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hellfire--cult · 2 days ago

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Actor!Steve Harrington x BFF!Fem!Reader

wc: 15k

Summary: Your best friend asks for a huge favor when an extra calls out a day before filming a scene. A kiss scene. You have never been in front of a camera, unlike him, so you ask if you could practice... and also test the waters because you never kissed your best friend. The man you've been in love with for the past years.

+18, friends to lovers, idiots in love, steve is not that famous yet, lots of friendly banter, reader is a bit self conscious, kissing, smut, p in v (protected), 69, handjob, fingering, a little bit of dirty talking

a/n: this wip has been in my docs for months. I recently got back to it and finished it in just days. It was supposed to just be the smut, but as always, your girl can't help herself. Thank you @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading, god knows that if i do that myself i would just delete it all.

Please reblog. Be kind.

NOT JUST AN EXTRA

“Absolutely fucking NOT!”

Steve knew you would react like that, it wasn’t a small favor, he also knew that. Your eyes were wide, bewildered, looking at him as if he had grown a second head or a palm tree at the top of it with a monkey dangling from a leaf. He could only sigh as he shook his head at you.

“Come on, you’re gonna get paid, and we’re tight on time to do an audition for this. It’s just a few seconds, ten tops!” You gritted your teeth together as you crossed your arms over your chest. He winced, knowing you were about to increase the tone of your voice. He knows you too well, you aren’t his best friend for nothing.

“Ten seconds! Ten seconds of me being on the big screen for the first time!” You yelled and he closed his eyes and nodded.

“I know, I know–” He opened his eyes to look into yours, pleading, begging. “I– It’s just that small scene. Small, tiny, and we can do it fast.”

He could see how your eyes showed how you wanted to blow him off, but also the tenderness of caring for your best friend. Eyes he always appreciated. Eyes he adored. Eyes he loved with all of his heart. You rubbed your forehead in thought as you looked down at the floor.

“I– Are you sure you can’t get someone else?” You asked and he sighed, shaking his head. Steve’s hope started rising as you deliberated until you finally looked up at him and nodded. “Okay… Okay… Fine.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around your frame, squishing you and lifting you up to twirl you around. You squealed, a giggle escaping your lips, a shenanigan he never stopped doing everytime you did something he was happy about. Since middle school, he twirls you around whenever he is proud, delighted, or you help him with stuff.

You’re put back on your feet, shaking your head as you take a step away from him, a smile on your face, but you notice a nervous chuckle come out of his lips. You frowned because wasn’t he happy? He cleared his throat and nodded once more, looking down at you.

“Alright– I will talk to James to tell him you’ll do it–” And something was not right. He was nervous, you noticed it, so you squinted at him.

“Steve… What’s the scene about?”

He let a choked laughter out, a fake one, rubbing the back of his head. You felt a certain anger growing inside of you as you looked at how he was reacting. You tilted your head, waiting for him to stop being stupid for a second.

“Um… Well, you see… It’s just– It’s just this small scene–” You glared at your best friend as he kept rambling. You know that when Steve is nervous he rambles… or when he is about to ask for a big, big, HUGE, favor… One you might not like.

“And what is my part in this scene?” You pressed on as he cleared his throat and looked down as he mumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t hear, making you frown. “What did you say?”

“It’s… and well…” You still couldn’t hear him, your irritation only growing each second as you started tapping your foot on the floor.

“Speak clearly Steve, stop mumbling, or I swear to god–”

“We have to kiss while you pretend to ride me.”

And your mouth dropped at that as Steve saw how your confused frown turned into one of shock and your whole body froze on the spot. He gulped as he waited for your response, but you were still looking at him as if he had just told you the most shocking news there is to exist.

He took a deep breath as he looked away for a second, still waiting. He knows he is asking too much. He knows it, he is not stupid, and he knows this was selfish. He is very much aware of how selfish he is, asking you to play this part but–

Steve just wants to kiss you at least once in his life.

While you’re still in front of him, mouth agape, you fail to notice just like you did all these years, how much the man you call your best friend loves you. You have failed to notice. How he looks at you, how he worships you, how he is willing to kill and die for you. How jealous he is of anyone that looks your way, how jealous he was of all the lovers you took, your ex.

And he knows you have failed to see his feelings, and he assumes that you have been unable to see them because you have never seen him in the same light he sees you. So, for once in his life he will take something he always wanted from you. A kiss. A simple kiss. Of course he wanted to do so many other things with you, but a kiss already means the world for Steve.

“I have to do what?” You asked as you stared at him and he took a sharp intake of breath and nodded, wincing as he talked.

“Yeah… That’s why I’m asking you because– It’s kind of an intimate scene, and I don’t really want to kiss a stranger they had to hire at the last minute…” He lied. He did many times before, but he needed the excuse, he just hopes you don’t see through the lie.

You could only stare at him for a few times as you felt your heart wanting to burst out of your chest. You would kiss your best friend. Intimately. Even if fake, you would still kiss him. After all these years of friendship, of shared moments… and after all these years of harboring this burning love and desire you feel for him.

Feelings you had buried, feelings you were managing to leave behind the closer he got to stardom. Knowing you would see him less, that he would start dating another celebrity sooner or later, that he would forget about you and that would give you the freedom to move on, despite feeling completely destroyed.

But you would have been free.

And now, he is giving you this chance. An opportunity you don’t want to miss, but it might just break you. Ruin you for anything and anyone that might come after him. A ten-second kiss, maybe twenty seconds if a second take is required. Perhaps you could fail the scene many times… get him for a whole full minute…

It’s risky. Your heart is at stake, your feelings are going to be crushed after it, knowing you will never taste his lips again, or have him as close as you did. You shouldn’t. You really fucking shouldn’t but you won’t ever have this chance again.

“Fine.” Your voice was small yet his eyes lit up the moment you agreed. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, almost choking him up but he kept a poker face as best as he could. He forced a smile on his lips as he appeared relieved at your response, but that’s why Steve became an actor.

It’s a smile of happiness yet filled with sadness because Steve Harrington promised himself something if you agreed on this little favor of his—something that would rip a part of him, who he is and has been his whole life.

He would let go of you.

It was time to let this love for you die.

—-----------------------------------------------

You could feel yourself sweating as you scanned the document in your hand. The script. It was just one stupid action line, no words in between, just the description of what was happening in the scene.

Kristoff passionately kisses a random girl at a motel, and she is rubbing herself on him while they sit on the bed. He gets a call and the kiss gets interrupted. He excuses himself and leaves promptly.

“Seriously… random girl. That’s my name.” You scoffed as you threw the script on the bed while Steve sat cross-legged, at the feet of the bed. He looked at you over his glasses and he put down his own papers as he sighed.

“Well, it is just a random scene to reveal my character’s personality at the beginning of the movie.” He softly replies to you and you sigh, leaning against the headboard behind your head. You were at his loft in New York City—one that gladly remains hidden from the fans, and paparazzi.

“So your character is a playboy.” You smile at him and he huffs, shaking his head at you with a smile on his face.

“Yes, but then it is revealed–”

“Yeah, the trauma, the unloved boy, blah blah blah–” Your voice became muffled with an ‘oof’ as your face was squashed by a pillow being thrown at your face. You groaned as you pulled it off only to see Steve chuckling at you, biting his bottom lip that only made you gulp the nerves you didn’t know you were holding in your throat.

“Shut up. I mean… Mouse, this could be it. The one movie that will… skyrocket me to higher opportunities.” His smile faded slightly as your face softened… and your heart slowly broke. You knew this movie was going to be good, and you knew this was going to be the chance for his career to take off.

Your time with him now is limited. Once this movie is out, you know the internet will go crazy over him. Fans will increase, paparazzis will be more insufferable, more interviews, more articles, more shows– And where do you fit in all that?

“I know… And it will be a hit, I just know it.” Your eyes went back to the script and you got hold of it again, pretending to scan over the words just so you wouldn’t look at him, just so you wouldn’t feel like you’re already losing him. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he licked his lips and tilted his head.

“How do you know?” He asked and you didn’t look up at him as you shrugged, letting your heart speak your truth. He was still your best friend, and the love you feel for him is still unconditional, and the words you say are honest.

“Because it’s you Steve. You are really good at what you do, and I know you will nail this role and all the ones that will be presented to you.” If only you would have raised your head, you would have noticed how his eyes were looking at you.

Devoted. Whipped. Destroyed.

He gulped once more as he scanned you, and then he looked at the clock. It was getting late, but the scene was the next day and he doesn’t know if he should ask but–

“Hey, mouse–” But you interrupted him as realization struck you. Nerves ran all over your body, creating goosebumps, and then– fear.

“Steve… How do you kiss in movies?” He blinked a few times, and he shook his head a bit to center again as he grew confused at your question.

“Huh?” You felt your whole body beating, not only your heart. You never did this, not even on a stage. You never faked kissing before, you never acted it out.

“You heard me! I mean, is it just lips? Pecks? Tongue? Do you fake the tongue? Do you not? Do you move a lot, or just a little? How do you know if you are overdoing it? Or what if you are not doing it naturally?” His eyes were wide as he listened to your outburst. You looked nervous, flushed, jittery… cute.

“Mouse, you need to calm down–”

“Calm–? Calm down!? You have kissed thousands of times on screen, this is my first time Steve!” His heart softened as he heard you, noticing your distress and how you scanned the line on the script over and over. His heart started picking up a pace as he felt the anticipation for what he was going to propose.

“Well… the basic theory is to know what the scene is about… This one in particular, since it’s just the foreplay for sex, it can be just– lips moving rapidly, and maybe some tongue… It just comes naturally.” Your mouth fell agape as you stared at your best friend. He was being too casual about it, but of course he would be, this is his job and for you, it’s a world-shattering event.

“You say it as if it were the simplest of things Steve. I– Fuck, I shouldn’t have agreed, I’m gonna be so fucking awkward–” You put the script down, running your hands through your hair and Steve bit his bottom lip, not knowing if what he will say next would give him away, or if you are going to run off.

“We… I mean…” He stuttered, once again. Mumbling because of nervousness. You sighed and looked at him as he looked at his hands, playing with the ring that he still holds onto on his left index finger. One you bought for him when he graduated high school, while he gifted the matching one that resides on your right index finger.

“What?” You asked and he cleared his throat, looking up at you over his glasses, a nervous cough coming out of his lips as he tried to sound professional and not desperate.

“We can always practice.” Your eyes were looking at him as if he was the craziest man alive, but it was just because you were in shock. This means you would have two opportunities to kiss him. Today, and tomorrow when in front of the cameras. But– You can’t accept too quickly, even if you are excited, and giddy, and want to answer yes immediately–

“Practice? Like– Kissing?” He took a deep breath and nodded, hoping you would accept, hoping you would let him kiss you twice in his life, and he knew that he might be a little pathetic in his way of getting a kiss from you, but he didn’t want to lose you completely by confessing to you. He wanted to keep you in his life, even if you were his demise.

“Yeah. I can tell you when it is overdoing it and when it’s not.” He felt his mouth go dry as you looked away towards the sunset that was shining through his window. He inspected your profile, your beautiful profile. Your lips puckering out in thought, the expanse of your neck, your collarbone that peeked out of the V-collar of your T-Shirt.

His heart was punching his chest open as his eyes kept moving, not being able to contain himself. Not being able to contain his thoughts from running wild at the thought of touching your lips for the first time. What it could be, what it could lead to… and it was probably just you scrunching your nose at the thought of kissing him.

“You… Don’t mind kissing me?” You still weren’t looking at him, not daring to look at his eyes, getting ready for when he tells you that it’s just work and that it means nothing. Not the way it does to you.

“Mouse, you are fucking beautiful. Of course I don’t mind.” And you didn’t expect that from him at all, and in all honesty, he didn’t even process the words coming out of his mouth just now, but they weren’t any less true. Your eyes slowly found his as your head turned to face him. The orange hues of the sunset hit his irises just right, making his brown eyes turn hazel, clear, and honey-like.

His freckles are basically sparkling at you right now, contrasting with the light, and his short stubble shining as well. He looks so beautiful. Just like that summer all those years ago, the summer you realized you were in love with him. He had only offered you some ice cream, and the sun was just like the one shining through the window right now. He was smiling, younger, and boyish.

And now, he is a man. Your best friend is a man.

“I’m happy to know you won’t vomit on my face the moment you kiss me then.” You giggled, trying to loosen the tension, to loosen your nerves a little bit as you tried to act as his best friend, the way you’ve always been. Maybe you should become an actress as well. He scoffed at you with a shake of his head and then he looked down at his hands, those big hands that grew from one day to another in your freshman year.

“And what about you? You gonna vomit on my face?” His voice was lower than before, and you licked your lips as you felt your body flushing. You suddenly felt smaller, and girlier, and you didn’t know why.

“N-No. I’ll try to not repeat what happened when we were twelve.” He laughed at your words and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory, even if it was disgusting. He was spinning you around after you beat him in a hot dog-eating competition. He was happy you won, but he didn’t believe you when you told him you were feeling sick.

“That was on me. I deserved that.” His eyes found yours again and his smile faded slightly as he scanned your face. “So? Should we–”

“A peck.” You quickly responded and you wanted to curse at yourself. He tilted his head, confused and you cleared your throat, lifting yourself from the headboard to sit straighter, copying him as you crossed your legs underneath your body. “We um… should start with a peck. I mean… it’s like… uncharted territory. Kissing your best friend and all…”

He felt his body sweat as he thought of just grazing your lips and he knew you were being cautious. If it’s too weird for you, you’re going to back out, that’s why you are asking for this. Trial and error. He always wanted to kiss you, even imagined you in the most obscene of positions, but– you haven’t with him. You were still looking at your best friend, the twelve-year-old boy who threw a slug over your head.

“Yeah. Let’s try that.” He moved the script away as he scooted closer to you. You straightened up the moment his knees hit yours, both of you still cross legged, just like you two always sat when telling eachother stuff, or gossip. Your heart felt like it was about to burst, but you had to act as if this meant nothing. As if this didn’t phase every single cell of your body.

You licked your lips in anticipation as you rested your palms on top of your knees. His hands slowly pressed on top of yours as he looked at you over his glasses. Your eyes gazed at his lips momentarily and his eyes did the same with yours. Years of oblivious pining over one another, and you two didn’t know it, didn’t notice it, because you’re two idiots.

Belittling yourselves, thinking you two aren’t right for eachother, not good enough, or not even eachother’s types. You didn’t see what everyone else saw. How everyone bet behind your backs to see when you two would get together. When Steve would succumb and drop to one knee, or when you would simply profess your love for him.

Yes, two oblivious idiots.

He leaned in, squeezing your hands for you to do the exact same, as if reassuring you it was alright. You followed his pace, leaning forward to meet him in the middle. You closed your eyes but he didn’t, wanting to burn the image to memory. He wanted to remember your eyelashes, the moment they fluttered shut, your breath hitting his lips, and then finally, his lips clashing with yours.

He closed his eyes then, so he could focus on the kiss. You knew your heart stopped in this second, in this small yet eternal second. Or two. Maybe three. You felt as if you were being lifted off the ground, clouds gathering around you, and you felt lightweight. A cold sweat invaded his body, or was it warm? He didn’t know, he just felt as if water washed all over him.

He tried to calm down, knowing his blush would show if he didn’t. He pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes again. You blinked a few times, zoned out, and you straightened up as you realized you were acting nervous, or, rather the opposite. You were happy, or floaty. You gulped as you cleared your throat, trying to sound normal, or as normal as one could.

“That… wasn’t as weird as I thought it might be.” And he was relieved to hear that, yet also disappointed by the fact you thought it would be weird at all. He didn’t know it was just you playing the part. You wanted to lick your lips to see if you could taste him even further, but you knew that was to come now.

“Yeah, it wasn’t.” His voice was lower than before, and there was a certain shift you felt in the air. Something that unconsciously was making your pulse go faster. He said it with… a certain tone that you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. He cleared his throat and tilted his head at you. “Ready to experience my amazing, expert, professional lips?”

You giggled, yes, out of nervousness, and trying to mask the fear, or the excitement. You shook your head as you looked at him.

“Oh please, we both know I kiss better.” You smirk proudly at him and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Eddie’s not the best to judge it.” You scoffed at that, squinting your eyes at him. You remember that night, Steve, you, Eddie, Robin, and Argyle drank in Robin’s room, and Eddie wanted to know who was the best kisser out of all of you. Robin didn’t indulge, but out of the three Eddie got to kiss, he said you were the best kisser. He said you were ‘tender’.

“You can’t keep saying that it’s because he likes women better than men, he is going out with Billy now, so my point still stands.” You sat there proudly, not noticing his fingers were slowly intertwining with yours over your knees. He huffed and then laughed, his head tilting to the side as his voice became low in a whisper, and he slowly leaned in.

“I’ll be the judge of that now Mouse.” It didn’t sound like your best friend talking just now. It sounded like a man talking to a girl he really wanted to kiss. Maybe your imagination is running a little too wild. You need to tell your hope to squash down just a tiny bit, or you will get hurt.

And now came the nerves. What if you overdid it now? What if you did it too roughly or too desperate? You have to calm down and let him lead. You will just follow, that’s all you have to do. You swallowed harshly, your eyes closing as his breath hit your lips, your hands tightening around his.

He could smell your perfume, and he was so nervous. He is nervous about being obvious, because, how does he stop the kiss from becoming real? How does he do it? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t. But he won’t stop even if a gun is pointed at his head right now.

His lips came in contact with yours once again, softly. You held in your breath as he exhaled when you kissed him back, your head pressing forward as well. His lips then smacked against yours as they moved once. You followed his movements, slow, and enticing, and you felt your body heat up instantly as your heart threatened to kill you at any second.

You were touching the stars and Steve was on the moon. He couldn’t believe he was kissing you, even if it was ‘fake’, he couldn’t believe it. You weren’t pulling away in disgust, and that for him is already a win. His lips started moving with more determination, kissing your bottom lip as you kissed his top lip.

The smacking of lips bounced on every wall in the room, and Steve felt the temperature rise inside of him. He could feel your fingers intertwining with his over your knees and all he wanted to do was to slide his hands upwards, slide them beneath the hem of your shorts, touch your skin, grip you, and mark you with his fingernails.

With every tilt of head you both did in between the kiss, your mind kept sending images of what you wanted to do to him. How you wanted to push him onto the bed and kiss his neck, his freckles, his biceps, the scar on his belly from the time he protected you against a cat that for some reason wanted to kill you. Then you wanted to take him into your mouth, show him how much you grew up. How much of a woman you are. How a woman like yourself could please a man like him.

But your imagination is cut off when you feel him pull away and you open your eyes to see him looking at you already. His pupils were dilated, and he hoped you wouldn’t see them because of his glasses, which were a bit foggy because your nose bumped into them everytime you turned your head to kiss him.

The tension was palpable around you two, and you wanted more, you needed more. Your breath was a bit quick, and you had to calm down before you gave yourself away. You straightened up once again, clearing your throat. His lips were plumped because of the kiss, and you wanted to kiss them again, but you just raised your eyebrows in question.

“Well?” You asked and Steve was kicked out of his daydreaming as your voice rushed through his ears. He chuckled nervously and nodded, biting his bottom lip in order to keep tasting you.

“Can’t believe Munson was right. You do kiss well.” You were about to give a triumphant ‘Ha’ but he stopped you by raising a hand towards you to shut you up with a smirk to his lips. “But I never kissed myself, so I don’t know if you are a better kisser than me.”

Your mouth fell open at that, but he was right. You huffed afterwards, and you looked down, seeing your fingers intertwined with his over your knees. You felt your blood rushing through your ears and wanted to keep going. Would you sound desperate if you proposed to keep practicing? Would it give you away?

You pulled your hands away from him and he felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Maybe he overdid it himself? Maybe you did get weirded out? Maybe it wasn’t something you enjoyed at all? Your hands grabbed the script again and he tilted his head, opening his mouth to ask what you were doing but you interrupted him first.

“Um… can we practice with the actual scene?” Oh, your words just sent him to heaven. You would sit on top of his lap. You would be kissing him and rubbing yourself against him– Oh fuck, you would rub yourself against him… or maybe you didn’t? But shit, he was already half hard from the stupid pecks on the lips and the innocent kissing, how is he going to be able to handle this?

And you didn’t have a hard-on to show it off, but you weren’t any less horny than he was. You knew that if you put the least bit of friction on the seam of your shorts and onto your clit, your wetness would sip through. He might notice, but maybe you just pretend to rub yourself? Maybe you just don’t press down?

He felt his veins pulsing, specifically the ones that coursed through his wrists. His fingertips were burning with the idea of being able to hold you the way he’d always wanted to do. His eyes traveled over your body until you looked up at him when you received no answer to your question. He gathered himself and nodded with a shrug.

“Sure…” He gulped as he threw the script to the floor and moved on the bed, his shirt riding up as he crawled and sat next to you. He pressed his back against the headboard and straightened his legs to lay flat on the bed. He patted his lap with an innocent smile on his lips which only made your heart stop. “Hop on.”

You pretended to be annoyed by him, rolling your eyes, pretending you weren’t about to pass out right then and there. You uncrossed your legs and moved to throw one knee over his lap, landing next to his hip. Your eyes connected with his as you hovered over him, not wanting to press down.

“Um… should I…–” Your words were small, not really knowing what to do with your posture. His hands hesitantly grabbed your hips and guided you to sit on his thighs, avoiding his crotch. He hissed inwardly when you brushed over it for a split second, cursing at himself for how sensitive he was right now.

“There. Tomorrow they will ask us to do crotch to crotch though. The camera angle will move from the hips, towards our profiles.” You could feel your face catch on fire at the mere thought of rubbing yourself against Steve. He smiled reassuringly at you, his hands moving to your waist. “It’ll be fine. I’m a professional, you know that.”

“That does nothing to calm my nerves.” You rolled your eyes and he squeezed you slightly as you adjusted yourself on his thighs. You cursed inwardly when the seam of your shorts rubbed on you by accident, right on your clit. “What if you pop a boner for me, huh?”

