#i hope u all r hanging in there as well

[intertexts]

you spin yarn? :O whats that like ive been really wanting to try it!! also pomegranate molasses sounds delicious

yeah!!!!! i'm super new to it but it's SO fun!! it's a really neat like, hands-on hobby-- pretty much everything like knitting or sewing or embroidery or what have you has like, a big you-should-really-pay-attention-to-this component, right? you need to keep your eye on yr pattern or yr stitches or smth. spinning (at least, what i've been doing-- just plain single ply + using my ma's ashford double drive spinning wheel) is like... once you get the hang of it it's almost subconscious. there's barely any thinking component to it, other than like, adjusting the tension occasionally, making sure yr spinning evenly, etc. it almost kind of reminds me of driving on a highway? you have to keep focused or you'll fuck up, but after a while it's really just. mostly muscle memory. also it's SO fucking satisfying it's just so fun oh my god. really rewarding to see you have a whole spindle of yarn you made. also it's like, quicker & therefore more instant gratification than knitting or something!! theres also probably just an adhdautism aspect of "this is just a simple repetitive rhythmic motion you keep going" that's... very alluring sdkfdgkf.

[cherrybr4t]

what she wants, she gets - seungcheol (+18, mdni)

WARNINGS: kind of a toxic rs, smut, tit playing, tit slapping, unprotected sex, choking, daddy!cheol, oral (f rec), reader may not be the most sensible, dom!cheol, sub!reader (f), they r so insane for each other! ceo!cheol

<3 not comfy don’t read! but…HAPPY 400! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! hope u guys enjoy this! muah 💋

extract i

“swear to god baby, open the god damn door, please!” seungcheol feels his hands burn, from the incessant knocking and pounding of your door.

you hear every grunt and curse clearly—standing right behind the door, clad in your pink robe, glass of wine balancing dangerously between your fingertips.

“i know you’re standing right behind the door, let me in,” seungcheol runs his hand across his locks, frustration lacing every word. “you’re gonna regret this baby.”

“oh, that’s rich coming from you cheol, i’m the one that’s pissed at you right now—surely i won’t be regretting anything.” you finally decide to bite back.

“you being pissed at me doesn’t warrant you to fucking block your own fucking boyfriend, and what the fuck were you doing on mingyu’s story?” another bang across your poor door.

thank god seungcheol had arranged for only top quality products to be furnished throughout this apartment he’d gifted you a year ago.

“yeah well—you can go and cry about it to your other bitches, i’m sure someone would love to listen to you and offer you some comfort” you faked cooed—you were not going to let this one slide.

“baby—what the fuck are you talking about? you know i don’t even bat an eye at anyone else…everyone fuckin’ knows how i’m fucking obsessed with you, i— you know it too baby!” you hear how his voice starts to strain, and you know he’s right.

ever since you both were linked, it was like an otherworldly connection that only you and him could comprehend.

soulmates—if you must. equally bat shit crazy; crazy for each other at least. well, as what they always say, negative cancels out negative right? together, you and cheol swear nothing else could feel more right.

you came to him on a hazy friday night, and he finally had a face to the name he’s been hearing thrown around the office floors. he’d been captivated by you the minute he laid his eyes on you—in your velvet black dress, donned in silver jewelry that brought out the sparkle in your eyes.

—and, what seungcheol wants, seungcheol gets. by the end of the night, he finds himself removing your jewelry, having you writhe under him, screaming and moaning the whole night, and he’s not sure if you’ve fallen for his trap, or he yours.

it must’ve been love at first sight, he always tells you.

he’s everything you ever wanted, the possessive, ever so passionate man that never takes no for an answer. he made you feel alive, made you feel like you were worth trashing the world for.

some call it insanity, but you weren’t any better. which leads to why you were in your current predicament—you were livid.

it’s not like cheol wasn’t allowed to be around the female species, just not the pretty ones. and especially not if they wear extra short skirts and extra red lips around your boyfriend.

yeah yeah…it’s not like he could avoid female employees, especially being a young and an extremely attractive director, next in line for the CEO position.

the new influx of female employees with the new batch of hires were something else, flocking towards your boyfriend blatantly every chance they get.

he may have just been doing his job to facilitate but—did he have to cross the line with his overtly friendly nature? not necessary, you think.

and you loved to play the game. blocking him all over your social media—only for him to lose his mind when he sees you dancing on mingyu’s instagram story at the club downtown.

you know how much he hates when you hang out with your guy friends, especially ones with a certain playful nature—mingyu.

to say he went berserk would be an understatement. you grin behind the door, the taste of satisfaction at the tip of your tongue, knowing you got him back.

“baby, fuck, i’ll get rid of all of ‘em—whoever it is—fuck, they’re gone by next week” and who are you if not someone that falters at such sweet words from your beau’s mouth.

that click of a door makes him sigh out a breath of relief before he immediately engulfs you in a tight embrace, stroking your hair and kissing the crown of your head.

“you’ll really fire them for me babe?” your eyes soften as they look up into his, and he swoons at how pretty your eyes are, admiring your current docile state—when you’re not being batshit crazy.

he carefully removes the wine glass from you, placing on top of your black coffee table which he chose, before grabbing your cheek and pulling you in for a sloppy passionate kiss.

“anything for my baby, you are the future wife of the company’s soon-to-be CEO after all.” he smirks, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“and what she wants, she gets,” he whispers before pulling your lips towards his before you could say anything else.

his tongue explores every crevice of your mouth, tugging your own tongue playfully and soothing out every bite he gives your lower lip.

“my baby—you look fuckin’ gorgeous. i can never let you stay angry at me, hmm?” he pecks your forehead.

“gonna remind you why you’re mine and i’m yours baby,” he peppers feather kisses down your jaw tenderly.

“yeah? think i need to put my little brat in place, remind her why daddy only loves her, and how daddy only has eyes for her,” he kisses down your clavicle and sucks on a hollow spot which makes your knees buckle.

“mmffh—cheol….” you know it, you’re excited for it. you love it when he reminds you how obsessed he is with you.

“wonder what’s waiting for me underneath this pretty pink robe,” he gently tugs at the string of your little bow tied at the front.

a second later and your ribbon unravels, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall to the sides, and cheol lets out the most animalistic groan when he sees you completely bare and supple for him.

“so fucking pretty yeah?” he pushes you up against the nearest flat surface he can find, hands moving in urgency, grabbing any flesh of yours he can fit in those big hands of his.

you whine out as you feel his calloused hands squeezing your tits so hard, while his mouth gets busy along your jaw again. but those lips can’t stay away from your tits—he starts sucking and slurping all over—marking your mounds as you pull tightly on his locks, sinful moans after moans falling from your lips.

he breaks apart from your tits and you pout.

“my pretty girl, hands up for me.” he grabs your wrists and places them above your head and you keep them there.

“so good for me,” he sinks down and kisses all around your glistening cunt, making you squirm unconsciously. he holds on to your hips, before diving in fully, inserting that warm pink muscle deep inside your cunt you knock your head back against the wall, letting out the breathiest moan.

“pretty girl is all mine. my cunt, my tits, my girl, the prettiest.” he breathes out before he swings a leg over his shoulder and continues devouring your leaking cunt. his tongue curls up and like a deranged animal it plays with your g-spot frantically. he moans around your cunt so deeply, before he moves up and sucks your warm and swollen clit, teeth grazing every few seconds.

“cheol—too fast too fast—i’m gonna cum soon daddy,” you feel yourself reach your breaking point sooner tonight.

“that’s all i want baby, cum all over my face for me. i’m all yours to cum on,” he switches between the insane speed of his tongue and hard suction of his lips and the ribbon inside you unravels before you know it.

you let out the loudest string of moans, shaking as you clench and let out all your juices all over his face and his tongue.

cheol closes his eyes and soaks in the heavenly moment he wants to last forever. he takes in everything—your scent, your taste and continues lapping on your cunt to suck you dry.

you whine before grabbing his locks, pushing away due to oversensitivity. he looks up at you with glistening lips, and your stomach churns at the sight, feeling a new pool of arousal forming again.

he stands up, eye to eye with you, stroking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you’re so fucking perfect baby, no one should dare to even stand next to you.”

he leans forward, rubbing his clothed bulge against your soaked cunt. “you feel that baby? only you can do that to me, i just need a thought of you and i go fucking insane,” he grabs your hand, guiding it to his huge bulge.

you rub teasingly above the fabric before smirking at him knowingly, “you like me that much?”

“baby, i love you so fucking much—even i can’t comprehend it. swear i’ll die without you,” he leans his forehead against yours, with an arm propped up on the wall beside your head.

you rub faster, enjoying the moment of cheol unraveling just by a touch from you.

“swear i’ll die if you don’t touch me now—and if i’m not inside you right now baby, need you,” he breaks out in desperation and you give in, unzipping and allowing him to step out of his pants.

wasting no time, he gets rid of his boxers and goes over to the couch to sit down, tapping his thigh twice, you immediately shuffle over to sit on him, warm cunt hovering over his growing cock.

“don’t tease baby, told you i need to be inside you now,” he grabs your waist before aligning your cunt to slowly sink down his red cock that’s bursting with veins, feeling like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t feel you wrapped around him.

“f-fuuuck,” you moan out, stomach twisting at how good cheol feels when he’s fully inside you, and you start to ride him, chasing that impending high that you know is coming.

“baby—you feel too fucking good, s’unreal,” cheol croaks out as he grips onto your hips tighter, guiding your pace, not wanting to come in you too quickly.

his wandering hands move on to playing with your swollen tits, your nipples so puffy from earlier it drives him crazy, “so pretty, so fucking sensitive for me always, fuck,” he tugs on them, eliciting a louder whine from you.

his keeps a hand on your tits, occasionally giving it light slaps across and he salivates at the way it jiggles. another hand reaches up, wrapping around your neck which looks too clean for him.

your face contorts in an unexplainable pleasure, and he knows he’s got you at you tipping point. “cheol—daddy, squeeze harder,” you prompt him, wanting him to push you over the edge faster.

“yeah? my little slut wants daddy to go harder? you dirty girl, my dirty girl though— my pretty dirty girl,” he groans, hands squeezing tighter at the pulse points, while he strikes one tight slap across your tits and you can’t stop moaning.

he can’t stop singing praises for his pretty baby, and all he wants is to express how much he adores you every second.

“so close daddy so close, wanna cum wanna cum,” cheol snaps his hips up faster, while maintaining the pressure around your neck.

“gonna make you cum so hard around daddy, then pump you full of daddy’s cum after—show you how much daddy loves you, yeah?” he revels in the way your voice breaks at the incessant amount of moans escaping your mouth.

“gonna cum—daddy can i cum now?” you bit down on your lips, feeling something in your lower abdomen growing and growing, threatening to spill over any minute.

“my pretty baby always so polite—yes baby, cum for daddy now,” and you let go, seeing white as you convulse and jerk around him, crying out his name repeatedly.

his grip around your neck holds you in place, “fuuuckk that’s it baby, let daddy see how hard he made you cum,” cheol will never get tired of watching you cum—especially when it’s around his cock.

“gonna let daddy pump you full now baby? i’m about to cum okay baby,” he starts to snap his hips up even rougher, before releasing a hot load inside of you with a groan and you moan at the feeling as it reaches deep inside you.

“fuuuuck, that’s it baby, take it all, take all of daddy’s cum yeah—you’re mine baby,” he moans out, panting as the last few drops paints your walls with his essence

cheol’s heart swells at the thought of you being so full of his cum—full of him. he thinks there’s no other way to express that you’re fully his other than this act of claiming.

he kisses you, stroking your cheek and uttering words of affection against your lips—and you feel that all is right with the world again.

WANTED IT TO BE LONGER THAN THIS! will be writing more of this au!! but for now,, thank you guys so much for 400 again!! can’t wait to be putting out more works soon! love u guys xx 🖤💋

perm taglist: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127

[lovscb97]

synopsis: doing the "suspect is.." trend with jisung, felix, seungmin & jeongin

tags: established relationship, lots of suggestive comments like a Lot, use of nicknames (baby, mama, angel, etc), fluff, playful banter, kys/kms jokes like a Lot of them but i swear they're just jokes im so sorry plz click off if they bother u, etc

add. notes: hello friends :3 i am currently working on nerd!chan pt. 2 so do not fret if anyone is wondering abt that but i didn't want to leave u guys hanging as that's gonna take some time so i thought i'd put out the rest of the maknae line fake texts for this prompt instead to feed u all eheh.. i did do it differently this time n im sorry there r so many kys/kms jokes omgnrkdjd i hope u guys know i have no humor beyond that i am very sorry... anyways Also i wanted to say thank u for 400+ followers as well manhi saranghae... <3

chan's part / rest of hyung line's part

. . .

⥽ … HAN JISUNG: 

⥽ … LEE FELIX: 

⥽ … KIM SEUNGMIN: 

⥽ … YANG JEONGIN: 

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[love-belle]

saw ur mom at the grocery store !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them hanging out with each other's families.

or

for when you find out that your second family is actually your ex's family. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

sequel - well, i'm still in love with you ·˚ ༘

warnings - language

author's note - hello!!!! a short one but i hope u like it <3 thank u sm for reading i love you <3

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lorenzotl, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 797,427 others

yourusername saw ur mom at the grocery store i always knew she really did like me more

7,825 comments

username THE CAPTION

username i just gasped omg

username HELPHSHSKAKSJSKAK

username MAMA LECLERC AND Y/N

lorenzotl please return my mother

-> yourusername shush we're going shopping

username THE SHADEEEEE

username i know charles is shaking rn

-> username bro regrets introducing them 💀💀💀

username love that they're still so close like ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

carla.brocker stay right where you are, i'm on my way

-> yourusername already ordered a frappe for u <3

username I NEED CHARLES TO REACT TO THIS RN LIKE

username bro hurt her so bad she started rhyming

-> yourusername PLEASE

username why r u so pretty

username idk what happened just the fact that charles should be on his knees crying screaming throwing up for her to take him back

username the way pascale is always so "😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘😘☺️☺️☺️☺️" with her :///

arthur_leclerc pineapple is mad. i repeat pineapple is mad

-> yourusername hoes mad ur honour

-> username NOT CHARLES BEING PINEAPPLE

username THIS IS SO WHOLESOME (if we ignore the caption)

username should've known it was only a matter of time before y/n said something 💀💀💀💀💀

username queens

-> username icons

-> username girlbosses

username charles is fuming rn i Know it

lilymhe missing u ml

-> yourusername cannot wait to see u bb <3

username no bc why did i think for even a second that they ended on good terms.

username my two absolute girlbosses

charlotte2304 wowwwwwwww. guess my invitation got lost in mail huh?

-> yourusername we're literally going to dinner tonight??????

-> charlotte2304 okay and???????

-> yourusername join us!!!!! we can have a girls' day!!!!! carla is on her way too!!!!!! - pascale

-> charlotte2304 i'm halfway through the door love you!!!

username no bc all jokes aside i wonder how y/n and charles must be feeling with yk, both of them being close to each other's families and friends like

-> username no bc imagine having to stay in the same friend circle after u break up like that's so 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username the caption punched me in the gut js saying

username she's the favourite child 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, landonorris and 868,525 others

charles_leclerc vacation with ex in-laws ❤️

8,627 comments

username NAH NO WAY

username OH MY GOD

username PLEASE

username charles being a petty bitch we love to see it

username NOT HIM GOING ON A WHOLE ASS VACATION WITH HIS EX'S FAMILY

arthur_leclerc that's where you had to go "so so so urgently"

-> charles_leclerc yeah !!!

username bro went on a vacation with her family bc she went grocery shopping with his mom 💀💀💀💀💀💀

username no bc he got the grandparents too

-> username HE GOT THE DOG

username y/n bout to move in his childhood home i can feel it

-> username they're both so stubborn and petty so i wouldn't be surprised at all 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username him being close with her family after they split hits me in the heart idek why

lorenzotl maman says you should've told her, she wanted to see them too

-> charles_leclerc i invited them to dinner next week, tell her to not worry

username THIS IS SO

username no bc she went GROCERY SHOPPING with his mom and this mf went on a VACATION

username what'd they even talk about 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-> username "your daughter is giving me grey hair" "you're not the only one, son"

*liked by charles_leclerc*

-> username PLEASE OMG

username i would do anything to be on this vacation

username kinda need y/n and charles to interact again

username IT'S ONLY 7AM WHAT THE FUCK

landonorris tell (your mom's name) i miss her cooking and her favourite son says hi

-> charles_leclerc she says she's going to the next race so she'll make something for you and no. i'm her favourite son

-> carlossainz55 pretty sure it's me

-> pierregasly no way

-> lewishamilton it's me actually

-> maxverstappen1 shut up it's me

-> danielricciardo it's me lmfao

-> yourmomsusername it's actually mick and roscoe

-> mickschumacher YES

-> username the way everyone is close to y/n's family :///

username y/n's next post "so i moved into my ex's childhood home lol"

-> username the way idk what to expect from her 💀

username alrightttt all jokes aside please get back together with mom ❤️

username no bc if they don't work out then there's no hope for me ����💔💔💔💔💔💔

[meowshark12]

i know it won't work...(rc)

series summary: you're best friends with topper, kelce, and rafe. it has never bothered you to see them with other girls, knowing that they usually only have flings, but, when rafe gets what appears to be a girlfriend, how does this change things?

(not rly canon)rafe x kook!reader, original characters

warnings: none idk, first time writing beware

a/n: the slowest of all slow burns rn. feedback appreciated!! but pls be constructive abt it I can't handle hate

1 2 3

chapter 1: just friends!

It was approaching the end of May, something you were thankful for. Without any more classes to think about, you could focus on the important things in life; the beach, getting drunk, and hanging out with your friends.

Your friend group was one constant in your life that you felt would be impossible to live without. No matter the situation, you knew you could count on them.

Your boy friends, Topper, Kelce, and Rafe, you had basically grown up with. Topper's father is a business partner of your father, and both of your mothers got along so well that, when they became pregnant at almost the same time, they were ecstatic.

Topper made his own friends, and so did you. So what could be the harm in merging your groups?

Your girls, Stella and Macey, have been your closest friends since you all met in the same class at the beginning of freshman year. The three of you were inseparable, defying the odds of "trios never work".

The group of the six of you got on like a wildfire, which was why you were so excited to spend the whole summer with them.

You had entered your final class of the day, a class that you had with Rafe and Kelce. Assigned seating was your worst nightmare, you being seated in the back and them together in the front. None of your girls were there, and your boys were too far out of reach. So, you decided to focus on what you could, which was probably why you were doing comparatively better in this class than all of your others.

The class droned on for a while, Kelce and Rafe both messing around in the front while occasionally stealing glances at you. Rafe lets his look linger for a split second too long. You had barely noticed, but you heard whispers of the girls in front of you.

"I really don't understand how they're friends" one of them whispered.

"He's definitely looking at you, Amber, not her." her friend replies.

From there, you tuned it out. You were used to the jealousy that came with being close with them, so you try to not let it bother you anymore. But, maybe he wasn't looking at you. Maybe he and Kelce were messing around to get the attention of the girls in front of you. You tune back into the lecture, only letting your gaze drift to Rafe and Kelce a few more times.

As your final class of the day ended, you checked your texts from the "big 3" groupchat with just you, Stella, and Macey.

...

stella may💫

im bored

mace🦋

girl pay attention. how do you expect to learn

anything if ur always on that damn phone

stella may💫

stfu. what r we doing later? need to fantasize ab

something to get me thru the day

mace🦋

idk. thought top was throwing? ask yn,

he usually tells her first🙄

stella may💫

don't sound so jelly just bc u want topper bad.

yn what's the plan?

...

You looked down at your phone, smiling briefly at your friends' text messages. Truthfully, you didn't know if Topper was throwing, but you hoped he was. Parties are always better when your friends were the first there and last to leave. You reply to the girls, a quick "idk, come to mine after school?", before turning off your phone and packing your things as the class was dismissed.

At the front of the class, you see Rafe and Kelce waiting for you. Rafe is staring at his phone, while Kelce taps his foot, faking impatience with you.

"What took you so long?" Kelce asks, eyeing you quizzically. The three of you begin to walk outside, slowly making your way to the parking lot to meet your friends.

"Just the girls blowing up my phone," you laughed. "They're asking if Top is throwing tonight. They always expect me to have the answer," you say with a sarcastic roll of your eyes. Kelce laughs. There is a silence that follows. Kelce accepts your answer, and Rafe is still glued to his phone.

