidently.

meanwhile, haechan watched the whole scene unfold on front of him. excited to see who's going to win.

Couple of minutes later, you felt like you know already all the basic controls in this game. it's now time for you to shine and fight mark lee.

"i think i'm ready now..." y/n said, before haechan sets up the game.

mark stayed quiet, trying to focus on the screen and quietly trains his fingers on the controller to prepare himself.

1...

2...

3...

FIGHT!

y/n started quick and pressed random buttons on the controller, already forgetting what she learned. but somehow, it's making mark lose.

mark was obviously distracted by the way she's playing.

"wait what, you're not even playing it rig--woah wait!" mark said before turning his head to the screen to see his own character losing.

haechan was amazed on how mark's healthbar became so low that quickly.

just a few more pressing then...

K!O!

"yay! i won" y/n exclaimed, throwing her arms out in the air due to happiness.

"dude, she wasn't even playing it correctly, she was just smashing random buttons" mark complained.

"but game is game though" haechan says before congratulating you for your win, giving you an applause.

"i deserve a rematch"

"but didn't you say it's one game only?" haechan rebutted, and smirks at him.

mark's head dropped down out of defeat, his own feet coming into his view.

"what's wrong, mark?" y/n asked due to his sudden action.

"just take me out of here" mark mumbled.

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

and so it happened, you dragged mark to wherever you wanna go, ate ice creams and rented some bicycles.

you totally enjoyed the date, but you're not sure about mark.

after the date, mark accompanied you back to the front of your house.

"can i have my wallet now?" mark immediately asked.

"okay" you said before putting her hand inside her pockets to pull out his wallet and reach it out to him.

mark was about to take it when suddenly, you pulled it back.

"oh my fucking go-" mark sighed frustratingly.

"before you take this wallet, i just want to ask something..."

"what?" mark asked.

"how's your family doing?" y/n smiled and looked at his eyes.

"did you just go through my wallet?" mark ignored your question.

"yes, now answer mine" y/n said.

"you're crazy" mark told her with his eyes opened with shock.

"you break in other peoples' properties so we're just the same, now answer the damn question!" y/n rebutted.

"okay, i don't know! now can you please give me my wallet back?" mark shrugged before extending his hand out.

"you don't know? why do you not know?" y/n's grip on the wallet loosened as her smile fades due to his unexpected answer.

she thought that she's going to get some details about them and his life.

"i don't go home to them anymore, okay?" mark said before grabbing his wallet from her.

"thank you, stay safe..." mark walks away, not looking back at y/n, while she stays silent and watches him leave.

when she couldn't see mark anymore, y/n also decided to go back inside her house.

little did she know, mark succeeded in escaping from her vision and hid behind a large bush near your house.

he stayed until you finally stepped foot inside your house, he then leaves when he knows you're now safe.

he had a feeling this "thing" wouldn't be staying for a short time.

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - 4

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Hi, time for more, arguably making things better, but also arguably making things much worse.

----

There was a diner a block and a half from their apartment. Steve found it when the sky opened up during his jog one morning. Snow, he could have handled, he was dressed for it. Slushy sleet mixed with hail was another matter. He ducked inside to hide until it passed, chatted with the owner for a bit, and brought Robin with him the next day because they had an amazing spread of waffle toppings, including crumbled bacon, and Steve knew she’d go crazy about it.

He was correct, and it was their go to spot, not just for breakfast. 

At the end of January, Rebecca sat down to join them, and handed Steve an application. 

Steve was already working at a JC Penny in the stock room, and picked up a few hours at a roller rink filling in when someone called out. They had enough money to live. Not decadently, but they could cover all their bills, and keep gas in the car, and buy supplies for Robin’s classes.  

“Uh, Rebecca, I’m- thank you? But. My memory sucks, and my hearing isn’t great, and if someone starts getting rude, I’m going to get rude back to them, and --”

“This is a diner, hun,” she stopped him, “You write the orders down, you can always tell someone to say it again, and the fact you can shut down anyone that gives you lip is why I think you’ll be good at it. Like I said, it’s a diner. We don’t have to be all sunshine and daisies here.”

“I’m working at another--”

“Over at the mall and the rink, I know. And I know you’re free Monday through Wednesday mornings. And,” she stressed, “staff gets free meals and first dibs on the day olds.”

“Dingus!" Robin gasped and grabbed his arm. "Do it, do it. Stevie. Please, oh my god, please, you have to take it. You can bring me the brioche buns. And that apple butter. And that thing with the nuts! Steeevveee, don’t you love your soulmate? Please? I cou--”

So Steve took the job, and worked a few mornings a week. By the third week of February, he stopped feeling like he was going to fuck up any second. He understood why Rebecca liked his ability to get bitchy in the face of difficult customers, and he and Robin had cupboards well stocked with random take homes. 