“And what if you get dripping wet for me Mouse? I can’t see it but it can happen.” His words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he felt himself combust. He felt as if he were on literal fire. Your eyes locked with his over his glasses and you didn’t know how to react to it. He was right, but– is this something normal best friends say to eachother? You broke the tension by clearing your throat.

“You are too sure of yourself.” You saw how his tongue darted out to lick his lips for a second and you took a deep breath in as he pointed to the floor next to the bed.

“It will move from here–” and he moved his hand, passing over the end of the bed, over your thighs, both of your hips and then up towards your profiles, his fingers wiggling on the side of your face, “– to here.”

“Got it… So…”

“Follow my lead, mouse.” You gulped the lump you were holding back as the butterflies in your stomach exploded, burst into flames, or they set an atomic bomb in there as he leaned close. His hands squeezed your hips as yours grabbed his shoulders. His nerves were a definite match with yours, completely out of control, berserk, but he was the professional here, he could pretend, even if it would leave a bad aftertaste.

His lips found yours again, making your breath hitch slightly, but you kissed back just like you have before. The seam on your shorts was pressing against you and now you really wondered if your wetness would sip through. What if it did and he felt it? You were far from his pelvic area, and you didn’t want to be obvious in looking down at it to check if he was as afflicted as you were.

Your lips moved together, your heart jumping in your chest while he was already bungee jumping off the empire state building. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, making him hum in the kiss and slowly pull away, making you open your eyes to look at what you had done wrong. He was smiling softly at you, his eyes darting to his right shoulder for a second.

“If you grab at me like that, your nervousness will show. Let your hands roam. Wrap your arms, or your hands can go through my hair.” He was being straightforward, but he was desperate for you to relax. He was desperate to feel as if this were real, to feel you close once and for all, to feel you against him and for your nails to rake into his hair.

You slowly nodded, trying not to feel your entire body burning at the prospect of messing your best friend’s hair with your fingers. You took a deep breath in as you stretched your fingers over his shoulders and gave him a nod. His eyes darted to your lips again before leaning back in, kissing you once more.

You let your hands rub his shoulders, and you thought that, if this had to be as natural as possible, then you should just kiss him the way you always wanted to. If it is too much, you can just play it out that this is how you normally kiss. Giving yourself one last push of encouragement, you moved your lips against him, your hands moving to the back of his neck and then up into his hair. You have played with Steve’s hair many times before, but never in this manner. You want to pull on it, you want to rub yourself on him, but you have to keep yourself in check before you give your true intentions away too easily.

Steve on the other hand, he was being way too cautious and you were driving him fucking insane. He doesn’t know how he is capable of holding himself back but he is trying, and finding himself slowly failing at each scratch you do on his head. It was more than he bargained for, and now he is paying the consequences of it. He could smell your perfume, taste the cherry flavored chapstick you were wearing, the feel of your bare thighs under his hands as he rubbed on them, slowly, pretending this is how he is going to move for the shot of the next day.

Was it okay for him to have some hope by the way you were kissing him? Was it okay for him to just fuck this game and kiss you for real? Was it okay for him to think you felt affected as he was? For a while? All this time?

So maybe he just needs to take this chance. If you pull away, he can pretend he is used to doing his kisses a bit harsher, or something, he can do it, but he needs you. He fucking needs to feel your tongue on his. He turned his head and poked your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Your body flinched but he felt your body roll slightly against him, sending him into a mess of nerves and excitement when you opened your mouth for him.

And when you felt his tongue going into your mouth to dance with yours, you knew you were gone. You are going to do what you always wanted to do, and for some reason, and it might be the temperature of the room or maybe his own body heat, but you think Steve might be feeling the same way you are doing right now. You could feel it in the way you have his hand running up towards your hips, the tips of his fingers going under the hem of your shirt, just a little bit.

So, you take the leap as well.

You wiggled a little closer to his crotch, pretending to move to sit more comfortably, and that’s when you felt him. He groaned into the kiss the moment you rubbed yourself, slightly, over him. You weren’t fully seated on him, but you knew he was hard and was that a sign that this was okay? That this was something you both wanted?

His tongue moved against yours, both of your heads turning as you kept kissing, rubbing, touching, not even noticing that minutes had passed, when the scene was only going to be ten seconds. Then, he suddenly pulled away, breathless, and you feared for the most until he spoke in a hoarse voice.

“Closer.” And you only nodded, his hands helping you move to fully sit on him, your chest against his, and you couldn’t even gasp that his lips were on yours again the moment his bulge came in full contact between your legs.

He was letting himself be guided by his lust and his love for you. He couldn’t let you go, not when you are giving him all the green lights there are. You could have questioned him just now, told him no, that it was too much, but you just nodded and followed with nothing to say. He hoped he wasn’t misunderstanding anything, but fuck, you were rubbing against him. You could fully feel his hard on and instead of shying away, or jumping up in disgust, you were rubbing yourself even more against him.

His hands travelled upwards, going underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers touching your bare waist, sending shivers down your spine, the butterflies multiplying in your belly as the heat he radiates from his fingertips travels into your body. You could smell his cologne, the distinctive scent he’s been carrying for years now, one you detect the minute he crosses a door and into a room.

Your breaths are heavy against eachother as you keep kissing, desperately, eating one another like you’ve always wanted to do to one another. His glasses hit you every once in a while at each turn of head, and the more you sway your hips against him, the more you forget the fact that this was supposed to be practice. He wasn’t supposed to be into it the way he is, and maybe…

You slowly pull away from him, noses still touching, lips still brushing, breaths mingling with one another’s and you manage a small whisper towards him.

“Are we still practicing, Steve?” And that made him open his eyes to find yours. Their eyes, clouded with lust, desire, love, tenderness, and pent-up feelings, met. Feelings that can be talked and discussed later on. He pulled his head back and with a swift movement, you were now facing the ceiling as he got on top of you, settling between your legs. He ripped the glasses off his face and threw them god knows where as he planted his hands on each side of your body and leaned down, his eyes dark and determined, something you never thought would be directed your way.

“Like hell we are.” And you burst in happiness as his lips crashed with yours again. He could be just thinking of where to stick his dick in right now, but you’ll take it. This is being done rationally, sober, with complete consciousness. Your tongues met again, your hips clashed, and he began rutting into you, his bulge hitting your clit perfectly now at every thrust.

You let yourself moan into his mouth as your hands ran through his hair, your legs spreading even more for him to rut harder and he touched heaven the moment he heard your sweet voice react to him like that. You were accepting him, encouraging him and he couldn’t be more grateful to whatever god has heard him. He groaned into your mouth as a particular thrust sent a wave of heat all over his body, feeling himself twitch in his pants, and he knew his boxers were already stained with precum.

He wasn’t going to last, and if he keeps rutting himself into you, he is going to blow his load in three minutes or less. He has been waiting for this moment for far too long, just as much as you have. Your belly was already burning with his dry humping, and it was becoming harder to hold your noises back.

He moved to rest on his elbows so he could move his right hand downwards, underneath the hem of your shirt. You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt his fingertips grace your belly, and then went upwards, touching the soft cotton of your plain bra. You weren’t expecting anything today, and now you were wondering if he would think you are too common for him. Not extravagant enough. Yet all doubts were thrown out the window when he pulled away, his lips pressing to the side of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw, and his voice mumbled into the skin of your neck before he started kissing it.

“You’re so beautiful, fuck– Tell me you want this Mouse, that you wanted this as much as I have…” Your breathing was jagged as he started sucking, licking, kissing your neck. You gasped when he hit your pulse point and pressed his tongue on it, making you press your hips upwards and into him. He just confessed to you he wanted you. He has wanted you for a while from what you could decipher, but questions could come later.

“Yes– God, Stevie, yes–” No turning back now. The friendship was ruined, passed onto a better life. He hummed in delight into your skin, finally daring to move his hand to cup your breast. He couldn’t believe how dumb and blind he was. You wanted him. How did he not see it? Maybe he wasn’t the only actor between the two of you.

Your back arched against him as you felt him grope your breast, rub on it with his big hands. Hands you couldn’t stop staring at everytime he took notes down on his scripts or on his agenda. You had mentioned to him before his hands were ridiculously large, which only made him joke to you about how he never got any complaints about them. You have touched yourself to thoughts of those hands on you and now you get to live it.

He sucked onto your skin, ready to mark you up finally, make you his. You were not pushing him away from it, or denying him from doing so, so that was a great sign for him. Your mouth was open as one hand was still tangled in his hair, the other dragging your nails on his back. You were letting out small sounds, little huffs, but then you felt his fingers go underneath the elastic of your bra, finally cupping your breast completely bare. He moaned into your skin when he felt your nipple perk up against his palm, and he immediately got it in between his fingers and pinched.

You let out your first loud moan of the night and that made him thrust into you quite desperately. He was going to cum in his pants. He can’t have that. He pulled away from your neck, sitting up and ripping his hand away from you, making you pout slightly. He smirked at how fucked you looked already, and all thanks to him. He crossed his arms in front of him and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one movement, his hair now more disheveled than what your fingers had done to it.

You were flushed all over as you looked at him, his arms, his chest, his abdomen… his fucking chest hair. That chest hair that sprouted out of nowhere from one summer to the other and it completely made your hormones go a little crazy.

“Am I going to be the only one getting undressed here?” He asked as a joke, yet not entirely. It was one last chance for you to step out. For you to go back to what you two were minutes before. You licked your lips as you sat up, taking your shirt off in front of him and throwing it away just like he did. He was still kneeling up in between your legs, staring down at you as if you had hung the stars for him. And that you did.

“Don’t be a crybaby.” Your voice was teasing and small, showing how nervous you were. You couldn’t help it. Steve had other experiences now, and you wondered if you could really compare at all. He gulped as his eyes ran over your chest, and he has seen you in your bra before. But those times cannot compare to what this means right now, because that bra will be taken off in, what he hopes, a few seconds.

He ran a hand through his hair as your hands ran over his chest, inspecting him, experiencing him. He moved his free hand to hold your cheek and make you look up at him. Your eyes were glossed over and he couldn’t stop himself that he was already leaning to take your lips with his as his other hand went to your back and touched the clasp of your bra, which made you jump slightly. He immediately pulled away, looking at you, his nose still bumping into yours.

“You okay?” How do you explain that you jumped because of your excitement and happiness? Of how sensitive you were because all your senses were heightened up because of him. How do you not sound in love?

“Yeah, just got surprised, that’s all…” You gave him a peck of reassurance and he hummed into your lips, his hand moving to the clasp of your bra once again and in one swift movement of fingers, it snapped open. A pang of jealousy and anger hit you for just a few seconds until he pulled away from you, his hands grabbing both straps of your bra, his eyes glued to your breasts as he sat back, taking your bra with him.

And, well, Steve is staring. His breathing ragged as you saw how he dropped the bra on the bed, his eyes going left and right, not knowing in which one to focus on. He never saw your bare breasts before and now that he does–

“They’re so fucking perfect Mouse… You’re so perfect for me, jesus christ–” You couldn’t even process his words that he was making you lay back on the bed again, his body over yours and his mouth came in contact with your collarbone as his left hand held the back of your neck and the other your waist.

You sighed in pleasure when his kisses started moving downwards towards your chest, then moving to the right. The left hand moved from the back of your neck to rest on your right breast, nipple immediately fitting between his fingers. You were about to arch your back at the feeling, only for another sensation to override it. His lips on your left nipple.

“Steve–” You gasped as your back arched towards him, your hands flying to his head, running your fingers through his hair to pull him even more into you. He loved his name on your mouth like this… And he wanted to hear you scream it. Cry it. Breaking through your vocal cords as he made you come undone.

His lips moved on your right nipple, sucking on it as he pinched the left one. He looked upwards to see you, his hair blocking his view a bit, but he saw how your head was thrown back on the pillow, mouth open as little breaths left it. He hummed into your breast and then he got the nipple between his teeth, and softly pulled on it, inflicting a bit on pain on you to taste the waters and–

This moan was your loudest yet.

“Oh, you didn’t lie when you said you might be a masochist.” And he remembers that conversation. A drunken night where he almost kissed you. You two talked about your sex lives but never in detail, that is, until you asked him if you were a masochist because you liked being spanked and choked, to which his response was, ‘yes’. Since that night, he had very graphic dreams that had you as their protagonist. The dreams were sweet and domestic before, and then, after that… they were pure filth.

“You remember that?” You ask breathlessly, smiling a bit as you feel him nod as he sucks on your right nipple. “I was embarrassed after saying that… my drunk brain thought it would catch your attention and blurted it out…”

“It did more than catch my fucking attention.” And with that confession, he rubbed his hips against you once more, proving his point as you felt his hard bulge still intact, if not, harder than before. You moaned as he tugged on your nipple one last time before changing places, giving the same attention to the left one as his hand kept grabbing your breast there.

“Oh, does it mean you’ve been having some dirty thoughts about me, Stevie?”

“Thoughts?” He chuckled against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he pulled away to look at you after giving a bite to the round of your breast. “Try dreams. Lots of them.”

The confessions kept pouring out, realizing this was more than just attraction. Both of you now know this goes beyond physical. Beyond wanting to try it out with your best friend. Beyond trying a new experience.

“What did I do in those dreams?” And you saw his face flush, leaving him speechless finally as you looked up at him. You bit your bottom lip as you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him to the side, rolling on top of him as soon as his back hit the bed. Your legs now straddled him, hips pressing against him, provoking a groan out of his lips.

“You were like this in one of those, certainly.” Your ears couldn’t be happier to hear that. You couldn’t contain the smile that spread on your lips as you imagined Steve waking up sweaty to a fantasy he dreamt where you were the main lead.

“Hmm…” And your eyes went down, looking at his belt. You gave yourself a mental pat on the shoulder for encouragement as you decided you wanted to engrave yourself into his memory. “What about this?”

His eyebrows met in the middle as you moved from his pelvic area to rest on his thighs. Only then his eyes widened, when your fingers unbuckled his belt, then undid the button of his jeans and pulled the zipper down. He twitched only by the grace of your fingers over the expanse of his bulge. Oh, fuck.

You were biting your bottom lip with need as your fingers hooked in the hem of his pants and boxers. You were going to do it. You were going to cross the line. A line you were terrified of since the moment you discovered you felt physically attracted to him. One thing is to be only feeling something emotional over someone, but once you start having physical attraction to them, you know a line is suddenly drawn between the two of you.

His breathing hitched in his throat as you started pulling his clothes down. He raises his hips up in order to help you, the nerves flying all over his body, a bit of self consciousness running through his veins as he looks at the ceiling, wondering if you would think it’s weird, or too much, or too little. He never received any complaints but, who knows? This was you. He had to be perfect for you.

But he couldn’t be more wrong. The moment he came out from his boxers, his shaft slapping on his belly as it bounced out, and your mouth fell open. You– You knew Steve could be big. You’ve ogled him, multiple times. In his gym shorts, in his swimming trunks, in his underwear whenever he was getting ready in front of you, and you caught sight of it having a little hard on just very few times. Your imagination gave it no justice.

“What the hell Steve…”

“What– What’s wrong?” His eyes found your face which was locked on his cock, and worry filled his brain as he thought you were looking at him in disgust or something. But, actually, your mouth was salivating. You were put in automatic pilot as you shuffled downwards, your thighs now straddling his shins.

Your hands rubbed on his inner thighs, making him choke on his breath, and you saw how his shaft twitched at your touch. You clenched around nothing as you anticipated how he would sound with your lips wrapped around him. Fantasies of him moaning your name as you showed him just how much you wanted him, now, about to become a reality.

Your upper body bent down, his eyes widening when he saw you let a blob of spit fall from your lips and onto the tip of his cock. He saw how it dribbled down his shaft and before he could stop you, your hand wrapped around him. He sighed instantly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he gripped the sheets beneath him. Fuck– Fuck, how can he stop you now?

“You’re so big…” Your voice was sultry, low, filled with pure lust and he noticed it. You were talking to his dick, not him. All his worry about how it looked was thrown out the window, but when you started moving your hand up and down on him, slowly, another worry filled him, and that was that he was going to cum in just a few strokes if he didn't concentrate.

“Baby–” He called out your name, but then he felt your thumb press onto the tip and then pass it on his frenulum which sent a jolt of electricity all over his body. “– Oh god.”

You were relishing in his sounds. You looked up to see his head thrown back, the veins and freckles on his neck being the stars of the show for you. He looked so good right now and you were flushing all over just by giving him pleasure. You looked back down, and your body went downwards just a little bit more, and you lolled your tongue out. A growl was torn out of him as you licked his tip, slotting it right into his slit before kissing it.

You were sucking him off. You were going to suck him off and oh my god, he is going to die. Or he is already dead and gone to heaven. He sighed in delight as he felt your mouth engulf the head of his cock. Your pretty cherry-flavored lips that will now have his taste, smearing your spit all over him. You hummed in delight as you went further and he had to grip onto the sheets as he closed his eyes, taking his mind far away so he wouldn’t blow his load right now.

You could hear his grunts, how he was holding himself back as your left hand was on his hip for leverage while the right one helped you engulf the places your mouth couldn’t reach. You let your mouth salivate around him as you started bobbing your head up and down, slowly, slightly twirling your head from side to side, while your right hand jerked him up everytime your mouth went up.

“Oh– Fuck–” He drapped an arm over his eyes as his back arched a little bit off the bed at a specific tongue press along the shaft. You want more of that, you want more of Steve breaking underneath you, so you quicken your movements, just a little bit. His breathing turned heavy and you looked up to see his chest heaving, and you knew he was holding himself back from making noises.

You pulled away with a soft pop, making him take his arm away from his eyes and raise his head to be able to look at you as you kept slowly jerking him off. His cock was right next to your lips as you stared at him.

“Don’t hold your voice back Stevie…” His eyes rolled to the back of his head when you used his nickname in a situation like this. Goddamn, you had him wrapped around your finger. He shook his head as he sighed, his belly flipping at how your thumb slotted itself in the slit of the head of his shaft.

“It’s not that– It’s– I’m not going to last if you keep sucking me off, and to be honest? I want to fuck you stupid, Mouse.” Your mouth fell open at that, suddenly flushed all over at his dirty words, at the dirty talk you never thought would be directed your way. It made him smirk, and an idea popped up in his head. “– But… I do want to taste you as well.”

You tilted your head as he slowly moved his hands to grab your hand and one touched your cheek. He nodded upwards for you to pull away from him.

“What–”

“Turn around. Shorts and panties off.” You felt your heart in your throat as you gulped, his eyes dark, never leaving your figure as you climbed off the bed in order for you to do as he commanded. As you did that, he took the opportunity to take the rest of his pants and boxers off, throwing them to the side. You bit your lip as you pulled the button in your shorts open and then pulled the zipper down.

You would be completely naked to him right now. You two would finally cross the line, completely. He would see you in all your glory just as how you just sucked his. You had to stop overthinking this. You had to. He wants you. You want him. And you could see how he was biting his bottom lip, how he was expecting this, how desperate he was to see you naked for the very first time.

So, defeating your nerves, you slowly pushed your shorts and panties down, not wanting to show the bland cotton panties to him, but you made a show of sticking your ass out a bit as you swayed your hips to take off your clothes. His head rolled back as he let out a groan, and you saw how his dick twitched at the sight of you and you wanted to smile at the small win.

You were naked. He was naked. You were both naked. You couldn’t help but cover your face in embarrassment with both your hands. It was still Steve. Steve who came to your house to play in the tree house in your garden. Steve who climbed into your room whenever his mom and dad fought and he wanted to get away. Steve who helped you get your first part time job with him at Scoops where you two met Robin.

And it was the man you have loved for the past years.

“Hey– We don’t have to–” He was looking at you worriedly, feeling as if you had realized what was about to happen but you cut him off by jumping towards him, getting on top of him and kissing him on the lips to steal his breath away.

“I’m just nervous…” You confessed and he smiled at you, caressing your cheek as he nodded, completely agreeing with you.

“Me too… and if it’s too much–” And you shook your head at him, biting your bottom lip as you kneeled up, towering all over him. His heart picked up a pace once again as he saw how you turned around, your ass in full view for him and he couldn’t help but sigh dreamily. “God… I want a picture…”

“Steve!” You giggled as you looked down at his length, still hard and waiting, despite the sudden interruption the two of you just had. You took a sharp breath in so you could gather up the courage and you started moving backwards, Steve’s abdomen starting to show the more you moved.

“Can you blame me?” He was already becoming pussy drunk the more your center came closer to him. His hands rubbed the back of your thighs, and then he smacked your right cheek with his hand, making you jolt and gasp, your pussy clenching around nothing. He smirked at the reaction, his hands grabbing onto your hips as you looked down at his red tip, begging for attention, twitching for it.

“S-Stevie…” He groaned, looking up at your glistening folds. Something he has dreamed of doing so many times. He couldn’t wait for you, to taste you, to finally make you scream. He needed to hear you. He needed to let you know just how good he can worship you, and how good he can make you feel.

“Lower on me, baby, I can take it. I can take whatever you give me.” His words came from his heart because he didn’t even process them. Not that they weren’t any less true. You felt his hands gripping your hips, pressing on you so you would finally move down towards him. You took a deep breath in, and you moved your hips downwards, your hands gripping his thighs in anticipation.

Steve could smell you and it was delightful. He is going to become addicted to you. He already was, but this would seal the entire deal. He couldn’t wait anymore, and his head left the pillow, raising up so he could dart his tongue out and finally lick in between your folds, taking a gush of your slick with him. You shivered on top of him, letting out a sigh out of your pretty lips and his eyes closed as he tasted you.

You were sweet, everything he needed and desired in one simple lick. You were the most delicious and addicting thing he has ever tasted. More than nicotine, alcohol, candy itself. You were perfect. You gasped, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs as you felt him lick at you, slurping your slickness away.

“So delicious… please…” He was begging for you to lower down, and after having a bit of what he could offer, your body lowered, his head laying back down on the pillow as your cunt slotted over his mouth. He smirked right before he darted his tongue out to rub it against your clit and then your folds. Your back was arched as you leaned down, moaning as you felt him all over, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body.