"What are you staring at dude?" Kelce questions, shoving Rafe lightly.

Rafe replies, "Oh- just a message from my dad. No big deal," eyes shifting so slightly that you almost missed it. He avoids your gaze and changes the subject easily. "So, Topper's throwing then?"

You knew Rafe better than to let that slide, and decided you would talk to him about it another day, perhaps after he had cooled off a little. Though you and Topper were originally the best of friends, you and Rafe have become closer over the few years that you have known each other.

Rafe always found it easy to talk to you. You were like a vault, so anybody's secret would be safe with you. You believed that people's stories were their own to tell, and, if someone told you something, you would never even think about sharing it for them. Because of this, and because of your willingness to trust Rafe, he began to slowly open up to you.

The first instance of Rafe's openness was years ago after a party at Tannyhill, before the two of you had really even become friends. You were more like acquaintances who knew each other through Topper. Most everyone had gone home, a few stragglers stumbling out and your friends already upstairs, but you had started straightening things out downstairs in the kitchen. This party was particularly rowdy, and it always pained you a little bit to let other people clean up a mess that they didn't make. Rafe walks into the kitchen and stops when he sees you.

"What are you doing?" He asks, and you turn, still squatted down trying to sweep up shards of broken glass.

"Just trying to clean up a little, it makes me a little anxious just going to bed and leaving all of this," you reply honestly, standing up and tossing the broken glass into a bucket that you had found outside. You looked into his eyes. The blue of them was much darker in this lighting.

"Oh," he says, shocked, "you don't have to do that. I can take care of it." He breaks eye contact with you, but you speak again.

"It's really not a big deal, just trying to make it a little easier in the morning." There's a silence that follows. You clear your throat. "I just know that I like when other people do this for me, so I figured I would return the favor... as best as I can, I guess. These people really did a number on your house." You laugh lightly.

He scoffs, amused. "You could say that. This is gonna be the last party I throw here for a while." Rafe says, leaning against the countertop behind him. He notices the look that you give him, which propels him to explain himself further. "Ward hates when I party, and after the last one he gave me this huge lecture. I dont know, I think he thinks it's gonna send me down the wrong path." You're silent, just barely nodding along as he speaks. He continues, "I guess he's kinda right, I mean I'm not perfect, but it's annoying that he sees me as this unhinged freak when Sarah does the same things and he sees her as an angel." He finishes. You nod, sympathetically while Rafe begins to wonder why he even told you that to begin with.

He's not the most open person, after his mom died and his father remarried, he's found it hard to open up to anyone. His mother was his rock when he was younger, and he resents his father for just giving up on her like and finding someone new. But, something in your warm demeanor reaches out to him, and he feels like he would tell you anything if you asked.

"I get it," you say, before Rafe can walk away and pretend this conversation didn't happen, "My parents have always been like that with my sister too. Sometimes I feel like I don't really even exist to them, but I know that they just want what's best for us. She just needs more attention, I guess," you reply, shrugging a little. Rafe gives you a small smile, acknowledging what you said. You knew that Rafe had really opened up to you, and you felt like you owed him a little piece of yourself in that way too.

The silence that follows is comfortable, and you both begin straightening things around the house. Rafe is sweeping everything into a pile in the kitchen as you enter from the living room carrying a bag of garbage. It's only been around 15 minutes, but you speak again.

You had been thinking about what he said as you picked things up. "I hope you know that you're not actually an unhinged freak, Rafe," you begin, setting the bag down and turning to face him, hoping to add a bit of humor to make the next thing you are about to say a little less serious than it is. Rafe chuckles, but stops what he's doing to look at you, clearly interested in what you were gonna say next. You continue timidly, "at least, I know that's not how I see you"

"How do you see me, then?" He replies with a smirk, looking you up and down. You knew he was trying to give you a chance out of what you had started, but you don't relent.

"Thats not what I meant," you say with a roll of your eyes, you lean on the counter facing the table, "I just meant that I don't think you give yourself enough credit." You wait a beat, seeing how Rafe is reacting to what you're saying. You wouldn't want to continue if he seemed any sort of uncomfortable, but Rafe seemed to be hanging onto your every word, now seated on the kitchen table. You continue, "I mean, putting a drunk Topper to bed is a skill that few people have been proven to possess," at this, he lets out a laugh, leaning back onto his hands while waiting to see what else you have to say. "And it's almost impossible to remember Stella's or Macey's coffee order, but you do it flawlessly any time they ask."

He playfully rolls his eyes. "It's not that hard..." he responds before you continue.

"And I've seen the way you treat your youngest sister, even if she can annoy you sometimes." You pause, but he doesn't respond, looking down at his feet. "And I know you put on that tough guy act, but your actions toward some people about show that you care a lot more than you let on. So basically... I have a lot of respect for you." you finish, unsure what really possessed you to say all of that.

Rafe is silent, the only sound in the room is some light snoring that you know is coming from Topper down the hall. Was he really that transparent? You think that you may have said too much, but Rafe takes a deep breath before saying, "Do you really think all of that?" You nod, he lets out a surprised huff, and you accept that as your queue to turn in for the night. Maybe you both were too drunk to act sane, which could explain the nature of the conversation, but you meant everything you had said.

"Well, I think I'm gonna go to bed, but thanks for staying up and cleaning with me. Goodnight, Rafe" you say with a yawn.

"Goodnight, YN" he responds, and you swear you see the faintest blush on his cheeks. He was still reeling from all of the nice things you had said to him.

After borderline forcing Topper to host a party tonight, you and your girls split ways with the boys. You all piled into your car, blasting music on your way back to your house. You walk in, saying a quick "hi" to your parents and siblings before heading straight up the stairs into your room. You sit on your bed, while Stella and Macey find spots in an armchair and at your vanity. The three of you sit in silence for a while before beginning to debrief the parts of the day that you had spent without each other. The debrief was nothing to really write home about, until you spoke up after a few seconds of silence.

"You know that Amber girl who sits in front of me in 4th period?" you ask, trying to be nonchalant about your question, though it was weighing on your mind all day.

"I think so," replies Macey, looking at herself in your vanity mirror. Stella just nods along.

"Well, Kelce and Rafe were messing around during class and would look in my direction every once in a while for some attention, and the one time she was like 'ugh I don't even know how they're friends' or something like that," you explain, and you see the girls' faces change, Macey's jaw hanging open. "Usually shit like that doesn't bother me but there was something about it that I lowkey can't stop thinking about..."

A look of recognition crosses Stella's face. "Wait... isn't that the girl who is literally obsessed with Rafe?" she questions, "I swear I remember him talking about her to Top and Kelce the one day."

"That would make sense," Macey adds, while you just look confused.

"I mean yeah I guess," you reason, "but I don't know... it just rubbed me the wrong way I think." You try to articulate your thoughts the right way, but it makes you seem more possessive of your boy friends than you intended.

Of course, they can have other friends that are girls. You would just prefer that you and your girls are their first priority. You continue as you remember another detail. "oh my gosh and then her friend was like 'he's definitely just looking at you Amber' which made me unsure if they were actually looking at her or me. UGH I don't even know what to think. Not that they can't look at her obviously. I just thought they were looking at me, and, I don't know, I feel stupid even saying this."

"I don't know, I wouldn't worry about it too much. You know you're their number one girl anyway," Macey says, while Stella rolls her eyes at her friends bluntness. You blush lightly, not considering it like that. You and Stella exchange a glance before you speak again.

"You know they love you guys just as much as me." You explain, not trying to start a confrontation before what is supposed to be a great night. The two girls just shrug.

"Yeah we know, but I think she's just saying that you don't need to worry about them replacing you with that Amber girl. You're their best friend!" Stella says, trying to reason with you. You understand what they're saying, and you nod along.

You decide to change the subject. "Ok well do you guys want to get food before we leave?"

"Hell yes. Pizza has been calling my name all week." Macey says.

"Yeah I'm down!" Stella exclaims.

You call and order pizza, glad that you were able to change the subject. Just after that, Topper calls you asking for drink requests. You tell him to get you "the usual" and that you'll Venmo him later. He tells you that he will text the group chat of the six of you when they're back and you can come over.

The three of you eat the pizza in what feels like record time, still having probably around an hour before needing to walk over to Toppers house. It was lucky that you lived so close to him- he was always nearby if you needed him, or if you needed to walk back to your house after getting shitfaced.

After Topper's call, the three of you begin getting ready. You put on a black tank top and loose jean shorts, accessorizing with your favorite jewelry.

"Shots?" You ask, raising your eyebrows. The other girls immediately agree, and you pull out a bottle and three shot glasses. You take the shots, wincing. You look between your friends, wondering how you got so lucky, when you get a text from Topper telling you to head over.

(to be continued hopefully. lmk if you like!)

[moonstruckme]

hii idk if ur taking requests but can u write sth with rockstar!remus who’s like full of adrenaline after a shkw and just kisses r ☹️☹️ the others wont let them be LOLLL😭😭😭 hope ur having an amazing day 💘

You have an amazing day too !

rockstar!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 643 words

James all but sprints off the stage, as he always does, working off his post-show adrenaline the best way he knows how. His routine seems unaltered by the fact that this is the biggest show the boys have played yet, but you don’t suppose he can really kick it into a higher gear than it already is. It’s also entertaining for the rest of you, watching him hurdle over sound equipment and careen past frightened-looking crew members before calling a “sorry!” behind him. 

You know to expect Remus behind him, leaving the stage at a slower pace while Sirius stays and soaks up the energy for as long as he can before someone physically drags him off, but you’re not expecting the unusual energy about your boyfriend when he comes in. 

Remus is crackling, the exact sound of when he plugs his bass into the amp but around him like an aura. Your heart kicks in your chest. 

You beam at him, holding up the small bouquet you’d impulse-bought at a stand a few blocks from the venue. You feel a bit silly, but Remus doesn’t seem to mind. 

He lets out a breathy little laugh at the sight of you and shakes his head as he takes two long strides, grasping your hips and pressing you into the wall. 

The flowers are instantly forgotten. Remus’ mouth is warm and insistent on yours, his knee pushing in between your legs and his nose pressed into your cheek. You don’t realize you’ve stopped breathing until he breaks the kiss. 

He sets both hands on your cheeks. There are crew members buzzing around you, and the crowd is still thrumming outside, and somewhere James is talking loudly, but Remus’ face is the only thing in the world. Scarred and sweaty and smiling at you. 

“Great show,” you scrape out. 

Another short laugh. If you didn’t know better, you’d say your boyfriend was giddy. “Yeah?” He gives you another kiss, shorter but still shock-happy. His lips stay curved against yours. “I thought so,” he admits, a bit softer, like a secret. 

You lower your voice to match. “You were incredible.” 

Remus grins even bigger, brilliant and totally unlike himself. He’s practically glowing. 

“Remus,” Sirius shouts, prancing toward the both of you with his usual regard for private intimacy, “if you’d pause in fondling your girlfriend, James says we’ve got a group out back who wants autographs.” 

Remus drops his forehead to yours, his disbelieving puff of air tickling over your nose. You pet down the hairs at his nape. 

“Oh, are these for us?” Sirius sounds delighted. Remus doesn’t take the bait, but you do, turning to find him looking at the flowers hanging limply from your grasp. “Doll, you shouldn’t have!”

“How could I resist,” you play along, letting go of Remus to ease one of the stems out from the rest. Sirius takes it from you happily. “They go so well with your outfits.” 

“More Remus’ than ours,” James notes, coming over. He’s even sweatier than the other two, but his excess energy seems mostly spent, “but I’m sure that’s only coincidence.” 

“Certainly,” Sirius agrees. “She’d never pick favorites. Say, babe, want me to sign something of yours?”

“She’s good,” Remus answers for you, tugging you closer and touching his lips to your brow. “I’ve got this one.” 

“I’ll bet you do.” James is grinning. He prods Remus’ shoulder, encouraging you both to follow him towards where the fans are waiting. “She may not pick favorites, but you will, is that right?” 

“Enough,” Remus says, but he’s still too happy to work up any real rancor. 

“Oh, I already know you’re gonna get an extra special autograph, doll,” Sirius teases. Your face starts to heat. “Likely when we see you tomorrow, he’ll have left you some even darker than a marker could do—” 

“Enough.” 

[ejundo]

Do u think maby you could do an outgoing reader and a quiet introverted guy who's a huge secret perv there friends and reader finds out his 'shy' friend isn't so shy~♡ (top m charecter, bott m reader) - (love Ur writing!)

outgoing bttm m reader x top shy giant charac

—

NOT PROOFREAD(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ [ characters are obviously 18+ ]

a.n : hai!! apologies for not answering to everyones request.. finals r kicking my ass… but i thought this would be a good drabble (saw the request while witth my friends.. almost screamed.) and THANK YEWE for the compliment my dear! ALSO THANKS FOR 500 (almost 600) FOLLOWERS?? ILY ALL!! <3

laughter filled the room , and that laughter was coming from you, arms wrapped around the victim. his gaze averted but small laughs left his lips ‘it wasnt— that funny..’ he mumbled as he watched your beautiful eyes. the shadows contouring your face perfectly as the sun set, casting a glow to your features . fuck

‘oh come on!!! it was pretty funny… you cant even lie t’me” pulling away, you looked back at your packed lunch. ‘ooh!! we should hang out today— or have a sleepover! theres no school tmrw remember?’ suggesting while grinning , your hands wrapped around the metal container. ‘mmm… maybe i mean ill have too see..’ he was appalled, he was so excited he was gonna strangle the next person he saw… not you though. pulling out his phone to seem busy you looked away from him as you ate the last remaining pieces of food.

‘shouldnt be busy today. your house?’

‘duhhh!!! and yay! we could play video games and watch that one movie that came out—‘

‘mhmm, im down. ‘

—

the sound of the door bell ringing quickly caught your attention, racing to the door you dropped all blankets needed for the sleepover.

the door swung open the cold air entering the home making you shiver though sigh in relief as it freed the warm hot air. ‘haiii! glad ya got here safe, ooh-! i made us some snacks, and then some store bought food on the table in my living room— you can. settle down your stuff up in my bedroom’ you explained quickly as you practically rushed to be by the others side. his hands fiddled with eachother while your warmth embraced him , arm wrapping around his bicep.

"hope you didn't have too much trouble coming here- you can settle down on the couch while i get my blanket from upstairs! then we can watch that movie and uhh! sleep? or play games!!" you suggested moving away from him, he watched your every move, the way you carried yourself up the stiars settling himself on your couch. the house was cozy, it was cold aswell.. just how you liked it.

it even smelled like you, the scent invaded his nostrils calming him, his head was thrown back as he relaxed in ur smell. eyes closed, though the shuffling of your feet and blankets dragging against the floor caught his attention as he awoke and stared at you "need help?" he asked, shaking your head you threw the blankets onto the couch- well onto him..

throwing yourself onto the couch you snuggled the cold blankets ontop of him. he looked at you with a raised eyebrow, "what movie were you talking about?" "you'll see! i think it may be a horror movie- its rated r" "so you don't know for sure what it would be?" shaking your head you got off him and grabbed the remote. he took that time to sit up and lay the blanket out.

your hands grazed the remote before heading over to the streaming site, scrolling through to find the movie. once found, pressed the button and rushed onto the couch jumping onto the other, yelping in surprise he only held you. "cuddle?" he asked softly, you nodded your head frantically. I mean.. it was normal to cuddle your homies right? thought so.

.

his heavy breathing and your calm breaths. eyes tuck to the screen, but it seemed as if your were the only one paying attention.

your warm body held by the arms of the boy infront of you. he gulped softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, oblivious as to what you were doing. your body pressed up against him, and his growing hard on.

you had noticed- but it was normal for people to get hard.. but fuck he just couldn't contain himself. the way your bodies collided, how you unintentionally rubbed his cock with your inner thigh. his hips bucked into your thigh before he let out a long sigh.

"fuck, im gonna go to the bathroom.." you looked at him and tilted your head "oh alright ill pause the movie." getting up your sat up and leaned over grabbing the remote before completely getting off him. the view presented infront of you surprising you, his flushed cheeks and his hard dick pressing against his sweats. blinking rapidly you stared at the obvious hard on. . noticing your gaze, his member twitched. "stop . . don't look" he mumbled embarrassed.

but he only lied. he wanted you to look, he didn't try covering it up. thats when you came to conclusion. "ah!- . . you- did i ? do that to you.." it throbbed.

"shit . . ." he mumbled throwing his head back. " look i don't mind . . i just didn't think-" you flushed at the thought he even- got hard because of you. "i actually.. i invited you here just. for you know.."

his eyes widened, feeling embarrassed you covered your face thinking he was gonna call you weird... but when you looked at him, a smirk was placed on his lips.

he reached out grabbing your wrist as he pulled you ontop, legs straddling his sides. " y'dont know how long ive been wanting to fuck you..." your heart pounded in your chest. "are you-" interrupted as he pulled you into a kiss, his rough lips pressed against your soft ones. a moan leaving his lips as his tongue grazed your bottom lip.

allowing entrance, both tongues dancing in a rhythm. relaxing in his grasp, he pulled away looking at your now disheveled look. the way your pajamas fell loosely down your shoulder, your throbbing cock pushing against your pants. "matching boners.. cute. except mines bigger." he mumbled he reached down grabbing your dick and pressing it against his own. comparing the two.

he wasn't wrong.. yours was smaller compared to his girthy one. "ive been waiting for this y.n.." the way your name sounded rolling off his tongue was sweet like honey, his large hand trailed to slip your pants down revealing your throbbing member following behind he whipped it out practically jumpscaring you. the wet tip looking at you .

"c mon baby." he mumbled eyes low as he watched your eyes, oh how hungry you looked. " dont be shy darlin" he mumbled his hands trailing up your body, hands resting at your hips rubbing gentle circles. your breathing heaved as you trailed down , face met with his girth. licking your lips, your tongue licked his tip as if it was your last meal, getting comfortable your lips wrapped around his cock. sucking on the tip , leaking precum onto your soft tongue he audibly groaned moans spilling out from him. "fuck why are you so good at this shit..." he grumbled, a large hand gripping onto the back of your head slightly edging you to go on further. and further you went, reaching the back of your throat you took it.

moaning at the sight he grinned messily biting his lip. "atta boy.." he hummed.

with one hand, you wrapped it around with whatever you couldn't take stroking it gently while your free hand prepped your hole, moaning into his dick, he pressed his lips together with hazy eyes he pulled your head away. "mngh.." you moaned , staring into his eyes as you fingered yourself open. he grabbed your hips pulling you closer , you laid your head against his chest, whining as he pulled your hand away. "i wanna fuck your tiny hole.." he hummed into your ear, feeling the tip of his girthy cock align with your slick he pushed up. causing you to twitch you gripped onto his shirt sinking down onto his length.

"fnh! hmmnhahnh" smiling at your dazed face held your hips, fucking into you gently as he watched your head nuzzle his chest. "lemme see your face." though your eyes only looked up at him , feeling his dick throb inside of you.

by then he was fully in, your tight warm walls huggin his yummy large cock. his eyes staring at you lovingly, hungry. hands gripped onto your hips, he used you as if you were a fleshlight. moans spilling out drool leaking from your lips as your eyes stared up at him. "your- funhck.. beautiful."

"gonnhacuhm.." you moaned into his chest, your juice leaking onto his shirt, staining it as you twitched reaching your climax, not far behind he held you down as he came inside of you.

the both of you moaning in pure bliss.. head thrown back you held onto him.

"ill fuck you better next time.." he mumbled, pulling out of you as his warm cum leaked out of you.

-

a/n : i finished a request yayyayayayy!!! another one cummin soon sooo be prepared guys!! (,,>ヮ<,,)!

[whore-era]

1-800-GIRLS

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: where ellie dials the wrong number and meets you instead. ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, mentions spitplay/breathplay/overstimulation, mentions sexual interactions with men, dirty talking, guided masturbation (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames (babygirl, sweet girl, pretty girl, pup, puppy) let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: i feel like this kinda sucked bc towards the end i kinda rushed it, but i couldn't shake this idea n knew i had to write it. hope u like it bbs<3 also thank u to my bestie @elskittie for helping me figure some things out w this fic ☁︎ word count: 4,463 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 2

phone call style story — reader is in italics, ellie is in bold.

monday, 12:45am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, hot stuff?

uhh.. i just wanted to order a pepperoni pizza..

oh yeah? you want something hot and ready? i have something hot and ready for you.

ummm..

you hear some shuffling in the background, "jess! i think you gave me the wrong number!" the person comes back on the line again.

this isn't papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

....do you want me to roleplay as papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

woah woah woah! roleplay?? who the fuck am i on the phone with?

this is sugar from 1-800-GIRLS.....a sex hotline...for you know? phone sex.