He liked it. Starting at five in the morning took some getting used to, but he was done by one, and traded off with a middle aged mom named Susan after the lunch rush settled down. Was it a ton of money? No. But he got more tips than he expected to, and the brioche really was delicious. 

The last week of February, he was working alone on a Tuesday, at the start of the lunch rush, expecting Susan to arrive soon, and an easy day. 

“Be with you in a minute,” he called to whoever just came inside, bussing half a dozen empty plates from table two after dropping off more creamer at table four. He looped back, ducking behind the counter to put the plates on the pass through for Nick to grab. 

He dropped the entire stack before he got there.

His hands clenched down, his muscles locked, and even though it should have made him hold harder, everything slipped, and either shattered on the tiles or banged into his feet.

Jim Hopper winced from his seat at the counter. “Sorry, kid.”

The couple of other diners glanced up to check on him, and John looked around the window from the kitchen. Steve didn’t move. Couldn't. Could barely breathe.

“Is it back?”

“No.”

His exhale shook out of him before he shoved down the panic.

“Then whatever this is can wait.” 

“I’m just here to talk.”

“And I said it can wait.”

He swept up the broken dishes, shrugged off John’s silent offer to throw Hopper out, and reminded himself there was no reason to think that the Upside Down was back. That meant this was going to be more awkward and less dangerous, and he was going to hate it, but it was still the better version of the day. 

“What’ll you have?” 

“Kid, I’m here to talk cause I didn’t think you’d want me at your place.”

“And I’m at work, and this is a diner, so what’ll you have?”

“Steve--”

“I’ll bring you coffee. I’m not talking about this while I’m working.”

“Coffee’s good. When are you off?”

Steve gave his bitchiest smile, didn’t answer, and went to seat the couple that just walked in. 

The lunch rush was a mercy. Susan handled Hopper, and gave him the iciest service anyone had ever gotten under that roof. Hopper took it gracefully, but he didn’t shift, or push, or give any indication that he wasn’t willing to sit there til midnight if he had to. 

Normally, Steve would get some lunch to go and head home. If the weather was bad, he ate at the booth in the corner to wait it out. With the way his stomach was twisting, unable to separate Hopper from what his arrival could mean, he wasn’t going to keep food down. He filled a glass of water, then silently gestured Hop to follow. 

“Good to see you, Steve,” he said when they sat. “You and Robin doing okay up here?”

“We’re fine. Why are you here? If it isn’t something to do with, you know, then why are you here?”

“Maybe I just came up to check on you.”

“Did you?” Steve snorted into his drink when that question made Hopper’s face twist up. “So what is this?”

“I am here to check on you. There’s something else, but I came here because I’m checking on you. Me and you weren’t all that close, but you had Mrs Buckley give me your info so I’d know where you were.”

“Yeah, in case of an emergency. And you said there wasn’t any emergency. Plus, you had my phone number, so you could have called, which would be way less weird than showing up while I’m at work, you know?”

Hopper scratched at his cheek. “It’s not an emergency compared to all the reasons you wanted me to be able to find you, but if you ask those kids, this may as well be the end of the world again.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, well. Henderson is gonna get himself arrested if he keeps trying to steal the mail and find something addressed to you. Max keeps pushing El to try and find you. The only reason they haven’t gone completely crazy is because of the Buckleys telling them that you’re fine. She gave me your address and number, and she talked for a little bit about the kids.” 

Steve smiled at that. Mrs Buckley had never talked a ‘little bit’ about anything in her life. Either she was holding the line on being rude to anyone that might bother them, or Hop was pretending he hadn’t listened to a solid hour of rambling.  

“Still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Want to ask if I can -- shit, I don’t know. I can route mail back and forth so they never have your address or something. I’d rather give them your info so I don’t have to be involved, but I already know you won’t agree to that.”

Steve ignored the pause that Hopper left there. Conversation and good manners said he should concede to something so he wouldn’t inconvenience the man too much. The last month with Robin supporting his choice kept his mouth shut. She’d be pissed at him if he folded, and worse, she’d help him get through all the pain it caused if he did talk to the kids again. Then he’d feel guilty and sad. 

“Alright,” Hopper grumbled, “Didn’t think you would, but you know how those kids can be. Can’t fault me for trying.”

“So, we’re done? You sat here all this time just to talk for three minutes?”

“Almost.” 

“So….” At least Steve could enjoy the fact that neither of them were enjoying this.  Hopper winced a bit before he spoke. 

“I didn’t tell any of the kids I was coming up to see you. None of them knew, and none of them are gonna know. Didn’t even tell Joyce why, just that I was driving up to Indy. Already had a plan in case they tried to tail me up here. So, had a surprise this morning when I got to my truck. it might change your answer.”