He groaned into your folds as your hand wrapped around him again, pumping him for a few seconds before he felt your hot mouth all over the head. You could feel the vibrations of his noises when you started taking him in your mouth, and then moving up and back down. It was making you feel so good. He was making you feel so fucking good. Your Stevie.

You moaned into his cock when he slapped your thigh, the sound echoing throughout the room and he sighed as he felt your moan vibrate all over. He kept licking you away, slurping on your clit thanks to how you were arching your back against him. You were giving him great access to that sensitive button of yours and he was having the time of his life tugging at it, making you cry out a few times as he felt your body tremble on top of him.

He jerked his hips upwards when you went a little further with your mouth, taking him even more. He was surprised and he stopped lapping at your center for just a second, trying to gather up his thoughts once again. You gagged, pulling up from him slightly, but continuing to suck him off. He had to distract you. He had to make you stop because if you didn’t he was going to finish. It’s been an ongoing battle with himself all night, and he was not going to give up now.

He decided to hold your ass cheeks, spreading them and then he entered his tongue inside of you. You pulled away from him with a gasp, the side of your face falling to a rest on his left thigh as you kept pumping him right in front of you, your chest against his abdomen.

“S–Steve–!” You couldn’t believe how thick his tongue was. Everything was overwhelming you, and you couldn’t keep your mouth on him because you just needed to moan. Your hand was still jerking him off and even if he was delighting himself with his tongue inside of you, he had to keep distracting you.

He moved one of his hands, elbow bent between your legs and bicep against his chest in order to aim properly into your core. He pulled his mouth away from you, letting you catch your breath, only for then to be completely washed over by a gasp when you felt two of his fingers sliding over your folds, gathering up your slick in order to lube them up. Those fingers you always fantasized with. Fingers you pretended you were fucking instead of your own.

“Pretty. My pretty girl.” His praises were coming out of his mouth nonstop. Your mouth fell open and your hand stopped moving on his cock as you felt him invade your cunt with two of his fingers. His index and middle finger, in the position of a finger gun. This will give him better access to that special spot of yours, considering the position you two were in, but fuck, his dick twitched in your frozen hand when he felt just how warm you were inside. He felt it with his tongue, but with his fingers, it felt like something else entirely.

He wanted to give you the utmost pleasure, and he knew he was succeeding by how still you stayed on top of him, cunt a few inches away from his face, seeing his fingers start to slowly pump in and out of you. He could hear the squelching, oh fuck. Maybe he is just going to cum like this. He might cum just by fingering you and listening to your sweet little moans and sighs.

You were drooling on his thigh, and you didn’t have the power to care. You were feeling good as he changed the pace and started literally fucking his fingers into you, making you choke on your own moans. You couldn’t even move your hand on him, too distracted as he kept moving his fingers in and out of you, and when you tried to move your hand, you felt him press his ring finger against your clit, rubbing it back and forth as he finger fucked you.

“Oh Stevie–” You couldn’t help the moans you were letting out, pornographic, and it was everything Steve ever wanted. For you to moan his name this way. For you to come undone under his touch.

“You feel good, baby?” You nod against his thigh, as your eyes remain closed, your hips starting to slowly sway against his thrusts. “Oh fuck, yeah, move against me, that’s it–”

He couldn’t help talking to you. He wasn’t very talkative when having sex, but you? You were bringing a new whole side of him. He wanted to know if you were feeling good, wanted to make you do things to feel even better, and most of all, praise you. Worship you.

You raised yourself from his thigh, holding yourself up against it with your left hand, shaking on top of him as you felt him move his wrist slightly, hitting your G-spot even if slightly, but enough to make you cry loudly. Your right hand tightened around him, making him groan but he didn’t feel the intense burning in his belly any longer. It was there, but not as threatening.

He smirked as he flutter around his fingers, knowing you were coming close as you kept fucking yourself on his fingers. Your belly was burning, tightening, your walls starting to clench as you decided to finally let go of his dick, slamming your hand on his right thigh, and now you were just riding his fingers.

You looked so fucking perfect right now, and he couldn’t wait as he felt you clench even tighter around his fingers, feeling your clit throb underneath the length of his ring finger.

“I’m– Shit, Steve, please, I’m gonna cum– You’re gonna make me cum–” Your head dropped as you felt your belly starting to turn into itself and he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine, only for them to start rubbing against your clit, making you clench around nothing at all.

“Cum on my tongue. Come on. I want it–” And you felt his tongue immediately dive into your folds, swirling inside of you as his fingers kept working magic against your sensitive clit. Your breaths were coming out in short little gasps as you felt tears building up your water lines in anticipation and lust. You felt yourself wanting to separate from him but he held you close with his other hand, not letting you move an inch away from him.

“Fuckfuckfuck– Steve!” Your nails dug into his thighs as you finally felt yourself tighten all around his tongue, your hips swaying desperately against him, not even considering you might suffocate him, but he wasn’t. He was actually in heaven as he kept drinking you, rubbing your clit in order to help you ride your orgasm out. Your cries were of his name, moans he never thought would be as high pitched as that, and you just felt hot all over.

He has to make sure he didn’t cum just now.

You twitched on top of him as you felt yourself start to untense, unclench, and your nails let go of his thighs. You felt him still swirling his tongue and sucking on your folds, eliciting a small wince as you pulled your hips up. You gulped as you breathed heavily, scooching away from his face, his hands leaving you completely. Your knees were wobbly against the mattress as you pulled your leg over his legs in order to turn around and face him.

He was breathing heavily, your slick all over his mouth and jaw, even down his neck, mixed with his saliva. You covered your mouth as you looked at the view before you. He looked utterly fucked just by eating you out. A sense of pride surged inside of you but you still bit your lip as you crawled close to him, looking down at his face.

“Steve…?”

“Holy shit…” He was all dopey smiling up at you. “I’ve wanted to do that since… forever.”

“Oh?” You smiled as your arms felt like complete gelatin as you kept your body up. You looked down to look at his cock, seeing how hard it still was, biting your bottom lip to look at him. “Um… you… want me to help you?”

He raised his eyebrows at you and lifted his head to look down and thankfully, gladly, he didn’t cum. He smirked, wiping his mouth away with a bit of the bedsheet as he turned to look at you once again.

“No.” Your eyes shot up in surprise and you were about to talk as he rolled on top of you, his hands on either side of your face, his pupils completely dilated as he stared down at you. “I want to fuck you, if that’s fine by you.”

You couldn’t nod quicker even if you wished. Your heart was gone already, you didn’t even know if you still had a beat or if it exploded and somehow blood was still pumping, but, sex. You were going to finally have sex with Steve. He licked his lips as he reached over for his night stand and opened his drawer to take out a condom foil. He inspected it, his eyes squinting slightly, making you frown.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking the expiration date.�� Your eyes shot up in surprise at his words. Why would he need to check that?

“I… Huh?” He chuckles as he rips the foil open with his teeth, making you stupidly clench like a bitch in heat.

“I don’t exactly bring many women. This is my house and… it’s where most of you are… I didn’t want to taint it. I didn’t want anyone else but you in here for this… kind of thing.” He chuckled nervously as he rolled the condom on himself, and you were just staring at him. He has been waiting for you, all this time. He wanted you all this time. He saved this place for you, even if you two were never doing this. Even if you two were just friends like an hour ago.

“Steve…” He looked at you and connected his eyes with yours, a feeling of warmth invading the both of you, and you two knew this was right. This was meant to happen at one point or the other, you just were too blind or stupid to realize this. Your arms wrapped around his arms as he leaned down to take your lips in his. You could taste yourself in his mouth, and you couldn’t believe that it actually was turning you on.

Your legs spread even more for him to slot easily between them, his hard cock rubbing against you, making the both of you groan into the kiss. Your tongue danced with his as you two danced around that line that is now a spider’s thread of silk. He moaned into the kiss as he kept kissing you, but he needed to be honest with you, in order to not disappoint, so he pulled away, his breaths heavy against your lips.

“I gotta tell you, I’m not gonna last… I waited too long for this and I’ve been holding back from cumming the past thirty minutes and–” You giggled and pecked his lips with reassurance as you nodded at him.

“Don’t worry�� We can go again later…” That gave him all the encouragement he needed, which he really didn’t anymore than what he already had, to grab his shaft in order to guide it to your entrance. He gave you one last look and you could feel the joy. The same joy that resides in your chest, a joy that makes you want to almost cry, but it got interrupted as his hips started pushing in. Your mouth fell open into an ‘o’ shape as you felt him stretch you out, inch by inch, and– fuck, his fingers did their best but there’s no comparison at all.

He groaned loudly as you engulfed him in your heat, slowly, and all he wanted was to slam into you, go crazy with it, but he had to be patient. He wanted it perfect. Everything has been going perfect till now, and it shouldn’t stop. It should never stop for you. Nor with you.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good for me, Mousy.” His head fell to the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent, your perfume, and he placed a kiss onto your skin. And his hips were not stopping, already going halfway in but you already felt full. You couldn’t believe you could keep taking him but maybe you were just made for him.

“B-Big– It’s so fucking big, Steve, what the fuck…” You couldn’t help the curse that came out of your mouth, a breathy chuckle vibrating in your neck thanks to him.

“I’m sorry– Do I–”

“No, don’t stop, I’ll kill you…” And you would, and he nodded. He took a sharp intake of breath as he tensed for a second before he dove his hips all the way in, making you gasp as his pelvis finally slammed against yours. He bottomed out and you felt him in your throat. Your nails were digging into his shoulders as you tried to adjust to him. It wasn’t painful at all, it just felt like too much, and you felt yourself pulsing around him, trying to get used to it. He pulled away from your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up on your jaw, to then move to your left cheek.

“Are you okay?” His voice was a whisper, concerned and you wanted to cry by how attentive he was over his own pleasure. You smiled even if he wasn’t seeing it and you nodded. “Tell me when I can start moving, alright?”

And you wanted to be brave and say right now, but you actually waited for a minute, and in that minute you knew this wasn’t a one time thing. A ‘satisfy your curiosity’ kind of thing. Because Steve was peppering your whole face and neck in kisses, soft little pet names leaving his mouth for you.

‘My baby. My sweetheart. Darling. My sweet. Honey. My love.’

And the last one was the one that caught you by surprise. It seems he noticed what he had done because the moment you opened your mouth, he started to move. A moan left your lips as he started thrusting slowly in and out of you, halfway out, and then in. It was slow tempo, yet deep, but not rough.

“Stevie–” You were letting out pretty sighs as you closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling him rub against your walls with each thrust. He cradled your head in his arms, looking down at your face, his hair falling over his eyes as the sweat glistened on his forehead.

“Perfect. Can I go faster?” It was a plea, a beg, the lust for you inside of him igniting once again, and with your nod, his hips started rolling quicker, a little further than before, making you moan louder, your head tilting back on the pillow, your neck being exposed to him, to which he immediately attacked with his lips.

He started listening to the slamming of his hips against yours as he sucked on the skin of your pulse point, listening to your moans and his dick was twitching nonstop. He couldn’t believe he was having you like this, that you were letting him have you like this at all. His sweet mouse. His sweet, perfect girl.

It was paradise. He was in paradise. You were in heaven. You two felt like everything made sense for the first time in your lives. Why didn’t you do this before? Why were the two of you so scared? Those are questions you two can ask eachother later because right now all you want is to finally let Steve rail into you the way he’s always wanted to.

And to do that, he had to pull away and kneel up, his arms leaving your head so his hands could grab the back of your knees. He looked down at you for just one second as his chest heaved up and down. Your eyes were filled with tears, your gaze finding his and as you opened your mouth to call for him, his hips started snapping into yours, the bedframe hitting the wall at each thrust of his.

You moaned loudly as your right hand shot upwards, holding onto the headboard, while your left one was in a tight fist in the pillow below your head. He was moaning your name as he saw your entire body bounce against his thrusts, and he could hear how wet you were as well. He growled as he felt his belly burn instantly at it, and he wanted to last longer, to have you in more positions, to make this night unforgettable, but he had a feeling that you would not care. It would be memorable no matter what he did or happened.

“Steve, you feel so good–” Your words were like sirens singing in his ear. You were making this very difficult on him as he started rolling his hips in long and deep thrusts, making you gasp and breathe out everytime the tip of his cock hit the deepest part of you, brushing against your g-spot perfectly. Your eyes were wide, looking at the ceiling thanks to how intense he was being and how much you were loving it.

“Yeah? Tell me how much you love it, baby, I want to hear it–” He didn’t know where all this dirty talking really came from. He was still surprised by this.

“I love it– I love it so much– I love you– I love you!” His eyebrows met in the middle as his mouth fell open, and he was done for. He fell forward as his heart exploded inside of his chest, and he knew you were cockdrunk and it came out of your mouth unwillingly, but the feeling was there and he knew it.

You couldn’t believe you said it. You couldn’t believe what you just did but you just let yourself go and this happened. He fell forward, his hands caging your head between them as his hair tickled your forehead, his lips brushing over yours as he kept panting into your mouth, his hips unrelenting in their pace.

“I love you… Fuck, I love you too Mouse, so fucking much, you have no idea–” He kissed you, and you felt your stomach flip, your heart set aflame. “For so long, even before the auditions–” Another kiss and his hips became desperate, not letting you reply to him at all as your breaths were being knocked out of you, thrust after thrust. “-- You’re mine, you’ve always been mine.”

Your arms wrapped around him again, your walls clenching around his length making him moan your name as he got his hand in between the two of you. His lips smashed against yours as his fingers came in contact with your puffed up clit. Your eyes widened when you felt overwhelmed with sensations, your belly coiling at feeling him brush your g-spot at the same time he rubbed your clit.

“Please, please– Stevie, you are so good–” Your praises fell on his lips and he had to hold on for a bit longer, just a bit longer. He could feel you fluttering all around him so he needed to make you cum around him. He needed to feel you. He was begrudgingly going to admit defeat on not making you cum again, but now, now it was a need. Now it’s a must. After your confession, it’s the least he can give you for having the courage he didn’t have.

“C’mon, one more… One more and I’ll cum…” You knew the climax was going to hit you sooner or later, but the fact Steve was feeling as good as you were feeling was just, making you go a little feral.

“Okay– Okay, pleasepleaseplease–” He didn’t know you were this vocal in bed, but he hoped it was because of him, and he was. You two were vocal and just with eachother. A detail you will learn later on. You felt him rub your clit a little faster than before and you threw your head back on the pillow as you dug your nails into his hair. He moaned as he looked between your bodies, seeing himself disappear inside of you as his fingers played with your soaked button.

He felt you flutter around him and fuck, he was going to cum. He can’t hold it in anymore but he can’t change the pace of anything. He can’t. He needs to feel you around him before he gets to cum. He wants to do it at the same time you do. He wants this with you. This memory. Your eyes widen when you feel your belly burning and your back arched towards him, your walls clenching around his cock.

“I feel you. I can feel you baby, come on… Come on–” And without further encouragement, you clenched tightly around him like a vice, which knocked the breath out of him, his hips stuttering as you came all around him, his name coming out of your lips in a cry of pleasure. He looked at your contorted face for a few seconds before his hips finally stopped and twitched when he came into the condom. You were still gripping him tightly, milking every single spurt of cum he had to give. He gave a few thrusts for good measure to help you ride your orgasm out, until his fingers stopped rubbing your clit.

His head fell, forehead hitting your chest as he breathed heavily, wincing as you slowly started to unclench around him, coming down from your high. He took his hand away from your sensitive nub, and he felt your heartbeat against his head. It was so quick. He is scared your heart will burst at any second.

You on the other hand, you were so exhilarated. You could die right now and you would go happily. Death could take you and you would tell it sure why not. A smile displayed on your face as your tight grip on his head softened, slowly starting to rub circles on his scalp with your fingers, which he responded with a satisfied hum. You were breathing heavily, and he was holding most of his weight up with his hands and knees, but you still felt him all over you.

He gulped as he raised his head from your chest, smiling at you as you connected your eyes with his. He kissed your chest once, then moved up and kissed your collarbone, then your neck, which was all marked up by him, then your jaw, and finally he pecked your lips.

“Hi Mouse.” You give him a content huff, panting into each other's lips.

“Hi, Stevie…” He smiled at you, clearing his throat as he felt his cock soften slowly, moving his hips to pull out from you, eliciting a groan out of the two of you. “Fuck…”

“You can say that again…” Your hands were still in his hair and he chuckled, pecking your lips softly. His heart couldn’t pump more blood than it was right now even if it could, but he had to ask. “Did you mean that?” “What?” He gulped and continued with his question.

“That you love me…” You blinked a few times and you bit your bottom lip as the nerves returned like a bulldozer.

“I… Yeah… for a long time… Did you mean it?” Steve smiled widely, his lips coming in contact to every inch of your face, making you giggle because it tickled in some places, and your heart never felt more warm than it was now.

“Absolutely… fuck, baby, I– How could I not want you? You’ve… been with me even when I was a loser.” You rolled your eyes at him and giggled, shaking your head.

“You were prom king!”

“And a loser! I was an ass! And had no dreams! Well, except one.” Your eyebrow raised in question, wondering what he meant.

“What was that?”

“You. You were.” You felt your eyes fill with tears as the emotions overwhelmed you, realizing the two of you could have had this for so long, and neither of you acted on it. Made something happen, and it only prompted the both of you to waste time.

“You were mine… You are mine, Stevie.” A fond smile spreads on his lips as he leans down and kisses you softly, warmly, with the intent of a forever. And he keeps kissing you. He keeps giving you sweet words, until it's time for the two of you to clean up. The moment he gets up from the bed and you wobble to take a look at him, you gasp, your hands covering your mouth.

“What!? What is it!?” His eyes were worried as he looked at you, and you pointed at his body.

“I– Oh, did I fuck it up!?”

“Huh?” He tilted his head at your question, only for him to look down at himself and for his eyes to widen. “Oh… fuck.”

Your fingernails had scratched him all over. His shoulders, his neck, his back, his arms, his fucking thighs. He’ll get killed, or his scene will be postponed till these go away, though, he doesn’t know if he just wouldn’t forbid you from making more.

But the next day, when the director saw the scratches on his body and the hickies on your neck, he thought it was natural looking. That the makeup artist did an amazing job on the two of you, and the director didn’t even know you two didn’t even go to the person in charge of that. You rolled out of bed because you were running late and you rushed to the studio.

You were happy to be here with him. That it took a practice kissing lesson to be able to be with him. You were nervous, but at least not in the way you were yesterday afternoon. Not in the way of kissing him and him thinking you were disgusting, or deciding it was a bad idea to ask you for this. You were nervous because of his career, because of how this could be seen by his fans, but– You cannot give him up now. Not after all these years of missing out.

He wasn’t going to give up on this either. The moment the movie comes out, the moment this debuts, he will go on the carpet of his premiere with you by his side. He will tell everyone that the woman he kisses for ten seconds at the beginning of the movie is his best friend and the love of his life. He will show you off. He wants everyone to know who was there with him from the very beginning and through every instance of his life, even since he was a kid.

“ACTION!”

And the scene was done in one take, the director praising you both with a–

‘Good job you two! It felt natural!’

end

a/n: i want to be fingerbanged by steve harrington

505 notes · View notes

dilf-docs · 2 days ago

Text

Hand To Heart (I'm Gonna Stay Faithful)

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: a pregnancy scare makes you realize just how deep you are in this.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., pregnancy scare, fingering (WE GET IT U LIKE IT), bit of praise kink, humilliation kink, breeding kink (they're stupid and insane acc), dacryphilia, sex thru the looking glass (there's a mirror in reader's dorm), ANGST in capital, they're starting to catch the feels™ ur honor, hurt/comfort, plot thiccens, this people are clearly NOT in a good headspace btw idk we listen read and don't judge.

word count: 4,757 words

side note: everyone calling this joel nasty but thirsting after him too? was going to hold a trial over my citizens but yk... what the hell, sure! i too want nasty bfd!joel to ruin me: he can be my baby daddy who doesn't pay for child support of our 4 kids and we'd make way to bed for our 5th LET'S GO also spam time! but i also happen to write in wattpad, and got a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) it's on spanish tho, but if u speak the language and would like to tune in, u can read it here

part: prev | masterlist | next

It's a regular Tuesday when his phone rings at ten in the morning.

"Dad"

Joel gets up from his desk in a brash move, immediately picking up his daughter's worried tone. Tommy bursts inside, telling him to calm down, but all Joel can hear is the anxious beat in his chest.

"What's it, babygirl? You okay?" his throat tightens. "Talk to me"

There's silence before she answers, as if she's unsure to continue.

"It's not me" he feels his muscles relaxing, but then Sarah drops the bomb. "It's y/n"

Joel's heart beats with a different type of worry.

"What's wrong with her?" voice firm but emotionless.

It's almost summer again, and he's still seeing you. In a way, you had carved a space for yourself in his cold heart, so naturally, fear settles in. He'd never admit this things out loud, though.

"I don't know, dad" his daughter starts to rush the words out, panic evident on her voice. "She has locked herself in the bathroom and won't stop crying. I-I didn't know who else to call"

"Don't worry" but it sounds like he's trying to convince himself. "M' comin'. S'anyone else in there?"

There's a pause on the line before she answers.

"No"

He thinks of you. He'd seen you cry before, of course, but it'd been over silly childish stuff, like getting sent to bed early or not getting what you wanted for Christmas.

He thinks of you. Images of your pretty face, etched in pain, make his stomach drop. It isn't fair: your face was one destined to be happy for eternity, your smile so contagious Joel would sometimes find himself surrendering to your juvenile joy, his crow feet a little more notorious since you entered his life and carved your space on it by force; a light in the dark.

He just couldn't bear to see a mirror of his dullness on your face. It wasn't right.

"Stay put. I'll be there"

He tries not to think about your eyes drained of life. He tries not to think he's the cause. And then, he hangs.

As soon as Joel enters your dorm, your perfume is up his nostrils, providing him with a sense of relief he didn't know he needed. It was comforting and familiar, words that used to be hollow now carrying a knowing feeling that stung right on his chest.