PHONE SEX?? you hear the girl's voice yell in the background, "jesse! you ass! you gave me the number to a phone sex hotline!"

"does she sound hot?"

"well yeah, but—"

hey, you do know it's $1 a minute right? you've been on the line for almost 5 minutes, babe.

HUHH?? hell no..ok thanks sugar bear, or whatever. bye!

the line clicks off, and you shrug. sitting back in your bed to continue watching your favorite netflix show. you feel your work phone vibrate again, the name flashing 'bobby', a regular who frequents the hotline.

sighing and picking up your phone and holding it to your ear, you take a bite from your sandwich as you answer your 15th call this evening, "thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, big boy?"

tuesday, 2:12am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you tonight, cutie?

hey....sugar.. i just- er- wanted to apologize for yesterday. my buddy got your number confused with a pizza place we really wanted to try. didn't mean to sound rude last night.

it's no issue, babe. don't sweat about it.

.......

.......

soooo.... is that the only reason why you called?

ellie didn't want to admit that she was attracted to 'sugar's' voice and that she'd been thinking about it all day during class. but also, ellie was high as a fucking kite, which gave her the courage to even dial the number again anyways.

i— uh— well— how does this whole thing work?

what thing? the hotline?

yeah..

well, you call me, we have phone sex or talk or whatever, and then you hang up. again, it's a dollar a minute.

okay, okay, i get it. so we can just talk? about anything?

yeah, if you want to.

sick.

ellie takes another drag from her joint, before speaking again.

so, do you like doing this? being an operator or whatever?

you let out a laugh, which ellie caught.

specify what you mean by 'like'?

i mean— this is your job. do you enjoy doing it?

ehh...i guess.

c'mon. you can be honest with me.

well, being a sex hotline operator has it's downsides. obviously helping old men jack off gets a little weird sometimes — they have some unusual fetishes.

oh yeah? what's been the weirdest one so far?

uhhh..i have this one regular who has me pretend i'm a ghost. apparently, having sex with ghosts is a real turn on for him.

what the fuck. seriously?

mhm, it's true.

shit, dude....i don't think i could ever do what you do. i dunno how you can do it.

well when you have college tuition and rent to worry about, the downsides don't seem all that bad.

holy shit, you're in college? how old are you anyways?

19.

that's crazy. we're around the same age. i figured you were a bit older.

how 'bout you? how old are you?

21.

not bad not bad. you're way different from the clients i usually get.

yeah? how?

considering my usual clients are 40 to 60 year old men who are married with kids and have secret fetishes, i'd say you're out of my ballpark.

ellie laughs.

how do you know i'm not secretly an old, 57 year old man who's married to my wife janet with three kids? and i have a balloon fetish?

you let out a giggle, adjusting your sleep shorts as you lay back down on your bed, completely invested in your conversation with this girl.

well, how can i appease your balloon fantasies?

i'm just fuckin' with ya. definitely not a man and i have the more normal kinks and fetishes.

is that so? what are the 'normal' kinks and fetishes?

uhhhh....well i'm into bondage, i love tying girls up..i dunno, just seeing them open and vulnerable does something to me. i'm into breathplay, spitplay, overstimulation, and i'm definitely a dominant so—

all you could do was gape as the girl went on her tangent, listing off every kink she could think of. you gulped, suddenly getting a bit nervous from this topic of conversation. you were experienced in the field of phone sex, but actual sex was a totally different world you had no practice in.

so, how 'bout you sugar?

...uhhh....i'm a virgin actually.

the other girl went silent on the other side of the line.

what? but you work as a sex hotline operator.

oh yeah- but— hold on, i'm getting another call. i'll speak to you some other time.

you hung up and threw your work phone across your bed, laying your head down on your pillows. talking to men was so much easier for you, so why do you get all caught up when you talk to a girl?

it was nearly 3:30am, so you decided to turn in and call it a night, mentally preparing yourself for a busy day tomorrow.

wednesday, 11:45am

sitting next to professor adams, patiently waiting for the students to turn in their quizzes, you try to focus on the text of your 'philosophy 101' book.

you were grateful that professor adams gave you the opportunity to be his teacher's assistant for a little bit of extra cash, and you weren't complaining either. the tasks he gave you were easy for a mere $16 an hour. still, it wasn't enough to support all of your bills, so you couldn't drop the hotline gig.

"and time! everyone hand your quizzes in to my TA, regardless if you finished or not," professor announced. all the students shuffled towards the front, handing you their quizzes as you neatly put them in a small pile.

"ah shit— let me put the date on that," a girl, with a very familiar voice spoke. looking up, you're greeted with the most attractive girl you've seen in your life. she had brunette hair and green eyes, with a small scar on her right brow. was this..? no, it couldn't be. that would be insane.

handing you the paper, her hand brushes against yours. you look down at her quiz, seeing in messy, scribbled black ink the name ellie williams.

slinging her backpack on one arm, she heads out the door, "jesse! wait up for me!"

leaving you in a daze, you were completely speechless by the idea that one of your new, favorite clients from your nighttime job is actually a student at your university.

saturday, 1:45am → 1:14:34 ongoing call with 401-890-6798 (cranston, RI)

thanks, sugar. will be calling you again at the same time next week.

no problem, sir. goodnight. dream of me.

sure will, babygirl.

the line clicks as the older man hangs up, and you shudder a bit, feeling uncomfortable after having to roleplay as a ghost, again.

sighing heavily, you place your work phone on your desk and pick up your real phone, opening instagram and scrolling on your feed as you mindlessly snack on some gummy bears.

you double tap to like some of your friends pictures, wishing you were out at a party, drinking some lukewarm beer and dancing with your girls to the latest tiktok hits.

but instead you were cooped up in your apartment, dirty talking old men through their fantasies and bearing witness to their guttural groans and masturbation. it was a shame that friday and saturday nights were your busiest evenings.

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder for a moment, your finger hovering over the instagram search bar.

fuck it, you thought, typing 'ellie williams' and hitting search.

the username @_elliewilliams pops up, and bingo. it was the same girl from professor adams class.

luckily her profile was public, so you take your time carefully combing through her instagram account, mindful not to accidentally like her posts or anything.

ellie's feed consisted of smoking weed, eating out, and hanging with her friends, jesse and dina. there were only two selfies she had posted — one of her and an older gentleman and one mirror picture of her in a grey hoodie and a light brown canvas jacket that made her look so good.

the ringing from your work phone caught you off guard, causing you to jump in your chair and exit out of the instagram app. you take a look at the number, and speak of the devil, it was ellie herself. she was the only jackson number that ever contacted you.

saturday, 2:10am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, sugar speaking. what can i do for you, handsome?

hey, sugar. just wanted to apologize for how our last conversation went. i probably pushed a boundary or something— i'm not sure if you're supposed to talk about personal things with customers— so, i'm sorry.

you let out a soft laugh.

why is it when you call me, you're always apologizing?

'cause i'm a fuck up, that's why.

nooo, that's not true. besides, don't worry about it. your question just caught me off guard, you know? never had clients ask things about me before i guess.

ahh, gotcha. so...were you busy before i called?

you shake your head, even though she was on the phone and couldn't see you.

uh, not really. my line doesn't usually get busy until...12 midnight ish.. it slows down by like 2 am though. how about you? what are you up to this friday night?

i just got back home from a party. business was slow and it was getting boring, so i dipped.

business? what business?

ah— well—

ellie silently cursed to herself, not wanting to scare you away with her current occupation.

if i tell you what i do, promise you won't get freaked out or anything?

you're talking to a phone sex hotline operator. don't worry.

you can hear her laugh from the other end.

well, fuck it, cat's out of the bag. i deal weed on campus and shit.

ahhh. i like that. is that how you can afford the minutes you spend calling me?

yup. i can stay on the phone for hours if we wanted.

maybe you'll be my only customer.

i wouldn't complain.

speaking of customers, do you want me to save your number under a specific name or nickname or anything? since i'm assuming you're gonna be a regular?

trying to confirm if it was indeed ellie you were speaking with, you sat on the edge of your chair, anxiety building in your belly.

what nicknames do your clients usually pick?

uhhh. master, sir, king, mister, alpha— umm and daddy.

something stirred inside ellie hearing that last nickname roll off your tongue.

you could just put me down as ellie.

got it.

what do i call you? do i just keep calling you sugar?

well, you're a customer. you can call me anything you like, but, for formalities and privacy, i can only tell you my hotline nickname — sugar.

okay, okay, that makes sense. you're not really allowed to have any personal or close relationships with clients, huh?

no, not really. mostly for safety purposes.

ellie was a little disappointed to know that she wouldn't be able to get to know the girl she was talking to beyond calling on the phone. she already felt herself getting attached. your voice was alluring and enticing, and she couldn't help but want to hear it more, and possibly put a name and face to who it belonged to.

but, i could bend the rules a little if i really wanted to.

yeah? let's see about that.

saturday, 4:45 am → 2:43:03 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

oh my god! did you and your ex get caught??

you were enamored with ellie. the way she could keep a conversation going and the stories she told — you didn't wanna hang up.

no, no, no, luckily we hid behind a dumpsters before the cops could catch us. it's hilarious thinking about it now, but we were dumbass 18-year-olds back then.

you both were in fits of laughter, your belly aching and tears watering in the corners of your eye.

as you calmed down, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking a question that's been racking on your mind.

so, how long were you and your ex together?

uhhhh, about 2 years.

ohhh okay........are you seeing anyone right now?

ellie lets out a laugh, and you can hear her smile, even through the phone.

why? who's asking?

well, i was just— uhh—

i'm just fuckin' with you. nah, i'm not seein' anyone right now. single af.

okay, okay. good to know.

how 'bout you?

nope. i'm single too.

seriously?? how?

i dunno. just never found the right person i guess. also, working for this hotline has made me lose hope for relationships in general, some of these dudes call me and say all this stuff — while having a whole wife and family at home.

i think you're looking in the wrong place then. try talking to people at school or going out to parties—

can't. if i'm not doing homework or studying, i'm working and doing this. i gotta make a living somehow.

ellie couldn't help but feel bad, knowing if she could, she'd support you full time and take that weight off your shoulders.

hmm, maybe you'll meet someone who could support you and take care of your bills and stuff.

oh? where would i find that? sounds too good to be true.

maybe they're closer to you than you think.

your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of what to say next.

i— uh— i have to go. it's 5am.

oh— uh— yeah. of course. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

sunday, 11:37pm → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

hey.

hey. where's your usual greeting?

you're not a usual customer, so i think we're past that now, ellie.

ellie's heart thumped in her chest hearing you say her name.

good. anyways, what are you up to tonight?

just studying for a quiz tomorrow morning. how about you?

smoking, just finished some homework.

what class was it for?

uhhh, just this calculus class.

you clamped your mouth shut, suppressing a gasp. it was for professor adams class.

....uhhh, i could never get calculus. it's so hard.

yeah? maybe one night i can tutor you.

i'd be a terrible student.

i think you'd be the perfect student. i can teach you, i got you.

you couldn't help but think there was another meaning behind her words, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions. it would be embarrassing if you got her message all wrong.

what's your quiz on anyways?

energy transfer between cells, it's for biology.

i know a thing or two about that. here— why don't we do this, just explain to me what you know and we'll go from there.

okay, i can do that.

you and ellie spent the next two and a half hours talking about cell function and energy transfer and everything else in between, with her correcting you and adding in important things you missed.

alright, sugar, i think you're ready for this quiz tomorrow.

you think so?

i know so. you're such a smart girl.

there she goes again, praising you.

uh, th-thanks.

don't worry, okay? i know you'll do great.

a smile curls on your lips, flustered from all her support.

you should get some sleep, so you can be focused and ready for tomorrow.

m'kay. thank you, ellie, for all your help.

of course. always. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

monday, 5:32pm → 45:21 ongoing call with mister j (corpus christi, TX)

yeah, babe? you want me to fuck your tight ass?

mhm, yes mister.

c'mon. beg, sugar.

please. fuck my tight hole, mister j.

ah, hell.

you can hear his belt buckle clanging, and the soft buzz of a zipper.

what's wrong with 'ya tonight, sugar? you're bein' a real buzzkill, 'ya know that? fuckin' turnin' me off and makin' me soft.

i-i'm sorry, mister j. please, jus—

yea, yea, save it. we'll jus' try 'gain tomorrow.

the line clicks on the other end. tossing your work phone on your desk, you fall back on your bed and stuff your face in your pillow. weeping into the plush material, you let yourself fall apart and break down.

but your sobbing session is cut short as you can hear the familiar ring of your work phone.

wiping your tears, you walk over to your desk and answer.

monday, 5:45pm → 00:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

thanks for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's suga-

woah, woah, woah are you crying?

e-ellie?

yeah, baby, it's me. sounds like you're crying. what's going on? talk to me.

today was just a really, really bad day and then i opened my hotline a little early and one of my first clients just lashed out on me because i wasn't responding the way he wanted me to and—

you sniffle.

— and i'm just really stressed out by everything going on in my life right now.

i'm sorry. i wish there was something i could do— someway i could comfort you or take the weight off.

i-it's fine, ellie. talking to you is making it a little better.

ellie was silent for a moment, thinking carefully and planning her next moves accordingly.

do you trust me?

....y-yea, of c-course. why?

i'm gonna help you ease the tension. okay?

okay.

first of all, where are you?

i-in my room, sitting at my desk.

okay. go lay down on your bed.

with your phone pressed to your ear, you pick up your legs and stride over to your bed, laying down on the fluffy, material of your blanket.

okay, i'm on my bed.

good. what are you wearing?

foreseeing the direction this phone call was heading in, apprehension builds in your stomach.

ellie, you really don't have to-

hey, i want to help you. if that's okay with you. if not, we could talk about something instead.

biting your lip, you fold.

i-i'm okay with it, but i-i've never— played with myself with a customer before. i don't really do anything with myself even when i'm not working anyways.

that's okay. don't think of me as a customer, think of me as a...teacher. i got you, remember?

okay.

good girl. now, what are you wearing?

uh.. a tank top and shorts.

cute. take them off.

gulping, you follow her orders, shimmying out of your top and shorts.

done?

mhm.

good. so obedient.

i want you to rub your boobs for me. rub your nipples, pull on them, just feel the skin under your hand for me, baby.

rubbing the soft skin along your breast, and tugging on your hardened nipples, you bite your lip, savoring the way your body feels under your touch.

how does it feel?

feels good.

bet it does.

ellie couldn't stop her mind from imagining you, on your bed, perfectly naked. and how she'd give everything up, just to sneak a peek.

now, i want you to just rub your hands against the sensitive parts of your body. be slow and gentle, we're not rushing anything.

as your hands drift from your neck, down to the hills of your breasts, and to the edge of your panties, ellie speaks through the line again.

doesn't it feel nice, baby?

mhm.

wish i could be there, to watch you, touching your pussy.

you instinctively clamp your thighs, feeling heat rush to your core.

alright, take your panties off. slowly.

you slowly peel the piece of material off, looking at the small, wet spot that formulated on your underwear.

okay, they're off.

such a good girl, following my every command.

you gulp, her nickname for you sending shivers up your spine.

slowly feel the skin on your legs. stroke your inner thighs, tease yourself a little.

hanging off on her every word, you let out a shaky breath, the heat in your cunt growing only bigger and bigger.

god, i wish i can be there to see this right now. bet you look so good, thighs spread apart, pussy all wet— all because of me.

i- i'm aching. i need more, ellie.

i know, baby, i know. i wish i can help you more. if it were up to me, i'd have you bent over your desk, taking you from the back. fuck.

your mind drifts to that image, of her fucking you, taking you as hers. a stream of your slick begins to leak out from your pussy. god, you wanted her so bad.

slide a finger between your pussy, baby. let me hear how wet you are.

spreading your thighs apart, the tip of your fingers slips in between the folds of your pussy lips, the slick sound of your wetness echoing throughout the room. loud enough for ellie to hear.

fuuuuuck.

i-

you tried to speak, but it comes out sounding like a pathetic whimper. ellie's brain was going insane, she couldn't believe where she had you, writhing from her mere words.

go ahead, pretty girl. rub slow circles on your clit.

the pads of your pointer and middle finger gently rub steady, figure 8's against your hardened nub. closing your eyes, you imagined ellie, and how it was her hand instead of yours. the thought had you panting, faint breaths releasing from your parted lips.

your pussy sounds so wet, holy shit. you sound so fucking good for me. so fucking perfect.

as your fingers continue massaging on your sopping, wet clit, a pool of wetness gathers right below your ass.

how does it feel, baby?

f-feels amazing, ellie.

you let out a low whimper.

i wish you were here.

me too, pup. me too.

you can hear her heavy breaths from the other end of the phone.

i wish i could be there, kissing your neck. trailing my lips down to suck on your nipples. fuuck, wanna taste every inch of your skin. i wanna feel your pussy tighten around my fingers.

you let out another pitiful moan, only to hear ellie curse under her breath again.

rub your pussy faster for me, angel. imagine it's me, pumping my fingers in and out. would daddy's pretty girl like that?

you couldn't respond. all you could let out was these weak whines, yearning for ellie and her touch. you added a third finger, building onto the pressure and picking up the speed.

your moans sound so pretty. wonder how'd they sound when you're taking my strap. gonna have you cry out my name, yeah? isn't that right?

mhm, yes, daddy.

good. that's what daddy likes to hear, such a polite girl.

with your eyes rolling back, you could feel your orgasm building.

i-i'm gonna— ellie, i—

you gonna cum for me, puppy? huh? c'mon, rub faster, baby. i know you have a little bit more left in you.

your fingers speed up, the sound of your wetness gushing out reverberated in ellie's ear.

oh my god, daddy can i? please? can i—

arching your back, you knew you were close. the feeling was getting to be too much and you were about to fall over the edge.

look at my baby, so respectful and asking permission. come on, pretty puppy. cum for daddy. let daddy hear how good she made you feel.

that was it. letting out a penetrating moan, you rode your orgasm out and finished all over your fingers, making a mess. you were heaving, chest rapidly rising and falling.

god, i made a mess.

oh, yeah? do one more thing for me. suck your fingers clean. puppies clean up their messes.

monday, 8:57pm → 3:01:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

after your little self-care session with ellie, she took it upon herself to get your mind off of today's events, filling your conversation with stories and interesting topics.

oh, forgot to ask, what'd you end up getting on that biology quiz?

ughhh, i got a 65 out of 100. one of the reasons why i was so upset today.

seriously? how?

i don't know! i asked professor gonzalez and she told me that i was focusing on the wrong thi-

wait, did you just say professor gonzalez? holy shit, you're taking biology 201 with professor g? do you fucking go to school at university of wyoming? in jackson?

oh shit, you didn't mean for that to slip out.

i— uh— i have to go—

wait! sugar! please. hear me out.

you stay silent, waiting for what she had to say.

if we really do go to the same campus, please, let's meet up. i really want to see you.

.....why?

i just— i love talking to you. spending hours with you on the phone is what i look forward to when i get home. besides, i really want to take you out, on a date.

you bit your lip, unsure of what to say.

listen, if you want to see me too, meet me at the library in building B, by the comic book section. okay? tomorrow at 1pm.

....

i really hope you come.

the line clicks off, and you spend the rest of the night restless, tossing and turning, debating whether or not to see her tomorrow.

tuesday, 2:50pm

ellie eagerly checked her phone again, bouncing her knee in distress. her mind was running rampant — fuck, she's not gonna come. maybe jesse was right. maybe i was wasting my time.

looking up for the 80th time, she scans the comic book section, seeing no one else but some dude with his face buried in a wonder woman comic.

as ellie gets up from her chair, she turns her head, and she freezes.

there you were, looking like an angel who entered from the garden of eden. ellie's heart sped up, seeing her girl standing before her. you were everything she could've imagined and better.

walking slowly towards the brunette, you brush a piece of hair from your face, and smile meekly.