“Didn’t know you were so dramatic about stuff.”

“Side effect of two hours with that surprise, I guess. Eddie Munson came up with me.”

Any of the kids would have hurt. 

Henderson might have made him cry. 

Eddie Munson? That didn’t make sense. 

They weren’t friends, never had been. The Upside Down meant they were connected, but they were never more than acquaintances, even when Steve was desperately trying to keep them all close. Sure, he’d taken over as the chauffeur for the kids, and everyone’s new best friend, but that didn’t explain why he’d bother to come up to talk to Steve. 

“What the hell? Why?”

“He asked.”

“And you said yes.”

“He said please.”

That was not the whole story. There was something getting skipped over, left out. Hopper tolerated Munson, but he wouldn’t do him a favor if there wasn’t some kind of monster involved. 

“Wait, you’ve been here for two hours.”

“Yep.”

“Did you just leave him in your truck this whole time? That front came through overnight. The high is thirty four today.”

“Yeah, I did,” Hopper said flatly. “He told me he wanted to come up so he could talk to you. Told me a little bit about why. And I said yes and I let him come, but I told him that I was gonna talk to you first. If you said no, he was gonna stay in that seat clear back to Hawkins, and keep his mouth shut about this whole thing.”

“How’d he know what you were doing?”

“No clue.”

“What does he want to talk about?”

“Not gonna say it for him.” Hopper shifted towards the edge of the booth. “So, want me to tell him to buckle back up, or tell him to get his ass in here?”

A quick consult with the imaginary Robin in his head left him just as confused, but curious as hell. He agreed, and fidgeted with a napkin, struggling to think of any reason why Eddie Munson would want to talk to him, or what the hell he said that the kids hadn’t that convinced Hopper to drive him up. 

Stuck in his head, Steve jumped when a mess of a man in denim and leather slid shivering into the seat opposite. The scars on his face and hands were less vivid than they were last time they saw each other, but they still worked as a thermometer. Steve's did the same.

“Why the hell were you sitting in the cold, man?”

Eddie blinked, and froze where he was rubbing his hands together trying to get feeling back. “Hopper took the keys.”

Steve’s turn to blink. This was the guy taking care of his kids. 

“Susan?” He called, gesturing for two when she lifted the coffee carafe in a question.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Dude, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here or why you care or what the hell is happening, but I’m not gonna let you sit there shaking cause you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know what gloves are.”

Steve watched packet after packet of sugar pour into Eddie’s, while he stirred a splash of half and half into his own cup. Eddie took a gulp, hissed at the heat, and clutched at the mug, eyes glued to the nicked surface of the table. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For rotting your teeth out? That’s your choice, Munson.”

“No,” Eddie insisted, voice hoarse, “I’m sorry about the kids.”

Steve took a breath, took a sip, took another breath. “Look, man, that’s not on you. You play D&D with them, and you like all their nerdy shit. I was -- They grew up. We got through everything, all of that, we won, and they grew up. It’s not your fault that they like you more than they liked me. So, thanks, I guess, but--”

“Steve. No. They didn’t. They -- those kids did not suddenly grow up and decide they didn’t like you anymore. You are their favorite person anywhere, ever, you will be for the rest of eternity, and they don’t understand why no one will tell them how to reach you. They put on a really good show about being mad about it, but, come on, you know what they’re like. They want to apologize cause they know they hurt you, and they want to fix it, and just, you gotta let them try, Steve. You gotta let them talk to you. They miss you so fucking much.”

“Look, I know how they get, and I know how dramatic they are, but it’s still not your fault--”

“It is. Steve. It is my fault. That’s - That’s why you have to talk to them. Cause they didn’t grow up and get over you or decide they didn’t care about you. Those kids are crazy about you, and they never stopped, and they’re hurt right now cause they don’t understand why you left them, and you gotta fix it with them, please.”

Something pinged weird in his ear when he heard the way Munson’s voice cracked. Not just worry, not just helping, not just caring about the kids. Guilt. He was taking the blame for it, even though that didn’t make any sense. The kids were - brats, gremlins, terrors, the most stubborn people he’d ever met, and he knew Nancy Wheeler. If they wanted to be around him, they would be around him. 

It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, or anyone’s fault. It hurt like hell, and Steve wished it wasn’t true, but this was just life. Kids grew up, their interests moved. Friendships changed and ended. 

But that crack of guilt…

“How is it your fault and not theirs that they stopped wanting to ever see me?”

Eddie’s hands stopped shaking from the cold before he got the coffee. 

His hands were shaking again.

Trembled in the time between Steve asking, and Eddie managing to respond.  

“I, uh, I asked them to.”

----

Don't be too mad at him yet. He has a lot more to say.

Part Five >>>