"Dad" Sarah calls out, going for a hug. Joel embraces his daughter tightly while caressing her hair. "I'm so glad that you're here. I didn't know what to do"

"Breath in, babygirl. S'alright" he looks at your door, closed. Broken sobs can be heard, and his wounded heart feels like a heavy burden on his chest.

"My class starts in ten" Sarah speaks against the fabric of his flannel, "but I just couldn't leave her like this"

His daughter has a good heart. At least one of them did, anyway.

"Go to your class" he's commanding before he can fully process what he said.

Sarah breaks the hug, looking at him with a look he can't quite place.

"What? But, dad-" she tries to protest, concerned for your wellbeing.

"I'll take care of it. Always do, haven't I?" he sees her hesitation, and afraid of where her doubts would take her, Joel adds a small joke in there. "Y'know those classes ain't free, kid. Go ahead"

"Okay" she gives up. "Just... tell me if anything happens, yes?"

"F'course. Trust me"

"I trust you"

He still remembers when Sarah's kindergarten teacher handed him that drawing: Joel was wearing a cape, and she said his little girl had told everyone in class his dad was a superhero because there was nothing he couldn't do. That same admiration and faith is there in her eyes, even as the small naive kid slips from his fingers and turns into the woman that stands before him. He's not the devil, but the worst father in the world, and that is pretty much the same to him.

When Sarah is out of your dorm, he's trapped inside the small room with your heavy crying on the other side of the door. He looks at the small place, thinking about all the times he's sneaked inside during the night, hiding like a criminal as you wait for him behind the door full of scrapped stickers, ready to capture his lips with an eagerness that gnaws his chest.

Now it's just him and your sobs, his terrified reflection displayed in the mirror in front of your bed, mockingly staring back.

What are you doing? it questions, and Joel, always ready to answer, has suddenly lost the ability to speak.

Forcing himself out of such a pitiful state, he approaches the door, knocking softly.

"Sarah" your hoarse voice speaks up, and just then, he realizes how much he loves hearing your voice, no matter how it sounds. "Don't you have classes to go to? Leave me, please. I promise I'm good, I-"

Joel hears your distress, so he interrupts what looks like the start of a nervous rambling wreck. Huh, doesn't he know you so well?

"Sarah's gone" a beat, "It's me, Joel"

As if you wouldn't recognize that deep voice even if you were deaf.

There's silence before the door flings open, surprising Joel, who takes a step back, barely noticeable to the rest, but obvious to you, who has spent hours admiring him and all his small movements, he who you could draw by memory and built in your head as real as he who was standing before you, his eyes circling with a whirlwind of emotions you can't quite place, yet make your heart race.

Joel takes in the sight of you, deciding it's unfair how good you look, despite your disheveled hair, run mascara and red-rimmed eyes: you are still the prettiest sight he's ever seen, and now he doesn't know what scares him the most.

"You're wearing my shirt" he says out loud his latest discovery. It's all he manages to say: not an are you okay? nor an what's wrong?

No, Joel just happens to be very stupid(ly in love).

"Sarah didn't see me" you hug the fabric that makes your frame look smaller, or maybe it's your tired composture that makes it seem that way, avoiding Joel from enjoying the way his shirt looks on you. "If that's what you wanted to know. Been inside there for hours, already was when she came by"

The fact that you rather explain and assure him of his supposed possible worries instead of sharing your own, makes his stomach tie on a knot. Were you too kind or perhaps selfless? Maybe just stupid(ly in love).

Joel grunts, and you're not sure if it's his way of dissmissing your comment (maybe he thinks you're lying), chastising you in a shallow manner or the fact that you're poorly trying to avoid the elephant in the room. Maybe he thinks you're still a foolish careless child who can't comprehend the weight of whatever it is you're doing by being with your bestfriend's dad behind everyone's back.

"Tell me" he gets closer to you, fingers on your cheeks, but they don't dig the skin, instead, his roughness hiding a surprising tenderness to them. "What happened, y/n?"

The rawness in his voice takes you by surprise. Joel Miller, who seemed a man impossible to waver, now stood before you, wrapped in a gloom that left you at loss for words, something akin to hope planting it's seed on your heart.

"Tell me" he demands, yet his pupils move as unsteady as your heart. There's no power for command in his voice, only what you could allude to helplessness.

Was it because you were putting up walls like he did?

Was it because the consequences of being with you are starting to dawn upon him?

Whatever it is, you don't like it.

"What's wrong?" he's pushing for an answer softly, such a contrasting image to that of him in bed. "Please, talk to me"

Please.

The words slip past his trembling lips, defenses crumbling.

Joel Miller hasn't pleaded since Sarah's mother packed her bags and walked out of their shared home. He promised himself he would never be vulnerable again, never at the feet of a loved one, beggin to be seen.

To be heard. To not be hurt. To be loved.

But here you were, red eyes blown wide at a confession spoken through other words.

Please.

Your chest feels heavy, breath constricted.

"Joel..." you utter his name like a prayer. As something to believe in; something to hold.

He rushes to your side, strong arms caging around you as your labored cries fill the tiny room.

"S'alright" he whispers against your ear, burying his face on your shaking shoulder. "M' right'ere, doll"

Your hold turns more desperate, practically clinging as if your life depended on it.

"Take your time, y/n" your name so soft, you feel like crying more. "I ain't goin' anywhere"

"Promise me" you whimper, holding tightly.

"I won't go" he assures. There it is, the same unwavering strength you know. It's for you, he thinks.

"Joel" you call out again, tone terrified. "I think I'm pregnant"

It takes him at least a minute to speak. Even to breathe.

"...What?"

He feels your erratic pulse against his chest.

"Joel. Look at me"

He doesn't feel your heartbeat anymore. Just then he realizes he's backed down, embrace letting go of yours. Joel takes in your eyes, shimmering with new tears and fears.

"Joel?"

"I'm here" his voice sounds like it belongs to someone else, and the reminder like it's for himself.

"I know" your small voice speaks up, "but, just- please, look at me"

Joel holds your gaze, and it's like your air supply as been cut.

You don't want this.

"Are you sure?" Joel asks cautiously, as if you were a small animal he's afraid to scare.

"No" you breath in. "I bought the test, but I couldn't take it... I was, for the very first time in my life, scared. But there's always a first, isn't it? That's when Sarah found me"

There's always a first. You weren't afraid when he pounced you next to his sleeping daughter, neither when you didn't stop coming and he let you in everytime, and absolutely not when he obscenely ate you out while Sarah was on the phone. No, you were brave―brave enough to stand defiant when his conflicting gaze pierced through you, daring you to be the first to leave this mess and forget about him. But you were brave because you stayed, despite it all.

That had to mean something, right?

"You said you wouldn't leave me" it comes out in a shaky breath; a threat. Your voice seethes with a quiet rage. "You promised, Joel"

Like the word promise was a dagger twisting on his insides, not a sacred oath.

So he forces himself to be that hero Sarah still thinks he is. After all, he promised her he's going to solve this, didn't he?

"I did" he runs a hand through his hair. "Got the test with you?" You slowly nod. "Take it, then. I'll wait here"

You don't move from your spot, chest still moving uneven under your labored breaths.

"When you come out, I'll promise I'll still be here"

He can't promise you more. The world? It's what you deserve but not what he can give; Joel can only give so much.

"Okay" your tone is clipped, and that's all you say before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

The room feels smaller than it is, the small plastic stick feeling heavier in your fingers than it actually is. You hear the clock's tick, Joel's frantic pace and your own irrational beat. It feels like a bomb: ready to explode and destroy everything within it's range.

Time drags like a cigarette, walls closing over your shaking pale frame. Your phone has a timer going on, yet for some reason, it feels an end to your beginning. You hug your body, wishing it was Joel's arms doing so.

But you saw it: fear, hesitation. It was on his eyes, auburn cracking like wood under fire. He was weak, and so were you. All of this... it starts to loose it's meaning. What started as a summer fling now falls upon you like a second skin you can't quite wash off, and it's suffocating as much as the enclosed space where a stupid line could change the rest of your life forever.

Joel outside isn't doing much better. He's aware his walking probably set you on edge, so now he's sat at the small bed that dips under his weight. He takes one deep breath, two―then looses count.

How could he be so careless? For a brief moment, why did he let himself believe it could be?

For God's sake: you were his daughter's friend. He had seen you and Sarah play on his house, laughing on his porch, gossiping on her bedroom. Growing up.

He wanted you, a desire so consuming it sometimes kept him up at night, thoughts confusing with something else. Probably fear, probably acceptance.

Joel is aware you changed his life. You, with your wild spirit and obnoxious laugh. You whom he couldn't tear his gaze away when standing in the same room, a magnetic force making the world around you drawn to you and that dangerous allure you had that made it impossible to resist you. To forget you. To leave without you.

He feels dirty. A monster. A wolf with an insatiable hunger, sinking his canine teeth on your soft flesh. He'd drink your blood, to always keep a part of you with him; to be one. Like a lamb sent to the slaughter: but you wanted it. You had placed your head inside his jaw; trusting. As if knowing he could devour you, yet he'd never hurt you. Daring, almost.

Show me you can love me. Take a bite. Take me as yours. Mark me. Ruin me for anyone else. My blood, it belongs to you. This isn't a sacrifice―this is love.

When you exit the bathroom, hand holding the pregnancy test, it's all clear to him.

For a moment even, Joel forgets there's a world outside and sees a small baby: they have your smile, your eyes―and nothing of him, because you're the sun of his moon, the light of his darkness, and that baby is a mirror of you and your beauty. You and your warmth, devoid of his cold and far from where his filth can taint it. They have to look like you, because you are the most beautiful person in the world, and suddenly, the idea one more of you is possible, makes it feel like just you isn't enough.

"It's negative"

For the second time in the day, Joel is rendered speechless. His gaze is trained on the floor, lost in thought. Besides his lack of an answer, whatever he's thinking makes you nervous.

"Joel, are you okay?" you call out.

He swallows the lump on his throat, pose akward before he moves next to your bed.

"M' fine, baby. C'mere" he sits over it again, motioning with his hand the empty spot next to him. Joel's embrace is warm, like it shields you from the cold harsh truth.

"Are you upset?" you ask over the comfortable silence, the underlying tension stretching like a rubber band.

"No" his answer comes quick, "but I won't lie to ya', doll. Thought for a sec and ol' man like me could give a pretty girl like yourself a baby as beautiful as their mamma"

A treacherous pink dusts your cheeks. Had you lost all your common sense? Seconds ago, your life hung by a fragile thread, and now all your body can think is to go for the same risk again. Fuck it.

"Did you? I thought you were too busy freaking out"

Joel lets out a nervous laugh. "M' a busy man, doll. Learned how to do two things at once"

A fire settles in your stomach when his touch lingers over your soft flat belly, longing.

"Hmm, I see" your fingers move from his hold to his collarbone, as they play with the buttons he hasn't wore.

"Y/n" he warns. You stop for a moment, not because you're unsure, but because when you look up, his eyes don't shine with that glint of danger and hunger that gives you the thrills. Instead, they look at you with a fondness he doesn't seem to even realize―the one that gives you the hope of it all.

"I want this" you speak up, voice confident.

"I don't think that's a good idea, doll. What'ya need is-"

"You" your face gets close to his, cutting his words and breath. Joel's adam's apple bobs, your throbbing pussy going through a Pavlovian response, such action an indicator he's surrendered to you, mouth watering at just the thought. "You said you could do two things at the same time, right? The comfort me in the only way you know"

There's hesitation on his eyes, and while you think it's because he's still hung up on the idea this isn't what you need, Joel's mind is stuck in the fact you think he can just warm your bed but no your heart. It's stupid, indeed. It can't affect him that much. Ashamed, he cuts the space hanging between your lips and traps them in a heated kiss.

"Hmh, Joel" your voice barely audible as Joel's fingers grip on your hair, his sleazy tongue sliding it's way into your mouth until you can feel it in your teeth. "Please..."

He chuckles at your neediness. "Please, what?"

"Please" you whimper, feeling your back heat with droplets of sweat under Joel's shirt, the sticky feeling akin to that starting to pool in between your thighs. "Please, make me feel good"

Joel smiles adoringly, moving your body until your legs are up his shoulders. Sure, his knees covered by his dirty worn-out jeans are ruining your fresh laundry, and his joints may crack here and there, but you don't pay mind to this little things: all you care is how he's kissing your bare thighs, his salt and pepper stubble tickling skin that feels more sensitive than ever; burning almost.

"Gon' touch 'tis pretty pussy 'til you forget y'r name, doll" he breathes out. "Will ya' let me?"

You nod eagerly as he helps you get out of your panties, throwing them somewhere around the room. You smack his arm playfully at his rough manners, but then he's pressing his lips with wet ticklish kisses on your legs and laughter bubbles at the tingles it's causing.

"S-stop, Joel!" you beg, legs shaking. Your giggles are contagious, and soon the foreign feeling lifts the corners of his scowl into a smile, a concept becoming more familiar with time.

"I ain't stopping" his fingers then graze your clit, tauntingly. You whine, as Joel doesn't let up on your clit, his calloused digits coated in your arousal. "'Tis what you asked for, baby. So 'm gonna make you feel good. So good until you can't speak nothin' that ain't my name"

The threat feels like a delicious promise, so you tell him you'll behave.

"I wanna try somethin', doll. Wait" you whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, and then he's moving your body until he's against the wall and you're on the border of the bed. With your eyes, you follow his line of view. "So needy, ain't ya'? Cockhungry slut. Jus' scared the shit out of me and now you want me inside?" he tsks. "Sick fella"

"Joel..." you breath out, desire pooling into your orbs.

"Wanna see you, doll" you see your reflection in the mirror as Joel lowers his head to whisper on your ear, eliciting goosebumps on your skin. "Want you to see yourself, too. How you'll be beggin' for me"

His middle and ring finger dip between your folds as he continues the minstrations, fingers pumping in and out as they graze your moist cunt. They start to go in circles, and even if it's not exactly next to your bed, you can see the mirror begin to fog, whines condensed in the heavy air.

His shirt clings uncomfortably to your body, but you don't care. In a way, he feels even closer to you, as if he was an extension of yourself.

Joel's body radiates heat on it's own, making the room's temperature skyrocket.

You lean your head back onto the mattress, moaning.

"Need ya' to use that pretty mouth of y'rs, doll. Say it" his fingers linger on the dip of your hips, waiting for an answer with a smirk and daring manner. "Say what ya' want; that's if you can"

It takes you a while to speak up, the slippery sound of Joel's coated fingers the only sound to be heard on your dorm.

"I... I need" you whine through labored pants, "I need you, Joel"

I need you, Joel. It's in the heat of the moment, really, yet on that very instant, he makes a silent vow that hangs unspoken in the air.

"Good girl" he bites your earlobe, making a chill run down your spine.

His fingers fuck into you just how you like it: swirling to explore your inner tight walls.

"Fuck. Love how your pussy takes me, doll. 'S mine, isn't it? Say it, say who this pussy belongs to. Who's the only man allowed to have it"

You close your eyes, but the answer comes clear. "You, Joel. Just you"

You whine, feeling him go harder in a new-found confidence. Your nails dig on his biceps, but he doesn't flich, still busy burying his fingers inside your clit as his mouth continues spilling filthy shit you barely can comprehend, mind starting to go numb.

Normally, Joel would make you cum on his fingers, always making sure to lick it after, claiming it was bad manners to leave to waste. But today, the clock ticking in your wall, he knows he must hurry.

"Eager, eh?" you taunt back, seeing how quickly he's pulling down his underwear, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance.

Your dripping cunt welcomes his cock, tip teasing your entrance.

"Don't" he seethes.

"Don't?" you laugh. "Don't what, laugh?"

His fingers grab your jaw tightly, forcing you to look behind you.

"Don't stop lookin', doll"

Joel slips the tip of his cock into you, his hands grabbing your waist to steady you. He looks at you through the mirror, seeing your dazed eyes, waiting as you bite your lip.

"That's it, good girl" he praises, purring against your ear. You see his face go down and lick the side of your neck before sinking his teeth in it. "Gonna reward you for'at"

Your mouth falls agape when he fully pushes his cock inside of you, burying himself to the limit in the first thrust. You moan, stretch wet pussy trying to adjust to his girth. He groans, his hips moving back and forth with yours, to meet his thrusts.

"R-right there" you whimper, feeling eyes starting to water. It had been a long day, and with his cock buried deep inside you, you can't think of anything else: just him―like this, for the rest of your life; you don't need more. "Fuck, don't stop"

His thumb rubs across your cheekbone, capturing a tear that had slipped past your foggy mind in a brittle moment of vulnerability, brown eyes flickering with something else. It could be.

We could be.

"Fuck, you cryin' over this cock, doll? What'a fuckin' slut" he laughs incredulously, but there's a hidden fondness to it. "S' that how good 'm makin' you feel?"

You can only moan, his dick harder now, his infatuation with your fucked-out state evident in the way his movements become more hectic.

"Can't even speak? What'a dirty minx inside 'tis sexy little body"

"Mhm" you blabber, tears running hot down your cheeks, landing on the mattress in fat droplets, noticeable through the reflection even. Joel stares back at your puffy eyes, devotion pouring at your glossy gaze, coated in a faint red tint, more pronounced from your earlier cries. Fuck. Never did he think your lambent eyes and sniffle sounds could turn him on this much. Something about him being the cause of it has his head spinning.

"New rule" he growls, "you keep those pretty red eyes lookin' at me when you cum"

You whimper at his words, the powerful aura they carry pushing your orgasm closer to the edge. You feel your tight folds clenching around his cock, hands holding to his back while your nails dig in it. You feel yourself approaching your release, multiple tears escaping down your cheekbone. In an obscene gesture, it isn't his thumb but his tongue what removes the wet stream from your body, feeling the salty drops on his tastebuds.

You were already so worked up, it was a matter of seconds before you could cum at any moment. Your walls clench around his length, and before you can process, Joel pulls your body up, caging your tits until they're pressed against his soft chest. You face the white paint of your wall, and Joel can see your back in the mirror as he's still buried inside of you. You gasp at the change in position, all of the sudden, a painfull delicious sensation flooding your senses.

"You're gonna cum, aren't ya', doll?" Joel's asking, hot breath nestled in your neck.

"Hmh" you barely manage to blurt as he fucks into you harder, your arms clutching onto him. You were being so loud now that you were sure you'd get at least one noise complain, hoping it stays there; if they found out not only had you been fucking, but with a fourty year old man who happpened to be the father of your bestfriend, you'd probably get expelled. "So close..."

"You know?" he whispers, voice fragile over the sound of your pants and worked up breaths. "I was scared, ealier. M' sorry you had to see that" your body trembles, making you close your eyes. "But I need ya' to know, for'a moment, I did think about having a kid with you"

Your forehead drips with sweat, mixing with the sodium of your tears.

"Maybe in 'nother life, huh?"

Your heart feels like it's about to burst when he sloppily kisses you, as to prevent any words come out of your mouth―humilliating or full of regret, avoiding the heart ache of a rejection. Joel, for a moment, lets his heart wander off to territories he shouldn't, thinking of things he should leave to be. Joel digs his hole deeper, but he doesn't care: he just wants to be the best grave in your cementery.

"Maybe" you answer, but it sounds like a possibility, the promise of a foolish mind betraying the guarded hidden hope.

"Fuck, Joel" you bury your face against his soft pecs, your orgasm crashing over you. Your whine comes our rather loud, trying to drown the sound against his body. He doesn't stop holding you on his arms, firm; you'd probably fallen if he didn't.

"Wait for me, doll. 'M close"

"Please" you plead, kissing his jaw. "Need you. Want to feel you, Joel"

Not daddy, but his name. I want you. I need you. Want to feel you; for you to fill me. He groans, rhythm sloppy as he crashes his lips into yours. he should stop, especially after today's events, but God, his traitorous head is filled with images of you, belly round with his child, one carved to be the spitting image of you.

Do it.

You moan inside his mouth when you feel him finish inside of you, thick, your fingers running through his dark greying hair damp with sweat.

"M' right here" he says his words from earlier, and you feel yourself hugging him to keep his body next to yours even as he pulls out.

"I know" you hum, arms around his neck. "Thank you for coming"

"What of both?"

You let out a laugh.

"Jesus, Joel" but your tone is devoid of malice, adquiring that layer to it, just like his own. There's a shift in the air, and if you felt it before, now you know there's no point of return. "You sure are something else"

dts: @ann-gell; angél de mi corazón, tkm mucho, gracias por llegar a mi vida, ah.

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #bfd!joel miller #bfd!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction #to the devil i know series

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wileys-russo · 10 hours ago

Note

👋🏻👋🏻

Reader and alexia during winter " if you steal the blankets again , I am gonna put my cold feet on you "

cold feet II a.putellas

"amor. you promised to put that away!" you scolded, returning from brushing your teeth and finding your girlfriends face illuminated by the gentle blue glow of the ipad which hadn't left her hands all evening.

you sat yourself down on top of her, knees either side of her torso and unimpressed glare piercing into her forehead as her own gaze remained locked on the screen, only a half hearted hum in response.

"you are like a badly behaved toddler at a restaurant!" you warned, having been on her case about screen time and a more healthy relationship with the device that she'd been glued to the moment she got home from training.

"que? i am no toddler!" the blonde scowled in response as your eyes rolled and you darted forward, snatching the device from her grip and quickly holding it out of reach where she tried to snag it back.

"cariño por favor. let me just finish-" once more the footballer tried to stretch up for it but you only pushed your own hand higher, taking a step back from the bed with a firm shake of your head.

"no ale. an hour ago you told me the same thing, and look where we are now? in bed, to sleep!" you warned, alexia muttering something under her breath as you got up off of her and disappeared from sight. making a point to leave her precious ipad in the living room where hopefully it would serve as a lessened temptation for the near thirty year old woman in bed waiting for you.

not that you'd know that with the way she'd become addicted to that stupid little screen, if you'd known it would become the third person in your relationship you'd have never encouraged she buy it in the first place.

and the worst part was all of this was because she'd become addicted to some weird little farming game you were sure one of her teammates had shown her, preferring carrots than kisses as you'd tried to divert her attention back to you for hours.