"hi ellie, it's me."

pls let me know how this fic was, i tried out a new writing style & read pt 2 here <3

[judes-baeeee]

i wanna see more shy reader

can u do somethin like being friends w one of the england wags and being able to meet jude at the games bc we r w her at one of the games

and being super shy abt it

and him like rlly being into us

maybe him super flirty n trying to get us comfy

idk lol im super shy and i feel like theres not enough jude fics like this

Ofc xx

You have always been so shy towards anyone, even close friends sometimes and this is because you didn’t really like to be the centre of attention and you enjoyed that sometimes people forgot about you in places or situations, it’s just how it’s always been for you. You were friends with Tolami who was also somewhat an introvert like you which is why you guys got along so well, she invited you to one of the England games for the euros to which you of course didn’t turn down but you were a bit skeptical because it would be crowded and loud which you weren’t really used to; the game ended with England beating Slovakia all because of Jude Bellingham’s Bicycle kick and Kane’s goal towards the end, the crowd was so loud but happy which made you enjoy the match, you were somewhat interested in Bellingham but it was only a little crush since he didn’t know who you were. You guys waited around after the game ended for Bukayo but he came along with Jude, you grew nervous as you had never spoken to Jude before and he was just your type. Tolami and Bukayo started walking while talking and Jude started chatting to you which you were suprised about; he realised you gave little answers like “yeah”, “oh”, “no way” to the stuff he was talking to you about and giggling constantly which somewhat intrigued him, no one was usually this shy around him and you didn’t act like other girls who spoke to him. Jude also found you insanely beautiful to which he somewhat grew nervous as well but he couldn’t show it to you. “I was wondering maybe you would want to hang out tomorrow” your stomach turned because you couldn’t believe he was asking you out, you smiled shyly and responded “sure, why not” to which Jude also smiled back.

Hope you like and feel free to send more requests

[ninguitar]

୨୧　GUESS　˒˒　AU ( PT.2 )

─── ﹙🎱﹚with the label of "casual" put on yours and giselle's relationship, all you could do was continue it, which meant letting your feelings linger, or break it off completely, but fuck, was it difficult with aeri uchinaga being just so, her. INSPIRED BY GUESS BY CHARLI XCX FEAT. BILLIE EILISH.

pairing. aeri uchinaga x f!r genre. fluff & a lil angst wc. 1k+ notes. hope this ending was good enough for u guys ♡ part 2 of guess !! (MASTERLIST.)

now playing ⋆ i've seen this movie before by hyejin

AERI, AS MUCH AS SHE DIDN'T WANT TO ADMIT IT, was smitten by you; sure, you were just a hook-up at night, but during the day, you were her best friend—the one person she could depend on. you were the girl who she confided in—the one who knew everything about her, down to the brim.

so why continue a casual relationship with you? giselle didn't know either; it just felt all too perfect, like a dream, being able to find solace within the warmth of you. why ruin something perfect, aeri thought. and in giselle's head, you were the only exception to every single, little thing in her head; she never cared for sappy, sentimentalities, but your existence had completely eroded that. as mere "friends," she'd let you get matching bracelets for the two of you, and she always claimed they were childish and silly. nonetheless, she wore them always.

it was like you guys were attached to the hip surgically.

truthfully, you were everything aeri wanted—the perfect girl. and she almost poured out everything to you—keyword, almost. you may not see it, but each and every "unrequited" confession of giselle's consume her thoughts daily.

and today, the thought of you consumes her mind. it was like a mantra in her head, hearing your name in it over and over again, until aeri could come to terms with herself. against her will, the memory of your guys' argument flashed through her mind. staring at the ceiling, giselle felt tears crack down her cheeks, curling into a fetal position.

fuck was she stupid.

she squeezes her eyes before grabbing her phone, hastily dialing ningning's number. if anybody could give her an honest opinion, it was obviously ning yizhuo. her phone ringing omits through her bedroom, as aeri huffs, rubbing her temples.

"hello?" ningning's voice echoes through giselle's phone, as the japanese girl quickly sits up, leaning against her bed's headboard.

"fuckin' finally, ning. you took like years to pick up," aeri exaggerates, extending her groan.

"be grateful i'm even giving you the time of day. what do you even want anyway?"

"just… issues with a girl—one of my "situation-ships," or whatever. we had some fight about our label, and i think i ended it with her, i don't know, ning. 's just all weird and shit," aeri rants, a sigh drifting from her lips, as she bites the inside of her cheeks.

a giggle escapes ningning's breath, "shit, you want her, don't you? that's like so, unexpected given your history."

as much as giselle didn't want to admit it, she did have a lot of hook-ups that mattered nothing to her, but you were an exception, just like you were to everything else.

"shut up; she's just, well, her," aeri mutters against her phone, pulling her blanket to her chest.

"just talk to her, gi. it's not that hard; just grow some balls," a chuckle escapes ningning's throat, before she continues, "anyway, 'rina says hi."

"are you serious? you're airing this out to jimin too?" giselle huffs, embarrassed, as her cheeks flush.

"winter, too," ningning snorts before hanging up the call, leaving aeri to dwell on the chinese girl's words. maybe ningning was right, and giselle should talk it out, but how would she get you to listen to her?

your eyes open to the faint knocking against the glass doors of your balcony arch. a soft groan lingers in the air, as you get off your bed, your eyebrows furrowing. as you approach the balcony, you reluctantly pull the curtains open.

a soft gasp escapes your breath, "aeri?" you mumble under your breath, as you freeze in your position. it was like, 1 in the morning—what was she doing here, especially after your guys' fight?

"jesus, if you think i'm letting you in—" before you could continue your threat, giselle huffs audibly, despite the glass barrier separating the two of you.

"please?"

and it was like no other plea, especially when aeri uchinaga gently mumbles it, her tone dulcet, making you indulge in your temptations. you slide your glass doors open, inevitably making giselle fall into your arms, her weight resting on yours.

"so, talk," you mutter, your voice dull and monotone.

"i—" aeri begins, her tongue heavy with the weight of the words she's trying to form, "i'm sorry, okay? i just couldn't come to terms with my feelings. i fell in love with you—not from the hook-ups, but from the real you."

"gi—aeri," you correct yourself before continuing, "no- no, no—"

giselle sighs, and it's as if months of pushing and pulling her heartstrings burst all at once, "you're the one i want—not those stupid, snobby one-night-stands i have."

"don't say no just to make me go away; i know you, and you know better. only say no if you don't want me."

you're practically at a lost of words, your mind sent into oblivion, as your hands rest on aeri's chest, keeping distance between the two of you. you're so sure you've already lost your voice, a hollow breath of air lodged in your throat.

instinctively, you press giselle against the rigid glass doors of your balcony, closing the distance between the two of you. your head continues to reel, though this time, it was due to aeri's eager, tentative kisses against your lips.

pulling apart, you mumble, "i'm not settling for a situation-ship, or something casual." your hands rest around aeri's neck, while giselle's arms are snaked around your waist all tuck.

"whatever you want, 'm fine with; i just want you."

her blunt admission sends a chain of shivers through your body, as you nod, "girlfriends, that's all."

"then we're girlfriends," aeri pauses while whispering against your ear, before planting kisses trailing down your jaw. the warmth of your guys' body envelopes you guys, as giselle presses her lips against yours, deepening the kiss. her eyes, baring a glaze of tears, bore into yours with sincerity.

"I JUST WANNA BE YOURS," AERI UCHINAGA SOFTLY HUMS.

i don't wanna say too much

shouldn't have to wait for your love

taglist. ୨ৎ @yoohtonyy @yeetaberry127 @ourlovesarang @multiliker @eunzkkrua

@le3-r1n @imfearlessblog @spidrgamer @r4cjh

[miumura]

💭 — SUNGHOON AS YOUR IDOL BOYFRIEND !

★ — what it’s like having sunghoon as your idol boyfriend !

PAIRING idol!bf!sunghoon x gn!reader GENRE fluff !

WARNINGS reader is an idol as well, brief mentions of pecks

NOTE tysm anon for requesting ! i decided to make the reader be an idol as well to kind of write a little bit more but it does seem a bit shorter than my usual hcs 😭 but anyways i hope you still enjoy reading it regardless :) <3

— he secretly sneaks into your practice room just to say hi to you and your members he only goes to see you tho or just make up excuses js to see you like “forgetting” something from that practice room or just to give snacks to congratulate you and your group members !

— isn’t the idol to be too open about your relationship with him (not that he could) but like i don’t think he would tell his members ? maybe he’d let it slip out or the members eventually find out bc hes sooo obv abt it 😕 let a guy be in love

— risks sneaking out so that you both could have your dates! but with limits, the most you both can do is walk outside together or do quick store runs. but you both mainly hang out at the company.

— def the type to secretly pull you away from staff/members just to give you a quick peck before letting you leave 😭 he probably gets caught doing this act though 🤷‍♀️

— when vlogging content, he’d be interacting with you so it’s like an idol interaction that fans r craving for when in reality he just wants to be able to talk to you …

— asks stylists to “match” with you discreetly during award shows or such so that fans can be their little nosy selves n assume you both are dating due to the same clothing … he enjoys the rumors bc he knows its true

— any variety shows you both are on, TRUST he will be getting all the interactions he can get with you. anyone could notice your chemistry between each other … do you vision the edits rolling in about every little thing you do tgt? yeah, he wants that 🤗

— like his wide smile whenever he watches you is so noticeable. what happened to keeping it professional park sunghoon 🤨⁉️

— the most you both can do to “show off” your relationship is matching phone cases / posting around the same time or place / item bc it makes the delulu fans wild 🤔

— DEFINITELY posts selcas of himself and then texts you afterwards like “posted this for u 😉” “did you see what i posted” he wants a reaction so bad so pls give him that 🫶

💭 — first idol hc idk how to feel

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @dioroits @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[headkiss]

maybe this christmas time

pairing: steve harrington x sunshine!reader

summary: working as an elf during the holidays (which he isn’t a fan of) is not how steve would choose to spend his time, neither is doing a bucket list of your creation. you end up changing his mind.

word count: 9.5k

warnings: use of she/her pronouns for r, some grumpy steve (he’s still a softie underneath it, i can’t help it!), some family issues (a phone call from steve’s mom), a rude customer, christmas activities/themes, fluff, and a first kiss!

a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays from me to you!!! i hope u guys enjoy this one, i had a lot of fun writing it!! big big thank you to @bcyhoods for sending the request that inspired me to write this fic and to @bruisedboys who helped me out when i was unsure about things <333 ily guys i hope u all have the happiest of holidays!

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Starcourt Mall is decorated to the brim. Fake snow and garlands, giant ornaments hanging from the ceiling, a Christmas tree that stays lit all day long.

And, in the middle of it all, Santa’s Workshop.

That’s where you are, where you’ve been for a couple of Decembers now. Every other month of the year, you work at the movie theater, scooping popcorn and scanning tickets. But, for December, you trade in your cinema t-shirt for an elf outfit, striped tights and all.

“It’s really not so bad once you get past the itching,” you tell Steve.

“Great,” he says, the sarcasm clear in his tone.

“Great,” you repeat, cheery enough for the both of you.

He wasn’t sure how it could get any worse than the sailor uniform. That is, until he saw what he had to wear for this gig.

It’s Steve Harrington’s first year at Santa’s Workshop, and you’ve been tasked with training him, though the job is mostly self-explanatory.

But unlike you, Steve didn’t volunteer for this.

“I can’t believe they picked me to do this,” he sighs. “Don’t even like elves.”

“Well they had to pick someone, Steve.” You shrug, “who knows, you might end up having fun!”

“Not likely.”

“At the very least, you’re getting paid, right?” You nudge him once with your elbow, “plus, if you’re extra nice, some moms give pretty good tips.”

You and Steve went to school together, but he never really spoke to you then. It was only after graduation that you had any sort of conversation with him. They mostly consisted of him bribing you with free ice cream to let Dustin and the gang into the movies for free.

That was after you caught him letting them into the back rooms to sneak in.

Now, Steve’s wearing a pair of slippers that jingle with every step just like yours, and in the only two shifts you’ve had together so far, you’ve spoken more than ever. Even if it’s mostly been instructions from you and an unenthusiastic comment in response from Steve.

“Do I really have to wear these fucking shoes?” He asks, following you out of the staff room.

“Yes. It’s part of the uniform.” You turn around to face him, walking backwards while he walks forwards. “Don’t worry, you’ll tune out the jingling soon enough.”

“I’ll hear these jingles in my nightmares.”

“At least you look cute!”

You spin back around, and Steve only rolls his eyes as he trudges on behind you.

Steve’s not quite sure how he feels about you, whether he finds you a little annoying or endearing. At the moment, with an elf hat squishing his hair, he’s leaning a little more towards the first.

He didn’t know you during school. Admittedly, he was an asshole for most of his time at Hawkins High, so that explains that. Even still, he doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re kind enough not to snitch on him for sneaking the kids into the movies and that you seem to seep sunshine all the fucking time.

And your sunshine seems to be dialed up during the holidays. Like you really believe in ‘holiday cheer.’

Steve knows, deep down and buried somewhere he’s not quite ready to face yet, that he’s mostly just jealous. Because if you like the holidays so much, if you’re smiling the way you do so often, you must have it pretty good at home.

To him, nothing else makes sense. Not when Christmas at the Harrington household has been absolute shit for years. First, it was the gifts he never wanted, things his parents didn’t care enough to know he didn’t like. Then, they dwindled until, eventually, Christmas did, too.

There’s a travel discount during the holidays, sweetie. We’re visiting dad’s boss’ cabin. Next year, we promise. Excuse, excuse, excuse.

So yeah, Steve’s never really understood the appeal. Walking behind you in a pair of jingling shoes and a scratchy outfit, he’s not sure he ever will.

You lead him towards the area where Santa’s Workshop has been set up, right by the fountain. There’s bright red carpet rolled out over the usual tiled floors, an area set up for the cue of families, and of course, a bench where some guy playing Santa will sit.

“Since we’re opening today I’ll show you the whole set-up routine.” You step over the rope with the sign that says ‘Gone to feed the reindeer!’ with Steve in tow. “Easy peasy.”

Steve steps over the rope behind you, shaking his head at the sound his shoes make when he lands. He chooses to listen to your voice instead.

“First, we count the props,” you nod over at the bin that’s tucked away behind a small tree, “there should be four sets of antlers, two santa hats, a red nose, and some extra elf hats.”

He stares at you—because why on earth would you have that memorized—and raises his eyebrows. For a moment, as he watches you grab the clipboard that sits atop the prob bin and start counting, Steve wonders if maybe he should be more like you. The kind of person who seems to see the good in everything.

Then, he remembers what the outfit he’s got on looks like and shakes the thought away.

“Why would anyone want to be a clown in these pictures?” He says.

“The red nose is for Rudolph, dummy.”

You say dummy with a smile, like it’s something to admire. Steve huffs.

“Rudolph’s a loser.”

“Aw, come on, he’s got his own song and everything! I’d say that makes him the opposite of a loser.”

“Of course you would,” he mutters, cursing the tiniest twitch of a smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “What’s next?”

“Right,” you grab the bag that you brought from the staff room and set it on the ground by the tripod that’s already set up. “Next is the camera. Here, I’ll show you.”

The only knowledge Steve’s got of cameras comes from whatever Jonathan has told him, which hasn’t been very much, considering the pair’s history on the topic despite them being friends now.

So, he steps closer to you, watches as you pull the camera out of the bag.

“You just have to switch it on and make sure the battery’s full, right there,” you say, pointing at the small symbol that lets you know if the camera’s charged or not. “And don’t forget to take the lens cap off. I did it once and this dad yelled at me, so...”

You pop the lens cap off, putting it in the bag. Steve’s standing close to you, right behind you, his chin hovering over your shoulder, the warmth of his chest just shy of brushing against your back.

“Finally,” you continue, ignoring the little skip in your heartbeat, the way you breathe just a tiny bit quicker. “Set it up on the tripod, and you’re good to go.”

He watches your fingertips move easily, securing the camera to the tripod. When you’re done, you turn around to face him, and it’s only then that Steve realizes how close he’s gotten.

Close enough that you stumble and land against his chest, his hands on your upper arms to steady you as you pull back quickly, like you’d been burned. Steve, however, doesn’t let go just yet and he’s got no idea why.

He doesn’t let go until the music in the mall is switched on, the opening notes of some Christmas song startling you both. Steve steps back and releases you, dropping his hands by his sides and ignoring the twitch of his fingers.

“Alright,” you say, trying to brush the moment off. “That sound means we’re open. You ready?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope!”

-

Your lunch breaks at Santa’s Workshop feel like a luxury, because no matter how much you enjoy the job, it’s nice to get away from the rowdy children it forces you to deal with.

Unlike your job at the theater, where your breaks are staggered, the workshop closes for an hour every day, meaning that even during lunch, Steve’s stuck with you.

The sign by the line for Santa is flipped, and parents groan whenever they see the festive font saying you’ll be back in an hour.

You take the hour spent in the staff room as a time to ask him questions, what his hobbies are (“does driving a pack of 13-year-olds around count?”), if he likes his job at Scoops (“I’m starting to appreciate it more. The lesser of two evils, or something”), if he’d introduce you to Robin someday (“I’m afraid of what that might do to my sanity.”)

Today, you’re trying to tackle the subject of his Grinch-like tendencies.

“What’s your favorite Christmas movie?” You ask.

Steve doesn’t know why he continues to answer your questions whenever you throw them at him—which is often—but he does. He thinks it might be like being mean to a puppy, ignoring you. Unnecessarily cruel.

“Don’t have one.”

“Ugh. Come on, Steve! Everyone has a favorite.” You slump in your seat across from him at the small table in the break room. Steve stares at you blankly as he takes another bite of his lunch. “You can tell me.”

“I’m serious,” he says, nudging your foot with his when it comes close. “They’re cheesy.”

“Aren’t you secretly a rom-com fan?”

“How did you-”

“So, you actually enjoy cheesy movies!”

“Okay, well you don’t have to say it to the entire mall. Gosh.”

Steve wonders how you know that about him, how you’ve been able to guess a lot of things without him telling you. Briefly, just for a second, he wonders if that might mean something.

Like, if maybe you’re in his life now for a reason.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, Steve.” You smile what you hope is an honest, reassuring smile. “So, the cheesiness isn’t the root of the issue.”

“No, I guess not.”

“I’m gonna take a guess here,” you start, “and say that you’re not a fan of Christmas.”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Steve, I’ve never heard someone complain about jingle bells so much in my life.”

“We can’t all behave like we’ve been injected with sunshine.”

You don’t think he means it as a compliment, but you decide to take it as one nonetheless. But you suppose he’s right, there’s always gotta be a balance. Dark and light, happy and sad.

“Thank you,” you give him a quick grin. “And you’re avoiding the question.”

He’s silent for a moment, twisting his fork around between his fingers. “My parents never really did Christmas.”

Your heart squeezes a little in your chest at his words, at the way his tone goes quieter, at the way he looks at the table to avoid catching your eye.

Immediately, you feel guilty for prying, because the last thing you’d ever wanted to do was force him to tell you something he didn’t want to. It’s not your place, no matter how curious you are, no matter how much you’d like to give him a hug or something right about now.

It’s not your place, but you find yourself wishing it could be.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Steve.” You reach for his hand that sits on the table and give it a quick squeeze before pulling back. “You don’t have to talk about it. I shouldn’t have bugged you.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had a lot of time to accept it.” He shrugs, like it doesn’t affect him. But from the scrunch in his brows, you can tell it does, at least a little bit. “The Harringtons have better things to do than sit around cleaning up wrapping paper.”

Steve feels embarrassed, his cheeks warm and his head bent. He doesn’t like scraping this wound open, doesn’t like to think about what he was missing out on while everyone thought his life was perfect.

He especially doesn’t want you looking at him like he’s injured or something after this.

Surprisingly to Steve, you don’t. You actually do quite the opposite. You smile brightly at him, like you’ve just had an excellent idea, like you can inject a bit of your sunshine into him with it.

“How about this: I’ll teach you how great Christmas can be.”

“I think it might be a little late for that.” Steve tries to shake his admission away, to clear the room. He points at the elf hat on his head, “this outfit has ruined any last shred of hope I had.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you make a cute elf? You pull it off better than I do.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not!” Steve raises his eyebrows at you. You ignore that look. “Whatever. I cannot in good conscience, let you keep disliking Christmas. Think of how fun it could be. Plus, you owe me for all of those movies I let your children into.”

Steve already finds it difficult to say no to you, because of how kind you remain even when he’s snarky with you, because of the same kindness you seem to offer to everyone you meet.

So, even though he’s not sure what your plan entails, he sighs and says: “okay. Fine.”

“Wait, really?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

You cheer, clapping a little in your seat. “Oh my gosh, we can go skating, and go to one of those Christmas light festivals, and make cookies-”

“What did I get myself into?” Steve mutters, while you’re still rambling off ideas.

“-I’m gonna need to make a list.”

Even after your break ends, you seem to have an extra pep in your step, if that’s even possible. Your smile is a bit wider, your eyes brighter, and Steve can’t help but feel a little special for being somewhat responsible for that.

Really, what did I get myself into, he wonders.

-

In the time between him agreeing to your Christmas plans a couple of days ago and now, at yet another shift, Steve has realized that he actually likes you quite a bit. Even though your seemingly constant optimism drives him a little bit crazy.

You treat everyone with an attitude that’s so rare, he finds that his previous annoyance for you is slowly becoming overtaken by the endearment.

He won’t admit it, not when bantering with you seems to be the highlight of his days lately, but Steve is starting to be sort of grateful that he got selected for this job.

And that has absolutely nothing to do with the outfit he wears. He still fucking hates that.

“It’s alright, cutie,” he hears your voice say, all soft and understanding. He finds you, crouched down to talk to a little girl who seems to be wary of Santa. “I bet Santa will give you something extra from your list if you smile for the picture.”

The girl nods, like she’s determined. But, when you stand back up, she grabs onto your hand by your side.

“What is it?” You ask her.

“Can you do it with me?”

You look over to the girl’s mother where she stands to the side, and she nods, eager to get the picture done. So, with that, you say, “okay, then.”

Steve’s standing behind the camera as he watches you help the girl onto the bench beside Santa. Then you’re sitting beside her and telling her to look at the nice boy behind the camera.

It takes him a second to realize you’re talking about him, but when he does, he forces himself into action, bending to look through the viewfinder.

“Say cheese,” he says.

The click of the camera sounds, and then it’s done. You help the girl down, who goes over to her mom quickly and they head over to grab their picture.

Once they’re gone, the line dies down, giving you and Steve a rare pause from the pictures and overenthusiastic welcomes to ‘the North Pole.’

“I hope that family’s okay with my face in their picture,” you say, coming to stand beside Steve by the camera. “I mean, I know the mom nodded, but maybe they’ll cut me out of it.”

You’ve become more comfortable with Steve the more you’ve worked with him, getting to know him in how his grumpiness is more related to the holidays and early mornings than anything else, in how he turns the same grumpiness down when he talks to the kids.

You think he’s grown more comfortable with you, too, because he’s started bringing you a coffee in a festive cup in the morning, leaving it in your cubby without a word.

From Steve, you think that says a lot. His actions have always spoken louder than his words, you think. Like the free ice cream he gives you from Scoops, or the small nod he’d give you whenever he’d pick up the kids from a movie.

And now, there’s the small tug of his lips, the hint of a smile that has you saying, “Steve Harrington are you smiling right now?”

“Shut up,” he shakes his head at you. “That was sweet. What you did for that girl.”

Steve lets himself say what he thinks for once, because there’s nobody else around, because he wants you to hear it.

You hide your shy smile by looking down at your feet. You know that underneath everything, Steve is probably one of the best boys you’ve ever met, because even with his attitude, he’ll never say anything to truly hurt you, and with how little you know about his family, you also know that it’s rare for someone in his situation to remain so good.

Any resemblance of a compliment from Steve feels extra special, like its own gift in itself.

“Ruining her picture, you mean?” You ask, trying to cover up how you feel about him calling you sweet.

“You didn’t ruin that picture, sunshine.”

Sunshine. That’s new.

“Well I’m glad someone thinks so.”

Before Steve has the chance to respond, the line picks up again, and it’s back to business as usual. The routine click of the camera, the sound of parents telling their kids to smile nice and big.

You and Steve catching each other’s eye when a particularly entertaining family rolls around, laughing at the way he does an impression of a mom after she leaves. With work being sort of like this every day, you wish it could be Christmas all year round. You much prefer this to the theater, you think.

Steve can't say that he likes this job more than Scoops—Robin might call him traitorous—but he finds that you’d been at least a little right when you said that it would get better when he got used to things, when he hears the sound of your laugh rather than those stupid bells on his shoes.

He finds that he sometimes has to remind himself that he doesn’t like the holidays, that they aren’t like this all the time.

At the end of your shift, as you and Steve grab your stuff from the staff room, you turn to him, leaning against the wall as he shrugs on his coat.

“So, I made a list,” you say. “We are going to have the best Christmas ever, Harrington.”

“My standards are very low, so it wouldn’t take much.”

“Don’t care. I have plans. We can make gingerbread houses and get Christmas pajamas-”

“Absolutely not.”

While Steve already agreed to letting you show him Christmas your way, he thinks he can only take so much at a time. Small doses of your jolly spirit are plenty.

“Steeeve.”

“I am drawing the line. No Christmas pajamas. Not happening.”

“But the gingerbread houses are a yes?” You ask, hopeful and smiling like it’ll persuade him.

“I’ll get back to you on that one.”

That’s what Steve decides to say, instead of simply agreeing because he finds that he’d like to spend time with you outside of work, to see if you’re really so bright all the time, to see if he can soak it up a little better when he’s not dressed as a damn elf.

That’s what he decides to say because it’s easier than spilling the rest of it out there. Much, much easier.

“But you already agreed!” You pout at him a little, exaggerated dramatics on your part. “You can’t just tell me I can teach you Christmas and then back out, I mean, I made an actual bucket list. With glitter and shit.”

“Oh no, not the glitter,” Steve places a hand on his chest, sarcastically scandalized. “That makes it serious.”

You blink at him, giving him a blank look. “Don’t diss the list. By the end of it, you’re gonna be jolly as fuck, trust me.”

“Jolly as fuck,” he repeats, shaking his head on a laugh. “You’ve got a way with words, sunshine.”

“Thank you.” You push your tote bag onto your shoulder, fishing out your keys, they clink in your palm when you find them. “I’m not letting you back out of this, by the way. The list is binding.”

“Well in that case…”

You give Steve a little smile, the flash of a sunbeam, before heading out, and he’s left standing in the break room wondering what you’ve got on that list, why you seem to care so much about it.

Huffing, he supposes he’ll find out soon enough.

-

Steve definitely should not have told you that he’d never been ice skating before.

It all started when you’d been talking about that damn list at your most recent shift, a couple of days after he’d accepted the fact that he couldn’t back out of it (did he really want to?).

“Hey, you have a change of clothes in your bag, right?” You’d asked him in between families.

“Um… yeah. Why?”

“Because, Steve, our festivities begin today after work!” You clapped your hands together softly, excited and encouraging, yet delicate. “I haven’t quite decided what we’re starting with yet.”

“I thought you had a list.”

“I do! But it’s not in order,” you shrugged, “I’m more of a mood-based decision maker, anyways.”

“Of course you are,” he’d said, his usual sarcasm lighter, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

“So I’m thinking we go skating-”

“Nope.”

“You can't say no to every idea I have. Then how will you get the Christmas experience?”

“I won’t say no to everything.” You looked at him like you didn’t believe him, so, quietly, he added, “it’s just, I’ve never been skating before.”

“Steve, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” you reassured him easily, your voice honest in a sort of natural way, like you couldn't lie even if you tried. “All the more reason to give it a try. The point is to have fun, not to be good at it. I’m really not that great, myself.”

“If I hate it, we’re leaving.”

“Deal.”

And that’s how he’d ended up here, standing next to you at the rental counter at the ice rink, telling some teenager his shoe size so he could get a pair of skates.

Steve looks at you as you talk to the teenager, paying before he even gets the chance. He looks at the hat you’ve got on your head, the way your jeans are cuffed just enough to let your snowman patterned socks peek out of your boots.

He realizes that he’s only ever really seen you in uniform, at the theater and as an elf, and he thinks, quickly, like a car driving by, that you look really pretty like this. With snowflakes stuck in your eyelashes and all.

Though he’s never said it, barely let himself think it, he’s always found you pretty in a sort of undeniable way, like it was just a fact. Now, he finds you pretty in a way that makes him feel it.

His heart beats like it feels it, too. The traitor.

“Thank you,” you say, grabbing both your and Steve’s pairs of skates. You turn to him, smiling like always, Christmas lights reflected in your eyes, “ready to go?”

“As I'll ever be,” he says, letting you lead the way to the benches by the rink.

He watches the way you tie your skates, copying your movements on his own pair, double knotting the bow at the end. When you stand, he stays seated for a moment, suddenly more nervous than before, because the last thing he wants to do is embarrass himself in front of you, in front of everyone around.

Like you can read his mind, you say, “it’s okay, the first step is only standing. It looks harder than it is, promise.”

“I feel like you’re lying to make me feel better.”

“Why don’t you just stand up and find out, then?”

He rolls his eyes, more at himself than you, and pushes himself up from the bench. It takes him a second to get used to the feeling of the skates, of balancing on them, but eventually, he nods at you, eager to get it over with.

“‘Kay, so it’s gonna feel weird when you step on the ice, but you can just hold onto the side until you get the hang of it.” You start walking ahead of him, turning back to say, “I have a feeling you’ll be a natural.”

“Sure you do,” he mutters, shaking his head.

The rink is outdoors, the walls surrounded with string lights of all kinds, twinkling and colorful. In the middle, there’s a big tree, a shining gold star sat on top. There’s a hot chocolate stand to the side, the smell mingling with the freshness of the cold.

There are Christmas songs playing over the speakers (of course), and Steve thinks that if he hears one more rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock,” he’ll have to invest in a pair of ear plugs. On top of that, there’s the sound of laughter, kids with their parents, friends, couples, everyone seems to be having fun.

Everyone seems to be at ease except for him.

You step onto the rink first, skating a couple of steps forward to give Steve room to get on. He holds onto the side like you told him to, lifting a foot and stepping forward slowly, his foot slipping a little when it hits the ice.

You don’t say anything, don’t pressure him, only stand there with a kindness in your eyes that tells him you won’t be anything but patient.

Still, he doesn’t take too long to get the other foot on the ice, too, his feet carrying him forward a little bit, his hand gripping the side tighter.

“See? It’s not so bad,” you skate to his side, leaving space between you as Steve holds out his arm for balance. “Now all you gotta do is push yourself forward.”

“You make it sound like it’s easy.”

“It’s called being encouraging, Steve. Let me be encouraging!”

“Fine,” he stares down at his feet, his hair falling over his forehead. “So what do I do?”

“Use one foot to push, and then let yourself glide, switch feet, and repeat. You can do it.”

He gives it a go, and finds that it isn’t awful, but he moves slowly, and looking around at the other people skating, he’s not an impressive skater at all.

Steve has always felt the urge to be good at everything he does, basketball, driving, even fucking babysitting. He’s always tried so hard to do things well, like maybe, if he was talented enough, his parents would care more, would finally be proud of him for something.

He swallows that thought down and pushes forward again.

You follow his speed, gliding easily beside him, “look at you go!”

“I look like an idiot,” he says, his arm outstretched beside him, the other gripping the side, his knees bent.

When you look at him, though, all you see is the pink of his cheeks and nose from the cold, the way his hair brushes against his forehead, the focus in his eyes, the determination. No, you don’t think he looks like an idiot at all.

“You look like you’re trying, and that’s a great look on you, Steve.”

This time, it isn’t only the cold that pinkens his cheeks.

He doesn’t have time to muster up a reply, because the next time Steve skates ahead, he stumbles, his balance wavering until he feels your hand grabbing onto his arm to help steady him.

Then, your hand moves to hold his, and even through the layers of both of your gloves, he feels the warmth in his fingertips, some sort of tingling.

“This way, if you fall, so do I,” you say, squeezing his hand once, winking at him like the thought of falling doesn’t scare you one bit.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Super sure.”

You hadn’t been lying on that one, because eventually Steve does fall, and you fall right along with him, landing on the ice with a little, “oop!”

On his back, Steve turns his head to look at you, your hair a mess around you, some on your cheeks. He reaches out and brushes it away.

“You okay, sunshine?”

The response he gets is the sound of your laughter, a single loud cackle that has your eyes widening and a hand smacking over your mouth.

Your laughter fades into a fit of giggles, one so infectious that Steve—surrounded by all kinds of Christmas-themed things he swore he hated—laughs along with you.

And for the first time, maybe in his entire life, Steve thinks that the holidays might not be the worst thing ever.

-

Steve’s in a bad mood today, that scrunch in his brows you'd thought had been easing away back in full force.

It’s your first shift back together since you’d been skating only a couple of days ago, and you can’t help but worry that maybe it was too much, that you’d pushed him too far.

Even though, at the time, he’d been smiling more than you’ve seen him smile maybe ever, and you really thought that you had a shot at making Christmas better for him. You worry that he wasn’t as happy as he seemed, that he was pretending to have fun for your sake.

Steve, on the other hand, is actually glad to be at work for once, glad for the distraction it gives him. He’s unaware that his emotions are so visible on his face, that you think an ounce of his annoyance and anger is aimed at you.

All he knows is that after the morning he had, he needs this distraction.

This morning, it wasn’t the beep of his alarm that had woken him up, but the shrill ring of the phone on his bedside table. Groggy, with his eyes still half shut, Steve picked up the phone.

He wishes he didn’t.

“Hello?” His voice was almost a groan, scratchy from sleep, irritated at being woken up earlier than his alarm.

“Steve, sweetie!” His mother’s voice made him squint his eyes shut further. “Why do you sound so tired?”

“‘Cause it’s six in the morning, mom.”

“Oh, silly me. I forgot about time zones,” she said, though she didn’t sound the least bit apologetic. She didn’t even care enough to know what time it was for her son. “Anyways, I’m calling to let you know your father and I won’t make it home for Christmas this year. There’s this banquet we just can’t miss. You understand, don’t you?”

Steve doesn’t know why he’d been surprised, doesn’t know why her words, completely devoid of any kind of empathy towards the situation, made his stomach hurt.

“Yeah, okay,” he’d said, because it was no use to do anything but agree.

This was his normal: an almost monthly phone call from one of his parents from wherever they are in the world, no matter the time, always telling him that they’re missing this holiday, his birthday (which, at this point, he was shocked they even remembered), anything.

“That’s my boy,” she’d said, as if she knew him at all. She didn’t. Hasn’t known him—or cared to—for a long time. “I knew you’d understand.”

“Right.”

“Oh, there’s your father. Gotta go.”

And just like that, she hung up.

Steve almost wishes that they’d never call at all, because maybe then it would be easier to swallow their neglect. If they’d just forget him completely, he could get rid of that stupid, tiny sprout of hope he feels whenever they call, hoping things will be different.

At least it was his mother this time, he thinks. His father is a hundred times worse, only ever disappointed in Steve, asking about his job or when he plans on ‘getting a real life,’ never about him.

So yeah, Steve’s in a bad mood today.

The two of you don’t talk for the majority of your shift, you, afraid that Steve’s angry with you, opting to give him space, and Steve, stewing in every negative emotion that comes along with a phone call from his parents.

You don’t talk until one of the last families in line for the day comes up.

Once the kids are in place, you lean down to look through the viewfinder, counting them down and snapping the picture when they say ‘cheese.’ To the side, the children’s mom looks at you with so much judgment, Steve, even brewing in his thoughts, notices.

With the picture taken, you take the camera over to the mom, letting her see the picture the way you do with all the parents, making sure they approve.

Instead of approval, what you get is, “what the hell is that?”

You’ve dealt with your fair share of rude customers, at every job you’ve had, but this woman all but screams at you, and that’s rare. “Sorry,” you say, “I can take a new one, no problem.”

“I better be getting the new one for free with how these pictures are looking,” she practically hisses at you.

Usually, you can handle stuff like this, can smack on a smile and politely agree to get things taken care of, but today, the mixture of all your self-doubt and worrying about messing things up with Steve and this mother shouting at you, things pile up, and you feel your happy mask slipping.

“Um,” you start, voice small.

“You elves get worse every year,” she says to you. “I can’t believe people this incompetent even exist.”

Steve, hearing the whole thing, is quick to step in front of you, any thoughts about his shitty parents quickly fading in favor of helping you.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but she already offered to take another picture, and if that isn’t good for you, you’re free to leave,” Steve’s voice doesn’t slip one bit, standing his ground with every word.

You’re overwhelmed with everything going on, and when Steve turns around to look at you, nodding his head towards the staff room, you take the escape he offers you quickly, eyes blurry with tears you won’t let fall until you’re alone.

“You can’t speak to me like that!” The woman stomps her foot.

“I can, actually. She,” he points in the direction you’d gone, “is the kindest person I know, and you shouldn’t speak to her that way. I understand the holidays are a stressful time for everyone, but we spend all day helping people like you take these pictures, and the least you could do is say ‘thank you.’”

Rather than respond, the woman takes her children’s hands and stomps off.

Steve turns to find that the few families that had been in line before have decided to leave, and he takes the emptiness of Santa’s Workshop as an opportunity to follow after you.

He finds you sitting on the bench beneath your cubby in the break room, head buried in your hands, sniffling a little like you’re trying to be as quiet as possible. Steve can’t think about anything other than how much he hates seeing you upset, like a cloud covering the sun.

“Hey,” he says gently, sitting beside you on the bench. “Don’t listen to any of that. She was a bitch.”

You’re both grateful and unhappy that Steve came after you. Grateful because he’s kind, because he’s showing you that he cares. Unhappy because you’re embarrassed of him seeing you like this, because he calls you sunshine and you don’t feel like that right now.

It takes a second before you move your hands, wiping at your cheeks before turning to look at Steve, his brown eyes already on your face, unbelievably soft.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” he assures you. “She was awful to you after a long enough day. You have every right to be upset.”

“You’re being really nice,” your voice breaks a little bit, fighting any more tears that threaten to spill.

“I can be nice. I should be nicer to you.” He knows he should, but with Christmas and everything, it’s easy for him to be grouchy. “You sound surprised.”

“It’s just,” you shrug, almost defeated. “I thought you were mad at me today.”

Steve’s heart fucking aches at the sound of your voice, all small and lacking of the light he’s somehow come to like so much. And when another tear slips down your cheek, he can’t stop himself from reaching out and holding your face in his hands, thumbing the tear away lightly.

“I don’t think I could ever really be mad at you, sunshine.”

“Oh.”

His hands are warm where they hold your cheeks, a thumb still tracing back and forth over your skin. Not mad, then.

“I, uh,” Steve looks at where his thumb brushes against you, like he can’t believe it’s there, like he doesn’t want to look into your eyes for the next part. “I got a call from my mom this morning. They’re not coming home this year. Again. I shouldn’t be surprised but… anyways. That’s why I’ve been so quiet and shit today. Not because of you.”

One of your hands comes up to lay over his where it sits on your cheek, tangling your fingers with his and moving your hands down to your lap.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t take this stuff out on you just because you like Christmas and I don’t.”

You smile a little bit, a twitch of your lips, but Steve takes it as a win all the same.

“I’m gonna change that,” you say.

“Sure you will,” he replies, the sarcasm in his voice still there the way it usually is when he teases you, but this time, he’s smiling, too.

-

Steve told you to go home after that, assuring you that he’d take care of the few families left, and when you’d opened your mouth to tell him you were fine, you could stay, he’d pinned you with a look and told you again to let him do it.

So, you did.

You’d thought it would be a day at least until you’d see Steve again, but it’s only a couple of hours after your shift ends.

There’s a knock at your door, your apartment one of the ones built above a shop on Main Street, and even though you have no idea who it could be, you get up, sock-covered feet padding against the floor as you go over to answer it.

You’re surprised to find Steve on the other side—one, because you don’t think you’ve ever told him where you live, and two, because you didn’t think he’d want to see you more today than he already had—a bag in his hand and a shy sort of question on his face.

“Steve? What are you doing here?”

He scratches at the back of his neck with his free hand before responding, a nervous gesture that he hasn’t been able to get rid of. “I thought that maybe, after the day you’ve had, you could use some cheering up. I could, too.”

You remember him telling you about the phone call from his parents, and something in your stomach flutters a little when you realize that his plans to cheer up involve you of all people.

“Okay.” You smile, you can’t really help it, “come in, then.”

He does, closing the door behind him and toeing off his shoes before stepping inside any further. Steve spots your kitchen table easily, and moves to set the bag he’s holding down.

“I thought we could do another thing that might be on your list,” he says. Steve tugs things out of the bag, gingerbread house kits, to be exact. “Gingerbread houses are Christmas bucket list worthy, right?”