"alexia!" you huffed in annoyance as you returned, once more finding her face bathed with the soft blue glow of a digital screen, only this time it was her phone.

"es necesario tonta!" your girlfriend was quick to flip her phone in your direction, showing she was setting her morning alarm as you hummed skeptically and she pulled a face at you in response.

"nothing necessary about you waking up at five in the morning on your day off putellas." you grumbled, finally joining her in bed as she stretched over to place her phone back on the bedside table.

"nosotros." the blonde mumbled, the word paired with a soft kiss to your cheek as you rolled over to look up at her skeptically. "we? oh no, just you mi amor." you shot her down instantly, reaching up to squeeze her cheeks together gently in one hand before she pushed it off.

"mm but princesa we could go for a walk. get a coffee. watch the sun rise. muy romántica!" the catalan laid down beside you, arms encircling your torso as she shuffled herself closer, front pressed to your back as you were overwhelmed with the smell of the perfume she insisted on almost bathing in after a shower.

you settled as you felt warm lips trace soft kisses down your exposed shoulder, the oversized shirt hanging off of you as despite the chilly weather tonight alexia ran hot and if you slept in anything more than this you knew you'd wake up near boiling.

"or we could sleep in. order breakfast. eat it in bed together. más romántica!" you countered her offer with a grin, craning your head back to sweetly peck her lips which curled into a small smile of amusement.

"you do not want to get a coffee and watch the sun rise with me?" the blonde feigned an offended pout as you chuckled. "not in the middle of winter bebé." you wiggled an arm free from her grip and patted her cheek, the midfielder kissing your palm as your thumb tenderly traced the curve of her jaw.

"how about we sleep in. we go for a walk to get breakfast. watch the sun set on the beach." you offered as an alternative, the blonde watching you, eyes scanning each little detail of your face for a moment before answering.

"go for a walk to get breakfast. amor your favourite cafe is ten minutes away!" alexia laughed softly, the sound floating around the room as she shook her head. "sí? so we can walk there! you are welcome." you smiled happily as all your girlfriend could do was let out a small sigh.

"es difícil decirte que no." the girl tutted only causing your smile to widen as one of her hands slipped up the side of your shirt, fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes against the skin making your stomach tense.

"then say yes." you poked her nose as her eyes rolled and you moved a little further away to lean over and flick off the lamp, the room engulfed in a much welcomed darkness as you blinked a few times to adjust.

"we can even see if some of the girls want to come and kick a ball with you eh? keep you entertained." you teased, playfully smacking her forehead where the feather light kisses that had been previously peppered all over your face turned to a playful tug of your bottom lip with her teeth.

"or maybe i will just bring the ipad? you can sit and watch your little cartoons!" you cooed mockingly, squealing as you felt two ice blocks press against your bare calves.

"aleja eso de mi!" you warned, rolling over and pushing her away from you as the blonde let out a bark of laughter. "how does this-" you poked her shoulder. "-run so hot. but these-" you pointed to the end of the bed where her feet were.

"-are like ice!" you scowled, forever nagging your girlfriend about wearing socks to bed since she loved nothing more than to smother you with affection however the ice blocks which were attached to her ankles were not a welcome part of this.

"eh how you say it? i am, magic." the older girl wiggled her fingers at you as you rolled your eyes, though unable not to crack a small smile at the adorable tilt in her english, something you knew she'd worked on a lot to be able to communicate so much with your family who, as hard as you'd tried, barely spoke two words of spanish.

"you are, annoying." you stole a kiss before she could respond, the blonde only humming but also making no move to stop you as you moved to lay down half on top of her, fingers tapping away at her phone screen to turn off her alarm.

a few more minutes of chatter in between kisses and both of you were clearly tiring, eyes drooping and conversation slowed as instead of words now all you seemed to be able to do was hum at one another, shuffling a little further down into bed as you made yourselves comfortable, limbs entangled.

"if you steal the blankets again mi amor, i will put my cold feet on you." your girlfriend mumbled in your ear, squeezing your hips and feeling your body shudder for a moment with a snicker of quiet laughter.

"well if i wake up and find that ipad in here tomorrow morning, you and your cold feet can sleep on the couch putellas."

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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riddlesrose · 1 day ago

Text

kissin him stupid

w/ the housewardens

in which you were recently gifted a tube of lipstick from grim, you're unsure of where he got it or why he decided it's yours now but it's given you a fantastic idea.

(he probably stole it from vil somehow and wants to place the blame on you..)

note; malleus' is the shortest but the most full of love i swear to goooood but the post itself is quite long

if riddle could form a proper sentence right now, he might scold you for slacking off, or breaking rule six hundred and seventeen, or he may just ask you to do it again. if colours could speak, his face would scream in comparison to the red accents in the housewarden’s room, uniform and matching hair.

you attempt to keep a sober expression but he seriously cannot be so flustered by a single kiss? the red lip stain on his cheek is bright against the flush of his cheeks, as he sputters vowels and consonants, attempting to speak, to protest, to ask you what in the queen’s name are you doing.

you invited riddle over to the ramshackle dorm under the guise of needing help with studying, but you had this motive the entire time. riddle could feel your rebel to his help and directions if he ignored the obvious fact you hadn’t even cracked the spine of your book yet (to be fair it was only assigned today, and it was a new book), and the devious smile you attempted to hide until now.

riddle took a breath, finally feeling sensible enough, “what… was that.”

“affection, riddle. this isn’t new.” you shot, tone dripping in sarcasm.

“yes, my rose, i know that. i mean,” he grabs hold of your uniform tie, drawing you closer, “what’s with the lipstick?” your head probably could have exploded, where did this riddle come from and how can he be drawn out more often?

you press a swift kiss to riddle’s other cheek, thanks to the proximity. “i have no explanation,” you press another kiss onto his forehead, “i simply was gifted it,” a kiss to his temple, “this morning.” the grip riddle has on your tie loosens completely as it falls back onto your chest, slightly wrinkled from the force.

“i just had this ironed!” you frown.

“i-i’ll get it done again.” riddle stands, brushing invisible dust off his jacket, though nothing could distract from the shade of pink that covers his face.

“you’ll iron my tie for me? how kind.” you wrap an arm around riddle’s waist, pulling him close. he drops his forehead against your chest with a thud, inaudibly mumbling to himself.

you wrap your other arm around him as he takes your face between his hands, slightly squishing into your cheeks he drags your face to his height, kissing you feverishly.

“where did this riddle come from? i like him.”

“i just felt… bold i suppose.” riddle’s red tinted lips smile against yours.

“do it again!”

leona stirs underneath you. you’re sat, straddling either side of his hips, weight pressed on his defined torso. leona doesn’t know it but you’ve practically trapped him where he sleeps. where he’s asleep currently, that is. in your dorm.

on your couch.

using your pillows, taking in the setting sun like a true feline, though you would never dare utter the word feline anywhere near him lest you face the wrath of a moody boyfriend.

you silently laugh to yourself, leaning down and pressing your lips on the prince’s temple.

leona stirs again at that, attempting to roll over – he cracks an eye when you gasp. slowly, coming to his senses, he furrows his brows at your positioning. you weren’t there when he fell asleep, when did you do that, and why are you sitting on him with half of a sinister smile across your lips…

and when did your lips turn red? he brings a hand up to rub his face, trying to shake the sleep out of his fogged mind, but you catch his hand before it makes contant.

“don’t, it’ll mess up all my hard work,” you say with a half hint of embarrassment. (just a hint; only because you were caught before you could slip away undiscovered.)

leona’s confusion increases, as he detaches your hand from his wrist. he takes his freed hand up to your lips and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, smudging it further across the line of your lip.

he inspects his red finger, “is this… lipstick?” you purse your lips in an attempt to stifle the laugh that bubbles in your chest. he looks ridiculous; eyes half lidded, nose crunched in focus and red marks painting his face.

your tinted lips curl upwards slightly into a smug grin, “maybe?” if leona knows one thing, it’s smug grins. he matches yours and wipes his thumb on your cheek, smearing the lipstick off his thumb and onto your skin.

you playfully swat his hand away and lean down to continue painting your masterpiece, placing another kiss on his skin – onto the spot between his eyebrows. leona’s hand find your hip, giving a teasing pinch to the side.

leona may be a prince used to some pampering, but this is some treatment he could get used to.

azul has a finger in every pie, as riddle likes to say. you’re very much aware of that as your boyfriend likes to talk your ear off about his investments, new opportunities and the lounge. you’re so very proud of all of his hard work but sometimes he gets off on a tangent that doesn’t stop until you make him. usually with a kiss. it flusters him just enough that he forgets what he was going on about and it works every time.

this time, however, was a bit different. azul didn’t take notice of the hue change of your lips as you leaned in and shut him up. drawing back, you snicker at his pursed lips and flushed cheeks, and the red lipstick smeared around his lips.

azul peeked in your direction, curious. you usually find it funny when he’s flustered like this but you were laughing a little too much. he noticed the messy red lipstick and furrowed his brows, wiping a finger across his lips.

you suppressed a smile as you watched him curiously examine his stained finger, “it’s lipstick.” he concludes.

“well… obviously? i thought that would have been pretty clear,” you grab his hand, wiping the red off of his finger.

before azul can retort you lean in to kiss him again; anywhere you can get your lips on before he shells himself away, utterly embarrassed. a kiss to his cheek, jaw, forehead, nose, other cheek, forehead again, has him sputtering, almost begging to be released.

azul places his free hand on your shoulder, trying to push you away while laughing between breaths. when you do back up, leaning back on your hand, he almost looks sad. (as if he wasn’t actively trying to get you off!)

“so, mister ashengrotto? feeling loved and appreciated yet?” you give him a toothy grin, watching as his face contorts from flustered to even-more-flustered. (if that’s possible.)

“well yes! i dare say i’m feeling very valued and cherished as well.” despite his rosy features, his voice is unwavering, full of conviction.

his confident, put-together outer layer completely melts away when you’re alone with him, but this has him absolutely on fire, a feeling no number could replace. numbers can’t give affection, you give it tenfold in their stead.

kalim’s permanent grin widens when you claim you’ve got a gift for him. he expectantly holds out his hands, making you shake your head.

“it’s more of an eyes closed kind of gift,” you start, kalim instantly squeezes his eyes shut. he puts so much trust in you that you worry jamil has eyes everywhere. everywhere. but you brush the jesting idea away, believing that you wouldn’t even be allowed on scarabia grounds if jamil didn’t trust you with the housewarden.

you turn to a nearby mirror, passing the tube of red lipstick over your lips. the smooth makeup applies nice and neatly. (doesn’t matter because you know it won’t be neat for long.)

you step back over to where kalim’s sitting on the edge of his bed, standing between his knees. he’s waiting not-so patiently, he looks like he’s almost vibrating, is he really that excited? you suppress a smile as you gently grab onto his jaw, tilting his head to the side as you press your lips to his cheek. his laughter immediately fills the room, making you press more kisses over his face. one to his forehead, one on the nose, another on the other cheek, his temples, and anywhere you can get before he’s laughing too much, pushing you away.

“it tickles,” he heaves a breath, “stop!” a wider smile grows on his face after seeing yours, the red lipstick you applied had smudged around your lips, looking not-so neat. his face isn’t much better, tan skin littered in red kisses.

while you’re mentally retaining the image of kalim covered in red lip marks, you notice him looking more intently at you. you raise a brow, curiously.

“my turn, give it here!” he reaches a hand out, expecting the tube of lipstick?

you look at him bewildered, “what?”

“my turn!” he repeats. he seems real set on returning the ‘gift’ it seems. kalim’s all smiles as you hand him the black tube. he exposes the stick and passes it over his own lips, tossing it aside and pulling you down to his seated height. he flattens his lips across the expanse of your face, getting at any skin he can just like you did to him.

when he deems he’s finished, you’re dazed and equally covered in red lipstick stains, smiles wide across your faces. matching stained faces for matching blitheringly infatuated idiots.

vil leans on the back of his vanity chair; his face littered in different coloured lip marks. the reason? he claims he wants to see which ones compliment him the most.

you know he already knows exactly which shades of each brand line do exactly that. (thanks, rook.) vil doesn’t know that you know he’s already figured this out.

you wipe the makeup remover-soaked cotton pad across your lips, ridding it of the pink. “what would all of your fans think if they knew you were being covered completely in rainbow kisses?” you wipe the moisture from your lips as vil reaches around you to grab another tube, but you stop him.

“i’m sure they would lose their minds,” you reach into your pocket, revealing a miscellaneous tube of lipstick, it matches none of the previously discarded lipsticks, nor does it have a brand logo on it. “where did you find this?” vil takes the lipstick in his hand, nimbly examining the exterior. he removes the top to reveal a rich, velvety red colour. his eyes widen just slightly.

“it’s a secret,” you wink and take the lipstick from him and apply it, smiling as you replace its cap and let it fall from your hand, onto a messy vanity behind you.

vil wraps an arm around your neck, drawing you closer to his seated level, “well, share your secret with me, if you would be so kind.” you swiftly close the gap between yourself and the housewarden, administering a healthy dose of red onto his lips and the surrounding skin.

he parts first, his cheeks dawn a hint of pink that’s hidden behind the various stains on his otherwise perfect skin. he truly is the most beautiful person ever. makeup or not, hair tied back or loose, vil is sincerely as pretty as the morning's first light, a flower; freshly bloomed, and a fresh set of nails.

“you’re staring. not that i mind,” you snap out of your hazy daydream about your gorgeous boyfriend and back into reality.

“yeah, sorry. you’re just really fucking pretty.” you lean down and tenderly kiss his forehead as he internally squeals like one of his fan-girls. he really hit the jackpot with you as his (second) biggest fan.

idia looks up at you with wide yellow eyes, but they have a sort of gloss over them that makes you believe he would not want you to get up and leave his dorm right now. you grin at his feeble attempt of a silent, inconclusive plea. an ask to what, you’re unsure because his face (minus the eyes) and hands grabbing at you tell you he’s very much enjoying you straddling his hips right now.

you reach into your pocket, revealing your master plan. a tube of lipstick, you swipe it over your lips once, then twice before replacing the cap and tossing it down, letting it hit the plush bedsheet you’re atop.

the translucent tips of his hair start to turn pink as you lean down towards his face. a trembling hand comes up to your shoulder, not pushing you away but seemingly grounding the housewarden underneath you. “how cute,” you smile against his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another to his left cheek, then the right. one more on his forehead for good measure. maybe one more. okay, one last one couldn’t hurt.

you sit upright and drag a hand down idia’s chest, over the sweater you know is probably two sizes to large for him, (but that’s how he likes them you suppose and it just makes for a more comfortable sweater when you steal ‘em) while admiring the definitely not smudge-proof lipstick marks on idia’s face, giggling as you compare the red smears to his blue features. you wonder if-

the rapid rise and fall of idia’s chest catches your attention, it almost sounds like he’s hyperventilating, but when you look up to his face it’s surrounded by fiery pink hair and a flush across his cheeks, spanning down his neck, you realize he’s fine. probably a little more than fine.

“well, that’s some false advertising,” you smile, wiping at the edges of your lips lightly with a finger. idia snaps out of his stupor, hastily agreeing with a stuttered breath. his hands find your hips, giving you a small squeeze. you lean down and press a proper kiss to his lips, you lift away just as quick as you bent down, pushing idia back down as he chases you up, hoping for more. a pitiful whine escapes him as his hair burns brighter.

the red lipstick mixes with his natural blue lips gives him a sort of purple that would put the octavinelle’s house colour to shame. though, he almost looks forlorn. the usual solemn and gloomy housewarden; reduced to a blushing mess after a few kisses.

hilarious, isn’t it?

malleus’s eyes flutter shut, a pleased sigh escapes his lips. his hands, hidden by your sweater, trace messy patterns on your back as his nails scratch lightly. he’s unsure of how he got himself into this humanoid predicament but he’s not complaining.

you’re sat in his lap, placing kisses all over his face, leaving red lip marks behind.

“you look like you’re enjoying this more than i am, malleus.” you bring a hand up to rake it through his bangs, pushing them behind his horns and revealing the shiny scales hidden beneath.

the housewarden cracks a sharp emerald eye, examining your features. the slope of your nose, the curve of your stained lips, your eyelashes, cheeks. your eyes. oh how he loves your eyes, the way they look up to him with adoration, not fear or indifference like other humans do.

you cup his cheek, “malleus?”

he blinks once, twice. the gloss over his eyes breaks, refocusing on you. “i apologize, i was lost in thought.”

“i could tell,” you trace your finger to the tip of his ear, then drop your hand back into your lap. “what were you thinking of? me?”

“yes.”

“woah, okay. blunt!” heat rises to your face.

a hand leaves your back, trailing around your side and up to tuck a piece of hair away from your eyes. “was i not suppose to tell the truth?”

“no, malleus, you should have said you were thinking of pancakes.”

“but i wasn’t? i was thinking of-” you cut him off, placing a kiss on his lips.

“now, let me resume my art.”

malleus is more than happy to sit as still as the gargoyle statues he studies while you press kisses all over his face. he is, truly is.

this was so self indulgent i ain’t even sorry (is my favouritism showing??)

masterlist

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queenofthequillandink · 2 days ago

Text

Apparently adding onto these DPxDC posts is what's getting my creative writing brain going lately.

Danny tells Damian a lightly sanitized version of events as Danny Fenton The Civilian would remember them. He'd prefer to keep the lying to an absolute minimum and Damian deserves to know. He's usually calm when stuff like this comes up; being a Gotham citizen is a lot like being an Amity Park citizen. You just get used to handling shit. Danny's so used to Damian taking things in stride that sometimes, he forgets his boyfriend is just a civilian.

So Danny expects a calm admonishment about being more careful walking home, maybe an insistence on letting Damian call him a cab or an Uber the next time they're out and about late.

He's not expecting his boyfriend to go full Ghostbusters on the situation.

"Damian, I'll really be fine. Got kidnapped by some bogus cultists, the Batclan showed up and kicked ass, all cultists are now in prison awaiting trial. How many cults can one city have?"

"There are 63 individual cult or cult-like sects identified as operating within Gotham City limits," Damian replies, serious as he is with most things. Damn, Amity only had 18 last time he checked. Though it's a much smaller city, so that's probably why. "Even if you think it's foolish, I would prefer you wear this charm. I took the time to have it affixed to an accessory I thought you would like."

Danny does like the braided leather cuff bracelet Damian's presenting. Unfortunately, the small metal amulet inscribed with runes is the real deal, instead of being new age bullshit that Danny wouldn't have a care in the world about keeping on. Trust Damian to find the one spiritual shop in the city that knows its stuff. The bracelet hums with power he can already feel itching all over him from here, and he hasn't even touched the stupid thing yet. Damn, it makes Danny feel like a complete asshole to turn down the gift Damian clearly put so much thought into.

"Babe," he says gently, putting his hands on Damian's wrists. He can't grip any closer to the bracelet. "I appreciate it, I really do. But I'll be fine. You don't need to worry."

Damian frowns harder. "It won't hurt you to wear it." Unfortunately, false. "You can't just keep it on for my sake?"

Would that I could, Dames. Danny looks away, a little ashamed of the card he's about to pull. But desperate times. "It, uh. It reminds me of my parents, actually," he admits softly. "They had stuff like this all over the house. I'd prefer not to be reminded, if I can help it." The worst part is, it's not even a lie. They were more into the high-tech side of ghost hunting, not the occult, but the buzzing, unwelcome feeling sets his teeth on edge and reminds him of the home defense system that shot him 7 times out of 10 when he tried to enter his parents' house.

Damian sucks in a breath through his teeth. Danny hasn't divulged much about the home life he and Jazz are running from, but Damian knows enough to know how touchy a subject it is. Reluctantly, he draws the offered bracelet back. "My apologies. I did not mean to remind you of darker times."

"Hey." Danny smiles slightly, reaching out to touch Damian's face. "It's okay, you didn't know. But I'm serious, you know. One-and-done kidnapping. You don't have to worry."

Damian scowls, looking away. "You cannot promise that.

Danny kind of can. He can escape pretty much any Rogue in this city whenever he wants to. Penguin's guys have unknowingly had him three separate times, with the longest capture lasting exactly 37 seconds.

But he can't say that, so he just turns Damian's face back to his, gently. "Hey. I'll take other precautions, okay? I'll always call you when I get home. I'll let you pay for a ride when it's a late night. Is that okay?"

"I suppose it will have to do," Damian huffs, folding his arms.

"Okay, good. I know you're worried, and that's fair. And I really appreciate the thought. Maybe I can take the bracelet without the charm? I do like it, you were right."

As Damian unhooks the amulet and stuffs it in his pocket, Danny breathes an internal sigh of relief. Damian's just got to let his mother hen instincts out, be overprotective for a little bit, and then things will go back to normal. He can handle a week or two of hovering! And he gets this cool new bracelet too.

~*~

Damian's first attempt at getting an anti-possession charm on Danny may have failed, but he doesn't come away from the conversation empty handed.

At first, he worried that the strange reluctance to wear so harmless (to Danny's knowledge, at least; Constantine does good work, no matter how obnoxious he is) a trinket was a sign of the King of the Dead's influence even now.

But his pattern of speech hadn't faltered or changed and the awkward shame and embarrassment of his reveal was real, as far as Damian can tell.

No, far more interesting is the revelation that Danny and Jasmine's parents are somehow involved in ghosts and the occult. Could they be the reason that the King of the Dead is interested in Danny as more than a one-time vessel?

Damian has been trying to respect Danny's privacy and not pry into his past. Richard says it's an important part of a relationship, to trust a partner to reveal their personal secrets when they're ready. Unfortunately, it appears that Danny's past has just become case relevant, and that makes it fair game as far as Damian is concerned. He'll just have to make the intrusion up later, once Danny is out of the King of the Dead's clutches for good.