“Absolutely,” you search his face, a little confused because last you heard, Steve was not into your whole bucket list thing, but here he is. “And you’re doing this… voluntarily?”

“I have the receipt. I can return them, if you prefer.”

“No! Don’t do that. I just mean- I thought you didn’t like Christmas or my list and that you were just playing along to be nice.”

“I might not be the biggest fan of Christmas, but,” he shrugs, opening one of the boxes of gingerbread, “you’re a good teacher, sunshine.”

You resist the urge to pinch yourself, like you might be dreaming because Steve, who you’ve grown to like an embarrassing amount, is here, offering to do this with you and giving you a compliment like it’s nothing.

When you respond, you hope your voice doesn’t give away how you really feel. Excited, happy, your heart jumping. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Shut up.” He shakes his head, pointing to the unopened box, “now will you come build this gingerbread house or what?”

“Mine’s gonna be way prettier than yours.”

Steve simply rolls his eyes, but there’s the hint of a smile there, too. He’s happy to see that your light is back, that you didn’t let what happened at work get to you too much.

You sit down beside each other at your table, gingerbread kits laid out in front of you. Icing and sprinkles, a cookie roof and chimney. You’re sure it’ll leave a mess, but right now you don’t mind.

There’s a sort of lightness in the air, the knowledge that this thing—friendship, more, whatever it is—between the two of you is something that you’re both happy to bask in. It’s unspoken, and that doesn’t bother you.

You and Steve start by unpacking all of the pieces, yours laid out neatly, his in a leaning pile that makes you bite back a laugh.

“The fucking roof won’t stay on,” Steve says once you’ve both started to put the houses together, and he sounds genuinely annoyed about it.

“Just put some more icing on it,” you say, “there’s no such thing as too much.”

“I don’t think icing will save me now, sunshine.”

You look away from your own gingerbread house over to Steve’s. His hands are holding the roof up, pushing them together so they meet at the top, and he’s staring at the thing with so much determination that you can’t help but giggle.

“You laughing at me?” Steve quirks a brow at you, but there’s a shine in his eyes. They smile even when his mouth doesn’t.

“I can’t believe you’re taking this so seriously,” you laugh, and that smile of his spreads slowly on Steve’s face, blooming like a flower. “It’s alright to admit defeat, Steve. My house is already better than yours.”

“Woah, this isn’t over yet, alright? Mine just needs time, don’t you worry.”

“Whatever you say, Steve.”

“Someone’s feeling brave tonight,” he teases, nudging you with his elbow without letting go of the roof of his house. “Don’t speak too soon, sunshine. I could be the underdog here.”

You lean over with your icing bag in hand, piping some more into the gap in Steve’s roof. “Here, let me help.”

Steve—always reluctant to accept help of any kind, even the smallest things—lets you. While he watches your face as you pipe the icing, the focus, the way your tongue pokes out from between your lips, you take his distraction as an opportunity to move, letting your icing fall onto his hand instead of the house.

“Oops,” you shrug, your tone suggesting that it wasn’t a mistake at all.

Steve gasps overdramatically, then leans closer to you, “Oh, looks like you’ve got something right there.” His hand reaches for your face, and he spreads the icing from it onto your cheek.

“You’re done for, Harrington.”

He only laughs, bright and quick.

Before you know it, you’re having some sort of food fight, putting a dot of icing on Steve’s nose, him tossing sprinkles at you. It’s a mess, but all you can hear is Steve’s laughter, all you can see is his smile. Unguarded for once, free and genuine.

By the time it dies down, there’s stripes of icing on your cheeks, red and green sprinkles scattered about the floor and on the table, and Steve’s got his own patches of icing to deal with.

“You better help me clean this, Harrington,” you say, your giggles still spilling, fizzling out softly. “What are we gonna decorate these houses with now?”

“Mine’s a lost cause,” he admits, the pieces now in a pile the way they’d started.

“So I won, is what I’m hearing.”

Steve looks at you, at the sparkle in your eyes that had been dimmed earlier at work, at the smile that spreads across your face when his eyes meet yours. Fuck. He thinks you’re completely beautiful, icing across your face and all.

His gaze snags on a piece of green in your hair, and before he can think about it, he reaches up and tugs it out for you.

“Sprinkle,” he says.

You look at his hands, messy from the gingerbread houses but never any less strong, and you remember how they felt in yours when you’d been skating. And when you flick your eyes back to his face, he’s already looking at you, gaze dipping to your mouth quickly, like he can’t help it.

And shit, you think. You really, really like this boy.

Before either of you can say anything more, you’re leaning towards each other, meeting in the middle and you’re not sure if you kiss him or he kisses you, but you end up with your mouths pressed together.

It’s featherlight at first, testing the waters. Then, Steve’s hands cup your jaw gently and pull you back to him, and you wouldn’t dream of doing anything but follow.

He kisses you again, still soft somehow, but more certain, his lips dancing with yours like you’ve done this a hundred times before.

You reach up and grasp his wrists in your hands, feeling his pulse under your thumbs. His heart is racing just as much as yours, you notice. Like your heartbeats have synced to a twin pattern, like this kiss was enough to do that.

And while you’re not sure what will happen after this, you know that something has shifted, that both of you are saying things you’re too afraid to say out loud.

When he pulls back, Steve presses one, two more pecks to your mouth, his thumbs tracing over your skin so lightly you might’ve dreamt it.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever think about kissing the same way after you. Steve feels warm the way he does when the sun beams on him in summer, and quickly, he thinks, I could get used to this feeling.

Then, he gets up and finds a small towel in one of the drawers by your sink, wetting it with warm water before coming back to sit with you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, using a finger to tilt your chin up, swiping the towel over your cheeks to get rid of the icing there as lightly as he can.

And that’s that.

-

December twenty-fourth is your last day at Santa’s Workshop. Christmas Eve snuck up quick, and tomorrow, the twenty-fifth, the mall will be closed.

You’ve always enjoyed the job, but this year’s been your favorite by far. Usually, you and your coworkers would get along just fine, talking during shifts and laughing but never expanding outside of work, but it’s completely different with Steve.

He knocked on your door with gingerbread houses in hand and kissed you like it meant something. You like him so much that it’s in your bones, this feeling he brings out of you, how special you feel when you think about the trust he’s shown you.

But looking back, you think you were screwed from the start. From his scrunched brows asking you if the bells on the elf shoes were really necessary, to confiding in you about his parents, that list you made that seemed to be the beginning of what things have grown into now.

Green elf hat lopsided on his head, Steve smiles at you from where he stands by the camera. You smile back without thinking, like it’s natural, an instinct.

“Alright,” he says, talking to the kids sitting on the bench with Santa. “Everyone say ‘cheese’ on three. One, two-”

“Cheese!”

The camera clicks, and then it’s onto the next, the system you and Steve have created moving along smoothly, family after family.

If someone told Steve when he’d started this job, grouchy and prepared to pout about it every day, that he’d grow to like it, that he’s realized he’ll miss it when it’s gone, he would’ve laughed in their faces.

Never in a million years did Steve think he’d come remotely close to enjoying being an elf, but he has (he still fucking hates the outfit, though). You have everything to do with his surprising not-so-hatred of the job, of his careful fondness growing towards the holidays.

It’s all because of you.

Christmas Eve is a busy day at Starcourt mall, parents rushing about for last minute presents, teenagers taking advantage of holiday sales, and families lined up for their Santa pictures they’d forgotten about until now.

You don’t get breaks between families often today, but once you do, you and Steve are next to each other, making imaginary backstories for random people that pass by, dramatically reading lips of conversations.

The next time there’s an opening, you walk over to Steve, holding up your fist as if there’s a microphone in it. “So, Steve, tell me, how does it feel to have survived December as a Christmas elf?”

“I feel like I should get an award, maybe,” he says into your fake microphone. “I’ve gotten two rashes from this scratchy outfit. Two! And I’ll never hear jingle bells the same again.”

You laugh before clearing your throat and getting back into your news anchor character, “wow. You heard it here folks, North Pole outfits are not luxurious.”

“No, they are not.”

Steve can’t help but grin as he looks at you, as he jokes around with you so easily it feels like he’s known you for years instead of a month. He supposes he has known you longer, but never the way he does now.

“Now, will you be returning to Santa’s Workshop in future Decembers, mister Harrington?”

“Well, that depends,” he says. “I think I’ll require a certain presence to be with me if I come back. Can’t survive it without my doses of sunshine.”

My doses of sunshine.

You’ve never reacted to words the way you do with Steve, but when he says things like that, how can you not react? He compliments you in these indirect ways that only you could understand, and this secret language of yours has your heart skipping, your world tinted-pink.

That one makes you break character, “really?”

“Really.”

Looking up at him, at those soft, melting brown eyes that have always told you more than anything else about him, at the fondness in them, you think about that kiss.

You haven’t spoken about it, but you haven’t felt the need to. It meant something, you know that much, and by the way Steve sneaks touches—a squeeze of your hand, a palm on your back—he does, too.

“You make Christmas better,” he tells you.

He leaves you with that as the next family walks up for their picture, but you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you, his gaze spreading sparkles over your skin.

It’s hard to focus when all you can think about is him calling you sunshine in that soft voice of his he’s only used when you’re alone, but you have to, so it’s back to work you go.

You don’t get to speak much again until your shift is over, the Christmas Eve evening rush swooping in and keeping you both busy.

It’s bittersweet, walking to the back room for the last time from Santa’s Workshop. You’re excited for tomorrow, because it’s Christmas and it’s one of your favorite days of the year, but it’s hitting you now how much you’ll miss seeing Steve nearly every day.

You’ll still see him, of course you will. Whether it’s him getting you to help sneak kids into a movie or maybe something more, something for just the two of you. Either way, you’re at least sure of one thing: Steve Harrington is one of the best people you know.

He’s the first to speak as you step into the staff room. “I have something for you,” he says.

Steve scratches the back of his neck, the smallest hint of pink on his cheeks. He’s nervous, and it’s the sweetest thing. He reaches into his bag, pulling out a small box, a white ribbon tied in a bow around it, a little lopsided, like he’d tied it himself.

You take it from him, smiling down at the box, because no matter what’s in it, he cared enough to get you a gift and that’s what matters, that’s what you’ll hold onto.

“Really?”

“Open it, please.”

You listen, tugging the ribbon loose and opening up the small box. Inside, you find a delicate chain, the pendant in the shape of the sun.

“Steve.” It comes out in a breath, your eyes welling the tiniest bit because this is the best gift you’ve ever received. He’s a gift himself, looking at you shyly, searching your face for a reaction.

“Do you like it?” He asks, his voice soft. “If it’s too much I can-”

“It’s perfect,” you say, and you mean it. “Put it on for me?”

He flashes you a grin, the corners of his mouth tugging up as he nods and takes the necklace from you, undoing the clasp as you turn around and move your hair out of the way.

You can feel his warmth against your back as he drapes the necklace over your collar, his fingers brushing the back of your neck as he fiddles with the clasp.

“There you go,” he says, taking a small step back to give you room to spin back around to face him.

You look down at the sun pendant sitting against your skin, touching it lightly. Steve’s actions speak volumes, and this one makes you feel so many things. But above it all, you feel like his.

He watches your face as you look at the necklace, the slope of your nose and the softness of your cheeks. The flutter of your lashes and the smile you don’t even try to hide. He’s been resisting the urge to kiss you since he’d done it the first time, but it’s stronger than ever now, with his present around your neck.

Your eyes meet when you look back up at him, his brown ones never failing to show how he feels, and your heart skips with how he looks at you. Like he cares, like he doesn’t intend on stopping.

He brushes your hair over your shoulder, fingertips gentle as ever when they brush against the side of your neck.

“I love it, Steve, really. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sunshine.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, I didn’t expect-”

“Hey,” he cuts you off, his hand shifting to hold yours, fingers lacing with yours easily, “you’ve given me so much.”

Steve doesn’t know how he got lucky enough to get paired with you for this job, how he got lucky enough to have someone look past his slight grumpiness and really see him. You’ve given him Christmas as a whole, erasing bad memories, replacing them with new ones, and he doesn’t think any present could repay you for that.

“Oh wait!” You squeeze his hand before letting go and heading towards your bag, digging until you find what you’d been looking for. You hand Steve a folded piece of paper, “you should have this.”

As he unfolds it, he realizes it’s the bucket list you’d made for him what feels like forever ago, glitter and all. There are activities with check marks beside them, the ones you’d completed, and he shakes his head with the smile he seems to only wear when you’re around.

Very last on the list, your handwriting spells out words that make his chest feel light, his heart full.

‘Make next Christmas just as good.’

Steve finally stops holding himself back and kisses you for the second time, and you’re both certain it won’t be the last.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed, please please consider leaving a reblog or comment and let me know what you think! it would mean a bunch <3

[freakassfemme]

MWAH wishing u a speedy recovery!!!!! listen u always do my requests sm justice YOU JUST GET IT, i will always crawl back into ur askbox i am patiently waiting while kicking my feet :3

original ask YOU ARE SO SWEET! I appreciate you. here u go, i have brought you a gift <3 unfortunately my only explanation to 'getting it' is that I am always having or striving to have filthy nasty lesbian and queer interactions. or I am writing or reading about it. my sole purpose on this earth is to curate queer experiences. hope that helps <3 btw I wrote this from 6 - 9 am so bare with me wc: 2.9k warnings: metaphorically consuming each other as a form of desire, yeah I know I switched present/past tense its a bad habit of mine but I *don't care* nor do I care about consistent capitalization, I'm crazy for this woman obviously, rough sex, f/f, vagina/breast anatomy, biting, overstimulation, crying, maybe I get a little too poetic about gay sex, proof read by only me one singular time and it was mainly to see if the music fit the vibe, penetration, scissoring, I love pussy, orgasm denial x1 (?), slight size kink and worship but really that's in all my fics

see how it shines [smut] ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ

playlist: it will come back / be / abstract (psychopomp)

(yeah we r bringing hozier into this </3)

eighteen fucking hours. that's how long you'd been clocked in at the medical bay for what seemed to have been maybe the third or fourth time this week, and it was only Thursday.

the truth was, medics and doctors were dropping like flies these days, going AWOL and leaving the remaining staff to work what would need twenty sets of hands with maybe seven or eight. with the seraphites becoming more aggressive everyday, the peace in the stadium and other bases for the WLF had been short-lived, and many understandably weren't holding up well to the pressure, especially with the way the cleanup crews had been hauling back nonstop truckloads of friends and loved ones, and requests to be stationed elsewhere other than the stadium and two were immediately denied at this point.

so yeah, you were pretty fucking tired. at this point in the staffing shortage, they were having to send the folks on watch on additional rounds just to bring food to medics, on duty or at home, because they were simply too exhausted to go down to dining.

no one even acknowledged you as your blood and mud-ridden boots skidded across the concrete floors, your eyes practically closed even as you walked through crowds to get back to your dorm. the soldiers, civilians and staff alike parted like water around you, making an avoidant path and trying not too hard to look at you or the posters on the wall, outright begging people to sign up for medical classes.

you kicked the food delivery box inside of your dorm as you unlocked it, hands fumbling with your forehead pressed against the cold metal. inside, you quickly stripped out of your uniform top and boots, and crashed out on the couch.

abby herself was exhausted when she trudged into your shared living space hours after you, having just come off of a 48 hour rotation. her eyes wandered over the little trail of belongings leading to you on the couch, the boots left a few steps after the other, your button up discarded over the railing and the abandoned delivery box just a few feet from the door, which she didn't notice until she nearly slipped over it, causing a loud thump that had her wincing.

her eyes flicked to you, where she could only see the back of your head, and when she decided you weren't going to stir, she let out a sigh of relief and began stripping herself of her own uniform.

on her way over to the bathroom, she stopped next to you, taking in your splayed out form. your hair was a fucking mess, and you still had drops of (hopefully) someone else's blood across your forearms, one thrown against the back of the couch and the other hanging over the side. your pants were halfway undone, like you had tried an attempt that you decided wasn't worth the energy, and you looked pale as a ghost.

as much as abby wanted to let you sleep, wanted to let you get the rest you needed, she couldn't leave you like this. it'd been at least three days since she last saw you for more than a fleeting lunch break, and she couldn't find it in her to take care of herself and not you, especially when you had been eating away at yourself providing the undying care to strangers who wouldn't want to return it even in several lifetimes.

she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before she nodded, crouching down and grunting from the soreness of her own body as she scooped you up.

when you groaned and gave a small shove back, she hushed you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"c'mon, sweet girl, it's just me. i got you."

you hadn't put up much of a fight when abby propped you up on the sink. you leaned the back of your head against the mirror as she shimmied your pants and socks off of you, stripping your shirt and undergarments next until your cold skin was left against the glass and stainless steel, and you began to shudder. abby was quick about turning up the hot water in the shower though, allowing the steam fill the room before she helped you to your feet, letting you lean against her and whisper weak protests as you climbed into the hot shower.

instantly, you relaxed against her, and she ran her fingers through your hair, fully saturating the dirty strands as you sighed, wrapping your arms around her firm waist to steady yourself.

you stayed like that for a while, pressed against your girlfriend's tone form as you slowly collected your own strength, letting her gentle hands and soft voice lull you back from your weak state until you could help her wash you both up, even if it took a bit longer than usual.

"lean your head forward f'me, angel," abby murmured, one of her large palms warming up your spine with gentle caresses as she held a half-formed braid of your hair in the other. you obeyed quietly, letting abby tie back your now managed hair into something similar to how she usually kept hers, though she left her own loose.

when she was done, abby shifted closer behind you in the bed, her arms slipping underneath your borrowed shirt to hold you against her. she buried her face into your neck, letting you curl into her until you were turned on your side and entirely wrapped in her strong arms.

her nose nudged yours, and your eyes weakly fluttered open to meet abby's soft gaze, her seafoam eyes almost hauntingly bright against the cool illumination of the moonlit windows. it spooked you a bit, in all honesty, to have her this close to you again after so many days, days where you had considered the other possibilities in which she may come back to you.

you weren't any less unnerving to her -- she could tell you hadn't been eating nearly enough since she had been gone, and in just a few short days you already looked withered enough to drop like a limp daisy. your skin was ghostly, its usual warmth dampened from a lack of sunlight.

still, she was your girl, and you were hers, even in your worn states. and god, she had missed you.

abby's pine soap filled your nose as she pressed her lips into yours, the warm skin hesitant under your cool, cracked ones, and you accepted her gratefully, even if just for a moment it was as useless as whiskey on a winter night.

but then, of course, like any decent drink, the buzz hits.

and even though your limbs are screaming against you as you do so, your fingers curl into abby's loose hair, and you turn your head just a bit more. when you kiss back, abby's shyness, her gentleness quickly melts away, replenished by a hunger matching your own as you desperately search for more of her, pulling her against you like you hoped to swallow her whole.

your teeth crashed against her soft skin, tugging at her lip and making a slot for your tongue to force its way into her mouth. instantly, she shuddered, groaning into you in a way that you could feel the vibrations in her chest. it was like an open invitation, a warm meal laid out just for you, and you accepted it greedily.

you pulled abby on top of you by her hair, whining back when she moaned against your lips again. her own hand snaked up your body, squeezing at your thighs and hips as she fell on top of you, then pushing your oversized shirt over your chest, exposing your chest and making a clear pathway for herself. still, as starving as she was, she tried to take her time with you, wrapping her fingers around your jaw to hold you in place, and only stiffening up when you parted your legs, wrapping them around her and shoving your bare cunt against her firm stomach.

"wait," she whispered against your lips, "wait f'me, baby. let me have some."

you whine and protest as abby's strong arm holds you down by your throat, her other coming down to pin your fighting, impatient wrists to your stomach.

"baby, baby please," you're crying between broken moans as her tongue runs up your neck, stopping just so you can feel her heavy breathing against the shell of your ear when she slowly begins to work her hips against yours, the fabric of her boxers smearing your arousal across her thighs.

"fuck, baby I know," she groans, and if it wasn't for the way she gritted her teeth, you'd think she was annoyed rather than desperately holding herself together.

"abby, I --"

abby's hand on your jaw slips up some so she can shove two of her fingers in your mouth, and she lets out a stupid, desperate moan when she feels you choke around them for a second. then your eyes roll back just when she looks up, checking on her little angel, and she can't help but grunt louder, slamming her hips into your core in a way that makes you keen and your back arch, your smaller fists squeezing underneath her grip.

"god, shut up," she's practically begging as her hips rut into you. "please just, fuck, be quiet for a second, shit -"

she buries her face in your neck again, trying to satiate herself and regain some of her sanity, but your legs are now locked around her, pulling her against you in a way that has her clit brushing deliciously against the seam of her boxers. her head spins every time, and she lets out broken whines as she feels herself already tipping dangerously towards that edge as your body fights to consume her.

and god, it's torture for her, but for you, you just can't get enough. your fucking beast of a girlfriend trying so futilely to hold it together from just this stupid game of dry humping, when you're so, so willing to give her so much more.

let me have you, let me have you, you're chanting in your mind, your ankles pushing at the hem of abby's boxers.

you swallow around her fingers, and that seems to do it for her, granting you some edge as her other hand releases your wrists and flies to the side to hold herself up as her back arches against you with a loud groan.

your hands rush on to her back, your nails finding purchase just below her shoulder blades and ripping down the muscle until her fingers tear from your throat to slam against the bed and she stifles a cry by biting down on the base of your neck so hard that for a moment, you're worried she might draw blood.

"fuck," you rasp out against the pressure.

abby's shaking in your arms, moaning between the prettiest sobs as she gives in. she's pliant when your hands slip down to grab at her ass, and she lifts her hips to help you slip her boxers off, kicking them behind her.

she leans back, her blonde hair dripping onto your exposed tits. the cold water makes you shudder, and you let abby shove her bare cunt between your legs and slotting one thigh over you.

your lips fall in a open-mouthed gasp and she swears as her entrance rocks against your throbbing clit, one of her hands coming down to steady your hips and the other to hold her shirt up over her stomach so she can see the way you're making a mess of her thighs.

she stays there for a minute, brutalizing your bundle of nerves for her own pleasure. your head falls against the mattress, and you let out ridiculous whines, your hands fisting and slamming against the sheets below you, even coming up to claw at her strong thighs that kept you pinned so tightly in place.

"fuck, fuck, 's too much," you're choking out, and now it's your turn for the waterworks while abby only chuckles, laughing breathlessly as she presses down harder.

"no, no baby," she coos between her own moans, running her tongue over her teeth as she shudders. She slips her hips down some until you're fully rutting against each other again, the sheer wetness making it that much more difficult for your brain to process. "'s not, sweetheart, you can take it. i know you can baby."

you shake your head, and abby rolls her eyes, quickening her pace until your cheeks rouge and your whining grows. your hips twitch beneath her, uncontrollably bucking up to kiss her pussy again and again and again despite your pleas.

"what's wrong?" she purrs, her hand coming from your hips to run itself down from your neck, to your chest, to the back of your thigh. "thought you wanted it, thought you were begging for it, baby."

you whine again, shivering under her touch as she leans down, her mouth capturing the meat of your thigh as she rocks against you. she bites harder with each push and pull, and your tired body can't take it. it's too easy to get worked up for her like this.

"abs, ohmygod, stop, 'm gonna-"

abby's all to keen, knows exactly what you're going to say before you can even finish your sentence.

"shit, fuck, no you're not," abby grunts, ripping away from you in an instant.

your arched back hits the mattress with a full on sob, and you can feel your unsatisfied arousal leaking onto the sheets, the sickness between your thighs and on your stomach, the smell of abby, abby, abbyabbyabby until you jolt back up, letting out a small cry at the sudden impact against your clit.

she does it again and again, slapping your swollen cunt until your body is on the verge of cumming just from this. you're already so pent up, so touch-starved that you'd probably cum just from her biting you again, and she knows it, knows you're both like that right now.

your arms prop you up as one of her hands holds open your parted thighs, and her lips are consuming yours again as she growls with every spasm and whine she pulls from you. she doesn't stop until she really thinks you might burst, when you're starting to lift your hips for more instead of trying to hide away.

"god, you're filthy, baby," she groans against your mouth, and you only nod dumbly, knees shaking as you try to catch your breath. she's kneeling between your legs, ready to worship her sweet slice of heaven, ready to piece you back together.

abby's hand comes down gently this time, just the tip of her middle finger tracing over the mess between your legs until she's prodding it against your entrance so delicately that your brain nearly short-circuits.

she looks back up at you, her chest heaving from some sort of late-onset restraint and with such devotion filling her dilated eyes that you almost can't move, can't breathe. her eyes rake over you, holding every detail for an extra moment to commit it to memory, and when it's clear you're too awestruck by her, too overwhelmed by the sight of her poised in reverence, she speaks for you.

"gonna let me in, pretty girl?" abby asks, the words dripping off of her tongue like a velvety chocolate. you nod stupidly, your head bobbing in a way that's a little too eager, but she doesn't say anything about it.

instead, she hums, licking her lips as she wraps a hand around your head, pulling you so that her nose bumps against yours. abby presses her lips against yours, and one of your hands shakes as it finds its way up to grasp at her bicep. she's much more gentle this time, much more cautious as the tip of her finger begins to delve inside.

you pull away from her lips with a gasp when she intrudes, turning your face to hide it in your shoulder. you can't help but squeeze around the single digit, your knees already trembling.

"uh-uh," she tsks softly, her raspy voice echoing against your ear. she kisses your temple, and her hand slides down some to turn your face back towards her.

"let me see you," she whispers, sucking in a gasp as she pushes her finger farther into you, curving her palm to fit snugly against you.

your eyes flutter up to hers, almost shyly as you feel your ears burn and your eyes threaten to water as she holds your gaze. she nods when you do, curling her finger inside of you as she praises you, the ridges of your walls clinging to her finger so tightly that she's taking small, shallow breaths now.

"that's it," she murmurs, holding your head in place so you have to look at her. "that's my girl."

you let out a small whimper, the embarrassment running straight to your core as she begins to work her finger in and out, guiding it further each time until the base of her thumb glides over your clit. when it does, she groans, and can't help but push her hand harder against you until she's practically shoving you into the mattress and you swear you can feel her in your throat.

stars flutter around the blurry edges of the halo that is her golden hair, and the tears in your eyes begin to slip again between the way she's carving a god damn signature inside of you and how she's holding you so tightly against her.

you open your mouth, trying to speak but hopelessly interrupted by a mixed sob and moan. she chuckles softly, but it's tender and sweet, and she nods, brushing her thumb over your temple.

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

[love-belle]

this is how you fall in love !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they were best friends but they were so much more than that.

or

for when you fall in love with your best friend. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lando norris x fem!reader

warnings - language

author’s note - literally falling asleep as im writing this hope u like it i love u thank u

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, yourusername and 986,628 others

landonorris oh ur in her dms? well she's doing her british accent in front of me

tagged yourusername

11,628 comments

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-> landonorris no it's fine i love listening to u

-> username and i am dead

-> username lando saw that tweet about "no rizz" title and decided to pull the big guns out

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes and 991,628 others

yourusername r u done pretending like i'm not the love of your life

tagged landonorris

13,728 comments

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landonorris goodnight to my girlfriend and my girlfriend only

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-> charles_leclerc blocked and reported.

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*liked by landonorris*

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[thecapricunt1616]

Papaya (c.b one-shot)

Part one here

Blurb (More BTC!) : He knew you were that out of your mind, when he pushed his way through the house, shouting “Squish? SQUISH!” Over the music as well as he could and he found you being basically fucking molested by some meathead that had a good 6 inches and 75 pounds on him. The sight made him so enraged, it made him see red so quickly, it made him black out in anger. He came to again a few moments later after he uppercut the guy so hard he fell back on his ass, and then punched him in the face so hard that his nose started bleeding.  “Bear?” You said confused 

“See the fucking cup, asshole?” He seethed, everyone was watching now as he dumped the remainder of your icy drink on him and crushed it before throwing it at his shocked face “ the blue cup means she’s taken”

♡ One-shot inspo: Papaya is associated with femininity & strengthening love connections. Hang twigs of papaya wood over a door to keep out evil. Eat papaya with a loved one to intensify your love. Mix papaya leaves with mandrake and burn or use in the bath to reverse hexes and jinxes. ♡ Summary: You & Carmys first time, F/U to 'Very First Time'♡ W/C: 4.7k ♡ A/N: EEEE It's here! The first was recieved so well, & my sweet @carmenberzattosgf requested a part 2 as well as this sweet anon, so I had to indulge! I hope it is everything you wanted <3 Who's ready for some sexy sexy Carmy tomorrow!? I know I am!!! I can't believe this is my last piece before the drought is over...It has gone so freaking fast!!! I can't wait to meet all the new fans that this season brings <3 :) (P.S. If you were tagged, it's BC you asked for a part 2 or are my moot!! <3) P.S - Tumblr was really trying to get me to commit murder while formatting this JFC ♡ Warnings for BTC: SMUT SMUT SMUT, College relationship, childhood best friend trope, virgin!carmy, Fem!/AFAB!Reader, R has long hair, No use of Y/N (r goes by childhood nickname 'squish' ), Drunk men being pervy, Physical violence, Angry Carmy

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You stumbled into the nearest vacant bathroom (with your drink in hand of course) as Miley Cyrus’ We Can’t Stop bumps through the speakers of the frat house so loudly that the floors shook. 

The amount of stinky sweaty bodies and drunk people making out in various corners of the hallway would usually get to you if you weren’t so out of your mind. You weren’t exactly sure which drink you were on yet, but you did know that when your best friend Paisley had challenged you to a keg standoff and you weren’t a quitter, so you couldn’t count just how many beers you had chugged. 

You tried to count on your fingers as you hovered above the nasty toilet seat to pee just exactly how many red solo cups of mostly liquor with a bit of mixer you had consumed. You were distracted by that nasty toilet seat, wondering how the boys that live here don’t gag whenever they come to pee. You were happy that Carmy wasn’t in a frat. You were really happy that Carmy wasn’t in a frat, the guys here were assholes. Most of them, anyway. 

You grabbed your blue cup, that insinuated you were taken or dating someone steady, out with you back into the hot sticky living room, to hear someone (probably paisley, it had to have been paisley or one of your other sorority sisters) had requested they play Girls by The 1975, you tried finding her but got distracted by hands on your waist and “I love your shirt” in your ear. It was a voice you didn’t recognize, you could tell the man towered over you by the way he had to hunch over to talk to you. 

Carmy was bigger then you, but not that much bigger, this guy would probably have a head on Carmy. He had grown just like Mike said he would, and it looked amazing on him. Funnily enough though, even though you had been dating since the week you graduated high school - and you were now juniors in college, he still hadn’t slept with you yet. You often after you left his house to head back to your sorority house since they had a curfew, would cry to your sorority about how he still only wants to do oral. 

He didn’t often want blowjobs unless it was a special occasion, he would tell you your hand is fine and you don’t have to do ‘all that’ even though you wanted to- you figured since he was saying that he didn’t want you to. You weren’t aware - but Carmy was kicking himself in the ass every single day that he hasn’t fucked you the way you deserve yet. He was honestly getting worried he was going to lose you to some guy who would. You had asked him, he had told you that he wasn’t ready to go that far with you yet, that he wanted to wait and make it special. 

But in all reality he was terrified out of his mind. He knew he could make you cum with his mouth, but his dick?! He had to dig his nails into his palms until they near drew blood whenever you put your fucking mouth on him, so if you let him fuck your cunt?! He was worried he was going to cum in 3 strokes and you would laugh and break up with him and tell him you were better off best friends and there goes his only friend and the love of his life and the person he wants to marry. But he found himself asking as he fantasized about marrying you how he was supposed to do that if he can’t even find the balls to fuck you right. 

His anxiety was what led him to calling you 3 times tonight, because you were late - and you were never late - because the two of you wanted to spend as much time as possible together since his schedule was so packed between working at the beef and going to classes part time. He was nowhere near graduating, that was because he was stacking his money away in a savings account that gained interest like Uncle Jimmy taught him, so that his graduation present to you could be the Chicago brownstone you both had talked about having together since high school. 

He found it so incredibly sexy and endearing that you put school first in your life, he wanted to reward you for it. He felt you deserved the world and more, since you were his world. Which is why, after the third nervous stuttering voicemail which is how you could tell he was really nervous, had gone unanswered? He opened the find my friends app and grabbed his brothers keys. 

“Mike I’m going…out!” He called and shut the front door before he could get questions about why the hell he of all people would be leaving the house past 10:00 on a Friday night. He anxiously mapped the location on his phone and hopped in the car. When he got there, though- he couldn’t even park near the house. He had to park a block over and walk because it was so packed with cars. He made sure to lock the car in case any drunkards were to try and sleep in it or think it was there’s, and put on the walking directions. 

Carmen had to deal with drunk behavior well - every night, so being with a bunch of drunk people wasn’t his favorite place to be - but for you he persevered, because what the hell were you doing here. 

You, currently, were inside, grinding on the same guy that had come up to you to Mirrors by Justin Timberlake. You had finished another drink, and forgotten completely it wasn’t your boyfriend behind you - and didn’t even have the mind to ask yourself what he would be doing there. Said boyfriend was currently pushing his way through the kitchen, and rolling his eyes and the ‘single, taken, DTF’ different colored cups on the counter as he tried to find you. 

He knew you were that out of your mind, when he pushed his way through the house, shouting “Squish? SQUISH!” Over the music as well as he could and he found you being basically fucking molested by some meathead that had a good 6 inches and 75 pounds on him. The sight made him so enraged, it made him see red so quickly, it made him black out in anger. He came to again a few moments later after he uppercut the guy so hard he fell back on his ass, and then punched him in the face so hard that his nose started bleeding. 

“Bear?” You said confused 

“See the fucking cup, asshole?” He seethed, everyone was watching now as he dumped the remainder of your icy drink on him and crushed it before throwing it at his shocked face “the blue cup means she’s taken” 

He grabbed your arm gently “squish y’wasted. We're going home” he said firmly but not mean, and you stumbled next to him as people move out of the way since the entire room was privy to what just happened. You weren’t sure what happened all you knew was the man was behind you and then he wasn’t and then carmy was punching him and now you were in the car and Carmy was lecturing you about how worried he was. 

“He could have hurt you, angel. Please- I know it’s college and you can do what you want but I love you and those guys are all assholes, they’ll take advantage of nice girls the second they get a chance. And you’re so sweet squish, you’re too sweet. They don’t deserve to have you over” he squeezed your hand and brought it to his lips for what he knew was probably the hundredth time in the 35 minute car ride back to his house. 

You didn’t say much of anything that could make sense, but he agreed with you anyway. “And theee um. The the- what was I saying?” You look over at him at a red light with a drunk smile, your eyes glazed over from all the alcohol and cheeks hot with the rush of it in your system. 

“I dunno baby but you look cute” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead gently 

“Your knuckles are bleeding, did you hurt them?” You asked, the events from less than an hour prior already having been wiped from your mind. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head 

“M’fine squish, you need some water” he helped you out of the car, supporting most of your weight as you stumbled up the stairs of the Berzatto house, and he unlocked the door. 

“Ooooo you know what I want?” You asked and he smiled as he locked the door behind him and lead you to the kitchen 

“What’s that honey?” He helps you sit down at the table and grabs a glass, filling it with ice water 

“I want a bear special beef sandwich. Pretty please?” He came over and handed you the glass 

“Drink that and we’ll talk about it” he said and you obediently chugged down the glass as he went back to the fridge and got out the beef they didn’t use today at the restaurant and a pan to heat it in 

“This is good” you said, finishing it off and crunching on a piece of ice to which he cringed 

“Ugh y’teeth babe don’t do that!” He scolded as he always did when you munched on ice, taking it from you and filling it again, adding a straw before giving it back so you were less tempted to repeat your actions

He was cutting up a bell pepper for your sandwich when you asked “why won’t you have sex with me?” Which almost made him slice his finger but thankfully he missed it by a centimeter. 

“Who said I won’t” he looked back at you, his cheeks a pretty shade of pink as he flushed with embarrassment. 

“I dunno. You say you’re waiting but I want to and paisley says maybe you’re shy and if m’drunk maybe you’ll wanna do it more but the problem-“ you’re interrupted with a drunk hiccup “with that is, paisley said you have to be drunk too, and you aren’t.” You slurred, struggling to find your straw again to chug down the other half of your second glass of water. 

He stared at you, unsure of what to say and Mikey comes pounding down the stairs per usual and into the kitchen. A bull in a fucking China shop, just like Richie. “Yooo it’s squishy! Sup girl” he came over, giving you a brotherly push to the back of the head and doing the same to Carmy as he walks by to the fridge 

“Hey! You could have killed me I’m drinking!” You slurred, “but I’m asking Carmy why he won’t h-“

“Heyyyy!!! Hey hey squish no we’re not sharing those things” Carmy cuts you off quickly and looks over, shaking his head 

“She’s fuckin gone” Mike said to himself as he grabbed a can of soda 

“Yeah why do you think I’m fuckin having her eat and drink water?” Carmy quips, putting the beef into the bun he’d toasted and adding extra cheese for you on top how he liked it. 

“Mm. Make sure you have a few vomit bags ready I think the last time she was this wasted was her birthday” he headed back up to his room and Carmy sighed to himself, knowing he was right. 

“Who’s vomiting?” You asked, sipping the last few dribbles of water and he set your sandwich in front of you, taking the cup to fill again and you gasp, having forgotten you even wanted the sandwich “I was just gonna ask you to make me one too!” You said excitedly and took a big bite. 

He came back to the table, setting the filled glass down and sitting in the chair next to you, gently rubbing your back “chew it baby Jesus it’s not goin anywhere” he teased and pushed your hair back over your shoulders. 

“I know- it’s just so good” you mumble with your mouth full and he chuckled, shaking his head and wiping some grease that had dribbled down your chin off with the pad of his thumb, wiping it on a napkin. He didn’t know what came over him, maybe it was the fact that you wouldn’t remember - maybe selfishly it was because he knew you’d be brutally honest, but he asked 

“If we did have sex, and I didn’t last very long- would you be upset that you had to finish with my mouth or fingers instead?” His voice was laced with nervous curiosity, but he had to know this to be able to properly navigate having sex since you had been bringing it up more and more often as of late. 

“What?! Upset? I think I’ll cry with joy that I actually can have your dick in me it doesn’t matter how long” you said casually. He wasn’t sure what it was about it, maybe it was the tone of your voice - like it’s an every day thought for you, like you were aching to have him inside of you. Yeah, that was it. The coolness mixed with desperation, it made his cock stiffen a little more than he figured it should have. 

“Mm.” Was all he said, covering himself with his hand, it wasn’t like you would notice, anyway, but he was still ever so shy about you making him aroused - like he was doing something wrong. Even though you were his girlfriend of 3 years and you said I love you multiple times a day to each other. 

While he was helping you shower, and then helping you dress for bed, that was when it hit him. This weekend, his mom would be out of town for some work thing he didn’t care to know the details of, and Mike goes to the casino every Friday and stays out practically until 5 am. He would have the house to himself, and it would be the perfect time to finally have sex. 

He was mapping out in his mind the most romantic way to do it, flowers, candles, music? He told himself he had to do it right and make it a night to remember for the both of you. He had to cook for you - he figured he would make your favorite penne à la vodka, and he wouldn’t tell you about doing it just in case he bitches out. But the amount of thought he was putting into this, if he bitched out he was gonna be extraordinarily angry with himself. 

Your voice pulled him out of his head as if always did “bear” you said sleepily 

“Sup bug” he kissed your head tenderly and rubbed your arm as you nuzzled into his side. 

“Can you turn the tv down m’tired” you mumble into his shirt and he took the remote, turning it off. 

“Love you baby, g’night” he resumed rubbing over your hip as he got lost in his thoughts once again. 

 When the day came, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t bitch out. He thought about it 5 times that day and convinced himself not to, but now, now that you were sat at the table with him, a candle between you, giggling about how ‘romantic’ he had been acting tonight - he felt like a total fucking idiot. 

“I’m sorry, fuck- do you not like it? I read one of sugars magazines she left behind before she moved - they said girls like candles and music” he pushed it to the side and you shook your head, moving it back 

“I love it, bear. I’m just wondering why you’re treating me so special tonight is all, I’d have been a lot more dressed up and pretty if you’d have-“ he cuts you off

“You’re fuckin- y’perfect, squish. I love you, that’s why I’m doin it. I just wanna show you how much” he held your hand and squeezed it gently “you mean everything t’me. Really” he said and kissed your knuckles gently. 