DP x DC Prompt.

Deadserious

>Danny had a problem. He thought he handled it well. He couldn't tell his civillian boyfriend of his half-dead status.

He definitely couldn't let him find out by being summoned by some culty wannabes who wanted to rule the world.

Easy solution: Volunteer to be the sacrifice, turn his eyes green, and act like a Royal prick and powerful being. Get rescued by one of Gothams 50 vigilantes. And claim no memory.

Boom, secret identity underwraps.

He didn't expect everyone to treat him so fragile after.

Damian also had a problem. That problem, being his civilian boyfriend, was obviously possessed by a spirit of the ghastly ghost king and was utterly clueless about it.

And it was all his fault.

Danny Fenton was the next June Moore/ Enchantress. Except he was hosting one of the most powerful beings in the universe.

And that lovable idiot had no damn idea about it.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #damian wayne #dead serious #danny fenton x damian wayne #batman #dc comics #my writing

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achilles-rage · 2 days ago

Text

Is She Mine?

summary: when buck left pennsylvania, he unknowingly left you there, pregnant with his child. four years later he runs into you and your daughter at the grocery store.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: another buck with a kid fic, another baby name from my baby name list used<3 if you don't like the name argue with the wall. someone gave me this idea months ago, but i can't find the ask, and i know birthmarks like that aren't hereditary or anything, but just pretend lol. anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: barely edited (sorry), reader has a daughter (obviously lol), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

“Delia, come back here right now!” you whisper-yell down the grocery aisle, looking up right as you see your daughter disappear around the corner.

You’ve always been against kids on leashes, but lately, your three-year-old daughter has been single-handedly changing your opinion on them. You can’t take your eyes off of her for more than a couple of seconds before she’s gone; chasing after nothing in particular and probably talking to a random stranger or two along the way, if you know her at all.

You see flickers of her father in her; not merely in her appearance, but in who she is on the inside as well, and she’s never even met him. She’s extremely outgoing and talkative, and stubborn, and has a heart of gold. As much as you hate to see the painful glimmer of her father within her, it also makes you happy to think of your time with him.

You haven’t seen him since shortly after you realized you were pregnant. You were both in college in your home state, and when you took the pregnancy test, you couldn’t figure out how to tell him. You had ended up waiting too long, and when he told you that he was leaving to travel the world, you couldn’t stop him, as much as you wanted to.

You knew how miserable he was with his parents, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ruin his dreams. You knew all he wanted to do was get out of Pennsylvania, and you didn’t want to force him to stay with you just because you had done something stupid.

You abandon your cart in the middle of the aisle and race after her, haphazardly pulling your purse up your arm as your eyes frantically look around you for a glimpse of her hair, or her light blue shirt. Or was it purple? God, you really need to start taking pictures of her before you go out with her, you think to yourself as your heart hammers in your chest.

Finally, you hear her loud giggle, and you let out a relieved sigh, following the noise and finally setting your sight on her curly hair and her blue shirt. Good to know you were right about that, at least.

“De, what are you doing? You can’t run away from m-” your words catch in your throat as you see that she’s talking to a man who’s bent down to her level and smiling fondly at her.

When he turns and locks eyes with you, the smile drops from his face, and he stands up straight as his eyes travel down your body. His breath has been ripped from his lungs as he watches you pick up the little girl and set her on your hip, but before either of you can speak, your daughter squeals excitedly in your ear.

“Mommy, he’s got dots, too!” Her tiny hand shoots out toward his eyebrow, pointing at the birthmark above his eye, and you nod slowly, eyes still focused on Buck. Your sweet girl is completely oblivious to the tension between you and Buck; all she can focus on is that this random man at the grocery store has the exact same birthmark as her.

“Buck,” you breathe in disbelief, watching as the realization dawns on him. He knows exactly what he just heard. Mommy. And unless he’s suddenly extremely bad at math, he knows exactly what this means.

His eyes dart between you and your daughter, now seeing the mix of your features on her face. She has your eyes, and her hair is the exact same, but she also has his bright smile, and his nose, and of course, the same birthmark above her eye.

“Is she-” he begins, trailing off as he shakes his head. He’s trying hard to wrap his head around this situation, and the only thought running through his mind is why the hell didn’t she tell me?

“She’s three,” you reply softly, unable to bring yourself to say the real truth. He’s not stupid; you know you shouldn’t need to, and you don’t want to say a thing around Delia, anyway.

“Why didn’t you-?” he begins again, but you cut him off, keeping a firm grip on your daughter as she wiggles around in your arms.

“You were miserable in Pennsylvania, I couldn’t make you stay,” you explain, your throat feeling tight as you feel all the emotions you’ve been shoving deep down for the past four years fighting their way to the surface again.

“You wouldn’t be making me stay, if I knew, I would’ve wanted to stay. You know that,” he tells you, brows furrowed.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you since he left. Leaving you in Pennsylvania was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, but he knew how important it was for you to graduate, and he couldn’t ask you to leave with him and throw away your own dreams for his.

Now, looking at you, and the little girl in your arms, his heart feels heavy. He feels guilty for not being there for you for four years. He wishes that he never left.

“And I wasn’t miserable. I had you,” he continues, his fists clenching at his sides as he watches his daughter wrap her arms around your neck and rest her little head on your shoulder. He wants more than anything to hold her, but she has no idea who he is, and that causes a pain in his chest.

“I’m sorry. We were young, and I didn’t know what to do,” you explain, guilt filling your belly. In hindsight, you know you should’ve told Buck; he had a right to know, but you didn’t know what to say.

“Well, I can’t just forget about this now. I can’t just go back to not seeing you, not seeing her,” he says, his tone pleading as he looks down at your daughter again, his eyes soft as he takes in her drowsy eyes.

“Delia,” you tell him with a small smile, tilting your head to the side and resting your cheek against the top of her head.

He smiles too, and you think you see tears forming in his eyes as he nods, then clears his throat.

“Delia,” he whispers. “She looks just like you,” he continues, louder this time.

You laugh softly, shrugging as you squeeze Delia tighter to you. You’re thankful that she’s been quiet while you talk, clearly tired after a long day at the park, and then running errands.

“I think she looks like you,” you reply, and he chuckles softly, feeling a sense of pride fill his chest. He can’t believe he hasn’t been there to see his little girl grow up, and that you’ve had to do this all alone.

“Please let me see you again. Please.” You smile at his words; you knew Buck would want to help out as much as he could if he ever found out. You feel guilt eating at you as you see the longing in his expression, but this feels like a second chance, and you don’t want to cut him off again.

“Okay. But, can I call you later? I should get her home and ready for daycare tomorrow. We shouldn’t really talk about this here, anyway,” you say quietly, gesturing down to Delia. She may only be three, but she understands a lot, even in her sleepy state, and you don’t want to confuse her before you know what this is.

He nods quickly, then gives you his phone to get your number, and when he has it, you say goodbye before you go your separate ways.

Your daughter waves haphazardly at Buck as you walk away, and you can’t help the grin that makes its way onto your face. She’s asked about her father before, and you never quite knew what to say. Maybe now she’ll actually be able to have the father she’s always asked about. The one that you’ve longed for for the last four years.

Later that night, when Delia’s in bed, you call Buck and set up a day for him to come over to spend the day with you two. You both agree not to tell Delia who he really is, at least not right away. First, you’ll just get her used to him, and then you’ll cross the next bridge when you get to it.

You weren’t at all surprised when the first time Buck showed up on your doorstep, Delia welcomed him in with a bright smile, grabbing his hand and bringing him into the living room where all her toys were scattered around. You weren’t surprised when Buck sat right down with her and played with her all day, either, only stopping for snack breaks.

Anything she would ask for, he would do, whether it was playing hide and seek, or painting with her, or throwing her up in the air as many times as she wanted while playing what she calls “rocket ship.”

Eventually, his afternoon visits ended up ending later and later, and you’d sit on the couch and talk long after Delia went to bed. You missed hanging out with him, and seeing him being so good with Delia had you falling for him all over again.

It wasn’t hard to see that he felt the same; you could see the way his eyes wandered down your body, or down to your lips when you were speaking, but you never did anything about it. Your number one priority is Delia, and you don’t want to do anything too early and confuse her.

One day, a few months after you had run into Buck, he’s sitting on the carpet with your daughter, holding two of her Barbie’s in his hands with furrowed brows as she explains to him who they are. You’re sitting with them, watching with a fond smile, when Delia stops, looking up at Buck quizzically.

“Are you my daddy?” she asks softly, her brows knit together in confusion as she eyes him.

Both you and Buck’s eyes widen, and your lips part as you try to figure out what to say. You knew this was coming, but you couldn’t figure out how to go about it.

“Why do you ask, sweetheart?” Buck finally says, tilting his head to the side as you watch them.

“Everyone at school has daddies. And, you love my mommy,” she explains, looking between the two of you. You tilt your head to the side and steal a glance at Buck, seeing the smile growing on his face. He meets your gaze for a second, raising a brow, and you nod once. You don’t know how this is going to go, but you want to try.

“Of course, I love your mommy. And I love you, too,” he assures her with a smile, bringing a hand up and tracing her chubby cheek with his fingers.

She smiles bashfully, tilting her head to the side, then stops for a moment, thinking. You can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she looks at the space between the two of you, spaced out, and then she looks back up at Buck.

“Will you be my daddy?” she asks, and your heart shatters when you see the nervousness in her eyes. Buck can feel tears forming in his eyes as he looks back into her eyes, and his heart somehow feels both full and empty at her words. He’s been hoping to eventually become Delia’s father for real, but hearing the uncertainty in her voice makes him want to hold her close and never leave her again.

“Yeah, baby, I’ll be your daddy,” he says after a moment, not wanting her to wait a second longer. He lets out a huff as Delia suddenly shoots up and launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and settling into his lap with an elated giggle.

“I love you, daddy,” she says breathlessly, nuzzling into his neck and squeezing him hard. You watch with a smile, tears forming in your own eyes as you see a tear slip down Buck’s cheek.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice shaky as he hugs her close to his chest.

He’s always wanted a family, and now that he has this one, he never wants to let it go. He just can’t believe he missed out on the first three years. He’ll have to make it up to his girls, he thinks to himself.

“I’m gonna go talk to your mommy for a second. We’ll be right back, okay?” he tells your daughter when she finally gets off his lap and goes back to playing with her Barbie’s.

When you’re both in the kitchen, and sure Delia’s distracted, Buck closes the space between you two, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. You hold his wrists as you kiss him back, caught slightly off guard but quickly regaining your composure as you move your lips in time with his.

When you finally pull back, you’re both out of breath, and he looks down at you with sparkling eyes, studying your face for a moment before bringing your foreheads together.

“I want to be a real family. I don’t just want her, I want you, too.” he whispers, letting his thumb trace along your skin as he holds your face in his hands. You laugh in slight disbelief, then nod, letting a tear finally fall down your cheek. The last four years without him have been exhausting, and all you wanted was this, but you never thought you could have it. Except now Buck is standing right in front of you, telling you that he wants exactly what you want.

“I want that, too.” you tell him softly, then bring your lips up to his again, kissing him with newfound fervour.

Your hands go to his chest, bunching up the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer as you part your lips and let his tongue slip into your mouth, searching. He keeps one hand on your face as the other goes down to your hip, holding you flush against him as he tilts your head further up into the kiss, and a low groan escapes his throat as he feels your plush middle pressed against him.

You finally have to pull away when you hear your daughter’s squeal from the other room; yelling a high pitched “daddy!”

You both race to the living room, letting out sighs of relief when you see her sitting in the same spot on the carpet that you’d left her, with a cheeky smile on her face.

“Can we have ice cream for dinner?” You scoff, laughing softly as you shake your head. You’ve seen that sweet little expression before; she knows exactly how to ask for what she wants, but unlike Buck, you’re more used to having to say no.

“Yeah, we can have ice cream for dinner, baby,” Buck replies before you can, and your head snaps in his direction, your eyes narrowed. He hasn’t noticed your reaction, however, as he’s smiling fondly at Delia as she squeals excitedly and makes her way to him.

When Buck picks your daughter up in his arms and finally turns to face you, you can feel the sliver of anger slip away, seeing how Delia is looking up at Buck with a dazed smile; clearly happy about finally having her daddy.

“You’re already wrapped around her finger.” you tease, and all he does is shrug, a smile plastered to his face.

“Happily.” he replies, then leans down and gives you a gentle kiss. You both laugh when you hear Delia’s fake sounds of disgust, and when you pull back, Buck throws her up in the air, then catches her.

“Hey, if I’m gonna be your daddy, you’re gonna have to let me kiss your mommy, that’s part of the deal.” he teases as he throws her up in the air, eliciting a high-pitched giggle from her lips.

“Okay, okay, okay!” she gets out through breathless gasps, and when Buck hums in victory and lowers her back into his arms, he gives her a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek.

You watch with a grin, and you can’t believe that you lived for four years without Buck. But now that he’s back, you never want to leave him again.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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captain-huggy-bear · 2 days ago

Note

Jack is one that if you aren’t paying attention to him because you’re cooking or reading. He will literally pout

Oh, yeah, big time! Like you're just making your breakfast, trying to fry an egg and he's sat there pouting because you won't cuddle or kiss him because you're dealing with hot oil, Jack! I'd love to do more of these short drabbles/prompts, especially any like dialogue prompts where people send me a single sentence/word/piece of dialogue and who they want it with like '"You're pretty..." with Luke' type vibes. Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

"Baby..."

"Mmm...." You don't look up from the frying pan, too focused on the egg you're frying for your avocado toast sandwich, trying your best to avoid spitting oil as you cook and trying to get the perfect consistency for your yoke. (Failing miserably because who said you were a great cook?)

"Baby..." He's pouting now, not that you can see it because you're refusing to look at him and this is a fucking crime. He's just sat here and you're so close but you won't even look at him. His bottom lip juts out away from his top, eyes turning sad and pitiful like a puppy. Not that you notice, which makes his pout deeper.

"Yeah?" Still you don't look at Jack, your egg is nearly cooked and you move away to get your toast as it pops out of the toaster, slathering guacamole across both sides and bits of avocado, drizzling sriracha mayo over top.

Jack makes an executive decision, if you won't look at him then he'll just have to make you take notice of him. He picks the exact wrong moment to get up and slide his arms around your waist. The moment when you're transferring your egg to your sandwich and you nearly, nearly drop a boiling hot fried egg on your foot as a result.

"Jack!" You're quick to save the egg, getting it onto your toasted bread before putting the pan and spatula down. Jack's nuzzling into your neck, still pouting because you're more focused on your food than on him and it's not fair, he's been away for a week on a roadie and he's missed you. Didn't you miss him?

"You're ignoring me..."

"Jack, I'm not ignoring you but I need to eat my breakfast, you know how crazy my blood sugar gets..." You try to reason with him, putting the top bread on your sandwich and cutting it in half. He's latched onto you like a limpet on a rock, pressing little kisses to your neck, nose nuzzling against your skin in a way that is far too ticklish.

"You won't even look at me, do you not love me anymore?"

You can't help but laugh at him, turning in his arms and wrapping your own around his neck. Jack's pouting down at you, but there's a little twinkle in his baby blues that tells you he's messing about and just being silly.

"Of course, I love you, Jackie."

"But not as much as your stupid food." His pout manages to become deeper as he glares over your shoulder at your breakfast.

"I love you more. I promise. C'mere..." You cup his cheeks and smile at the way he melts into your palms, practically nuzzling into your hands as his pout melts away. You drag his face closer, pressing one, two, three kisses to his lips before attempting to pull away from him. You should have known that wasn't going to happen.

"Nooo...." He doesn't let you, hands sliding into your back pockets, cupping your arse and pulling you as close as possible. Jack's busy pressing kisses now to your cheeks and nose and you can't help but giggle, a laugh that puts his pout at rest and makes him smirk because he did that. He made you laugh. You're paying attention to him.

"Jack...I need to eat..." You say it between giggles, face scrunching as he kisses across it, finding any and every spot imaginable.

"But I wanna be close to you, baby..."

"Then I'll eat and sit on your lap, is that enough of a compromise?" You try your best to get him to release you, he takes a moment to think, pretending that the decision is a hard one.

"Okay, but I want kisses after."

"Deal."

#huggy bear writes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes/reader #nhl x reader #nhl imagine

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solvisun · 3 days ago

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012825. moon carved, love written on skin

tsukishima kei x reader . . . cw / tsukki has a back tattoo. fluff. not proofread and i am sleepy. i dreamt about this lmao. notes / when will i stop writing for this 6ft stickbug pls. (gn again im gonna eep)

tsukishima kei, years after high school, now in his mid-twenties. no longer the snot-nosed looking teenager that he once was, more taller, and softer and tender and so much more forgiving of himself— allowing his vulnerabilities to slip through quite easily with you.

then there's the tattoo, one he doesn't tell you about until now.

you only find out when the two of you are lounging at home one night, moonlight filtering through the curtains, bathing his skin in a dim-lit glow, low music humming in the background. he's lying facedown on the bed, his shirt discarded, and his glasses abandoned on the bedside table. he almost fooled you, making it seem like he’s sleeping, with slow breaths and closed eyes.

you see it clearly, the moon cycle inked onto his back.

“love,” you murmur, your voice laced with curiosity, careful as to confirm if he’s actually out like a light or not, “when were you planning to tell me about this?”

he stiffens almost instinctively, your fingers trace the faint outlines of his shoulder blades, trying to ease him. he turns his head slightly, one eye peeling open, the corner of his mouth curves in faint amusement, as if he didn’t anticipate getting caught in the first place. “wasn’t planning to.”

your hands explore the tattoo—the phases of the moon, spanning the breadth of his back and etched in crisp black ink. each phase feels like a pulse of one’s heartbeat you’ve come to learn and memorize, mirroring the cycles of your lives together: waxing, waning, full, and new.

“why the moon?” you ask softly, running a fingertip along the crescent. you’d never have guessed that the man you’ve come to love had anything as sentimental as this. feels like another layer of intimacy you’ve set foot on, a secret unearthed by the only person he’s planned to reveal it, almost as if this occurrence was already predetermined by him.

he trusts you so much it hurts, in a good way.

he hums, burying his face into the pillow, muffling his voice. “it’s for you.”

“for me?”

“yeah. don’t make me explain it—it’s embarrassing,” he grumbles, his ears tinged red. even more so when you chuckle whilst letting your hand caress his back.

but you can’t stop smiling, “no, no, kei. you can’t drop something like that and not explain.”

he groans into the pillow, but you don’t miss the way his fingers twitch against the sheets, betraying his nerves. after a beat, he rolls over onto his side, propping his head up with one hand, the other resting on his stomach, he looks at you and—your smile curls into a smirk, raising one eyebrow playfully—and then he urges you to join him.

so you do. cuddling into him as he sigh in faux resignation and gently planting a kiss to your temple. the old habits from his teenage years die hard.

“it’s... stupid,” he starts, hesitating.

you interrupt, your voice gentle but insistent. “i want to know.”

he exhales, trying to steel himself, his gaze fixating somewhere over your shoulder. “it’s the phases of the moon. you know, waxing, waning... all that.”

“i can see it, thanks,” you tease lightly, earning yourself a flat look.

“let me finish,” he mutters, his cheeks slightly pink. he fiddles with the hem of the blanket before continuing, quieter now. “it’s... because you remind me of the moon. you’re constant—always there—even if i’m too blind or stupid to notice it sometimes. and even when things feel... off, like everything’s dark, i know you’re still there, just waiting to come back.”

your chest tightens, his words sinking into you, pulls you in like gravity.

“you’re always changing, too,” he adds, his voice steady but soft. “growing, shifting... but still you. and i—” he pauses, swallowing thickly before meeting your gaze again, his expression open and raw in a way the ache never buries itself, only stretched into a shelter inside you that is love. “i just wanted something permanent. something for me. to remind me of you, even when you’re not... here.”

you blink rapidly, trying to keep your emotions in check, but your voice wavers when you respond. “...that’s not stupid at all.”

he scoffs lightly, looking away again, but there’s a faint smile tugging at his lips. “a little, still.”

“it’s perfect,” you counter, sliding closer to press your forehead against his. “and you’re lucky you explained it, or i might’ve cried.”

“you’re already crying,” he points out, brushing a thumb against your cheek, his voice teasing but tender.

“my bad.”

he laughs quietly, you stare at the moon with warmth.

his thumb lingers on your cheek, tracing gentle circles, “you’re ridiculous,” you say, though your voice carries no malice—just a kind of awe tinged in disbelief. “keeping this to yourself for so long…”

he shrugs one shoulder, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“you have an entire tattoo on your back—dedicated to me—and you thought it wasn’t worth mentioning?”

he opens his mouth to respond but falters, and for a second, you see the remnants of his old high school self, the boy who avoids vulnerability like it was a volleyball hurtling toward him. but he doesn’t retreat now, he lets you see him in full view.

“it’s not that i didn’t want to tell you,” he admits. “it’s just… i didn’t know how. or when. and i guess…” he trails off, his brows knitting together like he’s trying to piece together the right words. “i guess i wanted it to be... ours, you know? just ours. something no one else gets to know about.”

you cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, and he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut.

“kei,” you murmur, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

his eyes flutter open, half-lidded gaze as he blinks to your lips, “you’re being dramatic.”

“no, i’m being honest,” pressing a kiss to his forehead as you continue, “you’re incredible, and this—” your hand moves to trace the outline of his tattoo again, arms stretched to reach his back, fingers light and reverent. “this means the world to me.”

you hear the slight hitch of his breath. the way his arms tighten around you says more than words ever could. “i’m glad you like it,” he murmurs eventually, breathless.

“i love it. just like i love you.”

“good,” he says, his voice teasing but soft. “because i don’t plan on getting rid of it.”

“good,” you echo, settling back against him, your head resting on his chest. you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, it’s telling you what you already know, but always search for a reminder: you’re home with him.

the two of you stay like that for a while, until kei speaks again,

“i guess this means you’re stuck with me now,” he says, his tone light but tinged with something deeper. he chuckles to himself, “i love you, too.” and he’s glad these words are already carved to his skin. his own museum he’s carved just for you.