When you made it to his bedroom, you realized he’d hung romantic little white string lights along his headboard to provide more ambient lighting, and that’s when it clicked what was happening. Your heart raced in your chest like a hummingbird trapped in a cage as his hands roam your body. 

You were sprawled out beneath him, both of you down to your underwear, the feeling of his lips nipping, and licking, and biting yours was enough to make you wet, but when his broad hands started palming your tits, his thumbs and forefingers massaging your nipples, you had to squeeze your thighs together to provide your throbbing clit some pressure. You were mewling and whining beneath him, he was panting and grunting into your mouth, your noses bumping with each unexpected kiss. 

“Carmy” you whine into his mouth, reaching to pull one of your hands off of your breast and he pulled away just enough to speak, lapis eyes boring into yours that were no doubt lust blown. 

“Y’good?” He asked gently, kissing the corner of your mouth chastely and eased his grip on your breasts. You moved the hand you were holding down, down, down, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your panties 

“I want you to touch me here…please” you said softly and hook your arm around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his sandy blond curls as you pull him back for a kiss his breath hitched slightly at the action, his cock twitching at your words which you felt against your thigh, causing you to smile a bit. He cupped your heat with his hand for a moment, causing you to grind onto it needily and he sucked on your bottom lip as he spread your lips to slip his middle finger over your sticky soaked hole, teasing it gently before trailing it up to find the throbbing erect bud. 

You gasped lightly at the contact, back arching a bit and moaning shamelessly, your voice coming out high pitched and whiny “oh yes” you said as he rubbed the pad of his finger back and forth and in circles, alternating between the two in such a way that was making your stomach tighten and thighs shiver. 

“Yeah?” He kissed your jaw “feels good mm? Sound so pretty, princess” he said hotly in your ear, gently nipping at your neck in the way that drove you wild. 

“So good you make me feel so good” you mewl as he moved his finger down again, thrusting it in and out as he does that beckoning motion with the finger and he gently rubbed your clit with his other hand. You sob in pleasure, fisting the sheets with one hand and tugging Carmys hair with the other. 

“Good girl tha’s a good girl” his husky voice and hot breath made you shiver even though with how close your orgasm was- you felt oh so hot. You felt him lick your sternum where he had watched a bead of sweat trailing down and that caused your eyes to open once more, to see his staring back like a round eyed cat. 

“M’gonna cum” you choke out, pulling the sheets harder to avoid hurting him by pulling his hair too hard. This brought a grin to his face, finding your nipple with his lips and sucking on the sensitive bud, just as he adds another finger, speeding up his beckoning motion. Your eyes nearly roll back when you felt his lips on your ear, encouraging you

“Yeah? Yeah pretty girl? Are you gonna cum f’me? Feels sooo good huh. Go ahead princess let me feel you cum on my hand I love it when y’pussy sucks in my fingers it’s so fuckin hot. Y’re so fuckin hot” your jaw fell slack in a silent scream, brows knitted together as he praised you while your orgasm came over you full force. You swore you saw stars behind your lids. 

“Please please please pleaaase bear” you found yourself begging, pulling him up for a kiss and he chuckled into your lips, pulling away enough to ask, 

“Please what, what baby what d’you want?” He cooed sweetly before ravishing your face with kisses which made your thumping, racing heart turn to goo 

“Please fuck me. Please- oh god please I fucking need you inside your fingers aren’t enough I need to feel you.” You begged, your voice was raspy, needy, he never heard anything hotter in his life. 

“Yeah?” He asked sweetly, resting his forehead on yours, nuzzling your nose in a eskimo kiss gently. “Open your eyes” he said softly and dried his hand on the sheets, pushing your sticky, sweat slick hair from your face and cupping your cheeks. Your eyes flickered open to meet his honest blue ones, blown with lust, glazed over with love. “Tell me again, I want to see you when you say it baby, so I know you want this.” He rubbed your jaw tenderly with his thumbs. 

“I want you to show me how much you love me, Bear, please” you said softly and he smiled in the way that showed off his little dimples, to which you kissed it gently before he told you 

“I don’t think there’s a way to show you just how much I love you, because it can’t even be described in words - but I’ll try anything f’you, squish” he kissed your forehead lovingly, lingering for a moment. Your eyes fluttered shut as you soaked in the moment, gently rubbing his back. 

“I love you too, more than words” you said honestly when he pulled away, grabbing a condom from his nightstand drawer and ripping it open with his teeth, an action that had you clenching around nothing, but hopefully that would be resolved in just a moment. 

“Now, if you want to stop just say the word, if you can’t find your words just like…bite me I guess” he teased and you giggled, shaking your head 

“Will do” you watch as he slipped off his boxers, rolling the rubber all the way to the base, he tugged off your panties that had been soaked through, tossing them in his laundry basket since you’d need new ones after which lived in his top drawer, and got between your legs. You watch as he strokes himself a few times with his hand and you felt your throat go a bit dry. What if you were the one to ruin it all because it wouldn’t fit or something? 

“You ok?” He asked gently as he caught you staring and you met his eyes again, putting on a smile and nodding, spreading your legs wider in hopes that might make more room. 

“Amazing. Excited” you said, it wasn’t exactly a lie, but you left off your biggest and most present emotion nervous. 

“Okay…that look says I’m worried so what’s up?” He held your hand, gently rubbing the back of it with his thumb and looking into your eyes. It was impossible to lie when he looked at you like that, even more impossible when you were both butt naked and his dick was in his hand. 

“What if it doesn’t fit?” You asked nervously. He chuckled as if he didn’t believe you, shaking his head

“I’m not that hung, babe. It’ll be fine. Do you care if I touch you?” He asked and you shook your head, swallowing thickly. He knelt on the bed with his left knee, leaning over you and nestling the tip of his cock between your folds and rubbing your wetness up and over your clit, causing a small gasp to leave your lips. He watched you carefully, for any signs of discomfort or that you were having second thoughts. 

Your lips were parted and little puffs of air fan his chin, eyes hooded in pleasure and little squeaks coming out of your throat each time his tip bumped your clit firmly and the ridge of it rubbed back down to swipe over your hole and back up to repeat the assault. You could cum just like this if he did it long enough. “Feels good?” He checked, intertwining your fingers and squeezing your hand lovingly. 

“Uh-huh” was all you could manage to get out and he smiled a bit, kissing your chin gently 

“Want me to try being inside Angel?” 

In response, a needier, whinier “uh-huh” 

He looks down for a moment, grabbing his cock and lining the tip up with your entrance. “Remember what to do?” He triple checked, this time- just a quick nod. He ever so gently eased his way in, his jaw tightening at the way it made his balls feel 10 pounds heavy, his cock twitching at the foreign sensation. He grunted to cover a whine instead, and you squeezed his hand tight, looking down and watching as he slowly pushed his shaft in about a fourth of the way and stopped, looking up at you. Once more. 

“How do you feel baby?” He gently rubbed your clit with his other hand, causing you to clench around him and in turn a unconscious moan tears from his throat “jeeesus fuck” he grunts, hips sinking in further in instinct and you squeak, shifting uncomfortably which made him look down and quickly pull back out to just the tip “sorry- fuck I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened are you ok?” He kissed your wrist. 

“Burning. Kinda. Not a bad, it feels…kinda good? It like…it feels like a good stretch when it almost hurts. And like…full. So full, but like a good full. A fulfilled kinda full, is that weird?” You rambled on all the thoughts swimming in your brain other than ‘cock feels good’  which was the main one. 

“Yeah? Feels good f’me too baby” he leaned in, kissing your lips and sinking in further, half way now. He kept kissing you, gently sucking on your tongue as you got used to the uncomfort of the stretch. “Can I try moving Angel?” He asked , almost into your mouth, you just respond with a huffy hum of agreement before pulling your lips back up to his. He very slowly at first started to thrust and had to let go of your hand to fist the pillow so he didn’t bust right then. 

“Holy fuck” he pants, nuzzling his face in your neck and continuing to rub your clit as he thrusted in and out. The feeling left you breathless, wordless, thoughtless. You were on cloud nine, you could die like this. You felt that sensation of an orgasm coming in your belly again, this was the quickest he’d ever brought you to another. 

“Bear-bear- I’m-“ you whine out, back arching and jaw dropping as his tip brushes your g spot and you nearly cry, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes at the intense pleasure it brought. “Cumming, cumming im cumming” you babbled, as your orgasm took over, clenching and unclenching around his cock in such a way that he literally couldn’t stop himself from spilling into the condom if he tried. 

The whiny grunt he made when he came was the hottest noise you had heard to date and was nothing short of beautiful. He bit down on your neck, sucking a pretty purple bruise into the skin before burying himself to the hilt as he shoots rope after rope of seed into the condom. Your thighs tightened around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders so hard they’d leave moon shaped bruises come morning that he’d proudly walk around the house with at breakfast so Mike could finally believe that he’s not just lying about doing sexual shit with you. 

You wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him there and relishing in the feeling. You felt like he was made for you, you fit together like 2 puzzle pieces. You knew he was your forever, but this solidified it even more. After he fucked you through both of your highs, he pulled out and laid next to you in a heap, panting for a few moments before he finally spoke

“Biggest mistake of my life was waiting so long to do that”

@carmenberzattosgf @daysofyellowroses @aestheticaltcow @l4long-winded @thehouseofevangelista @w31rdash @caramelberzatto @wtfsteveharrington

[cobaltperun]

Genius (8) - R U Mine

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part

Word count: 2.5k

-And I can't help myself all I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"-

She really should have started writing her assignment, just so she could get it over with as soon as possible, but somehow, she just wanted to stay right where she was right now. In her bedroom, lying on her bed, engulfed in warm, soft blankets and your arms around her waist as she snuggled with you. It’s been a while since she relaxed like this, now, she wasn’t a morning person, but she rarely spent her free mornings in bed.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked her softly and kissed the top of her head. She straddled you and sat up with a teasing smirk on her face.

“How dare you be so gentle now? After you rocked my world last night?” she poked your chest jokingly.

You pressed a finger on your chin and looked up, acting as if you were in deep thought, the entire act completed with a soft hum. “Good point, good point, I don’t think you minded it thought,” you grinned, way too happy with what you did to her and for a moment she wondered how quickly could she get you hard and just leave you hanging.

Eh, that was a bit too cruel. Besides, you were right, though she wouldn’t admit it right now. In the throes of passion, yeah, absolutely, now that she was just cuddling with you, no, no way in hell would she admit how much you affected her.

“I’ll never say it,” she teased you, leaning down to kiss you.

You wouldn’t open your mouth for her though, and instead cupped her cheek and went for a more gentle, innocent kiss.

“I have your letter, it’s all the proof I need,” you laughed and well, she did confess how much she wanted you in the letter.

“I’ll burn it,” Cairo countered, not yet ready to admit her loss.

“You read it to me, I won’t forget it,” you had a point there, she had to admit that.

Well, she still had a way out, at least she hoped. “I’ll fill your brain with so many even dirtier thoughts you’ll have to forget it,” she whispered it in your ear, enjoying how sharply you inhaled at that.

Your pupils dilated as you looked her in her eyes, and she was sure her own eyes weren’t any less filled with desire and love she felt right now. She wasn’t ready to say it to you, that what she felt went above and beyond high school love, that she felt the madman’s love, and that she knew her feelings were returned. She felt it yesterday, she felt it as you took her, as the two of you burnt up in your emotions, all the desire and lust and need. She found it in you, the ruins of a friendship being rebuilt into the love that felt so right, that felt as if it was tailor-made just for her.

Maybe it was.

“Cairo,” her name rolled off your tongue so smoothly and she wanted to hear you say it more, she wanted to hear you say it ten years from now, twenty years from now, fifty years from now, with that same intensity and love in your voice. “What was on your mind?” you demanded, and she was at a loss on what to tell you.

“Us, this morning, yesterday, so many things at once. I just feel happy, I feel loved for the first time in a long time, maybe in my entire life,” she pressed her finger on your lips when you tried to speak up. “You asked why I pushed you away when we were kids, well,” she paused, moving from your lap and lying back down next to you. Her arms wrapped around you as she held onto you, knowing you wouldn’t disappear on her, but still needing to make sure.

“I wanted my parents to love me,” she began, knowing how confusing it must have sounded. “You remember how they were, right? Distant, uninterested, yet with high expectations,” she told you and felt, more than saw, you nodding. “I got a C on that test, remember? The one where only you and I got Cs and more than two thirds of the class failed?”

“I remember,” you told her, and she could tell you weren’t done. “If it was some other test I would have forgotten it, I can’t even remember if it was my first C or not, but I lost you right after it, and it just remained stuck in my memory,” you sighed, tightening your hold on her as you likely remembered how your next conversation went.

“They were disappointed, yelled all night, and I thought I’d make them happier is I stopped ‘wasting time’ as they put it,” she paused, buried her face in your neck and waited for your response.

“And one of those was the time you spent playing with me,” you said what she couldn’t and she just nodded.

“I thought if I did even better, if I never made any mistakes, if I was their perfect daughter, that they would love me more. They still pretend I don’t exist, like I’m the biggest mistake they ever made,” that was at the core of everything she did, she figured. Craving madman’s love, a love so strong it would consume her entirely, because she’s never been given the unconditional love of her parents she heard and read so much about. Perhaps, looking at it now that she was no longer trying to seduce him, she went after Miller’s love for that reason as well. Because deep down she felt like she needed validation from someone older, someone old enough to be her parent. Sure, Winnie’s talk pushed her toward Miller, but deep down, the key push was likely related to never feeling love from her parents. “I had you, and I gave you up for something I couldn’t ever gain,” she sighed, angry at herself for ever thinking that, for ever giving you up.

“Your parents are a special kind of fucked up,” you sounded angry, and though she knew any anger you may be feeling was directed at her parents she still worried some of it was reserved for her. “You have me now, we’re together, we’ll make up for the lost time,” you assured her as you gently rubbed circles on her back.

“I guess you would have left anyway, since your parents moved,” that was something that brought her some comfort, though it felt so hollow. “Right?” your silence made her prop herself up to look you in the eyes and the uncomfortable look on your face was enough even without your confirmation. “Y/N?”

“Not quite. I could have stayed, I just, had no reason to. And I could have come back two years ago as well,” you confessed, not wanting to lie to her, and she just looked down, processing the information as you sat up and pulled her onto your lap. “Cairo, listen to me,” you brushed her hair back, “Don’t get stuck on what-ifs, things worked out, and maybe they wouldn’t have if we stayed as best friends.”

It was a valid point, but at the same time, the fact that she was the one who gave you the reason to leave by not being your reason to stay hurt. She never considered that your departure could have been avoided, but then again, she never cared to learn more about the circumstances behind your parents moving. Maybe one of them could have stayed with you, or maybe they could have paid for someone else to make sure you were taken care of, they certainly had enough money to do what Cairo’s parents did.

It was also true that the past six years shaped both of you. Nothing proved that as much as how long it took her to recognize you when she first sat down next to you. Hell, she failed to recognize you in the hall, not that she paid much attention to you, even after Winnie said your name, she brushed it off as coincidence, as universe playing a cruel joke by reminding her of you.

In the end, you were right, thinking about what-ifs wasn’t helping either of you. “I still wish I didn’t push you away, I was stubborn, and then I was scared you were angry at me,” there, you had all the pieces of the puzzle.

“I knew you were stubborn, I guess I wanted you to come to me, we were children, immature, not realizing it didn’t matter how we made up didn’t matter as much as making up itself,” you understood, you weren’t angry at her, you accepted everything she said, and Cairo felt the weight she carried for so long being erased. She felt lighter, she felt even more loved.

“Are you mine?” she asked, bringing her lips closer to yours.

“I am,” you closed the distance and kissed her.

And there, with your lips dancing with hers, with your hands resting on her sides and her own holding you close to her, she did her best to convey, through her kiss, through her touch, to her soft moans into the kiss, that she was yours as well.

~X~

“Never fear, Winnie is here!” resounded through the mansion as you cleaned your helmet in Cairo’s living room to the soft tunes of Celine Dion playing in the background. Your helmet got really dirty, the mud and the rain didn’t do it any good, that was for sure, and you were surprised it wasn’t scratched, considering Cairo tossed it aside yesterday.

“That is exactly what I fear,” Cairo teased as she came into the living room just as Winnie barged in with the most flamboyant outfit you saw on her thus far. She had the bright sunglasses on, even though she was inside Cairo’s house, her skirt was longer, though still above her knees and it flowed a bit as she moved, but that was nothing compared to the flashy coat she had on, hanging from her shoulders as the sleeves magically flowed behind her back. Her shirt was so bright you wondered if you should go grab some sunglasses as well and she had several bags in her hands.

“Don’t tell me, there’s a secret government organization after you and this was your only disguise,” you grinned a bit when she raised her sunglasses and looked through the window.

“I lost her, for now,” she laughed, dropping down on the sofa close to you. “And it’s even worse than secret organization. It’s my art teacher, and I’m late for her assignment,” she cackled, tossing one of the bags toward you while you still had the helmet in your hands.

“Wait!” you yelled helplessly and fumbled a bit, but still managed to catch it.

“So that’s why I can’t see your underwear,” Cairo teased and sat down next to you.

“I’ll show it to you if it’ll get me a threesome,” Winnie tossed the second bag to Cairo and then took her sunglasses off.

Cairo rolled her eyes. “I’m not sharing,” she took out her chicken biscuits as you checked the content of your own bag and saw it was the same thing.

“Baby, you’d be shared,” Winnie said it so casually you nearly choked on the chicken you were chewing.

Cairo glanced at you and hummed. “You don’t know what I know,” and now you definitely choked, and she had to pat you on the back.

Winnie raised an eyebrow. “Share the spoils, also, that was quick, I didn’t think you’d lose your virginity before me, yet here we are,” the girl had no filter whatsoever.

“Not one word,” you warned Cairo as you tried to clear your throat and get rid of the awful feeling of nearly choking on food.

“And here I brought you lunch,” Winnie teased you and you just had to wonder how Cairo managed to deal with all the teasing, because, damn, the girl didn’t hold back. “Did you know Cairo dreamt about you? Like, way before you came back?”

Now it was Cairo’s turn to nearly choke. “Winnie!” she cried out, blushing furiously as her secret was revealed.

You just grinned and nudged her with your elbow. “Oh, you’ll never hear the end of this,” you promised her, and you decided you’d do everything in your power to get the details out of her.

“I’ll never tell you,” Cairo knew exactly what was going through your mind.

“Wanna bet?” you smirked and leaned over to Winnie. “Say, you’ve been her best friend these past four years. Give me some advantage here,” you nearly laughed at how betrayed Cairo looked at the moment.

Winnie raised her hand to her lips and pretended she was whispering, though Cairo heard everything loud and clear. “You could fuck her on your bike, or hear me out, reenact one of the smutty scenes she loves to read so much in return for the details,” she suggested. “I’m not sure how you’ll fill her with cum, but I’m sure she’ll be satisfied with 95 percent accuracy.”

Cairo glared at both of you. “She won’t have issues with filling me up,” she immediately got her revenge, and you watched as Winnie glanced down and then up to your face. “Yes,” Cairo confirmed it before Winnie could ask.

“So,” Winnie paused for a moment to clear her throat. “About that threesome,” she just laughed when Cairo threw a paper bag at her.

“I’ll go and get something sweet,” Cairo grumbled as she stood up and went toward her kitchen.

“You sure we can’t share you?” Winnie cackled when all she got as a response was a middle finger. “She’s happy, you know,” she suddenly told you and smiled, an actual, honest, no teasing whatsoever smile softened her face.

You tilted your head, not sure how she got that from this interaction.

“You still have some catching up to do, but she likely isn’t as open and relaxed as she was when you were kids. She’s absurdly stiff, and sure, she laughs, and smiles, but she’s just radiating from how happy she is right now. You see her, you love her, and she’s wanted that for so long, to be loved by someone who can take her loneliness away and take her away from here when she can’t do it for herself,” Winnie explained to you, and though she didn’t say it, you dared to think she left one bit unsaid, the part likely going along the lines: ‘you did something I couldn’t,’ because you saw just how much Winnie cared about Cairo, and you were thankful for that.

“I’ll get up to speed, I want to make her as happy as I possibly can,” you said, looking toward the kitchen. And you’d do just that, you’d do absolutely everything in your power to make sure she never felt lonely again.

A/N: How do I put this. Enjoy the happy times! We’re entering a bit of a angst part from the last third of the next chapter… Four chapters to go though!

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