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womenclature · 2 days ago

Text

what makes you feel excited, and why? (a) Making art because I get to create something. Because moving paint around is fun. Because colors bring me joy. (b) Watching stunt or dancing videos because other people doing recreational physical activities likewise makes me want to get into my body, jump around, and play.

reflect on a time you faced a challenge. what did you learn from it? Preparation went a long way to help me face the challenge.

write about some media (book, movie, song) that has had a big impact on you. why did it make you feel this way?

think of a person or experience that has positively influenced you. how did they/it inspire you? My boyfriend because he has shown me unconditional love and care.

list three goals you want to achieve before this year ends. how can you take small steps towards them? (a) Less bloat / more defined waist / flatter stomach, achievable by stomach vaccuums each morning. (b) Exercise 3-5x weekly (already doing this) (c) Restraighten my teeth using my retainers (one retainer at a time, starting with just 10 minutes then working up to 30 minutes, and so on, each day) (d) Learn to play 1 piano piece (try practicing just 5 minutes each morning) (e) 10 minutes of Spanish TV daily

describe a time when you discovered something new that sparked your curiosity and inspiration. Well, this isn’t exactly a positive thing, but recently, I have had some interest in learning more about the rise of the USSR. I think I want to finish The Gulage Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. This is how my curiosity was piqued initially. Another thing is this “History in Maps” book I have, I think published by DK, and on each page (or couple of pages) there is a map demonstrating locations and movements across land during important historical events. For example, it covers the major world wars. I’m really excited to read this book. I bought it last year and have only leafed through a little. It’s a large and heavy hardcover book. It was around $30-$50 from Amazon.

write about a challenge you currently face. what can you do to overcome it? Challenge: I get sucked into the political side of social media and end up just very frustrated with how stupid and ignorant and mean people are. I end up wasting a lot of time on this. Overcome: By exploring more creative pursuits and other personal interests both online and offline (such as I am doing right now) to encourage self-discovery and deepen my understanding of other (non-political) areas.

what are some things in nature that inspire you? how do they make you feel, and why? Animals for sure. I love that they inhabit our world so directly. Sometimes I joke that all wild creatures are “homeless.” What’s so fascinating about them is that the outdoors is their home. They know it and understand it better than any human. I also love seeing the little parallels between their behavior and ours – The way the ducks care for their young little chicks (ducklets? hehe). I also think animal behavior is silly sometimes and they make me laugh, like how the iguanas will just toss their bodies into the canal to flee, or peacocks will cross the streets sooooo slowlyyy as if there aren’t 5 cars waiting for them to move. So oblivious and un-self-aware. It’s cute when animals do it – not so much when humans do it, I guess!

reflect on a time when you felt super proud of yourself. what did you achieve, and how did it make you feel? I think graduating from college and getting my degree was my number one proudest moment. I couldn’t stop smiling. I don’t honestly remember being very proud of myself before or after that. I can’t wait to have that feeling once again.

write a letter to your future self. what are some hopes and dreams you have? how can you work towards them? Future self, this letter is shorter than maybe it should be because I’m feeling impatient at the moment and I need to get to work. However, I want you to know I wish you the best. I hope you found a way to worry less and look forward to the future more. I hope you found a way to be brave and enjoy traveling alone (in situations where you have to travel alone because no one else is available). I hope you figured out how to connect with other people better, and if you didn’t yet, don’t be too hard on yourself. It would be enough if you just gained more self-knowledge. I hope you are more patient than me, and if you aren’t yet, that’s okay too. I hope you have learned to notice and praise yourself when you do good things. I hope you are beginning to feel that maybe, just maybe, you are allowed to think you actually met your own standards. Maybe you can feel proud of yourself more often. Maybe you can see more good in the world; maybe there are more people in your life who bring value to it. I don’t know how far in the future you are, but if it has been more than 3 or 4 years, I hope you now know the joy of motherhood. I hope you have help and I hope you are able to take breaks and take care of yourself. You deserve that. Maybe you have a good babysitter! I hope so. I know this has been pretty rambling so far, and I apologize. No matter what has or hasn’t happened yet, I wish you the best and I just want you to know that life isn’t over until it is literally over. Until then, anything is possible. Never say never. You may not feel like it in this moment, but you got this, and you will see more and do more and achieve more before the fat lady sings. - Past You

journal prompts: for when you're feeling unmotivated

what makes you feel excited, and why?

reflect on a time you faced a challenge. what did you learn from it?

write about some media (book, movie, song) that has had a big impact on you. why did it make you feel this way?

think of a person or experience that has positively influenced you. how did they/it inspire you?

list three goals you want to achieve before this year ends. how can you take small steps towards them?

describe a time when you discovered something new that sparked your curiosity and inspiration.

write about a challenge you currently face. what can you do to overcome it?

what are some things in nature that inspire you? how do they make you feel, and why?

reflect on a time when you felt super proud of yourself. what did you achieve, and how did it make you feel?

write a letter to your future self. what are some hopes and dreams you have? how can you work towards them?

(images are from pinterest)

#letter to my future self #journaling prompts #journal entry #journal #goals #productivity #about me #me #letter #letter to myself #diary #letter to me

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lovebugism · 19 hours ago

Note

“Who was that?” and "I don't like the way she looked at you."

with Eddie and reader who’s a little jealous…

maybe rockstar!Eddie or whatever you feel like!!!!

hope you like it xoxo — you find it hard to cope when girls start flirting with your rockstar boyfriend, like he wasn't your freak first (rockstar!eddie universe, established relationship, hurt/comfort | 0.6k)

bug's two year celebration ♡

Everything changes when you’re famous.

The crowds get bigger. The drinks get sweeter. The time goes faster. Something in the world shifted when Corroded Coffin started selling out stadiums — you don’t know how or why exactly, only that you blinked and it had. Because now you’re getting drinks for free, wearing the most expensive dress you’ve ever owned, while watching a supermodel chat up the Hawkins Freak.

You take a sip of the fruity liquor and eye the scene before you like a lion would its prey. The boxed-dyed blonde flips her hair and leans in close to talk in Eddie’s ear, then laughs loudly at whatever he mutters in response. Your heartbeat pulses like the thrumming bass of the too-loud song. Every instinct tells you to pounce. You bide your time instead.

“Who was that?” you ask him, practically yelling over the music, after the pretty blonde girl is tugged away by her pretty blonde friends. You take a lengthy swallow of your glass right after to pretend that you’re unbothered by the answer. You hope he doesn’t see your hand shaking.

Eddie shrugs and licks whiskey off his glimmering lips. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know her?” you squint.

“She said she came with one of the other bands, but I didn’t recognize her.” Eddie goes to take another drink but stops with his mouth against the rim. The way you’re looking at him — half full of fire and confusion — makes him pause. “Am I supposed to know her?” he wavers, then laughs.

“No,” you shrug, voice an octave higher than usual. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip to find it tingling with an alcohol-induced numbness. Maybe you’re drunker than you thought. “She was just talking to you like she knew you. I don’t know.”

Eddie’s lip curls into a lopsided, half-sympathetic smile. Here his best girl is — pretty and drunk and jealous — when she should be kissing him stupid. “She was just being friendly, doll. That’s it.”

“Friendly?” you scoff an emotionless laugh.

“Yeah. She was complimenting you, actually. Said that you were the best bass player she’d ever seen— Right before she asked me for Jeff’s number.”

His words do little to quell your ire. Instead, the mischief swimming in his melted chocolate eyes fuels your misplaced wrath. “Well, you know what— I’m gonna go be friendly with Tommy Lee. How about that?”

You say it get a rise out of him. Eddie laughs instead. Maybe because he knows you’re only doing it to make him as wound up as you are now. “Stop that,” he chuckles, reaching for your hand to pull you back to him when you try to walk away. “What’s wrong? What’d I do?”

“Nothing,” you shrug.

“Nothing, huh?” he hums, smiling as he smooths the frown between your brows with his pointer finger. “That’s what you’re pouting about? Nothing?”

“I just don’t like the way she was looking at you,” you admit, finally, with all the confidence of a scolded child. “That’s all.”

“She wasn’t looking at me,” Eddie laughs.

“She was,” you insist, stern and unyielding. “A lot of people are, Eds. You’re not the freak playing at The Hideout anymore, alright? You’re Eddie Munson now.”

“And guess what?” he lilts, nose scrunched, as he smooths a ringed hand over your burning cheek.

Your eyes narrow. “What?”

“You’re still my sweet thing.” Eddie grins, all proud of himself, just before he ducks down to kiss you.

You flinch away in protest despite yourself. “Eddie,” you scold.

“I’m serious!” he laughs. “I don’t care who’s looking me, alright? Just as long as you are. That’s all I care about.”

His calloused thumb smooths back and forth over your cheekbone in a practiced rhythm. You threaten to melt at his feet. “You’re just drunk,” you grumble stubbornly, despite being half-cut yourself.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie nods with a crooked smile sweet enough to kiss. “And I’m still in love with you.”

When he kisses you this time, you let him.

And you hope the pretty blonde girl is watching, too.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fluff #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns two

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purerae · 1 day ago

Note

how would the yanderes react to u getting hit on by a stranger when ur out on a date with them

features ;; yandere!playboy and yandere!jock :p

YANDERE!PLAYBOY — Kieran.

LOL, he’d be so so mad but would hide it behind a smirk. You’d think he genuinely doesn’t care while the guy’s talking to you—but you know him better than that. The way Kieran’s fist clenches at his side? Yeah, that says everything.

He’d just watch for a while, scoffing at the absolute audacity of the man to hit on you when hes right there! The mans totally ugly and not your type and stupid and dumb and—.

Once he grows bored of the conversation (in other words gets extremely jealous) , he’d wrap his arm around your waist and peck your neck—right in front of the guy—making it so awkward because it was so abrupt. Kieran, of course, would flip it right back, weirding the guy out by flirting with him instead. He’d bat his lashes all flamboyantly and go, "Oh, I’d be glad to take you on a date, babe!" just to mess with him.

After the poor guy finally leaves, Kieran’s cocky smirk would turn to you as he wraps both arms around your waist. His chin on top of your head, as he laughs. He knows you hate PDA, but he doesn’t care right now. These idiots should know you’re his, right? “I should lock you right up~! you’re popular aren’t ya princess?” his smile drops but the cheery tone in his voice remains.

YANDERE!JOCK — Alex.

Alex would go into full on panic mode for a few seconds, his puppy-dog eyes rapidly flicking between you and the guy, his eyebrows twisted in confusion. Can’t this weirdo see him practically clinging onto you while you wait in line for the café he’s been begging you to visit with him??

He’d quickly break out of his trance, Alex would not entertain the man at all as the 6’6 jock takes a step forward; looming over the stranger with a fake smile on his face. “Hey dude! is there a problem?” He tries to act cool and nonchalant but fails miserably; struggling to decide on maintaining his sunshine persona infront of you, or threatening the guy.

He’d most definitely scare the guy off with his physically imposing body, watching him leave the cafe with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows— gripping your hand tightly before looking down to see you tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. His face dropping into a pout with beady eyes staring into yours as he holds both your hands and puts it to his face. “You’re too pretty cutie!” He whines childishly, kissing your knuckles. “Look at all these guys staring at you! You’d pick me and only me, right?”

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plaidcowboy · 20 hours ago

Text

rafe cameron 𓂃 getting high with you in the room

⟳⠀ rafe spilling sober thoughts ⟳⠀i know nothing about smoking

୧ ׅ ࣪ ⊹ ۫ . ♡ ⊹ ۫

“haha” rafe chuckled dryly at you wincing. you gave him a hard stare, not appreciating him laughing at you.

“told you not to do it” he rose the blunt back to his lips. you shrugged, settling back into the bed. “i just wanted to know what it felt like” you blew slightly on your finger that just touched the lit end of the blunt.

rafe blew a ring, peeking at you out the corner of his eye. “if you’re not gonna try it, don’t worry about what it feels like” he rasped out.

you rolled your eyes, sitting up and settling closer to rafe. “so then, what does it feel like?” you looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. you loved how rafe looked when he smoked. and how chatty he also got. and how easily you were able to get things out of him.

rafe turned to you, looking to see if you were serious. he paused his laugh when he saw that you were. he sighed, leaning back to lie his head on your lap. you ran your fingers through his hair, waiting for his answer.

rafe slightly coughed out a chuckle, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “uh.. feels good? what d’you want me to say?” he smiled at you upside down.

you shrugged innocently. “like.. does it make you think differently.. about things.. or me?” you glanced away shyly.

you looked back in time to see rafe scrunch his eyebrows. “huh.. i guess i do, actually..” you could see the gears turning in his head.

you leaned down, hands on the side of his head, and whispered, “then tell me.” you could smell the decadent scent of the substance.

it was a second before he spoke again, “i start thinking weird poetic stuff about your eyes.. like comparing them to sunsets.. exotic scenery.. whatever..” he pulled from the blunt again.

“mm hm,” you traced around his face, intrigued by the answer he gave you. “what else?”

rafe turned his head, mumbling into your stomach. “i don’t wanna say” you heard him murmur.

you grabbed his head, raising it slightly so his chain sat on your sternum. “it’s okay.. i won’t judge..”

rafe looked off to the side. “when i do it alone.. i start thinking about you..” you rose an eyebrow, inclining him to continue when he paused.

“..about how i want you touching me like how you are right now. i like your hands on me, like you’re claiming me even when no one’s around..”

you scratched at the back of his head and rafe’s eyes fluttered closed.

“’s stupid, but it makes me feel good. better than this stuff ever could” he referred to the weed.

you bit your lip, stopping a frown from forming at how sweet it was to see rafe this vulnerable. “not stupid. i like doing it.” you ran your hands down his shoulders as his eyes opened again and trailed down your figure.

“i also..” he took a drag before continuing, “.. start hallucinating? like seeing tripped out stuff..”

you rose an eyebrow, stalling your moment. “what? wait, do you feel okay?”

rafe nodded sluggishly. “yeah.. i just start seeing this pretty girl.. and her clothes start getting shorter.. and her face just.. i don’t know how it does it, but it gets prettier.. and her eyes start pulling me in..”

you held your breath, waiting for him to finish.

rafe rose his hands in mock surrender. “and i let her. i go willingly. whatever she wants, goes”

you poked him in the arm. “mm, so funny.. you think i’m pretty?”

rafe dropped his arms, steeling you with a bewildered expression. “baby, i don’t think. there’s so many girls out there that i get upset at for existing while i have you.”

you giggled at his silly words and he rambled on, “like, do they know i got the prettiest girl coming home to me every day? why would they be outside? i don’t wanna see that”

you shook your head, “yeah, that’s how i feel about the boys i see”

rafe paused, looking up to you. he gripped your chin, eyes narrowing slightly, mostly due to what he was inhaling. “what boys?”

you quickly remembered. “no boys, just you” you fixed him with another innocent wide eyed look, it always working.

rafe let go of your chin. “it better be.”

𝜗℘　゜・

#۶ৎ rafe cameron #obx #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron blurb #rafe blurb #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe

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shiggyscumrag · 3 days ago

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⋆. ݁₊᪥Haikyuu time skip imagines ݁₊᪥⋆. ݁

A/N: Since TikTok is got banned and then unbanned and people are making 2020 style edits again while reminiscing I’ve gotten plenty of haikyuu edits 😋 so I’m gonna make some thirsts for my favorite haikyuu post time skip men!!!

Characters included: Kuroo, Bokuto, Tsukishima, Iwazumi, Ushijima

Warnings: oral, fingering, cursing, pregnancy/breeding mentioned, dry humping, getting manhandled/picked up and moved around (gently), praise (sorry if I forget anything)

Kuroo

Your ass would do the stupid video trend on TikTok to the “a boy who’s jacked and kind” sound where your bf is supposed to lift you up on his shoulder. You decide to hump his face last minute instead. The video is hilarious, just as you planned, however you didn’t plan what followed. Laughing your ass off he body slams you onto the couch laughing along. You hear him stop laughing and look him in his eyes. With no warning he’s slinking down between your legs spreading them wide. “Testsuro what are you doing?!” You say with a confused giggle. “Your cute face and stupid joke is making me want to eat you out.” He states while stripping you of your pants and panties. “So I’m gonna.” He said matter of fact before diving in like a man starved. The way he uses his tongue always has your eyes rolling. Not to mention the way his fingers fit and curl perfectly inside you hitting all the right spots.

Bokuto

All up on you ALL THE TIME!!! You love it but damn. Rubbing up on you whenever he’s needy but is too nervous to ask for help. So once you realize what he’s up too you stop him. Make him beg a little before giving into his pleads. “Feels so good baby, always feel so good!” He whimpered pitifully. You then gave him the permission to rub against your clothed cunt until he busted all over your stomach. “Fuck you look so beautiful like this.” “Thank you, Bo.” You say with a wide smile flushed pink from his compliment. “Can I eat you out now? Or fuck babies into you? Or both actually if you’ll let that be an option!!” “What??” That escalated quickly, but you’re not mad at it.

Iwazumi

In my headcanon I don’t think Iwa would be a fan of explicit pda. Hand holding, hugs and the occasional peck on the cheek is fine. Nothing too heavy. The exact opposite to this though, is he will whisper the filthiest things into your ear in public. Hand in your back pocket and head leaning into your ear he squeezes the right cheek “Your ass is mine when we get to the house. Spread and wet for me.” The side eye you give is lethal. Another time you’re on the sidelines with him during a practice match, nothing new just observing the game together. Out of nowhere he turns to you and you lean in to listen and thinking it’s going to be a regular comment on the game. Nope. “Your ass in those pants is giving me a boner. Gonna use the hell out of you later.” What the hell? You try to hide the punch of shock rocking your gut. Along with the quiver of your walls.

Ushijima

This man is physically so strong I just know he has no problem picking you up and throwing you around. I know every character is strong due to their athleticism but this man…he’s something different. You’re on the couch watching tv, he’ll come pick you up bridal style and sit back down cuddling up to you as if nothing happened. Other times your both hot and bothered in bed one night with you saying you’re “to tired, so help”. Without skipping a beat he grabs your hips picking you up and straddling you on him. Next thing you know he’s got you bouncing on his cock and coming from his fingers rubbing your clit. “I’m cumming!!” Fucking you through your high he slowly pulls you off him after he finishes. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.” Even after long games he’ll come home and toss you around the way he wants you. When he’s feeling particularly needy and pent up he’ll get slightly sassy with it. “Don’t move!” He said panting pace haltering before picking up faster. “I’ll move you how I want you.” Flipping you over face down, ass up. He’s magical, a perfect brute himbo for a pillow princess.

Tsukishima

Love kissing your neck and jaw. Hates that he can’t leave hickies openly all over your neck. You both have professional careers and like to keep you love life private. So in order to satiate his craving to mark your neck he instead marks your inner thighs and pelvis. Or your chest and stomach in the winter. Leaves little love bites on your ears lobes since they won’t leave marks. “Tsuki that’s really close!” You saw flushed and embarrassed. He was leaving a fat hickey right next to your clit. It felt interesting, but in a good way. Slight pleasure but not there obviously. A tease perhaps? Pulling back with a pop he drug two of his fingers through your slick up to flick your clit at the end. “You’re soaking wet. I think you’re enjoying this plenty.” He chuckled at your whimper before blowing cold air on your clit. Dragging his warm tongue next he drew circles. Your eyes roll back and your hands find his hair and one of your nipples.

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cressidagrey · 2 days ago

Text

Schrodinger's... Girlfriend? - Chapter 6: Of Burglaries and Beasts

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Original Character

Summary:

Oscar Piastri’s love life is the talk of the F1 world—mainly because no one’s ever seen his girlfriend. Does she exist? Or is she just a figment of his imagination? Detective Lando Norris to the rescue!

Warnings:

I don't think there are any?

Lando had actually stolen his phone.

Oscar wasn’t quite sure if he should be impressed or scared.

He was leaning towards scared, because Lando had this glint in his eyes, ever since he had been forced to give back said phone by Zac.

And now there they were…The Silverstone Fanstage 2024 was buzzing with excitement.

Meanwhile, Oscar would rather be anywhere but there, but that’s what he got for being a Formula 1 driver.

So there they stood, microphones in hand, while the moderator asked questions and Lando was as charming as only he could be.

And then the interviewer decided to throw them a curveball.

“Alright, Oscar!” the moderator started, her voice playful. “There’s been a lot of talk about your mysterious girlfriend over the last few weeks. Can you clear the air and finally tell us the truth?”

Oh, come on.

Oscar glanced at the crowd, his nerves obvious as he laughed awkwardly. “You know, you guys have been working overtime with these theories.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yeah, she’s real. She’s just… private.”

It wasn’t even that Nessie would actually care if the relationship became public knowledge. Neither of them cared. They had talked about it before…it was more that neither of them wanted the hassle that came along with making it public…and quite frankly, fucking with Lando was way too much fun these days.

Lando, who had been quietly watching the exchange, smirked, clearly not able to resist. “Private? Or imaginary?”

Oscar just rolled his eyes. This again? “Nessie is very much real, thank you very much,” he responded tersely. A beat of silence passed, and then it hit him. He immediately realized what he’d just said. The slip-up was out there, and there was no taking it back.

Lando’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face. “Wait, did you just say ‘Nessie’?” he asked, his voice tinged with laughter. “As in the Loch Ness Monster?!”

Oscar’s face immediately turned red as he slapped a hand to his forehead.

Ugh.

“No, I didn’t—ugh, I mean, forget I said that. That was a slip-up,” he said with a grimace.

Lando burst out laughing, leaning into the microphone, clearly reveling in the moment. “Guys, you heard it here first,” he announced, his voice echoing across the stage. “Oscar’s girlfriend is the Loch Ness Monster. No wonder no one’s ever seen her! She’s hiding in a lake somewhere.”

Oscar groaned, his head dropping into his hands as he rubbed his temples. “I hate this. I already regret everything.”

Lando, not missing a beat, turned to the crowd and continued to tease. “Seriously, though. This doesn’t help your case, mate. How are we supposed to believe she’s real when she’s named after a mythical creature?”

Oscar just sighed. “Look, she’s not the Loch Ness Monster,” he told Lando with a roll of his eyes. “Nessie is very much a real person. She’s brilliant, actually. Smarter than me, that’s for sure.” But then seemingly everybody was stupid if you compared the to his genius girlfriend.

“Nessie is incredibly supportive of me and I am so lucky to have her as my girlfriend,” he said, which was the simple truth.

Lando laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m stopping now. But ‘Nessie’ really doesn’t help your case here, Oscar.” He paused for effect. “I’m just saying, it’s not exactly proof that she’s real.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, done with the teasing. “You’ll never let this go, will you?”

The moderator, sensing the tension and wanting to steer the conversation back to something more positive, smiled warmly. “Well, it’s clear she’s been a big source of support for you, Oscar. That’s really sweet to hear.”

Oscar nodded, his voice softening. “Yeah, she’s definitely my biggest cheerleader. She just makes everything feel better. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Lando, not able to resist one last jab, mockingly wiped away a tear with the back of his hand. “Aww, Oscar’s a softie! But seriously, I’m happy for you, mate, even if your girlfriend’s an ancient legend from Scotland.”

Oscar rolled his eyes again, unable to hold back a smile. “You’re impossible.”

The moderator chuckled, trying to bring the conversation to a close. “Alright, alright. We’ll move on from the Loch Ness drama. Oscar, it’s clear you care about her a lot. You’re happy, and that’s what matters.”

Oscar smiled, his earlier discomfort fading as he thought of Nessie. “Yeah, I’m really happy. And trust me, she’s not a myth.”

Lando, still clearly entertained by the whole situation, leaned in with a grin. “Well, I still think you’re dating a mythical creature. But hey, if she’s real, I guess I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Oscar shook his head, laughing despite himself. “You’ll meet her one day. Just not in a lake.”

Maybe sooner than Lando thought after all.

Lando, ever the showman, leaned into the microphone again with a wink. “Loch Ness Merch Drop coming soon!”

Oscar laughed, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “I swear, Lando…”

The moderator, now clearly enjoying the banter, smiled at the crowd. “Thank you, guys. Oscar, you’ve definitely given us some good material for today’s session!”

Oscar, still grinning but shaking his head at Lando, laughed along. “I regret every word I said.”

Lando, on the other hand, was still in stitches. “Nah, mate. This is gold. I’ll never let you live it down.”

Oscar buried his face in his hands once more, but he couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at his lips. The crowd erupted in laughter, and for a brief moment, Oscar could only laugh along with them—Nessie or not, this was one conversation that would follow him for a long time.

#formula 1 #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 grid fanfiction #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #Oscar Piastri smau #Oscar Piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #op81 fic #op81 imagine

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cartierre · 3 days ago

Text

NIGHTS LIKE THIS | ob3

❝ It's night like this when I need your love ❞

synopsis: and if only one night is meant for the two of us, is it worth falling in love for?

pairing: ollie bearman x fem!reader warnings: sweet, flirting, making out, angst, google translate italian word count: 4k

author's note: inspired by 'nights like this' by the kid laroi! there is a name drop towards the end but throughout the majority of the fic, reader's name is not mentioned.

The gym was packed with loud teenagers, all talking at a rapid speed trying to overcome the booming music that echoed through the big speakers. Everyone was dressed in gorgeous evening wear, most of the girls adorned glittery dresses while the boys stuck to traditional black suits. There was some finger food displayed on tables on the side, bowls filled with alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks quenching the students’ and teachers’ thirst.

Ollie found himself misplaced among the Italian teenagers. He had only moved there a year ago and since he entered Formula Two, he barely attended any of his classes. He wasn’t even sure how exactly he had graduated, just that the heavy burden of getting good grades got lifted from his shoulders.

At least one less thing he had to worry about.

His parents were long gone, only having stuck around for the official ceremony until they left him to “have fun with his fellow peers”. It’s ironic, he thought, since he didn’t even know most of their names.

The drink in his hand only had a few sips left, the prosecco leaving a bittersweet taste on his tongue. He felt a soft buzz from the alcohol, but ultimately decided against getting wasted with people he didn’t even fully understand. It was partially his fault, he never cared enough to pay attention in his Italian language class.

“Che tragedia!” (How tragic!) He could hear his Italian teacher in the back of his mind. “Your Italian è terribile!” (Your Italian is terrible!)

Tugging at his tie around his neck, he feared he was close to suffocating from all the noise around him. Placing his drink on some of the tables splattered around the hall, he excused himself to no one in particular before sprinting up the stairs in the hallway leading up to the rooftop. He only found out about the spot a week ago, having got lost inside the school and accidentally ending up there.

The fresh air hit his face, though he immediately noticed that it wasn’t much cooler outside than inside. The Italian weather played against his plans, the sun not even fully set as it smiled against his cheeks.

Pulling his tie loose, Ollie still felt more relieved to have left the sticky gym. He felt stupid for not just going home with his parents, why did he decide to stay? It’s not like he had any friends to celebrate graduation with.

“Seems like I’m not the only one in need of escaping.”

Only then did Ollie see a girl next to him.

She leaned against the railing, a cigarette dangling between her manicured fingers. Her hair fell down her back, framing her face softly. She wore a black dress, way more simple than all the other girls he had seen, yet so elegant. He couldn’t help himself but glance at her breasts being pushed together by the dresses neckline. Ashamed, he quickly stopped analysing her.

“Cat got your tongue?” She smirked at him, raising her eyebrow as she took a drag of her cig. “Isn’t that what you English people say?”

“You know me?” He asked, perplexed that she knew about his nationality. Did he look that British?

“I’ve read about you.” She shrugged. “Wanted to know more about the futuro della formula uno, the future of formula one, that is supposedly my classmate.”

“I’m not even a Formula One driver.” Ollie corrected, though he felt the tip of his ears get hot from having such a beautiful girl call him the future of formula one. “And I’m even less of a classmate, probably.”

“Well, officially you are my classmate. Or were.” She smiled. “And once you’ll become a world champion I’ll brag about having been your classmate. Even if I’ve never seen you in person up until now.”

“Not sure about the world champion part, yet.” He shrugged, his hand gripping the railing as if he was about to fall.

“Oh, he’s so humble.” The girl teased him, giving him a slight punch in the arm naggingly. “Well, the newspapers seem sure about it. You being champion material, or something like that.”

“The newspapers say a lot, whether it’s true or not.” He felt his cheek burn in embarrassment. Ollie wasn’t one to push his ego, he’d rather prove his worth on track than talk big without having anything to show for.

She didn’t say anything. Her eyes scanned over him, as if analysing him from top to bottom. He didn’t know what was going on in her head, but right now he wished he could read her mind. She took another drag of her cigarette, and even if Ollie despised the smell of tobacco, he somehow liked it when she smelled like it.

Gosh, what was he thinking? He didn’t even know her, yet somehow he felt so serene next to her.

“Why do you think so little of yourself?” She settled to ask after a minute of observing.

“I don’t.” He simply answered, though his voice was quivering, unsure of what he should’ve said.

“You’re a bad liar.” She chuckled. “Your posture says differently. You’re unsure of yourself and your abilities, but why?”

“I guess…” He cleared his throat, her intense analysis of him humbling him even more. “I guess I don’t want to put the same pressure and expectations everyone puts on me on myself as well.”

He turned to look at her, finally gathering enough courage to do so. Her head was tilted to the side, her lips wrapped around her cigarette to take one final puff before throwing it on the ground and stepping on it.

“Wanna get out of here?” She asked instead of reacting to his words.

Ollie was taken aback by her request, admiring her boldness of asking straight away rather than talking around it. Without wanting to sound arrogant, Ollie was used to girls asking him for certain things. Sometimes, he loved the attention, especially right after a good race, but with her he felt shier than ever.

So it surprised him when he answered confidently.

“Sí.” (Yes.)

With another smirk towards him, the girl clearly satisfied with his answer, the two of them sneaked back down again to escape the facility. He sucked in a breath of fear when he saw her grabbing a bottle of prosecco nonchalantly before exiting the school. Ollie was sure they’d get busted for stealing, however none of the teachers seemed to care much as none of them even batted an eye.

“They have enough of that stuff,” She said as she saw his face drenched in worry. “Don’t act like we’re stealing anything valuable. Also, I bet Ferrari has paid them enough to let you pass so think of it as a little gift.”

He had never encountered someone like her, Ollie realised as she popped the bottle the minute they stood outside. Taking a sip straight from the bottle, she let out a sigh. “They have the good one as well.”

Offering him a sip, she pulled out another Vogue cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “I don’t assume you smoke, but regardless, do you want one?” She said as she held out the pack in front of him.

Ollie hesitated a bit, but ultimately declined. He was sticking to the prosecco.

“Figured.” She shrugged and shoved the pack back into her little purse.

“So- uh- where to now?” He asked, taking another sip of the drink. He felt himself growing more nervous every minute he spent with her.

She smiled, taking his hand boldly and running off into a certain direction. Ollie stumbled forward, not expecting her approach, but then took off behind her and followed her blindly.

At that moment, he would’ve followed her anywhere.

Giggling uncontrollably, she kept turning her head around to him from time to time. Her hair was flowing behind her as if she was from another planet, somewhere where beauty lit up the night. Her beauty certainly lit up his night.

“Come on,” she slowed down, taking small breaths, her cheeks slightly shiny from the sweat. “It’s not far.”

“Where are you taking me?” Ollie’s face was flushed, his locs sticking to his forehead from all the running. The summer air was hitting his face and he felt warm under his suit jacket.

“It’s a sorpresa!” She just said, opening her mouth slightly and nodding towards the prosecco in his hands.

His brain malfunctioned for a second, then started acting without thinking. In a smooth motion, he poured some of the liquid into her mouth, accidentally spilling some. The alcohol ran down her chin, trailing down her chest and inbetween her breasts.

Ollie felt hot, and this time it wasn’t just the summer heat.

She laughed after gulping down the sparkling wine, wiping her chin with her hand, careful not to smudge her lipstick.

“Ehi!” (Hey!)

Ollie ducked down, as if he would dodge a bullet, from the sudden shrill voice coming from above. The girl kept laughing, ignoring the old woman screaming at the two from her little balcony.

“Silenzio!” (Be quiet!) The old woman yelled at them again, raising her fist as if to curse them. “È tardi, idioti!” (It’s late, you idiots!)

“Non essere così duro!” (Don’t be so harsh!) The girl yelled back, still giggling. “Vivi un po', nonna!” (Live a little, grandma!) She stretched out her hands like a starfish, twirling around until she stumbled.

Ollie was quick to wrap his hands around her waist, keeping her from falling to the ground. Only when she was gripping his biceps to steady herself, he realised how close he was to her.

“Vai via da me!” (Go away from me!) The grandma kept yelling, Ollie not understanding anything the two were saying. “Voi due piccioncini...” (You two lovebirds...) She mumbled and shook her head, making her way inside her house again and leaving the two on their own.

“Arrivederci!” (Bye!) The girl giggled, waving the old lady goodbye as if she didn’t just curse at them.

“Now the last bit I got.” Ollie joked, stepping away from her again. He took a sip from the alcohol, feeling like that was the only source keeping him stable for now.

“Look at you, little Italian.” She joked back, brushing her hand against his chest before reaching up and loosening his tie even more. She had to step on her toes to reach him, despite being in heels, then patted his chest when she was done. “Don’t want you to suffocate.” She whispered, giving him a flirty look before stepping away and nodding towards the end of the small alley they were in. “This way, follow me.”

When she turned his back to him, he threw his head back and prayed to whoever to help him get through without losing his mind, before following her yet again.

Eventually, and without any other disruptions, the two of them ended up outside a small pizzeria, which surprisingly was still open. There weren’t many people inside, just your local neighbours and a few drunks getting their snack.

“Aahh!” The owner smiled as he saw the girl enter. “La mia piccola stella!” (My little star!)

“Zio Enzo!” (Uncle Enzo!) She greeted him, sharing their kisses on each cheek as accustomed in Italy.

They continued talking in Italian, Ollie gathering one or two words here and there from his lessons, but not enough to properly follow their conversation. He realised his teacher would normally talk at a much slower pace, probably to help him understand each word clearly, though now it seemed of little help to him.

“... Formula…?” The owner looked at Ollie, eyeing him up and down. Ollie felt uncomfortable, not knowing what exactly they were talking about, and awkwardly smiled at him. He waved at the owner, not sure what else to do.

“He’s your friend, no?” Finally, the owner switched to a language Ollie was able to understand. “Il tuo ragazzo?” (Your boyfriend?)

“No, no.” She shook her head, side eye-ing Ollie quickly to see if he had understood what Enzo had asked her. He didn’t seem so, as he stared cluelessly at her.

“Welcome, welcome!” He reached over the counter to greet the young boy, patting his cheek before stretching his arm out to his co-worker. “A pilota di Formula uno in my pizzeria! Francesco, can you believe it?”

“I’m not a Formula One-”

“Una pizza napoletana da asporto per favore.” (One Pizza Napoletana to go, please.) She interrupted him, smiling at the owner sweetly.

“Ovviamente!” (Of course!) The owner smiled brightly at the two young people. “Pizza Napoletana to go, Francesco, did you hear that?” He turned back to the couple. “Ready in about fifteen minutes. You want something to drink?”

Ollie held up the half empty prosecco bottle, making the owner laugh out loud and nodding in encouragement before getting back to the other customers.

“So, that’s your uncle's shop?” Ollie asked, trying to open a conversation while waiting for their pizza.

“Oh no,” The girl shook her head, laughing a bit. “Everybody here calls Enzo their uncle. He’s been here forever, we all grew up eating his pizza.”

“Oh.” Ollie’s face got hot in embarrassment.

She laughed at him, slightly punching his arm when she noticed how red he got. “Is that a British thing?”

“What do you mean?” He was confused by her question.

“You get red all the time!” She exclaimed. “I look at you and you’re flushed. At first I was honoured to make you blush, but now I think you’re just like that constantly.”

He was like that constantly just because she was there. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a British thing.” He scratched his neck, his face hot again, lying to her face since he didn’t want to admit how flustered she makes him ever since they met.

“It’s a cute British thing.” She slightly pushed him, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t stop.”

He couldn’t even if he wanted to.

“Pizza Napoletana for my little stella!”

Taking the pizza carton, the two bid their goodbyes to Enzo before continuing their way down the small alleys. Along the way, Ollie felt her hand intertwining with his again. He didn’t protest.

“We’re here!” She yelled laughingly, letting go of his hand to run forward. “Come on!”

They found themselves at the beach, the small town behind them glittering in the water as the lights reflected on the surface. There were nearly no people on the beach, surprisingly, and Ollie had to hold back his laughter when he saw the girl getting rid of her shoes to feel the sand between her toes.

“I love the beach.” She said when he came up to her, pizza in one hand and prosecco in the other. He placed both of it carefully on the ground before taking his jacket off, laying it down onto the sand to somewhat protect them from the sand.

Sitting down, he realised just how close they were to fit into his jacket. Though he wouldn’t ever complain about it. Sharing the pizza, the two of them were silently enjoying the view and food, sharing a sip of prosecco every once in a while, emptying the bottle.

It’s gotten late. More and more of the few people around them started packing up their stuff. Ollie’s phone had no more battery left, so he was unsure just what time it was. Looking to his right, he also didn’t care what time it was.

The two were now laying on the beach, their heads sharing the space on Ollie’s suit jacket. Next to them was the empty pizza carton next to the prosecco bottle. They’d clean it up later.

“... and that’s Andromeda, named after the Ethiopian princess saved by Perseus. She was chained to a rock, being sacrificed to the sea monster Cetus.” She pointed towards the sky, tracing the star constellation she just talked about. “You see?”

He couldn’t really decipher any of the constellations she pointed out to him, Ollie just liked listening to her talking about something she was passionate about. So he nodded, humming in agreement.

“You’re not paying attention!” She scolded him jokingly, shoving his shoulder with her own and giggling when she noticed how she ripped him out of his trance.

“No, no, I was!” He tried to defend himself.

“Really? Then where is Andromeda?” She raised her brow, her lips stretched into a smirk.

Clearing his throat, Ollie turned his head to look at the stars again, randomly pointing at the bright points decorating the night sky. “See, right there.”

Laughing at his attempt, she just shook her head and took his hand into hers. Stretching his pointy-finger out, she helped him slowly trace the Andromeda constellation. “She’s right here, glowing beautifully above us.” She whispered, her eyes soaking up the beauty of the stars while his eyes were drowning in hers.

Slowly, her hands holding his traced each of his fingers. They went over his knuckles, following the lines on the palm of his hand before stopping on his wrist. None of them talked, enjoying the silence and the feel of each other's skin while the waves splashed softly in the background.

She felt him staring at her from the side, finally turning to him and meeting his eyes. Their hands were still up in the air, though she dropped hers when he felt his hand coming down. He cupped her face gingerly.

His thumb traced her cheekbone, just as her fingers used to trace his hand, until they stopped at her lips. Her lipstick had been long gone after they finished the pizza, though Ollie found himself enjoying her natural lips just as much as her painted ones.

He softly swiped over her lips, feeling the shaky breath she let out on his thumb. He couldn’t stop staring at them, wondering what they’d feel like on his lips, what they’d taste like.

What she would taste like.

“Now or never.” She whispered, making his eyes snap back at hers.

He leaned over her, using his elbows and free hand to stabilise himself to not crush her with his weight. “Sì?”

“Sì, Oliver.”

Ollie groaned, his full name sounding so appealing when it came out of her lips, and suddenly he’s never felt so sure about something.

He leaned down, pressing his lips against hers. He was sure he'd never felt so many butterflies going around his stomach. He had goosebumps all over his body, his face flushed yet again and the nervosity fading away with every passing second.

His hand cupping her face moved to her hair, his fingers entangling with her hair and his body moving more and more on top of her. He felt her hands wandering up his back towards his neck, pulling him towards her. Her hands settled on his chest, her nails scratching over the fabric of his dressing shirt.

His hand, previously holding him up which now his knees did, settled on her waist, tracing small circles over his dress. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, her back arching upwards and pressing against his chest.

Ollie felt himself going crazy when he felt her whimpering against his lips, his mind on autopilot as he kissed her down the neck, sucking on her pulsing point which had her moaning and panting. Her nails scratched against his scalp, the slight pain making him groan against her skin.

“Ollie-” She gasped, throwing her head back as she felt one of his hands tracing the curve of her boob. “Oh Dio…” (Oh God…)

Hearing his name, Ollie snapped out of his trance. Breathing heavily, he pulled away from her slightly to calm down for a second. “Fuck…”

Her taste lingered on his lips, the feeling of kissing her consuming his whole. He knew they needed to stop before things got out of hand, he figured she realised that exact thought as he looked into her eyes.

Ollie rolled over, leaving the space on top of her and settling down next to her.

There was silence between them, the sound of the waves mixing with their heavy breathing. Suddenly, she started giggling beside him. Not knowing why, Ollie felt the urge to just join her.

Both giggling, neither of them sure why, and yet the two of them understood each other.

She sat up, looking down at him sideways. “I think it’s time to go.”

Ollie wasn’t sure if she knew how crushing her words were. He wanted to freeze this moment, freeze this moment with her. If it was up to him, he’d never leave this night.

But it wasn’t up to him, so he stood up and helped her do the same. Dusting the sand off of themselves, Ollie grabbed his suit jacket and shook it before placing it on her shoulders. She smiled at him, and he was sure her eyes sparkled as much as the sky above them.

They disposed of the carton and bottle in a trash can in front of the beach. The alleys ahead of them were completely empty and Ollie was sure it must’ve been the early hours of the day by now.

Neither of them shared many words on their way home. He was dreading the moment they separated, and feared making conversation would only speed up the time until then. So he settled for just holding her hand, and she settled for clinging onto his arm.

But talking or not, eventually they reached the hotel Ollie was staying in.

“I guess this is it.” She entangled herself from his grip. “Pilota di Formula uno.” (Formula One driver.)

“Doesn’t have to.” He whispered, his eyes searching the depths of hers. “England isn’t that far away, you know. And there are races here in Italy.”

She just smiled at him. “Don’t forget about me when you’re on top.”

“I don’t think I could ever forget about you.” He breathed out.

“Forever is a pretty long time.”

“Not long enough.”

She chuckled at his response, shaking her head. “You’ve gotten a lot bolder ever since the beginning of the night.”

“Learned from the best.” He winked at her, making her laugh out loud. He felt himself grow prideful, he made her laugh again. Oh how he loved her laugh.

“Yeah, your future girlfriend can write me a thank you postcard from England.” She teased, though her joke fell on deaf ears. He didn’t laugh.

Awkwardly, she looked at her feet. Now she felt herself grow hot within her.

“I don’t even know your name.” Ollie realised out of the blue.

She looked up at him, now grinning again and feeling relieved at the topic change. “You didn’t figure it out?”

“Figure out what?” He asked cluelessly.

The girl outstretched her hand. “I’m Andromeda.”

Playing along, he took her hand, slightly bent down and softly kissed the back of it. “Pleasure to meet you, Andromeda.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” She chuckled at his antics, lightly bowing back at him. They both laughed at their situation.

“Drive safe, Oliver.” She smiled sadly at him, both of them knowing it was now finally the time to say goodbye. “And if you ever find yourself back here, maybe stop by Zio Enzo’s pizzeria, alright? Maybe you’ll find me there.”

“I’ll be looking for you.” He breathed out before taking one final step towards her.

Cupping her face again, he pressed a lingering kiss against her lips, cherishing this moment one more time. She melted into him instantly, her hand falling flat against his chest.

Parting, they breathed each other’s air. His thumb traced her lips again, his rough skin tasting salty against her tongue. He looked deeply into her eyes, memorising their sparkle just like the star constellation she was named after.

“Addio mia stella.” (Goodbye, my star.)

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